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munsons-maiden · 2 years

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𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖

I’m so excited about this chapter you have no idea. I hope you enjoy it! - Love, Kiki 🖤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Eddie Munson x female reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | THEN. You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected life line and turns your world upside down. NOW. Four months have passed since the winter night you walked out of Eddie’s trailer and his life for good. But when the mysterious headaches and nightmares return full-force and something wicked stirs in sleepy Hawkins, starting a witch hunt against Eddie, you realize that there are two things in this world that might be more persistent than you’d thought: Evil…and love. The story is told in two timelines: the past (after the Battle of Starcourt) and the present (during the events of season 4).

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut, it turned into a fix it fic for ST4

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (you need to be 18+ to read this story!), angst with a happy ending, attempted assault, bullying, canon-typical violence

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | ~19 k (it’s easy to split the reading into chunks if you like)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | allusions to SMUT (only read if you’re 18+ years old! virgin!Eddie x virgin!reader), mentions of attempted assault, canon-typical gore & violence, blood, mentions of spiders (but no description)

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖

[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.]

The winter Nancy, Barb and you had been ten years old, your favorite fairy tale had been The Snow Queen.

There had been something about this story, of these two star-crossed childhood sweethearts, torn apart by a frozen heart; of the kind of love that made a girl venture out into the deepest, darkest winter to save her beloved.

You’d taken turns in who would get to be the Snow Queen, who’d get to be the girl who was a hero and who the boy who needed saving from the freezing darkness placed in his heart – and one especially cold day in late December, the three of you had went ice skating on the frozen surface of Lover’s Lake to enact the fairy tale in a matching scenery.

You couldn’t remember who’d gotten to play whom that day – but you remembered, as vivid as if had been yesterday, how, enraptured in the game, you’d ventured farther and farther out onto the lake, waving your arms and laughing while Nancy and Barb had cried out for you to come back, that it wasn’t save to leave the edges of the lake near the shore where the ice was much thicker.

And you vividly remembered the sound of the ice cracking beneath your skates when it had given in.

How you’d been plunged into the freezing waters of Lover’s Lake.

You remembered your muscles succumbing to the cold as the water soaked your coat, your sweater, bit into your skin and froze your muscles, knocked the air from your lungs as darkness engulfed you and your arms flailed in a failing attempt to fight against the pull of the drowning dark dragging you down, farther and farther away from the splotches of light falling through the frozen surface as you sunk towards the bottom of the lake, the panic dying in your chest as your mind and body went numb.

It felt like that right now.

Numbing and freezing as you were being dragged down into the abyss of the realization of what you’d done.

You’d opened the door for Vecna.

He’d tricked you, had been tricking you, playing his sick little mind games until he’d found your weak spot, the one thing you’d do everything to save. Eddie. And no matter how accidental it had been…you’d let Vecna in. Opened the door wide for him to step through.

You had never been his first victim after all.

You’d been his puppet.

Chrissy.

Fred.

Patrick.

Max.

Eddie.

It was your fault.

It was all your fault that they were dead, that Max was still marked with Vecna’s curse and Eddie’s life was in shards, forced on the run because Hawkins was hunting him –

The forest was spinning around you, the stained-glass roses of Max’s painting swimming in front of your eyes, dark swirls in the sparse moonlight when another thought settled in your mind, on your heart.

All this time…you’d thought these visions you’d been having ever since Starcourt, the black veins creeping over your body, writhing beneath your skin like vines; the hollow eyes and evil smiles of your reflections in a mirror…you’d hoped it had been an aftereffect of being possessed, of being the Mind Flayer’s puppet, a stain the monster had left behind in the same way Will Byers was still connected to the Upside Down and its monsters.

But knowing what you knew now, knowing not the Mind Flayer but Vecna had sent these visions, the headaches and nosebleeds and nightmares, the gruesome images…

What if Vecna had never taunted you with your past – but had painted a picture of your future?

It all happened in the fragment of a second.

As Steve stepped towards you to take a look at Max’s painting in your hands, your fingers crumpling the edges of the paper, your eyes snapped up to meet Eddie’s. He was still awkwardly standing beside the moldy mattress you’d patched him up on, where you’d kissed only moments ago while you’d still been blissfully unaware of what you’d done, that it was your fault -

You could feel your legs give in underneath the weight of all these realizations.

But before your knees could hit the carpet of dried leaves covering the forest floor…the ground jerked.

And with the low rumble of distant thunder filling the air, you were thrown off your feet, against Steve, his arms shooting out to catch your fall as your startled yelps rang out over the clearing and the air was knocked out of your friend’s lungs as the two of you tumbled to the forest floor in a tangle of limbs.

For a few shaken heartbeats, you stayed like this, your spine pressed against Steve’s chest, the back of your head resting against his shoulder, one of his arms locked around you to hold you against him and his panting breaths stirring your hair as the last vibrations in the ground faded and the earth beneath you stilled again.

“Holy shit,” Eddie blurted, his voice breaking the shaken silence which had settled over the clearing. “Jesus Christ.”

“Everyone okay?”, Steve’s distressed voice rang out, rumbling through your own body pressed against him.

“Shit. No,” Eddie retorted as Robin chimed up sarcastically, “Actually, I got really bad seasonal allergies today, and it’s been much worse ever since we entered the woods.”

You raised your head a little to take a look at the others, eyes searching Eddie’s. He’d landed on the filthy mattress, having caught himself on one elbow, features contorted in pain at the movement and his gaze darkening as he met yours, still in Steve’s arms on the ground as all of you seemed to process what had just happened.

“I’m unsteady enough as it is,” Robin squeaked, drawing your attention to where she was slowly sitting up, “I really can’t deal with more stress right now, I really, really can’t and earthquakes are, like, a ten out of ten on the please-not-today-scale.”

She’d tumbled into Max, Lucas and Dustin like a bowling ball landing a strike, and your heart squeezed in your chest as you noticed Lucas checking Max’s Walkman, clipped to a belt loop on her jeans, before letting out a relieved exhale when he saw it was still intact.

“Was that an earthquake?!”, Steve’s called out, followed by Dustin’s semi-annoyed, “We’re in Hawkins, Indiana, Steve. There are no earthquakes in Indiana.”

“Who says that?”

“Science.”

“Yeah? Well, there are no monsters either and yet we’re planning on following a broken compass to a gate into a parallel dimension to find the one that keeps slaughtering random teens in their minds for some reason,” Steve shot back as he let go of you and scrambled to his feet. “What does your science say about that, huh, Henderson?”

“That there are no earthquakes in Indiana,” Dustin retorted while Steve let go of you and scrambled to his feet, “The existence of monsters doesn’t correlate with tectonic plate movements.”

“You know what correlates with getting to a secret hidden gate to another dimension, Henderson?”, Steve shot back indignantly, “Moving our asses to get there. Yeah, I know what correlating means, you can stop pulling that face.”

And while all the others were busy brushing the dirt and leaves off of their clothes and hair, voices rising into a cacophony as everyone started to talk all at once about whatever the Hell had just happened, you stared at the stained-glass roses of Max’s painting, half expecting for them to grow out of the paper, for the strokes of crimson crayon to turn into petals, the stems to come alive, to grow into thorny creeping vines ensnaring you, biting your skin and drawing blood as they entangled you further and further in this web of secrets and lies.

But it wasn’t the roses ensnaring you.

This web was of your own making, its tangled vines nourished with every little lie, spun with every omission of the truth.

Over Steve’s shoulder, your eyes met Eddie’s.

He looked ruffled, his half-dried mess of curls tousled where your fingers had raked through his hair as you’d kissed him – a kiss that was still burning on your lips even now, the ghost of the sensation of Eddie’s lips on yours lingering like the sparks in your nerves. He looked like he had that night, when he’d glanced down at you between breathless kisses in front of the backdrop of a glittering night sky.

And you couldn’t help but wonder…what would have happened in the cover of the rocks only moments ago if you hadn’t been interrupted?

Eddie’s expression was timid, searching, as he turned away to follow Robin and Dustin down the path back towards the lake, the path the two of you had stumbled along what couldn’t have been more than an hour ago.

The limp in his gait made your heart bleed for him, fresh anger blazing through you at the memory of Andy slamming the crowbar into Eddie’s knee to stop him from attacking Jason. Because that’s what Eddie would have done to keep you out of harm’s way.

While you had brought harm right to his front door.

Everything you’d done, you’d done to keep him safe. And yet, you’d done nothing but drag him deeper into this abyss of chaos alongside you.

All you wanted was to curl up on the dried leaves covering the forest floor and scream and weep and make it pass. But it wouldn’t pass. It would never pass.

And there was no time to break down now because time was running out; you needed to find the gate and above all else you needed to get Eddie out of these woods and into a new, safer hideout before the cops would flood the lakeside like a swarm of flies buzzing around a rotting corpse in their search for him.

Stripped down to the core, it was a simple equation with three unknown variables.

First, there was your possession, and whatever connection it had established between you and the Upside Down, the Mind Flayer – a connection not unlike the one Will still had to this godforsaken realm, you figured.

The second one was the fact that you’d obviously started burning down buildings with your mind.

And the third was your apparent connection to Vecna himself, and how it had allowed him to enter Hawkins.

You needed to figure out what was happening.

And you needed to do it fast.

Because if Vecna had depended on your help to get through that door, to get in…maybe you could be the one who could shut him out again.

Lock that fucking door back up.

And burn the key.

Before he could hurt anyone else. And above all – before he could keep the promise he’d sent you that November night and hurt the boy you loved with all your heart.

Vecna could torment you, haunt you, hurt you…but you would make him pay for what he’d done to Eddie.

No matter the cost.

***

Following the others down the hiking trail, their words and bickering and conversations blurring into static at the edges of your perception, you knew Dustin had been right. And you didn’t even need to inquire about the status of his compass.

Because with every step you took towards Lover’s Lake…you could feel it.

A rip in the fabric between worlds, a festering wound oozing rot and decay and darkness, spreading the way they stain on your own soul was still spreading. A rip sending its horrid pulse into the night, through you, a dark heartbeat echoing yours as it kept drawing you closer like the haunting, twisted serenade of a siren calling you away from the safety of the shore.

It grew stronger with each step you took towards the water, its calm surface sparkling in the pale glow of the moon.

You’d felt it once before, this violent, dark tug.

On a freezing November night, beneath the glittering light of a myriad of stars; the night you’d first seen the door with its stained-glass roses.

Right before you’d kissed Eddie for the first time.

Right before everything had burned to cinders.

And while everything in you screamed to stay away, to run and never look back at the glittering surface of Lover’s Lake, bring as much distance between yourself and the thing you’d find at the bottom of that lake…there was a tiny, twisted part of you that wanted to go there.

That longed to heed this dark call beckoning you forwards, coaxing your steps away from your friends and towards the darkness in the deep.

Come find me, this dark whisper seemed to croon. Come home.

Home.

You felt like you would fall to the grass and retch any second as your gaze, transfixed on the lake, swam with unshed tears.

Home.

Not yours, but the home of that sliver of darkness nestling in your heart, the one which had stayed behind when the Mind Flayer had left.

It was overpowering now, guiding your steps towards the lake’s edge, your mind and body spellbound as your muscles obeyed the lure of the dark call resonating through you, making you follow the steps of a slow ragdoll dance to its eerie song, the glittering moonlight playing on the waves like all the stars had tumbled from the skies –

“Whoa, careful!”, a soft exclamation ripped you out of this trance as a hand shot out to grab your arm to stop you mid-movement, and with horror growing in your guts like a tangle of weeds, your gaze snapped down.

To your left foot, the tip of your shoe grazing the water’s surface, Eddie’s firm grip on your arm the one thing that kept your balance. Kept you from walking straight into the lake.

With a sharp inhale of shock, you let him pull you back, gently but firmly, every thud of your pulse like a clap of thunder in your ears as you whirled around to come face to face with Eddie, his hand falling away from your arm.

“Sorry. Just…uh. I thought you were –“ He paused, tilting his head with a confused frown.

You whipped back around to face the lake, chest rising and falling rapidly with every shallow breath.

This overpowering draw of the lake …it hadn’t been there when you and Eddie had left the lake not even two hours ago.

What was happening with you?

“You okay, monster slayer?”

And the words Eddie had whispered to you, had breathed against your lips right before he’d kissed you so gently and so fiercely only moments ago on that stained mattress in the cover of Skull Rock and the darkness of the spring night, echoed through your mind.

“No more lies. Tell me the truth, or nothing at all. But no more lies. Please.”

“What if I’m not a monster slayer.” Your voice was the ghost of a whisper, a susurration in the spring night air, and Eddie narrowed his eyes in growing confusion.

What if I’m a monster, instead?

You needed to tell Eddie about what you’d seen that November night.

What you’d done only days ago in a dream that hadn’t been a dream.

He deserved the truth.

All of it. About that Night, about last summer, all the ugly truths you’d kept from him – and they would be enough to snuff out every last dreg of whatever it was Eddie still felt for you. They’d drive him away from you, away from the Upside Down and your connection to it, out of harm’s way.

He would stay alive, and he would be free of the ghost of you he still kept clinging to despite all your efforts to break his heart thoroughly enough for him to hate you. Free to move on, to find someone who deserved all of his sweetness, all of his kindness, all of his love.

Eddie deserved to know the truth.

So did Max.

They all did.

Tell him, that voice inside you urged, tell him now.

“Eddie –“

“She’s been telling you she was fine the last five times you asked,” Steve muttered under his breath as he came up beside you, his eyes on Eddie. And the chance had passed, the courage deserted you again.

“Maybe she’s just annoyed by continuously being asked whether she’s okay,” Steve added.

Before you could muster a reply, Robin swooped in to save the day, throwing one arm around Steve’s shoulder before she gave you a wide conspirational grin and drawled, “The tension’s spiking tonight, huh, dingus? It’s not even a full moon. You could channel all that alpha male energy into putting the boat to water so our tender female hands won’t break a fingernail.”

Steve looked as if he wanted to protest but seemed to decide against it when he let Robin steer him away, and Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…forget that kiss, okay?” It sounded hurt. So incredibly hurt and sad.

And you realized that Eddie believed your shellshocked reaction was rooted in the kiss you’d shared at Skull Rock – and that you were keeping your distance now because you regretted it.

You did.

Because kissing Eddie had been wrong. It meant you kept stringing him along when you knew there was no future ahead, that the two of you were still worlds apart from each other. No matter how right it had felt to kiss him. No matter how everything in you kept screaming to run into his arms and do it again, kiss him until you were both breathless and dizzy and the world was nothing but a blur of colors around you.

“I get it,” he added quietly, “Heat of the moment and all that shit, so I promise I won’t –“

“I’m scared.” It was less than a whisper, your voice choked with tears.

Something is happening with me. Something has been happening since Starcourt and it’s getting worse and I’m scared out of my mind because I’m dragging you down with me and everything I do to make it stop makes it worse and I’m terrified of what will happen when I get a single step closer to that gate in the lake because there’s a tiny, twisted part in me that wants to go there. So, so bad.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Eddie replied with a soft murmur, “Like, I think it would be pretty weird if you weren’t.”

I’m scared of myself.

“I can’t…” You took a shaky breath to steady yourself. “I can’t get any closer to whatever is in that lake.”

Understanding flashed in Eddie’s eyes.

