#rip wheeler x female reader

[thebiggerbear]

Rip Wheeler Masterlist

(one shot and 2 prompt responses coming soon)

[fanficforlife]

Chapter Nine

Even though it was the middle of August, the air was cool. It probably had something to do with the fact that you were sitting on the back porch at four-thirty in the morning. 

"There you are, baby." Kayce sat down on the steps next to you. His arm slid around your back while he kissed your temple. "What are you doing out here?"

You looked ahead of you so he followed your gaze to a bald eagle sitting in a tree. Lee. His hold on you tightened. "I was talking."

"About what?"

"You," a smile pulled at your lips. A comfortable silence settled between you while you watched the bird fly off. "Lee knew I left California to get away from Nick. A few weeks before he died he found me sitting back here. The sun had just started coming up and he asked why I was up so early. I tried to hide it but he knew I was crying. He sat down and made me tell him what was wrong." You took a breath. "I get nightmares sometimes about Nick. Sometimes they're just memories of what he did, other times it's him finding me."

"Baby," the hand that wasn't around your waist reached for your hand, "why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't get them when we sleep in the same bed."

"You should move in with me then."

"Kayc."

"I know. Just me and Tate, for a while at least. Did you have a nightmare tonight?"

"No. I just woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. I didn't want to wake you." Your fingers played with the button on the cuff of his sleeve. "Lee always told me I was safe here." You let out a small giggle. "And, that even though you hadn't asked me out yet, you wouldn't let anyone touch me."

Kayce chuckled. "He was right about that. I wouldn't have let your ex or anyone else near you. I still won't." 

You smiled at him before looking out at the trees. 

"Letty?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you feel safe here?"

"Yes." Your eyes met his hazel brown ones. "You make me feel safe." 

He smiled and ran his hand across your jaw, pulling you in for a kiss. "I love you, Letty."

"I know." You smiled. "I love you too."

"I gotta drive around and check some fences. What do you say we grab some coffee and you come keep me company? And, instead of sleeping in your bed again because Tate wanted to spend the weekend having a sleepover with his grandpa, we could spend the night at my place?" 

"Yes and yes." 

"Tate will be here with Dad so we have the whole day and night to ourselves." His perfect grin formed before he kissed you. "Go get changed. I'll get the coffee." 

"Meet you in the kitchen in five minutes." 

After going inside, you both walked through the living room to the hallway. As you went to walk passed the kitchen to your room, he stopped you. "Baby, are you okay?"

You looked up at him and smiled softly. "You worry about me too much."

"I worry about you just as much as I should be. Now answer the question, beautiful." 

Your hands came up and rested against the sides of his neck, your thumbs running across his stubble-covered jaw. "I'm okay. Just missing your brother."

"Me too."

"He would be so proud of you, Kayce." 

"After kicking my ass for waiting so long to ask you out." 

You giggled. "Yeah, that's probably true." 

"Thank you for being there for me through that and every day since then." 

"You're welcome. But, you don't have to thank me. I wanted to and I needed you just as much as you needed me."

His hand ran across your cheek. "I still need you." 

"Right back at you." You rose to your toes and kissed him before going to change. 

*

You leaned against the fence post watching Kayce while he finished securing a section of barbed wire that he had to replace. 

"There," he straightened up, "that- What?" 

"Nothing."

"Nothin'?" He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. "What are you thinking about?" 

A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth. "You." You leaned back against him while you both looked out over the pasture to the mountains. 

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." 

"Is that all I'm gonna get?" He chuckled and turned you to face him. 

"I just..." your hands rested on his chest, "I can't believe I'm here with you. You are the most hardworking, caring, understanding man I have ever met." Tears pricked the back of your eyes. "I would go through everything in California again if I knew that it led me here." 

In response, he grabbed your face and kissed you. "I love you more than anything on this earth, Letty. Well, you and the kid." 

"I love you too." You giggled and slid your hands over his shoulders, clasping them behind his neck as your lips met his. When the kiss started to grow heated, you stepped back. "You need to work."

"I just finished the last one." 

"Yeah?"

The smirk that drove you crazy, in the best possible way, formed. "Yeah, now get back here." His hand slid into your hair pulling you in. As the kiss intensified, he picked you up and carried you to the tailgate of his truck. It was already down with tools sitting on it so he pushed them to the side before setting you on it. His eyes met yours and you smiled. 

While you unzipped and shimmied out of your jeans, he unbuckled his belt and pushed it down. "Kayc," you moaned when he slowly thrust into you. 

"Fuck, baby." His fiery eyes met yours. "You're fucking perfect."

Your hips rolled to meet his with every thrust. "Yes," you moaned when one of his hands left your hips and went between you to your clit. "Yes. Yes. Kayce." It didn't take long for heat to start pooling. 

When your orgasm had passed, he took your hands which had been gripping his shoulders and lay you on your back. "I want one more, baby." You nodded as you looked up at him, making the smirk you love form. He put your legs over his shoulders and started pounding into you. 

You could feel a rough section of the tailgate scrape your ass cheek but you didn't care. He had you at the perfect angle and you started to clench around him. "Oh, god. Kayce." 

"Yes, baby. Give me one more." His smirk reappeared. "Come for me, Letty." That put you over the edge and you fell apart. He came seconds later, spilling into you. 

"You good, baby?" He asked as you lay there trying to catch your breath. 

"Mhm," you mumbled with a smile. 

He chuckled and zipped his jeans up before putting your underwear and jeans on you as far as he could get them with you still lying down. 

After carefully getting to your feet, you pulled them up the rest of the way. 

"Hi." Kayce smiled down at you, his hands going to your waist. 

"Hi." Your fingers brushed his hair off his forehead. "That was...wow."

His smirk formed before he kissed you. "I'm gonna have to agree with you on that. Now get your sexy ass out of the way so I can clean up." 

You giggled as he squeezed your sides. "What do you have to do now?" You asked as you leaned against the side of his truck. 

"I gotta go to town to pick up a few things." He informed, closing the tailgate. "Where do you think you're goin'?" His hand wrapped around yours, stopping you from going around to the passenger side. 

"Maybe I don't want to sit beside you." You teased. 

He backed you against the truck and pressed himself against you, keeping you in place. "You don't, huh?" The smirk that drove you crazy formed.

"Don't look at me like that we both know because we both know what comes next." 

"You. Once, sometimes more." 

"Kayce!" You gave him a shove so you could slip free. 

His laugh followed you as you climbed into the truck. "You're cute when you blush." 

"Oh my god." You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder while he buckled his seatbelt. 

"Even cuter when you come."

Your jaw dropped as the red on your cheeks darkened. 

He reached across your lap when you tried sliding across the seat. "I'll stop." 

"Says the guy with the mischievous grin on his face." 

"Get back here." 

You gave in with a smile and settled in next to him. "You're lucky I love you."

"The luckiest." His lips pressed against your temple before he started the truck. 

When you got closer to town, you looked in the rearview mirror and started taming your hair. "You should leave it." 

"It's a mess."

"You have that just had sex look."

"I did just have sex."

"Yes," he squeezed your knee, "but everyone else will see it and know you're mine." 

You giggled, "I'm pretty sure everyone will know that without advertising what we just did. You always hold my hand when we go to town, or have your arm around me, your hand on my back." After smoothing the last tangled strand, you leaned back against the seat. "I'm guessing you don't hold Ryan or Colby's hand when you go to town to pick stuff up." 

"Definitely not." His laugh echoed through the cab. 

A comfortable silence settled between you as you rested your head on his shoulder and thought about how much your life had changed in the last seven and a half months. You escaped from Nick and the nightmare he put you through and ended up meeting a man so good you didn't think could even exist. Going through hell had brought you to the most amazing version of heaven on earth. And, you would endure it all over again so you could end up with the cowboy sitting beside you and his son. 

*

"What are you thinking about?" Kayce asked as he joined you on the porch of the foreman's house. You had made his mom's stew and biscuits for dinner so he offered to put the leftovers away. "You've been kind of quiet since I got back from helping Dad in the barn before dinner. I told you it would just be us today, I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. It's not that." 

"Then what is it?"

Your fingers picked at the cuff of your sleeve. "When you were with your dad and I was inside with Tate making the biscuits, Tate...he told me he loves me. He's said it before but it's always just been love you. When the biscuits were in the oven we were talking about what he and his grandpa did today. I was leaning back against the counter, when he was done telling me he came over and wrapped his arms around my waist. He looked up at me and he said I love you." Tears started to pool in your eyes while you stared down at the ends of your sleeves. "He told me he was happy I came here because I'm kind of like his mom. Then he rested the side of his face against my stomach and hugged me. He laughed and said I make you happy so you're not as grumpy anymore so I can never leave."

Kayce chuckled, "he's right, you do make me happy." When you continued staring at your hands, he took hold of your chin and lifted it, making you look at him. "Hey, talk to me." Concern was evident in his voice when he saw tears start to trickle from your eyes. "Was it because he thinks you're his mom? I'll tell him not to call you that."

"It wasn't that."

"Nick?"

