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clarks-letterman · 2 years

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I was summoned!Jason craver x male reader

Where m/n is Chrissy innocent twin brother and Jason and came over her house to to take her out but she’s not home so the m/n decided to let him until Chrissy comes back, turns out she went to a have girl sleepover at friends house on a school night.And M/n let Jason stay the night an let Jason sleep on the couch some min later , Jason couldn’t fall asleep the first time so he took his shirt off then try and sleep but couldn’t so he got up to get some water only to see m/n only in his boxers . Let’s just say it just ended up him fucking m/n the kitchen hard and rough

i can't think of a title-

a/n — i am so sorry for this taking so long! it snowballed into being my longest fic, and i rushed the smut so you wouldn't have to wait- (btw i can change the smut, i know it sounds stupid but i kinda hate that i rushed it :// )

warnings — 18+! Minors and fem!aligned DNI! internalized homophobia, smut, bareback (wrap before you tap!), jason carver has a big dick ;)

summary — check the request!

words — 3.9k

~~~

Soft ramblings came from the television as it ran through the loops of magnetic tape, playing out the entirety of Ferris Bueller's Day Off—a personal recommendation from the hair master himself at the Family Video, along with an old copy of Fast Times at Ridgemont High he let you keep. He said that his friend found it redundant to their romantic life, but you were too confused why he lent it to you to care since your rental history refuted anything about it being your kind of movie. And, well, it wasn't. It sat in the tape player for a total of five minutes before you shut it off, replacing it with what was currently filling the background noise. You tipped the couch cushion from sitting slightly too far forward to work on next week's homework, relying on the coffee table to keep yourself steady.

The sun half-slid down the white finish of the wall, making it nearly impossible to tell the color with the golden shine pouring in. It tainted the television with a glare, vanishing in the shade for only a moment as a car pulled into the driveway. Sounding aloud by the tires treading the cemented pathway until it faded, followed by the thud of a car door slamming shut. Time carried a knock from the double set of mahogany doors as the person meandered the small sidewalk leading to the front porch within seconds. You shot up and answered it by the time the third knock struck.

Behind it stood Jason, a smile as vibrant as the floral bouquet in his hands formed when you opened the door. They radiated an air of sweetness that challenged the dominating cologne that hung on his letterman jacket, the spicy bite reaching toward you by a petal's length first.

“Hey, Cunningham, Chris home?”

“Sorry, Jason, you missed her by an hour. Something important?” you kept a hold on the side of the door, ready to wing it shut if anything happened.

“No, surprise date since she said your parents weren’t home,” he explained, letting the flowers defeatedly hang from the bottom up in his lowered hand.

“Oh,” your hand tightened on the door, the temptation to keep his distance growing as the conversation carried.

Jason leaned his free arm against the doorframe, moving closer to you. The door would have to stay open, “Can I come in?”

Jason was intimidating, but not by his own choice. He was never in control of how the things he did affected you; he had a charm that wooed you over and an understanding about you that others failed to grasp, even with how little time you spent together. But, you often had to remind yourself that he was only being nice, and none of it was his fault in how you interpreted it. There was no problem with everything he did to make you fall in love with him. It came with the standard conflicts of wanting to date your sister's boyfriend. They were happy, and you were a creep. That was why you often tried to get out of spending time with him and Chrissy. Being the third wheel was bad enough already, but being the second person in the room to have feelings for the same guy was even worse.

You tried to talk him out of it, hoping he would follow the direction you urged him toward, “Uh, you don’t have to. Chrissy won’t be back until tomorrow. I'll see you then?”

He took hold of your shoulder with a soft grip and held an equally warm smile as before, “Doesn’t mean I can’t spend time with you. We can have some one-on-one guy time, bro. I think that out of everyone in Chris’ family, I haven’t gotten to hang out with you much, and it would be a waste of gas to drive back home, anyways.”

There it was: that stupid Jason charm. Overly kind and friendly, alongside a look that you could never utter the word no to—a natural boy-next-door, no matter how far apart you lived. It became complicated to pinpoint precisely how you felt, given that a guide for who you were remained untyped and unsaid by anyone brave enough to give in to their urges like yours. If Jason was the boy-next-door, you were the Hawkins' hermit.

He passed by you and into the living room, taking your silence as an invitation and reacquainting himself with the walls he had spent hours enclosed by when he watched movies with Chrissy or the big basketball game of the season with your dad. He even joined in on your mom's infrequent binges of various cooking shows and seasons of General Hospital, but none of it was ever with you. Never while you watched the latest release or whatever was playing on cable. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you weren't as avoidant of Jason as you thought. Was he the one who had made an effort to avoid you?

“Aw, good taste. I love this movie!” you joined Jason in the living room, seeing him standing in the golden rays, holding a finger to the television screen.

The copy of Fast Times sat atop the player for Jason to see. His hand traveled from the screen to the tape, picking it up and scanning over the title, "This one's fucking awesome! Tell me, why haven't we hung out more? If I knew you were into this, we could've had so much fun at Benny's place the other night."

"What do you mean?"

He placed it back on the tape-player, "You know, like movies and...stuff."

He said it so casually that you were sure it was the banal genre that a preparatory jock like him would pick out. But you still asked, "What kind?"

He slowly cracked a smile, followed by a laugh, "The kind they don't sell at Family Video."

You let out a forced, dry chuckle to act like you were aware of what he was referencing, your stale giggle joining in strident harmony with his enriched one. After a moment of letting the room fall silent, Jason moved so that he was now filling the space of your dad's bistered recliner, the cushions welcoming him into a world of well-worn ecstasy. You joined him in watching the movie on the adjoining couch and slipped into a comfortable position.

Eventually, you left the seat open to switch out the tapes in the video player, letting it cool for a moment but returning with a heated knowing of embarrassment. The movie advertised a few scenes with nudity, and either gender was bound to make the room fill with an uncomfortable silence. For the first half-an-hour of the film, it was tolerable. There were jokes you didn't get and conflicts that seemed silly, but the scenes of overly exposed women or men had yet to arrive. But, the second half of that hour proved to be the issue.

Fifty-three minutes and five seconds was when things started to go downhill. The main girl of the film lost her top after coming on to her best friend's brother, and what was underneath it plagued the screen. They didn't tempt you, unlike they had for Jason, who, from the corner of your eye, smirked at the television as his hand slid from the chair's arm to his denim-clad crotch, slightly grazing the area. You started to think that this movie was not the right idea to have either of you watching, considering that it was pretty damn close to real life—something you wanted to escape from at the moment. You tried to block out the remainder of the movie and whatever Jason was doing by not watching it, leaning your head back, and sinking deep into the couch.

The moon crawled along the sun's path, letting the light from inside fill the house. They spoke with a soft blink and a buzz as they went out and flickered on into your ears, nudging you awake, "Did I fall asleep?"

It was almost rhetorical, but you hoped to tune out the movie, not throw off your sleep schedule for the night. Your eyes were met with the sight of salt-and-peppery static filling the screen, and to your right, Jason laid back in the recliner, eyes shut but not asleep. He remained unmoved, "I'll sleep here."

He slipped his sneakers past the heels with the point of the other and kicked them over the hassock, letting them fall with a gentle thud.

"You sure? You can stay in Chris' bed since she's not—yeah, you can sleep upstairs."

Jason kicked the footrest back into place with ease, taking a stand on the hardwood floor. He waved you off, "Nah, I can take your dad's chair. He's always sleepin' in it, so I'll see what the big deal is."

He reached for the green and yellow cuff of his letterman jacket, pulling his arm in the opposing direction that he tugged at the edge of his sleeve, slipping it out and doing the same to his other arm. You planned to head to bed but wanted to guarantee he had everything he needed. As if he hadn't spent dozens of nights here before. But he was a guest, and you were the only one home. He didn't know the house as you did. He didn't know of the way the air conditioning never worked right in the summer or how you had to kick the bottom-left corner of the fridge to get it to spit the ice out. So you stayed, just in case.

His hands retreated further up his body and to the neck of his polo, sliding it off as easy as his jacket had let him do. There Jason stood, in waist-high denim flares and nothing else. It wasn't surprising to see him like this, as he had done this before, on the first night he stayed over.

You remembered the first night like you had lived through it the night before; it was in the middle of summer when the sun baked the Earth to a record-breaking high in Hawkins. Your parents were wealthy but not profligate buyers, meaning that the only room with an air conditioner was their own, and the rest of you had to suffer. Barely catching a wink of sleep, you went to the kitchen for a cold glass of water to drink, anything to help stay cool in the triple-degree delirium. You entered the kitchen to find Jason executing the same plan you had come up with mere moments before, gulping down a nearly full glass in seconds, then turning to refill the cup. That was when you noticed he was only in a pair of tight, non-dyed briefs that struggled to fit in the area that they were fighting to keep contained.

It was when you realized your feelings for Jason, two-thirty at night in nothing but the equivalent of a skimpy leaf. One tear and everything would be gone. But that was far from what you focused on at the moment. His body was nice to look at, but the intimacy made your stomach drop and caused your heart to double its pace. Never had another guy been so comfortable around you, going as far as to be nearly stripped down to nothing and still be as relaxed as he was. You had to remind yourself that he didn't know what you were at the time, and he still didn't know now. Later that day, when the sun scaled the wall, Chrissy announced to the family that she and Jason were official.

That was over a year ago, and Jason looked even more stunning. Age broke people, shattered them with time, but Jason wasn't susceptible to that. He went from pristine to unblemished, polished, highlighting his best feature that had only grown.

"Hope it's not a problem," he casually apologized, almost feeling as if he had to say it because it sounded puckish. It acted as a pricked hook, ready to tear you apart but still pulling your mangled mess of emotions to the surface to expose your darkest secret.

"Not at all," you struggled to get the words out, heading off to the stairs right after. Jason called out to you before you could reach the top, offering a quick, "goodnight," that you returned and veered into the hall and your bedroom.

You tried to get a wink of sleep, but nothing overtook the abyssal hole you fell into while trying not to think about Jason on the floor below you. It didn't help that you had just come from a few hours of shut-eye that now seemed impossible to regress into, but you knew that Jason was responsible for keeping you awake. Like many other things, it wasn't his fault—completely and utterly your own head's maladaptive ways. Earlier, it was so easy to fall asleep—ironically because you were near him—but now it felt unachievable to slip away for merely a moment. You figured that a drink—something warm and comforting—would soothe you to sleep, something flavorful to let your mind focus in on.

Jason felt similarly, looking at the white-daubed ceiling. He wished he could peer past—to see you, to see what you wore, how it clung to your body, and how easy it was to remove. He hated that it was his first thing to think of when it came to you, Chrissy's brother. He tried to rationalize it with the fact that you and Chrissy looked alike, and it just so happened to be that you were a guy. He almost convinced himself that what he saw in you was everything he loved about Chrissy, and that's the only reason he thought about you like that. Almost. Jason may have seen a bit of Chrissy in you, but the feeling he got was warmer and undeniably stronger than how he felt with Chrissy. If you and Chrissy looked the same, why did he feel so much different—so much better around you?

Jason kicked back the recliner again, fleeing to the kitchen for a bout of comfort if only temporary as it was. He put a hand under the faucet, bringing it and some water to his face. He needed to cool off and ease his head from everything he had trained himself not to think about while he was here. Smooth velvet crossed his face after he went for a towel.

"This is all stupid," he muttered, leaning against the sink with both hands. The dark outside couldn't help him. He could leave and not say bye, but then there would be lights at home, and he would have to see himself and all the ways he lies to himself there.

Bare feet padded along the cool tile of the kitchen, but it wasn't Jason's own. No, it was yours. He turned, careful not to let his jaw, or a sly comment, slip as he eyed your figure, bare except for a pair of low-hanging boxers.

"What is?" You asked, coolly heading for the cabinet next to him. Jason looked in your direction as you did, eyes slipping down the curve of your lower back and over your ass. He knew he shouldn't look, but you had been so oblivious to his unrequited glances in the past, whether it was at dinner or when you passed in the hall like two ships in the night.

But he struggled to keep it in. He let it out after fighting it for so long. No one was here. He wouldn't have to awkwardly meander to Chrissy's room and think about it for the rest of the night. He could redress himself and leave if you reacted poorly and bury himself in anything that wasn't your stupid, complicated family.

"Just...how everything is right now," he admitted.

You set the empty glass down and turned, much to Jason's dismay, to keep your glance trained on his melancholic expression.

"Is it about Chris?"

That was the only thing he didn't want to hear. Chrissy is what made this complicated, but he made it incomprehensible to sort out.

"It's more about you, actually."

"Oh," You weren't sure what to say other than that. But you didn't have time to think since he continued.

"You're prettier than her," Jason wasn't sure how to say it because he never allowed himself to, only thinking about it when you weren't around.

"Jason—," You interjected, trying to keep him careful with how he handled his words. The second you heard him say that, a small part of you found a glimmer of hope in his compliment. Or it could have been an admittance of his feelings. Whatever it was, the better part of you knew that he shouldn't be saying it at all, no matter how much you wanted him to.

"Stop, please. I need to tell you that I've been fighting something in me since I first came here. And this—this was the last I could take," Jason paused and motioned with his hand to direct toward your boxer-exclusive attire, "I thought it was because you look so much like her, but you're not."

He stopped talking and wrapped you in his arms, warm skin meeting boiling skin, ready to explode but tamed by him. Jason smelled like vanilla and cedarwood and a bit of himself, mixing with the smell of home, giving you a sense that he was home. That this was right. Deserved in the sense that this was what you wanted and longed for and was finally getting.

He pulled away too soon for your liking, but what he followed it with more than made up for it. The light couldn't shine on your face before Jason shadowed it. The space between you left as fast as it came, replaced by the small—but soft—touch of his lips to yours. It was hesitant like he didn't know what exactly to do. Jason kept his hands away from you, though, letting them fly down to reach for the button of his jeans, shoving them to his ankles once undone. Soon enough, you slipped into a passionate furrow, his fingers brushing against your jaw as yours kept a grip on his solid, well-buffed arms.

Jason struggled to find the words to describe how he felt, but there was this magical touch with each point of contact. He felt freer and resolute to take what he wanted from you; both your love and your body. The magic faded as your pressing effort into the kiss started to soften, and he was worried that you had your fill and started to have your doubts. But, in reality, you were ready to go further, even if that journey into the distant arrival was a walk in the dark.

Lips felt the lingering presence of the other's, and eyes held their stare for a silent moment.

"I'm ready, Jason," you asserted. You slipped your hand past the band of his boxers and into the soft, fabric chamber cradling his heavy girth. With only the feel of your fingers surrounding it, giving it a few tugs—understanding that it felt good by the twitch of Jason's face—you could tell it was long and a handful.

Jason kept his eyes on you instead of your hand, not allowing his icy blues to slip, "You know how to handle that thing?"

"Not at all," you proudly admitted. Jason made you feel accepted enough as it was, so another thing to be ashamed of was safe to say around him without eliciting a laugh.

A hand of Jason's took your wrist, reeling your hand from his boxers, "I can show you how to take it."

Jason wasn't being truthful when he offered that. He could show you with the make-shift fleshlight he kept in a drawer, but this was going to be more of a live demonstration for the real thing. He started yanking his boxers down carelessly. In turn, you took a position leaning over the sink, assuming that he would need access to somewhere along the backside of your body, but being wildly inexperienced, you didn't have the slightest clue for what. Briefly, you saw his manhood as you turned to the sink. From what you saw as he set it free, his cock had a bulbous tip that fed into a wider shaft with a few veins running along the length.

Jason's fingers hooked into the hem of your boxers, the cold air meeting your warmed skin. Your ass perked in the chill, and Jason was ready to let it warm against his defined hips. His hand took ahold of his length near the base, sliding his first two fingers to the tip for better aim. The other clamped to your waist, yanking your ass back, causing you to lean more and take a wider stance. He held his cock to your hole, toying with it for a moment.

"Fuck, you're nothing like her," His tip slipped in and out. Then, back in again, "So tight..."

All of that pent-up, building ferocity unleashed itself here as Jason pushed himself in. He was obsessed with how your hole quivered over the presence of his cock, and how the veins vanished and returned with each thrust in and out of you. He loved the exaggerated pop that came with pulling his cock out, teasing the tight-ringed muscle by circling his tip over it before your hole happily enveloped his cock for the whatever-numbered time. He lost count the second he started. His pumps into you were powerful, to the point that you were knocked forward against the sink. At least if the sudden and fast motions made you nautious, the sink stared back at you with an open gutter.

Your name spewed off like a cheer on his lips, repeated cries and pleas out to you, for you to feel good. It was obvious that Jason had been deprived of something like this for what must have been an eternity because only minutes had gone by and he was already a mess. That's when you peaked, your climax. Hearing Jason act desperately to resolve. Ropes of your load sprayed by his third and final thrust, with Jason shooting into you in the seconds following. He kept going, his cock growing slick and your hole emitting gushing sounds as his white-hot hit the tile below with a splat.

Jason unceremoniously pulled out, his cock going soft but still standing semi-proud at his work. Some more of his release piled on the floor, to which you were already heading for a towel. The small clock on the wall caught your eye, two-thirty-one.

On your way back, you asked the only question that came to mind in your clear-headed state, "What's going to happen between you and Chris and everyone else?"

Before you could clean up the mess made by both you and Jason, his warmth took you in, arms extending to hold you. You opened yours into the dark and unknowing, but into him. He was the light.

"We'll figure it out tomorrow."

918 notes · View notes

xspeter · 1 month

Text

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘾𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙋𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙋𝙚𝙣𝙨 (𝙒𝙖𝙞𝙩 𝙐𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙈𝙚 𝘼𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣) / Part One

❣︎ 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

❣︎ Steve remembers the exact moment he ruined everything. He remembers when those blinds closed for the last time, and he lost you for good. But, it’s been a year since then, and Steve is determined to make you fall in love with him again.

❣︎ wc: 16.4k

❣︎ notes: 𝙚𝙭𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙚!𝙖𝙪, jason carver gets handsy with reader but nothing happens, some cussing

reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3

September, 1979

You’d met Steve Harrington a week before your first day of seventh grade. You’d just moved to Hawkins from some small town in Pennsylvania - apparently your parents were big on the small town life - and you had been terrified.

You’d spent your entire life with the same group of kids and the same friends. You didn’t want to leave them, but you didn’t have any choice. And to a thirteen-year-old you, it felt like your parents were stabbing you in the back.

You still remember the tears that rolled down your cheeks as you helped your parents move the boxes holding your childhood items out of the U-Haul and into your brand new bedroom. Your mom did her best to cheer you up, “Look,” She spoke softly, tugging you into her side, “It’s so much bigger than your old room. Isn’t that nice?”

You just cried harder.

It was true, your dads new job in Hawkins was rolling in money like your family had never seen before, but you didn’t care about those kinds of things, you never had. You cared about the people and the memories you had to leave behind.

But, of course, none of that mattered at this point. You’d left. You still had your friends' numbers memorized, but how long would it be before it faded from your mind, and your number faded from theirs? The thought made you nauseous.

You spent that first night sniffling, surrounded by scattered cardboard boxes and various items. You didn’t even have your bed frame yet, the U-Haul had gotten delayed for whatever reason, so you were stuck with a mattress laid onto the dusty hardwood floor.

But, like there is with almost everything, there was a silver lining. Your books.

To most people, books are just that. Books. They’re boring, expensive, and seen as a way to waste time and nothing else. They don’t see them for what they really are.

To you (and your friends back home), a book was an escape. It was the perfect way to spend your time and the perfect hobby, and right now, it was the only thing keeping you from breaking down.

Your current book was about four sisters who all were navigating through different paths in life, and all finding different ways to deal with the world around them. It was a classic, and you saw a bit of yourself in all of the sisters. (The painter a little more than the others in all honesty.)

It was simple yet complex in all the right places and definitely one of your favorite books this year. You continue to read it through glassy eyes, doing your best to keep your mind off of your current situation, when suddenly there’s a bang at your window.

You jump up, arms instinctively hugging the open book to your chest. There was another one, and then another, and then another, before you finally swallow harshly and work up the courage to approach the glass. You placed your book gently onto the hardwood next to you, the spine up as it laid flat, and softly padded towards the noise.

Goosebumps rose onto your skin as you did, your short clad legs attempting to get used to the cold air around you now that you’d left the safety of your blankets.

At first, you couldn’t make anything out except for the house next to you and the starry night sky, but then you saw the cause of the noise. A rock. Someone was throwing rocks at your window.

You furrowed your brows and looked towards the ground, and low-and-behold some boy was standing outside your window. He had dark brown hair, wore a green sweatshirt with what you’re assuming is a school logo on it, and gray shorts.

Hesitantly, you unlocked your window and hauled it up, but not before another rock hurled its way straight at your neck. It hit you smack in the middle of your throat, causing you to choke for a moment and grab at the area. “Ow!”

The boy winced and immediately dropped the rest of the rocks in his hand, (why did he have so many rocks? At least ten fell out of his hand!) “Sorry!” He yelled out.

You glared at him, hand rubbing soothingly at your now sore throat, “Who are you?”

“Uh, Steve - Steve Harrington. I live next door.” He pointed at the house next to you, “You see that window?” He gestured to the one directly across from your own, “That’s my room.”

You nodded, eyes narrowing into thin slits, “Alright, Steve. If your room is right across from mine, why didn’t you just stay up there instead of going through the trouble of pelting rocks at me?”

Steve stills for a moment, and you can physically see the gears turning in his head. “Um,” He stumbles for a moment, “Give me one second.” You can hear him practically sprinting back into his house, his sandals smacking against the ground as he goes, and you can’t help but snicker.

You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t find the twenty seconds you’d spent with the boy so far to be the most enjoyable of this whole week, but it had. It was almost strange to you - to be talking to a boy. All of your friends back home had been girls, and you mostly stayed away from the boys. To you, they felt like unknown territory. What did they like to talk about? What did they like to do for fun? Did they have any interest in a girl like you? Would they ever have any interest in a girl like you?

All of your friends had had a boy like them at some point in time, some of them had already had boyfriends! But not you. No, never you.

Boys didn’t look at you. Steve was the first to ever even show any interest in you at all. It made your stomach flutter.

Soon enough, the light across from you flicks on and you watch curiously as Steve stumbles across piles of clothes and other knick-knacks to reach you. He struggles with the window for a second, before it suddenly pops open with a slight screech.

“Hey,” He smiled, breaths coming out a bit heavy.

Your lips twitched upwards at the corners, “Welcome back.” You teased.

Steve slapped his arms at his sides and let his head dip to the side, his eyes rolling a bit as he did, “I’m sure you missed me.”

You furrowed your brows, “You were gone for, like, five seconds. And I don’t even know you. Why would I miss someone I don’t know?”

“Uh, because I'm super buff and attractive?”

A snort slipped from you at that comment, “Yeah, okay. Keep telling’ yourself that.”

“I will.”

There’s a short pause between the two of you, and you nibble on your bottom lip. You’d never been able to banter so easily with many other people before. It made you excited.

“Soooo, where are you from?” Steve asks, effectively breaking the silence.

You sighed and leaned your elbows against the sill, your chin falling atop your hands, “Pennsylvania.” You answered dryly.

Steve nodded and copied your actions so that you were face to face, “I’ve never been there. I mean, my dad has for his work, but I never have personally.” He rambles.

You click your tongue, “That’s cool.”

Steve nods slowly, “Why’d you guys move?”

“Are you interrogating me?”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

You quickly shake your head, “No, I do. I just wasn’t expecting so many questions,” you chuckled, nervously tucking a stray piece if hair behind your ear, “Um, my dad got a new job here. Some bank job or something, I’m not really sure.”

Steve perked up, “My dad works at the bank too! Maybe they work together.”

You shrugged, “Maybe.”

Steve licked his lips and glanced down at the ground below you. The both of you were only on the second story, but the grass felt so much farther away then it really was. “You don’t seem very excited about it.”

You bit your lip, eyes darting across his tanned skin. The summer had done wonders on him, but you were sure the upcoming school year would fade it away. “Because I’m not.”

“Why?”

You gave him a look, “Would you wanna move away from all your friends?”

Steve paused to think for a moment. To him, leaving Tommy and Carol wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. He could start over and ditch the reputation he’d built, but he knew that wasn’t the answer you were looking for, so instead he said, “No, I guess not.”

You gestured with your hand and huffed out a breath, “My point exactly.”

Steve shrugged, “Well, Hawkins isn’t all bad. It’s not like there’s monsters hiding out around here or something.” He joked.

You could help but laugh along with him. There was something about the way he always had something positive to say to make you feel better, or maybe that was just how you were observing him in the last ten minutes. “You’re funny, you know that?”

Steve scoffed out a laugh, standing back and crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to look nonchalant, “Duh, of course I know that.”

You snickered, “Don't let it get to your head.”

“Too late. I can already feel my skull growing to accommodate.”

Your body shook as you laughed, moving your face under your hands to hide yourself. Steve mentally fist pumped at making you laugh like that, and he prayed he’d hear it again, and soon.

Once your laughter died down and all was left was silence, Steve asked, “Are you going to Hawkins Middle for school? Or did your parents enroll you in that Catholic place down the street?”

You shrugged, “Well, I’ve never heard of the Catholic place down the street, so I’m gonna say Hawkins Middle.”

Steve grinned, “Great! I go there, too. You can totally sit with me at lunch and stuff.”

“I’d be grateful to be allowed in your presence.” You tease, pretending to bow your head.

Steve just smirked, “I’d expect nothing less.”

You and Steve spent practically all night talking. He’d gone down to his kitchen at some point for a snack and came back upstairs with two bowls of chips. After many failed attempts, some including one of you nearly falling to your death, you were able to grab the chip bowl meant for you.

Once both of you were full and content, it was already nearing midnight. If your parents saw you up and talking to Steve, you’d be in so much trouble.

“I think I’d better head to bed.” You mumbled, a sad smile on your face.

Steve nodded and wiped his palms on his pants, “Yeah, me too.”

You didn’t want this to be a one time thing in all honesty. You really, really enjoyed talking to Steve, and you hoped he really, really enjoyed talking to you as well.

You opened your mouth to tell him so, but decided against it, so all that fell from your lips was a simple, “Goodnight, Steve.”

He gave you a sappy smile, “Goodnight…” His eyebrows furrowed and he blinked excessively, “Wait, you never told me your name.”

He was right. You hadn’t realized it, but you never thought to tell Steve your name.

“It’s Y/N.”

Steve just chuckled and placed his hands above his head onto the window, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

❣︎

That following week had been filled with late night conversations between you and Steve. They’d always start the same - you’d be laying in your bed reading a book (you’d gotten your bed frame finally), Steve would throw something at your window, and then you’d talk and share a bowl of chips.

In all honesty, this tradition had become your rock. It felt like the one thing that was really yours in this new town.

That last night before the first day of school, Steve had seemed troubled, his brows crinkled and he wasn’t talking as much as he normally did.

“Whats wrong?” You asked hesitantly. You weren’t sure if you and Steve were at the point in your relationship where you could be open with each other. In all honesty, you were expecting him to say something like oh, i’m fine or nothing, why? But he didn’t, instead he said, “I’m worried about tomorrow.”

You furrowed your brows. Steve had been practically shouting from the rooftops how excited he was for you to meet all of his friends just two days before. “Why?” You asked, “I thought you were excited?”

Steve bit his lip, “I was.” He sighed, “But I went to this pool party at a friends house today and it just.. it reminded me of some stuff I’d forgotten about.” Well, that explained his fresh tan.

You weren’t sure how to reply to him. You didn’t want to push him or make him feel pressured to say anything, but you were also curious. “Was it.. was it bad?”

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Honestly? Um, kind of.” He groaned, eyes shut as he tried to find the words, “Tommy and Carol… they’re not the best people. And I know that I shouldn’t be friends with them but,” he paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose. You wanted to reach out and comfort him. “I feel like I owe them, you know? I was a real lonely kid and they were the first people who ever made an attempt to get to know me, but now…” He trailed off, his forehead hitting the windowsill as he dipped his head.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. You didn’t know Tommy or Carol, the only things you knew about them were what Steve had said, which were only good things.

You crossed your knees, left heel popped as you nibbled on your lower lip in thought. If Steve really felt this bad about whatever they were doing, then the right thing would be to distance from them, but you didn’t know his situation. To Steve, he felt as if he owed them something, even though friendship isn’t something that should have to be repaid.

You sucked in a breath, socked feet tapping rapidly at the hardwood below you, “It’s okay to grow out of friendships, you know?” You mumbled. “It’s happened to me, and we both parted ways happily without some big, dramatic fallout. If you really feel that way about them, maybe it’s time you do the same.”

Steve was silent for a few moments, and you couldn’t help but feel badly for him. “Thanks Y/N, but…” He took a deep breath and shook his head lightly, “I just don’t think that’s something I can do. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

You were a little shocked when he ended the conversation so suddenly, and were worried you’d said something to bother him. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He chuckled softly, messy brown hair falling over his eyes, “Don't worry, It’s not you. But I've really gotta get to bed, okay?”

Unconvinced, you just nod. “Alright… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Steve crashes into his bed with a muffled groan, pink lips pulled down into a frown. In all of reality, he’d gone to this party and boasted to everyone about his new neighbor. And instead of being happy and excited to have a new person in the group, Tommy and Carol had grimaced at the thought.

“What’s her name again?” She asked, legs crossed as she sat on the purple lawn chair.

“Y/N.”

Tommy snickered and leaned over to whisper something in Carol's ear, and she got that knowing smirk on her face. The one that practically dripped venom. “Oh, you little friend can totally hang out with us.” She said, tone heavy with sarcasm, “She seems just peachy!”

Steve’s stomach immediately twisted, his intuition practically screaming at him to realize it’s a setup, and to do everything in his power to keep you away from it.

“Come on, guys,” He grumbled, wiping a hand over his face as water dripped from his hair onto the concrete below him, “will you please just be nice?”

Carol crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips, “What makes you think we’re not gonna be nice to her, Stevie?”

His nose scrunched at the nickname, anytime Carol called him that he knew he’d struck a nerve. “I’m not trying to say you won’t be, it’s just… I really like her and I don’t want her to stop talking to me if you guys do something.”

Carol snorted, her red hair falling over her shoulder as she did, “You like her? You don’t even know her!”

Steve’s cheeks flush a bright pink as he sinks further into his chair. Yes, it was true that he’d grown the tiniest crush on you during your late night talks, but he couldn’t help it! You were so kind and soft-spoken, and you always knew how to make him laugh. And the fact that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen was just the icing on the cake. How could he not fall the smallest bit in love with you?

That next morning you’d been practically shaking in the car. Your mom assured you over and over that it’d be a good day and you’d make lots of new friends, but it wasn’t that you were nervous about.

Sure, school without friends sucked but you could live just fine without them. No, you were worried about Steve. He’d been worried about something his friends had said, and you had a sinking feeling it had something to do with you.

As soon as you stepped foot onto campus you were immediately looking for Steve. You’d seen him leave his house a couple minutes before you did, so you assumed he was already here, you just weren’t sure where.

You swallowed as you walked through the crowded halls. There were groups of girls reuniting after summer vacations spent in Europe, guys with tan skin and even brighter eyes, but no Steve.

You get through your whole first period class with zero sign of the brunette boy, and it’s not until you’re halfway to your second do you catch a glimpse of him. His back is turned to you, but you could recognize that laugh anywhere.

Shyly, you walk up to him. You can see he’s with a freckled boy and red headed girl, who you assume are his friends, Tommy and Carol.

Carol notices you first, and she eyes you up and down with precision. She smacks on her gum before she nudges Tommy and gestures her head in your direction.

The both of them stare at you for so long that by the time you even make it to Steve’s side he’s already turning to face you.

Surprise flashes on his face, but it’s soon replaced with happiness, and then something you can’t quite read. The smile on his face is strained as he says, “Y/N! Hey!”

You give him a small wave back, nerves crawling up your spine at the hungry look Carols giving you. Like you’re her next meal.

“Oh my gosh!” She practically squeals, grabbing your arm and forcing you closer to her. You nearly stumble to the ground from the force but Steve grabs your shoulder and steadies you. “Steve told us so much about you!” She leered, well manicured hands hugging you close to her body.