“You don’t have to,” he soothed, “There’s no shame in running, remember?”

“Hey, you two!”, Steve’s voice cut through the air, “You coming or what?!”

Annoyance flashed in Eddie’s expression at the sound of Steve’s voice, before he gave you a reassuring smirk and instructed, “Stay there, ‘kay?”

He looked as if he wanted to take your hand, pat your shoulder, anything, but decided against it as he turned and half-trotted, half-limped towards the spot where Steve was standing beside the boat the two of you had dragged to shore earlier, his hands on his hips to make him look like an angry dad at a football game scolding his kid.

For a moment, you just watched Eddie help Steve push the boat back into water.

“Easy,” Steve muttered, nearly falling forwards as the boat hit the surface of Lover’s Lake, “Hey, hey, I said easy!”

“Sorry,” Eddie muttered indignantly, “Might be my cracked rib acting up.”

“We all got beaten up from time to time,” Steve mumbled, and Eddie tilted his head with sardonic smirk before he drawled, “Can’t imagine why anyone would ever want to punch you, Harrington.”

Steve looked as if he were contemplating adding another bruise to the collection on Eddie’s face while Eddie’s gaze flitted down to the edge of the shore where the grass ended in a little plunge to the water right in front of Steve’s feet, and for a split second, you were pretty sure he was considering giving Steve an accidental push.

“The last time I saw Steve that tense,” Robin mused, coming to stand beside you again to watch Steve and Eddie ready the boat, “We were locked up in a secret Russian underground lab.”

There was the soft crunch of footsteps as Nancy joined the two of you, giving you one of her little Wheeler-signature-smirks. “We should separate them before they start drowning each other.”

Robin snorted, and Nancy’s face turned serious again as she turned to you. “I’m sorry we weren’t fast enough to help with Jason.”

“You were investigating a haunted house. Cut yourself some slack.”

“Eddie looks horrible,” Nancy stated, watching him wince as he straightened himself, one hand shooting to the spot on his ribs, where the black bruise was blooming underneath the fabric of his Hellfire shirt, drawing a pained flinch of your own before Robin quipped, “He looks like Y/N hit him with her car again.”

Had they noticed that there was something wrong with you yet? Was that why they were trying to distract you?

A wave of affection flooded you as you glanced at the two girls you were so lucky to call your friends.

“You won’t let it slide, huh?”, you said, allowing yourself to join their bantering. There would be time to finally tell them the truth. As soon as you found proof for the gate in the lake, you would tell them.

Robin gave you a sardonic grin. “No way. I’ll milk that until the rest of eternity. He looks a little ruffled as well, by the way.”

Nancy threw you a curious sideways glance, your cheeks already heating up with Robins words as you said, “He got beaten up by an angry mob. You’d look ruffled, too.”

Already sauntering towards Steve and Eddie and the boat, Robin gave you a wink over her shoulder as she drawled, “You know that Skull Rock, is, like, a super popular make-out spot, right?”

Nancy and you watched Robin climbed the boat Eddie and Steve had managed to push back into the water, placing her hand on Eddie’s head for balance as he knelt on the ground, grabbing the ledge of the boat to steady it for Robin.

Your heart squeezed as you watched him. The tousled mane of dark curls, ink-black in the sparse light of the moon falling in his face as he patiently waited for your friend to tiptoe her way to the boat’s front.

“Have you been able to reach Jonathan?”, you asked Nancy, your eyes still trained on Eddie.

It took her a moment to reply. “It seems like he’s…I don’t know, blown up his phone. I had a feeling he was avoiding me, but this is odd even for him.”

When you tore your gaze away from Eddie, to follow Nancy’s line of sight instead, you noticed she was looking at Steve, who was still caught in his futile attempt to get the boat’s motor to work.

There was a spark of longing in your her hazel eyes.

“Do you ever wonder…about the what-if?”, you said quietly, cautiously.

Nancy chewed her lip, contemplating your words. “Sometimes. Most of the time it just…passes.”

“And in the moments where it doesn’t?” You couldn’t help yourself. Your gaze was drawn back to Eddie, who was slowly rising back to his feet, dusting off his ripped jeans before he climbed into the boat after Robin. His movements were careful, betraying the pain every motion was causing him, and one of his hands shot up to rake through his bangs as he slowly sat down, his eyes trained on Steve, who was fumbling with the string of the boat’s motor.

“It always passes for me,” Nancy said beside you, her voice growing hesitant. “I think most of the time people’s paths cross again, it’s because of circumstance and coincidence. But I believe that sometimes, in a few rare cases, they cross again because they never should have parted in the first place.”

As if he could feel you watching him, Eddie lifted his head to meet your eyes.

The way the moonlight painted pale streaks of silver into his messy dark curls reminded you of the night on his roof, when he’d whispered all these sweet things to you as he’d made you unravel beneath him.

You’re so beautiful.

I want this to mean something.

Your heart soared at the memory, at the expression in Eddie’s eyes as he held your gaze now, before Nancy’s voice tore your focus back to your friend, her hazel eyes distant as they rested on Steve, “I’m not so sure yet why my path crossed Steve’s again. But I’m certain that the reason for your path crossing Eddie’s again is the latter.”

When she turned her head to meet your startled gaze, there was a knowing smile on her lips. “I’ve known you all my life. Do you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

“There’s nothing to notice.” It was curious, how, once the first lie was spoken, others trailed behind, a neat row of little white lies, strung together like shiny pearls on a necklace.

Nancy’s expression turned stern, the dimples in her cheeks deepening. She was truly the one person in the world who had dimples while frowning. “I’m sorry. For not being there, after Starcourt.”

“You burned that thing out of me, Nance,” you said softly. “I wouldn’t be here without all of you. Without you.”

“I’m talking about the days and weeks and months after that night at the mall.”

“You were struggling with Jonathan moving –“

“That doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t try harder to be there. You never talked about it, so I thought you needed time to deal with it on your own. I should have tried harder to reach you.”

You knew she was thinking about Barb. You could see it in her eyes, the guilt embedded there. After all this time, Nancy still blamed herself for what had happened.

Nancy had always been the tough one. The one who got things done, the one who took charge and asked for forgiveness instead of permission.

It was easy to forget that she wasn’t immune to guilt, or shame. You hadn’t been there that night at Steve’s, with Nancy and Barb. You’d copped out to study for the chemistry test the next day – and there would never be a day in your life where you didn’t wonder if it would have made a difference if you’d come. If Barb would still be here. Just as there would never be a day in Nancy’s life where she didn’t wonder if she could have saved your friend, had she not decided walked up those stairs with Steve.

“That won’t work,” Eddie chimed up in the distance as he watched Steve’s futile attempts to get the motor to run with a mix of curiosity and wariness in his gaze.

“Maybe it didn’t work when you tried,” Steve retorted.

“What are you gonna do, Harrington, flirt with it?”

Steve gave Eddie a contemptuous glance over the motor. “If you’re such a genius with an engine, why don’t you try to get this thing running?”

“I did. It didn’t work. Which is why I know she’s not gonna run for you either.”

“Try slapping it,” Robin chimed in, and Steve smacked the engine with a resounding metallic thud, followed by more silence.

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffed, “Told ya.”

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is,” Nancy went on quietly, drawing your attention away from the bickering in the boat, “The days where you met Eddie for lunchbreak at our old spot in the woods –“

“Wait – you knew?!”

Nancy cocked an eyebrow. “You weren’t subtle. At all. And you were happy. To find someone who makes you so happy, despite everything else going up in flames…some people wait a whole lifetime for this kind of thing and yet never find it. So if you found that with Eddie…you should hold on to him for dear life.”

And with that knowing little smile still on her lips, Nancy walked towards the others, leaving you behind on the shore, her words hanging in the air. When she placed her hand in Eddie’s extended one to help her into the boat with one of his gallant little bows, his gaze met yours over Nancy’s shoulder.

“You coming or what?”, Steve called out to you, startling out of your Eddie-induced trance as Dustin already darted forwards, stopped by Eddie gently pushing him back. “Not you. Sorry, man.”

“But it��s my compass. It’s my goddamn theory!”, Dustin called out. “I won’t just stay behind and wait.”

“Yes, you will,” Nancy replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest, and her tone didn’t leave room for arguments.

Dustin’s voice rose as he protested, “Who put her in charge?!”

“I did,” Robin announced from where she’d hunched at the boat’s front, and Eddie’s eyes travelled to you. “This boat won’t hold a fifth person, anyways,” he said.

You both knew what he was doing.

There’s no shame in running.

The gratitude flooding you was overpowering.

“We could let Eddie swim beside us to solve the four people problem,” Steve muttered, and Eddie threw him a sideways glance before he quipped, “Alternatively, it’ll fit two people and Harrington’s ego.”

The comment drew a barely subtle smirk from Nancy and a not-so-subtle-at-all cackle from Robin while Steve’s gaze turned even gloomier before he turned to Eddie, who gave him the widest, cheekiest grin you’d ever seen on him – a grin that turned radiant to light up the whole spring night as your own soft giggle bubbled from your lips before, patting Dustin’s shoulder and throwing a glance at Max and Lucas who’d sat down in the grass a few feet behind you, you announced, “I’ll stay here. It’s fine.”

With a small nod, Eddie sat down again, taking the second oar to plunge it into the lake and start paddling alongside Robin, nearly hitting Steve’s head in the process.

“Watch it, man.”

Eddie looked as if he was having a hard time to suppress the urge to actually smack Steve with the oar – but instead of the witty clapback you’d anticipated, looking as if he’d swallowed a bunch of rusty nails, he replied, “Sorry, man.”

“Yeah.” Steve’s tone was indignant. “You could have pushed me over.”

“Wouldn’t want the water to ruin your glorious quiff. Who will make all the monsters swoon at our feet if Steeeeve Harrington lost the superpowers of his hair.”

“Well, it won’t be you,” Steve grumbled, “You look like cat left out in the rain.”

He looked as if he wanted to add something, but a single warning glance from Nancy shut him up as Robin gave Eddie a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, and the interaction made you suppress a small laugh as you watched them steer the boat away from the shore.

“Bedtime at nine, kiddos!” Robin called out with an exaggerated wave at the kids and you, her hand smacking the side of Eddie’s head in the process, which he took with quiet resignation before he shuffled a few inches away from Robin, who hadn’t seemed to notice while she rose to her feet, still waving, the whole boat swaying precariously and silent panic sparking in Eddie’s eyes as he shuffled further away out of the range of Robin’s flailing arms as she added, “Miss you already!”

“Try to not get into trouble, okay?”, Steve exclaimed, looking at you across the growing distance.

Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you teased, “Do you think things will go haywire as soon as you’re not the babysitter anymore? I can handle things. Everything’s under control.”

***

It turned out that everything was, in fact, not under control.

“That spiraled pretty quickly,” Max commented, shuffling a little in her place beside you on the backseat of the car. “But hey, I always wanted to drive in a police car. I just always figured it would be Billy next to me on the backseat, not you.”

“Fucking Hell,” you breathed, burying your face in your hands.

It had been a knee-jerk reaction, but…there hadn’t exactly been much time to think this through when the cops had drawn up at the lake, the red-and-blue flashing lights of their cars sending splotches of colors into the night as both you and Max had jumped to divert them – because if the police were focused on you and the three freshmen under your wings, they wouldn’t notice the murder suspect they were hunting, happily taking a midnight boat ride on the site of his last alleged satanic ritualistic killing.

Diverting them had been the sensible decision.

“At least they didn’t handcuff us,” Max announced, and you raised your head to give her a sideways glance.

Chief Powell and Officer Callahan had taken Max and you into their patrol car, while Dustin and Lucas were riding with the other two officers.

“Where are you taking us?”, you spoke up, and Powell cast you a gloomy glance through the rearview mirror before focusing back on the street.

“You know you can’t just take us,” Max added, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You were found at a crime scene,” Callahan shot back.

“We were found at the side of a lake, taking a midnight hike,” you retorted. “There was no police tape to indicate it even was a crime scene.”

“Your parents called us,” Callahan muttered.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “I highly doubt –“

“The other parents.”

“I’m a legal adult,” you protested.

Callahan gave you a gleeful smirk. “That means real jail, not youth detention.” Without Hopper’s presence, Callahan seemed to have become even more of a bitch.

You cocked an eyebrow, “For what? Hiking? Good luck with that.”

Before you could utter more words of protest, though, an idea took roots in your mind.

Maybe, having been grabbed by the police was a good thing.

Because if the cops were busy with you, they needed to postpone their search of the lake and the surrounding woods, which, in return, meant that there would be more time for Nancy, Robin and Steve to find a new hiding place for Eddie who, thanks to Jason, obviously wasn’t in the best of conditions to run away should the need arise.

Max and you had already alerted the cops to your presence to divert them from your friends.

You could keep playing that game, and buy more time for Eddie.

“Max,” you said, loud enough for the two cops to hear, who were still eavesdropping on your conversation on the backseat. What were they thinking? That you’d be dumb enough to talk about Eddie?

The redhead gave you a dubious glance, and you added loudly, “Ugh, I think there’s something in my hair. Leaves, bugs, I don’t know but there’s definitely something there from the bushes we walked through earlier. Can you check, please?”

A spark of understanding flashed in her blue eyes as she groaned, mirroring your loud tone, “Seriously? I don’t want bugs on my hands.”

“Just do it, will you?”

“Fine,” she muttered.

You shuffled a little in your seat, leaning forwards so you’d be hidden from the rearview-mirror’s view while Max shuffled closer as if examining your hair, and you whispered, “We need to buy them more time to search for a new hideout.”

“How?”

“Still figuring it out but these cops are incompetent dumbasses. Should be easy.”

“Let’s put that to the test,” Max whispered, before she let out a blood-curdling scream that made you jump in your seat as Powell started so hard that the car swerved to the left while Max screamed, “THERE’S A SPIDER! A FUCKING FAT SPIDER!”

“TAKE IT OFF OF ME!”, you joined in with a scream of your own as you started to frantically shake off the nonexistent spider, having a hard time to suppress your laugh as you saw Callahan’s eyes widen with alarm in the rearview-mirror.

“I CAN’T FIND IT!”, Max screeched, her voice shrill, “IT’S GONE!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S GONE?! IT WAS FUCKING HUGE!”

“IT FELL OFF! IT’S SOMEWHERE IN HERE!”

“STOP THE CAR!!!”, you screamed.

“YOU ALL NEED TO CALM –“ Chief Powell began, but obviously, Callahan’s own panic had won over any remaining shreds of professionalism he might have possessed as he shouted, “I think it’s on me now! Stop the car, Chief!”

And with an exasperated sigh…Powell hit the brakes, steering the car to a stop at the side of the road as Callahan joined in your and Max’s awkward little dance in your seats to get rid of the imaginary spider.

Had the reason for this little stunt not been to draw the cops away from Eddie, you would have burst into laughter right then and there – and with a fleeting glance at Max, you could tell the redhead was sharing the sentiment.

And when the police car stopped, Callahan jumping out of the passenger’s side like a bat out of Hell with a surprisingly high-pitched screech that pierced the spring night air, your eyes met Max’s cornflower blue one, a thought passing alongside a subtle little smirk between the two of you.

“I think we got a minute to figure out a real plan,” Max whispered with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

It was going to be a long shift for the officers of the Hawkins PD.

[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.

