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oddlykilledghosts · 1 year

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Someone That Actually Likes Me - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Working at Family Video and constantly being a witness to Steve’s neverending flirting, reminds you of how much you want to be liked by someone and like them back. It just so happens, at the same time, Dustin is up for some meddling between two of his elder friends.

I may or may not be thinking of making a part two?? depending on how this goes?? who knows?? no it should have a part two

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairings: Eddie Munson x reader, FamilyVideo!reader

The day was starting to become boring. There didn’t really need to be three workers at Hawkin’s local Family Video (even on a Saturday), but you had come into work anyway and pulled yourself together enough for the first couple hours. You tried looking your best, fixing your hair and putting on some fun makeup, as well as applying some electric blue eyeliner and smiling at yourself in your mirror when you topped it off with bubblegum pink lip gloss. You might not have been the preppiest person, but you sure loved the colorful makeup the 80s had brought on the masses. Hopefully it was at least enough for your flirting to be successful in getting customers to rent more movies. Unfortunately however, one of the only customers that the store had had all morning was Dustin, looking for another copy of Neverending Story (something about his girlfriend, Suzie, that you didn’t bother asking about further) and he had not even bothered to ask about your day (something about a pressing D&D campaign that was happening that very night). The other, a girl Steve was chatting up about what you were pretty sure was Pretty in Pink, even though you had never so much heard him mention ever even seeing that movie before. You rolled your eyes at the sight of the two; Steve, leaning up against the wall his body tilted toward the girl, and the girl not even the slightest bit self-conscious in the way she placed her hand on Steve’s bicep and laughed at something you were sure wasn’t that funny.

You felt a shoulder brush yours, and suddenly Robin was at your side seemingly done with rewinding the old tapes. “You’re sulking.” She said plainly, but even without looking you could tell she had a smug smile on her face. You and Robin had become fast friends. Faster, because you both loved to make fun of Steve.

Sighing, you shrugged and said, “Maybe. Is it so wrong?” When Robin didn’t respond you resorted to turning your body away from the couple so that you could look at your friend and you found her giving you a disappointed look. Yet the smug smile hadn’t vanished. “What’s so bad about wanting someone to like me enough to pretend to like Pretty in Pink?” You definitely were sulking. Steve flirted with almost every girl that came into the store, it couldn’t possibly be that deep. But again, no one had quite been desperate enough to be an expert on a movie they’ve never seen for you. It had been awhile since you had felt seen by someone worthwhile. Flirting with customers felt hollow, however much it may have helped your job.

Robin laughed and headed towards the computer to report the intake of tapes she had just finished with, typing fast on the keyboard. “I think it’s wrong when you’re longing for someone to pick you up with a Steve Harrington move.” She paused, feigning thought and continued, “But maybe it isn’t wrong. Maybe it’s just sad.”

“That hurts Robin.” You pointed to your heart and faked a pout, “Right here.”

Steve and the girl, who you assumed was now going to rent Pretty in Pink as it was held in her perfectly manicured hands, were now making their way over to the register. This meant you and Robin had to make busy and not totally fail at watching the couple out of the corner of your eyes. The girl couldn’t stop giggling. You almost scowled, but held back your facial features. It wasn’t embarrassing for her, you couldn’t care less whether she giggled for the rest of her life just because of this small encounter with Steve, but it still felt maddening to listen to someone else be so happy when you just felt bleh. Finally, before leaving the girl wrote down her number on Steve’s hand. Which would only be unfortunate for the boy if he found another girl to flirt with later in the day. The good thing for him was that you were close to closing and he could go home, wash his hand and be able to start anew the next day. Woefully, you would be there to watch.

You watched painfully out of the corner of your eye as Steve skillfully aced what boring small talk came out of the girl’s mouth as he checked out her rental. Gag. When the girl finally left, Steve’s demeanor changed and he was back to his regular self. Still handsome and charming, just putting on less of a show.

Robin beat you to speaking first by saying quickly, in a hushed chuckle, “Y/N wants you to flirt with her.”

Steve’s gaze immediately fell onto you, cocking his head in what was obvious confusion. And yet a smile tugged at his lips, “Is that so?”

The heat in your cheeks burned furiously and while you knew Robin was joking, you felt the undeniable urge to duck your head under the counter and stay there until everyone left. “No. That is not what I said. I merely want to be flirted with. By someone,” You shoved past Steve and picked up a pile of tapes that needed to be reshelved, “That actually likes me.” This time you really did duck behind the shelves, putting back the tapes where they belonged, thankful for the cover and blissful in not seeing Steve’s reaction to what you had said.

Steve’s voice followed you into the racks of movies, “Who says I don’t like you?” You hadn’t realized he was now standing at the end of the aisle you were in and bumped into his chest on your way to exit, dropping the remainder of the tapes that had been in your arms. Sometimes, you wished you had Steve’s effortlessness he used while flirting. You would definitely run into people a lot less.

The two of you then simultaneously leaned down and began to pick up the movies when the bell to the door rang.

A new customer.

“Hello?” A new voice rang out. “Anybody here?” Apparently, Robin had been quick to hide in the back of the store and pretend to be busy while you and Steve worked with the small amount of foot traffic that made its way into the store. She often did this when she decided she deserved a break, and for all it was worth, she dealt with you and Steve almost every day so you’d say it was pretty well-earned. Footsteps sounded on the linoleum floors. “Helloooo?” This time the voice held onto the word in a singsong tune until it petered out softly into the store. The guy's voice sounded playful and amused as if this (aka a Family Video in Hawkins, Indiana) was all such fun.

Still busy with the tapes, Steve didn’t react to the newcomer and instead whispered a soft, “I got this.” to you before shooing you away in hopes that you would be able to deal with the customer. If the stranger to the store had been a murderer, you would’ve had to fend for yourself. Well, of course you had Robin but it was obvious you would die first in such close proximity. But clearly, when you stood up and found the long mess of wavy hair staring at you from the top of the shelf you were behind, that was not the case. He was smiling satisfyingly and his brown eyes gleamed from behind the rack of tapes when you popped up from the floor.

“Hello.” He said pleasantly.

As you walked out from behind the stack, the customer followed. And when you finally reached the other end closer to the register and the door, it gave you both the chance to view each other fully. Your eyes went immediately to his shirt, and it triggered some sense of deja vu that settled in the atmosphere. The devil logo sneered playfully back at you as you stared at the guy’s chest. Unlike your unwavering gaze on his torso, his eyes, unbeknownst to you, hadn’t left your face. “You must be Y/N. Didn’t think you could be prettier up close.” When you looked back up, he gave you a smile that reminded you of the Cheshire Cat. Playful, but somehow devious. A new feeling shook through your body, ending up in your cheeks which were now charmingly warm.

Your hands went instinctively to your face, where the new warmth was homed, in an act of sudden shyness and you smiled softly, “And you must be…?” Then you knew where the shirt had popped up in your memories. Of course. Dustin wore one just like it constantly. You looked further in your mind as Lucas and Mike also popped up in your head wearing it on certain school days. Days that always came with some obligation on their end. Then it struck you. D&D. Which meant that this was…

“Eddie.” He said with another overconfident smile. He didn’t hold his hand out to shake or anything, but was pleased when you kept your own grin. Of course you remembered him from school, even though his hair was a lot shorter in your recollections. He was your age too, although he still hadn’t graduated (unlike you and Steve who had done so the year before). Truly, you should have recognized him sooner. It wasn’t like Dustin constantly talked about him as if he were some mythical creature to be worshiped. That was totally not the case.

“Right,” You said sincerely as you shook your head and led him to the large counter in the center of the room. As if by magnets, your eyes kept trailing to his leather jacket. Had you ever noticed how attractive leather jackets were before? You’re sure you had, just not in such close observation. Quietly you chuckled to yourself as you continued, “I should’ve known too. The shirt says it all. Dustin’s a part of your campaign, right?”

Eddie’s performance of a smile shifted into more of a genuine beam as you got another thing right. The first was your unwavering smile, people’s expressions usually didn’t hold steady with him. Yet because he was still a little surprised you knew what a campaign was, he didn’t answer your question. People usually skipped over the D&D terms and just called it a club as it said so on the shirt, but it was nicer when people paid attention to the details. Especially about something most people in Hawkins considered so nerdy. Something people would usually turn their heads at when they found out it was led by a freak like him. You were trying, though it was obvious you didn’t know much on the subject. And that itself was different.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you as Steve, at long last, popped up, seemingly having finished picking up the remainder of the fallen tapes. He made a load of noise as he struggled to get up and his sneakers squeaked awkwardly on the floor. Then, as if to further his inopportune entrance, the boy looked suspiciously between the two of you, trying to send you a secret look that asked if you wanted him to take over as Eddie’s guide to Family Video. You didn’t miss the message Steve was trying ‘ever so subtly’ to send you, but you ignored it. Dustin’s opinion mattered some, and you wanted to learn a bit why he looked up to the boy in front of you so much. Eddie was definitely different from most of the crowd you rolled with (though you could see Robin losing her mind over a nice leather jacket) and in this case, different was refreshing.