You pushed away from her gently, uncomfortable with all of the attention, “Oh. That’s nice.” You glance at Steve to try and get a read from him, but his face is blank. He meets your gaze apologetically and crosses his arms over his chest, “Leave her alone, Carol.” He mutters.

Tommy flashes his teeth with a hateful grin, “Oh, come on,” He snickers, “we just wanna know your girlfriend better.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Steve defends, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

Carol rolls her eyes at him and then turns her attention back to you, “Look, why don’t you eat lunch with us today, hm?” She asks, batting her lashes.

Your eyes dart to Steve. You don’t want to invade his space (even though he’d said you could eat lunch with him days ago), and you can tell he’s clearly uncomfortable with the way Tommy and Carol are acting, so you attempt to say, “Oh, I don’t think-”

Carol cuts you off, “We’ll see you there, okay?” She draws out the syllables in the okay, linking her arm with Tommy’s and then walking away without allowing you to answer.

You and Steve watch them go, and you begin to bite your nails, a nervous habit you’d been trying to break. “I didn’t mean to-” You begin, hoping Steve isn’t too angry with you including yourself like this, but he just shakes his head with a sigh. “It’s.. fine. It’s not like Carol gave you much choice.” He attempts to joke, and you let out an awkward laugh.

Steve eyes you, clearly unsure of how to release the tension surrounding the both of you, but the late bell does it for you.

You barely bid him a short goodbye before you’re reaching for the map in your back pocket and leaving Steve behind to stand awkwardly in the hallway alone.

He watches you leave, stomach flipping at whatever he knows Carol must have planned for lunch.

Unlike Tommy, Carol was calculated. Tommy would be mean on the spot, he didn’t really plan out any of the things he did, they more so just happened. But Carol, she’d plan them for weeks.

Once, she’d pretended to be friends with Jacey Collins for nearly the entire fifth grade year just so she could embarrass her at her birthday party. Steve doesn’t know what Carol did, but whatever it was, it was bad enough to make Jacey move schools.

So, yeah, he was a little nervous for lunch.

He was even more nervous every time he’d catch Tommy and Carol giggling with each other, both refusing to tell Steve what the hell they were talking about, and instead promising he’d find out soon enough.

By fourth period, their last period before lunch, Steve had had enough. Carol was whispering something in Tommy’s ear, casually glancing at Steve as she did. Finally fed up, steve smacked his hand on the desk and said, “Carol, whatever you're planning, just quit it, okay? Y/N’s a nice girl, and she doesn’t deserve whatever twisted joke you and numb nuts are planning.” He smacked Tommy upside the head, causing the boy to rub at the spot gently.

Carol glowered, her eyes thin slants, “If you really have that much of an issue with it, why don’t you go sit with your little girlfriend in the bathroom or something. I’m sure she’d love that.” She giggled with a suggestive wiggle of her brows.

Tommy cackled, “I could totally see her and Steve getting it on in the bathroom.”

Steve scrunched his nose, “Gross, man!” He shoved Tommy in his chair, and then focused his attention back onto Carol, “This is the only time I’ve ever asked you to do basically anything for me. So please, just this once, can you just be nice?”

Carols lips thinned into a line as she swung her feet back in forth in her chair, back resting against the plastic seat. “If I leave your little,” she pretended to gag, “girlfriend alone, what’re you gonna do for me?”

Steve should’ve known that Carol Perkins does not do anything for anyone unless there’s something in it for her. He shrugged, “Anything you want.”

A cheshire grin immediately spread onto her glossy lips, “Anything?”

“Yep,” Steve huffed with annoyance, “anything.”

She shared a look with Tommy, the both of them almost looked to be communicating with just their eyes. “Okay,” She suddenly slapped her palms onto her lap, “We want full 24/7 access to your pool for the rest of the summer.”

Steve immediately groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t use the excuse that his parents would get mad at him because his parents were never home anyway and they knew that. That’s why she asked him, because she knew they could get away with practically anything there.

He’s tempted to say no, to refuse and let Carol have her way with you, but then he thinks about the soft smile you get on your face everytime he opens his window, and he knows there’s no way he could do that to you.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” He already knows this is a bad idea, but he reminds himself who he’s doing it for. “The pool is completely yours.”

Carol squeals happily, immediately turning to Tommy to discuss what Steve assumes are the things they’ll do together, but he drowns them out.

All he knows is that you won’t have to be subjected to Carol’s cruelty, and that makes the whole thing worth it.

But, he should’ve known Carol would find a loophole.

By the time lunch came the knot that had formed in Steve’s stomach had disappeared, and he was actually excited to see you.

Tommy spotted you first, a yellow tray in your hand as your eyes darted across the room. “God, she looks like a puppy.” He snickered in Steve’s ear.

Steve shook him off, muttering a quiet shut up under his breath as he made himself known to you.

“Y/N! Hey.” You’d never looked so relieved to see him as you do now, your furrowed brows immediately relaxing. “Hi.” you murmured.

“Uh, I’ll take you to our table.”

You gazed down to his empty hands, “Aren’t you gonna get lunch?”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at your words, “Oh, no. We never eat lunch here.” He gestured with his head to the rest of his friends, who were already sitting and were also without lunch.

Your gaze dropped down to your own tray, and you suddenly felt insecure. At your old school, you and your friends always ate lunch, you didn’t even know it was a thing not to. “Should I…” You trailed off, gesturing to the trash can. Steve immediately shook his head, “Oh, no! I mean if you’re hungry then you should eat.”

You nodded and squared your shoulders. Steve was right, no one was gonna care if you were eating lunch or not. It was just your insecurities speaking.

You gave him a genuine smile and let him lead you to the table, you sat next to him obviously, on the outside of everyone else.

Carol flashed a grin at you, “I’m so happy you decided to come! For a second there we thought you might run off to the bathrooms with the freaks!” She giggled. The comment made your stomach churn, but you were sure it was just some harmless joke, right? You forced a laugh, “Oh, no. I was just confused in the whole lunch situation.” You said, pointing to the empty spaces around them.

Carol hummed, pretending to be intrigued, “Oh, we never eat lunch here. It makes you gain, like, twenty pounds in just a day!” All of Carol's friends giggled, and that nervous feeling in your stomach suddenly came back tenfold.

“Oh,” You swallowed, “I didn’t know that..”

“Of course you didn’t, silly!” She eyed you up and down, “Actually, do you want me to throw that away for you? It’s probably a good thing you don’t eat that you wouldn’t want to..” She trailed off with a wince.

Tommy let out a loud laugh, “Yeah, no offense, but how often did you eat your other schools lunch? It kind of shows.”

“Tommy!” Steve shouted suddenly, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

To you, your body had never really been an insecurity for you. But Carol and Tommy’s comments suddenly have you folding your arms over your stomach in an attempt to hide.

Tommy pursues his lips, “It’s just the truth!”

Steve just scoffed and stood roughly from his spot, “Come on, Y/N.” You immediately followed him, doing your best to avoid Carol's smirk as she watched you walk away.

Steve led you into the empty hallway, hands clenched at his sides in anger. “God, I am so sorry. I should’ve known they’d say some dumb shit like that-”

“Hey, hey,” You shushed him, “It’s fine. You didn’t know. We did the right thing by leaving.”

The guilt still didn’t leave Steve though, because deep down he did know something was going to happen. He knew Carol wouldn’t stop just because Steve offered her something. And the thing about her was she was so subtle about it that it seems like she doesn’t know what she’s saying is mean, when in all actuality, she does.

“No, still, I shouldn’t have let you sit there.”

You sighed, “Look, maybe I just..” You swallowed, “Why don’t we just keep our friendship out of school, okay? I’ll find some friends on my own.”

Steve’s lips parted slightly, eyebrows crinkling together in confusion, “So I'm just supposed to ignore you?”

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips, “I’m not saying that. We just won’t go out of our way to see each other.”

Steve sucked in a breath. Doing that made it seem like he was ashamed to be friends with you, which was honestly anything from the truth. If anything, he was ashamed to be friends with them.

“I don’t want you to think…”

“I won’t think anything,” You reassured, “This was my idea anyway. And besides, this way we can keep everything more private.”

Steve took a breath and let himself soak in the information. You would still be friends, just not at school. Easy.

“Okay,” He said, “I’ll see you tonight then.”

June, 1986

Present Day

Getting a summer job at the bookstore was honestly one of the best things you think you could’ve done. After graduation, and the unfortunate mall fire at Starcourt which destroyed your job at The Gap, you’d been out of work and living with your parents.

For most people, nineteen is a normal age to be living with your parents, especially when you’re putting yourself through school like you are because you’re parents refuse to pay because you chose a local college instead of the prestigious one they’d picked out for you across the country.

Your parents were disappointed with your choices and you knew that, but you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving just yet. There were so many relationships you weren’t ready to end and so many things left unsaid with.. certain people.

Like Robin for example. You’d both met a couple weeks after your seventh grade year started. She was a year younger than you were, but she was still the closest friend you had outside of, well, yeah. Steve.

Yours and Steve’s relationship had grown much more complex as the years went on, and long story short, you didn’t talk to him anymore. It hurt too much to do so.

But, Bookish was almost like an escape for you. Most of the people that came in were either kids with their mothers, usually just beginning to fall in love with books just as you did, or they were elderly people who'd fallen in love with it way before you’d even been born.

Robin working there with you only made it better. She used to work at Scoops Ahoy in the mall, along with he-who-shall-not-be-named, but once it burned down she’d been left without a job just as you had.

She’d been over at your house during spring break, the both of you watching Footloose. You on your back, head hanging off of the edge of your bed. Robin rested her back against the headboard, shoveling another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “You know,” Her words came out muffled, so she paused to let herself chew the rest of her food. “That new bookshop or whatever opened a couple weeks ago. Maybe we should apply there.”

You readjusted so you were leaning back into your elbows, a slight raise of your brow. “Bookish? I just went there the other day.”

Robin nodded and popped another piece of popcorn in her mouth, “Did you see if they were hiring?”

You scrunch your nose, trying to remember. During your visit, you’d been too preoccupied trying to find the best book to purchase and hadn’t really looked. “I have no idea. But, if they're new, they probably have to be.”

Robin agrees with you with a nod of her head, and the both of you decide to finish out the movie and then drive down. Robin unfortunately doesn’t have a license, so that meant you were basically forced to drive her everywhere. Well, either you or Steve.

Robin used to hate Steve, even while you were friends with him. She was one of the only people who was aware of your friendship and what it had turned into, and she constantly reprimanded you for getting involved with a guy like that.

But, once they started working together at Starcourt, her view completely changed, but by that time you and Steve were already avoiding each other like the plague.

You glanced at the window, wondering if maybe Steve was on the other side. You hadn’t opened that window or even the blinds for over a year, too afraid of what you might end up seeing.

“Hey, you ready?” Robin asks, throwing her jacket on and leaning against your doorframe. You swallow, eyes lingering on the blinds before you turn to her with a smile. “Let’s go.”

And that was that. You’d both gotten hired nearly on the spot by the sweet old lady who ran the store.

Bookish was one of those places that made you feel like you were entering a different time. The floor was dark oak wood and the walls were linen, and it was lined with rows and rows of books. Some were neatly displayed while others just stacked messily.

It was June in Indiana, which meant all the electric fans were going and the AC was cranked as high as it could go, but the warmth still seeped into the building.

“It’s so hot!” Robin groaned, leaning over the counter dramatically, “I’m gonna melt.”

You snorted as you continued to organize the books in the fiction section, “It’s not that bad.”

Robin smacked her lips, “You say that now, and then you’ll turn and see i’ve become a puddle on the floor.”

You placed a hand on your heart in false sympathy, eyes closing as you imagined the situation, “That would be so, so completely horrible.” You sniffled, pretending to be sympathetic, then whipped your head to her with a teasing glint in your eye, “But maybe I'd finally be able to get some work done without that constant whining in my ear!”

She scoffed, pretending to be offended. “This is not whining! It’s complaining. There’s a difference.”

You grinned and pushed the cart holding the books back behind the counter, “Doesn’t seem like it to me.”

She just rolls her eyes, slumping back into the counter with her head resting in her hand, “Whatever…” She trails off, eyes wondering across the building, and then she gasps suddenly, “Oh, shit.”

You turn to look at her, eyebrows crinkled, “What's wrong-” She cuts you off by basically pushing you to the wall, her hand covering your eyes.

“What the hell, Robin!” You huff, pushing on her arm in an attempt to release yourself form her hold.

“I am so, so sorry.”

“What are you talking about-” You’re finally able to push her away from you, her arm falling to her side as you blink in an attempt to get used to the lighting again. “Seriously, what is wrong with you?” You question, wiping your hands on your dress.

Robin bites her lip and stares right past you towards the front door, her eyes slightly wide.

You like to think that after so many years of knowing Robin you’ve become an expert on her body language, and right now it was practically screaming one thing. Panic.

Hesitantly, you allow yourself to look towards the front where Robin was staring. Honestly, based off of the look on her face you were expecting a monster or maybe even Tammy Thompson to be standing there, but the reality is much worse.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

Steve Harrington is casually conversing with Mrs. Beck, the old lady who runs the bookstore, like he’s known her for years. He’s got that soft smile on his face he always got when something made him happy, and his hair has grown a little since the last time you saw him. His face looks freshly shaven, and he’s wearing that god-awful bright yellow sweater you’d told him to burn years ago.

“I can explain.” Robin stammers, hands coming up to tug at her shirt the way she always does when she’s nervous.

You scrunch your nose and force yourself to turn away from him. It should’ve been a no-brainer that Steve being here had something to do with her, because you don’t think you’ve ever seen the boy pick up a book willingly his entire life.

You point an accusing finger at her, “What did you do?”

Robin swallows, jaw opening and closing as she tries to find the words to defend herself. Finally, she lets out a loud huff and smacks her hands against her sides, “He needed a job! Keith fired him over at Family Video because he was apparently “stealing all the hot ladies from him”, and I told him to come here without thinking! I promise I immediately regretted it and I tried to talk him out of it but it was like he pulled the application out of thin air!”

You rub your temples in an attempt to calm your budding nerves. You didn’t want to be angry with Robin because she didn’t deserve your anger for offering her friend a job, no matter what your history with said friend is, but you couldn’t help the growing irritation in the pit of your stomach. “Why didn’t you at least tell me? Then I could’ve at least prepared myself!”

Robin stutters over her words, hands gesturing wildly, “Because I knew you’d be mad!”

“I’m not mad!”

“Mad about what?”

You’re almost surprised Steve has the audacity to join the conversation so casually, as if you were still the best of friends who talked every night.

You swallow and squeeze your hands into fists at your sides until your knuckles are a pure shade of white. Robin just stares at him with parted lips, eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Uh,” She swallows, allowing herself to steal a glance at you, who has since paled significantly, “Nothing.”

Steve lets out a huh, his eyes lingering on you, who hasn’t had the courage to turn around and actually look at him, instead leaving him to stare at your back. Steve doesn’t mind though, a little bit of you is more than enough for him.

The three of you are at a stand-still, everyone waiting for one of you to make the first move, for someone to speak, to shout, scream, anything.

But you can’t move because this is the first time you’ve heard his voice in over a year. It's still smooth as butter and music to your ears. It’s the first time you’ve smelt his cologne, pine and oak but still with a hint of the ocean. It’s the first time you’ve been near him, and it hurts.

It hurts because you can’t help but wonder about how different your life would be if Steve hadn’t screwed everything up, if he hadn’t said what he said or did what he did.

The back of your throat begins to ache with an onslaught of tears fighting to be let out, but you swallow them down. You refuse to shed any more tears over him.

“What’re you doing here, Steve?” Even his name hurts to say.

“Robin, uh, she told me Mrs. Beck was hiring and, well, I needed a job..”

You finally whip around and face him, your hair following you as you do and harshly slapping against your face, but you ignore it. “That’s the only reason? I find that a little hard to believe.” You mumble the last part, eyes narrowing as you stare at him. Steve hadn’t realized how much he missed your glare.

“Yeah, it is. Why do you wanna know?” He asks with a suggestive taunt, almost as if he’s daring you to take the bait. You know how his mind works though, so you don’t fall for it.

“I just didn’t know if you finally decided you wanted to learn how to read s’all.”

Steve can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. “I was hoping you’d teach me, actually.”

You scoff, a shiver running up your spine in disgust. Of course he’d say some stupid shit like that, he always knew how to get on your nerves. “In your dreams, Harrington.”

Steve grinned, a snarky remark begging to spill from his lips, but you don’t let him. Instead, you flip him off and nearly jog into the back room, your legs shaking as you go.

Robin can’t help but feel concerned as she watches you leave, seeds of guilt already beginning to grow in her stomach. She furrowed her eyebrows and smacked Steve on the back of the head, causing him to let out a sharp yelp. “What was that for?” He grumbled, hand reaching back to nurse the spot.

“What was that for?” Robin mocked, nostrils flared as she pointed an accusing finger at Steve, “You said you were gonna try and win her back! Newsflash buddy, but making her even more angry than she already is isn’t gonna do that!”

“I know that!” Steve defends, “I know what i’m doing, okay? Just trust me.”

Robin was really beginning to regret this.

❣︎

March, 1981

By the time you and Steve started your freshman year of highschool you’d gotten involved in completely different social circles. Steve stayed with all of his popular friends, and was rapidly climbing the highschool food chain. You on the other hand, well, you were doing the opposite.

You weren’t exactly a weirdo per se, but you definitely weren’t cool enough to be associated with any of the popular kids, and that was completely fine with you.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, but there is no universe where Queen is better than The Beatles. It’s just not a thing!”

“You’re just uneducated! Freddy Mercury is a musical genius!” You argue, pelting a potato chip across your window. It nearly hits him, but loses speed and falls to the grass instead.

He chuckles and leans back in his desk chair. You and Steve had both long since decided to just leave your chairs next to your windows, it only made sense since you spent hours talking each night. “I’m not saying he isn’t, but you’re forgetting about Beatlemania. Last I checked, there was never a thing like that for Queen.”

You groan and cross your arms over your chest, eyes flickering to the Queen vinyls on your shelves. “Just admit you’re wrong so we can move on, please.”

Steve is stubborn. He knows that on all levels, The Beatles are better than Queen. But you have that pleading look on your face, the one with the puppy dog eyes. The one Steve has never been able to say no to. He sighs and throws his head back, a lopsided grin on his face as he admits, “Fine, Queen is better.”

You smile gleefully and cross your legs, “Was that so hard?”

No, it wasn’t. If you looked at Steve like that and asked him to move the world, he’d do so without breaking a sweat.

“Yes, actually. It made me nauseous.”

“You’re such a baby.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t spent these last two years falling in love with Steve Harrington. How could you not when he made it so effortless? Honestly, you didn’t even notice it was happening until one day you looked at him and suddenly it was like the stars aligned in front of you.

Sometimes, you’d catch yourself staring at him for too long at school and would have to physically rip yourself away and back to whatever lesson the teacher was babbling about or whatever rant your friend was on. He was just so… distracting. Especially now that he’d joined the swim team and had begun to fill out his clothes.

But, you could never have Steve. There was too much on the line. The most obvious being your friendship, and that was something you just couldn’t risk losing. It meant too much to you. But, sometimes you still let your mind wonder. You’d let yourself dream of kisses on cheeks, of love confessions done under covers and milkshakes shared over dinner.

You’d always have to stop though, because thinking about it for too long just made you sad.

The obvious fact that nobody outside of your family and Robin knew of your friendship with the boy was also a big problem with this fantasy. You knew how Steve’s friends were. If he began dating you secretly and suddenly stopped being interested in typical, well, boy things, it’d bring up questions that Steve couldn’t answer.

So the general consensus here was that Steve Harrington was off limits for the foreseeable future.

“What're you thinking about in that big brain of yours?” He asks softly, pushing a stray strand of hair out of his face.

You swallow, embarrassed to have been caught but also unsure of how to approach the question. “Nothing. Just.. thinking about this project for school.”

“What is it? Maybe I can help.”

You snorted. Steve was a lot of things - beautiful, funny, athletic - but helpful with anything school related? Absolutely not. “I doubt that.”

“No, seriously,” He straightened in his chair a bit, hitting the backrest comfortably, “hit me.”

You chuckled awkwardly, eyes avoidant. In all actuality, there wasn’t any project, it was just an excuse you made up on the spot. But, maybe you could play this in your favor.

“Well, we read this short story about this girl who’s in love with a guy she can never have, and no matter how many solutions she comes up with in her mind he will always be off-limits from her. We’re supposed to come up with a solution for her to show that, like, nothing is impossible, I guess…” You trailed off at the end, rubbing at your arm uncomfortably.

Steve made a strange noise in the back of his throat, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyebrows knitted together. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, and sucked in your bottom lip nervously. Would he know you were lying?

“That’s a weird project.” He mumbles, completely unaware of your wide eyes. “Uh, yeah, it is.” You stammered, the confused look on Steve’s face made you realize how stupid this was, and you immediately go to discard the entire thing, “Just forget it, It was stupid anyway-”

“I’d tell her to just go for it.”

Your mouth goes dry, “What?”

“I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? He says no? And what if that guy really does like her back, what then? She’ll never know if she doesn’t tell him!”

Your stomach practically explodes in nerves, and you're unsure of what to say. Steve’s looking at you expectantly, but all you can focus on is that one short phrase. She’ll never know if she doesn’t tell him.

It was true, but was it really that simple? No - it’s not. The risks are too great, and sure, Steve makes it seem so easy, but it’s not. Nothing is easy when it comes to your feelings for him.

The one thing you were almost certain of was that Steve doesn’t love you like you love him. It was obvious in the constant stares at prettier girls, with fuller figures and whitened smiles. It was obvious in the kisses he’d share with them behind bleachers, hidden away from prying eyes. It was obvious in the way he’d gush to you about his latest crush, of how beautiful they were and how in love he was. And the funny thing? They were always the opposite of you. More outspoken and confident - not afraid to show a little skin. Something you were envious of.

“But.. What if she does know? And she can never tell him because she knows he’ll reject her and then everything between them will never be the same again?”

Steve is a little surprised by your question, and he begins to feel nervous under your piercing gaze. Why were you asking him this? Did you.. did you know? There was no way you did - he always made sure to keep his feelings hidden away anytime he was with you. He’d fight down the blush, push away the longing - all of it. In all honesty, he was starting to question if this was for a project in the first place.

At first, your project had hit a little close to home, but he didn’t let himself overthink it. But now, his mind was practically swarming with uncharted waters he’d always ignored.

But, still, he amuses the question. “Maybe their relationship will change into the way she wants. She can’t assume the guy doesn’t like her just because he doesn’t show it. Maybe it’s there, and he’s just really good at hiding it.”

You no longer enjoyed this conversation. Now it just hurts - because Steve doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you. He’s giving you hope, and that’s a dangerous thing to have. It was something you couldn’t let yourself have.

You needed to get away from this conversation and honestly just let it die out. You needed to breathe in the fresh air, finally let yourself take a full breath instead of this constricted, shallow breathing you were currently experiencing.

“Do you wanna go for a bike ride?”

Steve snorts, shoulders rising and falling as he does. “Now? It’s almost midnight and we have school tomorrow -”

“I’ll go by myself then.” You’re already slipping in your tennis shoes before Steve can even argue, throwing a jacket on to protect yourself from the cold night.

Steve nearly jumps out of his chair, brown eyes amused and a smile tugging on his lips. Usually he was the one forcing you to sneak out with him, so this was a nice change of pace.

He meets you outside, watching as you wheel your light blue bike away from the side of the house and to the driveway.

“Where are we going?” He asks, throwing a leg over his own bike and gazing at the soft smile on your face.

“Anywhere.”

That's how you both find yourselves now, wide smiles on your faces as you ride through the quiet town. You were used to the quietness of Hawkins, but not like it is now. There’s not a soul in sight, the only thing illuminating the road in front of you being the yellow street lights.

Eventually, you find a nice hilltop to stop at, and the both of you practically collapse onto the grass.

You’re panting slightly from the ride, but you don’t even care. All you can focus on is the starry sky, thousands of different constellations making themselves known to you.

Sometimes, you think Steve is like a constellation. Beautiful to look at and widely studied, but untouchable. Only a select few got to go up and be with the stars, and you weren’t one of them.

“It’s beautiful out here,” You whisper, hands intertwining on your stomach comfortably.

Steve gazes at the side of your face from where he lays next to you, hands behind his head. “Yeah,” He breathes, forcing his gaze away from you and to the stars above, “It really is.”

You’re not sure how long you’re out there with him, you just know by the time you get back home you’re exhausted.

You and Steve barely spoke a word to each other that whole time, only occasionally pointing out a star that shined brighter than the others or made a funny shape.

But, as you collapse onto your bed and drift into a dreamless sleep there’s one thing you’re sure of.

You are in love with Steve Harrington, and you think you always will be.

❣︎

June, 1986

You’ve chosen to completely ignore Steve, even when he attempts to talk to you. You’ll simply stick your nose farther into your book and walk away from him.

You’ll give him some grace though, because he never takes your rejection harshly. He simply watches you walk away with a sigh and turns to talk to Robin about something.

Robin watches you turn tail and practically run away from Steve for what feels like the thousandth time this week, and she’s had enough. “Steve.”

He turns to look at her lazily, hip resting against the counter top and arms crossed against his chest. He’d attempted to ask you what you were reading today because he noticed it was different than the one he’d seen you with for the past couple of days, but as soon as you saw him approach you shot him an icy glare and walked to the other side of the store. He could see you now, sitting in the window nook comfortably.

“I’m not sure if you’re noticed, but you’re not really making any progress here.” Robin scolds in a hushed voice. She wants you to be happy, and for the past year you’ve been anything but. She’s had to comfort you through too many crying sessions, had to stay over because you couldn’t be alone way too many times, and had to watch you close those blinds for the last time and never open them again.

Robin remembers how you were before Steve went and messed everything up, and she selfishly wants that back. Don’t get her wrong, she still loves you more than life itself, but she knows what you’re like when you’re happy, and right now this is not it.

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, “I know that, Robin. But she won’t talk to me.”

She scoffs, “Can you blame her? You broke her heart! Personally, I wouldn’t talk to you either after something like that.”

Steve stares at the floor in front of him, shifting his position so his back is leaning against the counter instead of his hip.

Steve hates thinking about how he treated you during your senior year. Actually, he hates to think about how he treated you nearly all of highschool. You didn’t deserve it, and you were an angel for putting up with it. But, sometimes angels get pushed too hard.

He still remembers the tears that stained your cheeks as you begged him to explain himself, remembers the hoarseness in your voice as you screamed at him to leave. But, he thinks the thing that hurt the most was watching you close those blinds for the last time.

That was when he knew it was over. Anytime you’d argued in the past you’d always kept the blinds open, it was almost like a peace offering, like your silent way of telling him you guys would be okay.

“I don’t…” He swallows, “I don’t know how to fix it.”

Robin can’t help but feel sympathetic for him. She understands why you refuse to talk to him, hell, she’d probably do the same thing. But, she also knows Steve and she understands how much he regrets his decisions back then. She knows how heavily he was influenced by the people around him and the constant pressure to be King Steve.

“You need to show her you’ve changed, not just tell her. I could tell you I had a boyfriend but once you saw me kissing a girl you’d know I wasn’t being truthful.”

Steve can’t help the snort that slips from him at her comparison. But, he knows she’s right. What good is it to sit here and preach to you that he’s a changed man if he doesn’t do anything to prove it to you?

You on the other hand couldn’t even focus on your book. You’d reread the same page twenty times in the last five minutes, and you still had no idea what was going on! Steve was too distracting - and not just because you hated him.

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but sometime in the last year you’d forgotten just how attractive Steve was. The moles that dotted his neck like they’d been crafted by Aphrodite herself, and the way his eyes glimmered a honey brown whenever the sun shined on them. His lips, so pink and sculpted to fit the frame of his face. And don’t even mention his muscles or you might just faint on the spot.

You steal a glance towards him from the corner of your eye, watching as he talks with Robin about something you can’t make out. His head is hung low though, so you can assume it’s nothing good. Maybe she was lecturing him for bothering you, and if you were lucky he’d finally listen.

But, unfortunately luck never seemed to be on your side, and he’s approaching you faster than you can run away. “Y/N.” He has you cornered, your back against the window as you glare daggers at him. What the hell did Robin say?

You refuse to answer, instead choosing to go back to pretending to read your book. Steve doesn’t say anything, he just places his hands on his hips and stares down at you.

You're stubborn though, so you refuse to look at him, no matter how badly you might want to. Steve, seemingly getting the hint, just lets out a loud sigh and says, “I’m going to get food from Bennys, do you want anything?”

Fuck. You loved Bennys. But, you didn’t want Steve to let you saying yes get to his head, so you just let out a harsh no.

“You haven’t eaten since you got here four hours ago, that’s not healthy.”

“I’m not hungry.” You respond dryly. Glancing up at him through your lashes. His lips are pursed and he’s got that look on his face he always gets when he’s annoyed. He shrugs, “Suit yourself.” And then leaves without another word.

For a moment, you’re almost shocked. You’d expected him to fight with you more about it, but you’re not mad that he didn’t.

You practically shoot up and beeline for Robin, who’s already gazing at you like she’s been prepared for this. “God, I hate him!” You groan, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

Robin snorts, hopping onto the countertop and picking at her nails, “Because he offered to buy you food?”

You shoot her a glare, “Because he’s pretending nothing happened between us.”

Robin chews on her bottom lip, glancing up from her chipped nails to a fuming you. “I think he’s just trying to be nice.”

“Since when were you his biggest defender? You were begging me to leave him not even two years ago!”

Robin winces at the memory. It was true, she used to absolutely loathe Steve with everything in her, but that was before and this was now. People change - and Steve Harrington was a prime example of that.

She stays silent, knowing there’s nothing she can say at this current moment that’ll make you feel better.

You force yourself to take a deep breath and lay your forehead onto the counter top, elbows wrapping around your head as you do. You’ve been arguing with yourself on where you stand with Robin lately. On one hand, she’d deliberately offered the one man you couldn’t bear to see a job at the one place you’d felt safe from him without even asking you first, and essentially ruined it for you forever. On the other, she was just a girl helping someone she loved get a job somewhere that wasn’t a shit hole like most of the places in town.

It just wasn’t fair that that place has to be here.

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut, “I just need a second by myself. I’ll come back out if things get too busy.”

Robin just nodded, eyes glued to the floor as you walked past her and into the employee area.

Robin knows you have every right to be mad at her right now, but if risking your friendship was what it took for you to be happy, she’d do it everyday.

By the time Steve gets back the sun has already started to sink below the clouds, and there was only an hour left of your shift.

You were still in the back room, eyes puffy and red with the remnants of tears. It embarrassed you to admit, but you’d let a few tears and sniffles escape you. You were just so frustrated with your situation.

Steve walks behind the counter nonchalantly, large hands reaching into the white plastic bag and pulling out three styrofoam boxes.

Robin furrows her brows at this, only expecting two. “What’s the third one for?”

Steve’s silent for a moment, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Did you really think he was gonna let you go hungry? He knows you - knows you love Bennys like you love breathing. It’s the only reason he got it.

“Y/N.”

“But didn’t she-”

He shoots her a look that shuts her up as she realizes what he did. Her eyes crinkle as she smiles, and opens her box. “Do you want me to take it to her?”

Steve thinks for a moment about what you would want. Logically, he knows you would want Robin to bring it to you, but what would you have wanted before he screwed everything up?

“I’ve got it.”

He grabs your box in one hand and his own in the other, taking a deep breath before he pushes the door open with his hip. You're sitting there, arms crossed over your chest and nails between your teeth. A nervous habit of yours.

You look up, clearly expecting Robin, but your gaze immediately hardens once you realize it’s him. You push your chair out from under you harshly, it screeches across the floor as you do. You grab your jacket that hangs on the back of it and go to walk past him, but he blocks your path. “I brought you something to eat.”