THE UPSIDE DOWN]

Steve knew he should say something.

He’d been watching Eddie for a while now.

The guy was obviously pretty shaken – if from the dive into a parallel dimension or the encounter with those nasty bats he’d helped Nance and Robin save him from, Steve couldn’t tell – and he was limping as he stumbled more than walked, his gaze trained on the ground at his feet as if he expected for it to rip open without warning.

It looked a bit funny, even, how awkwardly Eddie danced around the creepers on the ground ever since Steve had warned him about the place’s hivemind connection.

The guy looked pretty miserable, all in all.

He was still soaked from his second involuntary dive – to save Steve ass – and he had to be tired and hungry and in pain, from the way he was wincing in regular intervals. Albeit it couldn’t hurt half as bad as the sting of these fucking bat bites on Steve’s waist.

He let out a sigh, before he called out, “Eddie? Hey, Eddie!”, breaking into a small sprint to catch up with the metalhead.

Eddie didn’t look too happy about the attention, and Steve suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the wary expression on the other guy’s face.

Yeah, believe it or not, I’m not that fond of you either.

“You good, man?”, he asked, earning him a bewildered sideways glance from Eddie.

Come on, I’m trying to be nice.

“Nope,” Eddie replied tersely. It sounded more stressed out than rude.

“Yeah. Me neither,” Steve uttered. “Thanks for the vest.”

“Wouldn’t want you to be cold,” Eddie deadpanned, and Steve huffed.

“I don’t get cold.”

“Of course,” Eddie quipped, “How could you, with all that chest hair keeping you warm.”

“Well, the ladies dig it.” There was a beat of awkward silence.

“They beat you up good, huh?”, Steve tried again with a curt nod at the freshly stitched up gash in Eddie’s brow, the ghastly bruises already blooming beneath his pale skin.

Eddie’s expression darkened further. “It wasn’t exactly a fair fight.”

Even the way the guy spoke was weird, Steve realized, with this lilting way with which he drew out random words.

Steve pointed at his own forehead, at the fine silver line above his left eyebrow before he said, “You were in good hands, though. She patched me up two years ago with –“

“Dental floss and vodka, yup,” Eddie finished the sentence, focus back on the vines covering the forest floor as he swatted at a lonely white particle settling in his drying curls. “I heard. Billy Hargrove whipped your ass.”

Steve could feel his jaw straining as he gritted his teeth. “I wouldn’t say he whipped my ass.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah.” The awkward silence grew even more awkward, before Steve finally said, tone genuine, “Thank you, by the way.”

Eddie’s head snapped up, his dark gaze scrutinizing as he watched Steve. As if he were waiting for something.

Waiting for Steve to laugh at him, he realized. To mock him.

And with a wave of shame, Steve realized that three years ago…he would’ve done exactly that. Granted, being nice to the weirdos before stabbing the metaphorical knife into their backs had been Tommy and Carol’s domain rather than Steve’s, but he’d been happy to gloat and laugh all the same.

“Thanks for saving my ass back there,” Steve clarified.

“Shit, you saved your own ass, man,” Eddie retorted, and there was a hue of awe in his tone now. “That was a real ozzy move you pulled back there.”

When Steve’s only reply was a confused glance, Eddie quickly added, “Ozzy Osborne? Black Sabbath? He…he took a bite out of that bat on stage? No?”

When Steve kept staring at Eddie with bewilderment, trying to decipher what exactly the guy was even trying to tell him, Eddie looked uncomfortable all of a sudden before he glanced down at his hands, fingers fiddling with the bracelet around his wrist, “Very metal. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Ah…thanks.” That had been a compliment, had it?

“Henderson told me you were a badass,” Eddie went on, somewhat exasperated. “Insisted on the matter, in fact.”

“He did?”

“Shit, yeah. The kid worships you, dude. You have noooo idea. It’s kinda annoying to be honest. I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, but…I do.” He paused, stepping over one of the bigger vines on the ground before he added, “I guess I couldn’t handle the fact that Steve Harrington –“ he did it again, drawing out Steve’s name in this weird little lilt, “Was actually…a good dude. Like, rich parents, super popular, chicks love him…not a douche? No. No way, man. That, like, flies in the face of aaaall the laws in the universe.” He put his hands over his heart as he added with a smirk, “And my own personal Munson Doctrine.”

Steve felt a smile curve his lips. And he realized what Eddie was doing. Putting his cards on the table. Which was brave, Steve had to give him that. Steve had never talked to the guy when they were seniors, but he’d belonged to the popular crowd who’d bullied guys like Eddie.

Eddie was nervous, that much was obvious. He was fiddling with the little chain on the sleeve of his leather jacket now, dark curls spilling over his shoulders and into his face, covering the fresh bruises of his run-in with Jason.

“That’s got to be one of the weirdest days of my goddamn life,” Eddie scoffed, shaking his head, “Taking a hike through a monster-infested parallel dimension with King Steve The Hair Harrington.”

Steve huffed, before he said with a slow smirk, “Well, I didn’t think I’d be trekking through a monster-infested parallel dimension with Eddie The Freak, either.”

Eddie wasn’t quick enough to cover up his flinch at the nickname, and with a pang of guilt, Steve realized he’d been utterly wrong about Eddie Munson.

The way he’d always carried himself, with defiance, the unapologetic way with which he seemed to wear the title of School Freak like he wore those weird clothes…Steve had always assumed Eddie Munson was that aloof, menacing guy who couldn’t care less about people’s opinion – and Steve had envied him for it.

But Eddie, it dawned on Steve, hadn’t tried to earn and nourish that nickname people had given him. He’d simply worn it as a shield. He’d run with it, because…what else could he have done without making it worse?

It was armor.

And that, Steve realized…was something they had in common.

“Look, I didn’t mean to be a bitch, earlier” Steve began, and Eddie’s gaze snapped up to meet his. “I think I was…jealous…too. Of you.”

There was a beat of silence, before Eddie scoffed. “Yeah. Sure. Almost got me.” It sounded quiet and bitter.

Steve stopped dead in his tracks, and so did Eddie, turning to him as if he waited for him to agree. To laugh.

Steve’s expression was stern as he said, “After Nancy…I wasn’t King Steve anymore. And I didn’t know who I was. Hell, I think I don’t know now, apart from a vague idea of who I want to be, but…there was only one person left who admired me. And that was Henderson. I befriended the weird kid on a monster hunt and all of a sudden I had the little brother I didn’t know I needed or even wanted and it was nice to have someone look up to you like that, I guess. Someone who needed your advice and all that stuff. To be honest, I didn’t have much else. And while all the others who once looked up to me left for college, I was the dude who stayed behind to scoop ice cream in a sailor’s costume.”

There was the tiniest jerk in the corner of Eddie’s mouth, and Steve gaped.

“Oh, Hell no. You knew about the sailor’s costume.”

A shit-eating grin curved Eddie’s lips. “Imagine my face when I went to the mall last summer and saw Steeeeeve The Hair Harrington serving ice cream in his little sailor’s suit.”

“Don’t.”

“With his little sailor’s hat.”

“I said, don’t.”

“Ahoy-ing at the chicks as if he weren’t knee-deep in despair and misery.”

“I was. Glad you noticed. I didn’t notice you, by the way. Were you hiding behind a potted plant or stuff?”

“You were busy sailing that ‘ocean of flavor’”, Eddie drawled, mimicking Steve’s flirty voice as he swayed into Steve’s path, making Steve take a careful little step back as he quipped, “You’re selling drugs, dude.”

“And I’m doing it without a little sailor’s hat,” Eddie grinned.

Which was a fair point, Steve had to admit, before he went on, “And then Henderson started High School and found himself a new best friend. One who played D&D and guitar and was in a band and understood all the geeky stuff I never did. It was all about Eddie Munson, twenty-four-seven. You were stealing my goddamn kid. From right under my nose.”

Still toying with the sleeve of his leather jacket, a genuinely disbelieving smile curved Eddie’s lips before he declared, “We could, like. Call it even and start co-parenting the little shrimp.” There was a spark of humor in his eyes as he swayed to the side, his nudging Steve as he drawled, “Still super jealous as Hell, by the way.”

An eerie, high-pitched shriek pierced the cold air, suffocating the little laugh bubbling up Steve’s throat and making Eddie start, the guy’s dark eyes snapping up to scan the bare branches of the trees extending into the dark skies like the bony hands of skeletons reaching up from their graves before the metalhead droned, “Nope. Outside of D&D…I am noooo hero.” With an assessing glance at Steve, he added, “To be honest, while we’re at it: I would never have jumped into that lake to save your ass. Not under any…uh. Normal circumstances, that is.”

The shriek echoed again, farther away this time, and Eddie muttered, “I see danger and I just…turn heel and run. At least that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.”

His tone was bitter. Ashamed.

Steve huffed. “Give yourself a break, man.”

“Look,” Eddie said, stopping in his tracks before he pointed at Nancy and Robin walking a few steps ahead, his voice growing lower, “I’m only here because those two ladies? They jumped in right after you. Now, I was too shamed to be the one who stayed behind. Returning back to shore to tell Y/N I let all her friends…drown? Get eaten by monsters?” He scoffed. “But Wheeler, right there? She didn’t hesitate a single second. Not one second. She just dove in right after you.”

Steve’s gaze flitted to Nancy, and his heart…his heart squeezed with longing. For what, he didn’t exactly know. For what he’d lost? Or because he never even had it in the first place?

As if he’d read his mind, Eddie added, a strange new softness in his voice, “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two. But if I were you…I’d get her back.”

And Steve realized that the shadow in Eddie’s dark eyes as he watched him was sadness. A deep sadness that made him look small and forlorn and – to Steve’s own surprise – made his heart go out to the guy for a second as Eddie placed a ringed hand over his heart when he added, “Because that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

It was then that Steve realized that he’d had it wrong all along.

That Eddie The Freak Munson didn’t only have a few crack ribs. The guy had a broken heart as well.

And to that…Steve could relate more than anything else.

[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.

THE RIGHTSIDE UP]

When you arrived at the Wheelers’ half an hour later, it was safe to say spider-gate had left its traces on an obviously still shaken Officer Callahan. Shaken because, of course, neither Callahan himself nor the utterly exasperated Chief Powell had managed to find Max’s imaginary spider while they’d scoured the car with their flashlights until, after fifteen minutes, the Chief of Hawkins PD had had enough of the shenanigans and ordered everyone to get back in the car to make the rest of the ten minute ride to the Wheelers’, where – to your horror – Ted and Karen had been awaiting your arrival alongside the Sinclairs, an annoyed Erica in tow, and Dustin’s mom, all of them in various states of worries.

Except for Ted Wheeler. But if you knew one thing, having grown up with Nancy, it was that not even the ground ripping open beneath his feet would be able to faze Ted Wheeler enough to leave his Lazyboy Chair.

It had been evident not a single person in the room bought your story about taking a midnight hike around Lover’s Lake.

And while Powell had stationed four of his cops around the Wheelers’ house as a precaution so none of you would embark on another “midnight hike”, the Chief of PD himself was currently in the dining room with the rest of the parents, voices rising into another fledgling heated argument. Max, the Sinclair siblings, Dustin and you had been seated in the kitchen under the watchful, unrelenting glower of one of Powell’s officers.

Neither of you dared to say a word as your heart was racing, mind going a mile a minute.

Had they already found the gate? Had they made it back to shore, out of the woods to find a new hiding place for Eddie?

But it was okay. As long as Powell and his officers were here, they weren’t scouring the woods.

Though not knowing where he was right now, not knowing whether he was okay, drove you insane.

“Can we play?”, a tiny voice chimed up, meeting Holly’s blue eyes who’d positioned herself beside your chair.

“Not now, Holly,” you replied, trying hard to keep your voice light-hearted.

“Don’t you like me anymore?”, she pouted.

Oh, lord. Then again, there wasn’t much to do right now, anyways. You could just as well keep panicking while keeping a six-years-old happy.

“Fine,” you said, and the kid didn’t waste another minute to grab your hand and pull you up from your chair with an impatience she could only have learned from Karen Wheeler.

Dustin’s eyes snapped up from the arrangement of tulips on the Wheelers’ kitchen table he’d been staring at for the past few minutes, a silent question in his gaze as you shrugged, letting Holly pull you past the others and towards the living room – only to be stopped by the grim looking officer.

“No. Instruction’s been clear,” he grumbled, “You stay right here.”

You weren’t one to be sarcastic to cops. But they were hunting Eddie, had given out his name to the public without any true evidence justifying such a step, had stood by idly as Jason had once again stripped you of your power and credibility before he’d sicked all of Hawkins on Eddie with their pitchforks and torches.

You were at the end of your tether.

And you were done with shutting up.

“Last time I checked,” you replied sweetly, “I wasn’t a prisoner. But if you’re scared the six-years-old and I will commit a felony in the living room, it’s on you to avert that temper tantrum. Right, Holly?”

“I want to play!”, she agreed loudly, “I’m bored!”

It worked. Hell hath no wrath like a preschool kid.

With a sigh, the officer stepped aside to let the two of you pass, and Holly dragged you to the dollhouse in the corner beside the sofa.

It had been there as long as you could remember. Nancy, Barb and you had spent countless hours around the dollhouse – an intricate four-story dollhouse, with tiny little leaflets of carved ivy climbing its blush-colored façade, and intricate wooden furniture lovingly decorating each of the rooms.

“You kept the lights”, you smiled as you sat cross-legged beside Holly, who had already started to braid the hair of one of her Rainbow Brite dolls, this one’s hair a vibrant neon green, the kid’s attention already gone from the dollhouse.

Your fingertips trailed the string of tiny fairy lights you and Nancy had glued around the dollhouse’s façade not that long ago. It had been a cold day sometime in October or November the year before Barb had gone missing. You’d been bored one late afternoon, contemplating whether it would be too soon to string up the Christmas lights already – and since Mrs. Wheeler had insisted it was too soon, you’d opted to decorate the dollhouse instead, a little ode to all the days you’d spent playing with it.

An amazed little laugh bubbled from your lips at the memory, cutting through the gloom of the situation.

That was when you felt it.

A brush of air, fleeting and warm and close, strangely close, like a draft caressing your cheek.

You whirled around, but the living room was empty, the agitated voices of Karen Wheeler and Mrs. Sinclair floating through the air from the adjacent dining room around the corner.

But the living room was empty, save for you and Holly, who was still deeply immersed in the task of braiding the doll’s green hair.

You could have sworn…

There it was again, closer this time, the air stirring as if something was right beside you.

Something…or someone.

Slowly, heart racing in your chest all of a sudden, you reached out to the empty space beside you, fingertips hovering in the air.

And this time, the sensation was different. Not a subtle, ephemeral brush of air any longer – but the softest tingle on your fingertips, a sizzling static prickling on your skin like the air right before a thunderstorm.

It felt…good.

It felt weirdly familiar.

“What the –“ Your whisper faded into the air as your gaze fell on the dollhouse, the fairy lights strung along its façade.

They’d started to blink, winking back at you.

They’d never done that before.

Blink-blinkblinkblink-pause-blink-blinkblinkblink.

This rhythm, the dance of light and shadow…it almost felt like a melody.

A familiar melody, a tune –

Your heart skipped its next beat as the memory came crashing back to you.

[Saturday, October 19th, 1885. THEN.]