Taking things into his own hands, Steve walked over to your side of the register and leaned against the counter slyly. You noticed, amusingly, a piece of hair had fallen in front of his eyes and he was trying not to jump up and fix it. “Did you need any help finding anything?” His head was directed at Eddie, but his eyes stayed on you.

“And here I thought, Y/N was being ever so helpful.” Eddie mocked Steve, an innocent look on his face. You thought back to high school…they didn’t have anything against each other, did they? Sure, there was that rivalry that Steve had fully concocted on his own because he was jealous that Dustin had another older boy to look up to. But other than that it seemed as if the boys had barely interacted. Then again, not everyone had gotten over “King Steve” as easily as you and Robin had. No one had seen just how nerdy and awkward (and sure, you could say endearing) as Steve Harrington really was on his off days of being a former high school douchebag.

“Well,” You said as you flattened the creases in your work pants. “I was about to be.” This time you turned your head to Steve who was now a breath away, “I don’t think that Eddie will want your expertise on Pretty In Pink anyway, Harrington. I’m sure Robin needs help in the back.”

Steve squinted at you while you saw Eddie hold back a small laugh. He, at least, thought your comment was amusing. “I don’t think-” And there were those brown, puppy dog eyes. Save them for the next girl, Harrington, you thought to yourself.

“No, I’m very sure that Robin needed help. It’s a mess back there.” You pushed Steve back out from the counter and towards the back room where Robin was most definitely not busy. “It’s one customer Steve, take your break.” With him sulking, you had to push him all the way into the back of the store, where you did happen to catch a glimpse of Robin watching Teen Wolf (just as Micheal J. Fox turned hairy) on one of the old TVs they kept back there.

When you got back to the register, Eddie had made himself a little more at home. He was leaning against the counter, albeit the opposite side from you, and was playing with some of the rings on his fingers. You tried not to stare at his hands and the intricacies of his jewelry, wondering quietly where he got them all. And yet he had not made a move towards any of the movies in the store. The best thing about Family Video was the browsing, in your opinion. Sure, you had limited choices. It was only one store. But being able to actually have the options in your hand, and sift through favorites and classics was one of the reasons you liked working there. It was a tangible way to like films. And still, Eddie had not moved from the spot you had left him. Usually, no matter how helpful you seemed to think you could be, the minute you stepped away customers went with their bad selves in the store. Most of them thought they knew more than you. Which was rarely true.

Eddie almost looked uninterested, and a little nervous. But it was such a stark contradiction to how you had just perceived him that you questioned your own perceptions of things and moved on.

“So,” You started looking at Eddie and placing your hands on the counter in front of you. “What are you looking for?”

“War Games.” Then, after a beat, “The one with the computer. Want to play a game?” He said in a robotic cadence, copying Joshua’s voice. You ignored the fact that in the actual movie, it says ‘shall we play a game?’.

“Yup, I know the one.” You mused. Truly, you had seen most of the movies the store offered. Keith, the manager, made it practically part of the job. ”With Matthew Broderick, right?” You motioned for the boy to follow as you began making your way to the section of the store that you knew the tape would be in. “I really enjoyed that one. Sure, it’s fiction, but it shows just how far technology can go.” You weren’t sure why you were rambling, but Eddie just followed nonchalantly behind you, his hands stuck in his pockets as if he were a little kid with sticky fingers.

When you reached the section you grabbed the tape and turned back around to be met inches away from the D&D player’s face, almost knocking heads. He backed away first, suddenly shy. Then when he spoke, he backed away another step as if one wasn’t enough. You didn’t notice, however, that as he talked his body subconsciously tilted towards you. If you had noticed, it would’ve reminded you a lot of how Steve and the girl from earlier looked. “It’s actually for Dustin, I owed him a favor.” Then with a more sarcastic spirit, “As if I don’t have things to do. Said he meant to get it and the only other time he could come back was during our session so…”

“As the leader, don’t you have minions for that? And isn’t Dustin one of them?” You laughed lightly, still waiting for Eddie to take the tape from your hands.

“Yeah but Dustin’s-” He didn’t mention how much he liked it that you knew, at least in some capacity, that he was the dungeon master.

“Special.” You finished, nodding with the secret knowledge you, and only a select few had of Dustin Henderson. “Yeah, I know. But wasn’t Dustin already here today? He could’ve picked it up then.” The tape remained in your hands as you talked, with no movement from Eddie indicating that he was going to take it any time soon.

Eddie’s dark eyebrows knit together, harboring a soft annoyance there, although it didn’t spread to the rest of his face. Then like a light turning on, so slowly, “I think Dustin is trying to set me up.”

You smiled, especially since you knew Dustin would scheme to do just that. He meddles too much. “In what way?”

Eddie’s voice was low this time, all of his former confidence gone, scrubbing the surface of a softer interior, “With…you.” If it had been winter, you could’ve sworn that you would’ve been able to see one clear breath exit your lips at his words; as if all the air in your lungs had decided to vacate at once. Yes, it made sense to you that Dustin would try to set up his friends. But it didn’t make sense why Eddie came to that singular conclusion so quickly. And yet, you’d heard so much of Eddie over the past two weeks. Had you really tuned out Dustin that much? That the constant compliments weren’t just brags? That they could’ve been for your benefit. They surely weren’t for Steve’s.

Then, as if in an instant, it all turned back on and Eddie straightened his back, “Well, this has been nice. But I actually have some unsavory activities to get to and I’m sure-”

Without thinking, you grabbed his arm stopping him from leaving the aisle of movies you were in. He protested for a second, stopping in his tracks, but turned back to you easily. Still guarded from the prying eyes of your coworkers as you stayed behind the stacks, you questioned the brunette, “Wait. What are you talking about?”

Eddie studied your eyes for hints of deception and insincerity, thinking that there must be at least some trace there for the simple fact that you hadn’t fun away yet. “Dustin, he’s a troublemaker. And here I am. In the making of his trouble.” Hints of Eddie’s mask were being put back up, and it looked as if he wanted to run out of the store.

“No,” You shook your head. “Go back. Why would Dustin set us up?”

“Right. Because ‘we’ wouldn’t make sense.” There was that wall again, still playful but defensive.

You felt your eyebrows knit, “No. It just-” This time you were the one searching his eyes. Again, there were your memories flooding back up. Just as clear as day you had graduated last year and there was Eddie, floating around in your mind. In his band. Late nights passing each other after respective basketball games and D&D sessions. In the cafeteria. And in every single one, you found those deep brown eyes staring back at you through your own mind. The reason Dustin was talking Eddie up was because Eddie liked you. And in those memories, no one else paid him any mind. But you had.

Had Eddie Munson talked about you to Dustin?

“Ask me out.” You said finally, letting go of his arm that you hadn’t realized you had still been holding. It had probably kept him from running initially, so no harm done.

Eddie laughed, suddenly taken aback, “What?” Then realizing you were serious, “I don’t think it counts if you tell me to do it.”

“Do you want me to do it?”

He thought for a moment, pretending to be vexed. “You realize if I ask you, we’re doing what Dustin wants.”

“Mm-hmm.” you hummed as a small response.

Eddie straightened again, this time with truer confidence, “Will you, Y/N…” He leaned forward, bowing a bit in front of you for show, which made you laugh, “Go out with me?” Then he perked up and placed his hands on his chest as if to protect himself from impending doom.

“Would you still want the movie if I said, yes? I have a quota.” You joked as you wagged the film in the air with your hand.

Eddie squinted at you, and yet a small smile tugged at his mouth and he staggered backwards. He struggled out the words as he held his chest where his heart would be, “I’m sensing that you’re saying yes.” Then he recovered slowly, his hands beating up and down where his chest would be and added, “My heart just grew three sizes.”

“Oh did it?” You smiled through a loud laugh as you put the tape back on the shelf. “I think you’ll still need a receipt though.”