“I said I wasn’t hungry.” You attempt to push past him, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, he gives you that knowing, motherly look of his. The same one he used on Dustin Henderson when he babysat him junior and senior year. “You haven’t eaten since noon, and,” He glances at his watch, “it’s almost seven, Y/N. Pretend it’s not from me, I don’t care, just please eat.”

You're at a standstill for a moment, the both of you staring at each other. You know Steve’s right, but you hate it. It makes you feel nauseous that he knows you so well.

Finally, after much hesitation, you finally sit back down in your chair. Your arms are still crossed and you’re refusing to look at him, but Steve can breathe easy knowing he’s finally getting at least something from you.

He sits across from you and slowly slides your box over to you, which you open lazily.

You wanted to yell at him to go - to leave you alone to eat in peace - but it almost felt nice to feel his presence again. If you focused on it long enough, you could almost pretend it was still that blissful time before senior year. When everything had been perfect.

Steve watches as you open the box and inspect the food carefully. He can tell by the way your eyes widen slightly that you’re surprised by what you see.

“Is this..” You trail off, heart constricting in your chest.

He nods, “You really thought I wouldn’t remember what you like? Please, give me a little credit.” He teases.

You never even knew he had it memorized.

A ghost of a smile plays on your lips, head flooding with memories of late winter nights spent at Bennys with Steve.

You allow yourself to glance up at him, cheeks flushing when you find he’s already staring at you. As soon as his eyes meet yours he smiles, a genuine, crinkle-at-the-corner-of-the-eye smile.

You eat in silence for the rest of your shift, but Steve doesn’t care. Being with you is more than enough.

❣︎

November, 1981

Sophomore year is difficult for you.

Your grandma died just three days before Halloween, and it hit you hard. Steve was with you nearly all the time, not even saying anything, just holding you as you sobbed.

He never quite knew what to say to make you feel better because none of his own family was in his life. As far as was concerned, you were the closest thing he had to that.

Today marked a full week since your grandma passed, and you’d just gotten home from the funeral. He could see you now through his window, laying on your back unmoving in your bed, black dress still heavy on your body.

You’re not even crying, just staring at the ceiling. You’d always heard that grief presented itself in thousands of different ways, but you’d never been subjected to it yourself until now.

Memories of your grandmother and her infectious smile played on repeat in your mind, and sometimes if you focused hard enough, you could pretend she hadn’t died.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you did so, replaying a memory of her from your eleventh birthday party. You’d been crying for some reason you can’t even remember, and she’d stumbled upon you on the floor of your bathroom.

“Oh, Hunny, what happened?” She cooed, closing the door and sliding down next to you. She winced as she did, her knees popping the whole way down, but she didn’t complain. She just threw an arm over your shoulders and pulled you into her.

“I-I’m scared.” You whimpered, hugging your knees to your chest.

“Of what?”

You sniffled and looked into her loving eyes, “You’ll think it’s silly.”

She chuckled, forehead wrinkling with the movement, “No, I won’t.”

You swallowed, scratching at your arm nervously. “Are you sure?”

“I’m your grandma, I’d never laugh at you.”

You swallowed, letting your forehead hit your knees solemnly, “I don’t wanna grow up.” You admitted.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, which made you feel even worse. Getting older was natural and there was nothing you could do to stop it, but it’d hit you that you were growing out of your childhood.

You’d never be as innocent as you once had been, and at some point in your life you’ll never be mommy’s little girl again. And you hated that you just had to accept that.

Your grandma sighed, fingers drawing shapes onto your arm, “I know it’s scary growing up,” She murmured into your ear, “but it’s also good for us. We learn more as we grow, and we get to experience so many new things. Take me and your grandpa for example, we met when we were twenty five. If I'd never grown up, I never would have met him and fallen in love.”

The mention of your grandfather put a smile on your face. He was a sweet old man with a dashing mustache and a love for your grandma so strong you could feel it without even knowing him.

“I guess you’re right.” You sighed, laying your head against her side. She always knew how to make you feel better, it was like her special talent.

That’s why her death hurt so much, because you’d been talking to her less and less the older you got. It wasn’t something you did purposely, but with the move and all the new things that were happening in your life calling her had just never been at the top of your list. Now you wish it had.

You don’t even hear the knock in your door, you only notice Steve’s there when he’s scooting into bed next to you. You welcome him calmly, automatically falling into his open arms. He strokes your back comfortingly, leaving a soft kiss on your hairline. “How’re you feeling?”

You make a noise in the back of your throat, a mix between a whimper and a groan that shatters Steve’s heart. He hates seeing you hurt like this.

“That bad, huh?” He mumbles, squeezing you closer against him.

You choke out a sigh, “I just wish I would’ve called her. I had every chance too and I never did. What kind of- of granddaughter does that?” Your eyes are brimming with tears again, a sob tearing from your throat as you press your face closer into Steve’s neck. He smells like home.

He doesn’t mind that you’re soaking through his white shirt, in fact he barely even notices. “C’mon, Sweetheart. There was no way you could’ve known, and blaming yourself isn’t going to make you feel any better.”

“I-I just… I just wish I would’ve been better.” You hiccuped.

Steve immediately shakes his head, “No, no,” He stands and takes your hand, gently forcing you to your feet, “You’ve gotta get outta here, no way staying in this room all day is healthy for you.”

You sniffle and glance around your bedroom. Its usual warmth feels cold and empty.

“Where would we go?” You ask, gazing at Steve as he wipes your tears with his thumbs. “Anywhere.”

That's how you ended up at Bennys. Steve had recently gotten his license so you no longer had to bike everywhere.

The cloudy sky combined with the glaring overhead lights must wash you out, but Steve’s not sure you’ve ever looked prettier. The black dress compliments you perfectly, and call him selfish, but he thinks the glossiness in your eyes accentuates them so nicely.

You solemnly drink a sprite, biting on the straw occasionally and leaving a permanent indent in the plastic.

You’d heard of Bennys, apparently it was a Hawkins staple, but you’d never been yourself before now. For how popular it apparently was, it's not very busy, just a few stragglers.

You can see the chief of police, Jim Hopper, and a few of his cop buddies in one corner, a couple in a booth across from them, and two old fishermen at the bar.

“I’ve never been here before,” You murmur, watching as Steve’s head lifts from the menu to look up at you. “I’ve only been once with Tommy and Carol,” He says their names with so much disgust it nearly surprises you, “and it was really good.”

You knew Steve wasn’t the biggest fan of his friends, which was still something you found pretty weird. Why be friends with them if you couldn’t stand them? But you also understood Steve’s situation. He had affirmed his status as King Steve at the beginning of the school year, when he’d fought Mitch Mikealson and won. Ever since then he’d gotten more cautious with being seen with you.

And, yeah, it hurts sometimes to see him pretend you didn’t exist. Before, he’d still give you the occasional wave or smile, but now he didn’t even spare you a glance. But, you’d always remind yourself it was fine, because only you got to have the real him. The soft Steve, who’s boyish charm and honeynut eyes made you melt everyday.

You let out a soft huh, glancing over the menu before finally deciding on something. A plain cheeseburger with a side of cheesy fries. How American of you.

After you’ve given the waitress your orders, you both sit in a constricting silence. Steve isn’t sure of what to say to you right now or even how to approach the obvious elephant in the room, but you could hardly even focus on that.

If there’s one thing your grandma's death has taught you, it’s that you can’t let time escape you. You’d pushed off calling your grandma for months, and then suddenly you couldn’t anymore. What happens if you put off telling Steve how you feel for him, and then suddenly you no longer could? Would you feel regret like you do now?

You think you’ve known Steve long enough now to decipher how he’d react. A soft rejection, but without a loss of friendship. You think things would continue how they normally do - maybe a bit awkwardly at first but, still, as they normally do.

Then you consider the other option, which you thought to be the less likely one. On the off chance Steve does like you back, then your entire relationship would change. Would he kiss you in front of his friends? Scream from the rooftops that you were his and he was yours? Or would he hide you away, protect his reputation from your influence?

You weren’t sure.

“What’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

You smile softly at the phrase, glancing up at him through your lashes. He's leaning onto his elbows on the counter, cheeks squished between his hands. You think he looks innocent like this, and a glimpse of his seventh grade self flashes in his eyes, a time before King Steve even existed.

“Just… thinking.” You murmur, playing with your fingers in your lap.

Steve frowns, assuming you’re talking about your grandma, and he says, “I’m really sorry, Y/N. You know I'll be here for you every step of the way, right?”

You warm at his words, stomach twisting in knots. “I know,” You breathe, “we’re best friends. We have to be there for each other.”

Steve's heart constricts at the phrase. Best friends. Was that what he’d always be to you? He wants to be so much more - he wants to sweep you off your feet, show you just how much he loves you. If real love is something teenagers can’t experience, then he’s not sure he ever wants to, because whatever it is he’s feeling for you right now is practically engulfing him whole.

“Yeah,” He smiles weakly, “Best friends.”

Your eyebrows knit at the solemn look on his face, watching as he swishes the straw in his drink with his fingertip.

“Steve-” You begin, but the waitress is approaching you with your food before you can finish. Steve’s grateful for the interruption, not sure if he’s ready to answer whatever it was you were going to ask.

He distracts himself with his food, and you do the same. You're not sure why, but something about the way Steve said best friend made you feel uneasy. Did he not think you guys were? Or did he… did he want something else?

You blink the thought away, forcing yourself not to think of it.

But… what if…

You think of your grandma, how the regret of not calling her filled your entire body until you could barely breathe. Did you want that to happen with Steve? No, you didn’t. So there was only one solution.

The moon is up by the time you get in the car, and you allow Steve to drive you to your spot.

The hilltop where you first rode your bikes to last year had become almost like a comfort place for the both of you. You went anytime either of you were upset, and you always sat in the same positions. You, with your hands laid comfortably on your stomach and him with his hands behind his head. It was basically a routine at this point.

But, tonight, it’d be different. Because you were either about to ruin your friendship with Steve forever, or start something you’d never be able to turn away from.

You’re both silent, but while Steve seems peaceful, you’re anything but. Your mind is running wild with what-ifs, and you anxiously chew on your bottom lip. Just do it, you think, just do it.

“Steve?” You mumble, placing your hands behind your back and sitting up. Steve follows your lead, an eyebrow raised as he does. “Yeah?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and pull your knees into your chest, dress riding up until its hem is at the middle of your knees. “If I.. If I tell you something, you promise you won’t judge me? And- and nothing will happen to our friendship?”

He laughs nervously, “What’re you talking about?”

Just do it, you chant in your mind, Just do it.

You suck in a breath, “I love you. A lot. Like- more than I think should even be humanly possible, and I think I always have. It’s like- like this weight in my chest everytime I see you, you know? Because you’re you and I'm, well, I'm just me. And I tell myself there’s no way you could ever love me back but then you started acting all weird in the diner and I just- I had to know.” By the end of your rambling you’re panting softly, refusing to even look at Steve. You're too afraid of what you might see.

But Steve feels as if an angel herself has just blessed him. You love him?

You love him?

He feels too shocked to even move, heart practically beating out of his chest as he stares at you. The moonlight brings out your features so nicely, and your lips just look so- so kissable.

It’s crazy. He knows it is. But he’s waited so long, and he’s not sure how many times he can imagine the softness of your lips before he needs to feel it. So he does.

He connects his lips with yours so fast you barely even register it. It’s a soft peck, barely even a kiss really, but it’s perfect to you.

He pulls away quickly, hand on your cheek as he stares into your eyes. Only half of his face is visible in the darkness, but it’s enough for you. Because you’re plunging back in like you’ve been starved.

It’s messy, with clattering teeth and wandering hands. You find purchase in his hair, tugging slightly, and he lets you, groaning slightly at the feeling. His hands ghost of your waist nervously, and you reach down and place them comfortably on your hips.

It should be sinful how good he tastes - like strawberries eaten next to the pool on a warm summer day. “S- Steve,” You gasp between his lips, barely able to get the word out before he’s immediately diving back in.

You indulge in it for a few seconds more, before you’re gently pushing him away from you. He pulls back completely, removing his hands from your waist in a panic, “What’s - What’s wrong?” He pants.

You shake your head, assuring him it’s nothing like that. You take a breath, “What does… does this mean that you..?”

Steve has a big dopey smile on his face, tucking a peice of hair behind your ear, “That I love you?” He mumbles, “Because I do. So much. More than I think you’ll ever know.”

It’s those words that confirm what you’d thought for the past two years. Steve is your soulmate, someone you were always meant to find. Suddenly, you’re thankful for the move. Something that had once seemed life ruining has been the opposite - it brought you to your reason for living.

“Then what does this mean for us?” You question.

It’s then that Steve realizes this might not be all great like he thought it would be - because Tommy and Carol were still in the picture. He couldn’t just walk into school holding hands with you as if they hadn’t spent every waking day making fun of you. He never joined, always choosing to stay silent during their tangents, but he never stopped them either.

He swallows, studying your face. Would loving you be enough for him? Could he throw it all away, the parties, the friends, the popularity - if it meant he’d be able to be with you?

He’s not sure.

But what if he can have both? The popularity and you. He’d just have to keep your relationship a secret just like you had been doing for years, it was that simple! But, he doesn’t want to ruin the moment with you right now and get into that. So instead, he kisses you slowly again and murmurs, “We'll figure it out as we go.”

❣︎

July, 1986

It’s been two weeks since what you called The Tolerable Act. AKA, the day Steve Harrington brought you food and also made himself more tolerable.

You wouldn’t be going out of your way to talk to him, but if he approached you you no longer ran. Your responses were always short - but they were responses. Baby steps.

Today, when you walk into work Steve is already there stacking books and organizing shelves. His eyes are almost immediately drawn to you, and not just because he loves seeing you - no, this time, he notices something.

He thinks his heart drops into his stomach for a moment once he sees the guy with you. You're all smiles and giggles, playing with the hem of your lacy white shirt.

Jason Carver stands casually in the doorway, arm thrown above his head as he leans over you. Steve can’t see what he’s saying from here, but whatever it is, it’s making you blush.

Steve’s not even sure what comes over him - but he’s dropping the rest of the books he was organizing messily onto the shelf and speeding over to you before he can even think it through.

Jason notices first, his eyebrows furrowing as he eyes him. Steve gives a tight lipped smile, brown eyes darting between you and Jason.

Steve never really disliked Jason - he was a nice guy. A little pushy at times, but overall he didn’t seem too bad. But, now, watching Jason flirt with you like he knew anything about you made Steve’s stomach twist in the worst way.

Jason didn’t know you. He didn’t know anything about you! Steve knew it was selfish of him to expect you to be hung up on him forever like he was hung up on you, but did you have to bring Jason here?

“Harrington,” Jason said sultry smooth, bringing his arm down and stuffing his hands into his varsity jacket. He’d graduated last month and was still wearing that thing? Steve thought that was a douchey move. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

Steve hummed, “Started a couple weeks ago.”

Jason smirked, “Still working at dumps like this place, huh?” He joked. Steve could see the intentions behind what he said - they were a poke at Steve still living with his parents and not making it into college. He glances at you, but you don’t say anything, instead choosing to keep your eyes on the carpet.

“Still wearing your highschool jacket in public, huh?”

Jason’s gaze hardened just barely, enough for you to not notice, but Steve did. They both just stared at each other for a few moments, almost like they were challenging each other.

“Jason -” Both boys tore their gazes away from each other and onto you, “I’ll see you tonight, okay?” You usher, silently pushing him out. Jason bent down to kiss your cheek, eyes never leaving Steve’s as he did.

Once he was gone, you turned around and tried to make your way past him to clock in, but Steve stopped you. “Jason Carver? Really?”

Your nostrils flared, eyebrows knitting together as you gave him a harsh glare. “Who I talk to isn’t any of your business anymore.”

“That guys a total asshole!”

“And you aren’t?” You retorted, “I’m not sure if you remember, but let me remind you that-”

He cuts you off with a sigh, large hand running through his hair. His shirt rode up as he did, and you had to force yourself not to look at his tanned skin. “I remember.” He mumbled, “But, at least I've tried to better myself. Jason hasn’t! And he doesn’t deserve you, you’re so much better than he ever will be. I can’t believe you don’t realize that.” He took a breath, studying your face.

Jealousy is something Steve wasn’t used to feeling when it came to you. He’d always known that you were his and he was yours, and nothing would ever change that.

But, watching Jason Carver pull all those little giggles and shy smiles out of you that he used to - it hurt more than he liked to admit. His dad would tell him to: “grow up, she's just some girl after all.”

But you aren’t. Steve doesn’t think you ever were.

“Stop doing that!” You choke out. You’re more than fed up “Stop pretending that you’ve changed and that everything is- everything is fine! You played me for years, Steve. And as soon as I'm back together again you just show up here and remind me why I-” You pause, eyes going glassy and nose turning a shade of red, “why I can’t love you anymore. And it hurts - God, it hurts - but, I won’t allow myself to fall apart like I did again. And Jason- Jason likes me. I know he does. So don’t fucking ruin this for me.”

Steve’s silent, arms crossed over his chest as he processes your outburst. He knows he deserves it and it’s something he thinks he needs to hear, but that doesn’t make it any easier. You played me for years, Steve. Did you really think that?

Still, against his better judgment, he watches you as you turn your back to him and stomp into the back room.

You finally let out the sob you were holding in as soon as you’re out of sight, back hitting the cold stone wall. You hate him. Him and his stupid, stupid face and his horrible jokes. You hate that he can make you feel so many inexplicable things with just one sentence - He doesn’t deserve you.

If Jason doesn’t deserve you, then who does?

You avoid Steve your whole shift, and it’s easy, because Steve avoids you too. Robin called out sick which meant it was just the two of you and that made things so much worse.

You can feel his gaze lingering on you every time the clock ticks closer to your date, and it sends a shiver up your spine each time. If it’s because of your nerves about seeing Jason again or your undeniable longing for Steve, you’re not sure.

Once Jason arrives, Steve watches from behind the counter as you take Jason’s hand and let him lead you to his car, a toothy grin highlighting your face.

He sighs, crossing his legs where he stands and leaning onto his forearms. He feels helpless, like he’s an onlooker in his own life, watching you pull farther and farther away from him and not being able to do anything about it.

Jason’s car pulls away, and you watch as Bookish disappears from your line of sight. It feels foreign - leaving Steve behind to go with another guy. If you’d told yourself two years ago this was what your relationship would become, you never would’ve believed it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Harrington?” Jason asks, stealing a glance at you.

You chew on your lip, cherry chapstick lingering on your tongue. “We used to be really close, but we kinda just…” You swallow and play with your fingers in your lap, “grew apart.”

Jason hums, fingertips drumming against the wheel as he drives. “You guys seemed more than close back there.”

You’re stumped. You can’t understand why Jason is so interested in this topic, which is something you really don’t want to talk about with him, and understandably so. You think up a quick excuse, “He’s just protective.”

He scoffs out a laugh, “Protective? No, it was more than that. It was like he- he loved you or something.” He says it like there’s no way that could be true. Like The Steve Harrington couldn’t ever love a girl like you.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Can we talk about something else, please?”

Jason doesn’t say anything and just drives silently. He’d told you he was taking you somewhere special but didn’t specify after that - and as you watch him drive deeper and deeper into the woods you’re beginning to get nervous.

He parks next to Lovers Lake, turning in the radio and immediately shifting his seat back.

You’d heard stories of guys doing this - taking a girl out to hook up with and disguising it as a date.

He's leaning over right as you realize what this is, and you pull away quickly, head nearly hitting the window. “Jason, I thought we were going out?”

“We are. I just thought.. we could have fun first.”

You swallow. This was wrong, you knew it was. Didn’t you deserve to go on a real date like other girls do? What made you so different from them?

But… Maybe this was a real date. Maybe this was what other girls did. And if that was true, shouldn’t you indulge? You’d always been aware your relationship with Steve was different than most other highschool relationships, so maybe you were finally getting a taste of the reality.

You kiss him first, practically surging forward. It’s hard and sloppy. It’s too much. It’s wrong.

You remind yourself that this is what real girls do.

You kiss him harder, holding back the whimper that begs to escape from your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and mint - nothing like Steve.

He pulls you by your hips over the center console awkwardly, your legs banging against the dashboard as you move, but he never breaks apart.

You settle on his lap, letting him push and pull you anyway he wants. He’s in no way soft - wandering hands never asking for permission as he slips them under your shirt. This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong-

“Jason-” You breathe between his hungry lips, attempting to push away, but he grabs the back of your neck and forces you against him again. Your hands push at his chest hard, and he’s so shocked he lets you go.

“What’s your problem?” He pants, eyebrows knitted together.

You want to sob- because what the hell are you doing? Kissing Jason Carver in his car in the middle of nowhere? This is wrong. If this is what other girls do, then you don’t want to be like them.

“Can we-” You suck in a breath, shifting uncomfortably on his lap, “Can we just take a break? Maybe actually talk and try to get to know each other?”

He stares at you coldly for a few moments, blue eyes searching your face for something you’re not sure of. Then he’s laughing - as if you’ve said the funniest thing in the world. His chest convulses as he does, and he attempts to kiss you again but you pull away.

His laughter immediately stops and his face contorts into anger, his nostrils flared. “Are you kidding me?”

“Jason-” You attempt, but he’s pushing you off of him before you can get the word out. You land in the passenger seat uncomfortably, legs at an awkward angle but you feel too unnerved to move.

“You came onto me first!”

He was right, you had kissed him first. It was your fault he thought he’d be getting something else tonight. “I know and i’m sorry, but-”

He cuts you off with a laugh, tongue running over his teeth like a hungry animal. “I mean- there’s no way you’re being serious right now, right?” He asks, “Why the hell do you think I brought you out here? To talk? I thought you were smarter than that.”

Your eyes go wide, jaw hanging open as you process his words. Had you really been so stupid?

He points an accusing finger at you, “If you think any guy is going to want you beyond just fucking you then you’re in for a treat. Now get the fuck out of my car.”

“Jason-”

“Get out!”

So you do. You stumble a bit as your feet hit the grass, barely having any time to close the door before he’s speeding off.

The tears come before you can stop them, arms wrapping around yourself as you stare out into the lake.

The water makes the air feel cooler, so goosebumps form across your skin and cause a shiver up your spine. You don’t know how to get home from here - or to the bookshop. But there is one place you can think of.

You're not sure how long you walk, you just know by the time you reach the hill your feet hurt and your calves feel practically numb.

You collapse onto the grass with a soft groan, immediately hugging your knees to your chest. The tears had long since stopped and were replaced with occasional hiccups, eyes glassy but the tears never falling.

You stare up at the sky, finding comfort in all of the familiar constellations. Lately they’d been the only constant thing in your life, the one thing you knew would always be there and would never go away.

You hate that Steve was right more than you’d like to admit. He doesn’t deserve you, you’re so much better than he ever will be. What right did he have to say something like that to you? It makes you almost nauseous.

Steve Harrington had become something of an anomaly to you over the past year. You’d been told thousands of times that he’d changed by Robin - hell, Steve himself had been making an effort to show you that he’d never make the same mistakes he had again, but it was like you couldn’t accept it.

Your heart had subconsciously built up brick walls to protect yourself from ever being hurt like that again, and any mention of Steve Harrington threatened to tear them down.

You sigh, forehead dipping down to rest on your knees. You’re not sure how you’re going to get home, but right now it’s the last thing in your mind.

“Y/N?”

You’re head shoot’s up, neck craning to see the eyes of the person in front of you.

It doesn’t surprise you once you realize it’s Steve, because who else would be out here this late?

“Hi.” You mumble, head immediately going back to lay on your knees comfortably.

He sits down next to you cautiously, plastic bag falling next to him as he does. He subconsciously makes sure to leave enough distance between the both of you so he doesn’t scare you off. “Where’s your date?”

You close your eyes, breaths coming in shallow as you shift uncomfortably. Your head lols lazily to the side, allowing yourself to get a full view of his face. His eyebrows are raised and his arms are behind him and holding his torso up.

“Probably out being a douche somewhere.”

He chuckles, “That bad, huh?”

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Definitely wasn’t the best date ever.” Not like you had many to compare it to.

“I won’t say it even though I really want to- but just know i’m thinking it really, really hard-”

You roll your eyes, “Just say it.” You huff.

He doesn’t hesitate, “I told you so.”

You mentally conclude that Steve should not be allowed to be right ever. “What are you doing here?” You ask.

Steve’s gaze falls to the grass below, throat bobbing as he swallows. “I needed to clear my head.”

You hum in response and decide not to push it, instead letting your knees stretch in front of you as your hands fall behind you. Your eyes fall to the white Walmart bag next to him and you gesture to it with your head, “What’s in the bag?”

Steve reaches over and pulls out a six pack of cheap beer, the kind you drank when you were trying to get stupid drunk. “I wasn’t planning on having any company, so I hope six’s enough for you.”

You snort, watching as he rips one out of its packaging and hands it to you. You ignore the brush of your hands as you do.

It pops open loudly, and you immediately bring it to your lips, ignoring the burning in your throat as it slides down roughly. Steve does the same, and you both sit in a comfortable silence and drink your respective drinks.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol, but you can’t stop looking at him. Thoughts of how pretty he is run through your mind - but so do others. Like questions of how you became strangers who knew everything about each other so quickly.

“Do you ever wonder about what things would be like if.. if we hadn’t broken up?” You question quietly, eyes lingering on the side of his face.

He doesn’t move for a moment, lips thinning out into a line. He breathes in through his nose, “Sometimes I do. But every time I remember how things are between us I have to stop, because lying to myself almost hurts more than the reality.”

Your hands tighten into fists by your side, and you force back another gulp of the warm drink. “How did we even get here?” You suddenly laugh out, “It doesn’t even feel natural.”

Steve shrugs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Honestly? I’m not really sure. Sometimes it feels like one day I was waking up with you and then the next I wasn’t.” Well, technically that is what happened.

You're not sure if it’s the alcohol that gives you courage, but you finally admit, “Sometimes I hate you for turning us into this.” You mutter, “Sometimes I hate myself for not trying to fix it. But, sometimes I think that is how things were always going to turn out - that maybe we were never meant to be in each other's lives and we somehow screwed up Gods plans and this is our punishment.”

“I don’t think he means it as a punishment.” Steve breathes, finally letting himself look at you, “I think it’s more of a lesson. A reminder, maybe.”

You snort, “Well, I hate this lesson, and I’m ready for it to be over.”

“Me too.”

You don’t argue when Steve scoots closer to you so your legs are touching, shorts rubbing against each other awkwardly.

You and Steve share an actual conversation - one without any arguing or resistance from you. It’s a conversation like you used to have.

You don’t argue when Steve offers you a ride home, showing that his beer is still half-way full. You don’t argue when he tells you good night, in fact you bask in it.

That night when Steve goes to bed, he watches your light flick on and your shadow approach the window. You stand there for a while - contemplating he thinks - and he hopes that you do it. That you open the blinds and show him that everything would be okay again.

But you don’t. You flick the light back off, and go to bed. Leaving the blinds closed.

taglist: @stevesxwhore @billielourdslays @carinacassiopeiae

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #joe keery #joe keery x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x yn #jason carver #stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fanfic #exes to lovers #yn #x reader #robin buckley #Spotify

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harrywavycurly · 10 months

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“Will you be my husband really quick?”: A fake marriage with Eddie Munson AU.

Part 2: Here

Part 3: Here

A/N: I have been wanting to write this prompt for a while and I’m glad y’all want it too! There’s gonna be a part 2 don’t worry.

TW: Cursing and Eddie hits someone and this eludes that your ex wasn’t the nicest.

Eddie is two beers in on what he figured was going to be a normal Friday night at the Hideout when he feels a hand grip his arm as he’s leaned over the bar grabbing a lighter from behind the stack of napkins and straws. He pauses his movements as he looks down at the hand that’s still on his arm and slowly his eyes move upward until they finally land on your face. He notices your eyes are wide and you’re looking everywhere but at him as you scan the room as if you’re looking for someone, Eddie just stands up straight and places the lighter on the bar next to his half empty beer.

“Will you be my husband really quick?” Eddie knows he must be hearing things as you finally make eye contact with him. He watches as you seem to visibly relax a bit as you stare at him with a hopeful look on your face. “Please?” He doesn’t know what it is about you but he feels like if he tells you no he might actually regret it so instead he takes a quick sip of his beer as your hand falls from his arm and before you can react he’s draping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you into him.

“Who’s the target?” Eddie’s voice is low and you can feel his breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear before placing a quick kiss to the side of your head, already playing into his husband role.

“Red shirt by the door.” You answer as one of your arms wrap around his middle, you feel Eddie lean away from you for a moment so he can get a good look at who you’re talking about.

“Jason fucking Carver?” You look up at Eddie who is glaring at the blonde haired man by the door and you feel yourself tense up as Eddie reaches for his beer so he can finish it off. “He your ex or something?” Eddie asks as he places the now empty bottle on the bar and motions to the bartender for another one.

“Yeah he’s uhm my ex.” Eddie can tell by your tone of voice you’re nervous and it makes him wonder what Jason did that caused the two of you to go your separate ways. “I’m sorry this is dumb I shouldn’t have bothered you.” You mumble as you try to move away from him but Eddie is quick to just pull you into him and wrap both arms around your shoulders making your cheek rest on his worn out Metallica shirt.

“Now what kind of husband would I be if I let you storm off like that?” Eddie begins running one of his hands up and down your back making you let out a soft sigh because for the first time in a long time you felt an odd sense of security and who would’ve thought that of all places it’s while wrapped in the arms of a stranger. “I’ve got you okay?” You look up and Eddie is already looking down at you making you feel even more at ease because his eyes are soft and his smile is sweet as he looks at you.

“Okay.” Is all you can say making Eddie’s hold on you tighten slightly as he leans down and places a small kiss to the top of your head in an attempt to help you relax a little more. “Uh so what’s your name?” Eddie laughs as he looks towards the door to check on the location of your ex.

“My name is Eddie.” You just nod and tell him your name in return as your hands somehow find their way into his back pockets as you wrap your arms around his waist. “I can see my wife is a little handsy huh?” You hide your face in his chest as you try to slide your hands from his pockets. “It’s okay sweetheart we’re married remember? No need to be shy.” You can’t help but laugh as Eddie goes back to running his hands up and down your back.

“So how do you know Jason?” You feel Eddie tense up at the mention of your ex’s name and it lets you know whatever memories Eddie has of him aren’t good ones.

“He was my high school’s official asshole.” You look up and rest your chin on Eddie’s chest as you watch his eyes look towards the door of the bar. “I take it he hasn’t changed much?” He asks as he looks down at you with a raised eyebrow making you look away as some memories of your relationship with Jason reply in your head.

“Yeah he hasn’t changed.” Eddie doesn’t miss the way your voice shakes a little as you answer his question.

“I can kick his ass right now if you want me to sweetheart just say the word and he’ll be on the ground.” You may not know Eddie but something tells you he’s not kidding and that he’d get a lot of joy out of beating Jason up. “Let me add that I feel that since I’m your husband it’s kinda my job to beat up your asshole ex boyfriends.” Eddie smiles to himself when he hears you laugh and just shake your head at him.

“As your wife it’s kinda my job to keep you out of trouble.” Eddie lets out a dramatic huff as he drops one of his arms from you so he can reach over and grab his beer and take a long swig from it. “I uh like your rings.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down to yours as he watches you give the rings on his hand that’s holding his beer a good once over.

“Yeah? Which one is your favorite?” He asks as he puts his beer on the bar so he can let you get a better look at his rings. You unwrap your arms from around him so you can take his hand in yours, Eddie tries to ignore how soft your hands feel as you look at his rings giving a lot of attention to his skull one. “You like the skull?” You just nod making Eddie smile because the skull one was also his favorite.

“What are you doing?” Eddie ignores your question as he brings his hand up to his mouth and you feel your eyes go wide as you watch him take his skull ring off and hold it between his lips for a moment before grabbing it. “I can’t take this.” Eddie rolls his eyes as he gently grabs your left hand so he can slide the ring onto your ring finger.

“How are you supposed to be my wife without a ring?” Eddie asks as he reaches over and tucks some of your hair behind your ear.