Tap-taptaptap-pause-tap-taptaptap.

You watched Eddie’s fingertips tap away at the polished surface of his guitar as he used his other hand to flick through the stack of chords scattered on the floor around him.

Tap-taptaptap-pause-tap-taptaptap.

It almost sounded like a melody.

“Is that morse code?”

“Huh?” Eddie looked outright confused when he glanced up at you.

“Morse code,” you repeated, “That – the tapping. You always do that when you’re sorting your chords.”

Eddie tilted his head. “I do?”

You smiled. “Yeah. This.” Scooting closer to the edge of the bed, you reached out, fingertips gently tapping on the side of his beloved guitar, repeating the rhythm. Tap-taptaptap-pause-tap-taptaptap.

“It’s always the same, so I was wondering if it was morse code or something. This sounds stupid,” you added with a nervous little chuckle, “Forget I said that.”

“No,” Eddie exclaimed, a timid little smile tugging at his own lips. “No, I know I’m doing it. It’s this weird little tune I got stuck in my head as soon as I hold my guitar. As if my brain is shifting into guitar mode or something.”

You could tell he was nervous all of a sudden. Which was endearing.

Cute.

“It could be our own morse code, though,” Eddie added, that grin widening. “Like, you know. Uh, a secret signal.”

“What for?”, you inquired, leaning a little closer to match the conspirational grin on his features.

“Dunno,” he shrugged, mulling it over, “How ‘bout. ‘Hey there’?”

“’Hey there’?”, you repeated with a laugh.

“If I ever get lost at sea or shit, and you receive that – it’s me saying ‘Hey there. I’m lost at sea.’ You still wouldn’t know where I was and I’d get munched on by sharks and die a gruesome death in the freezing abysmal depths of the ocean but you’d know I said hey there.”

With a soft smile, you reached out to tap the sequence onto his guitar, your fingertips close to his.

Tap-taptaptap-pause-tap-taptaptap.

“Hey there, Eddie,” you smiled, losing yourself in the beautiful dark shade of his eyes once again as his conspirational grin widened.

“Hey there, monster slayer.”

[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.

THE UPSIDE DOWN.]

Robin swatted at a few of those particles floating in front of her nose as she watched Eddie with growing fascination. And growing panic.

Because something was off.

Eddie stood frozen in place as more and more of those creepy particles caught in his dark curls, looking like dust settling on a statue in the eerie half-light of the Wheelers’ Upside Down living room, his head titled like a curious cat as he watched…something in the far corner.

He was beaming.

“Are you high?”, Robin inquired, eyeing him skeptically, “Because what if these particles can get us all high and then we’re losing control and I’m not a well-coordinated person, that’s why I don’t drink or do drugs because coordination isn’t exactly my forte as it is, even when I’m sober so you can imagine what alcohol or drugs would do to my strained relationship with gravity –“

“Didn’t you hear that?”, Eddie interrupted, his eyes fixed on the empty spot in front of him, that wide, wide smile still in place as he tentatively reached out, slowly feeling the air.

“Um. Hear what?”

“What the Hell is he doing,” Steve muttered as he came to stand beside Robin, his hands crossed in front of his chest.

“Just listen,” Eddie exclaimed softly, and he turned to face the others, that giddy, wondrous expression still on his face as he waited for them to say something.

“Look, did – uh,” Robin began, shrinking a tiny step backwards, “Did one of the bats, perhaps, bite you?”

“No.”

“Can you, like, check?”

“I heard her laugh!”, Eddie exclaimed, turning back to the corner of the living room before he slowly sank to his knees beside a vine-covered dollhouse which looked way creepier than any kid’s toy had a right to be. And which was…glittering?

“Oh god I think it’s the toxins in the air,” Robin breathed, her gaze finding Nancy’s, who’d come to join them in the doorway, giving Eddie that assessing Nancy-Wheeler-frown as Robin added, “Didn’t you say there were toxins? He’s losing his mind and I think I am too because, does anyone else see the glitter on this creepy dollhouse? And when he starts trying to eat our brains –“

“She’s here,” Eddie interrupted with the widest grin, “On the other side, I mean, but she’s right here! I heard her laugh, I swear.”

“That’s how rabies start,” Robin murmured, shrinking another step away from Eddie even though she had to admit that he looked like a happy little puppy rather than a rabid dog right now, “That’s exactly how it starts.”

“Will found a way!”, Nancy’s exclamation made Robin start, “He talked to Joyce through the lights! I don’t know how exactly he did it, but if we find out –“

“We can make contact,” Robin finished.

And all four gazes fell on the soft golden hue surrounding the vine-covered dollhouse in the corner, dancing in the air like glittering dust.

“Does anyone know morse code?”, Nancy breathed.

“Nope,” Eddie announced happily, “Not exactly morse code.”

“Then why are you smiling?”, Steve sighed.

“Because, Steve,” Eddie drawled, tilting his head with that happy beam, “I know something way better than morse code.”

[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.

THE RIGHTSIDE UP.]

“Holy shit,” you breathed as your fingertips brushed over the string of fairy lights, the blink-blinkblinkblink-pause-blink-blinkblinkblink sending a gentle golden glow into the air.

“Hey there, Eddie,” you whispered.

[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.

THE UPSIDE DOWN.]

The whisper floated through the air, blurred by the veil between dimensions yet clear enough to understand the softly spoken words.

“Hey there, Eddie.”

Robin could feel the corners of her own lips lift at the infectious, radiant smile on Eddie’s lips, his fingers tapping away that weird little tune in the glittering hue surrounding the lights of the dollhouse.

And the joy in Eddie’s dark eyes glittered alongside the reflection of the golden dust dancing within them as he murmured, “Hey there, monster slayer.”

[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.

THE RIGHTSIDE UP.]

It took a split second for the realization to sink in that, if Eddie was talking to you through the lights…he was in the Upside Down.

With Vecna, the Mindflayer, all the horrid things roaming this mirror realm. With that swarm of monsters you kept seeing, devouring him in your nightmares night after night –

“You, girl!”, a harsh voice from behind made you whirl around to the officer in the doorway, Max beside him, her cornflower-blue eyes sparkling with silent belligerence, “The Chief’s gonna talk to two now. Ladies first. Come on. Let’s move.”

Your frantic gaze met Max’s, trying to convey what you’d just learned, mind going a mile a minute. You needed to tell the others because if Eddie was in the Upside Down, something had gone horribly wrong, and you needed to find out what it was, get him out of there before Vecna, the Mind Flayer, any of the vile creatures prowling that dimension could get to him –

“You hear me, girl? I told you to move, don’t got all night,” the cop snapped.

Your body was numb as you rose to your feet, the roar of your blood and panicked hammering of your heart creating white noise that drowned everything else when, like a sleepwalker, you followed the cop and Max out of the living room, through the kitchen, your gaze trained on your friend’s fiery braids as your brain scrambled to come up with a solution – and your eyes locked on Dustin’s. He was still sitting at the kitchen table, watching you with a confused frown while Lucas and Erica kept bickering in the background.

If you could somehow tell Dustin about what you’d just found out...

Your gaze fell on Karen Wheeler’s bouquet of tulips.

In a knee-jerk reaction, you slammed your hip into the kitchen table, hard enough for the vase to topple over, sending a gust of water and flowers sloshing over the tabletop and spilling onto the tiled floor while Dustin jumped up with a startled little yelp and you shouted, “Sorry! My bad!”

You let yourself fall to the ground to collect the scattered tulips, Dustin kneeling beside you to help as Holly came jumping into the kitchen, Karen Wheeler hot on her heels and chaos ensued. Dustin’s bewildered eyes met yours, and you whispered, “He’s here, on the other side, and you need to make contact with the lights and get him out of there, do you understand?”

“Wait – he’s –“, Dustin began, eyes wide as saucers as he cast a panicked gaze over your shoulder, but you cut him off, your voice shaking like your hands as you pressed, “Do you copy?!”

And when Dustin gave you a puzzled nod, the cop was already dragging you back to your feet with more vehemence than necessary. You shrugged off his hands with a deadly glare that made him take a tiny step backwards.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed.

With the havoc of Karen Wheeler cleaning up her tulips from the kitchen floor, and Dustin calling out for the Sinclair siblings, you and Max followed the cop through the hallway towards Ted Wheeler’s study.

“Change of plans,” you whispered to Max, both your gazes trained on the officer’s back, “No more distracting. We need to escape.”

Max, gave a curt nod, not batting an eye. “Plan B?”

“Plan B,” you agreed with a grim smirk.

[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.

THE UPSIDE DOWN.]

In every good old horror movie, there were three types of girls: the slut, who typically was the first one to bite the dust because somehow every director seemed to fiercely hate her for being so slutty, the badass final girl who was the last one standing, dragging herself out of the haunted woods slash house slash whatever, bloodied and determined.

And then there was the one who tripped and got eaten by the monster somewhere in the middle of the movie to remind everyone of the stakes.

Robin knew she’d been born to be the latter.

“I’m really sorry,” she repeated once more, watching Eddie, who was kneeling on the ground in front of her while he folded the bandana he’d been carrying in his pocket to tie it around the gash in her leg right above her ankle. “You’re probably thinking I’m trying to kill you.”

In the matter of the past few hours, Robin had accidentally slapped him in the boat, fallen elbow-first into his probably already cracked ribs during earthquake number two and now sent him flying off his bike when earthquake number three had catapulted her off of her own on the way to the gate which, according to Henderson’s screamed instructions while they’d communicated via Lite Brite, would have opened up in Eddie’s trailer by now.

Robin wouldn’t have held it against him if Eddie had lacked the courage to patch up her leg. The poor guy seemed to have been marked with the curse of miraculously always being right in the trajectory of her many mishaps.

“No worries,” Eddie chuckled, “If you’re trying to kill me, you’re doing a pretty shitty job so far. I just, uh, gonna keep a safe distance away from you from now on.”

He was done folding the bandana, and Robin risked another glance at the gash the pedal of her bike had torn into her leg when she’d fallen off. It wasn’t that deep, though definitely deep enough to bleed and hurt.

“Um, that bandana,” she faltered, giving the thing a dubious glance, “I won’t catch blood poisoning or something if we use it to stop the bleeding, right?”

“I mean…” Eddie glanced down at the piece of cloth in his hands, “It did touch the mattress back at Skull Rock, probably. But my second dive into Lover’s Lake should’ve cleaned it.”

“I feel our definitions of clean are alarmingly divergent,” Robin assessed.

“Didn’t you tell me about an hour ago that blood draws all kinds of monsters and nasty shit? ‘Cause I’d wager that blood poisoning can be treated better than a chewed-off limb.”

He had a point.

Silence descended over the two of them as Eddie started to wrap his bandana around Robin’s ankle, and she took the chance to examine him a little closer.

The guy looked like he’d been to Hell and back, which, in a way, he had. His messy curls had dried by now, and he’d stopped shaking the eerie white particles from the dark strands, making him look as if he’d been caught up in a snow storm. The bruise forming on Eddie’s jaw, a dark splotch of purple flashing through the curtain of curls spilling over his shoulders to frame his pale face as he glanced down, nearly looked as ghastly as the patched-up gash in his eyebrow. Robin’s heart went out to him.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“You can stop saying that,” Eddie replied good-naturedly.

“No. About the whole witch hunt going on against you, I mean.” Robin chewed the inside of her cheek. “I know what it’s like. Well, not to be hunted for being different but…to be different in a place that doesn’t take kindly to being different.”

Eddie threw her a curious glance as she went on, “Like, I was freaking out – totally freaking out – when I learned about all the Upside-Down-monster-stuff last year, but to be totally honest…I had worse days at Hawkins High than I had the day I was nearly getting chomped by a thirteen-feet-monster made of flesh-goo in my workplace.” She paused, giving him a sad smirk. “I figure the worst monster is still small, shallow-minded Hawkins itself. Which, I know, sounds, like, super deep but it really is not.”

Robin knew it wasn’t her who was wrong, it was the world she was living in. Like a TV stuck in black-and-white coloring when there could have been colors all along, making it better and brighter and so much less dull. That didn’t change her situation, though.

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed. “You’re right.”

There was a short beat of silence as Robin continued to watch this menacing looking guy who wasn’t menacing at all but just a dorky dude, and there were all these questions burning on her tongue she didn’t quite yet know how to phrase without scaring him off.

In Steve’s words…she’d have to go stealthily about this. Like a ninja.

So she just said, “I bet that’s not how you thought your spring break would look like.”

“Nope,” Eddie replied with a mirthless chuckle, “I prefer my monsters to be painted plastic on a D&D table.”

“What rattled you most?” Robin’s voice turned conspirational. “Was it the evil entity from another dimension framing you for grisly murder? The general existence of monsters? Or the parallel dimension you’re currently trapped in with Steve The Hair Harrington, Nancy The Priss Wheeler and That Weird Random Girl From Band?”

Eddie gave her a conspirational smirk.

“I guess it was the fact that Nancy The Priss Wheeler got guns, plural, in her bedroom; that the Weird Random Girl From Band somehow is as lost as I am, and that Steve The Hair Harrington is actually…”

“A nice guy?”

“Not a total douche, was what I was gonna say,” Eddie corrected with a mirthless little snicker. Scrunching his nose, he glanced up at her. “Guess I’m not as, uh. Immune to prematurely judging people as I thought I was.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Robin quipped, “I thought Steve was a total jackass and Nancy a priss, as well. It changed pretty quickly when Steve and I spent some quality time being drugged in a secret Russian underground lab and Nancy Wheeler faced the seven-feet-monster made of molten people with a shotgun and a frown.”

“I bet you were glad you didn’t say the priss-thing to her face, huh,” Eddie deadpanned, but Robin’s grin turned into a pained flinch as Eddie pulled the bandana a bit tighter, tying the ends into a knot before he assessed his handywork. And she realized that, if she didn’t say something now, she would’ve missed the chance.

Her gaze briefly flitted over his shoulder, to Nancy, checking Steve’s meanwhile blood-soaked makeshift bandages covering the deep bat bites on his torso, far enough away for the weird, dull atmosphere of the place to blur their words. Though Robin didn’t need to hear their words. From the way Steve was smiling, he was definitely flirting.

Eddie followed her line of sight. And when he turned back again, there was a deep frown on his face.

“Still not a Steve Harrington fan?”, Robin teased.

And the sadness suddenly darkening Eddie’s doe eyes caught her off guard.

“I guess it, uh…would be easier if he actually was a douche and I could just continue to blissfully loathe him,” he replied quietly.

Oh.

Holy fuck.

It finally dawned on Robin what was going on.

She’d figured it had simply been a matter of jealousy on Eddie’s side regarding all the things Steve had and Eddie didn’t. Popularity, girls swooning at his feet, money, a family which, from an outsider’s perspective, was caring and intact. But she realized now that it had never been about the popularity, the money, the family or even the girls – it had been about one girl.

And Eddie, no matter how perceptive and attentive he was, had it all wrong.

Because while Steve had shifted into protective best buddy mode and probably feared Eddie would steal his friend and Henderson from him like some metal version of Rumpelstiltskin…Eddie the freak – who had every right to be wary of people like Steve, just like Robin had been not that long ago – had connected all the dots in the absolute wrong way.

“It’s platonic,” Robin stated. No point in beating about the bush.