You nodded as you drew in a shaky breath. "If he finds me he said he would kill whoever helped me."

"Baby, it's been almost eight months since you got away from him. He would have found you by now."

"But, what if he's still looking? What if he does eventually find me?"

"If he does, he's not going to get a chance to kill anyone."

"What if you're all gone and just me and Tate are here? What...Tate-" A small sob cut you off. 

Kayce wiped away your tears. "I know what you're thinking and you're not leaving. Tate loves you, I love you. Hell, everyone on this ranch loves you. You belong here." His fingers tucked your hair behind your ear before going back to try and dry your cheeks. "I'll tell you what. Tate's closet in the main house is five times bigger than it needs to be. Since we spend most of the time there anyway, especially you and him when I'm working, we'll close in part of the closet so he can hide in there. I'll make the door look like part of the wall so no one will know any different. Okay?"

You sniffed. "Okay." 

"Come here." You stood up and he guided you onto his lap so you were straddling him. His hand rested against the side of your neck. "Tate's not the only one who thinks you're kind of like his mom. You are beyond amazing with him. I know we've only been together for three months but I know that God sent you to me. We belong together, Letty."

"Kayce." A smile finally formed before you pressed your lips against his. It didn't take long before you both needed more. He stood up taking you with him and carried you to his bed. 

After setting you on your feet, his hands went to work on your jeans. As he pulled them down, his hand ran across the scrape you got from the tailgate making you flinch. "Did I scratch you?" When you both looked you realized what it was from. "Shit. I should've put a blanket or something down."

"It's not that bad... if you kiss it better it will be as good as new."

"I can't have my baby hurt." He smirked, sinking to his knees and doing what you said. But, he didn't stop there. He kissed his way across your hip before taking off your underwear and jeans and gently pushed you onto the bed. 

"Kayc," you moaned as he buried his face between your legs. 

His hands slid under your thighs and gripped your hips, securing you in place. "You taste so damn good." He groaned before going to work again. 

"Oh, god." After a couple of minutes of just using his tongue, one of his hands left your hip. His fingers dipped inside you while his mouth focused on the bundle of sensitive nerves. Your hands dove into his brown wavy hair. It took only minutes for your stomach to begin to tighten and waves of intense pleasure coursed through you. 

When you came down from your high, Kayce's lips crashed against yours. He ushered you backwards, away from the edge, so he could climb between your legs. You could taste yourself on him as his tongue danced with yours. 

He slowly thrust into you. His hand went to the back of your neck and he lifted you. "You're mine." His eyes pierced yours.

Whenever Nick told you that you were his it would make you feel hopeless and scared. Hearing Kayce tell you that you're his drove home the fact that this is where you were meant to be, with him and his son. "I'm yours." You breathed out, your eyes never leaving his. 

*****

You parked one of the Dutton's work trucks in front of the grocery store as a patrol car was making its way down the street. While you got out, the police car parked behind the truck, blocking you in. 

"Ma'am," one of them greeted as they walked up to you.

"Hi."

"Can I ask why you have the Dutton's truck?"

"I'm umm, getting groceries. I work for them." You swallowed nervously as memories of Nick in his police uniform filled your head. 

"We've never seen you around town before."

"I've been here since the middle of February."

"Uh-huh." They exchanged doubtful looks. Sweat covered your palms. "Can I see your license, please?"

Panic set in. "I-I didn't steal it."

He nodded. "Let me just run your license and we'll get this cleared up."

"You can call John. He'll tell you I work there."

"We will after we check your license. Is it in 

there?" He asked as he stepped forward and dumped the contents of your purse onto the driver's seat. You were frozen in fear. After opening your wallet, he pulled out your driver's license. "Well, Violet Smith from Los Angeles, I'll be right back."

Your heart rate was out of control, you were trembling. The officers could tell you were guilty of something so the other officer stood in front of you, corralling you between the open truck door and driver's seat, while the other went to the car. 

Seconds later, the officer returned from the car. "I think it's time you tell us your real name because it isn't Violet Smith."

"I-I-"

"Cuff her."

"No."

"Put your hands behind your back."

"Please. Just call John. Please!" Tears started falling from your eyes. 

Once the handcuffs were secured, the officer took hold of your arm and put you in the back of the car. People were standing around watching as the other officers locked the truck. After they both got in, they drove to the station. 

*

"No! No!" You pulled against the two officers who had uncuffed you and were trying to take your fingerprints. "Please, don't. Please!"

"What the hell is going on here?" Sheriff Haskell came out of his office. 

"We're trying to take her fingerprints but she's resisting."

"Please, don't. Call John Dutton. He'll tell you I work for him. Please!" You begged with tears streaming down your cheeks. 

The sheriff looked at you for a few seconds. "Put her in one of the cells."

"But, we haven't even started with the paperwork or anything yet."

"I'll take care of it." He took your license off the counter. "Just put her in a cell."

"Just call him, please. I'm not lying!"

The officers took you through a door and your pleas died off. They brought you down the hall, putting you in one of the cells that lined the wall. 

The door shut behind you with a clang, making you flinch. You went to the bench lining one wall, buried your face in your hands and cried. John would have to tell the sheriff who you were. Nick would come get you because he would see it on your file after the sheriff put your information into the computer. You mourned for the life you had here, for the friends you made, for the Duttons, for Tate. And, for Kayce. Nick would do whatever he wanted to you once he brought you back. But, the thought of never seeing Kayce again made your heart hurt so much that it was hard to breathe. Death would be better than having to live without him and his son.

*

"Where is she?!" Kayce's voice echoed down the hall. 

When you heard it, a sob left your lips knowing it was only a matter of days before you would never hear it again. 

"Violet!" As soon as the sheriff unlocked your cell, he flung the door open and ran in. You stood up and his arms wrapped around you, crushing you against him. You clung to his shirt as a fresh wave of tears spilled down your face. "I'm here, Letty. It's okay. You're coming home."

"N-Nick- He-he knows- I can't g-go back." 

"He doesn't know, baby."

You pushed on his chest so you could look up at him. "He will! My name-he-"

"He won't know you're here because your name is Violet Smith." John finished from where he and the sheriff were standing outside the cell. 

"But..." your eyes went to the sheriff.

"I've known John a long time." The sheriff informed. "He filled me in on everything. You're safe here, Violet. And, as far as the two who brought you in, and everyone else working here know, you're hiding from an abusive ex who's a cop, hence the fake ID. That's all they need to know." You looked at him unsure. "Nick and everything about your old life is safe with me. I won't be telling anyone." You gave a small nod of your head and a warm smile formed on his face. "I think it's time to get you out of there and back home." 

"Come on, baby." Kayce kissed your hairline before putting his arm around your waist and guiding you out. 

"I'm sorry, Vi," John said as he squeezed your shoulder. "I should've known it would be a matter of time before one of the knuckleheads working here stopped you."

"It's not your fault."

He smiled. "Let's get outta here."

*

The second you climbed into bed Kayce pulled you into his arms. You burrowed into him as close as you could get. "I was scared." He admitted into your hair after a couple of silent minutes. 

You shifted so you could look up at him. "You were scared? Nothing scares you."

"Losing you scares me." His brown eyes were watery. "The sheriff called Dad while we were working in the barn. All Dad said was it's you and to get in the truck. I think he drove faster than I've ever seen him drive before. If they would have booked you in...I would have been sitting in that cell right next to you." He slid his hand into your hair and rested his forehead against yours. "I can't lose you."

"I can't lose you either." You sniffed, fighting back tears. "I thought I would have to go back."

"Baby, you are never going to lose me. No matter what. And, he is never, ever getting you back. I love you with everything I am, Violet."

"Kayc," tears started trickling over, "I love you too." Your lips met but this one felt different than all of the other ones. This one captured the last lingering thoughts you had of having to leave, of not getting too close. He took them all along with the last brick you had guarding your heart and you gave yourself to him, all of you. This was your home and he was the man you were supposed to be with.

…………………………………………………………………………

@saintnourah

[itsstrange]

The Promise

Relationship: Rip Wheeler x Reader

Fandom: Yellowstone

A/N: A small idea I had while daydreaming at work, hope y’all like it. 🥹

Summary: Saying Goodbye Is Always The Hardest. So Is Keeping A Promise.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: (No) Angst, Mention of Military, Farewells, A Little Sad Moment, Angry Rip, Sad Rip, Arguments, Small Confessions.

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ENJOY 🐎

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“So… you’re really goin’ back?”

You look up, meeting his eyes before averting them back down to your duffel bag where you toss the stack of clothes inside. The clothes that have been folded, locked away underneath the bed for the past five years. The clothes you swore you wouldn’t wear again, wouldn’t dare to see until you had kids in the future to explain to them why you had a pile of clothes and photos locked away in some old worn trunk that dusted away underneath your bed.

Unfortunately it didn’t last to reach that day because here you are, packing away the clothes into your tactical duffel bag that was also locked away.

“How long?”

You inhale deeply through your nose before slowly exhaling, still not meeting their gaze you continue packing away, placing the frame photo of you and the boys in the center before zipping the duffel shut.