Before Eddie could protest, you quickly walked back over to the register, leaned over the counter to grab a post-it and wrote your number speedily on the small piece of paper. Then, again, when you turned around to walk back you bumped into Eddie this time steading yourself by holding onto his arms. You had been walking faster than usual, with an excited energy around you, but was glad when you were able to touch him. Because yes, Y/N, he’s really there. Instead of feeling self-conscious, you stuck the post-it to the front of his shirt playfully. “There. Transaction done.” At the same time, you decided to ignore the two spying heads peeking out from the back room.

Eddie peeled it off his shirt gingerly and looked at it with a cocky grin, “You’re one of the good ones, Y/N.”

“Like it or not, so are you Eddie. At least,” You smirked at him. “From what I’ve heard.”

And then he and his leather jacket were gone. Not without him looking back at you as he left, for good measure.

You reminded yourself to hit Dustin over the head and thank him.

It took no longer than five seconds after the Munson boy had left for Robin and Steve to emerge from their hiding place. Usually, they wouldn’t have provided you any privacy during your interaction so you had to at least be somewhat thankful (even if you didn’t say it aloud). You sighed, turning around to face them, “What’d you hear?”

Robin, of course, exploded with energy the minute you invited her to talk, “Um, everything?” She immediately slid into the counter, leaning towards you and talking excitedly about how she wanted to help you get ready, even though she wasn’t sure she shared the same fashion sense as you. Really, she wasn’t sure she wanted to help with the fashion at all, but just wanted to be there before the date. Before you could remind her that technically there was no set date yet, she started prattling on about how you needed to prepare. Maybe Dustin could lend you a D&D book. She was sure she had at least one Metallica cassette somewhere. You were switching into a different social circle after all, you needed to know these things. You could tell Steve had filled her in on Eddie while they had been hiding together, though you knew she had been there on occasions as well when Dustin couldn’t shut up about him. This continued for a while, even after you assured her that you don’t need to change your whole personality to go out with Eddie. If you were lame and preppy then so be it. And then, to get his attention because the both of you had practically forgotten he was there, “Steve…?”

Steve, who had gone back to reshelving some of the videos that had been misplaced by Dustin earlier in the day and didn’t seem as interested in quelling Robin’s ramblings as he usually is, smiled sheepishly, “I think Y/N found someone to flirt with. Someone that actually likes her.” He just quoted you, back to you. Get your own lines, Harrington. And stop pretending to be a responsible worker.

“And he didn’t even need to pretend to like Pretty In Pink.” You said, raising your eyebrows smugly in Steve’s direction.

“Ha. Ha.”

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skyebounded · 2 years

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Tapes For My Lover

.main masterlist. .stranger things masterlist.

premise: You left some tapes for Eddie to have after you’re gone, and now he is finally listening to them…

Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, blood sweat and tears. (tell me if their is more)

WC: 6.8k

A/N: So this idea came to me and I instantly fell in love with it. There is just something about it that leaves me with a feeling of comfort knowing that its Eddie. Anyway, I hope you guys like this one, I sure as hell did.

IMPORTANT: the italics portions are flashbacks. bolded italics are Readers comments, and just plain text is good old Eddie.

(you can listen to the songs, I did, but I also listened to Stargirl Interlude by the weeknd and lana del rey to make it hurt more)

The box had been sitting on his shelf for months now, taunting him, a constant reminder that you were gone, and were never coming back. He couldn’t lie, he had tried to get rid of the box several times, just throw it in the dumpster, and forget everything, even forget you, but he couldn’t. You would never forgive him for it, and he knew that, but that's not why he kept it, no he kept it because it was the last parts of you that he had. The last thing you gave him, and no matter how much it hurt him to gaze at the box every waking moment, he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it.

He couldn’t stop beating himself up for all of it, your death, the fight. You had died before they had figured out a way to save you, to keep you out of Vecna’s grasp, and it killed him. Killed him to know that he had the ability to do it, he just didn’t know it soon enough, and worst of all he hadn’t forgiven himself for it, for not trying harder to save you. And he wondered if he ever would.

You had left the box lying on his bed, the day you died, no note, no warning, just the box. He refused to open it, fear of what was inside, consuming his very being. A part of him thought that if he did, that If he opened it, he would finally be admitting to himself that you had died and that he would never see you again, and he couldn’t accept that. So he did what he did best, shelved it, and pretended like it didn't haunt him. Walking past it every day, ignoring the sizable amount of guilt that filled him as he did.

Today he couldn’t, not anymore. Eddie walked over to his bookcase, gently pulling the old Vans shoebox off the shelf, as he made his way to the living room. He set it down in the center of the coffee table and stared at it. Wondering if by some chance it would explode and claim him, bringing him to you once again. He closed his eyes, stopping the tears before they had even begun. It was time. Taking a deep breath he pushes back the top, revealing the contents inside.

It wasn’t what he expected, cassette tapes, and on top, your very own walkman. He recognized it immediately, It had always been glued to your hip every waking moment. He couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t have it on, the headphones framing your perfect face. A folded piece of paper sat underneath the walkman that had his name written perfectly on it.

He closes the box, running his hands over his face and through his hair, ignoring the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. Getting up and walking to the fridge, grabbing out the first beer he finds, he cracks it open, glaring at the box from the comfort of the kitchen, anxiously tapping his ring against the glass bottle.

Despite thinking that he had the strength, the will to do it, it started to dawn on him that maybe he didn’t. He still wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

After a few hours of pacing, trying to do anything but think of you, he decides to give it another go, making his way back to the cursed spot on the couch, and opening the box once more.

Grabbing the piece of paper with shaky hands, he takes a deep breath, unfolding it to see your neat handwriting. With another deep breath, he begins to read,

Hey Cutie,

I give it about four months before you open this box, maybe even more until you read this letter. So, listen, In this box, there are a few tapes, each one labeled with a date, and I know you’re at least smart enough to put them in order before giving them a listen, however, I have already cued up the first one for you, so you’re welcome. I’m not going to tell you what's on them, that's for you to figure out, but I hope that you do. Anyway, tiger, I’ll let you get to it.

He’s not sure how long he's been staring at the note, memorizing the way your curl your ‘y’ in every sentence, or the way each ‘i’ has a heart over it instead of a dot, but it’s long enough for his legs to get sore, and his eyes to burn. He sets the note down, picking up your walkman and running his fingers over all the stickers, tracing the buttons with his thumb. With another deep breath, he placed the headphones over his ears and pressed play. Closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the couch. At first, nothing, and then it plays, Everybody Wants to Rule The World. His pulse quickens and he feels like he’s sinking into the couch when he hears your melodic voice over the music.

“Everybody Wants to Rule The Word….didn’t we Eddie? Hey handsome, do you remember this song, I guess I mean more importantly do you remember what the song signifies?” You chuckle, and his heart wrenches at the sound. “September 16th, 1985, the day I met you,” Eddie fights the urge to pull the headphones off and chuck them across the room. “Do you remember that? That day?” Of course, he remembered, how could he not. It was the day he met you, the love of his life. Sitting in a booth at Andy’s Frozen Custard, all alone.

“Andy’s, booth four, 1:35 pm. I had been stood up by Colin Jacobson and was fighting back the urge to cry. I had forgotten my walkman, my only saving grace, and was contemplating on what I did wrong..”

“Nothing, you did nothing wrong,” Eddie mumbles out loud as if you could somehow hear him, and perhaps you could.

“I often thought it was a miracle that I was so desperately waiting for Colin to show because when that bell above the door went off, I probably wouldn’t have looked up, and then who knows if you would have even noticed me.” he scoffs, knowing damn well that he would have seen you, how could he not have, you were the prettiest girl, sitting all alone in a booth, you were an attention grabber. “It’s still crazy to me that you did what you did..” you trail off, humming along to the beat.

Eddie had spotted you, tracing the checkered pattern of the table with your finger. No ice cream in hand, nothing but a sullen look on your face, and he wondered to himself how on earth someone so beautiful could be so sad. When you looked up at him, he could swear his heart skipped several beats, your eyes meeting his and the corners of your lips turning up in a smile before your cheeks turned rosy and you looked away. It would have been a lie to say that he hadn’t tried to get your attention again, doing whatever he could think of to grab your attention just once more. It wasn’t until he nearly tripped over a child running by that he caught your gaze again, and by that time his surprise had been ruined.