Eddie’s gaze snapped up to meet hers, a deep kind of relief shining within, and Robin emphasized, slower this time, “With a capital P.”

The relief, though, wasn’t long-lived, replaced by sadness again as Eddie’s gaze suddenly looked far away. And when he didn’t comment on it, Robin realized a little nudge wouldn’t do. No, Eddie Munson needed to be tackled with a truck. His earlier awkward tiptoeing around the creepers on the ground seemed to directly translate into his love life.

“Platonic like in, just friends. There’s never been anything more going on between Steve and your monster slayer. In case you didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Eddie replied quietly.

It was the most broken thing Robin had ever heard.

“That’s an incredibly gloomy way of thinking, dufus,” she replied, her tone softening at the expression in Eddie’s gaze, the emotions within as clear and loud as those neon billboards near the interstate. “And incredibly hypocritical for someone who, not an hour ago, gave a pretty convincing pep talk about fighting for true love and getting one’s girl back, which makes me wonder why you’re still pining from afar instead of, you know, getting your girl back.”

For a moment, Robin worried she’d overstepped and driven him away as Eddie started at her, dark puppy-dog eyes wide as saucers, before he let out the most miserable sigh in the history of miserable sighs.

“You’re not gonna let it rest, are you?”

“Hell no. Might as well spill the beans, dufus.”

And with that weird way of speaking by drawling random words, Eddie said slowly, “I’ve always been kinda convinced that, if true love actually exists? It’s not for people like me. It’s for the Steeeeve Harringtons of this world. And I guess that was fine by me because…you don’t really miss what you never had, right? And then there was a very brief time when I thought that maybe I could have these things.” He snorted, a dismal noise that drifted through the air. “Didn’t turn out well for me. I’m not a Steve Harrington kinda guy. I’m the distraction that spices things up before someone better comes along. I’m not the Happily Ever After. And I guess it was kinda my own fault for ever believing I could be something more than that. Guess I learned the hard way that dreams belong on a goddamn D&D table and nowhere else.”

It didn’t sound bitter or angry. It just sounded miserable. And that made it worse, in a way.

And Robin, who really didn’t like touching people, was fighting the urge to tackle Eddie Munson into the bear hug of his life; this faraway look in his dark doe-eyes so heavy with desolation that Robin could feel it in in her own chest, like a string pulling tight and squeezing as she mulled over his words.

Eddie Munson sounded like someone whose heart had been broken. Truly, thoroughly smashed.

The question that still remained was…why? It didn’t make sense.

“You might think I know what happened,” Robin said, “But actually, up until you went on the run for satanic murder and she dragged all of us with her to find you, I had no idea you two had ever spoken to each other apart from the incident with Jason in the woods. So I’m playing the guessing game here.” Robin paused. And when Eddie didn’t interfere, she added, “But this girl didn’t waste a single second to find you. Like, you were on the run and there was a dead, mutilated cheerleader – sorry – in your trailer but still she knew you were innocent. She was the one rallying us to find you, and she was the one who actually knew where to find you. I – and the rest of us, except for Henderson – only followed because we were scared she’d be cheerleader number two in your satanic body count.”

“Thank you,” Eddie deadpanned.

But a glitter had settled in his dark eyes as he listened, a glitter that suspiciously looked like the wild kind of hope only the desperate could feel as he was clutching on to Robin’s words.

So Robin went on, “And she’s been raising Hell ever since. She faced the scrutiny of a town of which a good portion still calls her a slut and told them what Jason had tried, knowing none of them would believe a single one of her words. Just because she couldn’t endure them talking about you like that any longer. And if that’s not the most unambiguous sign of true love you’ve ever seen,” she echoed Eddie’s earlier words to Steve, “I think you should really get these cynical eyes of yours checked, dufus.”

In the heavy silence which followed, Robin’s words floated in the air like the flurry of particles all around them, confetti frozen in time to match this eerie place.

Eddie’s gaze beneath his long, dark lashes, downcast while he watched a single white particle drift to the ground, was brimming with a kaleidoscope of emotions as he let Robin’s words sink in.

“I don’t think she wants me to fight.” He sounded defeated. He sounded like someone who’d given up. “And I can’t get back what I never had in the first place. Life’s not a fairy tale, and even if it was…it’s the knight who wins the princess’ heart. Not the jester.”

Eddie lifted his head, sad doe eyes meeting Robin’s.

“What about you, Random Weird Girl From Band?” There was a tease in Eddie’s lilting tone that couldn’t quite veil the abysmal sadness still glaring beneath the surface in his gaze.

Robin gave him a mirthless smirk of her own. “The stakes of my love life are spectacularly low, considering the fact where we’re stuck right now,” she deadpanned. And then, Robin made a decision. Trusting her gut for once, instead of her anxieties. “Though…it’s a bit sad that I’m probably going to die without ever having kissed a girl.”

There was a beat of silence.

Please don’t make me regret it, please don’t make me –

“Yeah, well,” Eddie said slowly, the corner of his lips lifting in a conspirational smirk, “My own kiss count is actually lower than my alleged body count. If that helps.”

For Robin, there had always been clear lines separating her from others, little walls built upon the knowledge that they saw the Robin she showed them – like looking at only a piece of a polaroid picture without seeing the rest of the photograph. For obvious reasons.

There were only two people she had ever been comfortable enough with to reveal the missing snippet of the polaroid that was Robin Buckley.

Three, now.

She could basically feel the wall between her and Eddie crumbling while a smile tugged at her lips. A grateful one – not grateful for accepting this new snippet of the Robin Buckley Polaroid but for his reaction, as if there had never been a question of acceptance in the first place. Not as if she was weird or different but as if a girl liking girls was no big deal at all.

“Well, how many girls do you want to kiss?”, Robin inquired playfully, cocking an eyebrow.

Eddie’s smile softened. “Just the one I already kissed.”

He slapped his hands on his thighs before he rose back to his feet, wincing a little at the movement before he extended his hand to help Robin get up.

“But tell you what,” Eddie declared, “As soon as we’re outta here and got rid of the evil eldritch entity framing my sorry ass for triple murder, we’re gonna find you a girl to kiss, Random Weird Girl From Band.”

Robin didn’t tell him that she’d actually found one already. That seemed like a discussion for another day.

[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.

THE RIGHTSIDE UP.]

The silence hanging in the air of Ted Wheeler’s study was so tense you wouldn’t have been surprised if a thunderstorm had broken lose in the room as the four of you kept staring each other down like enemies in an old Western movie; Chief Powell and Officer Callahan behind Ted Wheeler’s massive oakwood desk, you and Max seated in front of it.

The silent tune of Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill floating from the headphones around the redhead’s neck did nothing to dissipate the tension.

“Will you turn that off,” Chief Powell said with a nod at said headphones.

“No,” Max replied.

Callahan let out a snort, but was silenced by Powell’s warning side-eye, before the Chief’s eyes locked on yours.

“You’re causing an obstruction of police work,” he began, tone grave. “That’s a felony.”

“Since you were the ones arresting us in the middle of a hike, escorting us here with a whole squadron of officers and wasting your time scaring kids,” you retorted drily, “I’d say the ones obstructing the police work right now are the police themselves.”

There was a suppressed grunt of laughter from Max beside you.

The way Powell narrowed his eyes on you as he leaned closer, hands interlocked on the polished surface of the desk, didn’t have the unsettling effect on you he’d probably intended.

Nothing they could do would. Your systems were in panic mode already, spinning around the fact that Eddie was in the Upside Down, probably trapped, in deadly danger, all the cruel images your nightmares had haunted and taunted you with ever since that November night playing on repeat like the Kate Bush songs on Max’s Walkman.

Only that it were Eddie’s death cries which kept echoing through your mind.

“You know, we had a little chat with Jason Carver,” the Chief said quietly.

“Because you had a change of heart to question him about the allegation of attempted assault I confided you with?” you retorted sardonically.

There was a beat of crestfallen silence as, at the edge of your vision, Max’s head swiveled to gape at you.

“He told us some interesting things,” Callahan cut in with a slow smirk, leaning a little forward in his chair. “Told us you were at that boathouse that burned down, together with Eddie Munson.”

When you didn’t reply, didn’t bat an eye, Powell added, “He told us you assisted Eddie Munson in the murder of Patrick McKinney.”

“He also told us you set the fire which burned down said boathouse,” Callahan drawled. “With your…mind. Like a – and I quote – witch. He is sure that Eddie Munson has you under some kind of – quoting again –“ he glanced down at what you now realized was an open file with the handwritten notes of some protocol, “Demonic influence which helps you perform witchcraft.”

This time, Max couldn’t suppress her snicker, and despite your heart plummeting to the Wheelers’ basement, you kept your features schooled into a mask of amusement.

Powell looked as if he were about to strangle Callahan.

“So, let me sum this up,” you said slowly, leaning forward in your chair to splay one hand on the polished wooden surface of the desk, “You believe Jason Carver’s claim that I’m a witch who’s able to set fire with her mind, because Eddie Munson made a deal with the Devil. But you don’t believe that Jason tried to assault a girl after following her into the woods.”

You didn’t know whether to cry about the utter and devastating incompetence of these men in power letting monsters like Jason roam free…or burst into hysterical laughter about the fact that, in a way, Jason had connected at least some of the dots regarding the fire and yourself. A topic you really couldn’t mull over right now because there was enough on your plate.

“What’s your relation to Edward Munson?”, Powell inquired calmly.

You gave him a sardonic smirk. “We hit it off in the woods to call the demonic hotline down to Hell and make a deal with the Devil to give me fire-witchcraft, of course.” Your voice was dripping with sarcasm, Max biting her lip beside you in quiet amusement.

There was a twitch in Powell’s left eye as you stared each other down, neither willing to look away first.

“Do not mock the Hawkins PD,” Callahan said.

“You’re doing a pretty good job of that on your own,” Max shot back. She’d truly mastered the art of sarcasm.

Powell pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is serious.”

“Devilishly so,” you deadpanned.

There was no respect left in you for those men. None. They could all go to Hell. Burn there, rot there, you couldn’t care less.

But you knew that right now, no matter how you mocked them, despised them, ridiculed them…they were the ones holding the power. Keeping you here when Eddie’s time might be running out right now, when there could be a swarm of screeching, flying monsters –

Your train of thought was interrupted by Max’s sudden shaky gasp as she hunched over in her chair, hands flying to her ears.

“Max?,” you asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Hey, Max, what’s wrong?”

“I’m…I don’t know,” she breathed, one hand wandering down to clutch the collar of her shirt, “I’m so dizzy.”

“Dizzy,” Powell echoed. He didn’t look convinced at all.

“Terribly,” Max choked out. “God, no, not now…”

“Max? You’re not going to faint, are you?”, you pressed, shuffling closer to her in your chair.

“I’m…” she began, eyes firmly squeezed shut, “I think I am…”

“Officers!”, you cried, “Help her!”

“What – that’s – that’s fake,” Powell said weakly, but you cut him off with another shriek, “You’re going to let her faint?! For Heaven’s sake, the girl is barely fifteen! You’re holding her here without any rhyme and reason, without food or water, in the middle of the night when her mother doesn’t have a clue about her daughter’s whereabouts and now you let her faint?!”

“Well, we’re in the middle of –”

“Bring her something to drink, Chief, before you’ll have to call a fucking ambulance!”, you exclaimed, an arm slung protectively over Max’s shoulder, keeping her in her seat.

Powell shot up from his seat, mumbling, “Of course, yes, water –“

“NO!”, you shrieked, “No water! Sugar! She needs – Max, what does you mum always give you when that happens?”

“Hot water with freshly cut ginger and citrus and brown sugar,” Max breathed, her eyes half open as you grabbed the open file from the desk to fan her, channeling all the terror you were feeling for Eddie into your gaze as you glanced at Powell, who looked utterly shellshocked all of a sudden before he gave a curt nod and scurried off, the door to the study falling close behind him, locking Max and you in with Callahan.

Or rather…locking him in with you.

A malicious little smirk bloomed on Max’s lips as she sat straight again, pushing a fiery stray strand of hair away which had fallen out of her braid and into her forehead, her eyes sparkling with glee as both of you looked at Callahan whose mouth fell open in a comically dumb expression of shock.

“You tricked –“

“Officer Callahan,” you interrupted with a drawl, “How’s your girlfriend?”

“My –“ he stammered, gaze flitting from you to Max and back, utterly dumbfounded, “My wife is fine.”

“I wasn’t talking about your wife,” you said sweetly, “I was talking about your girlfriend. Max, what was her name again? God, I’m so terrible with names.”

“Totally terrible,” Max agreed with an exaggerated nod, “Betsy. Betsy Macintosh.”

“Yes! Betsy!” Your gleeful grin widened at the horror flashing in Callahan’s eyes. “Betsy is lovely,” you added.

“She is,” Max agreed, “The sunshine of the whole Forest Hills trailer park. And she has sooo many friends.”

“So many,” you agreed. “All of them men, come to think of it.”

“Major Kline was one of them.”

“He was, wasn’t he?”, you grinned. “Oh, and Mr. Adams from my street. And of course Officer Callahan here, right?”

“Yes,” Max drawled, the horror in Callahan’s eyes growing with every word, “I saw him last week. Wanted to say hi but he was in a rush as he left her trailer.”

“What are you brats doing?”, Callahan hissed.

“Well, I’m a brat,” Max corrected patiently, tilting her head, “She’s an adult, remember?”

“We are blackmailing you, of course,” you replied sweetly.

He scoffed, utterly unable to hide his panic. “With what evidence?”

“I don’t think your wife cares about evidence,” you thought aloud.

Max’s grin widened even more if that was even possible. “That’s gonna be a huuuuge bouquet of flowers.”

You chuckled. “Or a whole garden.”

“What do you want?”, Callahan hissed.

“First of all,” you drawled, “The drugs you found at the Munson trailer – they don’t exist.”

“That’s manipulation of evidence –“

“Then I suggest you do it properly.”

“Wouldn’t want the police to find out,” Max added sweetly, her hand shooting up to cover he mouth in feigned indignation. “Or your wife.”

“And the second favor?”, Callahan hissed, his fits on Ted Wheeler’s desk curled into fists.

You gave him the sweetest of triumphant smiles. “You let us go. All of us. Now.”

[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.

THE RIGHTSIDE UP.]

With each minute of closing the distance to the Forest Hills trailer park on your bikes…you could feel the gate in Eddie’s trailer. Just like you’d felt the one in Lover’s Lake.

Another dark pulse echoing alongside your own, drawing you in like the tug of a leash – but this time, your fear for Eddie was stronger, drowning out everything else as you burst through the door and into the trailer – and for a heartbeat, it didn’t matter that the living room ceiling was covered by tar-black creepers, or that there was a gate to another dimension glaring right above your heads like an infected, ghastly gash.

And while Dustin and the others started buzzing about, you were frozen in place, caught up in the hailstorm of all the memories haunting this place, like polaroids in a photo album which captured the moments when, despite all the nightmares and headaches and hallucinations, the bullying you’d endured because of Jason’s lies…you’d been happy because in each and every one of these moments, Eddie had been there.

There was the TV on which you’d watched your horror movies every Saturday night after having spent the days studying – and napping while Eddie kept playing his guitar for you. There was the blanket Eddie had wrapped around your shoulders on the roof to shield you from the biting winter air, draped across the sofa’s armrest. And with this bittersweet longing in your chest, you knew that if you opened the fridge, what you’d find would be at least one bottle of Yoo-Hoo.