“Not sure.. too early to say,” You answer as you move the bag to the foot of the bed before sitting down,

“When do you leave?”

You swallow, feeling the way your chest tightens at the thought, “Tomorrow, before sunrise,”

Thick silence hovers the room. Everyone thinking and feeling the same thoughts, emotions.

“And why are you going back again?”

“Will you morons knock it off with the questions,” Lloyd’s husky voice bouncing off the wooden walls brings a small smile and a chuckle from you,

“A buddy of mine needs help,” You still answer Jimmy’s question, which he doesn’t respond with another mostly because he can see the way Lloyd gives him the look,

No other questions were sent your way, neither of them wanting a look from Lloyd as well, nor did they want you to dwell on the heavy mood that hovered. So instead, Ryan and Colby were the first to bring up a farewell party, change of topic. You kindly decline their idea, but of course neither men listens to you.

As Ryan and Colby begin listing items on what to bring for the farewell bonfire, and yelling at one another on who gets to keep your bunk (because it’s the closest one to the bathroom) you couldn’t help the small chuckle that falls from your lips. You were really going to miss every single person in this room. Despite them making you lose a few strands of hair from their idiotic actions, and constant bar brawls, you were surely going to miss them.

They made every other day interesting, every night annoying and fun at the same time with their childlike games that they come up with that sometimes leaves them with bruises or a chipped tooth. Everyday, every night, they made it special and you were definitely gonna miss it.

“Hey I’m not leaving just yet, I still got the whole day and the night before y’all start fighting over my bunk,” You say as you stand from the bed, punching both men on their shoulders,

They both share a laugh with you as they continue listing whatever alcohol they should buy, asking if you preferred hotdogs or burgers as you all walked out the house.

Saying goodbye to them was hard, but not as hard as it’s gonna be when you say it to him. Now that.. that will definitely break your heart. The look in his eyes when you tell him, you can already picture them and from the way your chest tightens, you know it’ll be difficult.

*******

You were currently feeding the rest of the horses inside the stables. Marking down the ones who needed a wash and a trim, which stables needed cleaning. Same old routine before having to check up on the rest of the animals, considering your main job at the ranch was analyzing and tracking the animals health. You weren’t exactly a veterinarian, but you learned a few things throughout the years which John persuaded you to take up on his offer of being in charge of the animals when it came to their monthly health checkups. So of course you took classes to advance your knowledge, to help around the ranch, make it easier for the old timer.

Yes he did have actual trained, experienced, veterinarians working on his animals before, but knowing how you easily picked up the job, how much love and care you gave to the livestock, he knew it was a good investment on both parts. Besides, he trusted you dearly in that department.

Hours had flown by, nearing six o’clock in the afternoon as you were finishing up in the stables before heading out to help Lloyd and the boys to check out some of the cows that were further up in the land. As well as putting up a new fence since the one hanging on was already rusting away due to the weather these past few days, as well as some idiotic trespassers cutting through the fence simply to test the Dutton family.

Just as you throw some fresh hay into one of the stables and patted the horse in its neck as he eats his dinner, the sound of loud rough boots marching against the ground ring in your ears.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” His loud, rough voice settles behind you, words firm as you dumped hay into the last stable,

You sigh, taking off your gloves and placing them in your back pocket before looking up at him. Eyes wide, angry, betrayal, and fear were written in them. Just like you pictured.

“Yes.. I was,”

“When? Tomorrow? When you leave apparently?” Betrayal can be heard in his voice, blue eyes confirming his tone,

“There hasn’t been a good time to let you know,” You tell him, voice calm, tired, heartbroken,

It wasn’t a lie. When he had gotten back from running an errand with Kayce you were determined to lay it on him, but things got hectic that you weren’t even able to spare him a word. It remained that way for the rest of the day, work after work, problem after problem, when lunch came around he wasn’t at the table eating his supper with everyone else, he was out with Dutton, doing the man a favor, so wanting to talk to him during lunch didn’t happen like you were hoping for.

You told yourself you’d let him know when he came back, but apparently he was out and about with Dutton for the rest of the day. So by the time he had came back was at this very moment, catching you feeding the horses inside the stables. Dutton must’ve told him at some point during their errand runs, who else could have? You weren’t annoyed it was your boss who gave him the news, but you were hoping it’d be you who told him because it came from you, no one else.

“Do you not remember what that place did to you?!” He harshly whispers, taking a step closer to you, “Cause I sure as hell can!”

You lower your gaze to the floor with a faint sigh at his words. Of course you remember. How can one forget something like that? The constant nightmares, the flashbacks, mood swings, not knowing what was real or not, the cold sweats, all of it you remember. The first few weeks of being home after being honorably discharged were rather difficult, your body knew it was home, safe, but your mind was still at war. Constant nightmares played in your in head, bullets flying everywhere, blood stains surrounding you, staining your hands and vest. Screams echoing in your mind on a daily from those who were gunned down, who were injured and were slowly bleeding out in your hands.

It was an everyday thing. The boys, Rip, would beg you to get help, to talk to someone, but you’d just shrug them off telling them you were fine, that it’ll pass.

But you were in fact not okay and the nightmares never ceased.

It was after one particular night that everything had changed. The one night that had you finally reaching out for help, the night that had you admitting that you were not okay.

You had been home for two weeks when it had happened. All it took was a hectic, drunken brawl to trigger the episode. One minute you’re enjoying your beer, slightly laughing at a joke that one of the boys shared, letting lose to ease the noise in your head, then the next you’re being pulled off a blonde head who’s face was nearly disfigured beneath you. Blood covering her once fresh face and clean hair, along with your hands that shook from adrenaline, anger, fear, shell shock.

Once Rip got word of what happened he stormed his way to the bunkhouse which is where he had found you staring at your own reflection in the bathroom. The way a cold and lost look was written in your eyes will forever be embedded in his mind. It wasn’t you who stood standing in front of the mirror with tensed shoulders, hair a mess from sweat and dried blood, the real you was trapped in your mind.

It nearly took all night to bring you back, but not once did he give up.

“Rip,” You softly call his name with an exhausted sigh as you close the door to the stable,

“No. You’re not going!” Blue eyes widening more with fear and rage,

“Yes I am,” You respond in a whisper, “They need me,”

“And we need you here!” I need you here.

It was what he should’ve said, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Wasn’t exactly how he wanted to let you know the truth, wanted to do it the right way, a more intimate, genuine way. But now, he’s out of time. And most likely lost his chance.

He lost you.

“Rip-,” You begin to say but was interrupted by Kacey walking in the stables,

“We’re loaded to fix the fence,” You turn to him before giving him a small nod,

The youngest Dutton switches his gaze from you to the brute man staring intensely at you, knowing then he had walked into something and immediately sensing the tension surrounding the air. He’s felt this mood before, felt tension between you two every so often, but for some reason this time it was stronger, as if one wrong word said would ignite the awaiting flame. So without another word and only a simple nod, he turns to walk away, giving you two privacy. However, you didn’t stick around. Both to just get the day over with and also to postpone the argument.

If you even get a chance to talk about it with him again.

You hear Rip call out to you as you walk out the stables, halting your steps. You glance over your shoulder, meeting his eyes, but no words were said, so instead you let out a sad sigh through your nose as you continue walking out the building. Leaving the brute man alone in the stables with angered thoughts.

*****

Hours had flown by. After fixing the fence, which took nearly the whole day since it was worse than anyone thought, doing daily health checks on the animals, running a quick errand with Beth, everyone was finally able to wash up and spend the remaining hours with you. Everyone sat around the bonfire sharing stories about anything and everything, chatter, laughter and music can be heard in the darkened night.

Empty beer and whiskey bottles, sticks with dried marshmallows and chocolate littered the ground around everyone’s feet. It was a night you’d deeply remember, a night you’d miss, a night you wished would happen every Friday, but you knew it wouldn’t be possible. At least not with you. Not anymore. You tried keeping a strong face, positive thoughts, positive energy, for the sake of everyone around you. They all had high hopes of you coming back home, claiming you’d be home in less than two months because you were tough as a bull, but you knew the truth. The reality of it all.

Obviously you didn’t remind them of the truth, didn’t want to take away the little happiness they held onto for you, the strong faith they had. So all you did was smile at them, raise your glass and down the last bit of your drink. Every so often you’d get lost in your thoughts, thinking of the mission, the serious consequences, the challenges that will come with it, the horror you’ll soon face, but before you can trap yourself in such thoughts they were there to bring you back. Invite you to their conversations, their stories they were sharing, their jokes, which you were thankful for.

What you didn’t notice was the way a pair of blue eyes have been secretly staring at you from across the fire pit. A dark corner where the fire barely illuminated his features. Light or not he didn’t care if he was caught staring at you, everyone was able to read his opinion of the whole situation but no one dared to ask him about it. He was already a fumed bull waiting to be provoked.

There were times where you’d glance up and catch him staring, but not once did you confront him. Making a scene in front of everyone was the last thing you wanted, so you ignored him and his glaring daggers.