“You just slid into my booth, with a strawberry milkshake and two straws, bold of you. You didn’t even have to say anything…God my heart melted. You just handed me the straw and winked.” Eddie can't help but smile, feeling the tears slowly trickling down his cheeks. “Somehow you always knew how to make things better, how to make me feel better…god I wish-” You stop mid-sentence, sniffling trying your best to hide the pain you were in, and yet Eddie knew what you were going to say. You were going to tell him that you wished that he was there with you, by your side as you made these tapes. Holding you close telling you that everything was going to be okay, that you didn’t need to make these at all, because you wouldn’t have a reason to, or at least that's what he hoped you would have said.

Eddie handed you the straw, followed by a wink that sent butterflies erupting throughout you. “Sorry I’m late sweetheart,” he smiled. He doesn’t know what compelled him to say it, but seeing you, sitting here, he felt like he had been saying it to you his whole life. You fight to suppress the smile that inevitably took over your lips.

“It’s okay, handsome.” You had never been so bold, but much like him, it felt right..comfortable. You plucked the straw from his hand, and plopped it straight into the shake, taking a long sip before he could do anything. As if on cue the music changed, and ‘Everybody Wants To Rule The World’ started playing.

“Oh I love this song,” you exclaimed as you being to hum along to it, blissfully unaware of just how hard he was falling for you in that moment. He just sat back, watching the way you found a way to dance in that small booth, with a smile on his face. He never asked you why you were alone, looking so down, and that was perhaps because it changed as soon as he sat down, but to him, all that mattered was that he was able to make you smile. Once you noticed the way he was looking at you, your cheeks flushed, and you hid your face behind a napkin.

“Wow, even hiding behind a napkin, you are still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” he chuckles, sliding the milkshake over to his side of the table. Taking a long-drawn-out sip as he waited for you to show your face again, and once you did, he couldn't help the smile.

“I will never understand why you sat down with me, smiling as you’d known me, but I’m glad you did because that was all it took Eddie, your cute smile, the strange way that you knew just what to say, the strawberry shake… just you. You had me immediately, there was no way I could fight it, I was yours...and you didn’t even have to ask.”

The song ends and the tape clicks off. Eddie’s eyes shoot open, overwhelmed, numb, and yet desperate for more. He leans forward, searching through the box, and grabbing out the next tape:

He puts it in the walkman and presses play instantly, waiting to hear your voice once more. Leaning back again, letting his eyes fall closed.

“I see you’ve made it to the next tape, I’m proud of you.” Only You starts to play, and it takes him slightly by surprise, he wasn’t entirely sure what this song correlated to. “I know you are probably wondering what the hell this song has to do with anything, and truth be told I don’t imagine that you would know, considering I only ever listened to it by myself.” you take a deep breath, “September 24th, 1985, a few days after our first encounter. The date better sound familiar to you now, because if it doesn't, we have some problems, Eddie.” You chuckle softly, and it breaks his heart, hearing you imply that if he had forgotten the date, things would end badly for him. Lucky him he remembered it, fondly. “Our first date, which also just so happens to be the first time we kissed too. God, I swear if you forgot…” Your tone held a sense of warning, but he could hear the way you were breaking.

“We’re not supposed to be here Eddie, this is private property!” you teased him as you climbed over the gate, he wasn’t sure at first if you were being serious but seeing you making it to the other side of the fence, smile growing on your lips, he had a growing suspicion that you were just fucking with him. Rolling his eyes, he climbs over the gate after you, nearly losing his footing as he lands. You would have sworn he did it on purpose, just so he could stumble into you and have you catch him. If it was the case, you didn’t mind it, in fact, a part of you preferred that story. Eddie on the other hand was just clumsy. Eddie grabbed your hand, pulling you along with him as you made your way past the security station, climbing over the turnstiles. “Should I be concerned that you are a natural at this?” he asks, gesturing around you. You had never done something like this, at least not on a larger scale. Breaking and entering wasn’t a frequent recurrence of yours. Silently, you just shrug, your brows shooting up and a cheeky grin forming on your lips, the very lips that he hadn’t been able to stop staring at. “I think if anyone should be concerned it's me, this was your idea, and for a first date nonetheless.” You chuckle. “Yeah well I had to go big or go home,” he smiles wildly.

“You probably didn’t know this but that was the first date I had gone on in a while, I mean unless you count the one where I got stood up. Anyway, I was so unbelievably nervous, in fact, my palms were so sweaty I was mortified,”

Eddie smiles, wondering if you knew how nervous he had been because he imagined it was nothing compared to what he was feeling that day. Having to constantly fight the urge to kiss you every time you looked at him, or every time you laughed, or to be honest, after every time you did anything.

Eddie pulled you into full view of the baseball stadium in all its glory, standing at the very back looking down at the desolate field, the whole thing just for you. Heat crept to your cheeks, and your lips did their best to hide the smile. Eyes wide, mesmerized by it all. It wasn’t the fact that it was done up in any way, but more the fact that he had brought you somewhere that you two could claim as your spot, somewhere no one would think to look for you, a perfect spot for you and him. Little did you know it would become just that, your spot. Too entranced by it all to notice that Eddie wasn’t taking in the same view as you, but rather admiring you, your smile, the way your hair frames your face, the way your mouth hung open just slightly drawing attention to your perfect lips. He was gawking at you.

“It's beautiful..” you murmured, “Indeed.” You pull your gaze away to look at him, who instantly pretended, poorly might you add, that he hadn’t been staring at you the entire time.

“The entire night was just..” you pause, “magical.” you sigh.

“No, that's the big dipper,” you argue. Eddie shakes his head dramatically, “Absolutely not, I have never seen someone be so confident in such a wrong answer.” You prop yourself up on your elbow, staring down at him, wondering if somehow you were in fact wrong and had just made a fool out of yourself, only to see that his eyes were closed. “You’re not even looking!” you giggle, playfully slap his chest, leaving your hand to linger there. Eddie, being the eccentric person that he is, grunts, tongue resting out the side of his mouth as if you had just killed him, and you can’t help but laugh. He opens his eyes at hearing the sweet sound of your laughter. His tongue runs across his bottom lip as he grins at you.

“Gahhh, you had me thinking I was dumb,” you remark, eyes narrowing on him. “Oh well we can’t have that I’m afraid, it simply will not do, madam.”

His hand slowly comes to meet yours, resting on his chest. He wraps his hand around your, his thumb grazing the top of it gently. It was taking every fiber in his being not to grab you and kiss you. Perhaps that's what you wanted, but his head was spinning, he couldn’t think straight, and there was no way for him to know for sure. Luckily, you knew exactly what you wanted, him. Without hesitation you lower your face down to him, your lips grazing his, as your eyes fall closed. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?” you ask, your soft lips pressing to the corner of his mouth. His hand comes up and cradles the back of your neck, pulling you down as his lips lock with yours. Gentle, slow, and perfect. There was no denying the butterflies that erupted in your stomach, as his tongue skimmed your bottom lip, begging for entrance, that you would undoubtedly give. Tongues swirling around each other, head spinning, faces flushed, you were in heaven. Eddie pulls away from you, resting his forehead against yours, both of you smiling against each other's lips. Perfect and yet not enough. Eddie draws you back in, his lips catching yours once more but this time with more hunger, more passion. Tilting his head, he adds more pressure, deepening the kiss. As his arm wraps around you, flipping you onto your back, a moan leaves you. Eddie can’t help but smile into the kiss. His hand grips tightly to your hip, and your legs intertwine as he cages you. His tongue meets yours once more, dancing with your own. Needy hands start to roam your body, dipping under the thin fabric of your shirt, hungrily moving up your sides. The rings adorning his fingers, cold against your heated skin as they move further up your body. Your hands come up to tangle in his hair, urging him to continue with it all. You feel his hand hesitate just under your breast, and you encourage him by a tug of his hair, and a nip at his bottom lip.

His hand cups your breast, thumb running over your hardened nipple. Your body shutters at the touch, shivers jutting up your spine. You had never felt so desperate, so needy for someone, but for Eddie, you were both.

“I still can’t believe that I panicked and pushed you off! God, I wanted to go further that night, I know I never told you that, but it’s the truth…I’m sorry..”

Eddie chuckles to himself. To this day he had wondered if he had made the wrong move, touched you too quickly, or grabbed you in the wrong place. He never minded it though, he enjoyed every moment of that night and wouldn’t have changed any of it.

“Anyway, this song was what I played for months after that night.. constantly repeating: Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do, and fill my heart with love for only you:” you sing the lyrics. “Baby, it's you, and it will always be you.”

The tape clicks off and Eddie doesn’t move. He sits in silence too afraid to play the next one. He hates that it's come to this, having to hear your voice in such a way instead of hearing it in person. Hates that he can’t hold you in his arms and just talk, just feel you close to him. The numbness starts to set in as he starts to picture you there with him. Cuddled up against him on the couch, your hand on his chest, like you, always used to do. God, he missed you. Missed every little thing about you.