“You’ve got the be fucking with me.” You feel your heart drop to your stomach as Jason’s voice fills your ears. Eddie’s arm drops from around you so he can turn and block you from Jason’s view. “Not the freak still hanging around the Hideout.” You see Eddie’s hands form into fists as Jason laughs his almost evil sounding laugh.

“Fuck off Carver don’t you have a ball to go toss into a basket or something?” You giggle making Jason move so he can get a look at you, Eddie is quick to move so he’s still standing between you and the ex jock.

“What the fuck is going on?” Eddie looks at you over his shoulder making sure you’re okay and you just give him a reassuring smile as you place your hand on his lower back.

“Just enjoying a night out with my wife.” Jason’s eyes go as wide as golf balls as Eddie explains what the two of you are doing at the Hideout.

“Your wife? Wow okay I mean even you…Munson the town freak can do better than her she’s-” Jason doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Eddie’s fist collides with his cheek knocking him to the ground.

“Next time you think about saying anything about her,” Eddie kneels down as he speaks so he’s only a few inches away from Jason’s face as he groans in pain. “Don’t.” He spits as he stands up and turns so he can grab your hand and walk you towards the back of the bar. “I’m sorry…I am so sorry.” You just shake your head as Eddie’s hands gently cup your face as he looks you over to make sure you’re okay because he’s never gotten into a fight before let alone knocked someone to the ground and that’s the last thing he wanted you to have to deal with tonight.

“It’s okay.” You reassure him as you place your hands over his that are still on your face. “Thank you.” Eddie just shrugs as he gives you a small smile.

“Like I said it’s my job as your husband to beat up your asshole ex boyfriends.” You laugh as Eddie leans in closer, he pauses as he get a few inches from your face. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” Eddie doesn’t have to wait for your answer because your lips are on his in a mater of seconds for a sweet kiss.

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munsons-hellfire · 12 days

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I Always Knew | Eddie Munson

SUMMARY: You fell in love with Eddie over the years. But you feared that he never felt the same way. When you finally break up with Jason and decided your ready to tell Eddie you love him. Your reality is crashed when you catch someone kissing him. Only it's not her he loves.

PAIRINGS: Eddie Munson x Reader, Jason Carver x Reader (brief mentions)

CONTENT WARNING: 18+ MDNI, NSFW, the events of season 4 don't happen (which means Hopper doesn't disappear, no one moves to Cali and reader does know about El and the Upside down), best friends to lovers, both kinda clueless about each others feelings, smut with a plot, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f receiving), angst, fluff, a happy ending.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It was so good to get back to Stranger Things. I honestly missed writing for Eddie. I hope you enjoyed this one shot as much as I enjoyed writing it. The smut could be a little better but I don't write it as much so this is how it turned out.

WORD COUNT: 3.7K

You had been friends with Eddie Munson from the moment you moved into the trailer park in Hawkins Indiana. Eddie was the first person𑁋other than your father𑁋that you left into your life after your mother. You and your father had moved back to his hometown of Hawkins just months after your mother passed away. You felt stuck, like your feet had cemented to the ground and you couldn’t move forward anymore.

Then one night when you were out stargazing to feel closer to your mother, you met Eddie Munson. From the moment he came over to talk to you, you knew one day that you’d marry him. As the two of you grew older neither of you could be separated from each other. Wayne and Bill𑁋your father𑁋couldn’t separate you two from each other. They both knew collectively from the moment that you met that one day you and Eddie would end up together.

They were shocked that neither of you had come forward and admitted your feelings for each other. But a small rift formed between your friendship when you started dating Jason Carver. You should’ve known better, but Jason had you locked under his spell and you thought it would be a way to move on from Eddie. Here you stood, Jason standing in front of you talking about the basketball game and how positive that they were going to win tonight.

But your mind constantly found its way back to Eddie, no matter how hard you tried to avoid thinking about him, you couldn’t. You especially couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d feel on top of you. About the way his cock would feel deep inside you. Just thinking about him that way made you wet between your legs.

“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jason questioned, his eyes trained on you. You were pulled out of your delicious thoughts, staring at your soon to be ex. This was your chance, you’d break up with him and then you’d finally go after Eddie hoping that it wasn’t too late.

“No, I’m not.” You whispered, then you sighed. “I can’t do this anymore Jason.” Your voice was steady as you spoke to him. You watched shock slowly morph into his features.

“What are you saying?” You pulled your eyes away from Jason looking around the hallway seeing a few people staring at you two. Almost like they were waiting for the announcement that you were breaking up with him.

A sigh rips from your throat, “What I’m saying is that I’m breaking up with you.”

A shocked noise left Jason’s mouth. “You can’t break up with me, we’re great together.” Jason said, throwing his hands in the air.

“I can and I am. I’m not meant to be with you, I’m meant to be with someone else.”

With those words you turned away from the basketball player and walked away from him as he called out your name. He didn’t however make a move to stop you. As you started on your journey to find Eddie you were stopped by Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will; all of whom were in Hellfire with Eddie. It was nice of Eddie to take the boys under his wing this year, you loved him a little more seeing the way he treated them. They had needed a good role model other than Steve after everything that had happened over the last few years.

But you could all live a normal life thanks to El defeating the Mind Flayer. You wondered where Max and El were considering that they were all inseparable. You were certain they probably weren’t far, or would be joining them soon enough.

“Is there something I can help you with?” You asked, with a raised brow.

“We heard that you finally broke up with Carver.” Dustin said, his smile taking over his face.

“Wow, that happened not even 5 minutes ago and it spread around quickly.” You pause, keeping your eyes trained on the teens. “I did. Why?” A curious expression appeared on your face as you waited for one of them to answer the question.

“Does this mean that you and Eddie are finally going to get together?” Mike asked. All four of them plus everyone else in your friend group including Steve made it very clear to you and Eddie that you both were perfect for each other. You and Eddie were two pieces to the puzzle that fit perfectly together. Never when you were together though, only if you weren’t around each other.

“You four are something, that’s for sure.” You paused, but allowed a smile to break through and plaster your face. “That being said, I was on my way to find him and talk to him. Any of you happen to know where I might find Eddie? I know I should know but I’ve been distracted as of late.”

Even though you’d asked the question, you knew exactly where Eddie would be. But you wanted to make sure just in case you were wrong. He was in the drama room most likely setting up for tonight’s session for Hellfire.

“Drama room!” They all answered excitedly.

“Great! Thank you!”

With a smile still on your lips you turned again and walked in the direction of the drama room. You were more than ready to admit your feelings to Eddie even if it meant you’d possibly ruin your friendship. You opened the door when you reached the drama room, Eddie was already setting up for tonight’s session which you were excited to see. Eddie looked up from what he was doing and smiled at you. His smile sent a warm feeling through your body.

“Hey, I thought you’d be getting ready for the basketball game.” Eddie said, as he looked back down at what he was setting up.

“Uh, actually, I thought I’d skip out tonight and watch your campaign if that’s okay.” Your voice came out soft as you talked to Eddie. But in reality you just wanted to tell him how much you loved him. How you didn’t want to be apart from him anymore. But nothing would come out, your words were lodged in your throat, they wouldn’t move forward.

“Of course, you know you’re always welcome here.”

You walked over to Eddie and sat down in one of the chairs. One by one the boys started to file into the drama room. El and Max were now with them too. Eventually the campaign started and you kept your eyes on Eddie for the most part. You were memorized by how he explained the storyline and the whole premise of the campaign. Things took a turn for the worst when someone else entered the drama room.

All eyes including yours fell onto her, she was so beautiful. You were nothing compared to her, suddenly you felt so self-conscious. You started to fidget with your fingers as you watched the blond walk up to Eddie, interrupting the session.

“Uh, don’t mind me.” She said softly, then proceeded to give Eddie a kiss to his lips, a quick peck.

But that was enough for you to feel your entire world shatter. She sat down next to him and the campaign continued. Eddie took notice of the way your posture and mood suddenly changed. He thought it was odd but shook it off. As the campaign came to a close and everyone started to pack up, you quickly said your goodbyes to everyone except Eddie and the girl that had missed him. With your back to everyone you let the tears roll down your cheeks.

You weren’t upset that you had broken up with Jason. It was better for you, but you had pushed it off too long and now because of that you were too late to get Eddie, the one you always knew you wanted. Climbing in your car you turned it on and drove out of the school parking lot as fast as you could before Eddie had a chance to catch up to you. When you made it home you climbed out of your car and headed towards your trailer. Your dad was outside, a soft warm smile on his face.

“Hi, darling. How was the basketball game?” He asked, curiously.

“I didn’t go. I broke up with Jason because I realized that I’m in love with Eddie. But now I can’t have him because he’s dating someone else.”

You walked up the steps as you answered your father. The door closed behind you as you stepped into the trailer and headed straight for your room. Bill could hear the sadness in your voice. It broke his heart to see you like this. Once you were inside your room you locked the door, collapsed on your bed and let the rest of the tears out.

☾

Days had passed since you broke up with Jason, you’d also managed to avoid Eddie as well. It even included not going to school for those few days. Each day Eddie stopped by your home after school to talk to you, but you weren’t in the right space to talk to him. Your father would send him away saying that you hadn’t been feeling well. But your dad wasn’t home right now and Eddie needed to see you.

He needed to understand why you wouldn’t talk to him. You were curled into your side, your blanket was wrapped around your entire body and you had a horror movie on. You’d normally watch them with Eddie, but you had it on more so for background noise. The sound was up just enough for you to not hear Eddie enter your trailer.

Your eyes were closed and your cheeks were wet with tears. No matter how hard you had tried to stop crying you just couldn’t stop. It hurt too much. Eddie came up to your cracked door and knocked on it softly.

“It’s me, princess.” Eddie called out, voice soft and sweet as you remembered.

“Go away.”

Your voice was hoarse and low. You gripped your blanket tighter. Eddie ignored you, opening the bedroom door and walking in. He closed it behind him, then Eddie pulled his shoes off and climbed into your bed. You felt the dip of your bed and tried to move away. Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

You were desperate to get away from him. The position that you were currently in wasn’t working for either of you. So Eddie lifted you up and turned your body so your back was on your bed. The metalhead pushed himself in between your legs, and you felt yourself stop breathing for a brief moment. Eddie held your hands above your head, suddenly everything was different.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Eddie questioned, a stern look on his face. You looked up at him finally, his brown eyes staring back at you. But there was something different, his eyes were covered in lust.

“I’m not ignoring you. Let go of me Eddie.” You mumbled looking away from him. Eddie removed a hand from your hands, he reached out and grabbed a hold of your jaw turning it back so he could see your eyes.

“Yes. You. Are.” He paused, eyes skimming down your body before moving back up and resting on your eyes. “I want to know why.”

“Because.” You spoke, your bottom lip trembling as you fought back to hold the tears in. You didn’t need to cry in front of him, not like this.

“Because why?” Eddie pressed.

“I broke up with Jason, because I…” You paused, it was now or never.

“You what?” Eddie let go of your hands and pulled away from your body, he leaned down on his knees but continued to stare at you. You suddenly missed his warmth.

“I broke up with him, I couldn’t bear the thought of being with someone who I didn’t love. Not when the person I love is you. And I wanted to tell you, I did, really. But the words got stuck in my throat and then she came in and kissed you and I knew… I knew that I had missed my time.” You pulled yourself up and moved back towards your headboard, then proceeded to wrap your arms around your legs when you pulled them to your chest.

“That’s why you’ve been ignoring me?” Eddie asked as he paused, running a hand down his face. “Look, she was nothing. I told her she could come watch the campaign session, but I swear I hadn’t planned for her to kiss me, okay. That was the last thing I wanted to happen.” Eddie adjusted himself, coming up next to you and wrapping an arm around you. “I always knew, you know. I always knew that I loved you, and deep down I think I always knew that you loved me too. But I didn’t want to ruin what we had over my feelings. I didn’t want to lose my best friend.”

“Oh, Ed.” You stared up at him, his brown eyes glazing over you. Before you could stop yourself you had your lips on Eddie’s and were kissing him with all the passion you had inside you. When you finally pull back from the heated kiss, you just stare at him. “You could never lose me.”

Eddie closed the space between you, his lips found purchase on yours again. His ringed fingers tangled into your hair, palms resting gently against your cheeks as he continued to kiss you. Eddie helped lower you down on the bed, until he was back between your legs. Your hands tangled into his long brown curly locks as he removed his lips from yours and placed them on your neck. He smirked when a soft moan escaped your lips.

The moan encouraged him to suck your skin in between his lips while his hand wandered down your chest. Finally his hand rested on your breasts, squeezing one before moving to the other. He could feel your nipples grow taut after he touched them. Eddie let off of your skin, pulling back from your body slightly. He looked down at your net to see a bruise forming where he had pulled at the skin. His smirk grew bigger as he stared down at your already blissed out face.

“Is this real?” You asked softly.

“It’s real, baby. Lean up.” Eddie said. You listened to his order and leaned yourself up from the bed slightly. “Good girl.” The words were smooth when they left his mouth, you felt yourself clenching your thighs together as Eddie leaned closer and reached for the bottom of your shirt. He grasped the shirt and started to lift it up your body.

Once the shirt was removed from your body you were left in only your bra, and shorts. Your hair fell back down landing on your chest. He threw your shirt onto the floor then reached forward again. His hands rested on your waist and slid up your back. His fingers unclasped your bra and pulled it off your shoulders. Finally he threw it to the floor and gently pushed you back down towards the mattress.

Eddie leaned down and placed kisses on your chest, slowly moving down. You gasped quietly when Eddie took a nipple into his mouth and started to flick his tongue around it. You closed your eyes, happy with just feeling him on you. Eddie pulled his lips from your nipple and moved to the other repeating the same thing. With his free hand he pinched your other nipple between his index finger and thumb.

Another moan slipped past your lips. He smirked at you, pulling away from your breasts and moving down your body. Eddie left a trail of kisses down your stomach until he reached your pussy. Eddie placed his lips on each thigh, avoiding the one spot you needed him most right now.

“Eddie.” You moaned out, lust filled eyes on him. He looked amazingly handsome between your thighs and you couldn’t help the smile that managed to cover your face. “Please.” You added, your voice barely above a whisper.

“So needy, princess.” Eddie whispered, his hot breath hitting your pussy.

He stuck his tongue out in front of your already wet cunt, then you felt his tongue on you. He licked a strip, moving from the bottom all the way to your clit. He sucked your clit into his mouth liking side to side. Gently he lifted a finger to your entrance and pushed a finger in. You tightened around his finger, a groan left Eddie’s lips causing a shutter to run through your body.

The slurping sound from his tongue ran through your ears, another moan left your lips when Eddie added another finger and curled them inside you hitting that sweet spot. You felt your orgasm inching closer with each lick of his tongue on your clit. You threw your head back, hitting your pillows. Your eyes were squeezed shut, mouth gaped open, your orgasm was so close.

“Eddie, please.” You moaned.

Eddie tugs at your clit, and curls his fingers inside again. When Eddie did that you felt yourself tighten around his fingers. Then he started to pick his pace up, pulling his fingers out only to shove them back inside of you.

“That’s it princess, cum on my fingers.” He whispered.

He stuck his tongue out again softly licking your clit. You shuttered, as you came on his fingers. Your moans echoed around the room as the remnants of your orgasm hit you. Eddie rested his head on your thigh, pulling his fingers from your entrance. You watched with blissed out eyes as he sucked your juices off his digits.

“You taste so divine, princess.” A smile fell onto your lips. Eddie pulls himself away from you, he climbs off the bed and proceeds to remove his clothes one by one. Eddie tugs his boxers off, his cock springs free hitting his stomach, pre-cum drips from the tip. He climbs back onto the bed and hoovers over top of you.

You pull your hand to your mouth and spit on it. Then you reach out and grab a hold of his cock and begin to stroke it. A moan leaves his lips at the feeling of your hand on him. He rests his head against yours. He pushes your hand off his cock and grips it, then you feel him tapping his cock against your clit. A strangled moan leaves your swollen lips.

Eddie smirks, he pulls back, placing his cock at your entrance. You watch as he pushes his cock inside of you. Eddie moans as you grip him tightly. Another moan leaves you, Eddie pushes all the way inside and settles there allowing you to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, I’ve waited so long to feel this close to you.” Eddie whispered.

“Please move.” You stared up at Eddie’s brown eyes. You’d waited long enough too and you needed him to move. He could see the pleading look that covered your face. Eddie pulled back just until the tip of his cock was the only thing that remained inside you. Then he pushed forward slamming back into you. Both of you moaned out in pleasure.

You could feel yourself tighten around Eddie’s cock as he continued the pace he was going. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the bedroom. Another moan fell from your lips, Eddie leaned forward and kissed them swallowing your moan. Eddie moves his fingers down to your clit and starts circling the bud. He pulls another moan from your lips, it echoes in the room when he pulls away to kiss your neck.

Your orgasm was getting closer. Eddie’s hips slammed into yours. Continuous moans left both your mouths as both of you inched closer towards your impending orgasm. Eddie could feel you getting closer. A smile brightened on his face. You placed a hand down on your bed and gripped the sheets tightly, arching your back.

“Fuck, Eddie.” You moaned.

“Are you close?” He whispered breathlessly.

“So close.” You mumbled. Eddie kept his finger on your clit rubbing in fast tight circles. His cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you.

“You gonna cum all over my cock, princess?” You could only nod your head, words weren’t forming on your tongue. “I want to feel you cum.”

“Eddie.” Another whimpered moan left your lips after breathing his name. He felt his orgasm getting closer, but he wanted to feel you cum around his cock first.

“Cum on my cock.”

You obeyed Eddie, a moan falling from your lips. Eddie felt you squeezing him, he went to pull out, however you gripped onto his arms.

“No. Inside.” The words left your mouth and you watched through dazed eyes as Eddie complied and kept himself inside you. He slammed his hips into you a final time cum releasing inside you. Eddie slowed his rhythm down more until his hips stilled. He stared down at you with bright brown eyes. Lust filled eyes, but still bright.

Slowly Eddie removed himself from you, pulling back and climbing off the bed. You stared up at the ceiling, no thoughts in your mind just the blissful aftermath of your post orgasm. When Eddie returned you gasped feeling something could touch your cunt.

“Just cleaning you up, princess.” Eddie threw the cloth in your close basket. He climbed back into the bed and pulled you onto his chest.

“So, what does this mean now?” You asked, finally breaking the silence after the two of you had settled down into the bed.

“It means your mine.” Eddie whispered, placing a soft kiss on your head.

You tilted your head towards him with a smile so bright Eddie always wanted to see it. “I think I can live with that.” You leaned up to him and kissed his lips passionately.

“Good.” You laid your head down on his chest and fell asleep, at some point he had pulled his boxers on and his shirt. And you had your shirt and underwear back on. Finally he fell asleep holding you. An hour later your dad came in calling for you, when he opened the door he stared at you resting in Eddie’s arms. They were wrapped around your waist tightly.

“It’s about damn time.” He whispered, closing the door and walking back down the hallway.

#reader insert #x reader #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #will byers #jason carver

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ambrossart · 6 months

Text

Out of the Loop

summary: eddie went home with someone after prom, and gareth is determined to figure out who it was.

pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: 11k warnings: language, new relationship, eddie's girlfriend is gareth's arch nemesis, silly childhood rivalries, eddie being happy and stupidly in love, jason being an overprotective ass, chrissy being an adorable little cupcake, the reader is chrissy's best friend, the unnamed freak is named grant in this series

series masterpost | series playlist | fanfiction masterlist

On Monday morning, Gareth peddled to school like a man on a mission.

Nothing was getting in his way today, not his mother, who had accidentally washed his Hellfire Club shirt with all his little sister’s dance clothes,

“You know what, honey, I think it looks better this way…”

not his sister, who had been hogging the bathroom all morning because she couldn’t get her hair right,

“Look, you don’t understand the pressure I’m under right now. Becca Singer is finalizing her birthday party guest list today. I have to look my best if I wanna make the cut.”

not the weatherman, who was painfully misinformed when he called for clear, sunny skies today…

and certainly not the piece of crap Chevy that just cut him off in the middle of the crosswalk.

Gareth swerved out of the way and kept on peddling. The rain pelted his face in a spray of ice-cold bullets.

Behind him, the driver yelled, “Hey, watch where you’re going, you little shit!”

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Because Gareth was sitting on a goldmine of information right now. It was truly the scoop of the century. Eddie Munson—that’s right, Eddie “the Freak” Munson—had gone home with somebody after the senior prom.

Who was this mysterious (not to mention incredibly lucky) woman? A curious cheerleader desperate to defy her clique? A rich girl trying to piss off her dad? A shy bookworm who wanted to act out the plot of her favorite romance novel? Who? Who? Gareth’s head was spinning! The question hungrily devoured the rest of his weekend (something Gareth wasn’t too proud to admit, of course, but hey, Sundays were always uneventful days for him). He had to get to school quickly and consult his most trusted sources.

He found Jeff and Grant sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria. Grant was eating the school’s hot breakfast while Jeff sat with his head in his hands, lamenting the sorry state of his love life.

“Tara’s still not talking to me. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna dump me for Patrick McKinney.”

Grant put down his fork. “Wait, you two were dating?”

“No…” Jeff heaved a quiet sigh. “But if we were, she’d definitely dump me for Patrick.”

Grant frowned, sympathetic yet envious of his friend’s plight. “Man, I wish Meg would stop talking to me. She had me on the phone all night yesterday. I think she wants me to be her boyfriend or something.” Grant cringed at the thought. He didn’t have the strength to put up with her. He’d barely survived prom.

“You don’t like her?” Jeff asked.

“Not really,” Grant answered. “I mean, yeah, she’s pretty and all, but as soon as she starts talking—”

Gareth slammed a wrinkled piece of notebook paper onto the table. The loud bang echoed through the entire cafeteria, making a few students gasp and flinch in their chairs. Jeff and Grant didn’t move in the slightest. This was typical Monday morning behavior for Gareth.

“What’s with the pink shirt?” Grant asked, unfazed.

“Doesn’t matter,” Gareth said. They had more pressing matters to discuss. He sat down and folded his hands in front of him, his blue eyes clear and focused. He wasted no time getting straight to the point: “Who’d Eddie go home with after prom?”

Jeff and Grant exchanged a subtle, secret glance.

“How do you know Eddie went home with someone after prom?” Jeff asked.

“Because I called him that night.”

“Why’d you call him?”

“Because I’m a good friend, unlike some people.” Nobody had called him asking how his night went. Gareth sat home alone on Saturday night, eating popcorn and watching old sci-fi movies in his basement, while the rest of his friends had a blast at prom. It wasn’t fair. “I wanted to check in on him because I figured he might be a little depressed after getting rejected by Chrissy. Because let’s be honest here, there was no way that Chrissy was ever gonna dance with him. You all agree with me, right? I’m not just being a dick here. Like, yeah, I know Eddie’s riding high right now because he thinks this year is his year and everything, but… yeah, he was aiming a bit too high with that goal.”

“Can you get to the point, please?” Grant said. “My breakfast is getting cold.”

“Well, multitask, man!” Gareth grabbed Grant’s fork and threw it back onto his tray. “What, you can’t listen and eat at the same time?”

Grant rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast. Gareth carried on with his story:

“So anyway, when I called him on Saturday, I expected him to sound all mopey and depressed, but he wasn’t. Yeah, Eddie wasn’t depressed at all. In fact, he sounded oddly… happy, but also a little bit distracted. You guys see where I’m going with this, right?”

“I hate that I do,” Grant said, struggling to enjoy his food.

“Well, that’s when I started getting suspicious. See, I could tell I didn’t have his full attention, and that’s just so unlike Eddie because he’s normally really good at maintaining proper phone etiquette. Weird, right? So then I got curious and I started listening, and… and I can’t be sure, but I think I heard a girl talking in the background.”

“Maybe it was just the TV,” Grant said.

Gareth shook his head. “No way… I know the difference between a TV voice and a live human voice. Someone was definitely with him.”

“Well, did you recognize the voice?” Jeff asked.

“No, I couldn’t hear well enough.”

Grant’s eyes narrowed. “And yet you’re sure it wasn’t the TV…”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t the TV, you guys. Wake up and smell the coffee! Eddie brought a girl to his house. He brought a girl to his house. She was with him in the room while he was on the phone with me. I could hear her talking. Then Eddie started acting really weird, said he had to go, and rushed me off the phone.”

“Gross,” Grant muttered, sickened. “Yeah, these are details I did not need.”

Gareth’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. “Wait, do you guys think he slept with her?” and that was more than Jeff could handle.

He buried his face in his hands and said, “Please stop. I don’t wanna go to class with these images in my head.”

Grant shrugged. “Maybe it was just a one-night stand.”

Jeff threw him a sharp, side-eyed glare.

“Just saying,” Grant finished, smirking.

“No, I seriously doubt it,” Gareth went on, completely unaware. “Eddie’s not really a one-night stand kinda guy… not by choice, anyway. No, I think this might be the real deal, you guys, ‘cause listen to this: I went to go see him yesterday. Eddie wasn’t home.”

“So?”

“So I think he was with her. I called him last night and asked him where he was all day. He said he was out running errands.” Gareth scrunched up his face at that, doubtful. “Since when does Eddie run errands? So I said, ‘What sort of errands were you running?’ He said he had to swing by the drugstore. I said, ‘Well, what did you need at the drugstore?’ but he wouldn’t answer that. Yeah, he was being awfully mum.”

“Mum?” Jeff repeated to himself, mystified by his friend’s bizarre word choice.

Grant said, “He was probably annoyed that you were digging around in his business. I know I would be.”

“Oh yeah, he was definitely getting annoyed,” Gareth said. “Then he cut the conversation short and told me he was stepping out for the night. That’s when I knew this was serious. Eddie doesn’t just ‘step out’ on a Sunday night. He hardly goes out any night. If he’s not with us, he’s sitting at home and playing songs on his guitar. Yeah, he was definitely with her last night.”

Grant sighed, hoping they’d finally reached the end of this long-winded story. “Well, I guess you cracked the case then, Gareth.”

“But that’s just it, I haven’t!” Gareth said. Grant let out an exhausted moan. “I still don’t know who this girl is. You guys swear you didn’t see Eddie go home with anybody after prom?”

Another secret glance.

“Nope,” Jeff said. “I didn’t see him go home with anyone that night.”

Gareth nodded, disappointed but not yet defeated. “Yeah, I thought you might say that. That’s why I made this.”

He gestured toward the piece of paper on the table. Jeff picked it up and read it over. Then he passed it to Grant so he could do the same.

“Okay, what exactly am I looking at here?” Grant asked.

“It’s a list of suspects,” Gareth said, a proud smile on his face. “Yeah, last night I compiled a list of every girl I’ve ever seen Eddie interact with at school, and then this morning I whittled that list down to what I think are the most likely suspects.”

“Not a very long list,” Jeff said.

“Really?” said Grant. “I was gonna say it’s too long.”

They shared a little chuckle over that. Gareth glowered at them, unamused. He didn’t appreciate them making little jabs about their Dungeon Master’s love life, stagnant as it was.

“You know,” Grant began with ominous deliberation, “I can’t help but notice there’s a name missing from this list.”

Gareth's head snapped back in surprise. “Who?”

“You know who,” Grant said. Beside him, Jeff was holding in a grin.

A disturbing chill crept up Gareth's spine. Then—

BAM!

Your name cracked down from above like a fiendish lightning bolt, striking Gareth and making all the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. For a second, he could see your name so clearly. It loomed before him, ugly and terrible, festering with puss and crawling with maggots, getting pecked savagely by vultures and other scavengers. It made him retch with disgust.

“Oh, very funny…”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Grant said, “there’s no denying that she’s a likely suspect.”

“In fact,” Jeff continued, “some might say she’s the most likely suspect.”

“Yeah, maybe back in middle school,” Gareth said, “but Eddie hasn’t so much as looked at her in years.”

Except for that one time, he thought, remembering the mournful look on his friend’s face that day.

They were all eating lunch when your laughter suddenly sprang up from the other side of the cafeteria, obnoxious and shrill. Eddie glanced your way and his eyes darkened with such hollow sadness. It was as if someone had died.

But that didn’t mean anything, Gareth decided, so he shoved the memory away.

“All right, look, I’ll admit we lost him briefly for that one summer. I dunno how she did it, but somehow she got her claws in him real deep and he was completely under her spell. I won’t deny that. But then Eddie woke up and saw her for what she really is—an ugly green hag! At first, she appears as this beautiful, enchanting woman, but underneath that guise, she’s a wretched old witch who thrives on torment. Yeah, Eddie got over her a long time ago,” and Gareth refused to waste another thought on it.

He snatched the paper from Grant and laid it out in front of him. “Now, here’s what I’m thinking: if we split this up among the three of us, we can get through this list by lunch and then confront Eddie with our findings.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that,” Grant said.

Gareth frowned. “Why not?”

“Because we already know who it is.”

Gareth’s eyes widened in surprised anger. “I KNEW IT! I FUCKING KNEW IT! I knew you two were messing with me this whole time. Sitting there with your smug little faces. Making your little jokes. You know what, screw you guys, I don’t even want your help anymore.”

He stuffed the paper back into his bag, climbed to his feet, and stomped off.

Over his shoulder, Jeff said, “Shoulda gone to prom, man.”

Gareth paused, dejected. “Well, no one would go with me…” He pushed through the double doors and was gone.

Afterward, Grant picked up his milk carton and took a few slow slips.

“You know what,” he said thoughtfully, “Gareth should’ve asked Y/N to prom.”

Jeff chuckled to himself. “Well, she did need a date… Shit, should we have just told him?”

“No,” Grant said. “No, this is something Gareth needs to see with his own eyes.”

Now Gareth, his resolve reignited and burning brighter than ever, was prowling the senior locker area with his suspect list in hand.

Let them keep their secrets, he thought. I don’t need their help. A lot of help they would’ve been, anyway. Yeah, I can solve this mystery all on my own.

And he would.

Gareth was a fantastic investigator, you see. He could win a game of Guess Who? in less than five turns and had a lifetime record of fifty-three wins and only fifteen losses (such losses were unavoidable when you drew an easily guessable character like Anita. Ugh, Anita… with those rosy cheeks and annoying blonde pigtails. His little sister beat him in only two moves after that unlucky draw). Now Gareth would apply those same deductive reasoning skills to this. Ask careful, complex questions. Gather information. Cross those ladies off one by one.

There was only one problem: the girls at Hawkins High weren’t exactly forthcoming about their personal lives, especially when it involved Eddie Munson. In fact, most girls denied ever having spoken to the guy.

Claire Dunnock, the most recent inductee into the popular clique, was being especially difficult.

Her blue eyes shifted back and forth anxiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and then leaned forward to make sure none of her new friends were eavesdropping. Claire had to be very careful. One misstep and she would slide all the way back down the social ladder. She couldn’t afford to let that happen.

Gareth sensed her unease. “Hey, relax,” he told her, “I’m not here to ruin your reputation, okay? This conversation stays between us. You have my word.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Claire said. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak.”

“Hey, that freak is my best friend,” Gareth said. “And you and I both know that’s not true, Claire. I saw you get into his van that one—”

Claire seized him by the arm and hissed, “Shut up!” Her eyes blazed with fearful, self-protective rage. “Look, that was a year ago, okay? I was a stupid junior who didn’t know any better. Eddie and I had a class together. I guess I got a little curious, but that’s it. We hung out once and I never spoke to him again.” Loosening her grip, she said, “Besides, he was nothing but a big disappointment, anyway.”

Anger flared in Gareth’s chest. “All right, that's it. I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you slander my friend.”

“It’s not slander if it’s true,” Claire said.

Gareth didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Look, just answer my question, okay? Did you go home with Eddie after prom or not?”

“Of course not,” Claire answered, practically cackling at the thought.

(Why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“I went to prom with my boyfriend. I was with him all night. Ask anyone.” Claire swung her locker door closed, put her hand on her hip, and raised her eyebrows impatiently. “Are we done now?” She walked off to join the rest of her friends.

Gareth glared at her back, his insides boiling with indignation and righteous fury.

You got curious and Eddie got his heart broken. Again.