Although, at one point during the night, Colby was the one to mention they had ran out of marshmallows, which you volunteered to grab the extra pack from the bunk house. Slightly buzzed you make your way through the Dutton ranch with sluggish steps till you push open the door to the bunks. Walking to the kitchen you grab the new pack of marshmallows sitting on the counter along with another couple chocolate bars. Just as you turn to head back out, your steps come to a stop when you see Rip standing by the couch.

Face emotionless, but eyes dark, red. Was he crying?

“Havin’ fun?” Rip questions, tone cold and firm, yet his blue eyes have another written emotion in them,

You shrug a shoulder, “Tryin’,”

He scoffs, “Yeah I see that.. but it ain’t workin’,”

You knew exactly what he was referring to. The constant lost in thought when the conversation was directed somewhere else. What you didn’t know until now was those same eyes that have been staring at you from the dark were analyzing you throughout the entire night. Watching the way your smile quickly faded as you once again lost yourself in your thoughts, watching the way your fingers peeled off the label from your beer bottle, the way your leg bounced uncontrollably from nerves, fear, and anxiousness. He knew you were afraid, he read you perfectly, but he knew nothing he’d say would change your mind. Not now, not ever.

You were stubborn like a goddamn mule.

“Yeah well, it’s a little hard to have fun when I got two sets of eyes throwing daggers at me all night,” You say, matching his tone as you stare into his eyes,

Heavy tension once again surrounds you two, the muffled music coming from outside was the only thing that can be heard in the room. Neither of you said anything for a good minute or so, just staring at one another with pain written in both your eyes with tears threatening to build. This wasn’t how you wanted to give your farewells to him. Having an argument with him before you left was something you did not want, but yet here you are.

“Can we just..,” You pause, letting out an exhausted sigh before continuing, “Enjoy the rest of the night before I have to catch a flight in a few hours?”

Rip stares deep in your eyes. Hurt, sadness, anger, and fear were written in his blue ones, they were easy to read, especially when he stared at you the way he was staring. He didn’t bother to hide it, yet he didn’t express it to you verbally. Not like he had to or wanted to, it was obvious on how he felt of the whole situation.

“They’re out there celebrating your death..,” He says pointing a long finger at the door then continues with, “.. and I ain’t being apart of it,”

His voice slightly breaks with each word. His blue eyes standing out more when tears begin building, but not one dares to slide down his cheeks, at least not in front of you. Not saying another word, he turns around and heads out the door with a harsh shove that has it banging against the wall.

Whatever string was left holding your heart in place had finally snapped as you watched the door shut behind him. The last memory you’d have of him. This wasn’t how you wanted to leave things with him, he was the only one who could have helped you through it, fought through the dark times, the constant noises in your head. He was the only one who you stayed alive for while you were out in the field, but now that he’s walked away, not wanting any part of it, you didn’t know if it was even worth staying alive once you landed on base. He was your anchor to it all.

And now you’d be stranded in the dark, drowning with nothing to hold you upright. Keep you up float when you felt like sinking, when you felt like the water was too strong for your fighting body. The one person who could’ve saved you from it all was now walking away, leaving you alone.

‘Maybe it was for the best.’

You tell to yourself. You convince yourself. Maybe him not being apart of it, apart of your life would one day guide him to a better life with the love of his life, guide him to someone who can make him happier, stronger, happier.

It was for the best that he left.

*****

4:30 am

Throwing your duffle and backpack in the backseat you shut the door before facing the small crowd. You give everyone a big hug, including the man himself, John Dutton who hugged you for a good long minute before being slightly shoved by Beth who took you in a stronghold as she secretly let the tears fall down her cheeks. You don’t know how, but you kept your own tears from spilling down. Once departing from the woman you go ahead and start hugging the cowboys, sharing a few laughs with them as they joke with you one last time. Which you appreciated their effort in trying to lighten things up, but you knew they knew nothing they can say now will help. But still, you appreciate it.

“So.. who won?” You say when Ryan and Colby stand in front of you,

They both share a look, small smile forming on their lips, “Neither,” Colby says,

You give them a confused look, but Ryan continues with, “We decided to leave it ready for you when you come back,”

Come back. Something you knew was a big word at the moment.

“Can’t have it ready forever,” You say with a sad chuckle,

“We can and we will,” Ryan firmly states, letting you know no one will come near the empty bed unless it’s you,

It was a faint demand from them. They wanted you to come back, no matter how hard it will be, they demanded that you come back to reclaim your bed at the bunkhouse, and that alone brought the ball back in your throat.

“Gonna miss you dorks,” You manage to say before quickly bringing them both for a group hug,

Both men wrap their arms around you, burying their faces in your hair as they cherish the moment. As you go to pull away both their hands on either side of your hip tighten, not wanting the hug to end, but eventually step away from you.

You give them a small smile and then a small wave to everyone huddle in front of you before turning around to climb into the truck where Roscoe patiently waited for you.

“Ready?” The soldier asks as you take one last glance out the window, watching everyone wave at you with saddened smiles, the ranch standing tall and beautifully behind them.

Letting out a small sigh you give him a nod.

In a matter of seconds the truck roars to life before beginning to move down the driveway and out of the Duttons ranch. Silence engulfs the car, only the sound of the radio softly playing in the speakers is heard. Leaning your head against the headrest behind you, you let your mind drift away, thinking about everyone at the ranch, playing their faces in your mind to not forget them, your fingers softly playing with a small deer origami that Tate had made for you last night for good luck. Then thinking about him once again.

Remembering how things were left between you two. Wishing you could’ve fixed things before you left, wished you could’ve said the truth, wished he could’ve have given you the chance to let you show him just how much he meant to you. But he didn’t. None of it happened.

So now, all you’ll think about is What If.

While driving halfway out the ranch and you still being lost in thought, you didn’t capture the moment a large black figure blending in the dark speeding in your direction until the truck comes to an abrupt stop. Causing your seatbelt to lock just in time to catch your body from going forward.

“The fuck?” Roscoe reacts, putting the gear in park as he eyes the figure that is currently blocking his way,

You clench your jaw as you make eye contact with him, even in the dark and with the only source of light from the headlights you both immediately lock eyes.

Of course it’s Rip on top of his horse. Black hat on his head with his black jacket wrapped on his frame.

“I’ll take care of this,” You say, never breaking eye contact with him as you unbuckle yourself and open the door,

“(Y/n) we don’t have time for this,” Roscoe tries arguing back, but you repeat yourself as you hop off the truck,

Shutting the door and standing by it you face him, where he still remained on top of his horse.

“Rip seriously what is your problem? I don’t have time to deal with you right now!” You yell as the brute man climbs off his horse,

A grim look was written on his face as he makes his way towards you. A look he only has when he’s angry about something, and right about now he’s angry at you, you knew that.

“I swear to god Rip if you don’t get out the way I’m gonna-,” Your words were cut off by a pair of rough lips latching onto yours,

Your eyes grow wide in anger, shock, and confusion. But once you feel the way his hand gently cups the side of your face you realize what exactly is happening and only react back. Your own hands finding their way to his face, fingers slowly tangling themselves in his soft, dark curly hair at the base of his neck. A deep, saddened relieved sigh escapes from you two as you both pour the hidden truth into the kiss. Deepening it and cherishing the moment at the same time, neither one wanting or planning to break it off, but you both knew it had to happen, you had to leave.

Which is why Rip got a little selfish for a second, he deepened the kiss, licking his way into your mouth as he held a tight grip on your hip to not let you out of his hold. Just a few more seconds of this, he had to. If this was the only time he would get this opportunity until you came back home, then he was sure as hell he would take every second that was available to have you in his arms, have your lips molding with his, have your fingers tugging on his hair, have your breath fanning his lips, have both your hot tears smear against his own cheeks. He was taking advantage of the moment because he knew it would be more than a month that he would be able to feel it again. Feel this moment again.

Eventually, you both do break the kiss, but not once did he let an inch form between you two. Leaning his forehead against yours, he lets you both catch a breather from the intense, beautiful moment.

“You come back to me you hear?” He whispers, beautiful blue eyes now searching for your own,

When he finally does find your (E/c) eyes that he has grown to love, he whispers once again, “You come home,”

New tears fall down your cheeks at his words, you knew you couldn’t make such a big promise, especially in your line of work. It was a rule, a rule everyone in the military who serves knew they should never make, because they knew reality was always behind that promise.

You stare into those blue eyes of his that have tears of their own, some finding their way down his rough skin, while the rest build at the brim of his eyes. You knew he knew you couldn’t make that promise, but he knew you’d fight for it no matter what, no matter how impossible it might seem, because he knew you always kept your promise. That’s who you were. Loyal, loving, protective, unafraid, and a true fighter.

You stare into his eyes a little longer, feeling the way another tear slides down your cheeks then feeling the rough pad of his thumb gently wiping it away. The words get caught in your throat, the words where you wanted to tell him to be realistic, to not make you promise anything because disappointment and pain is the only thing he’ll receive, but before you can even force them out you hear your name being called from inside the truck.