After a few moments, he moves on to the next tape, pulling it out of the box and putting it in, pressing play instantly.

As soon as the music starts he knows. Groaning at the song that he often claimed he hated, only to tease you, but truth be told he loved it.

“I can't fight this feeling any longer….And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow…What started out as friendship has grown stronger. You can claim all you want Eddie, that you hate this song but I know the truth! This will forever be your favorite song all thanks to me!”

“Never!” he calls out into the empty trailer. No matter what you said, he would never willingly admit the love he had for this song.

“I mean why shouldn’t it be, I only listened to it all the fucking time…I have to admit that I kinda did it to annoy the shit out of you, but I could tell it was getting to you..” you pause, clearly reminiscing about it. “Do you remember that time…” you tone holding a sense of suggestion to it, one that Eddie picked up on immediately.

There was no forgetting it, not when you played the damn song the whole entire day. It would forever be ingrained in his very being.

You had been walking around Eddie’s trailer, your trustee walkman glued to your hip, music far too loud to hear anything other than the same song on repeat. Each lyric fell from your lips as you danced around in his room. Eddie had been on the couch, studying for a test in Miss. O’Donnell’s. He had already shut you out for the hour, dead set on acing the test, well more like barely passing. He insisted you not bug him any further. He wouldn’t admit it, but you knew that the constant repetition of that song had him in a sore mood, so you had decided to give him a little bit of space, but not for long. Noticing Eddie’s hellfire club shirt resting on his dresser, you grab it, replacing your own clothes with the shirt. It rested nicely against your bare thighs, a sentiment you wondered if he’d enjoy.

Wandering out of his room, you spot him, hard at work. Your lips press into a thin line as you suppress your grin, an idea forming, one sure to rile him up. You start your song over, blasting it at full volume, as you begin to sing the lyrics. You watch his eyes fall closed, heaving a heavy sigh, as he looks up at you. The look of annoyance quickly fades to be one of surprise, and intrigue, one that he tries to hide. Except there was no way to hide the growing evidence in the confines of his jeans, luckily you couldn’t see it.

“I can't fight this feeling any longer….And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow…What started out as friendship has grown stronger….” You begin to sing, very pitchy and very off-key. It was enough to drive Eddie insane. He fights the urge to pay you any attention, as he turns back to his textbook. You laugh to yourself at the sight of his eyes wide, and his lips in a downturn. As you get closer to him, you begin to dance along to the music, swaying your hips along to the beat.

“Sweetheart, I swear to god…” he warns, but you can’t hear him, too intent on annoying the hell out of him.

“You know that my favorite thing to do to you is to annoy every fiber in your body, It’s honestly an obsession of mine.” you chuckle. Eddie sighs, a soft smile forming on his lips as he recollects all the times that you did just that, there were far too many to count.

As you continue your dance, you notice him, stealing glances at you, his eyes drinking in every curve of your body, admiring the way his shirt fit you, the way it sat on your bare thighs, riding up with every step you took. You grab the bottom of the shirt, drawing it up your body and revealing your panties, watching the way he shamelessly licks his lips. He knew there was no way he was going to be able to finish studying, not when you were tempting him so, especially not if you kept singing that dumb song. Eddie throws his textbook aside, and leans back, this time giving you his full attention. “And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door...Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore!” you sing. He doesn’t know how you do it, manage to annoy him so, and yet at the same time make him fall for you even harder. Reaching out, Eddie grabs your arm, pulling you down onto his lap, taking your headphones off, and setting them on the coffee table. You can’t help the fit of laughter that hits you as you look into his dark brown eyes.

“You are driving me crazy,” he chuckles. You open your mouth to offer a rebuttal but you’re met with lips and tongue, silencing you immediately.

You don’t recollect moaning his name until your back meets the couch, Eddie on top of you, and your clothes gone. Your hands tangled in his hair as he worships every inch of you with his mouth. Claiming you in the ways that only he can. His fingers cling to the soft skin of your hips, holding you in place as he makes his descent down your body, his lips and uneven breath fanning across your burning skin sending shivers up your spine.

Your back bows at the feeling of his mouth, whimpers as his tongue glides along you, and sweet shocks of pleasure course through your veins. As you focused on the lapping of his tongue, the movements of his fingers, he was focused on the rise and fall of your chest, the breathy moans leaving your lips, the sudden jolts of your body. Nothing was as beautiful as you were at that moment. No amount of art or even music could bring him as much joy as you could.

“I should have done it more. If I would have known that's how you would react…god I would have done it all the damn time. I mean for crying out loud, that tongue of yours is truly magic.”

Truth be told, Eddie wished you had, wished that you still would. He would give anything for it now. To see you prance around in his clothes, completely engulfed in your own little world and blissfully unaware of everything around you. Even to hear you sing this song terribly, just to get at him. You were his breath of fresh air, and he needed you desperately, just like he did then.

Indescribable, the way he felt having you wrapped so tightly around him, your fingers gripping to him as if in a moment he would slip through them. Your head foggy as you move together in sync, sharing labored breaths as your lips graze each others. The coarseness; of his voice like music to your ears as he whispers words of encouragement, everything that you need to hear as he coaxes sinful sounds from you. His hand finds yours in the chaos, fingers intertwining with yours as he holds your hand above your head.

Crying out as the ache inside of you subsides and your release hits you, only to be swallowed by his lips, as he pushes you through it. Nothing but pure bliss as you feel him follow after you, filling you completely. He collapses on top of you, only to rest his head against yours, and pull you into an innocent kiss.

“I will say this, Eddie…I do believe this song is magic...I really do. I swear anytime I listen to it I'm instantly taken back to that exact moment; one I will never forget.”

The song fizzles out to a stop and Eddie’s eyes open. As he leans forward he notices one more tape and his heart wrenches. He’s not sure if he has the strength to listen to the last one, knowing that once he does, it’s done, you’re gone. He knows he can’t wait forever, not when he needs to hear your voice again. With a shaky breath, and trembling hands he puts in the last tape. Finger hovering over the play button.

“Come on Eddie,” he mutters. He runs his hand over his face, wishing that somehow it would wipe away every semblance of pain and dread from him. Finding the courage once more, he presses play and closes his eyes.

“March tenth, 1986, I got my acceptance letter to Columbia and told no one, I wasn’t going to tell anyone but you found out, ” you struggle, your voice soft and melancholy. Despite wanting to sound happy, alive, and well, you knew that it was just wishful thinking. “My father had no right to tell you, to make you feel like it was your fault because it wasn’t”

Eddie’s jaw tenses at the mention of your father. He had never liked Eddie, and he understood why, it was for this very reason, Eddie stood in the way of your dreams. He didn’t know it, not until your father told him, however.

Eddie stood in the doorframe of your parent's home, anxiously waiting for you to save him from the silence that your parents were giving him. They had never liked Eddie, and for what reason, he had no idea. He had never done anything to give them a reason to dislike him so, and yet they had found one of their own.

“Have you congratulated y/n yet?” your father asks, his eyes boring straight through Eddie. With a nervous chuckle and a faulty smile, Eddie’s left to ask what he means.

“Columbia, she got her acceptance letter…Did she not tell you?”

He could feel the color draining from his face at the words. He’d had no idea that you had even applied anywhere other than the University of Indiana.

“She told us she wasn’t going to accept,” your mother chimes in.

Eddie had a strong feeling that they were implying that it was his fault, that because of him you weren’t going to go to Columbia. At one point Eddie might have fought them on it, told them that it was your choice and that he had no weight in the matter, but something told him that was wrong. Something told him he was the exact reason you weren’t going. His jaw tenses, as he stares at the staircase, waiting for you to come down, and if on cue, you do. Rushing down with a smile on your face.

“Hey, babe!” you say, rushing over to kiss his cheek. He doesn’t know why but he can't seem to find the words to say anything to you, but you were far too happy to notice. You say your goodbyes, kissing your father's cheek and blowing a kiss to your mother before you drag Eddie out of the house.

“It has been haunting me, the fact that we haven’t talked about it…not sure that we will ever get the chance, but..” You mumble the last bit and it's like daggers in his heart. It had been one of the very reasons he had been beating himself up since you died. You had never fought, never disagreed on anything meaningfully. It killed him knowing that he had been so cold to you, angry that you could keep something from him. What hurt more was that he never wanted to talk about it, you both just let it hang in the air acting as though it wasn’t there, as it silently tore you both apart.