Apart from the gate glaring in the ceiling, nothing had changed in the four months since you’d walked out of Eddie’s trailer for what you’d thought had been the last time.

And it still felt like home.

“BADA-BADA-BOOM!”, Dustin’s triumphant exclamation ripped you out of your reverie.

The kids had managed to pierce the slimy membrane covering the gate, and there, on the other side, upside down and grinning at you through the tear between worlds…were Nancy and Robin and Steve and Eddie.

Alive.

Relief, overpowering like a tide, flooded you at the sight of him.

And with the widest beam, Eddie’s eyes met yours.

“Hey there, monster slayer. Did you-hoo miss me?”

And you laughed. A genuine, heartfelt laugh.

Despite this dark draw you still felt radiating from the gate alongside the crimson light it was shedding, the pulsation of this rip in the fabric between worlds weaving with your own heartbeat as the Upside Down beckoned you closer. But it didn’t hold any power over you.

Because the bond tying you to Eddie – this one gentle and warm and right, so opposing to the eerie lure of the gate – was stronger, so much stronger, than whatever dark chains were lashing you this mirror realm.

“Okay, I’d love to get out of here now,” Robin announced, “Fair warning. We all really, really stink.”

***

“Those stains are, um…” Eddie began, his gaze drifting from Robin to you. You were pretty sure that even without the crimson light of the gate illuminating his features, his cheeks would have been aflame with a deep shade of fire-extinguisher-red as he finished curtly, “I don’t know what the stains are.”

There was a huffed, “Dude,” from Steve and a suspicious side-eye from Robin before she looked back at the gate. “Okay, I’ll be the guineapig. Can someone from the Rightside Up help pull me through? I hurt my ankle.”

Before any of the others could reply, you’d already stepped forward, feet sinking into the mattress.

“I’ll do it.”

It was a flash of madness probably, to challenge the fates like this.

But you were the only adult on the Rightside Up, and you sure as Hell wouldn’t let any of the kids take a single step further towards the danger they’d already been dragged into.

“I’d tell you to take off your shoes before stepping on another person’s bed,” Steve announced, “But in this case I’m more worried about your sneakers.”

It earned him laughs from the others and a dirty side-eye from Eddie, though you noticed it had lost its vigor.

Which made you wonder whether the two of them had come to a ceasefire during their trip to the Upside Down. Nothing to bond over like being chased by monsters, you figured.

You were having a hard time focusing on climbing the bedsheet-rope instead of counting all the hours you’d spent on this very mattress, fast asleep while Eddie was playing his guitar for you, voice crooning the lyrics of his metal songs to keep the nightmares at bay, both of you unsuspecting that he was weaving his spell against the monster reaching out for you. Keeping your demons at bay, battling them when you couldn’t.

“Okay,” you breathed, taking a last steadying inhale when you wrapped your hands around the bedsheets of the makeshift-rope hovering between worlds, a bridge you weren’t sure you were ready to cross, and when you lifted your head to the glaring rip, your gaze found Eddie’s on the other side.

“You gonna climb that or are you waiting until you levitate towards it?”, Erica inquired, and somehow, it gave you the final push you’d needed. Biting your lip to suppress a grin, you quipped, “You’d make an amazing cheerleader one day, Erica. It’s that cheerful, encouraging personality of yours.”

You were pretty sure the amused snort belonged to Lucas, who was silenced when Erica drawled, “You’ll stop laughing when I tell them what I found under your bed. It’s even more disgusting than this filthy mattress here.”

“Shut UP,” Lucas hissed, while the deep shade of red on Eddie’s cheeks was starting to outshine the gate’s crimson glow.

And with the bickering of the Sinclair siblings in the background, you began to climb the makeshift rope, Robin mirroring you on the other side with a little flinch at the pressure the movement put on her hurt ankle – and you realized that the black piece of cloth tied around it was Eddie’s bandana.

With every inch you climbed closer towards the rip, the dark pull in your chest grew stronger. Drawing you in.

Arms straining, you reached the gate.

It was surreal, dangling here, between worlds.

Upside Down and Rightside Up. Reality and its dark twin, side by side.

With horrid fascination, you reached out.

“Don’t touch –“ Dustin’s warning rang out from below, but it was too late already. You let your fingertips graze the edges of the gate having eaten itself through the ceiling of the Munson trailer, like spreading rot on a decaying fruit – and you scrunched your nose when your hand came away coated with cold, murky slime.

“Why did you have to touch it?!”, Dustin chided.

“How did it feel?”, Robin wanted to know, curiosity in her blue eyes as she reached the top of the rope.

“Slimy.”

“Oh.” With awe in her expression and ignoring Dustin’s exasperated groan, she reached out to touch the edge of the gate on her side, and you deadpanned, “What happened to the curiosity voyage, Henderson?”

You extended your hand towards Robin as Dustin retorted, “There’s a very fine line between curiosity and stupidity. And you’re dancing on it.”

“Says the kid who raised a Demogorgon.”

“He what?!”, Eddie blurted.

“It was a Demodog! And I didn’t know that!”

With an exasperated can-you-believe-this-kid-glance at Eddie, Steve huffed. “Yeah, and now take a guess who was the one who needed to clean the mess.”

“El,” Dustin and Max chimed in simultaneously, earning them a dirty glance from Steve as Robin took your hand.

Her fingers were sweaty as they laced with yours at the heart of the gate, both of you grinning at each other with a mix of marvel and bewilderment – before your eyes widened, and Robin’s grin slipped like your grip on the rope.

Robin’s outcry of surprise mingled with your own yelp as the two of you tumbled through the gate like Alice through the Rabbit Hole.

Down the wrong side.

For a split second as you tumbled through the gate, there was an icy current cascading through your body, electrifying and buzzing and powerful like a shockwave as the Upside Down seemed to welcome you –

A flurry of white particles burst in the air like confetti when you landed. Not on the ground. Not on Robin, either.

There was a surprised huff as the air was pressed from his lungs, leather-clad arms shooting out to wrap around you in a reflexive movement when you knocked him to the ground, your forehead slamming against his jaw with enough force to make his teeth rattle and draw a muffled groan of pain from his throat.

And the weird buzzing sensation in your body was replaced by a different kind of electricity thrumming through you when you realized that Eddie was splayed beneath you, his eyes wide as saucers and his chest, pressed flush against yours – no, your chest pressed flush against his – rapidly rising and falling, his arms still wrapped around your middle while you stared at each other.

A flurry of images flitted back to your mind. Of his body pressed against yours, chest to chest, gazing at each other underneath a sea of winking stars before Eddie’s lips had met yours in a ravenous kiss, his hand roaming down your side to play with the waistband of your panties as you’d rolled your hips against his to draw the sweetest noise from him while your hands had tangled in his soft curls –

“You okay?”, you breathed, having a hard time to push the images away.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s breath was warm as it prickled over your lips, his voice less than a whisper.

The stench of Lover’s Lake clung to him as much as it clung to you, laced with his sweat – and still, you wanted to bury your face at the crook of his neck, inhale the scent of his skin, trail kissed along the column of his throat – “Might have added a few more cracked ribs to the ongoing list of injuries but…I know where to get myself patched up. By the way, now I get why you told me to run when a gate to another dimension opens up in my kitchen,” he added with a low chuckle as softness melted the surprise in his wide eyes while he glanced up at you.

For a few stunned heartbeats, neither of you uttered another word as you kept staring at each other, panting breaths mingling in the slim space of air between you, the tip of his nose nearly brushing yours, his wild mess of dark curls spilling around his head on the ground like a halo of ink while the red glow of the gate above you turned the umber shade of his eyes nearly black – or was it the way his pupils seemed dilated all of a sudden?

“You knocked the seasonal allergies right out of my sinuses,” Eddie added softly, his eyes briefly flicking down to your lips as your heartbeat accelerated to a wild racing rhythm – or was that his own, pressed so close to yours? – though the moment was broken as Steve muttered, “That’s not seasonal allergies, dude, that the toxins in the atmosphere we keep inhaling with every second of you two getting touchy-feely in front of our emergency exit.”

At Steve’s words, you scrambled away from Eddie as fast as you could, your cheeks burning as you met the gazes of Robin and Nancy who’d positioned themselves behind Steve.

Robin – who must have climbed back to her feet sometime in the past minute while you’d been…preoccupied – threw Eddie a curious glance before she positioned herself at the end of the rope, glancing up at the gate. “Okay,” she announced, “It’s probably safer if I just try it myself –“

“Let me,” Steve uttered, already grabbing her to lift her up. Eddie jumped out of her trajectory with a velocity that made you wonder how many times he’d fallen victim to her clumsiness in the past few hours as you watched Robin climb up the rope, towards the gate, softly hissing with the movements of her bandaged ankle as she muttered, “Okay I got this I’m doing this I’m –“ Her voice fused into a little squeal as she reached the gate and gravity turned, pulling her onto the mattress placed underneath, safe and sound in the Rightside Up.

“That was fun!”, she announced, a little breathless, moving away from the mattress for the next one to climb through, and you turned to Nancy who was standing beside you.

“Okay, Nance, you next?” You paused as you noticed that Steve was wearing Eddie’s denim vest above his very bare – and hairy – chest. “Um, what happened?”

“Oh, you noticed,” Steve retorted, somewhat indignant. “I got hurt.”

“How –“

“No worries,” Robin quipped from the other side of the gate, “He’ll tell you the whole heroic story. Nancy, come on.”

You turned around to look at Nancy, who was standing behind you – and your heart ceased its beating, sinking like a stone to the bottom of a lake when you saw that your friend’s face had gone slack.

And Nancy’s eyes…they had turned the eerie white of freshly fallen snow.

“No,” you breathed. “No, no –“

Steve was already at your side, his hands coming up to grasp Nancy’s shoulders. She looked so frail and small in his grip as he shook her, gently, her head lolling with the movement.

“Vecna,” you breathed. “He got her.

“MUSIC!”, Steve screamed. “WE NEED MUSIC!”

“I got music!”, Eddie shouted.

And if the horror in Eddie’s wide eyes as he watched Nancy’s lifeless form, frozen in place like a statue, was any indication, his memory was taking him back to the late evening a few days ago, to Chrissy Cunningham, her bones snapping in the very same spot Nancy was standing in right now.

It was strange, how the chaos that ensued still felt as if time were warped, freezing one second as if wading through slick mud and rushing the next, the way it did on a roller coaster.

While all hell broke loose on the other side of the gate in the Rightside Up, with the Sinclair siblings, Max, Dustin and Robin frantically scouring Eddie’s room for music, hysteric shouts and clatters ringing though the air in the distance, the silence which had settled over the dark mirror version of the Munson trailer’s living room was that of a graveyard at midnight.

There was Steve, his hands on Nancy’s arms, shaking her. His quiet, frantic pleas to stay with him, to come back, drifted through the toxin-laced air to weave with the slow flurry of white particles while Eddie and you stood frozen in place.

Utterly helpless.

Watching.

Waiting for your friends in the Rightside Up to deliver the cure to break the curse.

And before you could set in motion to do something, anything, to help Nancy…there was a noise.

Of…hail pelting down on the trailer’s roof, against the walls.

Steve whirled around, his hands falling away from Nancy’s shoulders as the three of you stood frozen in your places, listening. There were tears streaming down your friend’s face, smearing the dirt on his cheeks and leaving glittering tracks in the dim crimson light of the pulsing gate above.

“I think they found us,” Steve murmured, frantically scanning the ceiling.

And Eddie’s gaze, his dark eyes wide with terror, met yours before he breathed, “Shit.”

As if on cue, the kitchen window burst with an ear-splitting noise of shattering glass and a screech that made your blood freeze as Eddie ripped you to the floor with him, behind the cover of the kitchen counter.

And in a rain of glittering shards, something flung itself into the room.

There was a movement as Eddie leapt to his feet, a roar ripping from him as, with a motion so swift your mind barely caught up with what was happening, something silver flashed in the dim crimson light before the eerie, blood-curdling screech was silenced and the thing thudded to the ground with a sickening wet squelching sound. Right in front of your feet.

And you realized what it was.

Leathery wings splayed, gaping maw open in a silenced death cry, baring rows upon rows of pointed fangs as long as sewing needles.

A bat. A twisted, disfigured nightmarish version of a bat.

You recognized it in an instant.

How could you not? You’d seen this kind of creature in your dreams every night for the past four months.

A swarm of wings and talons and teeth pouncing down from the bleeding crimson skies, their shrieks filling the air like a chorus of distorted voices as it mingled with another scream, filled with agony and so horribly, horribly familiar because it was Eddie’s scream, from amidst the storm of these monstrous creatures –

A yelp tore from your lips as the beast jerked up, jaws open – before the silver blade flashed again, piercing right through its open maw to pin it to the ground beneath, wings flailing one last time before it stilled. This time, for good.

“You okay, monster slayer?” Eddie was panting, but his voice was soft.

No.

And neither are you, Eddie.

Horror freezing you in your spot, you looked up to meet Eddie’s eyes.

He was standing above the bat, his fist clamped around the kitchen knife still half-raised to strike again should the need arise. The beast’s blood was splattered in a line across Eddie’s face, the front of his Hellfire shirt, the substance as black as ink in the pulsing crimson light of the gate gaping overhead like a festering wound.

In the eerie dim light, Eddie’s wide eyes, crazed with adrenaline, were as black as the monster blood smeared across his pale cheeks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stared down at you, still huddled on the floor. He looked as surprised about what he’d just done as you were.

“I don’t think I’m the monster slayer anymore,” you breathed.

For a split second, there was the flash of a proud little grin on Eddie’s face as he looked down at you, looking like one of the heroes in his D&D campaigns.

Then, the moment was over.

“WATCH OUT!”, Steve’s frantic scream pierced the air and made you start as, with a cacophony of blood-curdling shrieks and booming thuds like rocks pelting down from the skies filling the air, more of these creatures pounced down on the trailer; the roof, the walls –

“WINDOW!”, Eddie screamed as both of you darted forwards, towards the shattered kitchen window, and Eddie ripped a plastic cutting board from its place in the sink, pressing it against the frame of the broken window, just big enough to cover it – and not a second too soon.

You jumped to help him, your hands splaying on the plastic beside his to keep the cutting board in place and the window sealed against the force of those beasts pressing against it, trying to find their way inside with a cacophony of hooked talons scratching the other side of the cutting board mingling with the thuds of wings, of the eerie high-pitched shrieks of these creatures.

Your head whipped around to Steve. He’d positioned himself in front of Nancy’s frozen form, eyes screaming murder, the floor lamp he’d grabbed from the living room corner raised in his hands like a sword.

“Shit,” Eddie breathed, “Shit, shit –“

“Eddie,” you whispered. You were scared. So goddamn fucking scared.

For Nancy, ensnared in Vecna’s curse. And for him.

Because of all you’d seen in your nightmares, the images of these horrible creatures tearing Eddie to ribbons night after night after night while there was nothing you could do but watch and scream –

“It’s gonna be okay,” Eddie choked out, tears of panic brimming in his own eyes as they locked on yours, both of you pressing yourselves against the cutting board, “We’re gonna make it outta here, ‘kay?”

He needed to know the truth.

He needed to know what he was up against, because in omitting the horrible truth, leaving him in the dark…you’d turned him into a sitting duck.