“We gotta go,” Roscoe softly says, hating to interrupt the moment, hating to part you from the man you clearly love,

You sniff, looking down at the ground then back up to Rip where he only gives you a small smile.

“C’mon,” Rip whispers as he leads you back into the truck,

Once sitting inside, shutting the door, Rip points at the man behind the wheel before saying, “You look after her you hear?”

Roscoe nods at him, “You’ve got my word man,”

Rip nods back before averting his eye to you. You sat there, tears still slowly sliding down your cheeks, you weren’t ready to say goodbye to him, not after you both finally confessed to each other. Which reminds you, you had to say it, in fear of not being able to ever again.

“Rip I-,” You try but he cuts you off with a shake of his head,

“No. Don’t say it. You say it when you come back,” He demands, small smile tugging on the corner of his lips, “Just know I do too,”

I do too.

You sniff once again, tears falling down as you glance behind him, seeing the ranch and the bunkhouse glow in the background. Memories flash in your mind. All those laughs, tears, injuries that you’ve accumulated over the years with everyone who lives and works at the ranch played in your head, reminding you that you had a family to come back to once again, you had friends who were also waiting for you to come back with open arms. You had a life to get back to.

Come back.

Averting your eyes back to his that had tears of their own falling down his cheeks, you stare at him as you remembered, you had him to come back to. He was your main reason to come back home, he was the reason why you weren’t going to die in the field, he was the reason why you weren’t going to give up when shot down, he was the reason why you weren’t going bleed out. He was your reason why you were coming home.

And if anyone tried stopping you from doing so, then it would be the last thing they ever did.

Because you are coming home.

Reaching a hand out the window, you let your small held cup his bearded cheek before letting your own thumb wipe away the tears that fall down. Looking into his eyes with a firm stare, a promise, you let him hear the words.

“I’m coming home,”

—————

-Ahhh It’s Finally Here!!! I’m Not Kidding I Have Been Going Back & Forth With This One. Mostly Because I Had Writers Block, But Also Because I Would Change A Lot Things & Finding New Ideas To Replace The Old Ones.

-But Again! Thank You To Those Who Have Been Patient & Have Been Waiting For This Wheeler Fic! More To Come!!

-Lastly, Make Sure To Turn On Post Notifications!! 🔔 🔔 For More Updates!

—————

Part 2 ?

[hederasgarden]

Cowboy Trouble

Summary: When your boyfriend loses a game of poker, Rip Wheeler claims a night with you as the reward. 

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x F!Reader x Rip Wheeler

W/C: 3K

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. PIV sex, oral sex (m receiving), anal sex, threesome, slight spitting kink, soft dom vibes, fingering and dirty talk. This is pure filth. 

A/N: Thank you @writercole and @whatblogisthis216 for your help with this story and Cole again for the beautiful moodboard. Thanks to @imjess-themess for the idea of the poker game and @therebeccaw and @blue-aconite for beta'ing.

Masterlist ♡ Outer Range Masterlist

Rhett takes a seat in the corner of the hotel room, hat tipped back and a glass of whiskey in his hand. Your own mouth tingles from the two shots you took earlier in the lobby bar. The liquor helps to round the edges of your nerves. Tonight is a first for you and Rhett but something you’ve both wanted for a while. When your boyfriend caught Rip watching you on occasion it seemed like kismet. The Dutton’s ranch foreman was powerful and alluring but most importantly someone Rhett trusted. For all his violence, you knew Rip was a good man, kind but a little broken. Not unlike Rhett in that regard.

You sigh, relaxing into Rip’s hold as he runs his calloused hands over your smooth skin. When you look at Rhett his attention isn’t focused on you but rather Rip. He watches the way the older man slowly undresses you and mouths at the skin of your neck. You reach back and bury your hand in Rip’s thick hair, tugging light and pulling a groan from him. You feel hot and shaky, primed for his touch by the flash of jealousy in your boyfriend’s dark blue eyes. Rhett’s always been a little possessive and you’ve never loved that trait more than you do now. If looks could kill, Rip would be dead but the other man doesn’t seem to mind, his touch confident and sure. His hands feel like Rhett’s, roughened by their line of work, but they’re bigger than your boyfriend's. You shudder at the way one large hand spans over your delicate throat while the other cups your breasts.

"This just for me?" Rip asks, plucking at the flimsy strap of your lacy bra.

You smile at him over your shoulder, suddenly feeling a little shy. Rhett picked out the set yesterday, the color chosen specifically to compliment your skin tone. After you modeled it for him he’d taken you in the dressing room, bending you over the velvet bench and keeping you quiet with a hand over your mouth. He didn’t even bother to remove the lingerie, just pulled the underwear aside and sunk himself to the hilt, telling you to remember who you really belong to when you wore it later.

“For you and Rhett,” you tell Rip, glancing over at your boyfriend. Rhett takes a long sip of his drink, his pink lips shiny. The dark look in his eyes sends a bolt of desire through your body and you press yourself against Rip in response.

“Well, thank you, Darlin,” he murmurs, sliding his hand down your stomach until he reaches between your legs.

He rubs you over the thin layer of cloth until you're damp and squirming in his arms. Every time you make a little sound or beg him for more, Rhett shifts in his seat and rubs his palm over his thigh. You drop your head back to rest against Rip’s chest while he works you over with soft touches and whispered words meant for just the two of you. When you’re close to your peak he finally draws away and turns you to face him. He makes quick work of unhooking your bra and drawing down your underwear. The latter gets stuffed into his pocket and your mind buzzes at the thought of what he might do with it later.

Both men are still fully dressed while you’re completely naked. You feel vulnerable and powerless under their gaze, hyper-aware you’re at their mercy. That thought sends an unexpected wave of heat through your chest and you let Rip guide you to lay back on the bed. He arranges you so Rhett can see everything. Rip caresses your jaw with his big hand and tells you what a good girl you're being for him. You jump when he settles a hand on your knee, glazing back at Rhett.

“Easy now,” he whispers, speaking to you like a spooked horse and running his hands up and down your splayed thighs. “Look at me, sweetheart. Rhett’s not in control here,” he reminds you.

You shudder, eyes closing briefly as he works one thick finger inside and curls it upward. It feels good and isn’t long before a second and third join the first. You shift your hips down to drive his fingers deeper, grasping his forearm when he thumbs your clit. He works you into a desperate state, watching you with dark, wanting eyes. When he finally pulls his fingers out they glisten with your arousal. You watch, breathless when he moves away from you and approaches Rhett, dipping his fingers into your boyfriend’s whiskey and swirling them around. Rhett maintains eye contact with Rip as he downs the drink in one swig.

Rip smirks and returns to you, shedding his shirt and unbuckling his belt. You relax on the bed, dropping your hand between your thighs to rub your clit while he undresses. Once Rip is naked, he climbs onto the bed, his impressive cock bobbing between his thick thighs. You know it's going to be a tight fit and your cunt throbs in anticipation.

“Do I need a condom?” He asks you.

You glance at Rhett and he nods. Your boyfriend’s the only man you ever let come inside you and knowing he wants Rip to have you that way almost makes you dizzy.

“No,” you promise, reaching up to touch Rip’s beard. It’s softer than you expect and he smiles in return, nudging your thighs farther apart to accommodate his bulk. He pushes inside slowly, a hand on your jaw keeping you focused on him and him alone. “Don’t want to miss a minute of this,” he tells you, staring down at you without blinking until his hips are flush with yours.

You feel incredibly full and you roll your hips in response, needing something. Rip chuckles and pulls back only to move forward in one smooth but harsh stroke. You moan and beg him to do it again. He obliges until you’re almost crying around him because it feels so good. The drag of his cock inside you, the scrape of his beard over your nipples and the bruising grip on your hip all work together to have you coming around his cock in no time. The hand that cups your cheek blocks out any view of Rhett and he keeps you focused on him while he fucks you through it, prolonging the pleasure you feel.

When you’re finally coming down, his hand drops to the back of your neck while the hand on your hip tightens. The world spins and Rip rolls the two of you. Suddenly you’re on top of him, his hard cock sliding even deeper inside. Both of you groan when you flutter around him.

“Take a second to find your breath,” he urges, rubbing your waist.

You glance over at Rhett and meet his stormy blue eyes. He’s leaning forward in the chair, another full glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers. You notice the bulge in his jeans and the white knuckle grip he has on his thigh. When your brows draw together in concern he shoots you a wink and leans back, rubbing his palm over his bulge.

“Focus on Rip,” he directs.

You turn your attention back to the other man and watch him reach for the cowboy that he abandoned earlier in the evening on the bedside table. He sets it on your head with a smirk, tugging it down at the same time he rolls his hips. You gasp and pitch forward, settling your hands on his broad chest.

“Ride me, darlin’. I know Rhett’s taught you that much.”

You don’t dare look at your boyfriend when you rise up on your knees and drop back down on Rip’s thick cock. Your thighs tremble, your body still weak from your earlier orgasm. Rip helps you with a steady grip on your waist. You settle into a rhythm, circling your hips and rising up high enough to almost let his cock slip out before falling back down. Rip’s eyes close, his curly hair wild around his flushed face. You feel powerful riding him like this, working you both into a desperate, wanton state. Your own plesure builds at the base of your spine, another orgasm buzzing into existence the longer you fuck yourself on him. Rip seems to feel it too, pressing his roughened thumb into your clit and circling it over that sensitive bundle of flesh until you’re mewling for him.