He crossed out Claire’s name with his pen.

Two suspects down. Eight more to go.

He tucked his pen behind his ear, turned, and suddenly the hallway froze over! Okay, that didn’t actually happen, but a bitter wind did blow. Gareth felt it on his face as soon as he saw you step out from around the corner.

Coincidence?

Doubtful.

You were wearing blue jeans and a Fleetwood Mac shirt. Yeah, you would like Fleetwood Mac, Gareth thought, scoffing. As usual, you were walking side by side with Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend since elementary school. She was smiling and laughing at one of your jokes. Laughing out of politeness, probably. Why you two were friends, Gareth would never know. Chrissy was sweet like cotton candy and you were so… so…

(evil, pure evil)

rotten to the core, like moldy fruit.

“I swear,” you said with a groan, “it’ll be weeks before your mom lets me into the house again. God, she’s such a prude. How was I supposed to know she was gonna invite the whole family over for Sunday brunch? At least I was dressed up for the occasion.”

Chrissy looked at you in baffled amusement. “You were still wearing your prom dress.”

“And it was a very nice prom dress. Your grandma even complimented it. She said it made me look like Madonna.” You weren’t too thrilled about that comparison, but who were you to pass up a free compliment? “Now your mom, on the other hand… man, if looks could kill… I probably would’ve choked on one of those blueberry scones she was serving, which were a tad overbaked if I’m being honest.”

Chrissy went to her locker and fiddled with the padlock for a second before opening it. You stood patiently beside her, the wall clock barely within view.

It was a quarter past eight, you noted with a frown. Was Eddie here already or…?

While hanging up her pink backpack, Chrissy said, “Yeah, she definitely had some colorful words to describe you last night.”

You turned your attention back to her. “Your mom called me a slut, didn’t she?”

Chrissy didn’t answer at first. She was busy unloading her homework. While she was doing that, one of her fellow cheerleaders snuck up behind her, tapped her on the shoulder, and gave a cheerful, heartfelt hello. Chrissy hugged her and asked how her weekend was. The two chatted casually for a minute and then the girl went on her way. Never so much as glanced at you.

“Umm, I believe she used the word harlot,” Chrissy said to you afterward.

“Oh, she got biblical, huh?” Great, you thought, as if that woman didn’t despise you enough already. “You know, I don’t understand your mom. First I’m too fat to be your friend. Now I’m too much of a slut. That lady needs to pick a lane and stay in it… and then drive herself right off a cliff.”

Chrissy threw you a friendly glare.

“Just kidding,” you said. “You know I love your mom. She keeps me grounded. Without her, I might develop a healthy self-esteem, and we all know how dangerous that is. Yeah, that might lead to confidence and success… perhaps even lifelong happiness.”

Ignoring you (or pretending to), Chrissy started digging through her backpack again. “Dammit,” she said under her breath, “I think I left my pencil case at home.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jason has a pencil for you.” You smiled inwardly—a willful, wicked smile. “Then again…”

Chrissy pushed her locker closed, grabbed both your hands, backed you up against the lockers, and brought her face really close to yours. “Shut up,” she whispered in half-hearted anger, a rosy blush blooming on the apples of her cheeks.

You took one look at her and busted out laughing. Chrissy started laughing, too.

“I hate you so much,” she said, and released you.

“I know,” you replied affectionately. “But see, this is why the whole situation with your mom is so funny to me. I’m the one who’s still a virgin, yet somehow it’s me who gets labeled the…”

You spotted a familiar face down the hall.

“Gareth?” You leaned toward him, squinting. “What are you doing in the senior locker area?”

The sound of your voice made him flinch. “Nothing,” he said, acting strangely defensive for some reason.

That’s when you noticed the piece of paper in his hand. You gestured toward it with your chin and said, “What’s that you got there? Is that a love letter? You finally asking someone out on a date? Will you go out with me? Check yes or no. Who’s the lucky lady? Wait, aren’t you a little young to be dating?”

Gareth hid the paper behind his back and glared at you. “We’re the same age.”

“And yet I’m a senior and you’re a junior. Hmm, how did that happen?” You tipped your head and smiled at him. “You’ve got company, by the way.”

“Huh?” Gareth stepped back and—

A hand landed on his shoulder, closed around his flannel shirt, and spun him around. Gareth jumped back, swallowing a scream. He was now standing nose to chest with Ben Jabruski, outside linebacker and two-time defensive player of the year. Eric Kordell stood beside him, smaller but no less intimidating. His brown eyes gleamed with feral, territorial aggression.

“Get outta here, freak,” Eric said.

Gareth squared up to him, unafraid. “Last time I checked this was a free country.” He wrenched his shirt out of Ben’s grip, careful not to tear his favorite flannel. It was a Christmas gift from his mother.

While he was distracted, Eric reached out and ripped the paper out of Gareth’s hand.

“Hey, give that back!”

“What’s this?” Eric asked. He opened the paper and studied it for a minute. His expression went from amused to curious to downright furious. He crushed the list in his fist. “Why’s my girlfriend on here?”

“Oh…” Panic shot up Gareth’s spine. He took a step back and let loose a nervous chuckle. “Oh… you must be Claire’s boyfriend. You know, I heard you two had a lovely time at prom.”

He turned on his heel and took off running down the hallway.

“Bye, Gareth!” you said, fluttering your fingers as he passed. Then you looked back at Chrissy with a smile. “God, I love that kid…”

You went to your locker after that, ignoring all the busy little voices, the occasional odd glance and stifled giggle you received from the other students. Chrissy followed with her first-period textbook cradled in her arms.

“Just ignore them,” she told you.

“I already am,” you said… but then you saw Sarah, Sally, and Stacy huddled around Stacy’s locker. Talking about their hair. Talking about their clothes. Stirring their black cauldron of boiling bones and animal guts. Sarah looked at you, whispered something to Sally, who passed the same message on to Stacy, and all three of them tittered gleefully at your expense.

“Just ignore them,” Chrissy said.

“I will,” you said, but first—

You whipped around and burst out: “So which one of you got knocked up after prom? My money’s on you, Stacy.”

Chrissy, dismayed but secretly delighted, tugged gently on your right elbow. Before going with her, you tossed Satan’s mistress (AKA Stacy Raab) a snide little wink. Stacy rolled her eyes in disgust.

“Stop it,” Chrissy said.

“They started it.”

“I know… but stop it. You’re better than that.”

At the end of the hallway, you spotted Chance Gallagher standing in front of his open locker, wearing the same green letterman jacket that he wore when he asked you to prom six weeks ago. Chance closed his locker and caught your eye for a moment. Then he gave you a small, apologetic smile.

What was he apologizing for? For asking you to prom, getting your hopes up, and then humiliating you in front of the entire senior class? You weren’t sorry he did it. In fact, you were glad he did it. Yeah, you wanted to go up to him, shake his hand, and thank him for being such a spineless little worm. If he were a decent guy, your night might have gone differently, and you were quite pleased with how your night went. So thank you, Chance. Thank you for being a complete scumbag. Maybe I should write him a thank-you note.

Smiling, you turned back around. As you did, you stole another quick glance at the clock on the wall.

Eight-nineteen…

You sighed.

… and now eight-twenty.

“He’s running late, huh?” Chrissy said. You looked her way and she flashed you a sweet, teasing smile. “I know you’re waiting for him.”

A small flush of heat tickled your cheeks, threatening to set your whole face on fire. Resisting it, you grabbed your padlock and started spinning the dial: three turns to the right, one full turn to the left, another quick turn to the right, and

“Are you nervous about seeing him?”

you missed the last number and had to start all over again.

“Kind of,” you admitted. “Is that weird?”

Chrissy shook her head, her smile growing brighter and brighter. “Nope, it’s totally normal and absolutely adorable.” Giggling, she hugged her book tightly to her chest. If her hands were free, she probably would have hugged you instead. “I’m so happy for you. I really, really am. I swear, I feel like my heart’s about to burst right now.”

“Well, you should probably see a doctor about that.”

Chrissy stuck her tongue out at you. You did it right back, popped off your lock, and pulled on the handle. The locker door swung outward, squeaking on its hinges, and almost smacked Chrissy in the face. “Hey!” she said, laughing. She stepped back, skipped around you, and planted herself comfortably on your left side.

“So did you see him last night?” she asked, practically beaming.

“Nope.” You slipped off your messenger bag and hung it on the hook.

Chrissy squinted at you suspiciously. “Why do I feel like you’re lying right now?”

“I’m not lying,” you told her, only to be betrayed by your blushing face. “I didn’t see him last night… technically it was this morning.”

Twelve-o-two, to be exact. That’s when you saw the headlights flashing through your bedroom window blinds.

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.

“What? He just stopped by to say goodnight.” You smiled softly to yourself. “It was kind of romantic, actually.”

“Uh-huh,” Chrissy said, laughing at you. “And how long did you two say goodnight?”

“Only for an hour… and a half.”

It was raining last night. You couldn’t invite Eddie into the house, so you two hung out in his van for a while. A very long while. W.A.S.P. was playing on the stereo. Eddie had found the cassette tape while cleaning out his van that afternoon. He was very proud of this accomplishment. It was adorable. He had you listen to a few of his favorite songs, asked you about your day, told you about his, and during “Cries In the Night,” he leaned over the center console and kissed you. Everything after that was a bit of a blur. The last thing you remembered was the horn blaring. You had accidentally pressed it with your elbow.

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.

“Stop saying, ‘Oh my god.’ You sound like my mom.”

She had said the exact same thing after confronting you about it in the kitchen this morning. Turns out, the car horn had woken her up. Then she caught you creeping back inside through the front door. It was an awkward breakfast, to say the least.

Chrissy poked your shoulder playfully. “That’s how it starts, you know. Late-night visits. Long, drawn-out goodbyes. You two are gonna be inseparable this summer.” She breathed a long, lovesick sigh. “Jason and I used to be like that.”

“You’re still like that.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling.

“Speaking of…” You saw Jason Carver coming down the hallway, his pants ironed and creased, white collared shirt tucked in, a brand new Rolex glinting on his left wrist (an early graduation present from his father, apparently). He looked like a Ralph Lauren catalog model. “Is it weird that I’m picturing him naked right now?”

Chrissy hid her face in embarrassment. “I swear to God, if you say anything…”

“What am I gonna say to him? ‘Thank you for deflowering my best friend’? ‘I heard your penis is rather pleasing’? I don’t wanna talk to him about that. I don’t even wanna think about that.”

Prior to this weekend, you couldn’t even imagine Jason Carver having genitals. You always figured he was like a Ken doll down there. Nothing but smooth plastic.

Chrissy looked at you, mortified. “Why do I tell you anything?”

“I have no idea,” you said. Then you checked the clock again.

Eight twenty-three.

Where the hell’s Eddie? you wondered, starting to get a little worried.

Jason’s arrival reclaimed your attention.

“Hey, guys,” he said in that smooth drawl that made all the girls swoon.

You expected to find him standing with his million-dollar smile, but he wasn’t. No, today Jason seemed different—humble, approachable, perhaps even a little shy. It was as if he’d reverted back to his ten-year-old self. Little Jason Carver, who could barely dribble a basketball. The boy who stammered when he introduced himself to the rest of the class. The boy who sat down next to you, smiled, and said he liked the character on your favorite shirt. The boy who talked to you every day. Encouraged you. Defended you. The boy you caught staring at your best friend way too many times to be a coincidence.

Then you looked at Chrissy and she seemed younger, too. A blushing, fidgeting ten-year-old who always forgot to stand up straight. She got so excited when Jason offered to walk her home from school. He even carried my books!

Back then, your happiness for them had been counterfeit, complicated, but not anymore. Yeah, now you could say you were genuinely happy for both of them.

This was still awkward as hell, though.

“Hey, Chrissy needs to borrow a pencil,” you blurted out, breaking their amorous trance.

A soft pink flush rose to Jason’s cheeks. “What?”

“Just ignore her,” Chrissy said, struggling to keep a straight face.

Meanwhile, you punched Jason on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t forget about our deal, buddy.”

“I haven’t,” he told you. “I’ll buy your lunch, as promised. It’s the least I can do.”

“What if I want two lunches? And a whole plate of cookies?”

“Then I guess I’m buying you two lunches and a whole plate of cookies.”

Jason smiled at you… but then his demeanor changed, hardening like armor.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You blinked at him. “Am I okay?” you repeated slowly, a little taken aback. “Well, I did wake up with a strange tattoo on my wrist. It’s like a crucifix, except it’s upside down. Weird… Also, I can’t be sure, but I think I might be dealing with a Rosemary’s Baby scenario. Yeah, I’m definitely gonna be giving birth to the Antichrist in about nine months. Buy something black.”

Jason’s eyes widened in confused horror.

“Oh my god, I’m kidding!” you said. “Eddie was a complete gentleman. He even asked for permission before he impregnated me with his hellseed. Naturally, I gave him the green light because… well, have you seen his face? It’s kinda perfect.”

Chrissy put her hand over her mouth and giggled. Jason didn’t appreciate your joke.

“Come on, be serious.”

“I am being serious. Believe it or not, I actually find him insanely attractive. He’s like a discount version of Eddie Van Halen, and I can’t afford the real thing, so…”

“So you actually slept with him?” Jason sounded disappointed and ashamed. He reminded you of your father.

No, worse than your father.

“Well, no, I was kidding about that. I mean, I did sleep with him, but not in the way you’re assuming. And are you seriously gonna judge me for having sex? It’s been a while since I’ve been to church, but I’m pretty sure the bible condemns hypocrisy. You might wanna reread those sections. I think you’ll find them very enlightening.”

Jason ground his jaw in irritation. “Stop making jokes!”

“I don’t want to,” you said finally, your voice breaking, “because then I’m just gonna get really, really mad like I’m doing right now, and I don’t wanna be mad at you, Jason. I was having a really good morning until you showed up.”

By now, Chrissy had stopped laughing. Her shoulders drooped and she looked at you with a sick, sorry expression.

Jason said, “Look, I just think you’re undervaluing yourself, okay? You can do so much better than that—”

“Oh, please don’t do that. Don’t try to talk to me like you’re my friend.”

“I am your friend.”

“Then be my friend, Jason. Stop trying to ruin my happiness!”

The school bell dinged and students began making their way to class. Jason went, too. Didn’t even bother saying goodbye. Chrissy told you not to worry about him. “Jason’ll come around eventually.” Then she smiled, waved goodbye, and ran to catch up with him.

You weren’t half as optimistic as she was.

This is gonna be a huge problem, isn’t it?

You groaned, dreading it.

Behind you, another wave of students came rushing down the hallway. Brittany Wirth was among them. You knew because you could hear her shrill voice piercing through the dull chatter around her. She was ranting about prom, complaining about the flowers, complaining about the food, about the music, about—

“YOU!”

You flinched and turned around, thinking she was talking to you.

What you saw made your eyes light up with glee. Brittany Wirth had Eddie Munson pinned up against the lockers, and she was jabbing him in the chest with her index finger.

“You, sir, are a total asshole! Do you have any idea how hard I worked on that event? I was planning it for months, planning it to perfection, and then YOU had to go and make it all about yourself, as usual.” She stepped back and huffed, exhausted. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“I’m a little proud of myself,” Eddie replied candidly.

Brittany shot him a deadly glare. “Oh, shut up!” She swept her hair off her shoulder and walked away.

You stopped her as she passed. “You know what, Brittany, all things considered, I thought it was a very successful night.”

Brittany’s jaw dropped and got stuck like that, locked in befuddled rage. Not a single sound came out, but you could tell she was trying to speak. Was this it? Had it finally happened? Did Brittany Wirth actually crack? She worked her lips unsuccessfully for a minute and then closed them again, steaming in her hatred, screaming internally like a boiling teapot. She brushed past you and continued on her way.

Then you heard Eddie approach you.

“Did I really make the night all about me?”

His question made you giggle. “A little bit.” You turned around with a smile, glad to see him, relieved to see him. “I still had a good time, though.”

“Well, that’s all that matters,” Eddie said, but there was something in your eyes that made him frown with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, and blinked that silly little worry away. “Jason’s just being… well, Jason.”

“I take it he doesn’t approve of me.”

“Yeah, you’ve really got him clutching his bible. He thinks you’re gonna drain my blood and sacrifice me to the devil.”

“Really?” Eddie said, his eyes widening in false astonishment. “Well, he just spoiled our next date.”

“Oh, really?” you replied, giggling. “Well, I guess that explains why I’m still a virgin.”

Eddie winced, looked down at his shoes, and grinned bashfully. “Okay, I walked right into that one.”

“Yeah, you did,” you said; and God, it drove you crazy seeing him get so flustered.

Kinda like last night, you thought, startling yourself, and immediately shooed that dangerous thought away. Now was not the time for that, young lady. You still had a full day of school to get through. Somehow.

“You’re late,” you said.

“Yeah, I uh…” Eddie brought his hand to his face and started rubbing it. “I got pulled over for speeding.”

You gasped. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Prove it.”

Eddie pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to you. You opened it and immediately busted out laughing.

“Oh, wow… going fifty-five in a forty-five.”

“Eh, they went easy on me… I was going at least sixty.”

“Wow…”

“Yeah…” Eddie said, tilting his head. “The one time I’m in a rush to get to school.”

His brown eyes sought yours and settled there for a moment, his lips curling into a tender, captivated smile. You smiled back helplessly, feeling girly, feeling giddy, feeling like you were probably grinning like an idiot right now. Embarrassed, you pressed the paper to your mouth in a vain attempt to hide it. When that didn’t work, you thrust the ticket back into Eddie’s hand and turned away, pretending to pull books from your locker.

You felt along the spines like someone fumbling around in the dark. What class were you going to again? History? English? French?

No, you weren’t even taking French.

You spoke to Eddie in a frazzled voice: “Well, since you’re not in handcuffs right now, I’m assuming they didn’t find anything when they searched your van, huh?”

“Luckily, no…”

“Good thing you cleaned out your van yesterday.”

“Mhm…” Eddie said, his voice seeming much closer than before.

Your roaming fingers slowed, then stopped, sliding all the way down the stack of books. With one more step, his presence had consumed you, making you blind and deaf to everything else, everything except Eddie. You could feel him standing next to you, leaning into you, his left hand outstretched and resting against the locker beside you. His voice sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Find what you’re looking for yet?”

You gazed into his eyes and got lost in them. “… I can’t remember what class I’m going to.”

You laughed at yourself sheepishly, senselessly, and saw Eddie crack a small smile: half amused and half… something else, something that brought you back to last night—that quiet, rainy night. Sitting in the dark and listening to music. Eddie humming softly beside you, drumming his right hand on the steering wheel, watching the tiny droplets race down his windshield. You sitting in your seat nervously. Fidgeting restlessly. Running your fingers over the plastic cassette case on your lap. Pretending to take interest in it while secretly watching Eddie out of the corner of your eye. Waiting for him to kiss you. Hoping he’d kiss you. Catching him staring at you with that smile… the same smile he was giving you now… right before he leaned in and…

“Ahem.”

Another student appeared behind you, tapping her foot impatiently. “Uhh, can I get to my locker, please?”

Eddie drew away from you, embarrassed and a little frustrated, and took two giant steps back.

The girl assumed his place without a word, opened her locker, hung up her backpack, her jacket, grabbed her textbook and notebook, snatched a few pens from her bag, and closed her locker again. Before leaving, she motioned between you and Eddie and said, “So is this like a thing now?”

You caught Eddie’s eye for a second. “Uhh, yes,” you said while he fought back a huge smile.

The girl shook her head as if dizzy. “Weird,” she said, and left.

Afterward, you turned to Eddie with a puzzled frown. “Wait, is it weird that I’m dating you or that you’re dating me? I need to know where I rank in this relationship.”

“Maybe you should ask her.”

“Maybe I will…”

Giggling, you stepped past him, spotted your locker neighbor at the end of the hallway, cupped your hands over your mouth, and shouted, “Hey, Carmen!” but you never got a chance to finish. Eddie had grabbed your hand and dragged you back to him, pulling you into his arms, putting you right where he wanted you, intending to pick up exactly where he left off.

The second bell rang before you could even feel his breath on your lips. Eddie closed his eyes tightly, as if pained.

“I really hate that I have to be in school right now.”

“Me too,” you said, staring up at him, your heart still pounding in your chest. “We should probably get to class.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tighter against him. “Or we could just, y’know, skip first period altogether… since you don’t know where you’re supposed to be anyway.”

He swooped down and placed a few chaste kisses along the side of your head. Blushing, you buried your face into his chest.

“Are you trying to get me to cut class, sir?”

“No, just giving you options.”

“Mhm,” you said, giggling.

While you contemplated his offer, you traced your hand over the button pocket of his denim vest, feeling the fabric, flicking each of his treasured pins one by one: Judas Priest, Accept, Mercyful Fate. You found the W.A.S.P. pin last and focused on it, teasing it with your finger.

“And then what?” you asked, lifting your head to look at him. “We go back to your van and finish what you started last night?”

Eddie’s eyes brightened in surprise. “Finish what you started, if I remember correctly.”

“Was I the one who started it?” You frowned, pretending not to remember.

Meanwhile, your hand had drifted up to the collar of his leather jacket. You nudged it out of the way and started tugging along the neckline of his shirt, revealing a faint pink bruise on the base of his collarbone. Eddie winced as your finger brushed over it. You smiled softly, remembering how his breath hitched when your lips made the first budding mark, how he cursed and moaned while you planted all the others, his hands slipping underneath your shirt and sliding across your skin.

“I may have gotten a little carried away…”

“Yeah, you definitely did,” Eddie said, smiling at you.

“I just really like W.A.S.P.”

“Do you?”

“Mhm…”

Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he laughed. “Well, I still have the tape in my van. We can go listen to it right now if you want.”

You bit your lip hard, unable to answer right away. God dammit, what had you gotten yourself into? You weren’t seriously considering his proposition before, but now…

“Go to class, please.”

Now Ms. Kelley had come out of her office and was sweeping away the last few stragglers, you and Eddie included.

“I know we’re all a little sluggish this morning, but let’s start this week off strong, okay? There’s still another month before graduation. Don’t lose your focus now.” She looked at you and Eddie tiredly. “You two. Class. Now.”

You sighed as you saw your window of opportunity close. Eddie peeled himself away from you and started down the hallway.

“See ya later,” he said over his shoulder.

“Bye,” you said back, hiding your disappointment behind a smile.

Upon returning to your locker, you grabbed your textbook—the right textbook—and wedged it in the crook of your left elbow. While hunting around for the matching notebook and folder, you heard Eddie’s voice behind you again, catching you completely by surprise.

“Oh, wait,” he said hurriedly, “I forgot to tell you something.”

“Hmm?”

You turned around and felt Eddie’s hands cup the sides of your face, drawing you in for a soft, sweet kiss. You closed your eyes, savoring it. A moment later, he broke the kiss and pulled away.

“See you in third period,” he said, departing with a smile.

It took you a second to recover from that. When you finally did, you clutched your textbook to your chest and smiled uncontrollably, tears brimming in your eyes, your heart racing, stomach fluttering, face glowing with pure, radiant joy.

Under your breath, you whispered, “I hate so much that I have to be in school right now.”

Gareth, on the other hand, was glad to be in school today. Admittedly, his morning had gotten off to a rough start, but things were finally starting to look up for him, and now he felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

But he didn’t wanna jinx it.

In first period, Gareth snuck into the library and talked to Matilda Gunn: salutatorian, captain of the debate team, and the third name on Gareth’s list (his new list, of course; the original list was long gone, probably lying in a trashcan somewhere).

Matilda, anyway, was sitting at the back table and studying for her upcoming physics test. Matilda preferred studying in the library over her study hall class because she couldn’t stand the sound of her neighbor chewing and slurping his nails. She wasn’t too happy when Gareth pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. She was even less happy when he brought up Eddie Munson.

“First of all, I’m offended that you would even think I would associate with that moron. I hate the guy. He ruined my GPA. Stupid group projects… God, I hate them!” Enraged, Matilda tore a random leaf out of her notebook and ripped the poor thing to shreds. Gareth watched her do it, horrified, and hoped there was nothing important written on that page. “You know, if I’d known he was gonna slack off like he did, I would’ve just done the whole thing myself. But no… I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I gave him the easiest task and he couldn’t even do that. He said he forgot about it. Said he was busy working on a campaign or something.”

“Yeah, he gets like that sometimes,” Gareth said. “Like last month, he spent the whole weekend learning ‘Master of Puppets.’ Have you heard that song?”

Matilda shook her head, her eyes glazed with boredom.

“Well, doesn’t matter. It’s a very hard song to play. That’s all you need to know. And Eddie became obsessed with it. He locked himself in his room all weekend and practiced over and over and—”

Matilda pressed her hand to her temple and hissed, “Listen, junior freak, I don’t give a shit about Eddie Munson and his fucking guitar. Okay? Second of all, I didn’t even go to prom on Saturday. I was studying all weekend, studying for this test, and if I don’t get an A, I’m gonna hold you personally responsible. Now get lost.”

Gareth lurched back in his seat and felt his mouth go dry.

(Once again, why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“Okay,” he said in a small voice. “I’m, uhh, sorry for bothering you.”

He got up to leave.

“Wait,” Matilda said with a sigh; then after a moment of careful, painful deliberation, she put out her hand. “Gimme your stupid list.”

Gareth held the list against his chest, protecting it. “You’re not gonna rip it up, are you?” he asked, observing the tattered remains of her last victim. “Because I’m getting kinda tired of writing all these names out.”

And some of those girls had really long names.

“I’m not gonna rip it up.” Matilda’s voice was strained with frustration and fatigue, but there was still some warmth hiding in there, dimly glowing beneath the cold black coals of her heart. “I’m gonna help you narrow it down, okay? Otherwise, you’ll never figure it out.” She motioned impatiently with her hand. “Come on, hurry up.”

Gareth handed her the list and she looked it over for a minute, vaguely amused.

“Not a very long list,” she said while uncapping her highlighter with her teeth.

“Well, Eddie’s very picky.”

As he should be, Gareth thought. That man deserved the best.

(much better than you)

Matilda snorted under her breath. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” She rolled her eyes, bent her head, and began marking up the list with her highlighter. Her hand was calm and controlled, each movement deliberate, precise, as to be expected of an advanced test taker. “Okay, she has a boyfriend… she, I’m pretty sure, has a girlfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… she’s been out of town for a funeral… and she… doesn’t even live in this state anymore.”

She crossed off the last name and slid the paper across the table.

Gareth gaped at it, speechless. “You just eliminated everyone.”

Matilda shrugged. “Like I said, not a long list.”

It was a major setback, the kind of setback that made you want to tear the whole thing to pieces, cut your losses, and give up. Gareth seriously considered it. He almost did it while sitting in his second-period class.

But then an angel appeared. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel named Olivia Kent.

She peered over his shoulder during class. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked, sitting with her chin on her palm.

Gareth considered lying, saying he was working on his assignment or something, but in his current state, he didn’t have the heart to deceive anyone, especially not Olivia, who was so innocent and kind.

“I’m trying to figure out who my friend went home with after prom.”

“Oh? Who’s your friend?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Oh...” Olivia giggled a silly, unaffected giggle. “Yeah, he had quite the night.”

Gareth turned around in his seat. “You were at prom, Livvy?”

“Mhm! It was a lotta fun.”

“And you saw Eddie there?”

“Sure. I saw him lots of times.”

“Did you see him leave with anybody?”

“Sure did… I saw everything.”

“You saw everything?” Gareth sat back, awestruck, and felt tears come to his eyes. This was it. This was finally it. This was the breakthrough that Gareth had been waiting for. An eye witness—a star witness—had emerged at last, willing and eager to cooperate. “Oh, Livvy, you beautiful, beautiful, heavenly creature, tell me everything.”

“About what?”

“About prom, Livvy.”

“Oh, you wanna hear about prom?” Olivia shrugged, smiled, and said, “Okay! Philip Cuthbert asked me. I didn’t think he was going to, but then he totally surprised me! I wore a frilly pink dress and matching pink heels. Phillip wore a dark blue tux and a black bowtie. I think it was black, but it might’ve been blue, too. Then Philip got me one of those really pretty flower bracelets… What are those called again? Oh, right, corsages! Anyway, we took pictures on the front lawn of my house, then we took pictures at his house, and then we took more pictures in front of City Hall. I don’t normally like taking so many pictures, but I didn’t mind so much in this case. It was a special occasion. Phillip said I looked very pretty. He was really nice to me all night. He held my hand. He bought me dinner. He got me some cake. I actually ate two slices of cake that night, but don’t tell anybody, okay? I was only supposed to have one. And then we danced and drank punch and we danced again—”

Gareth put his hand on top of hers, making Olivia blush and look at him in doe-eyed wonderment. “Livvy, I’m glad you had such a fun time at prom, but since class is gonna be ending soon, do you think you could speed things up and get to the part where you saw Eddie? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Olivia said, smiling. “I saw him talking to Chrissy.”

“Yeah, he went there to ask her to dance. I told him it was a terrible idea, but he refused to listen to me.”

“Yeah, that was a bad idea. Why would he do that?”

“Because Eddie’s a hopeless romantic.”

“Really?" Olivia frowned, considering it. “He doesn’t seem like one.”

“He hides it behind a mask of cynicism, and he hides it very well.”

“Oh,” Livvy said, mystified by the concept. “Well, I guess that explains why he got up on stage then.”

“Wait, Eddie got up on stage?”

Damn, Gareth thought, that’s actually really impressive.

“Mhm! He gave this long speech and everything. My friends said it was really weird and embarrassing, but honestly, I thought it was kinda sweet. Super embarrassing, but sweet. It was kind of like a… hmm… well, I guess you could call it a love confession. I don’t remember what he said exactly, but it was really adorable, and normally I wouldn’t use that word to describe Eddie—you know, ‘cause he’s so mean and scary-looking—but at that moment, he really was adorable. Kinda like a puppy. And then he played Journey and—”

Gareth’s head rocked back. “He played Journey? Eddie played Journey? Eddie doesn’t like Journey. Nobody likes Journey. Nobody except…”

(you)

Gareth’s eyes widened. His stomach plummeted to the floor. Then he shook his head and the thought was gone.

“Okay, maybe it’s just a coincidence,” he said. “Maybe the DJ suggested Journey. Do you remember what song it was, Livvy?”

“No, I don’t. Sorry, I’m not very good with song titles.”

“Was it ‘Separate Ways’? ‘Any Way You Want It’? ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’? ‘Faithfully’? ‘Open Arms’?”

“You know, for someone who doesn’t like Journey, you sure know a lot of Journey songs.”

And for someone who seemed like such an airhead, Olivia Kent was shockingly observant. Gareth was rather impressed. He couldn’t help but tip his head to her. Touché, fair lady.

“I think it was the last one,” Olivia said.

“‘Open Arms’?”

“I think so.”

“So Eddie played a sappy love song,” Gareth concluded while rubbing his chin. “Makes sense.”

“Mhm… and it must’ve worked ‘cause she left with him right after.”

“You saw the girl who left with him?”

“Yep.”

“You saw her face?”

“Of course I did. She walked right past me.”

“And did you recognize her?”

“Uh-huh!”

“YES!” Gareth pumped his fists excitedly. He almost leaped out of his chair and kissed her, he was so happy. “Who was it, Livvy? Tell me who it was!”

Olivia sighed. “I don’t remember.”

“What?” Gareth’s heart shattered. “But you just said you recognized her.”

“I did recognize her face, but I don’t remember her name… Sorry, Gareth, I’m not very good with names.”

“You’re not good with names,” Gareth repeated softly, beside himself. “She’s not good with names. She’s not good with names. My star witness isn’t good with names.”

He laughed madly to himself, feeling dizzy and delirious, feeling like the whole room was spinning like a turntable. A turntable playing Journey. Journey! Of all the bands in the world, Eddie, why Journey? Why? Why?

Meanwhile, Olivia rested her cheek against her palm and smiled at him. “You have really pretty eyes. Do you want my number?”