“Eddie –“

“THEY FOUND THE OTHER WINDOW!”, Steve’s shout cut you off.

In all the chaos, neither of you had thought about the living room window.

You were rats in a trap.

“The bathroom!”, Eddie screamed at Steve, as the first of these things pelted against the pane of the living room window, cracks already creeping over its surface, growing, spreading.

It wouldn’t hold them at bay much longer.

“What? No! I can’t leave –“

“STEVE, DO IT!”, you screamed, “NANCY NEEDS YOU!”

“WHERE IS THE GODDAMN MUSIC?!”, Steve roared at the gate above – but if your friends had heard, their answer was swallowed by the cacophony of screeches and thuds, of scratching talons and wings slapping against the outside of the trailer.

“We’ll take my room!”, Eddie shouted over the noise, “Grab Wheeler and GO!”

And this time, Steve obliged.

Just as the living room window burst, and a swarm of monster bats flooded the space.

A scream ripped from your throat. The cutting board clattered to the ground as Eddie grabbed your arm, pulling you with him as you watched this sea of wings and hooked claws and razor-sharp fangs darting towards you like a monstrous tide, swallowing the silhouette of Steve who was carrying Nancy, still frozen in Vecna’s cursed grip – until the door to Eddie’s bedroom slammed shut to block your vision, not a second too soon.

The noise was deafening as those creatures pelted against the door with enough force to make it rattle precariously in its hinges, sending you stumbling backwards, a gasp escaping you as Eddie gently grasped your shoulders to pull you farther away from the door.

It wouldn’t keep them out forever.

It probably wouldn’t even keep them out for the next few minutes.

You whirled around to face Eddie.

The tears of panic streaming down his face were smearing the bat’s black blood, the contrast stark against his pale skin, and the terror in his eyes was as raw as the one hacking freezing talons into your own chest, spreading the numbness of shock through your limbs as adrenaline flooded your system.

You needed to tell him the truth. About the door and the bats. Now. To warn him, if it wasn’t too late already.

Eddie’s hands found yours, fingers lacing together as he squeezed gently, and you could feel the tremors of panic running through him, when his gaze met yours.

“Eddie,” you choked out, your voice barely audible above the havoc of bats pouncing down on the door, “I need to tell you something.”

“Does – uh. Does it have time for a few more minutes?” Panic was shaking his voice when he tore his eyes away from yours to frantically scan his room for something to use as a weapon, anything –

“No,” you pressed, “Listen. You need to listen to me now, please.”

And something in your trembling voice made Eddie’s attention snap back to you.

Gathering all your courage, you breathed, “There are things. Things I haven’t told you because I’ve been scared –“

“Things. Things, like –“

“These…these bats. I’ve seen them before.”

“Seen –“

Eddie cut himself off as his gaze drifted down, a whispered, “What the…,” leaving him while his expression went slack with…horror.

And when you followed his gaze down, to your joined hands, fingers laced with Eddie’s, bile rose in your throat.

Veins, writhing black veins, were spreading beneath the skin on your fingers, over the backs of your hands, wandering up your arms like creeping vines.

You hadn’t seen them for a while.

But they were back.

And Eddie…Eddie could see them, too.

Which meant that this time, they were no hallucination.

They were real.

And you realized with horror that maybe…they’d always been.

“Jesus Christ –“

Eddie’s hands let go of yours as if the contact of your skin had burned him, his bottom lip trembling as he slowly shrunk backwards.

Away from you.

From the writhing veins spreading beneath your skin like stains of ink, revealing the ugly truth beneath. Shining the brightest spotlight on everything you’d so desperately tried to hide from him – and from yourself.

Baring all your ugly truths before Eddie.

“Eddie –“

“Jesus Christ –”

“I wanted to tell you,” you whispered, your hands falling to your sides.

The veins were spreading up your arms now, growing beneath your skin until they would cover you whole. “Eddie, you need to –“

“No.”

And when his eyes met yours…they were void of all the warmth and softness and affection shining within them only seconds ago, replaced by raw, overpowering terror and heartbreak.

“You,” he whispered as he stumbled backwards, the thundering noise of those bats trying to get into the room nearly drowning out his voice.

This beautiful voice which had lulled you to peaceful sleep so many times, had whispered the sweetest confessions into your ears when you’d been in his arms, beneath his hands, underneath a November night sky full of glittering stars.

There was nothing left of that softness in his voice now. It had sharpened, a cold, honed blade as he whispered, “It’s been you. All this goddamn time…it’s always been you.”

“Wha – no. No, Eddie, that’s not –“

“Don’t.” His voice was trembling like his hands at his sides, “Don’t come near me.”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” you whimpered. “Eddie, please, you need to listen to me. These bats –“

“Listen?”, he choked out, the tears streaming down his face, dripping onto the fabric of his Hellfire shirt, “All this goddamn time I’ve been running from monsters when the monster I should’ve run from was beside me all along.”

And his face contorted in pain as another thought clawed its way into his mind.

“You killed them”, he breathed. “You killed Chrissy –“

“No. NO!”

“- and Fred, and Patrick –“

“No! I had nothing to do –“

“How many more lies are you going to tell him, little liar?”, an echoing whisper cut you off. A whisper in your mind, of a thousand crooning voices becoming one. A voice you hadn’t heard since that horror-filled summer night of screams and blood and fire. “You let us in. You opened the door.”

“I didn’t want to do it,” you sobbed, sinking to your knees. “I didn’t know –“

“You were right.” There was pain, so, so much pain in Eddie’s voice, a sob more than a whisper. “I never knew you.”

You couldn’t reply. The tears were choking you, muting you.

He was right. Of course he was. And you’d known it all along.

Eddie’s trembling hands came up to rake through his messy dark curls, a flurry of white particles falling from the strands as his back thudded against the wall, as far away from you as possible. “That’s why you told me to run when a gate opened in my goddamn kitchen ceiling.”

“No –“

His voice was shattering as he choked, “Did you have a good laugh when I called you monster slayer?”

No. No, no –

“Did you have a good laugh when you kissed me? When you broke my fucking heart?” There was disgust lacing with the agony in his voice at the thought of all the things he’d done with you.

With a monster.

And Eddie sunk to the ground, his knees hitting the old rug he’d sat on so many times as he’d coaxed lullabies from his beloved guitar to help you fall asleep in his bed, all those Saturday afternoons, so you could get a few hours of peaceful slumber, had played until his fingertips hurt from pulling the strings of his guitar while he’d turned metal song after metal song into slow, lilting ballads.

His tears were falling faster now, voice barely more than a choked whimper as he breathed, “You planned it all so well. So, so well. Better than any Dungeon Master could ever have.”

“W-what?”

“Frame the freak for your murders,” he choked, shaking his head, sending his messy curls flying. “The weirdo everyone was always wary of, anyways.”

How many times could a heart shatter and still continue beating?

How many times could you feel like breaking apart into a million pieces and still stay breathing?

It felt like being back in the frozen depths of Lover’s Lake all over again. Forcing their way down your throat, into your lungs, numbing your body and senses as you were pulled down, down, down.

The only thing worse than Eddie’s words was the tone with which he whispered them.

Because there was still no hatred there. No rage or wrath. Only this pitch-black, abysmal grief when he repeated, “When did you come up with the idea to frame the freak?”

You wanted to protest. Wanted to tell him how wrong he was, that everything you’d done had been to protect him.

That you loved him.

That you would do everything, give everything, to make sure he was safe.

“I can’t even blame you,” Eddie whispered hollowly, and your head snapped up as he spat the next words. “I should’ve known. The freak getting set up by the cheerleader asking him out. The song remains the same. You just changed the goddamn lyrics.”

And then they were there.

Bursting through the door that ripped from its hinges. Flooding through Eddie’s window in a glittering hailstorm of shattering glass. Overflowing from the ventilation duct on the ceiling.

A sea of leathery wings slapping your face, talons scratching your cheeks as the scream leaving your lips to form his name fused with Eddie’s agonized scream when the monstrous tide of bats crashed down on him.

[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.

THE UPSIDE DOWN]

One of the earliest memories Eddie Munson had of his childhood was a sunny July afternoon.

Back in Little River, Louisiana, where the summers had been scorching and humid, with swarms of mosquitos infiltrating the air like thunderclouds. The climate, though, had been the only difference between Little River and Hawkins. The shallow-mindedness, the fear of everything that was different, the bullying…they were the same in every small town, Eddie figured.

The song remains the same, as his old man always used to drawl.

It had been the summer after Eddie’s first year in elementary school – and it would be his last summer in Little River.

And while the other dads were spending the scorching summer days teaching their sons to ride a bike, throw a ball, catch a fish in the countless lakes dotting the landscape; with hikes and camping trips and on the hunt, Richard Munson taught Eddie how to fix cars.

Always different cars. Big and small ones, in all colors of the rainbow, and they were always taken away again by scary, scruffy looking men placing stacks of dollar notes in his dad’s greasy hands. He called them pirates. Eddie found it quite fitting, with the bandanas on their heads. Neither of them had an eye-patch, though, which he found a bit disappointing. He also recalled how scared he’d been of these pirates.

That’s how the summer had looked like until that afternoon.

And that’s why Eddie so vividly remembered the giddy, bubbly happiness he’d felt, like drinking too much Sprite on an empty stomach, when his dad had announced he’d take him on a treasure hunt.

A real one.

But when his old man had taken Eddie to the nearest town with him that night, Eddie had realized with growing unease that this was not what he’d thought a treasure hunt would be like. Not at all.

The noise of the car’s windowpane shattering beneath the force of the brick had scared him, but his dad had patted his head and told him it was okay, before he’d climbed into the car that wasn’t his, and waved for Eddie to follow. He remembered his palms being so clammy that the pair of pliers his dad had given him had nearly slipped from the grip of his little fists when he’d climbed onto the passenger seat of the car that didn’t belong to them.

“Pay attention,” his dad had drawled with that heavy southern accent of his while he’d pointed at a colorful knot of cables he’d ripped from the car’s dashboard like the guts of a fish, “Next time, you’ll do it.”

“Is this allowed?”, Eddie had asked. He still remembered how scared and small his voice had sounded, and how he’d been ashamed of that because his dad was this big, strong man, and Eddie didn’t want to be frail and small beside him.

“We make our own rules, pal,” his dad had snickered, taking a swig from the little flask he’d always carried on his belt. His magic potion for adults, as he’d always called it.

The world of Richard Munson had been a world full of magic. Of treasure hunts and magic potions, of pirates and glittering white pixie dust in tiny plastic bags. That stuff makes you fly like Peter Pan, his dad had always laughed, but keep away from it. When you fly, you’ll always fall back on your ass as well. Which was a bit funny, because his dad had fallen pretty hard only weeks later.

“Our own rules,” Eddie had repeated with a solemn little nod, feeling as if he were being let in on a secret, something to share with his dad. One took what they could get.

And then, Richard Munson had taught his son how to hotwire a car.

And when the red-and-blue lights of the patrol car rounding the corner of the filthy street had flared to light the night like the Fourth Of July fireworks Eddie had loved to watch from the roof of his dad’s camper, his dad had whirled around, his hands grabbing Eddie’s bony shoulders so hard they’d left bruises as he’d snapped, “Run.”

And Eddie had run.

It felt like ever since that night, Eddie had never stopped running.

He’d run when, a few weeks later, stern looking people in suits had knocked on the camper’s door to take him away from Little River, to a town called Hawkins and a stranger called Wayne Munson who, according to the stern people, would now be taking care of him.

When all the other sophomores had started their weekend jobs at ice cream parlors and movie theaters and record stores, Eddie had run from those boring things to sell drugs because it was so much easier than dragging himself out of bed every Saturday at sunrise.

He’d run from graduation, because he was scared of the future ahead.

He’d run when Chrissy Cunningham’s bones had snapped on his kitchen ceiling, one by one, leaving the poor girl there for his poor uncle to find which hadn’t been fair to any of them, because Wayne Munson had been the one to teach Eddie how to ride a bike, throw a ball and catch a fish, the one who’d patted his head and told him it was okay when he was failing school for the second time and who’d given the only room of his trailer to Eddie.

Eddie had run from the cops and from Jason Carver, and he would have run and left Steve Harrington to drown at the bottom of Lover’s Lake hadn’t he been too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind.

What Eddie Munson regretted the most, though, wasn’t any of the times he’d run.

It was the one time he hadn’t run.

Because deep down in his heart, Eddie wondered…if he had run after his monster slayer that November night, would it have changed anything? If he had washed his pride down the drain and run after you into the freezing winter air to tell you those three little words he should have told you between the kisses you’d shared on the roof of his trailer, would it have changed anything?

Eddie would never know.

Because he hadn’t run after you.

He’d stayed behind, with tears rushing down his face before he’d done what he’d sworn to himself he never would: he’d knocked himself out with a dose of Special K. Had let the ketamine soothe the raging hurricane in his mind and dull the sharp edges of your cruel words playing on repeat in his head and numb the agony in his broken heart for a few blissfully blacked-out hours.

All these things flitted though his mind in the fragment of a heartbeat now when Eddie turned around, his hand already extended to help you climb the makeshift rope of old bedsheets hovering in the rip between realms and join Robin and Nancy and the kids who were waiting in the safety of the other side.

His gaze locked on yours.

And his heart stopped.

All the color had drained from your eyes, the beautiful vibrant shade of your irises leeched and faded to an eerie white, the color of the pixie dust his old man had been selling all those years ago.

White like Chrissy’s eyes had been in the seconds before her bones had snapped like twigs.

With your name leaving Eddie’s lips in a strangled cry, his hands came up to grasp your shoulders.

Numbing terror unlike anything he’d ever felt before spread through him while the world seemed to freeze as one of the white particles floating through the air like ashes drifted down and caught in your lashes, illuminated by the crimson light falling down from the gate, pulsing like a heart of darkness.

And in the sudden shell-shocked silence, Eddie’s strangled whisper sounded as loud as thunder.

“He got her. Vecna got her.”

▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎

-----

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | What a ride. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And I hope you can forgive me the cliffhanger...I promise the next chapter will make up for all the heartbreak! I’ll try to have it ready for Wednesday/Thursday so you won’t have to wait a full week to learn what happens next; and it looks like there will be thirteen chapters all in all (bonus chapters aside). Thank you so much for all the love and support for this series so far. It means more than I could put into words ♡

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things eddie #eddie munson fix it fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #joe quinn

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pxrxcxa · 2 years

Text

Boy next door

✶ One shot

Pairing | Eddie x fem reader

Post summary | Eddie catches and interrupts his neighbour during her ‘alone time’, - so he promises that he won’t tell anyone about what he saw if she lets him watch her finish.

What to expect | 18 + so minors DNI, Perv!Eddie, Dom!Eddie. ‘O’ denial. Some degrading language ( he calls you a slut once and then it’s sweetheart from then on out)

Post Warnings | Pure Smut.

Word count | 3.5 K Word Count.

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿

Authors Note | you guys have no idea what a pain in the ass it is to write this in my fking notes app - so I really hope you enjoy and appreciate this 😂😭😭 I could never stop writing for you all though 😏🥺

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The whirring sound increased as my shaking hand slid the button on the sex toy between my legs up to the second level, making my head dig into the mattress as my shoulders arched into the air. Overwhelming pleasure shot up through my frame as I pressed the vibrating head into my slit harder, rolling it back and forth over my throbbing bud that was begging for more.