“Oh,” you moan, eyes fluttering.

“Look at your boyfriend while you come apart on my cock,” Rip demands, fucking up into you with hard, unrelenting strokes as his fingers brings you closer and closer to the edge. “Tell him how good it feels to have me come inside you.”

“Rip, please,” you beg.

“Tell him,” the other man demands, ceasing his movement. You whine in frustration and try to ride him yourself but a bruising grip on your hips halts any movement. In desperation, you look back at Rhett.

“Feels good,” you moan, rewarded for your statement when Rip returns to fucking you. “He’s gonna come inside me, I want him to,” you pant, the last word turning into a wail as you come apart and your vision goes fuzzy.

Rhett curses and Rip groans deeply, stilling and flooding you with his warmth. Your heart beats wildly in your chest and you struggle to pull air into your lungs. Every part of you feels weak and loose. Strong, warm hands settle on your shoulders, and the hat on your head is plucked off. You look up at Rhett, leaning into him as he strokes your sweaty back. He tilts your chin up so he can kiss you roughly.

“Think she might need some help dismounting,” Rip suggests, his voice grizzled.

You wince as Rhett helps you off the other man’s cock and onto your feet, leaning heavily into his body. A trickle of cum leaks down your legs and you press them together, rubbing your face against Rhett’s chest. He cups the back of your head and you sigh, taking in his familiar scent. When Rhett reaches for your dress on the floor Rip clears his throat. You look over your shoulder to see him leaning casually against the headboard, an arm tucked behind his head.

“I was promised a full night,” he says, stroking his beard and staring at your body.

“Ready for another round already, old man?” Rhett questions, brow arched.

“In a few minutes. Thought maybe you’d like the chance to fuck your girl at least once tonight.”

“You want to watch me and her together?”

You can hear the surprise in Rhett’s voice and look back up at him. You know from the way his tongue runs over his lower lip slowly that he’s not entirely opposed to the idea, just taken aback. He looks down at you and you nod, letting him know you're game.

"You said it's my night with her and right now, that's what I want to see,” Rip says. “Put her on her stomach.”

Rhett helps you back on the bed before stepping back to undress. Rip pulls you to lay beside him, rolling on his side and smoothing a hand down your back and over the swell of your ass. You jolt forward when he curls two fingers inside you, gathering the mess the two of you made together. He drags his wet fingers up the back of your thighs and stops short of your ass.

“Can I touch you there?” He asks, nuzzling your face.

“Yes." Your breath catches when drags his fingers between your cheeks and finds your tight bud.

“Has Rhett fucked you here before?” He asks, using the wetness he gathered to tease your entrance.

You nod and drop your head to rest on the back of your hands, squirming as Rip teases the ring of your ass. It burns a little when he pushes inside but you want it, pressing back with a groan. Behind you the bed dips and another pair of hands settle on your body. Rhett places a chain of kisses between your shoulder blades and settles himself over the backs of your thighs. You close your eyes, letting Rip tease you.

“She’s gonna need lube,” Rip says, withdrawing his hand.

“No shit,” Rhett shoots back.

“Please,” you moan, arching back.

“Easy, we’re getting there,” Rhett promises you.

You glance over your shoulder in time to see Rhett take a bottle Rip hands him. Your boyfriend carefully works a finger inside you and you drop your head forward. He’s slow and methodical, letting you get used to the sensation before adding a second and scissoring you open. You roll your hips, your cunt feeling empty again each time Rhett fucks you.

​​"Hmm, gonna need a little more lube," Rhett hums, his fingers continuing to stretch your tight hole. You feel, rather than see, his warm saliva drip into your ass.

It’s filthy and you love it, moaning in response. You surrender to his quiet ministrations, rocking your hips back and forth as he continues to stretch you open. You’re not sure how long Rhett works you over, body feeling warm and relaxed but when he eventually pulls away your whine.

“Shh, we’re almost there,” he promises you, pushing your legs apart to kneel between them. “In the meantime, I think Rip needs a little attention.”

You lift your head just as Rip settles in front of you, his long legs resting on either side of your body. His cock is inches from your face and he’s already half hard again, stroking himself while he watches you. You rise up on your elbows and shift forward to take the tip between your lips, teasing his head with your tongue when you feel Rhett’s thick cock nudge your back entrance. When you open your mouth to welcome Rip’s cock inside, your boyfriend pushes the head of his cock past your tight ring.

The action jolts you forward and you swallow more of Rip then you intend, eyes watering with tears but you don’t pull back, moaning around his length while Rhett slowly feeds your ass more of his cock. Rip’s large hand settles on the back of your head, careful not to exert pressure. You hollow your cheeks and suck hard, tasting the tartness of your own arousal and the salty warmth of his.

Rhett pushes the last few inches inside while Rip gently presses on the back of your head until you’ve taken him down to the base. Your tongue darts out to taste his firm balls. You’re full in the best way and none of you move, savoring the feeling until your need for air has you drawing back. Rhett follows suit and you pull off Rip with a gasp, eyes closing when Rhett slides back inside and begins to slowly fill your ass again.

You nearly forget about Rip until he guides you back to his cock, letting you take over once your lips close over his head. You tease his slit with your tongue as Rhett picks up his pace. Your cunt flutters around nothing and that needy pressure builds in your lower stomach.

“Fuck,” Rhett gasps, curling his body over yours as pushes you harder and harder into the bed. His weight on you feels good and you grasp Rip’s cock and drag your lips down the underside, tracing the prominent vein you find there until you reach his balls. You suck on them gently, pumping his cock in time with your boyfriend's thrusts.

“Put your mouth back on him,” Rhett pants. “Take all of him down.”

Rhett’s commanding tone hastens your own desire and you do as he asked. Rip sighs and cups your face with both hands, thrusting shallowly into your mouth a few times. You relax your throat so you can take all he has to offer. He pumps into you once, twice and then floods you with his hot, salty cum. You gag but keep your face pressed to his stomach when Rhett grips your hips and pulls up so he can force a hand under you and strum your clit.

It’s hardly the kind of touch you normally need but they've both got your body so primed it sends you flying. You gurgle around Rip, his come dripping down your chin as you fall into unimaginable pleasure. Rhett fucks you harder and faster until finding his own release with a shout, his hot come filling your ass. You lift off Rip with a wet gasp, lungs burning. Every part of your body hums with pleasure and you shudder while Rhett continues to lazily thrust into you.

You feel like you might pass out, body overwrought, but Rip has more in store for you, nudging your mouth open again. He rests the tip between your lips and you close your mouth around him, sucking gently and drawing out more of his salty taste. He groans and pets the crown of your head.

“Good girl,” he praises, staring down at you, his cheeks flushed. “Keep sucking.”

“The best girl,” Rhett agrees, kissing the back of your neck.

You feel empty when he pulls out of you and groans at the loss of fullness. Rip pulls away a second later and they both turn you on your back. Someone drags a warm cloth between your legs to clean you up while another pair of hands wipe the tears and come from your face. You open your eyes and see Rhett hovering over you. He encourages you to drink some water and smiles down at you.

“Proud of my girl,” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You sigh happily and lay back, letting Rip cover you with the thick comforter. He kisses your cheek and whispers his thanks.

“Anytime you wanna lose at poker again, you give me a call,” Rip says.

“Anytime you want to fuck my girl again, you can give us a call,” Rhett shoots back.

The stunned silence has you cracking open an eye to watch the two men face off. “Are you both going to let me sleep alone?” You ask. “I’m cold.”

Rhett smiles at you, reaching down to squeeze your ankle while Rip stares at you. “Well?” You question.

“You heard the lady,” Rhett says, stalking forward and slipping into bed beside you.

“Who am I to say no to such a request,” Rip replies, his plump lips drawing up under his beard.

♡

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[wroteclassicaly]

I Won’t Stand By - Part One

(Steve Harrington x Female Reader)

Summary: Steve has always been worth more. And you won’t stand by and watch him get his heart broken again. He needs to know.

Warnings: Language, pining, unrequited (or are they?) feelings, heavy on the angst, happy ending… eventually.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x best-friend!female reader

A/N: After I made this post, I started thinking heavily on Steve, Nancy & Stancy, a little more than usual. And I just feel like I needed to write this and channel some energy into it, as it basically took on a mind of its own (we heavily into Steve, okay? He’s consuming me). It’s going to have one more part to it (which I’ve already outlined). It’s thick on the angst, but it’ll have a happy ending, I think? I tried some different stuff with Steve and his reactions, so I hope y’all like it? Lemme know ❤️💖

“Are you stupid?”