“I guess now is my chance..”

“Columbia! When were you going to tell me? Or better yet, were you even going to tell me?” Eddie asks, his tone harsh as he paces back and forth in the trailer.

“No, I wasn’t going to tell you, because it doesn’t matter, Eddie! I’m not going..” you shout at him. You were fuming, you had wondered why the entire drive he had been so quiet, so distant. And now you knew. “You know what, Eddie, I really don’t see the problem here?”

He stops in his tracks, turning to look at you, eyes narrowed and cold, something you had never seen from him before. “The problem is you are throwing away everything you have worked for, every dream that you’ve had to stay here in this shithole with me! If you fucking think that I would ever let that happen, you’re delusional. I could never live with myself knowing that the only reason you’d stay is because of me. I’m not worth all of that.”

You stand up, tears burning in your eyes as you approach him. “You don’t get to say that. I’m not just staying for you, I’m staying for me,” you argue. Eddie takes a deep breath, suddenly unable to meet your eyes.

“No you’re not, because if you were you would never have had applied, nor would you be keeping it from me! Did you think that I want this for you, want you to be stuck in a town with no opportunities, a town that's cursed and sick? Do you really think that I would ever allow that?” He retorts.

You scoff, taking a step back, “Allow!? Eddie, you don’t control me, I make my own choices same as you, It is my choice on whether or not I stay. You don’t get to take that away from me, you don’t get to push me away.”

You sniffle, crossing your arms over your chest as a sense of security. You’d be lying to say that anxiety wasn’t building inside you, worrying about where this conversation would inevitably end.

“Sweetheart, I can’t let you throw away everything you’ve ever cared about for me, not when there is so much more out there for you. You have to go, you have to go and live your life without me,” he says sternly.

The tears break free from your eyes as you ball up your fist and hit it against his chest. “Don’t say that! You’re the one making me give up the only thing I care about. You.”

He doesn’t say anything, doesn't look at you, because somewhere in his mind he knew it was the truth. You would never achieve anything in this dumpy old town, and especially not with him. He also knew that if he looked at you, crying into his chest, desperately clinging to him for comfort, he would give in, and he couldn’t.

“You have to.” was all he said.

That had been the only discussion that you’d had about it. Leaving you both broken and unsure of the future. You had told him that you would go, both of you knowing it wasn’t the truth. It had come to the point where you both danced around the whole thing in general, neither one of you bringing it up again. It pushed you apart, leaving a void in both of you.

“The truth is Eddie, nothing you were ever going to say was going to make me change my mind. I had it made up from the very beginning. I only applied to please my parents, and sure a part of me wondered if I would get in, but in the end, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to leave you. You are my future,” you choke. He could hear the way you were trying to silence the sobs that were leaving you. The way your voice quivered as you said future. Tears stream down his cheeks at the thought. To him, you had always been his future, his everything. He wanted to build a life with you, a family, an adventure just for the two of you. He wanted to spend his days making you happy. It had always been the plan, and in his own twisted way, pushing you away was his way of doing that. He thought that if it was meant to be, you would always come back to him, but in your mind, you would never leave him, because it was meant to be.

“You are my everything, Eddie. I hate that we fought, we never did until then and it killed me. It killed me to know that you thought that I could just leave you, I would never leave you by choice, never…”

You take a deep breath, doing your best to collect yourself. “I hate that I never got the chance to say it, but I love you, Eddie Munson. I don’t know why it took me so damn long to say it, especially not since I knew it from the moment you slid into my booth, but I am saying it now. I love you, and I will always love you. No matter what you do, or how hard you try to push me away, Always.”

Eddie didn’t think his heart could break anymore until he heard you say it. It had always been an unspoken thing between the two of you, you knew he loved you and he knew you loved him, but hearing you say it meant so much more. He gasps, releasing the breath that he didn’t know he had been holding, his heart racing and his head reeling as he tries to calm himself. His hand clutched his chest, desperately trying to cease the pain he was feeling.

“I’m sorry I never told you about Columbia. I never thought that I’d have to, as selfish as that sounds. Also, I’m sorry if these tapes are causing you pain, I didn’t want that, but I didn’t know if I would ever get the chance to tell you this in person. I don’t blame you for anything, and I don’t want you to blame yourself for anything either, I know you will and I need you to promise me that you won’t. “Promise me, Eddie…say it..”

“I promise sweetheart.” he breaths, wiping the tears away with his hand.

“Eddie, baby, I need you to do something for me, and I know you are going to object, but I need you too,” you pause, letting out a small chuckle. “I need you to live your life, don’t throw it away. I need you to graduate and continue to make music and do whatever else it is that your heart desires. I need you to open yourself up to someone else, to fall in love, and to let someone fall in love with you the way I did. I can’t have you missing me always and missing out on all the great opportunities that I know are going to come your way. “So here it is, I chose these songs because they’re my favorites. They remind me of you, of all the moments we shared, all the laughs, kisses, tears…To me, they are the perfect narrative of our story.. I chose them because no matter where you are, I will always have them, and therefore I will always have a part of you. ”You stole my heart from day one, with your bold comments and eccentric attitude, your inability to ever stop talking about the things you love, or in general. You made my life so much better than what it would have been if you had never walked through Andy’s door, and for that, I have to say thank you. Promise me you won’t miss me too much, just be happy, god, please just be happy.”

There’s a long pause and Eddie wonders if it's the end of the tape if those were your last words until he hears it once more. That damn song falling from your lips once again, but this time it’s not pitchy, it's not annoying, it’s bittersweet.

“My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you…I've been running round in circles in my mind...And it always seems that I'm following you, girl…'Cause you take me to the places that, alone, I'd never find..And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight…You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night...And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might..And I can't fight this feeling anymore…”

The tape stops, and a tear falls down his cheek as he stares at the box before him. There was never a doubt in his mind that you were the one for him, his soulmate, and even though you were gone, he’d always have a part of you left. He pulls off the headset, places it gently in the box once more, and closes the lid. Even though it still hurt to say goodbye to you, he felt he would be okay, knowing he still had you by his side, always.

a/n: I cried like a damn baby writing this shit, I hope you did too! Also, I would love to hear your feedback!

Yep, just reread it and cried even more. 😒

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sp0o0kylights · 5 months

Text

Part Seven/ Part Eight (YOU ARE HERE)/ Part Nine

Ao3

Monsters aren't real.

The thing that's flying towards him is--a hallucination. A figment of Gareth's imagination.

The same way the feeling of time slowing to a crawl is just a trick of the light playing with his anxiety.

He'd be fine.

(It won't hurt.)

Gareth's limbs froze, locking him in place even as the manticore bore down on him.

Thankfully, Steve did not have that problem.

Gareth's shirt was snatched from the back, choking him as Steve yanked him out of the way.

It was just in time--the Manticore blew past seconds later, too-large body so close Gareth could feel the air move past him.

The stench was unimaginable.

A fuckload of noise exploded in Gareth's ears as time kicked back in. He fell hard, behind Steve as the older teen swung his nail bat with his left hand.

Huh. Gareth thought distantly as wood, nail and flesh connected. Steve's ambidextrous.

He never would have guessed.

Doesn't think anyone would.

(Should Gareth survive this, he will immediately tease Steve about it. Right after profusely thanking him for saving his life and having a meltdown about honest to God monsters existing in Hawkins.)

The fucker barked a noise, and the only comparable thing Gareth could relate it to was a seal--if a seal had played with some of the sound effect pedals the music store.

Maybe got run over by a car right after for good measure.

In one breath, the monsters' weird, elongated hand-paws raked lines through the floor.

In the next, a wing smashed high over Eddie's head. The finger-like claws at the crux of it pierced through Stewart's still-stuck door, balancing itself as it turned.

This brought the manticore's gore-filled hole of a mouth so close to Eddie's head Gareth thought it forfeit, and it was only Steve's interference that kept Eddie the Banished from being Eddie the Buried.

"Come on!" Steve bellowed.

He smacked the bat into the floor, as much a challenge as it was a distraction.

Thick saliva dripped to the floor in clumps as the manticore's head, a bulbous thing composed of five petal-like slices of flesh and too many teeth rattled in response.

A car horn trumpeted again--and if it was a warning it was one coming far too late.

The Manticore dropped its chest to the ground as it took the bait. A dark, black tipped scorpion tail rose over the back of the beast, stinger longer than Gareth's arm and wider than a sword.

Faster than Gareth could track, almost faster than Steve could parry, the tail lashed forward, stinger out like a lance.