The thin, aging walls of the trailer didn’t offer much recluse, but I couldn’t help myself. My neighbour, long time friend and recent star of my never ending sex dreams - Eddie Munson had joined my roommates and I to watch our weekly horror movie on the floor of our small living room last night. The fat joint passed between our lips had hindered my thoughts, stealing my attention from the low budget effects of blood and gore spread across our small static tv screen.

My legs curled up against my stomach as the toy slipped between my weeping folds, vibrations flamed throughout the lower half of my body as my hand moved to pinch at my hardened nipples, imagining that my soft warm hands were strong, deft fingers covered in bulky silver rings instead. The images of yesterday flashed to the fore front of my mind as I writhed mercilessly under my own arm, pretending that our movie night finished in a different ending.

Eddie was lounged across the floor on his back beneath where I was curled up on our rickety couch opposite my room mates cuddling on the other end of it, my eyes had raked the solid planes of his body as I took advantage over his attention glued to the screams and murderous sounds screeching from the tv set. I’d been fine until he’d raised his arms above his head, exposing a milky white strip of skin above the belt of his jeans as he rolled his hips into the air.

I’d stopped breathing as the rise and fall of his chest made the line of his pants fall lower, unmasking a dark line of a snail trail that disappeared into its beckoning depths. I’d clutched the thin blanket draped around my legs closer to me, sure that the throbbing between my thighs had its own beacon as I tried to hide my struggle.

Eddie, damn him, had no idea about his hold on me as he turned his face to the side and gave me a cheeky half smirk, raising his eyes brows in a ‘you all good’ silent question.

No I wasn’t ‘all good’, and as his biceps flexed as he placed his hands behind his head and ran his tongue over his lips, turning back to the screen, I’d wanted to run down the hall, rip my vibrator from where it was plugged in charging beside my bed, and pretended once again the the silicone toy was Eddie running his tongue along my wet pussy and his hands wrapping around my neck.

It had felt like forever before the screen turned black and my roommates rose from the couch with groans and muttered goodbyes as they headed to bed. I’d hesitated to stand up with them, scared the the growing throbbing between my legs as I struggled to keep my eyes off Eddie, had soaked through the thin fabric of my pyjama shorts.

He’d saved me the embarrassment by leaving first, I swore I’d practically jumped out of my skin as he reached up to grip my knee as he launched up from the ground, using my leg to push off as he stumbled to his feet.

Eddie, completely oblivious to the turmoil I was suffering under his gaze, had just held out his fist and smiled goodbye as he headed home to his trailer across the road. As soon I closed the door behind him and slid the lock into place, I tripped over my feet in my hurry to get to my room, lightening my footsteps as I passed my roommates room directly next to mine.

They had the decency to keep it quiet when I was around, so it was with deep loathing and effort, that I shut my vibrator away until I was alone and made do with my fingers.

It just wasn’t as good though, I hadn’t been able to make myself finish, even with the vivid mental picture of Eddie hovering above me and whispering about all the dirty things he wanted to do with me, raging though my mind as my finger tips slipped against the wetness between my folds, rolling harshly over my throbbing clit as I tried to force my orgasm.

I’d wanted to scream with frustration as it evaded me, so as soon as I’d heard my housemates ancient car roar to life at the crack of dawn, I’d snatched the pink wand from my side table draw and had it between my thighs as I wriggled out of my panties.

The instant pleasure as I hastily held down the on button and held my breath impatiently, flooded me in a way I’d never felt before as I played in my mind from the beginning, the sexual fantasy I’d conjured up of my neighbour.

My head lolled back as my vibrator sent a zapping throughout my frame, making every muscle in my body clench as I pressed the toy harder against my clit, almost painfully as the sensations in my nerves electrified. My abdomen coiled in the familiar release as the buzzing deepened, screaming out in protest as I pushed it past its limits.

Slick dripped down my thighs and between my folds, drenching the sheets beneath me as my breathing turned to gasps and stars burst behind my closed eyes.

I was close.

So fucking close.

My arms began to shake as I gripped the vibrating hilt with two hands, my back arched off the bed as I curled up in the air. The distant sound of a wire door smacking back on it’s hinges broke through my concentration, and panic shot through me before I remembered that my roommates were at work for at least a couple more hours and I’d definitely locked the door anyway, I knew the walls were as thin as paper and it was probably just the deaf old women next door.

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and ignored it, picturing Eddie’s rough fingers gliding over my thighs and lightly playing with my aching pussy, he’d glance up at me with his cheeky half smile and make some witty comment about how wet I was. I groaned and rolled my hips up against the vibrator, tensing as my impending orgasm crept up like a tsunami wave.

“Eds…” I mumbled into the crook of my arm, gasping and biting into the soft patch of skin there as I jolted.

“Ahh fuck Eddie.” My free hand that trembled, rushed lightly as a feather across my skin to crush the sides of my throat, the lack of air adding the mounds of pleasure.

“Hey y/n you got a lighter I can borrow - fuck”

“EDDIE” my scream wasn’t in pleasure, but in shock as my bedroom door flung open to reveal my thoughts in real time. The joint he’d held up in anticipation tumbled to the floor as his hands shot up to cover his face, his cheeks tuning a deep red beneath his fingers.

I’d thrown the vibrator away in my surprise as I scrambled to rip up the loose sheets to cover my half naked body and the incriminating scene, it fell between the wooden side panel of my bed and chest of draws where it buzzed embarrassingly louder then ever. With a stream of horrified “oh my god”s I reached down and fumbled with the off button for an ungodly amount of time, hiding in my hair as a bundle of profanities rushed to my lips.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” I screeched, sitting up into a crossed legged position as I chanced a glance at him, his face was screwed in what I panicked was disgust as his tongue ran over his lips.

“I needed a lighter - what are you doing!” He shot back, hovering in the door way as his feet shuffled back and forth uncertainly.

“Gardening genius, what does it look like?” My usual sarcasm dripped through to mask my horror at being caught.

“I - uh - well. Is it safe now?” His words made me blush deeply.

“Yes oh my god Eddie, it’s safe.” I breathed a half hearted laugh as he peaked through his fingers, lowering his hands as he avoided my gaze.

“I uh um knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear me.” His eyes raked over my scarcely hidden body beneath the flimsy sheet, before flashing away quickly when I caught his stare lingering.

“How did you even get in here? The door was locked.” I scolded, tightening the cotton fabric under my arms.

“It was.” He grinned, shrugging his shoulders at his invasive antics.

There was a loaded pause that hung heavy in the air between us as my breathing slowed and his stance relaxed slightly. My thighs slipped against each other from the slick pooling between my legs as I fidgeted, chagrin flowing through me over my vulnerable position.

“Okay… well there’s a lighter on my desk that you can keep Ed’s.” I waved my hand towards the corner of my room, watching his hands flex at his sides.

But still, he didn’t move.

“I… heard you.” He admitted, his sheepish grin crinkling his eyes as mine shot up to meet them.

“What?” I exclaimed, embarrassment choking me.

“I heard what you said… or moaned I guess.” He crossed his arms as he leant against the open door frame.

“Oh my god Eddie I didn’t mean for you to-“

“Yea that’s right. ‘Eddie’, I heard you.” He nodded his head with a smirk as I stared back in shock, speechless.

“Hey I mean it’s okay. But do you wanna tell me what that’s about?” His smile slid from his face as I sat motionless and silent like I could melt through the wall behind me to disappear.

“… or not. I just thought that there might be something you wanted to tell me.” He shrugged his shoulders down at me again, laughing as he hesitated in the doorway, his usual confident cockiness returning the longer I trembled under his stare.

Maybe there was, and maybe under different circumstances where booze and drugs were involved, I would admit to him that he and those dammed dark eyes were what kept me up at night, but I’d be dammed if I was going to tell him right now when he had the upper hand.

“Screw you Munson.” I snapped, the last lingering fragments of my embarrassment leaving my body and anger replacing it.

“You better not say anything to anyone or EVER bring this up to me” I groaned, covering my blazing face with my hands.

“Wanna make a deal?” His voice was gruff and filled with something unfamiliar to me. I stole a quick peek at him through my fingers before hiding away again.

“Whatever… I just figured that you didn’t get to finish and you might want to.” I didn’t stop to consider his words and their meaning behind them before I bit back at him.

“Yeah well maybe when I get a fucking moment of privacy I will.” My frustration made my retort flow easier.

“Can I watch?”

“What?”

“Can I watch you finish?” His words were slow and precise, so that I didn’t miss a single syllable. His eyes flashed with something sinister as I gasped, staring down at where my fingers loosened around the sheet gripped to my chest. He waited patiently for my answer, standing frozen as a flurry of emotions played across my face.

“That’s the deal. Take it or leave it. I get to watch you finish… or I’m walking up and down the entire trailer park with a banner telling them what a dirty, horny slut y/n is.” His smirk was so cocky and confident, like he already knew my answer.

My fantasy - or something very close to it - was coming to life, and for the first time in mine, I didn’t have a witty comeback.

I searched his face to see if he was serious, nerves fluttering through me as my clit throbbed excitedly. He stared back unchangingly, almost waiting for permission as I sat undecidedly.

His dark raging eyes, as they ran over my entire body like he was seeing me - really seeing me- for the first time, made the choice for me.

I blindly reached out beside me as my gaze never left his to fumble for the cold metal I tossed away earlier, Eddie’s Adams apple rolled nervously as I uncrossed my legs and leaned back against the pillow, stretching out as the sheet fluttered and rested over the curves of my body.

With shaking hands I held back down on the on button, quickly hiding it beneath the white fabric that protected me from Eddie’s prying eyes.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

That Eddie was standing right there and watching me get myself off. I felt like I should have been more embarrassed and cautious, but as I moved the pulsing vibrator back between my legs, all my inhibitions were thrown out the window. I tossed my head back as I grinded my hips down into the mattress, letting my lips form into an ‘o’ as my nose scrunched.

My orgasm had slipped through my fingers before, but as I ran the sex toy up and down my folds, collecting the wetness that pooled beneath me, it rushed back without failure. As I let the first unintentional gasp fall past my lips, I heard Eddie’s sneakers brush against the carpet.

He’d moved, almost like he didn’t mean to, to stand at the end of the bed between my legs, his hand had travelled down the bulge beneath his straining jeans, palming against his hardness. His eyes - flaring with intimidating urgency - flashed up to meet mine as I faltered beneath the sheet.

“I said ‘watch’ sweet heart, y’ain’t exactly putting on a show here.” His words shot through me like a knife of toxicity, they should have made me end the whole thing there, but it spurred me forward.

Erotic moans and whimpers passed my lips with ease - almost porn worthy as I tried to prove his teasing wrong - as I let the cotton fabric slip down my chest, a deep growl rose in Eddie’s chest as I wrapped my fingers around my hard nipple, pulling and twisting as pleasurable pain shot through me. I hissed as the vibrations made my pussy scream in frustration as I shakily slid the toy up to its highest setting.

I’d thrown my head back so I didn’t see him, but I felt the mattress groan and roll under his weight as he kneeled on the end of it between my covered legs. I snapped my eyes open in surprise and accusations as he hesitated, a moment of clarity flashing across his face as I shook beneath him. He had his fist clenched around a hand full of the sheet besides my knee, his gaze probing mine in a consentful question as he waited patiently.

I nodded ever so slightly as I bit my lip and anticipation curled within me, Eddie didn’t spare a second as he tore the sheet off of me, letting it flutter to the ground behind him as his eyes devoured the sight of me melting beneath him.

I snapped my thighs closed with a wet slap as his stare traced down my naked body, with a feather light touch as the vibrator blared between us, he tranced his fingers down my legs, allowing me plenty of time to tell him to stop. But his hands didn’t move towards mine like I thought - like I wanted him to - instead they moved across the shivering skin of my knees, curving down my soft calves as his fingers hooked around my panties trapped between my ankles.

My gasp of shock was stolen from me as the invisible coil tightened inside of me, Eddie ripped the leopard print fabric and brought it to his face, inhaling deeply as his eyes rolled back in his head. The sight of him doing something do dirty almost had me falling to pieces right then and there.

“Fuck you smell so good y/n, wanna taste you. Maybe later, you need to finish.”

“Ahhh fuck Eddie - I can’t I can’t.” Yes I could, my moan of protest was more referring to how I couldn’t handle what he was doing to me, it was all too much. He was still completely dressed and had barely touched me but I was still coming undone at the sight of him. The coil tightened even further as the body wrecking end rushed towards me. I practically screamed as Eddie flung himself over me.

“I can.” He grunted against my bare skin. All manners were forgotten as he sat back up and hooked my right leg over his shoulder, his quick, experienced hands replacing mine as he buried the vibrator further against my glistening pussy.

I squeezed my eyes shut as the overwhelming pleasure wracked me and became the forefront of all my senses. Tears sprung to the corner of my eyes as he switched between pressing the silicone head against the oversensitive bud and cruelly ripping it away every time I tensed and bunched up.

“Oh fuck Eddie. PLEASE.” I screamed out, tearing at the sheets beside me as I grinded my hips up into the air pointlessly, finding no purchase as he held the vibrator high in the air teasingly.

“Not yet sweetheart.” He laughed against my ankle, turning his head to place a soft, wet kiss along my sensitive skin. But he relented, bringing it back down between my legs as I let out a thankful moan, the glowing, golden feeling threatening to drown me instantly. I gasped and shivered as I felt the tips of his fingers graze between my soaking folds.

He barely noticed the hold he had on me, he had brought my panties back to his nose as he rocked with the motions he was playing against my mound, groaning into the wet fabric as I reached out to wrap my hands around his wrist, swearing.

I felt a painful ache against my thigh as I glanced down, Eddie had started to hump against it, his large cock screaming against his tight jeans had left a wet patch there. I didn’t mind, in fact watching him use my body for his own means was single handedly hurtling me towards my orgasm at lightning speed.

I felt my fluttering walls throb and curl around nothing as it ripped through me, making me arch against the bed like I was in a scene from the exorcist. Bliss exploded through me as I screamed his name, each time he’d denied me my release and my frustrations from the last twenty four hours, made it that much more sweeter, it felt like it lasted for hours as the high finally came down and my vision cleared.

Eddie has dropped his grip from around my ankle, pressing my panties against his crotch as he thrusted forward faster against my leg, the bed rocked beneath us with his movements. With a final gasp he curled over my shaking frame, pulling my now cum soaked panties away from him to reveal a large, dark stain against his jeans.

His eyes filled with lust, flicked up to meet my awe struck ones as a smirk played on his lips. I stayed still - or at least couldn’t move - as he leant up to place a sweet kiss to my forehead, shoving the wet fabric between my shuddering lips. He laughed as an aftershock flinched through my body, the taste of our mixed essences flooded my mouth.

The lining of his jacket grazed my bare skin as he straightened up, I didn’t dare look at him as my body collapsed further against my bed, focusing on the crack in the ceiling above me as his voiced drifted through the roaring in my ears.

“I look forward to the next time I catch you sweetheart.”

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Also Readers - if anyone is looking for a slow burn Eddie x y/n, check out my Opposite Ends series.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie smut #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie fanfic #stranger things 4 #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson smut fic #eddie munson x you

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