Gareth paused, considering it. His face turned bright red.

“Yes, Livvy. Yes, I’d love to get your number.”

“Cool!” She scribbled it on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to him. “Call me sometime, okay?”

So now Gareth was strolling away from his third-period class with a laminated hall pass in hand, Olivia Kent’s phone number in his pocket, a massive pit in his stomach, and Steve Perry’s annoying voice in his head.

Journey.

Eddie had requested Journey.

It wasn’t a coincidence, was it?

Gareth walked past Mr. Prichard’s math class, stopped, and backpedaled a few paces. He pressed his face against the glass and peered inside.

Eddie was sitting at his desk with his assignment out and textbook open in front of him. He had his pencil in his hand, but he had yet to write a single answer. He was just tapping it against his notebook while he stared absently at the chalkboard, stared with a faraway look in his eyes. Gareth knew that look. It meant Eddie was lost in thought, usually about D&D or whatever new song he was learning, but today Gareth had a sneaking suspicion that Eddie was thinking about something else—or rather someone else.

But not you. Please, God, not you.

You were sitting behind him and quietly working on your assignment, just working on your assignment, and that caught Gareth a little off guard. If you had gone home with Eddie (as Gareth begrudgingly suspected now), shouldn’t you have been acting a little… happy? excited? Shouldn’t you have been staring at the back of his head with a dumb, lovesick expression? Daydreaming and doodling about him in your notebook? Naming your future children and planning your destination wedding?

Gareth expected to feel something when he peeked into that classroom. A change in energy. A shift in the natural balance of the universe. Call it whatever you want, but there should have been a noticeable difference in the air, right? Right?

But there wasn’t.

Everything was totally normal.

You and Eddie were acting totally normal.

And that filled Gareth with an exhilarating sense of relief.

It wasn’t you. Thank God, it wasn’t you.

Gareth backed away with a smile. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen the exact change in energy he had been waiting for. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen Eddie turn around and start talking to you. He would have seen you smile and blush and tell him to go back to his assignment (even though you didn’t really want him to go back to his assignment). Then he would have seen Eddie turn back to the front, try to do his work, give up, and turn around again five minutes later.

But Gareth didn’t stay. Instead, he continued down the hallway in blissful ignorance, pulled out his list, ripped it up, and tossed the pieces into the trash.

If it wasn’t any of them and it wasn’t you, there was only one logical conclusion.

“She doesn’t go to school here, does she?”

Gareth forced this treasonous charge onto Eddie as soon as he arrived at the cafeteria. He had found his target sitting at his usual place at the head of the table. The seat of high honor. Eddie’s chair. The king’s chair. Gareth, a once-honorable and faithful soldier, slammed down his tray, leaned forward, pressed his palms into the table, and looked Eddie Munson square in the eye. Unblinking. Unflinching. Unyielding against his Dungeon Master’s powerful, intimidating aura.

A moment of tense silence passed. Jeff and Grant looked at each other and immediately stopped eating. Jeff put down his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Grant screwed on the lid of his soup thermos and set the container aside. There was no telling how long this would take. Gareth had a talent for prolonging his inevitable demise. It was like watching a slow hanging.

Oh, but what a show it would be.

“Who is she, Eddie?” Gareth thrust out his finger accusingly. “Huh? Is she a teacher? A townie? Some drunk chick you picked up at the bar while drowning your pathetic sorrows away?”

“Yikes,” Jeff said, cringing.

And Grant said, “That is quite the allegation.”

Indeed it was, and Eddie didn’t seem to appreciate the open assault on his character. His brown eyes sharpened into a steely glare. They reflected Gareth’s destruction like a black crystal ball. Doom. Doom. Doom.

“Get your finger outta my face,” Eddie said, and that was all he needed to say.

“I’m so sorry,” Gareth said, and fell back into his chair with a thump. His heart thudded in his chest while the color slowly returned to his face. That was as close to death as Gareth had ever come. It was a miracle he’d survived. He bent his head and capitulated: “I sincerely apologize for my previous statement. It was malicious and rude, completely unbecoming of my position.”

Grant squinted his eyes curiously. “And what is your position, exactly?”

“I’m Eddie’s best friend, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Jeff echoed, snickering.

Grant, wryly amused, said, “Uhh, I’m pretty sure Scottie’s his best friend.”

Eddie, having dropped his tyrannous facade, was pretending to listen while absentmindedly picking through his snack bag, his thoughts elsewhere, eyes elsewhere. But where, Gareth couldn’t say. He had strained his neck to see who Eddie was looking at, but it was impossible to tell with so many people in the cafeteria. He could have been looking at anyone, anyone, anyone except you.

“He’s right,” Eddie murmured. “Scottie’s my best friend.”

Gareth shrugged, unconcerned with such trivial technicalities. “Well, then I’m your second best friend, Eddie, and since Scottie’s in prison right now, I have to step in and assume the role in his stead.”

“Ah, the interim best friend. So that’s the imaginary position you gave yourself.”

“Oh, shut up and eat your soup, Grant.”

“I will eat my soup,” Grant said, “and I’ll enjoy it while you continue to embarrass yourself.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Gareth grumbled nonsensically. He stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. It tasted like dirt. “I’m having a really horrible day.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Eddie said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Mine’s actually going pretty well.”

Another cryptic response. Gareth simply couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know,” Jeff began, “speaking of Scottie—”

Gareth flung down his fork angrily, sending a spear of broccoli whizzing past Grant’s left shoulder.

“Oh, come on, just tell me who it is already! Enough with the hints and the coded language. I swear to God, you’re driving me crazy, Eddie! You’ve been torturing me for days with this mystery. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything else. As your friend, I’m begging you to stop. Please, for my sanity, stop.”

Eddie popped a pretzel into his mouth and chewed. “I’ve been torturing you?”

Grant said, “He’s been torturing himself, honestly.”

Jeff nodded, seeming on the verge of laughter. “Yeah, he made a list and everything.”

Eddie grimaced. “Wait, there’s a list? Why is there a list?”

“Because you’ve driven me to madness, Eddie!” Gareth blurted out in blind white rage. “I hope you’re happy because you’ve driven me to complete madness! Who were you with on Saturday? Don’t even try to deny it because I heard a girl talking in the background. It wasn’t the TV. It was a girl. A living, breathing girl. I know you were with her that night, and I know you were with her yesterday.”

“I wasn’t with her yesterday,” Eddie replied, his eyelids heavy with annoyance. “I already told you, I was out running errands.”

“Oh, you’re sticking with that story, huh? Okay, Eddie, let’s assume you were out running errands. Let’s assume you spent your whole Sunday exactly as you said. You got up bright and early, stopped by the drugstore for God knows what, and then spent the rest of the day by yourself at home, cleaning out your van.”

“I did clean out my van yesterday. That’s how I found my lost W.A.S.P. tape.”

“Oh, which album?” Grant asked.

“The Last Command,” Eddie answered, a soft smile touching his face.

Wait, was that another clue?

“Nice,” Grant said. “That’s a solid album.”

Eddie nodded, agreeing, but now there was a distant glimmer in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Gareth couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was as if his friend was lost in a cherished memory.

What significance did this W.A.S.P. tape hold?

Was there any significance?

These questions twisted Gareth’s mind into a pretzel.

And speaking of pretzels, Eddie had set down his snack bag and stopped eating. Weird. He now sat with his arms folded over his chest, fingers drumming impatiently against his right bicep. His wandering eyes kept going back to the clock. Counting down the minutes. What had him so restless all of a sudden? What was he waiting for? His next class? English? Was that significant? Eddie hated English. He dreaded English. He complained about it every day because it meant he had to see—

Eddie pushed off the table and stood up. Gareth climbed up from his chair, too.

“Where are you going, Eddie?”

“Dude,” Jeff said, looking up at him. “You need to calm down.”

“Otherwise,” Grant went on, “you might get demoted to third best friend.”

The two of them dissolved into laughter. Gareth didn’t even hear them.

“It’s happening,” he muttered. “Something’s happening.”

“Yeah, you annoyed Eddie so much that he had to leave to get away from you.”

But that wasn’t it. Eddie wasn’t fleeing for the exit like a coward. No, he was marching straight through the middle of the cafeteria like a lone soldier charging through the battlefield. Charging to victory or to death. He was infiltrating the enemy’s stronghold, impervious to their hostile glares and raised eyebrows. Even Jason Carver himself, who had begun to get out of his chair, could not stop him today. Eddie was a man determined, a man determined to get to

(of course)

you.

He wedged himself between two basketball players, pushed his palms into the table, and greeted you with a charming smile. You gazed up at him in sweet surprise.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hi,” he said back. “You wanna skip next period?”

Chrissy’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” she said while you blushed, buried your face in your hands, and giggled.

Gareth, dumbstruck, slumped back into his chair with the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth.

That bitch, he thought. That Journey-loving bitch, she actually did it.

Grant regarded him with an impressed frown. “You know, you’re handling this a lot better than I thought you would. When did you figure it out?”

Gareth sighed. “Second period.”

Eddie just had to play Journey.

There was a moment of solemn silence after that. Then Grant unscrewed his soup thermos and lunch resumed as usual. Jeff took a bite of his sandwich. Gareth, now resigned to his grim fate, stuck his fork into his meatloaf and cut himself a modest slice. The meat looked dry and grey. What a horrible new world he lived in.

But, he supposed, there was something to look forward to.

“I got Olivia Kent’s number today. I think I’m gonna ask her out this weekend.”

SERIES MASTERPOST

FANFICTION MASTERLIST

unfortunately, i no longer do taglists. if you want to stay updated on my fics, you can follow me and/or subscribe to my posts. thank you!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #hellfire club #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #jason carver #chrissy cunningham #chrissy x jason #eddie munson x dwm!reader #dancing with myself #dwm #dwm short #ambrossart

469 notes · View notes

sp1rit-realm · 1 year

Text

༻¨*:· 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you get paired with Eddie Munson for your ceramics final.

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 cheerleader!reader 𖦹 eddie calls reader "princess" and "sweet thing" 𖦹 angst for one microsecond 𖦹 closest thing you will get to enemies to lovers from me 𖦹 jason carver. you have been warned 𖦹 im sorry if your name is allie 𖦹 im in love with this fic 𖦹 i actually love the way this came out 𖦹 i did not proofread this⎝(ˊ0ˋ)⎠

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 3.2k

You hear someone shout. Something about "sheep," and you immediately know who it is. Still, you turn your head to see the person staring at you.

"Oh," He scoffs, "And their leader stares directly at me! Hey, princess! Was there something you needed? Or were you just staring at the freak again?"

You don't answer, turning back to your lunch.

"Yep, that's what I thought!" He yells.

Then, Carver stands up, "Leave her alone!" He yells.

Eddie smirks, "Princess needs her knight in shining armor to save her?" He mockingly croons.

Ignoring Eddie, you look to Carver, "Jason, just—" You take a deep breath, "Just sit down. Leave him alone."

Jason scoffs, "He's picking on you, babe."

"First, don't call me babe. You hear me?" Jason nods, "Second, sit down."

For once in his life, Jason listens.

Eddie smiles in victory, knowing he got you riled up. Even happier knowing Carver got told off.

You walked into fourth period late and sighed upon seeing the only open seat. Silently, you sit next to him. You hear him groan, and you don't need to look to know he's rolling his eyes.

The teacher drones on about the subject, and Eddie watches as you diligently take notes. Your pen's ink is sparkly and blue; he internally scoffs.

The teacher mentions the words: "Final project." Eddie sighs, and you light up. He despises how happy you look.

Ms. Ronette mentions that this will be a partner project, and this time, you groan. None of your friends are in this class.

Then, she says that you will be working with your seat partner. There's an eruption of both glee and gloom. Some people are indifferent. You're hoping that's how Eddie feels, but you know he's pissed. You and Eddie look at each other, and you offer a hopeful smile. He scowls in return.

As soon as the bell rings, Eddie is out the door. You chase after him.

"Eddie! Wait!" He stops, and you catch your breath, "You would think all that cheering would make it easier for me to breathe after running for five seconds," You laugh. Eddie does not, "Just... get on with it."

You frown, "When should we meet to work on the project? I'm free today after five." You offer.

"I have Hellfire," He keeps walking.

Taking long strides to keep up with him, you continued, "I can wait. How long does it usually run?"

"'Till six, if we're lucky."

"Oh, well, I can sit in." You suggest with a smile, "It doesn't sound all that bad."

He hates how genuine you sound.

"Fine. But," Eddie stops to turn at you, "Absolutely no mocking or making fun of it. Understand?"

You nod.

"Sorry that you have to spend time with the freak," One of the girls on the team says in the locker room.

You shrug, "Y'know, maybe you should give him a chance. He doesn't seem horrible."

"I hear he sacrifices to the Devil." She whispers.

"Oh, I think that's just rumors," You deny the accusation thrown at him. You never liked rumors.

Walking into Hellfire was scary. You weren't sure what to expect, and Allie definitely got into your head with the whole sacrificing thing. She even told you he might lure you into a trap and sacrifice you. You didn't believe it rationally. But, your heart beats as you knock.

"Enter." You hear Eddie say. He's sitting on a throne and looks so in his element.

Nobody greets you, and you weren't expecting them to. Still, it would have been nice.

You pull out your notebook and begin sketching your final project.

Eventually, you give up on the sketch to listen in on the game. It's pretty interesting. There are trolls and elves, and you hear the word merfolk at one point. That piques your interest, and you begin drawing a mermaid. She's demonic and cryptic and freaky, and you smile. She's beautiful.

Everyone's packing up, and you're glad. All you want to do is work on your project.

"We can go to my house?" You propose.

"I smell like weed."

"And?"

He tries to hide his smirk—it doesn't work.

Once you're at your house, you grab your basket of albums.

"Pick one," You smile.

"What do you even have in there? Pop music?"

You shrug, "I think I'll surprise you."

"What, you have one Bowie album in there? Think that'll impress me?"

Why was he being so difficult?

"I'm just trying to put on some music to make this more bearable."

He scoffs, "Fine. Give it to me."

You hand him the basket, and he's surprisingly careful with it.

His eyebrows raise as he flicks through your collection, "Kill 'Em All?"

You smile. You surprised Eddie Munson.

With the music playing, you pull out your textbook.

"Who do you want to study?"

"I don't care." He shrugs.

"Look, Munson," You cross your arms, "I care about my grade in this class. I know you probably don't, but I do."

"Of course, everything is about you," He copies your movements, crossing his arms back, "I'll have you know, I immensely enjoy pottery."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

An awkward silence falls over the two of you.

"Let's go with Beatrice Wood." He murmurs.

"That's who I was thinking, actually," You whisper, pulling out your sketch.

"Guess we have something in common." He snorts like it's the funniest thing in the world.

"Guess we do."

And with that, you set out on your research.

"It's getting late," You yawn, "Did you want dinner?"

Eddie wants to say no but also doesn't want box mac n cheese again. Ultimately, his guilt wins, "Nah, don't worry about it."

"Nonsense," You dismiss him, "I'll make something."

"Are you sure?" He's growing anxious by the second.

"I'm positive," You reassure.

"You live in a trailer, right?" You ask, blowing on your food.

He nods, "What about it?"

You can tell his defenses are up.

"Just wondering," You shrug.

"You gonna tell all your friends? Make fun of the trailer park freak?"

You furrow your brows, "No. I don't enjoy making fun of people, and I certainly wouldn't make fun of you. If anything, I would make fun of Allie." You state.

"Why? I'm, like, prime 'picking-on' material."

You shake your head, "It's not nice to make fun of someone for where they live or what they do for fun. Allie is the worst if I'm being honest. She's always talking about how much she loves tennis. She's not even good at it."

Eddie laughs, "Didn't you just say it's not nice to make fun of someone's hobbies?"

You smile sheepishly, "Yeah, but Allie's a bitch."

Eddie gawps, "I've never heard you swear."

"I don't do it often," You shrug.

"You should do it more."

Eddie leaves, and you tell him to drive home safely. Maybe working on this project won't be as bad as you thought.

"How was working with Munson?" Allie asks you the next day.

You roll your eyes, "You were right!" Your smile was saccharine sweet, "He tried to sacrifice me!"

Allie gasps, "Really!?"

"No, idiot," You huff, "We actually got a lot done. And then we had dinner."

"Who'd you have dinner with?"

"Carver." You greeted.

"Tell me you didn't have dinner with the freak. What did you eat?" He laughs, "Box mac and cheese?"

You cross your arms, "It's not nice to make fun of people, Jason." With that, you walked away.

"Imagine being named Jason," You murmur, sitting beside Eddie. He laughs, and a sense of pride settles in you.

"Imagine your last name being Carver," He whispers. You giggle, and Eddie is sure it's the sweetest sound he's ever heard. Then, he remembers he's supposed to hate you.

"So..." You're elbows deep in clay at this point, "What exactly is 'Dungeons and Dragons?'"

Eddie is surprised, "Um," He swallows the lump in his throat, "It's an RPG."

"I—" You sigh as your pot collapses again, "I'm not sure what that is." You throw the clay again.

"Role-playing game. I'm the Dungeon Master or DM."

"So you're character is... Dungeon Master?"

He smiles, "Not quite."

"Why do I feel like you're making fun of me?"

"I'm not making fun of you, princess. Promise."

"Stop calling me that," You whisper, though you're smiling.

"Why? You're the princess of Hawkins High."

"No, I'm not."

"Mhm," He nods theatrically, "Sure."

It makes you laugh, and you don't care about the stares you receive from your peers.

"So... You wanna come to my place to work on the project?" Eddie asks at the end of the period.

"Can you drive me?" You ask, hopefully.

"Sure can, princess."

You try to disguise your smile as a scowl at the name. Eddie can see right through you.

"Lots of mugs..." You say, looking around Eddie's trailer.

"My Uncle Wayne's." He answers. "Anyway, this was to my room!" He declares like he's on a journey. You giggle, and Eddie melts again.

Eddie's giddy. He always is when he's thinking about you. Your perfume and that lip gloss that's been used so much that the label has begun to rub off.

"I'm running out," You pout as you stare at the tube of gloss, and Eddie thinks he would buy you all the lip glosses in the world if it meant you would smile at him.

"Hey, shiny lips," You roll your eyes with a smile, "Time to work on this project."

You groan and clutch your chest like you've been mortally wounded. Eddie laughs at your antics.

You settle on his bed, books out, when he asks, "Am I what they chalk me up to be? Have I freaked you out?"

You swear there's almost a sadness in his tone, "No. You haven't tried sacrificing me."

"Yet." He adds, knowing it will make you giggle again. God, he loves that sound. He decides it's the worst thing on the planet because how can you be so lovely and sweet and laugh like that and then expect him not to fall for you? It's cruel, truly.

"Did you draw this?" He nudges the drawing of the mermaid.

"Oh, yeah," You grow warm.

"It's pretty fucking sick," Eddie says as he pulls the drawing out.

"I drew it when you were playing Dungeons and Dragons. Someone said something about merfolk, so I drew one." You shrugged, "It's not that good—"

"Oh, shut up. It's good. Amazing, even."

"You don't have to lie," You murmur.

"I'm not lying! How do I prove that to you?"

You think momentarily, "Hang it on your wall, then I'll believe you."

Eddie smiles and grabs a pin. He hangs it next to his guitar.

You gawp at him.

"What?"

"You actually hung it!"

"Of course I did! It's amazing!"

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it, princess."

"Stop calling me princess, Eddie," You cross your arms.

"Stop being a princess, and I'll stop calling you princess." He jests.

You find yourself not wanting to leave, "So..." You look around his room, "You sell?"

Eddie huffs a laugh, "Did the princess wanna buy something?"

Your eyes go wide, "No! No, I was just wondering."

"Have you ever smoked weed?"

You nod, "I like smoking. It makes me laugh a lot."

And then, Eddie decides he needs to get you high.

"You wanna smoke?"

"I don't have any money," You shake your head.

"C'mon, it's on me. I've got my own stash," He opens a drawer and pulls out a pre-rolled joint.

You couldn't stop laughing, and Eddie adored it. Your eyes got smaller while the slopes of your cheeks grew. He was sure he was in the presence of an angel.

"And then," You laughed, "She vomited! All over her white clothes!"

"You really do hate this Allie girl, don't you?"

You throw your head back and groan, "She's the worst, Munson. All she does is talk and talk and talk about how much she loves tennis and her boyfriend, and her voice is so nasally. It gives me a migraine."

"Who's her boyfriend?" Eddie asks, intrigued.

"Just... a guy."

"Oh!" He snaps, "It's Gonzalez, right? Michael?"

"Yeah. Can we talk about something else?"

Eddie was quiet, and you were worried you scared him off with your strong reaction.

"Let's talk about Beatrice Wood."

You smiled kindly, glad he didn't pry. You received a smile back from Eddie Munson for the first time, and it felt like you won the lottery.

Eddie decided he hated you. He hated you and your cute face and your stupid laugh. He despised you. You freaky-art-making bubbly cheerleader.

And there he was. Nothing more than an anomaly who reeked of weed and cigarettes. A nerd-game-playing, grumpy freak.

And the worst part? He was falling for you. Hard. Oh, he loathed you because he knew you would never feel the same way.

You were too good for him. Too pretty, too nice, too lovely.

"You weren't here yesterday," You grab some slip with a frown as Eddie sits across from you.

"Yeah... I was at home."

"I saw you during passing period, Eddie. Where were you?"

Eddie sighed, "I was dealing."

"The whole period?" You threw your slab a little too hard. Eddie flinched.

"Yeah."

You solemnly nodded. There had to be some reason Eddie ditched. Maybe it was you. His whole M.O. was "hating cheerleaders," so would it be that ridiculous to assume he didn't like you? It would, you decided. He liked you. He spent so much time with you. Sure, it was to work on the project, but there was no doubt in your mind that you spent more time together than anyone should during a research project.

"Whatcha thinking about, princess?" He smirks.

You sigh, "Things I shouldn't be thinking about."

"Like... me?" He hopes he doesn't come off as desperate.

"Maybe," You smile, "Maybe not."

"That wasn't a no."

"It certainly wasn't," You confirm.

Eddie beams.

"You've been spending a lot of time with the freak," Jason says during lunch.

"His name is Eddie, Carver. He's a person." You cross your arms, then mutter: "Unlike you."

"What did you just say?" He asks.

"Nothing, Jason," You glare at him.

"Look," He barks out a humorless laugh, "I don't get why you jump to defend him. He's a freak. He's probably got a sock at home with your name on it. He's not good for you."

And that's when you snap, "Oh, like you know what's good for me! Do you even know my favorite color? Because I'm sure he does!"

Carver has nothing to say to that, and he leaves you alone.

"I am so sick of Carver," You moan in the locker room.

"So am I, if I'm being honest," Allie concurs.

"I literally was not talking to you, Allie." You huff out.

"Jeez," She murmurs, "No need to be so rude."

"Actually, Allie," You turn to her, "There is."

You walk into the drama room, and Eddie greets you. He makes everyone else welcome you. It's a nice feeling that makes you warm inside.

"Sorry it ran late, princess," Eddie apologizes as you sit in his van.

"It's okay," You reassure, "I drew some more."

Eddie nearly slams on the breaks, "You did?"

"I did," You gleam like the star you are.

"Can't wait to see them."

"Sweet thing, these are amazing." Eddie isn't smiling, and it would worry you if not for his tone. He's so sincere, and you melt. "What if you draw something for me?" He proposes.

"I will," You promise, "After we work."

"Take as much time as you need, princess."

You don't understand why everyone seems to despise him. Eddie's a good kid with a kind heart, and you really enjoy him and his company. He's funny and stupid and cute. Yes, Eddie Munson is cute, attractive, pretty, whatever word you want. And you're surprised you didn't notice it sooner, but as he sits on his bed, tongue poking out ever so slightly as he reads, you can't deny how attracted you are to him.

"Allie keeps talking about Michael," You mention. It was out of nowhere. You were both silently writing. Eddie looks up at you, and you look... wounded.

"Yeah? What about him?"

You huff, "About how he's so great."

Eddie frowns, "Look, sweet thing, I know you don't like Allie, but why are you so upset she's with Michael?"

You look like you're about to burst into tears, and Eddie is scared he's said the wrong thing.

"Because I should be with him." You put and cross your arms.

"You like Michael?" Eddie is surprised because Gonzalez is a douchebag, and you're a sweet angel.

"Not anymore," You harshly wipe at your eyes, "We used to date."

Eddie's heart frowns, "And Allie...?"

"Took him from me!" You sniffle; Eddie's heart breaks.

"I sound childish," You determine, trying to blink back the onslaught of tears approaching, "But she just took him, and she doesn't even care about how I felt. Y'know she told me you were going to lure me and sacrifice me? How cruel is that?"

"That's... wow. Allie really is a bitch, isn't she?"

You solemnly nod as Eddie wraps his arm around you. You soften into it.

"For what it's worth, Michael's an idiot." He mutters into your hair.

"An idiot?" you look up at him, eyes all big and watery.

"An idiot to lose a girl like you."

"Can I kiss you?" You realize after you've said it that you sound lame, but as Eddie ducks down to place his lips on yours, you couldn't care less.

You dial your home's number into the phone, twisting the cord around your finger, kiss-bitten lips, and a wide grin.

The phone rings once, twice, three times, then your mother answers.

"Y/l residence."

"Mom," You all but gush, "I'm gonna stay over at a friend's tonight."

"Y/n? Who?"

"My friend Eddie," You're quiet, testing the waters.

"Eddie?" You can hear the apprehension in her voice, "A boy?"

"Yes, mom. A boy."

"Honey," She sighs, "You need to wash your uniform. I trust you, but..."

"But?"

"I don't want you staying over at his house. I don't even know him."

You shake your head at an excited Eddie, whose mood sours.

"Okay. I'll see you in a little." You sigh, hanging up.

"No dice?" Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.

"No dice." You confirm, and you both frown.

"Bye, princess," Eddie says as you open the door to the van

"Bye, Eddie," You smile, happy with the outcome of your study sesh.

You scream into your pillow that night, murmuring: "I kissed him." Over and over, still shocked.

"I forgot to give this to you yesterday," You push a piece of folded paper toward Eddie.

"What is it?"

"Just... open the paper."

You've drawn a cute bunny. Eddie smiles, "For me?"

"For you."

"This is so metal, babe."

You laugh, "Are you sure about that? It's a bunny."

"Most metal thing ever." He affirms.

The next day after class, Eddie shows you a tattoo of a small bunny on his arm, right next to the bats.

"You—" You point at his arm, "You got it tattooed?"

"'Course I did, sweet thing. Most metal thing ever, remember?"

You stumble into the cafeteria with Eddie.

"Oh my god!" You laugh, and all eyes are on you. You, the princess of Hawkins High, are laughing—not at, but with Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson, the school freak.

"I cannot believe you got it tattooed."

"Believe it, babe."

And, for the first time, you walk right past the "popular kids" table. You sit next to Eddie, unbothered.

thank you for reading, lovely ₊˚.༄

mutuals ଘ(੭ ˊᵕˋ)੭*༺ ♡‧₊˚ @forourmoons @lucasnclair @vampieteeth @sw34terw34ther @imshiningjustforyou @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @maddipoof @meredarling @masivechaos

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nouearth · 8 months

Text

a summer phase.

jason carver x male reader.

summary: jason keeps telling himself that it's just a phase, yet it's become a weekly routine to spend the evening with you.

wc: 1.5k. warnings: explicit smut, kinda angst, handjob (r!giving, jason!giving), lots of kissing, mutual masturbation, closeted!jason, hurt!reader, internalized homophobia.

a/n: hi, hi! just a short little fic because i wanted to write jason, and i swear, we need more smut with him, haha. this kinda turned out sadder than i thought, but i do plan on making a second part to include a jealous!jason when reader is takling to eddie! i haven't been active as much and i apologize, but i hope everyone is doing great!

A gentle breeze blew in from the open window and the wind chimes gently sang from the floor below, joining two spirits that had been sharing warm pants with one another, evoking moans from another. The golden evening had settled in the background and silhouetted the writhing bodies into dark shadows. Droplets of sweat had caught onto the glimpse of fading sun, allowing Jason to memorize the detail of your body before dusk conquered his room.

The muscles that tensed when he squeezed harder around your cock, the squirms that caused the creaking of his bed when he fondled your balls, the gulps that failed to bury moans when he leaned in and kissed at your throat; you followed Jason’s lead into dusk, mirroring his actions to his own cock as he worshipped you and your presence until you were his prayer, his promise, to the kingdom of heaven.

“I’m close…” You panted into the open-mouthed kiss, legs tangled into his as both of your bodies reflected off of each other, sitting straight. Your thighs had sat sticky on his muscular pair and you can feel him tense when your rhythm quickens, your fist tightening to press the pulsing veins into his sprouted cock.

“Me too…” Jason sputtered, leaning his forehead against yours and placed a tightening hold on the back of your neck to hold you close. He held the languidness of your gaze past the heaviness of his own lids, and a terrible guilt he crept up on him because he was terribly enraptured by the effect he had on you, by the effect you had on him. He’d seen you in this state so often, even the darkness couldn’t have hidden the explosion of stars in your eyes.

It was wrong.

He pulled you forward to explore the inside of your mouth, stroking your cock at a pace you couldn’t have possibly kept up with. His tongue mined for a taste of you. Moans unfurled when the fruity cereal that you both had shared earlier spread onto his wet flesh and Jason kept exploring, kissing, moaning, tasting, until he captured the sound of your rapture and swallowed it in heavy pride, pushing down the thoughts that had been condemning him for his sins.

Your hips buckled, releasing your fist around Jason’s cock, and you came undone in several thick ropes. “Fuck—“ Your chest rose and your stomach sank as Jason’s strokes aided every second of the unimaginable pleasure, drawing you out until you were empty before him. The cum splattered onto his broad chest, dripped heavily down his toned stomach, and he reused the warm seed that gathered on his fist to lube his own cock and fuck into his fist after.

“Open your mouth—“ He rose onto his knees, breath hitching and chest rising, while there was enough light in the room for you to carefully maneuver yourself under Jason’s legs. You leaned back onto your elbows, legs sprawled, and pushed your tongue out once you tilted your head back. Droplets of your own cum dripped from his lubed erection and onto your face from the quick, yet clumsy rhythm of his strokes, but you didn’t feel stained until he neared his cock closer to your face. The strong muscles in his thighs kept him balanced on the bed and your pants began to quicken again, joining him in anticipation of his arrival to a delirious state of mind, and welcoming him with an open mouth once he comes. “Baby, I’m going to—“

Before he could finish his warning, your cheek was hit with a heavy splat, then your forehead, then on your hair, and then the centre of your face. “Fuck, Jason—“ For a basketball player, his aim was horrible, and you couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle as you kept your head tilted back, providing him a canvas for him to paint white on. You took all of the remaining thick cum in pride, replacing his hand with yours to stroke him through the shower Jason had continue to cover your face and body with.

The cum sat thick and heavy on your skin, and you basked yourself in the weight of it, sighing when you flattened yourself on the bed. Jason joined you seconds after grabbing a spare towel off his chair, groaning by your side when his sheets pressed uncomfortably wet onto his back. Doting wipes pressed to your face, then your body as he cleansed you with a gentleness that could soothe you to sleep. Though, you were only kept awake because of Jason. His lips attached to yours quickly after, and you kissed back languidly, tracing the curl of his smile with sweet chaste. He pulled away sighing and shared one last gaze that rendered every meaning of ‘beautiful’ useless until you perfectly defined it with the reserve of your smile.

There was a silence after. It thickened the sudden tension in the air, and even though the night had blinded you, you could see the parting of Jason’s lips when you turned your head to face him when he joined you by your side. The dim light from the window had highlighted the contemplative look on his face, and your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.