You’d never insinuated, nor had you ever called Steve anything that would suggest he was ignorant, and you had known him since elementary school. You never made him feel like anyone else could, by a joke or an offhand comment, usually a backhanded compliment. But as he sees you standing under the entryway of the Family Video — three lunches in your hand, your neon pink windbreaker covered in rain drops, eyes steady in their focus on him and Robin — he’s never felt more like his IQ is non-existent.

Robin looks briefly confused, tapping her purple painted nails on the cheap wooden counter, unsure where to look. However, her mouth opens before she can stop it. “Hey, what’s going on? Is that a ham croissant I smell?”

You’d laugh if your lungs weren’t full of a scream that you’re sure is about to rip itself free. Your heartbeat is thumping so hard against your ribcage that it’s echoing all around your chest, playing ping pong. Steve opens his mouth to speak, starting to shift his posture enough that he can work himself around the counter to get to you. He can’t stand to see you this upset, especially at him. You don’t let him come within an inch of your trembling form, afraid that you’ll say things you can’t take back, or you’ll vomit your breakfast all over his green vest.

You want to berate yourself for the way he looks struck, physically recoiling as if to console himself. His sneakers stop on the rug you’re standing on, your wet loafers drenched and dripping. Nike and leather. You can’t take how good he smells, the way that it always greets you with a hug, but instead, you walked into his conversation with Robin about his upcoming date with Nancy. He really meant it, he saw her as his future, he never got over her, and now that she’s realized what she lost — she wants him back.

Steve is about to call a code for backup, when you decide to say something, stepping around him, paper bags full of food clenched and wrinkled in your vice. You damn near spit the words, tone laced with acidic venom. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

His chest aches with the bitterness of confusion, a hunger to understand that’s clawing at his throat and attempting to seize his tongue. He’s fumbling for words and that seems to fuel your excitement. Robin, meanwhile, her irises widen, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you. It's a simple & soft, “Oh, shit.” As she watches your feelings unfold in real time, understanding.

You throw the sacks onto the counter, Robin barely able to catch them before they can slide off, and you turn back, right as Steve shakes himself clear and attempts to meet you. Your finger jabs into his chest, breath getting caught in your throat. He bites his tongue when he sees your sclera is flooded with unshed tears. You know if you blink that it’ll all be over for you. How can you convey how you’re feeling?

Even if you weren’t ass over elbow for the guy, you still wouldn’t want him back together with Nancy Wheeler. She might be your friend too, but you were there for Steve. You saw everything he had to go through, and even though you didn’t leave his side, he was still dealing with their relationship and monster land — alone, trapped in his head. It wasn’t until he graduated that he was able to let go of each mental blockage that she and the whole situation caused him to put up (enough so), and truly let you in. She didn’t share his goals and Steve deserved better than a relationship that seems like nothing more than pure nostalgia.

Neither of them should settle. They are still vastly different.

Fuck, you really need to scream. Your chest is heavy with it, weighted. You’re sinking, choking on oxygen, your body rejecting it. Panic.

Steve practically begs Robin for help, jaw unhinged and tongue slicking across his lips. He tries to find something to say — anything. You roll your eyes and the tears finally salt your lash line, cooling and burning. “Actually, you know what? Fuck this right now!”

And if customers didn’t just come in, the little bell dinging and electrifying your anxieties — you’d have run right out the front door. But you do the next best thing — your only other option. You dart for the family labeled restroom in the back. Steve doesn’t even have to ask, Robin nodding her head. “Go. I got this.”

~*~

You curse yourself for not locking the door, for Steve’s thoroughly kind behavior (why can’t he just be an asshole and make this easier?). You’re practically bent over the sink, sobbing quietly into the fluorescent expanse, and you hear the door open and close. His cologne invades your senses — all delicate traces of woodsy spice. His freshly laundered clothing, even his minty breath from the spray you know he carries in his back pocket. It’s slow motion when you meet his concerned stare in the mirror.

His large palm clasps over your shoulder, wrist watch catching in the light. He turns you, but you find solace in the tile flooring and your loafer covered toes. His fingertips, ever-so gentle and calloused, filter beneath your chin — tilting. You try to look away but it’s a pointless effort. Steve’s brown is pitched high in an attempt to understand, to relate.

Your torso wants to give in and collapse, legs dead and heavy, stuck to the floor. Your mouth is dry, but your throat is wet with tears. It’s suddenly Tina’s Halloween party all those years ago, and you’re holding Steve as he’s crying, showing himself like you had never seen before. Your nose wrinkles into a scrunch, you reach up to swat his hand away. He catches your wrist with his other, and shakes his head, thumbpad caressing the healing cut on your cheek, even a month later it still remains.

When you went to battle with Vecna and the four of you were attacked by his little tentacle hive minds, you’d gotten the sharp end of one to the face. That very fear settles in his stomach at the memory, sloshing about with the gnawing worry over what’s currently going on with you. He tucks a strand of hair back behind your ear, a line of goosebumps shrouding your arms like invisible sleeves. His voice is so gentle with concern that you choke on an outright whimper.

“Talk to me, honey. What happened? What did I do?”

To a fault, this man is too good for anyone. And that’ll be his ultimate downfall. That’s enough to push on your anger, because you’re already riding the inevitable tidal wave of heartbreak, just waiting for the water to drown you. You don’t try to move his hold on you, you’re more than smart enough to know that he won’t budge if he doesn’t want to. You force yourself to talk to him, voice wavering and weak, and the word puke releases. “That’s the problem, Steve. It’s not what you did, but what you’re going to do to yourself by going back to her.”

“Wait, so you heard me and Robin—“

“I heard you in the RV, I heard you in the fucking upside down, and yes — I just heard about your stupid fucking date.”

He shakes his head, thumb tracing over your healing wound, a brief look of guilt flickering, his voice hoarse and tired. “So that’s why you think I’m stupid then, huh?”

“Do you remember when you cried all night after Tina’s party? When you spent money on flowers for her, or lost your entire friend group? Yeah, they were assholes, but you gave up everything because you thought something was wrong with you, that you needed to change.”

He’s briefly glancing at his own shoe wear, an audible swallow heard from him. How could he forget that night? He couldn’t stomach the word bullshit for months after.

You continue, unable to stop if someone duct taped your mouth shut.

“You dealt with torture, with trauma, with being cheated on. You became a more mature person, but that doesn’t mean you were ever an awful boyfriend, Steve. And now that she and Jonathan have grown apart, now that she’s seen you — it doesn’t make it okay for her to decide that you’re suddenly worth something again.”

He knows you’re right. Fuck, he can feel your statement carve itself into his every internal organ. He can’t disagree, he can’t fight you, because he fought with himself one too many times since Nancy destroyed him. His pride wants to argue, wants to blame himself, defend her, but he also knows you. And he knows you’re not taking shots at Nancy, nor are you trying to hurt him.

You’re surprised at how calmly you’re able to articulate yourself. You keep going. He needs to know.

“We were all kids when everything happened, and I don’t blame her for dealing with her own shit. I’m not excusing how she treated you. But I understand, and I love her. I just know that she doesn’t want the same things you want, Steve. It’s like you’re both trying to fit pieces into a mold that was never meant to work together, past what it was in the first place… So I’m fucking begging you, don’t do this to yourself.”

His hand drops, far too quickly than you’re ready for. His back falls against the door, his tresses dusting his forehead. Your body feels as if it’s been paved into the asphalt, unprepared for what he says next. “Any reasons other than that?”

“Steve—“ Your voice wobbles.

“No, you’ve made yourself clear. Me and Nance? Bad idea — I got that.”

“It’s because —“

“Why? There’s more to it than what you’re telling me, I know there is. Don’t fucking lie to me!” You’ve hit that spot in him, that wounded pride. He’s lashing a bit, arms crossing over his chest, biceps flexed beneath his white t-shirt.

“Because, I..” Your sentence topples.

He inches forward. “Because you what? Talk to me!”

Does he realize? Maybe he has an inkling, maybe he’s pushing it. You aren’t able to decipher, your emotions swirling, everything becoming too much all at once. Your instincts fly out the window, shattering glass, heart catching on your throat as it leaps out of your mouth and floats into the room. You lurch forward and grab Steve’s cheeks, his stubble tickling the backs of your fingers — and you press your lips to his.

He’s stiff at first, arms remaining tight and bound together. You’re crying, salting his mouth slick. He tastes like peppermint and coffee, with a hint of that creamer you’ve gotten him hooked on. His mouth is soft, becoming pliant. He begins to kiss you back, but it’s for a fraction, yet it’s there. His nose nudges yours, bumping, your lips parting with a smack as he uses his hands (arms uncrossing), to pull you away, cradling your face.

Heated, like a syrupy honey, he talks to you. He’s got it this go around. “Why didn’t you tell me that this was going on?”

You go to leave him, he won’t dare let you. His hold tightens, index finger rubbing along your cut. Your eyes flutter closed, fresh tears dowsing the raw skin of your cheeks. The moisture pours over Steve’s fingers.

“Don’t.” It’s him who is begging, chained undercurrents cutting into the depth of his voice. “Please don’t cry.”