(But Steve, wonderful, amazing, athletic Steve, caught and parried it with his bat.

Then and there, Gareth swore to never mock a jock, ever again.)

The bat met armored exoskeleton with a sickening crack!, the force of the hit shaking Steve's arms. His right foot slid back, biceps flexing as the stinger pushed against him, straining hard against nail and wood.

Steve grunted, shoes squeaking as he was forced to give ground, the Manticore overpowering him by the sheer strength of its tail.

The entire encounter had barely lasted a few seconds but without interference?

Steve would be thrown aside--and impaled.

Before Gareth could think about how stupid it was, he was on his feet and rushing to help.

He grabbed the fire poker off the ground and thrust it forward, towards the manticore's not-a-face.

Screamed “Go back to hell you piece of shit!” So loud his voice cracked.

It worked.

The beast flinched, tail rocketing back as it rose back up on all four paws, hissing in outrage.

Steve staggered with how fast the tail had moved, but caught himself, bat wavering in the air, and--

There was no reprieve.

No moment to breathe, because as soon as the stinger's gone there's a grotesque, hand-like paw swiping at them both.

Gareth fell back, only to realize he wasn't the target.

Steve was.

The claws flash in the flickering overhead lights and there wasn’t any time.

He's as good as dead and Gareth can't do anything to save him--

But Eddie can.

Sometime during the last few seconds, the older teen had pulled his knife. Jammed it deep into the back of the manticore's front leg, and twisted after the blade had sunk down to the hilt.

This, and the resulting aborted attack, saved Steve's life.

The thing wailed as the struck leg crumpled, sending the fucker’s head on a collision course with the floor.

Stewart's door jumped in its frame as the wing-claws, dug in deep into the wood, caught the manticore. Two flesh-petals scraped the floor, but the move kept it from falling-- at the cost of putting its full weight on the door.

A door already bowed. Hinges pre-fucked with, thanks to Eddie’s early meddling.

It didn't hold.

Hinges screamed as the wood bent, before gravity asserted itself and shattered it. Massive wood splinters shoot out in an explosion of wood, more than one piece embedding itself into the manticore.

Eddie scrambled backwards half turned to protect his head, saved from two large chunks of wood only by the grace of his thick leather jacket.

Several things happened at once.

The car outside honked a third time.

The manticore lunged.

And Eddie tripped.

One petal of teeth tore into him--a graze that left his leg a bloody mess and ripped a scream from his mouth.

Gareth and Steve both shot instinctively: Steve to attack the side of the manticore's head, Gareth to slam the fire poker into a wing.

(One second turned into three.)

The manticore in turn, leapt backwards, head shaking with the hit of Steve's bat--and Gareth had exactly one half-second to realize all they had done up until this moment was piss it off before the wing he'd struck swept out.

It struck him in the gut and Steve in the chest, sending both of them flying.

Gareth's back met the floor a second time expelling all the air from his lungs, vision going dark at the edges as his head hit the floor.

(Three seconds turned to seven.)

This time he physically couldn't move, too stunned as Eddie screamed Steve's name.

Stewart, Gareth realized, was screaming too.

(Seven seconds became eighteen, until Gareth's chest could take in air again, the loud ringing in his ears easing somewhat.)

He kept blinking, thinking the weird streaks of orange light was his vision blurring, until his brain kicked in and informed him that no, those were flames he was seeing.

Gareth pushed himself up on his elbows to find that reinforcements had arrived.

Flames flew in an arc as another on-fire tennis ball struck the Manticores side. The ball bounced, flames trickling down to the floor as the monster beast shrieked.

A third ball had it slamming itself into the wall as Gareth whipped his head to the opposite end of the hallway.

Tiff and Dustin were spraying a can of something onto a number of tennis balls--the ones Gareth knew Tiff kept in her car for tennis.

Lucas loaded one into his slingshot, drawing the rubber bands back and holding so that Jeff’s lighter could turn it into a proper weapon.

He launched it once flames encompassed it fully, and Gareth watched as it flew true.

Landed to the right of the muscular, lion--like chest, flames catching every piece of skin that was touched.

A part of Gareth expected this to only distract the fucker, the same way the pieces of wood sticking out of it’s sides had barely slowed it down--but fire, apparently was its weakness.

The manticore reacted like it was being burned with acid more so than fire, dropping and rolling and ping-pinging between walls as more and more of its wing was overtaken.

Its screams turned into rapid, wracked yelps, until finally it threw itself so hard into a wall that it fell through it.

For a moment a dark hole remained open.

Gray pieces of ash lazily floated out, giving them all a glimpse into a terrifying, dark blue forest, red lightning slashing the sky above before the hole re-sealed itself.

(It closed the way a wound did. All sides creeping in at a speed far too fast for human skin, but was just slow enough to make the wall appear like a living membrane instead of wood and plaster.)

For a long moment, the only thing Gareth could hear was all his friends' harsh panting.

"Did you kill it?" Stewart asked, head peeking around the corner.

Eddie looked to Steve to answer.

Which he did.

"Rule number two, man.” Steve raked a hand through his hair, trying to comb out the sweat that had collected at his temples after he climbed to his feet. “If you can’t see the body, it’s not dead.”

Stewart crept cautiously into the hall, looking as shell shocked as Gareth felt. "Why the hell isn't that rule one?”

"I don't know, the kids made the rules. You can ask them.”

Gareth’s head pulsed unhappily, but Gareth had other concerns as he made his way to his feet.

“How bad is it?” He asked as he made his way over, Eddie still on the ground.

“I’m alright.” Eddie lied, as if they all couldn’t see the sticky patch of blood on his torn jeans.

"Stop talking, start walking!" Dustin yelled at them.

“Eddie’s injured, give us a minute!” Steve yelled back. “God. Go make yourself useful and get my medkit!”

“I’m fine, it’s fine! ” Eddie yelled out right after, voice waspish in his pain.

It convinced absolutely no one, and in fact, caused several people to come down the hallway towards him.

Lucky for him, Steve made it there first.

Dropping to his knees in front of Eddie, he gently moved a ringed hand away from the wound, giving it a critical once over as Gareth and Stewart hovered.

“It’s not bad.” Eddie tried to argue, wincing as he poked around his leg, Steve continually having to bat his hands away. “If we can wrap it I’ll be able to walk out of here.”

“I won’t know until I see more of it.” Tiff said, Jeff and Grant right on her heels to circle Eddie and Steve. “But he might be right for once--there’s not much blood. You’re gonna lose the pants though.”

“Noooo.” Eddie said, in a poor mimic of one of his D&D voices.

“Not to rush you, but we need to get out of here.” Jeff cast an anxious look over at the wall, and Gareth nodded his agreement.

This wasn’t a safe place right now.

(Had likely never been a safe place, if it was birthing out monsters like the manticore.)

Steve looked up at Eddie, holding his gaze.

“Think you can hobble over to the cars if two of us help?”

He got a sharp nod back.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now hop to it.” Tiff said with a clap. Her voice was dry, tone almost sarcastic, but Gareth heard the unease in it

Not that anyone needed any convincing to get the hell out of dodge.

("I'm going to take up running." Eddie told him later, hands shaking from pain as Gareth drove Van Helsing after FrankenCar, Grant's Ford Escort

They had managed to wrap Eddie’s leg up in a quick bandage with the medkit. Gareth hadn’t truly been able to bring himself to look at the wound, but he’d caught a glimpse.

The fang marks stood out on Eddie’s pale skin, and ran in so many rows it looked like he’d shoved half his leg into a shark's mouth.

Tiffany insisted it was more horrific looking than it was actually horrific, and given Eddie had made at least three “am I gonna lose the leg, Doc?” jokes, Gareth believed her.

Still--it was weird, to drive Eddie’s van.

Weirder still to see Steve's Beemer (unnamed on grounds that Hellfire couldn't decide between the Batmobile and the BeemHolder) lead their little procession--though it had been a fight to get Steve to drive the car instead of ride along with Eddie.

"We both know you’re not seriously considering going running.” Gareth told him, voice shaking. “Which is unfortunate, because I'm going to make you anyway."

His fingers tightened hard on the steering wheel.

“I’m going to make everyone go running.”

It was a testament to how scared both of them were that they ended the conversation there.

No joke, no walking back what they'd said.

Running apparently, was back to being a core survival skill and Gareth very much enjoyed staying alive.)

xXx

Gareth hadn’t asked why the Byers house was the chosen place to regroup.

Had kind of assumed that it had been picked because Will’s mother wasn’t home.