You already knew what he was about to tell you. The regret in the tremor of his voice was profound, even with the slightest croak, and you immediately turned your head the other way when you felt your eyes sting.

“I-uh… I’ll get going now.” It was a routine at this point. You and him did stuff, and he apologetically shooed you out before anyone could see him with someone like you. Even if his parents wouldn’t be home for another month, the act of liking another man ignited a guilt that boiled his feelings alive. Whether they would die off or come back stronger, he’d do his best to bury them deep enough to convince him that it was a phase.

It was wrong. And it was a phase.

All a phase.

You cleared your throat to soften the swelling feeling in your chest and rolled off his bed to change back into your clothes. Coughs and ruffles of clothes covered the sound of your sniffles. He watched you in silence, guilt-ridden as your back turned towards him, and he clutched at the bed sheet to ground him from succumbing to further transgression. The frail of your back looked cold enough to reflect ice into his own hands if he was to touch you. Even when your shirt draped over it, he’d imagine the goosebumps on your body to prick him like icicles, and—so bad, he wanted to hug you even if it meant that he’d be pricked by a hundred million ice spikes.

“I’ll drive you home…“ He surrendered, stepping out of the bed, and into his briefs and shorts.

“I can walk.” You scanned the floor for the other half of your socks, finding them near the corner of the room.

“It’s dark out, (M/N).” Jason pulled his t-shirt on and neared close, reasoning. “Besides, you live twenty minutes away—walking distance.”

It was a desperate attempt to spend more time with you, even though it was his own guilt and pride that pushed you away. During school, it was Jason that ignored your very existence. Surrounded by adoring classmates and friends with a reputation to uphold, it was easy to. A selfish part of you wished he struggled to contain his feelings when you were within his vicinity. Instead, when your gaze met his, he looked past you as if he’d never seen the light of your eyes, as if he didn’t worship the warm sheen that resided in them nights prior.

“It’s fine.” You layered your backpack over your shoulder, gaze casted downwards as you kicked your shoes on despite Jason’s attempt to steal a glimpse of your face. “People are going to see us.”

“I doubt anyone’s going to be out at this time now—“ You wished he would’ve said that he didn’t care about being caught. He followed you downstairs, the blades of icicles growing sharper with every step you took. “Slow down!”

“I’ll see you in class.” Your chest swelled again knowing that he’d rather choose not to, but you assured of that matter with a smile. His hand naturally reached out to take your hand, another attempt to stall you for a little while longer.

“Please? Let’s talk—“ Overcome by despair, he held your hand tight, letting the roughness of his palm linger on your own despite every second counting against his morals. Jason squeezed, intertwining his fingers into yours to lock you in place. “I-I think we can—“

But your fingers yanked back at the hook of his fingers, and you reluctantly pulled your arm back to your side. Silence fell, and the sound of Jason’s gulp swayed you back around before trudging out of his home and closing the door shut behind you.

“(M/N)!”

The warmth from your hand remained on Jason’s hand as he watched you march into the night, flexing his fingers at every lingering spark, yet you continued to be the despair of him.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!

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bellofthemeadow · 7 months

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Harrington!reader, Steve’s little sister. Popular, a cheerleader, first time senior and Chrissy’s best friend. But she has a secret that only her best friend knows. She’s had a crush on Eddie Munson since middle school. She’s afraid to tell him, thinking there’s no way he’d be into her. Until one day in the cafeteria, Jason Carver calls Eddie a freak. She confronts him, and punches him in the face, breaking or spraining her hand/wrist. Guess her little secret is out, and she may never be popular again.

OF COURSE MY DEAR ANON! I am so sorry it took forever to address this request! I have just started my final year of Uni, and with four seminars and graduate applications, I have not had any time to write consistently! But this idea was too enticing to pass up, so thank you very much for sharing it! For those waiting on other fics, I am slowly but surely getting back into the groove of writing more consistently so it should all come out sooner rather than later (hopefully) and I always welcome more fics or one shot ideas! Thank you to y'all for bearing with me, I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️

No warnings excpet for some violence (against Jason Carver so thats fine I think) and some heavy make out session

Word Count: 5.3K

Masterlist

Hit Me Baby One More Time

You had gotten your first taste of popularity on your very first day of middle school, a couple of years ago. That entire week leading up to it had been filled with fear and stress about what people would think of you. Overwhelmed, you had spent the last few days of your summer agonizing over your outfit choice, turning your daily fashion show into a reluctant performance for your big brother, Steve. Despite his huffs and puffs, he had reassured you that everything would go smoothly, but you couldn't help to worry. Eventually, you ended up settling on a cute white dress that reached just above your knees, paired with a soft baby pink cardigan. You had hoped it would be enough to get some of the right kind of attention that Steve always talked about.

In hindsight, you realized that you might have been a tad dramatic as when lunchtime had rolled around, a group of girls had approached you, giggling with excitement. "Are you Steve Harrington's sister?" they had asked-whispered with bright envious eyes. You slowly nodded, and with elated giggles, they ushered you over to their table, where the popular crowd was hanging out. It turned out your brother had quite the reputation, and while you knew he was popular, you hadn't fully grasped the extent to which the name Harrington would impact your social life. For you, Steve was just the idiot older brother who used Farah Fawcet's hairspray to keep his dumb hair in place – But to everyone else, it seemed that Steve was a pretty big deal. So, you were, it seemed, a legacy, and the rest, as they say, was history. And that very day, you also ended up meeting your future best friend, Chrissy Cunningham, who you would grow to love with all your heart.

Five years had come and gone, and now, you were finally well-established into your senior year, ready to graduate in the spring. And while it was true that your older brother might have facilitated your initial entry into the realm of popularity, you had since etched out a distinctive name for yourself. As your brother moved on to new chapters in his life (namely an underpaid job at family video), your own journey through high school took a markedly different path. In fact, your popularity had continued to ascend, like a rising star in the night sky.

Though the Harrington name may have laid the foundation, you had meticulously built upon it, brick by brick. You had cultivated your own unique persona, and it had become a force to be reckoned with in the hallways of your school. No longer living in the shadow of your brother's glory days, you had emerged as a charismatic figure in your own right.

You had become The Harrington sibling who truly counted, especially after the dramatic showdown between Steve and Billy Hargrove during his own senior year. In the aftermath of that clash, your brother's social standing had taken a considerable hit, with much of his social credit being seized by the mullet-wearing bad-boy. The Harrington name, which had once been associated with Steve's swagger, now conjured images of a radiant, saccharine smile, cheerleading outfits, and a personality as pinky-sweet as bubblegum.

While Chrissy indisputably reigned as the queen of Hawkins High, some believed it was only because you had no desire to claim that throne—a belief rooted in truth as you had no interest of being the queen of anything, especially Hawkins High as beyond Chrissy, you harboured little affection for the other members of the popular clique. Whether it was Jason Carver and his cronies or the remainder of the cheer squad, you couldn't help but find them increasingly vapid.

Nestled at the popular table right in the heart of the bustling cafeteria, always donning Hawkins’ green cheer outfit, a nagging sensation of inauthenticity always clung to you. Hitching deep into your soul, making you feel like the fraud you’ve always believed yourself to be as although your elevated social status had smoothed your journey through high school, ensuring a constant stream of party invitations, a steadfast companion, and even a few favors from teachers who were drawn to your preppy smile and sunny disposition, it all felt like a facade, far removed from your true self.

You’ve always known how deep inside, there were facets of who you really were that you couldn't openly share with anyone but Chrissy. She alone knew of your profound love for fantasy and science fiction novels. Nothing brought you more joy than retreating home to dive headlong into the mystical realms crafted by H.P. Lovecraft or to lose yourself once more in the pages of your well-worn copy of "Frankenstein." Yet, these passions remained concealed beneath the veneer you projected: the princess of Hawkins High, painted in shades of pink, sweet, and deceptively perfect.

The idea of letting those hidden, nerdy passions of yours see the light of day felt like a risky bet, one that could potentially leave you feeling incredibly alone at Hawkins High. The thought of losing friends and having nowhere to sit during lunch was a constant source of worry. You had faith in Chrissy's unwavering support, regardless of your social standing, but you couldn't bear the idea of burdening her. She was just so kind, always forgiving even to those who didn't deserve it, and you didn't want to be the one responsible for pulling her down.

As a result, the decision to keep these aspects of your identity hidden weighed heavily on your heart. It felt like an unspoken loneliness, a sacrifice you were making to preserve the fragile balance of the life you'd carefully constructed in high school. Hawkins High had its own intricate ecosystem, and you were very much a part of it. Your place within that system was delicate, and you couldn't afford to disrupt it, fearing that it might set off a chain reaction that could destabilize everything. You had no intention of being the one to upset the frail high school biome of Hawkins High.

Now, however, your situation was far from ideal as you found yourself sandwiched between Carly and Tina during lunch, and today, they were even more exasperating than usual. There seemed to be some sort of fallout from Tina's last party, something involving a boy, and now the two girls communicated exclusively through snarky remarks, making the tension rise with every snip from either girl. A brewing headache was beginning to claw at your temples as you were waiting for the explosion to erupt sooner rather than later.

What was happening in front of you wasn’t any better as you were given a front-row seat to the somewhat uncomfortable sight of Jason Carver deeply engrossed in a passionate kiss with Chrissy. She appeared to be on the brink of embarrassment, her attempts to gently push Jason away carried out with shy reluctance. "Jason, please," she implored, her manicured hand finding its way to his chest, a plea in her eyes. "Not in front of everyone..."

In response, Jason merely rolled his eyes dismissively. "Come on, baby," he insisted, his voice low and unconcerned. "No one's even paying attention to us."

You couldn't help but scowl, unhappiness etching your delicate features as you watched the uncomfortable display unfold before you. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You cleared your throat and loudly exclaimed, "Hey, Chrissy?" All eyes turned to you, and you continued, "Do you think we could slip away from lunch a bit early to go over the routine we've been practicing for the upcoming game? I really want to make sure I've got it down perfectly before tonight's match."

Chrissy's sigh of relief was almost audible, and you could sense her gratitude. In contrast, Jason huffed unhappily, clearly irritated by the interruption. He muttered something about leaving you girls to your conversation before he got up and headed to chat with one of his buddies at the far end of the table.

You and Chrissy shared a quick, wordless girl-to-girl conversation. All the words you needed were conveyed through a bombastic side-eye from you and a subtle nod of your head toward Jason. Chrissy responded with a playful roll of her eyes and a slight shake of her shoulder, silently agreeing with your sentiment.

As your eyes shifted away from Chrissy, they unexpectedly locked onto the deep brown ones of Eddie Munson. Two distinct emotions surged from deep within you. One was a rush of excitement as the warmth of your crush enveloped you, causing your face to flush as red as a ripe apple under his gaze. But in an instant, that crush felt almost crushing when you realized that it wasn't you that Eddie was looking at, but rather Chrissy's high ponytail that had captured his attention.

Eddie and Chrissy. Chrissy and Eddie. ChrissyandEddie. It was an undeniable fact that the guy you had the most enormous crush on happened to be utterly smitten with your best friend. It felt almost tragically comical, if you were being honest with yourself. Throughout high school, countless guys had mustered the courage to ask you out, but you had dismissed them all without a second thought. Football jocks, band nerds, potheads, music fanatics – none of them could hold a candle to Eddie Munson in your eyes.From the very moment you first crossed paths with Eddie during your freshman year, your heart had been irreversibly, completely, and utterly captivated by the charismatic and outspoken boy. You were utterly unprepared for it, not like you were out there seeking Cupid's arrow to pierce your heart. You had simply been an unsuspecting victim of one of its whims, but the exquisite pain that followed was worth it. At least, you hoped so.

Thanks to Eddie's recurring attempts at redoing his senior year and your placement in advanced classes, your worlds intersected more than once. One particularly unforgettable encounter unfolded in Mrs. Allen's math class, where the teacher had a peculiar notion that pairing the class's worst student (Eddie) with its best (you) would somehow work magic. You were left a bit shy and entirely tongue-tied in his presence, but Eddie had an uncanny talent for leaning in close and delivering a barrage of side-splitting, utterly inappropriate observations about Mrs. Allen that left you snorting with laughter. For a glorious three months, Eddie was your math partner in crime, and during that time, you dared to believe that something more could evolve from your interactions. If only you could string together coherent sentences without tripping over your words.

However, as fate would have it, the teacher eventually grew tired of her seating arrangement, deciding it was high time to shake things up. This twist in your high school narrative resulted in you and Eddie being separated, an alteration you weren't particularly thrilled about. The new arrangement effectively put a damper on your burgeoning connection.

It was in the midst of this seating shuffle that Eddie tossed a rather loaded question your way, catching you off guard. "Your friend Chrissy," he began, as you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. "Is she still with that Carver douche?" Your gaze faltered as you met his, a nod escaping your lips as a wave of disappointment surged within you. Inwardly grappling with the sting of unspoken heartache, you found yourself clutching the hem of your cheer skirt almost desperately. Without another word, you retreated to your newly assigned seat, a sense of melancholy lingering like a shadow and bitter disappointment coating your tongue.

Even now, your gaze would involuntarily flicker to Eddie whenever you found yourself in the same room. Often, he'd be engrossed in conversations with his bandmates or his D&D group, leaving you on the outside looking in. It was a conflicting sensation, feeling his presence so near yet so far away. If only you could gather the nerve to strike up a conversation with him, but you hesitated. After all, you were the popular girl, the one who played by the rules, and good girls weren't supposed to mix with people like Eddie, no matter how much you desperately longed for it. Perhaps during math class today, you thought, you might find a plausible excuse to approach him. Maybe something as simple as asking about the homework or...

"And what the hell do you think you're staring at, Freak!?" The sudden hush that swept over the cafeteria was palpable as every head turned toward Jason, who had abandoned your table and was now striding purposefully toward the one where Eddie and his friends were seated. A chill coursed through your veins, causing your face to pale. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the unfolding drama as Eddie rose from his seat. While he appeared outwardly confident, the telltale clenching and unclenching of his hand betrayed the nervousness bubbling beneath the surface. It was clear to you that what he was displaying might just be a facade of bravado.

"Did you dribble that orange ball a few too many times, Carver?" Eddie sarcastically chimed in. His words hung in the air, an open challenge that seemed to stoke the flames of Jason's anger. In a fit of rage, Jason lunged forward, grabbing Eddie by the front of his well-worn jeans jacket. The cafeteria held its breath, anticipation hanging heavy in.

A gasp escaped your lips, a sharp, involuntary intake of breath as the dramatic confrontation unfolded before your eyes. Abruptly, you shot up from your seat, causing Chrissy to turn around in surprise. She sent you an uncertain look as you started to stride toward the two boys. It was as if you were possessed by a force stronger than yourself, you couldn’t let whatever was happening continue – you had to do something!

"Don't try to bullshit me, freak!" Jason's voice reverberated through the cafeteria, anger and scorn dripping from his words. "I saw you looking at Chrissy. You think you can just lay your eyes on her, you freak? She isn't yours; you're nothing but trailer trash! Don't you ever dare to look at her again, alright? Or I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget!" Jason was so close to Eddie's face that his spittle sprayed across the other boy's features. He shoved Eddie backward, and it was at that moment, as you were making your way between the mass of students that had clustered around Jason and Eddie that you felt a surge of red-hot anger like nothing you had ever felt before.

"Do I make myself clear, freak?" Jason continued, his voice dripping with malice. "Or do I need to send my boys to deal with you and your pathetic group of losers?" Eddie looked incensed, but he cowered under Jason's menacing threat.

"I...wasn't...looking," Eddie enunciated each word through gritted teeth, avoiding Jason's eyes. Jason burst into fake laughter, glancing around at the onlookers.

"Does the freak have a crush?" he taunted, his voice cruel and derisive. "That's hilarious. You honestly think you'd have a chance with Chrissy? Be realistic, freak. What is it now, twice repeating your senior year?" Eddie's face turned a deep shade of pink, shame washing over him as Jason's taunts struck at his insecurities. His shoulders sagged with each insult, and he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Everyone knows anyway that the only way a freak like you could ever get close to a girl is when you and your little cult of Satan practice some sacrifices," Jason continued, his words laced with venom. "I'm even surprised they let people like you in here. Everyone knows what kind of trash your dad was, it ain't surprising that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree…”

You pushed your way through the crowd, determination propelling you forward. Without a second thought, you strode purposefully toward the back of Jason. Eddie's surprised gaze locked onto you as you confidently approached them.

You extended your arm and lightly tapped Jason on the shoulder, effectively cutting off his rant mid-sentence. The abruptness of your action prompted Jason to whirl around to face you, his typically handsome features now contorted into a repulsive mask of anger. It was a stark contrast to the carefully cultivated "cool-guy" image he often projected. But deep down, you knew this enraged countenance was his true face, hidden behind the facade. In fight or flight mode, you recalled your brother Steve's advice about fighting, which you had stored away in your memory, "Sis," Steve's voice echoed in your mind, "when you throw a punch, put your entire body behind it."

And that's precisely what you did. With every ounce of your body weight, you thrust your fist forward directly into Jason's face. The cafeteria was filled with a sharp crack, echoing through the room, followed by a collective gasp from everyone present. An eerie silence descended upon the cafeteria.

Jason lay sprawled on the floor, a violent stream of blood gushing from his nose, while you clutched your hand close to your chest. Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes. No one had ever warned you that hitting someone would hurt like an absolute nightmare! It ] wasn’t like that in the movies!

Your gaze landed on Eddie, and you noticed a peculiar expression take over the young metalhead’s face – His brown gaze held something unfamiliar, a look you had never seen throughout the time you had been admiring him from afar. I was as though he were seeing you – like he was attempting to decipher the mechanics of your very being. It caught you off guard, this intensity in his stare, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.

“YOU BITCH! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!” Jason roared from his sprawled position on the ground.

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from Eddie, you redirected it toward the fallen boy who cut a rather pathetic figure at your feet. Curling your lip in disdain, you adopted your most haughty tone and huffed, "You, Jason Carver, are the problem here!"

Jason, still sprawled on the floor with a nosebleed, glared up at you, his anger palpable, "You little—"

Before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off with a stern gesture. "Save it, Jason. You had this coming."

A stunned silence blanketed the cafeteria, every eye fixed on the unfolding confrontation. It was as if time had frozen, and the entire room held its breath in rapt attention as Hawkins' princess unleashed her verbal assault on the school's reigning king.

In that moment, you felt like you had the entire cafeteria in a chokehold, and you were determined not to let this opportunity slip away, not after what Jason had put Eddie through. Gathering your resolve, you continued, your voice dripping with disdain, "Do you honestly believe you can bully and belittle people just because they don't conform to your narrow definition of 'normal'? Well, I've had enough of your toxic attitude! You, my dear Jason, are the most insufferable idiot I've ever had the displeasure of encountering in my entire life! And I am done catering to whatever you and your dumb friends say!”

Jason struggled to get up, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. Turning back to Jason, you crossed your arms and delivered your final message with authority. "Consider this a warning, Jason. Mess with Eddie or anyone else again, and you'll have me to answer to."

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" Principal Higgins' thunderous voice pierced through the otherwise eerily silent cafeteria. In an instant, your confidence evaporated, leaving you feeling pale and exposed. You were caught off guard, unable to process what to do or say.

Before you could even react, a familiar, warm hand firmly grabbed yours, yanking you along as they sprinted in the opposite direction, forcefully pushing people out of the way. It was a grip you knew well, and you didn't hesitate to follow Eddie as he practically dragged you toward the exit of the cafeteria.

The scene you left behind was nothing short of chaotic. The entire school stood in a collective stupor, mouths agape in disbelief. Jason Carver, his face an alarming shade of red, appeared on the brink of an aneurysm as he struggled to regain his composure. Principal Higgins, in his authoritative fury, barked orders at the bewildered students, demanding answers and an immediate end to the commotion.

As you reached the exit and the clamor of the cafeteria began to fade, you couldn't help but let out a giggle of exhilaration. Eddie continued to lead you, now behind the school building and into the dense woods that bordered the campus. The farther you ventured into the secluded forest, the more you appreciated the sudden escape from the madness. Eventually, Eddie brought you to a worn-out picnic table, the wood weathered by years of exposure to the elements. Eddie finally managed to catch his breath. He exhaled heavily and asked, "What the hell... hfff... was that?!"

You leaned against the picnic table, still catching your own breath, and grinned at Eddie. "That, Eddie, was me finally giving Jason Carver a taste of his own medicine. That douchebag had it coming!"

Eddie let out a loud surprised laugh while still trying to catch his breath, his eyes still wide from the unexpected turn of events. "Well, I've gotta say, sweetheart, that was quite the show back there. You really let him have it, you got a mean hook princess." A warm flush of pride swept over you as you soaked in Eddie's praises. How long had you waited to hear him say something like that—to acknowledge you and gaze at you as if you were the most wonderful girl in the world? It was a feeling you had been yearning for so long, and if you were to die right now, you would die happy!

Eddie's warm, chocolate-coloured gaze landed on you, and it felt as though it softly swept over every inch of your being. He spoke, his voice filled with curiosity, "I don't think anyone was expecting Hawkins' princess to come to the defence of the 'freak.' You know they won't let you forget this, right? Why would you risk all that for little old me, Harrington?"

You let out a sigh, the weight of his inquisitive gaze pressing on you. As you closed your eyes briefly, you grappled with the emotions that had been swirling within you since the first time you had laid eyes on Eddie. A small smile crept onto your lips as you slowly opened your eyes, fixing them on the boy of your dreams. "You're worth it, Munson."

Eddie drew in a sharp breath, taking three steps closer to you. His large, warm hands, bearing tiny scars from playing the guitar, gently swept across your cheeks as he gazed intently into your eyes. "Do you mean that, Harrington? Because there's no going back if I kiss you right now—it's you and me, the princess and the 'freak.' You won’t climb back from that fall.”

You glanced at your right hand, the knuckles scraped and the skin raw, with a slight swelling on your wrist. "I think it's a little too late for that anyway," you sheepishly admitted. Eddie smiled warmly, his eyes filled with admiration, before gently taking your hand in his two larger ones. He slowly brought your bruised knuckles to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on each of them, causing your breath to hitch.

"Who knew that the princess of Hawkins High was Indiana’s future boxing champion," Eddie softly joked, his voice laced with affection. "I just feel bad for this pretty, soft hand – all bruised and battered to protect me, like the prettiest knight in pink armor coming to my rescue." You couldn't help but swoon at his words as Eddie continued to softly kiss your hand, his gaze slowly lifting to meet yours, his eyes filled with… Love? Tenderness? A girl could dream.

A warm smile curved across Eddie's lips, and he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his in a searing kiss. As you both savored each other, Eddie's hand slowly wrapped around the base of your neck, holding you close to him. As you were trying not to faint from the sheer pleasure this moment was bringing you, a flash of remembrance rushed through you, snapping you back from your trance and causing you to break the kiss and catch your breath. You whispered softly against Eddie's lips, "What about Chrissy?"

Eddie nuzzled your face with his nose, his lips brushing lightly against your skin. "What about her?" he retorted playfully. "I mean... I thought... I thought you had a thing for her," you admitted meekly.

Eddie smirked against your cheek. "If I did, I wouldn't be kissing you right now, right?" His voice held a teasing edge as he continued to shower your neck with tender kisses.

You closed your eyes, feeling a mix of contradicting emotions – wanting to keep going to feel more of him, wishing him to stop playing with your heart because you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. "I mean it, Eddie... I don't want to be your second choice."

Eddie stopped his ministrations and returned to your face, holding your gaze with his. "You were always my first choice, Eddie," you confessed, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. "And I don't think I could handle being your backup plan."

Eddie's whispers were tender as he wiped away the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks. "Nononono, sweetheart. Don't cry, please," he implored softly. "You were always my first choice." His words held a reassuring sincerity that began to soothe your racing heart. But you wouldn’t be so easily swayed, as much as you loathed Jason Carver, you had witnessed first hand how Eddie seemed enraptured with Chrissy.

You huffed in disbelief, but Eddie insisted, urging you to meet his gaze. "No, it's true. Hey, look at me," he gently encouraged. "I never thought I would ever have a chance with a girl like you. You know, you're like my dream girl, right?" You gave him an uncertain look, still wrestling with your doubts. "You always stare at Chrissy, though. And you did ask me if she was still with Jason, remember?"

Eddie released your cheeks and took a step back, embarrassment tinging his cheeks as he used a piece of his shaggy hair to shield himself from you. "I wasn't looking at Chrissy. You're always with Chrissy, so I was looking at you," he admitted, his voice tinged with shyness. "And I only asked you that because I panicked. I was going to ask you out, but the guys had been teasing me for weeks, telling me I was too much of a coward to do it. I guess they were right because I chickened out."

As Eddie continued, his embarrassment grew, and he took another step back. He held the piece of hair in front of his face, as if to hide himself from you. "I've actually had a crush on you since last year," he confessed, his words shocking you.

"Are you joking?!" you blurted out, astonished.

He shook his head, his warm brown eyes holding your gaze. "Not at all, princess," he began with a soft smile. "It was last year. You were on your way back from cheer practice, and you were in a hurry, holding a huge backpack. It happened so fast that you didn't even realize a book had fallen out."

His eyes sparkled as he continued, his tone becoming more animated. "I saw it lying there, and curiosity got the best of me – I picked it up, and to my surprise, it was a copy of 'The Hobbit.’” He grinned as if sharing a secret. "I was planning to return it to you, honestly, but then, when I opened it, I saw that there was a bunch of notes in the margins." Eddie started grinning even more as he continued “All there in the margins, notes, thoughts, musings. It was like reading your mind with every turn of the page. Your insights, your emotions, your laughter, and even your frustrations were all there in the margins. I knew I had stumbled upon the most precious treasure in the universe – it was a private window into you."

Your breath hitched at his words, and as Eddie spoke, you felt a warmth spreading through you, "It felt like we were close," Eddie continued, his gaze never leaving yours. "I couldn't put the book down. It was like having a conversation with you, even when you weren't around. I realized how much we had in common, how you saw the world, and it fascinated me.”

The thought that Eddie had held onto that copy of 'The Hobbit,' with your notes and thoughts, all this time was both surprising and heartwarming. Damn, he was perfect.

"Fuck, I sound so creepy," Eddie confessed, breaking your reverie. He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish.

But you weren’t creeped out, far from it. For the first time in your life, you felt completely understood by someone – inside and out. "No, Eddie," you whispered softly, your heart swelling with love. "You don't sound creepy at all. You sound... perfect." A sweet cocky grin got etched on Eddie’s lips “Perfect, eh?”

Getting overwhelmed by his stare, you tried to play it cool and diverted his question by teasingly asking, "So you’ve had a big fat crush on me for a while, right?"

Eddie chuckled, taking a step closer to you, his gaze locked on yours. "Don't get too high and mighty, princess," he said with a warm smile, his voice laced with adoration. "From the looks of it, you've got a pretty big crush on little old me too…"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling a delightful warmth in the pit of your stomach. "I can neither confirm nor deny that," you replied in a sing-song voice, your eyes never leaving his.

Eddie's smile deepened, his gaze filled with affection. With a tender touch, he placed his hands on your waist, and before you knew it, he had spun you around. You couldn't help but let out a joyful squeak as you twirled together in a sweet, romantic dance. As he gently lowered you back to the ground, his strong arms remained securely wrapped around your back, pulling you close.

In that intimate moment, it felt as though the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you entwined in each other's embrace. Your breaths synchronized, and you lost yourselves in each other's eyes, the unspoken promise of a beautiful future passing between you.

"Hey, Eddie," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath but filled with affection and longing.

Eddie's gaze softened even more, his eyes filled with tenderness as he held you close. "Yeah, princess?"

With a radiant smile, you leaned in closer to him, your heart singing with love. "I've got a big fat crush on you too."

A soft, contented sigh escaped Eddie's lips, and he held you even tighter as if he never wanted to let you go. "Good." And without another word, he pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. Nothing ever tasted sweeter.

“You gonna be alright sitting with the freaks now?” “As long as I sit with you Eddie, I could not care less.”

The fallen princess and the freak," you thought contentedly, "that has the ringing of a love story for the ages.” And all it took was that punch you threw at Jason Carver's face for you and Eddie to find your way to each other.

#eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #chrissy cunningham #jason carver

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drmaddict · 28 days

Text

The Lovers

Summary: Jason accuses (Y/n) the town witch that she has cast a spell on him. Neither of them would have expected, what was really behind it.

Wordcount: 7.370

"Ah!" I cried out in surprise, when I heard the crack and the dull bang behind me and whirled around. I had expected to see a heavy branch lying on the ground and not... Jason Carver?

"What are you doing here?" I shouted, still slightly tense.

He got to his feet and knocked the leaves off his jacket. "I could ask you that? What are you doing?", he asked angrily, pointing at the basket I was holding.

I looked at him in irritation.

"What kind of voodoo are you going to do, huh?"

I raised an eyebrow. "They're daisies, you moron." I demonstratively held up one of the small flowers. "You can use them to make an ointment for sunburn." I rolled my eyes. "You followed me all the way through this forest to play witch hunting? How long have you been following me?" He was absolutely crazy.

He came up to me. "Long enough to see that these aren't daisies.", he bit out, holding up the second plant in my basket.

"Yes, this is St. John's wort. My cousin has neurodermatitis. The creams from the pharmacy are all too expensive and they don't want anyone else to pay for them, so I make her one from this. It soothes chapped skin." I grabbed the little plant and threw it back into the basket. "And before you ask.", I continued, reaching into the basket. "Mint. For my satanic tea against bloating."

Jason looked at me dully, then shook his head. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I'm just here collecting some herbs and you're the stalker, who's been following me through the forest for at least fourty minutes.", I hissed.

Jason took a step back. "I know you're one of those weird wiccans."

"Witch."

"You admit it!"

"I'm correcting you.", I said simply.

He furrowed his eyebrows in irritation.

"Wicca is a religion. Most wiccans are witches. Not all witches are wiccans. It's like quadrates and squares." I teased him. "If you're going to hate me, you should at least use the right terms."

He looked at my basket. "Just because you're not doing anything wrong today, doesn't mean you're otherwise innocent."

I sighed. I just wanted my peace and quiet. "Yes, I'm usually sin itself. Can I have my peace now, please?"

"No."

I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "You know what? Do what you want." With that, I turned around and tried to concentrate on the plants. "At least don't trample everything.", I snapped at him and kept walking.

"What is this stuff really for?"

"I just told you."

"You're lying."

"I could pass a lie detector test Carver."

I bent down to grab a small wild garlic plant.

"What's that?" Jason asked, almost angrily.

"Wild garlic.", I explained. "It's simply delicious in food." I threw the plant into the basket. "You're welcome to keep stalking me Jason, but try to be less angry."

"Why?"

"Because I want this", I pointed to my basket, "to have positive energies."

"It's a plant."

"Do you pray for other people's misfortune?"

"No! I'm not."

"Then don't spoil my work, wanting to do something good for the people in my life... Even if it's just to help them with sunburn."

Jason stopped short and looked at me insistently. "How do I know you're not lying?"

I looked at him as calmly as you can look at someone who calls you Satan's bitch. It was his upbringing or the media. How was he supposed to know any better? "Look for Hildegard von Bingen's herbal bible in the library. I know everything about medicinal herbs from her."

"I'm not reading the book of some devil worshipper."

"Hildegard von Bingen was a nun.", I corrected him.

Jason faltered.

"If you don't trust me, maybe you trust one of your people."

He walked slowly backwards. "I'll keep an eye on you.", he said emotionlessly.

"I'll see you at school."

"I'm just saying. Be prepared for something to come up today.", I grumbled to Eddie, poking at my salad.

Eddie shook his head, upset. "He's been stalking you?"

"Yes.", I laughed. "If he hadn't been alone, I would have been really worried."

"He's out of his mind."

"Is that news?"

I didn't know what to expect today. That got me down. Ever since my former friend Melody unintentionally outed me as a witch, I never knew what to expect the next day. She had snooped through my things and found the little pentagram pendant. After the whole school knew about it, even the head teacher called me in and told my parents.

My dad thought I had a chip on my shoulder, but otherwise wasn't interested and my mom... Well, before I explained what I was doing and that the newspapers had no idea, it took a good three hours. Three hours with a lot of tears.