Definitely was not expecting an adult to come flying out of the door with the air of a frazzled border collie, herding kids inside before freezing when she caught sight of Eddie.

Or rather: Eddie being carefully pulled out of Van Helsing by Steve and Jeff, cursing and whining the whole way.

“You big baby, you’re not that hurt.” Jeff huffed as Eddie’s squirming almost forced him to let go, resulting in Eddie gripping at Steve’s sweater like a liferaft.

“You can talk when you’re the one that got bit by a monster, Jeffrey.” Eddie snapped back, hopping on his good leg. “I almost died!”

“Steve said it just barely grazed you--”

“Steve was busy trying to keep it off of me to really notice what was happening! Unlike you. What were you doing, Jeff? Honking the fucking car horn?”

“I wasn’t the one honking--”

They continued to bicker as Miss Byers marched forward.

Gareth expected her to yell--and given the way Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sight of her, possibly even deny them entrance.

Shoo them away or send them home.

It wouldn’t be the first time a member of Hellfire had been beaten, only for the adults around them to act like they were the ones causing trouble.

Instead, she earned Gareth’s respect immediately by moving alongside Steve and asking; “Is anyone else injured?”

Barely waited for the shake of Steve’s head before spinning on her heel and heading back inside, yelling all the way.

“Will, fetch me towels. Jonathan--get the medkit! ”

“No worries, Miss Byers. Stevie here already has one.” Eddie said, before his attempts to charm her fell utterly flat when he accidentally jostled his leg and hissed out a curse.

“Steve’s not as good as mine, hun.” Her eyes swept over his leg, calculating. “Is that bite what I think it is?”

“Related.” Steve answered, starting the lengthy process of getting Eddie inside.

“Shit.” She sighed, and for the first time that night Gareth realized she too, wore the same haunted look Steve did.

Which meant she'd believe them.

A part of him, the part who was still a teenager, a kid in his own right, relaxed that an adult knew.

As with most of Hellfire, Gareth didn’t typically trust adults, but his relationship with his own parents was slightly better than most of the others. It led him to such beliefs like that maybe, just maybe, this would be the end of the monsters.

That he’d never face a thing like that outside of D&D, ever again. That whatever events haunted Steve would be handled by the proper authorities.

(That they’d be okay. Everyone would be okay.)

Sirens sounded in the distance, and even as Gareth walked inside the house he knew it wasn’t true.

Whatever all this was?

It wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“Munson?” A rumpled Jonathan Byers said, blinking like an owl hit with sunlight as the Steve-Eddie-Jeff procession went past.

He got a half-assed roguish grin and a waggle of fingers while Steve rolled his eyes over Eddie’s head.

“What happened!?” Jonathan asked, as Joyce bustled past him, relieving Jonathan of the medkit.

“It’s a long story, but we have a code red at the lab.”

Gareth knew he was frazzled, purely by the fact his hands once again went to mess with his hair, right after helping Eddie down into a chair.

“Which they knew apparently.”

‘They’ was accompanied by Steve jerking his thumb towards the living room--where the kids were talking to themselves in a huddle.

Outside, the sirens grew louder.

Jonathan looked to the living room and back, before heaving a sigh so world weary it was almost impressive. “Of course they did.”

“Demodog?” Miss Byers asked as she laid out various medical supplies on her kitchen table, pausing every so often to stare at Eddie’s leg.

“It was a manticore!” One of the kids yelled.

Gareth wasn't surprised to learn some of the brats were listening in.

There was a pause, as Miss Byers stared quizzically at Steve.

“It's like a demodog but much larger?” He told her, making an awkward shape with his hands that explained absolutely nothing. “With wings? Oh--and a scorpion tail.”

“It was terrifying.” Stewart added in a mutter, all of Hellfire awkwardly camped themselves around Eddie.

Which wasn’t good, given the frown on Miss Byers face as she carefully cut away even more of his jeans and their shitty attempt at band-aiding his wound.

It was the face of someone who was about to cause pain in an attempt to heal, and knew it.

For all that he was their front-man and self-proclaimed shepherd of Hellfire, Eddie's pain tolerance was absolute shit.

The guy could take a punch well enough, and the rings on his hands meant business when he hit back--but when adrenaline wasn't flowing?

Eddie broke down faster than his van did.

This whole thing was a bit of a sore spot. Something Eddie had admitted once under extreme duress had come from his father repeatedly telling him a man needed to be tough, and a Munson man even tougher.

(The duress in question was during one particularly animated D&D fight.

Eddie had gotten too excited and slapped an open palm down on top of a pointy figure, embedded it well into his skin.

The incident had derailed the campaign entirely and caused Hellfire as a whole to learn that their fearless leader really hated people watching him cry.)

Needless to say, a room full of children, his friends, his crush, and one of said kids' mothers wasn't exactly an ideal set up for Eddie to lose it.

So Gareth set himself up as a sort of barrier, blocking Eddie's view from the living room (and hopefully, vice versa, before making eyes at his friends to do the same.

Thankfully Jeff at least, caught on.

Communication was given through pointed looks and nudging elbows, but quickly enough, Hellfire managed to make a decently solid barrier between the kids (and Jonathan, who was doing an amazing job of chewing out said children) leaving Steve and Gareth as the sole onlookers.

“Alright, someone start talking.” Miss Byers loudly commanded, as she finally unearthed Eddie’s wounds.

To Eddie, she offered a well-used bottle of Tylenol, muttering quiet apologies before she began cleaning his very gross looking wound.

“Hey--” Gareth himself muttered, half praying he’d magically think of an excuse for Steve to fuck off, only to realize Hellfire’s jock had actually moved into the kitchen.

A line of mismatched mugs and cups was taking form on the counter, and it took a minute of carefully looking anywhere but at Eddie as Miss Byers worked to figure out Steve was making hot chocolate.

Figured that was probably smart, given Grant looked so tense Gareth expected his head to explode at any second.

(The loud arguing from the kids as they tried to explain didn't help any.)

A thought that Jonathan also seemed to have, given he put on a voice that sounded far to fatherly for Gareth's comfort and bellowed;

“Alright, enough!”

--which at least got him the silence he wanted.

“One at a time!” Jonathan parented from the living room. “Will, you start. Dustin you’re up next, then Mike, then El.”

He put his hands on his hips and Gareth nearly laughed aloud, because apparently the children weren't the only ones picking up Steve's mannerisms.

“Start from when you decided to sneak out without telling anybody but Steve.”

“If it makes you feel better we didn't actually tell Steve.” Dustin chirped.

Jonathan stared at him, and judging from his face alone Gareth expected utter hell to erupt from his mouth.

Instead they got a sort of quiet: “That does actually make me feel a bit better, thanks.”

Steve scoffed from the kitchen in response, which thankfully covered Eddie’s pained hiss from where Miss Byers was patting hydrogen peroxide into his bite mark.

Unfortunately for Jonathan, the kids came up with their own order and as always, let Dustin and Mike be their talking pieces.

“Like we told everyone else, it started because Will and El sensed something--” One began, right as red and blue lights splashed across the walls.

The source of the siren--a police truck that, judging bu the loud crunch of tires sliding on gravel and a shriek of breaks--had arrived.

Several of the children (plus Grant) cursed.

“Who called Hopper?!”

“He’s El’s dad idiot, of course someone called him.”

“Come on Max didn’t we talk about calling people names--”

Eddie tensed, as did the majority of the room, as loud, pounding footsteps tore up the front porch.

“I called him.” Miss Byers said as she rose from her crouch, apparently done re-bandaging Eddie.

She weaved her way through the room and was nearly taken out by her own front door when it was flung open to reveal the man himself, who looked like he’d spent the night fist-fighting his way through a bar, in the dark.

“El?!” He bellowed, eyes frantically scanning the room before landing on her.

The relief was so immediate it seemed to make him slump for a second.

Or rather, long enough for him to draw in enough air to get out a proper yell. “Someone better start explaining, right now. Starting with you Michael Wheeler!”

It was only then, as the man himself stepped into the light, that Gareth finally figured out why he looked sort of--off.

Unreal even, like a figure stepping out of a dream and into reality.

Jim Hopper, Chief of Hawkins Police Department, was wearing Scooby Doo pajamas.

The top was a faded orange color, boasting an image of a footstep in the center of a magnifying glass.

The bottoms were green, the head of the famed Great Dane patterned all over.

Combined?

It was Gareth's last straw.

‘You cannot be having a panic attack over the Chief’s pajamas.’ A far away part of Gareth thought hysterically, as his vision kaleidoscoped.

God, was he so fucking lame.