I never spoke to Melody again. Eddie had taken me in with the outsiders and Jason and his gang wanted to see me at the stake.

"We'll keep watch.", Eddie said, looking down the hall.

"My heroes.", I sighed dramatically.

He grinned and bowed exaggeratedly.

I was sitting at one of the tables at the edge of the forest, scribbling listlessly on my piece of paper, when a book banged on the table next to me.

I literally jumped up and stumbled backwards, so frightened, that I toppled over the bench and fell onto my back.

I saw blonde hair and a green and white jacket.

I picked myself up stiffly. "What the hell are you?" I grumbled. "Are you making any noise at all?"

I knocked the grass off my butt and gave Jason a dirty look. He looked back just as crossly.

I looked at the book on the table. Hildegard von Bingen. "You've read it.", I said in surprise.

"Skimmed it."

I looked at his angry face and sighed. "What's wrong now?"

"The herbs might be good, but you're doing something."

I ran a hand over my face. "Jason.", I began humbly. "I'll leave you alone. Can't you do me a favor and do the same to me?"

"No!"

"Why not?" I whined.

He was breathing heavily and turned away in a huff. "Because you did something. You did something to ME. ADMIT IT!"

I faltered. "Jason what are you talking about?"

"Why do I feel this way if you haven't done some witchcraft to me?" he hissed, coming closer and closer to me. I backed up until I bumped into a tree. Jason encircled me with his arms.

"I don't know what you're talking about.", I said almost fearfully. "I don't know what you mean Jason."

"Stop saying that!"

"Say what?"

"MY NAME!"

"Jas-" I bit my lips.

He was breathing heavily. "Undo it."

"I didn't do anything. You're scaring me."

"Undo it!", he growled. He looked at me almost frantically.

"You have to tell me what's wrong or I can't help you, but I didn't do anything."

"Then why do I feel like this?", he whispered angrily.

"How do you feel?", I asked, almost pleadingly. Hoping that he would stay calm.

"How do you feel Jason?"

No sooner had his name crossed my lips than he pressed his mouth to mine. Hard and unyielding. His hands held my head in place and his body pressed against mine. I was so caught off guard, that I just stood there, like a pillar of salt, waiting. Not quite grasping what was happening.

He abruptly disengaged and stumbled back. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "Undo it.", he whispered.

I looked at him in disbelief. Not a word escaped my lips. Not a sound escaped my throat. Until a fuse in my brain clicked into place and I ran away. I ran away as fast as I could, not wasting a single thought on my stuff, which were still lying on the table.

"He's did WHAT?", shouted Eddie angrily.

I sat at the kitchen table of the trailer and looked at the tabletop in disbelief.

"I think I'm going to be sick.", I whimpered. No. I really felt sick. I was sick to my stomach. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I made it just in time to take the contents of my stomach to the toilet.

Eddie stumbled after me and held my hair out of my face. He stroked my back reassuringly.

When I was sure nothing more was coming, I dropped onto my butt and felt the tears on my cheeks. I wrap my arms around my legs. Eddie held out a bottle of water to me.

"Take a deep breath.", he mumbled.

"They're going to kill me Eds."

"They won't. We'll keep you safe." He pulled me into his arms. "Nothing's going to happen."

My backpack was gone, of course. What had I expected?

I sat in the library and waited impatiently for Gareth to come. I hid behind my book and tried to stay calm. One of the boys had been keeping an eye on me all day. Just in case.

Jason had been like a madman. He'd gotten it into his head that I'd cast a spell on him. He had kissed me. Jason Carver. The poster boy Jason Carver somehow had... had a crush on me and now thought I'd made him. Jason Carver had a crush on me and he hated himself for it. I was startled when I heard a backpack fall onto the table, but before I even looked up, I saw Jason's back disappearing quickly and my backpack in front of me. I reached for it hesitantly. Slowly pulled open the zipper. Carefully peeked inside. Nothing happened.

"Your backpack is back?"

I winced.

"Since when are you so jumpy?" Gareth grinned.

"Since I'm waiting for the Inquisition.", I grumbled.

POV Jason

How had I let myself get so carried away? How could I have been so stupid? Why hadn't I stayed away from her? I had given her far too much power over me.

My head was buzzing with thoughts as I walked into the theater room as Luke's note told me to.

That little witch. Why had she run away, when this was exactly what she had wanted? That had been her goal. To cast a spell on me. Had she realized that this couldn't be love? Had she perhaps really done nothing - I interrupted the thought immediately. Of course she had done something. I would never think like that about someone, who went against everything I stood for.

The door of the theater room slammed shut loudly. I turned around with a jolt and caught sight of Eddie Munson.

"Ball boy. Glad you got my message."

I looked at the note in my hand. How could I have been so stupid?

"I heard about your little meeting with (Y/n) in the woods.", he continued, walking slowly towards me.

I shouldered my backpack and moved towards the door, but Munson grabbed me firmly by the shoulders and stopped me.

"Not so fast. Where are you going?"

"Let me go!"

"Why is that? I guess it's not so much fun being hassled yourself?"

I pulled my shoulders out of his grip and pushed him away. "That's what she wanted! She started this voodoo.", I hissed. "So tell her to undo it or leave me alone!"

Munson laughed. First in disbelief, then louder, harder, until he seemed almost unable to breathe. "Oh God!", he struggled to breathe. "You really believe that."

"What's so funny?", I shouted angrily.

Munson held his stomach and sat down on one of the folding chairs. "You have a crush and you don't realize it." He wiped a tear from his face.

"I don't-"

"You think you're pretty important, don't you?", he interrupted me, still slightly breathless. "Don't you think she'd have better targets, than some bore with a twist in his panties?"

I turned away angrily and left.

"Bother her again and you can find out how to throw your balls with crutches.", he shouted after me.

I pushed the door open hard and stormed through the corridors.

I don't have a crush on that witch. I don't want anything from her. No matter how many dreams I had in which she lay with me and in which she seduced me with her smile and her scent... Those dreams weren't real. They weren't my dreams. They couldn't be mine.

"Jason." my name fell from her lips like a prayer. She clawed at my back. I kissed her neck, marking it as my own, as I thrust into her again and again. Sometimes faster, sometimes slower. I let her dance on the threshold of pleasure. Never quite gave her what she wanted. I devoured her and she gave herself to me. (Y/n's) eyes were glassy and yet warm. Looked up at me with affection and admiration. Her hands caressed my back. Her legs wrapped around my hips. She moved towards me. We were united. Two bodies and two souls in harmony.

She twitched around me. Her body tensed. She collapsed in waves of excitement. She took me with her and caught me.

The fabric under my cheek was damp. I sat up with a jerk. I was alone. Alone in my room. Just me in my bed. Sweat was sticking to my body. I wiped the saliva from the corner of my mouth in disgust. My shorts were sticking to my crotch. I pulled a face.

Why in God's name did I have to be the target of this witchcraft? Why did these dreams have to feel so good? Why did I feel so safe in them? She was a witch! She was evil. She was not gentle and sweet. I had to remind myself that she had cast a spell on me. I couldn't love her!

Where did that word come from? Why did it want to creep into my head?

I felt tears running down my cheeks. I don't want to have these thoughts!

(Y/n)s POV

The last week I had gotten away with it. None of the jocks had hit on me or hinted at anything. It just made me even more paranoid.

I was waiting for a prank. Some kind of humiliation. I was almost longing for it so I could finally get it over with.

I was walking home when a sadly too familiar car drove up slowly beside me. I didn't look up, stubbornly continued straight ahead.

I heard the side window being rolled down.

"Get in!" Jason said stubbornly.

I walked on silently.

"Get in the car now!"

"No!" I replied stubbornly.

The car came to a halt. A door opened. I quickened my steps.

A hand clutched my upper arm. "I told you to get in.", he hissed.

"But I don't want to.", I spat back.

His grip on my arm became painfully tight. "And I don't want to have these thoughts, so get in."

I tried to pull away, but it didn't help. His hands were on my arms like vices.

"What are you going to do?"

"We're going to church."

I looked at him, perplexed. "Is the pyre ready or what? For fuck's sake, Carver! I don't want anything from you except to be left alone! Even if I could do what you accuse me of, which I can't by the way, why would I want the guy who's been spitting on me for months?"

He looked at me blankly. "We'll go to the church now and talk to the priest."

I realized tears were welling up in my eyes. It was all so absurd. It... It was humiliating. Someone had a crush on me and it was so absurd that it was really happening that he suspected I had bewitched him.

"Now come on!" he ordered, pulling me roughly towards his car.

I stumbled after him.

The drive was silent and tense. I had tried to jump out at a red light, but Jason had immediately had grabbed hold of me.

When we arrived at the church, Jason dragged me up the steps of the building and through the door into the large main room.

I had never been in a church before. My parents weren't believers, so there was never any reason to attend one.

He looked at me insistently.

I remained stubborn. "What? Did you expect me to burst into flames?"

His jaw tightened. "Come on." he growled.

Roughly, he dragged me to a small room and knocked.

Priest Mitchel opened it for us. "Jason. Hello... And you must be (Y/n)."

I nodded hesitantly.

"Can you give us a moment alone Jason?" the priest asked, stepping aside to clear the way into his office.

Jason reluctantly let go of me.

I cautiously stepped into the priest's office. I only knew him by sight, but he always seemed nice and friendly.

"Why don't you sit down for a minute? Would you like some tea?"

"Uh... No. Thanks."

He just nodded and sat down on an exercise ball opposite me. "They don't look particularly professional, but they're good for your back.", he smiled.

I just nodded. "My mom has one too."

He grinned. "Very well." He became more serious. "Jason told me about his situation." I stiffened. "Don't worry. I won't drag you to the torture chamber. But whether you've done anything or not... Jason... Got stuck on that idea and knowing the boy, he's not going to let it go."

I sighed. "So you're not getting out the pitchforks?"

He smiled. "No. Believe it or not. My wife went through a phase like you once."

"And if it's not a phase?"

"Then I pray you stay true to the right path anyway."

I looked thoughtfully at the table in front of me. "And how do I get rid of that witch hunter out there now?" I muttered. "You know him better than I do."

Father Mitchel looked thoughtfully at my bag. "You don't happen to have any herbs with you?"

I looked up irritated. "What? No. I was at school. What do I want with herbs there?"

"Hm... Well, the tea will have to do then."

He reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out a packet of fruit tea. Relaxed, he cut open a good six bags and tipped them into a small decorative bowl.

"What are you up to?"

He grinned. "We're breaking a spell for Jason's sake. Under my supervision, of course, so he'll feel more comfortable and confident about it."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Don't you always say you shouldn't lie?"

"Special situations call for special measures."

"You're a strange priest."

"And I'm very proud of that."

Less than five minutes later, I was sitting behind the church in front of a small bowl of fruit tea, trying to remain serious. Jason and Father Mitchel watched me from a safe distance, how I lit a small piece of paper on which my and Jason's names were crossed out.

Normally, you would use two candels with a connected wick to break a love spell, but Jason didn't know that.

I threw the note into the bowl and watched it burn. The tea left a sickeningly sweet smell, but the light breeze made it disappear quickly.

I waited patiently for the flames to recede and then grabbed the ashes to let them blow away with the breeze for show.

Jason watched everything with eagle eyes, but actually seemed a little calmer with Father Mitchel at his side.

I got up from my cross-legged position and lifted the bowl. A pretty little thing.

I put it in Father Mitchel's hand. He nodded at me with a smile. "If you ever think about it, the church is always open to you."

"That... That's very nice. Thank you."

"Well then. Accounting is waiting." He sighed and walked back around the building.

Jason looked at me appraisingly. I let him.

"Can you at least take me home now? I don't have any money for the bus."

He struggled with himself, but then motioned for me to follow him.

The journey was calm. Tense, but calm.

I quickly squeezed out of the car when we arrived at my house. "Thank you. Bye.", I mumbled and disappeared into the house as quickly as I could.

Hopefully, this haunting was finally over.

POV Jason

She kissed me so tenderly. Her arms were wrapped around my neck. Her body was warm as it pressed against mine. I could feel her breasts through both our shirts. I enjoyed her hands in my hair. I stroked her ribs. She giggled slightly. Bit my lower lip playfully. I laughed. I felt bliss. I felt light. Here in this meadow, lying on a scratchy picnic blanket, with her in my arms. She kissed the tip of my nose. She ran her thumb over my cheeks.

"I love you.", I murmured and gently kissed the diamond ring on her ring finger.

I woke up suddenly. Annoyed, I hit the alarm clock and buried myself under the thick comforter again. Still slightly foggy, I tried to fall back asleep and continue dreaming where I had left off. I wanted to go back to the meadow and (Y/n)-

I stiffened up. No. No. No!

Why another dream like this? I curled up under the blanket and pressed my hands against my forehead. I tried to push these wishes out of my brain.

But she had dissolved the spell. Father Mitchel was there. That couldn't be. It couldn't be.

I wanted to be normal again.

POV (Y/n)

I sat on my favorite table in the woods and looked thoughtfully at my tarot cards. The lovers had been extremely persistent in my last readings. I threw all the cards back on the pile and shuffled them vigorously. That didn't make any sense. I haven't really felt it anyway.

I shuffled and suddenly one of the cards flew out of the pile. I turned it over and sighed in surrender. The fool glared at me maliciously. "All right. I get it.", I growled annoyed and put the cards on the table.

I heard it crack behind me. I quickly jumped up and looked around.

God no.

"Jason?"

He didn't say anything, just sat down at the table. He looked tired. Listlessly, he threw his backpack in front of him and lay down on it. But he kept his eyes on me. His eyes wandered to the cards on the table. Strangely, he didn't react.

I didn't say anything. I didn't move.

"What do you want here?"

He was still looking at the cards and reached for one that had clearly slipped out of the deck. When he threw it back down, annoyed, I saw the lovers again.

"I give up.", he mumbled. His voice was low and raspy.

I hesitantly sat down next to him. "What are you giving up on?"

"It didn't work... The voodoo from yesterday."

How could it? It was just for show. I sighed anyway. I had somehow hoped that maybe it would influence him enough to finally put his mind at rest.

"Go on, then. Do what you want.", he grumbled.

I furrowed my eyebrows in irritation. "What?"

"You wanted me. Go on."

I breathed in and out in a controlled manner to control my anger. "Jason.", I groaned, annoyed.

He looked at me devotedly. I rubbed my hands over my face. "Okay. How about you pray?"

He sat up. "You want me to beg you too?"

I rolled my eyes. "To your god, you idiot."

He faltered. "Why?"

"Can't you ask him what's right and what's not? Ask him for the truth."

He faltered. His eyes screamed with confusion.

"Come on," I groaned and put my cards away. "I'll even clean up."

He sat up straighter. Watched me. "All right.", he murmured. His hands pushed together almost cautiously. He rested his elbows on the tabletop and gave me another quick glance. "No games.", he ordered.

I held my hands up in the air defensively.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his hands. It seemed so... antiquated. The way he sat there mumbling to himself. The way he held his hands. It all looked so ancient.

I went about my own thoughts until I suddenly heard him sobbing.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts. Jason was still in his prayer position but I heard him turn up his nose.

His hands separated and immediately ran over his face. I quickly looked in my backpack and grabbed the small pack of tissues.

"Here." I held them out to him.

He grabbed it without a word and wiped his tears away, blew his nose loudly and then threw it on the table.

"Jason." I was practically whispering. As if every loud noise would destroy the world.

He just shook his head. "You're not supposed to say my name.", he replied just as quietly.

"Then what am I supposed to call you?"

He wiped away another tear. Silently, he looked at the tabletop.

"Why do you hate me so much?" I asked.

He grimaced. "I think we both know that the opposite is the problem."

I shook my head. "No, you're conflicted. You hate the... Interest in me."

He sighed and reached for another tissue. "Why do you have to be a witch?"

I smirked. "That's it?"

"You go against everything I believe in.", he pressed out.

I sighed. "How about you pay your debt?"

He looked at me, confused. "What kind of debt?"

"You dragged me to your priest and now you're meeting one of my friends. Don't worry. She's a Christian... And a witch."

He laughed dismissively. "No such thing."

I held out my hand to him. "Let's make a bet, then."

He hesitated. "What bet?"

I thought about it for a moment. "If I win, you stop putting the basketballtaining on the Hellfire meetings."

Jason's jaw tightened. He reached for my hand. "If I win, you come to the service with me. For a month."

"Deal.", I grinned.

"Deal.", he bit back.

"Here?" Jason asked incredulously as he brought the car to a halt.

My friend's house was a simple terraced house. A small front garden with flower beds and a bright yellow façade.

I just nodded. "Yup. This is where she lives." I got out and waited for him to do the same. We walked down the small driveway and Jason eyed the cross on the thermometer next to the door.

It opened and my friend Jannice emerged. She was in her mid-thirties and, as always, a bit over the top.

"(Y/n)!", she shouted happily.

"Hey Jan.", I laughed and let myself be pulled into a hug.

"You haven't been around for far too long. You really need to make me some of that lavender oil again. I've just dried some. You can take it with you right away. Uh! Who have we got here? Let me look at you!" She hugged Jason, who was completely taken by surprise and just stood there.

"I can't believe you're fishing for such a tasty treat. I would have bet on the curly head with the puppy eyes..."

"Jan, we're not a couple.", I quickly interrupted her.

"Oh... Oh well." She brushed one of her wild curls out of her face. "Well, come in."

We entered the house and went into the kitchen, which, as always, smelled wonderfully of all kinds of flowers and herbs.

Jason stopped in the doorway and looked at a small table with a cross and a candle on it. He looked at them closely. The candle was bright pink. Definitely not a candle that was available at the service.

He turned back to us. "(Y/n) says you are a Christian.", he said clumsily, but Jannice just smiled again.

"Yes, that's right."

"And she says you're a... witch."

She put a tin of cookies on the table. "Yes. That's true, too."

Jason looked at her suspiciously. "But that can't work."

Jabnice laughed. "Oh boy. Have a seat. Eat a cookie and then I'll explain everything you want."

Jason still sat stiffly on a chair. "What's in the candle?", he began and Jannice started.

"But there are rules!" Jason huffed.

Jannice nibbled on a cookie. "I live by the rule of being a good person. How many more rules do you need? Treat your fellow human beings with love and helpfulness."

Jason put his coffee cup down firmly on the table. "But then everyone can do what they want!"

"If the law was repealed tomorrow that killing someone was illegal, would you do it?"

"Of course not!"

"And yet there are people who do it despite the law." She poked Jason's chest with her finger. "Because our ethics aren't always governed by rules."

She leaned back in her chair. "Why do you want to understand it, if you're so sure of your religious interpretation?"

Jason faltered.

They were a mismatched pair. So different and yet so similar.

"Jason wants to broaden his horizons a little.", I interjected.

Jannice eyed him. "To broaden your horizons, your heart has to be open."

Jason sighed. "Open heart. I just don't get it!", he huffed.

Jannice put a hand on his shoulder. "Your head doesn't understand or your heart?"

Jason gave her a pained look. "What's the difference?"

She smiled gently at him, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Because your head only tells you what you've learned. Your heart tells you what you've always known."

Jason's eyes sparkled treacherously wet again, but he blinked bravely.

Jannice's gaze showed understanding. "You were never really allowed to ask questions."

Jason shook his head. "There were rules."

She nodded. "Well. I listen to every question. My door is always open."

Jason didn't respond. Just grabbed another lavender cookie.

He stayed silent for a long time on the drive back. "I really want to understand this," he whispered.

Even though I didn't know what had happened to him, I had seen that something inside him had been shaken awake. Something that he had put to sleep was stretching and trying to understand why it hadn't been allowed to go through all those years.

"These things take time," I replied calmly.

Jason nodded. "Should I apologize?"

I grinned. "What does your gut say?"

He shook his head, annoyed. "I thought we were focusing on the heart."

I laughed lightly. "Everyone gets their knowledge from somewhere else."

He was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry." His eyes shot to me very briefly.

I bit my lip. "It's okay."

"And now what?" Eddie asked me as we lay on the roof of the trailer and looked up at the sky.

I shrugged my shoulders, even though he couldn't see that. "I don't know."

He sighed. "Do you think he'll shut up now?"

I had to smile. "I think it's more likely that things are just starting now. You should have seen them." I let the thought slip away and the confusion of the last few days settled over me. "This is all so absurd.", I muttered.

Eddie laughed. "I still can't believe he thought you put a spell on him."

I sighed. "Why wouldn't he? I'm not exactly his typ."

Eddie nudged me. "Of course you're not. They're completely hollow."

I shook my head. A sad smile spread across my face. "Can you play my best girl-friend for a minute?"

"Shall I get the nail polish?"

I punched him lightly.

"Sure.", he grinned.

I closed my eyes in surrender to make it easier. "It was so far-fetched, that he could really have a crush on me, that he thought I'd jinxed him Eddie.... That's... Why is it so far-fetched to have a crush on me?"

He patted my shoulder. "I'm sticking to the fact, that they're hollow."

I continued to gaze at the stars and fell silent. How could you treat someone you had a crush on with such disgust?

"What's going to happen with him now?" Eddie had turned his head towards me and was looking at me questioningly.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, he understood that he thinks you're hot and now what?" He twirled his rings. "Are you going out? Are we still seeing each other? Do I have to find another club witch because you're hanging out with the cool kids now?"

I looked at him, confused. "We're not going out.", I blurted out. "We're just... I don't know. There's a truce?"

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "He fancies you (Y/n).", he said forcefully. "We know that now. How do you feel about him?"

I looked at him dully. "I've never thought about it.", I confessed. "Don't look at me like that! I was waiting for the funeral pyre."

Eddie shook his head in amusement. "I don't believe I'm saying this, but you two seem to be perfect for each other."

I nudged him roughly. "That's not funny!"

"Yes it is."

I pouted.

"So. How do you feel about him? Tell your best friend."

I rubbed my face. "I don't know. He... I mean he hasn't exactly been nice over the last few months." I listened to the rustling of leaves around us. "Can you like someone you're supposed to hate?"

"If we asked Jason, he'd say yes. Come on. What do you think of the Bible boy, non-judgmentally."

I sighed. "It's not that simple.... I mean... I don't know... He seems ambitious?"

"Very romantic." Eddie nodded, playing serious.

I groaned in annoyance. "He's probably quite good looking."

A grin appeared on his face.

"But I don't understand how he can dress like that.", I grumbled

Eddie continued to grin. "I knew you had a thing for Andrew!"

"Andrew?"

"Breakfast Club... Jock Andrew."

I blushed. "Shut up."

Eddie chuckled. "Would the basketball shorts on Jason be more your thing?"

"I told you to shut up."

"Oh, no. I'm going to enjoy this. Besides, he's definitely dreaming about banging you. So you can let it all out."

"He doesn't." I blurted out immediately.

Eddie couldn't stop laughing. "He has a cock and he likes you. He definitely dreams about you two fucking."

I gave him a petulant look. "You really are a catty best friend."

"And I love you very much."

"But... You could curse someone?", Jason asked me hesitantly.

We were sitting at the table in the woods again. As usual, Jason had come to me like a ghost and then started asking questions.

"I could probably try it. No idea if it would even work. Anyway. It's not my thing."

Jason looked very thoughtful as usual. "Why are you so insistent on only doing good?"

His blue eyes looked confused. "You could and you don't think anyone will punish you for it. Why don't you?"

"I never said I wouldn't be punished for it.", I objected.

He played with the zipper on his backpack. "And who's punishing you?"

"Karma.", I said simply. "Everything you send out comes back to you threefold."

"Hm."

He was silent for a moment. Let it sink in. "Okay."

Meanwhile, I sat in my seat and couldn't get the conversation with Eddie out of my head. Somehow the fact that Jason had admitted to having a crush on me had made it real. Did he really dream about me? Did I want him to dream about me? My ego wanted it, but did I want it?

I sighed without realizing it.

Jason looked at me questioningly. I waved him off. He looked thoughtfully at the table again. "Is there a spell to get rid of feelings?", he asked quietly.

I looked at him, irritated. "What?"

He rubbed his forehead. "I don't know which synapse has locked onto you, but we both know that there's no future in this. Apart from the fact that I very much doubt by now that you want anything from me." He stood up angrily. "So please. Do something and set me free."

I felt the anger boiling up inside me. First mixed with shame, then all the clearer and stronger.

"Set you free? I'm sorry that your limbic system isn't playing along with your image planning. I'm sorry that it's so disgusting to have a crush on me that you even have to assume you've been cursed. I'm sorry, Carver", I bit out his name, "that I'm not good enough."

I could feel the heat in my cheeks. "But you could at least have the decency not to throw that in my face every time you see me!"

I grabbed my backpack gruffly, which unfortunately only caused my tarot cards to fall out and scatter across the forest floor.

Jason just looked at me dully. A gust of wind hit me in the back and blew the last card away.

Jason bent down for it and held it out to me unseen.

I tryed hard not to crumple it up. The damn lovers. I breathed in and out in a controlled manner.

"I'm sorry-"

"Save it." I interrupted him immediately. I held my hands in front of me defensively. "Just let it go." I put the card with the others and zipped up the backpack.

The wind picked up, but I paid it no mind. I just kept going, no matter how hard the wind tore at me. How could the weather change so quickly?

"Now wait!" Jason called after me. "You can't walk through the forest in a storm like this. Let me drive you."

"No!"

I felt a hand around my upper arm, yanking me backwards. I heard a loud crack. A rumble of thunder rolled through the forest. The ground vibrated.

Jason had held me protectively against him. It was only when I managed to free myself that I saw his shocked face. When I turned around, I saw it.

A not exactly delicate branch was lying right where I was about to go. That thing would have easily broken every bone in my body.

As soon as I'd gotten over the situation, the wind died down, but only a little.

"Come on," Jason said and pulled me along with him. His hands were firmly on my shoulders and he swiftly escorted me to his car.

I stayed still for the rest of the journey. Jason had thrown his jacket on me because he had decided I would definitely be cold. The radio was switched off because it had started raining halfway and the signal was gone.

I hated that Jason's jacket smelled good. He wasn't supposed to smell good. He wasn't supposed to look good. His stupid upper arms shouldn't be so attractive.

Pouting, I averted my eyes.

"I can't see anything.", Jason grumbled loud enough to drown out the pattering of the rain. I didn't look at him. But then I felt the car stop.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't see five feet far. We have to wait for the rain to stop.", he explained defensively. I groaned in annoyance and rolled my eyes. Great. Still sulking, I crossed my arms and sank further into the seat.

He did the same. His upper arms stretched his shirt. I shook my head to get rid of the thought.

"I'm sorry, but you have to admit that I don't really fit into your life either.", he grumbled at me from the side.

I grit my teeth. "You know what? Maybe things would have been different, if you hadn't spent the last few months making my life a living hell.", I spat at him.

He looked back just as angrily. "And I'm sorry! God knows I'm trying to understand, but I can't change the past!"

"Where did your sudden interest in me come from anyway? Heh? How can you be so divided in your desires?"

His hands were clenched into fists. "Because not everyone can be who they want to be!", he shouted. "Because I can't like everyone! Because I can't just feel the way I want to!", he continued to shout, looking at me angrily. "Do you think I care what you do with your herbs? Do you think I want to be like that? I don't want to! I want to be normal, but I can't!" He breathed heavily and narrowed his eyes. "There were always rules. I was NEVER allowed to question them. I wasn't allowed to play with everyone. I wasn't allowed to be friends with everyone.... And I wasn't allowed to fall in love with everyone." He took a deep breath. "And people look... They talk when you don't do what they expect you to do." He looked stubbornly at the steering wheel. He continued to speak so quietly that I almost didn't hear him over the rain. "I'm not supposed to like you. I do... I do, but I'm not allowed to... Not until I... Before I... Before I've moved away and have a life for myself. Before I can... can be new."

And that's when a light went on. The fool. New. "Those were your cards!", I blurted out before I could hold it back.

"Wh-what?" He looked at me, snapped out of his emotions.

I rummaged for my little notebook. "I've been drawing the same four cards over and over again for weeks.", I explained. "The ten of wands. You suppress your feelings and desires and thus prevent yourself from being happy. The lovers. I probably don't need to explain. Then the tower. Tower moments bring down all walls... And the fool. New beginnings... Those were your cards!"

He looked at me, perplexed. "Okay?"

I looked at him insistently. "You... You can't spend your whole life pretending to be someone else!"

He sighed. "Not my whole... Just until... after college... Until I get a job." He closed his eyes. "That's a long time, but... Not forever."

"And then what? Do you just get up one day and become a different person? Ignore all the connections you've made up to that point?", I asked.

I saw the turmoil on his face. "What else am I supposed to do? If it gets out that I have a crush on someone like you, my father will call an exorcist."

I laughed in disbelief.

"I'm not joking! My father... is strict.", he concluded choppily.

I faltered. "How strict?"

He shook his head. I put a hand on his. He exhaled shakily. A tear rolled down his cheek. He didn't wipe it away. The rain continued to pelt down. Shielding us from the outside world.

"I can only really be me in my dreams.", he said more calmly now. "And now you've just snuck in there." He took a deep breath. Seemed to want to calm himself down.

"What am I doing in your dreams?" I asked cautiously.

"You just make me happy," he confessed. "You're there and give me so much affection. I can let myself go. I can laugh and... and... and I know I've ruined any chance of it really being like that." He roughly wiped the next tear from his face. "It drives me insane to wake up every morning and all of this is gone. I have to put that possibility of happiness behind me every morning and pretend that desire doesn't exist."

So that was him. Jason Carver. Behind the speeches and the facade. Behind the perfection and bravado. Broken. Unhappy. Alone.

"Jason.", I whispered.

He shook his head.

"Jason... I understand." I just said. "And... I think I can forgive you... With a little time."

He wiped more tears from his face. I squeezed his hand. "When you're ready, I'd like to meet the real Jason."

"I don't know when that will be.", he confessed.

"I can be very patient. But do me a favor."

He looked at me questioningly.

"No matter when you show the world, please figure out who you want to be by then."

His breath was shaky. "I'll try."

POV Jason

Seven years later

I sat exhilarated at the table of the small café, looking at my watch for the fifth time in two minutes. She probably wasn't coming. God it had been seven years. Seven years since we graduated. Since we only met rarely and secretly in the woods. Seven years since she had kissed me the last time we met. Seven years that I had thought about that kiss again and again, dreamt about it, longed for it. Seven years in which we had only exchanged letters and I had kept them all.

Seven long years in which so much could happen.

Seven years and now she was suddenly standing in front of me again. Grown up and as radiant as ever.

"Hi." She smiled gently at me.

"Hi." I whispered back in awe.

8 years later

She was lying in my bed. She cuddled up to me. It wasn't a dream. It was real. I smelled the scent of her hair. I felt her body against mine. I felt the warmth of her skin. I heard her steady breathing.

I pulled my arms tighter around her naked body and closed my eyes. It was real. We were both real.

9 years later

"Yes. Yes I do!", she smiled at me and euphorically wrapped her arms around me.

I felt a weight fall from my shoulders. She had said yes.

With nervous hands, I put the ring on her finger.

I immediately pulled her into a kiss, unwilling to let her get away again in the near future.

10 years later

I was lying with her in a meadow. The weather was warm but pleasant. The sun danced through the leaves above us.

We kissed lazily. I ran a hand under her shirt and over her ribs. She giggled. Ticklish as she was. She playfully bit my lip. Then kissed me on the tip of my nose. Stroked my cheek. I kissed the ring on her ring finger. "I love you.", I murmured.

She smiled warmly at me. "I love you.", she replied.

I smiled. "I've dreamt about this before.", I whispered.

"And is it as good as your dreams?"

I felt the warmth and bliss inside me and shook my head. "It's better." I kissed her lips softly. "It's real."

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