The way that he strokes you, his grazing thumb soothing your cut, like you’re right back in the underworld and he almost died twice over seeing you hurt. He swipes at your tears, trying to wipe them away, but they blotch. More keeps coming. You’re dangling over that precipice of an anxiety attack that he can also sense. Like he’s coddling a wounded deer, Steve pulls you closer, bringing his lips to your forehead — pressing, voice gravelly, mouth moving away to utter, “Come here. Stay right here.” And helps you rest in his arms, your head sliding beneath his chin.

Whatever you attempt to say, it comes out as gibberish whimpering. Steve’s own chest cavity is scorched, throat blazing, eyes misty. You find solace in his broad physique, nose at his sternum. He’s confused, so many things running through his head, that it fucking aches at the base of his skull. Your cherry lip gloss-flavored kiss lingers, making him think of things he thought were just passing feelings for you a while ago.

There’s many things he wants to say, but his brain has a case of coward, working him into a settled question instead. “How long?”

“Everyday since I’ve known you, I think.” It’s an automatic whisper, a ghostly caress of your broken voice, but he still hears your answer.

He’s nodding, an annoyance filtering, a sadness. How could you not tell him something like this? All those nights you shared, talking about everything. He’s been more vulnerable with you than he’s been with anyone in his entire twenty years. This, he has to call you on.

“In all of the time you’ve known me, have I ever given you any reason not to trust me?”

Still buried in his embrace, you shake your head no.

“Is it — do you… Shit.” He isn’t sure how to phrase it, not wanting to make an ass of himself, the word also scaring the hell out of him.

He gets his answer, thankfully — when you speak. “Don’t ask me if I love —“ You cut yourself off briefly, before adding on, “— just… don’t, okay?”

His lids close, a sigh escaping. Holy shit, you love him. Someone else loves him, his best-friend is in love with him. And he could never see that? He talked about sex with other girls, about Nancy.

And not once did you ever stop him or act like it wasn’t alright. You hyped him up, you were always there to boost his spirits and his ego. He feels like a total asshole. His previous sigh has you shaking your head, especially after he lets out a quiet “I’m sorry.”

You break off his embrace, finding a hold on his forearms, squeezing. “Steve, look at me.” You find your courage again.

He complies immediately, rich hazel catching, nearly stealing your breath. You clear your throat lightly, inhaling through your nose to relax yourself. Steve’s hands are still on your face — unrelenting. “This thing with Nancy, it’s not even because of how I feel, not completely. You’re more than some trophy husband, you’re more than some minimum wage video clerk, even though I think your jobs have been pretty fucking cool.” His softened gaze dips off and he chuckles himself into that cheekily, familiar grin.

“Please don’t do this to yourself again, Steve. You deserve better than this. You always have. You’re the fucking heart of our group, don’t you understand that? Fuck the thumps on the head, fuck nostalgia. I’ve never stopped seeing what a good man you are, even when you used to be a bitchy jerk sometimes.”

He laughs again, music to your ears that gets you to stop crying briefly. You slide your fingers along his bare arms and he’s thoughtful, pausing, wanting to look away from you. Because what he’s going to say, he can’t bear the expression on your face. He just wishes, he almost begs the universe that Nancy hadn’t brought back her bullshit and confused him. And you kissed him and released a bunch of things he’d pushed away, things he didn’t even know existed.

Someone’s going to get hurt and he thinks it should be him, but as he’s gentle with you, fingertips splaying down the sides of your neck, he’s brought back down to the messy reality he’s a part of. “It wasn’t resolved on my terms. Honey, I have to try. Can’t you see things from my perspective, please understand?”

You decide instantaneously what you’re going to do, your ribs aching at the sudden drop in your heart rate, your throat feeling like it’s swollen to twice the normal size. Your hand leaves his wrist, combing the hair off his forehead — memorizing every mole and freckle, his cupid's bow, his jaw, those hauntingly warm eyes. He thinks you’ll get it, that you’ll stay. And you do get it, but the latter? You’re eerily firm, new tears seeping out, flooding your vision, making him a blurry silhouette.

It’s gonna be bad, he can feel the twisting in his gut. He tries to say something, beginning a reason. You cut him off. “I need you to understand that I can’t stand by and watch this. I care about you both, but you can’t ask me to watch you two try and sweep everything under the rug, and you can’t expect me to watch if your heart gets broken. I won’t watch you fall apart again. I can’t do it, Steve.”

“What are you saying?” He sounds pained, like you’d socked him in his stomach. It sure fucking feels like it. Even the tip of his tongue is aching, his own vision becoming cloudy. “How do you even know things won’t work?”

“If they do, then great. If she’s your person and that’s what was meant to happen, I hope it works for you.” If he’s happy, you mean that. But you just don’t think he deserves this, he deserves more, despite your feelings. And there’s some things that you just know.

He straightens himself against the door when he sees you reach around for the handle. He shakes his head and tries to keep your touch. You drop it, tears dripping off your lashes and onto the cheap flooring below. “Let me leave, Steve.”

“No, not happening.”

“Don’t do this.”

“You’re my best-friend, I can’t just be without you.”

“You have Robin. You can handle this.”

“I don’t wanna fucking handle this,” he lashes out, stepping forward and cupping your cheeks, making you look at him, his touch searing into your skin, “I want you.”

“Steve.” You’re a little heavier in your command, pulling his hands away, impulse leading. You lift onto your tippy toes and permit yourself a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His breath is choppy, a sudden heat leveling off the room, his nose bumps, sliding off your peck, his lips crashing into yours. You kiss him back with everything in you, mouths wet and tear stricken. He’s crying too, everything wet, spit stringing as your lips separate.

“I really hope it turns out to be what you want.” You pant your sorrows against his mouth, drinking him in — seeing. You’re falling, abandoning emotions and nearing sobbing territory.

Steve’s hands drop as you say this and it gives you the leverage you need to leave him alone in the bathroom, one last pleading cry from him cut off as you close the door behind you. You keep your head down and you walk through the store alone, its popcorn and candy coated scent striking you. You only stop when you’re at the counter and Robin has a piece of her sandwich pinched between her fingers, a pitiful look on her face as she sees your tear-stained features. She doesn’t get the chance to ask you anything, not before you request, crushing her heart into pieces. “Make sure he’s okay. He’s gonna need you.”

And your presence is gone in mere seconds, that bell signifying something much more than anyone was ready to comprehend. You make it to your car, rain pouring around you, right as Steve leaves the bathroom pinching his nose and sniffling, watching you from the window. You don’t break down, not until you’ve driven away and found somewhere to pull over.

Over…

// Eat me paragraph //

[queers-gambit]

Gone with the Sin

prompt: he loves another, and your fate is sealed.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 8.9k

note: Eddie's 19, readers 18+, Chrissy's 17-18 years old. also, 400 points to your Hogwarts House if you can tell me the band that sings the title song without cheating. AGAIN - not responsible for your therapy bills! additionally, there is an intensional shift at the end, where i got from "you" to "her". i hope it makes more sense when you read it.

warnings: Hanahaki Disease AU, cursing, character death, angst - again, ANGST!!! this gets gritty and dark and detailed, people - proceed with caution and maturity. NO SHAME in skipping this if you cannot handle it!! AGAIN - character death!! this gets sad. ✅ no spoilers

other Eddie Munson Hanahaki Disease AU fics: Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses Tears in the Rain

Spring has sprung in Hawkins, Indiana, and with the approaching warm weather came the thunderstorms. It felt appropriate that the harsh winds and piercing bullets of rain ruined all of Mother Nature's hard work; storm in your heart mimicking the storm outside. It ripped fresh leaves from trees, pretty petals from newly sprouted stems, and sent animals to seek shelter; for unattended trash cans to blow over and children to be rushed inside.

You stood on your front porch, glancing up and down the barren street to find it empty. Your fingers worked together in nervous knots as something sick crept up your throat; winds whipping away the sounds of your struggling breath, and spraying the blood that was coughed out pathetically.

Tears ruined mascara down your cheeks, blood dribbling down your chin, and still, no headlights flashed onto your street. Never had you felt so terrible or sick, never had you felt so stupid; turning for your front door and staggering into your home only to let your eyes scan across the clock hanging in the foyer.

8:50 pm

He promised to pick you up at 6:30, and now you knew, he wasn't coming due to simple, excused forgetfulness. He just wasn't coming. Your hands shot out to catch your body when your coughing became gut-wrenching, doubling over as your lungs tried in vain to pull air in while expelling whatever clogged them upon exhale. No such luck, and black dots started to dance in your vision; the storm masking the sounds of your body falling into your mother's end table; sending picture frames, a book, and lamp shattering to the floor.

Broken bits of glass represented the state of your being and the ends of your floor-length dress scattered the shards as high-heeled feet tried to stumble towards the staircase.

If you could get upstairs, you'd be fine...

But energy was harder to come by, rational thought swept away with the raging storm, and oxygen was no longer available to you - forcing your legs to give up at the base of the staircase and careen your bare skin into the glass shards. You didn't register the pain because the worst of it was concentrated in your chest and heart, hands reaching out to drag your body up the first three steps.

Before you could pull yourself up to the fourth, your ears rang with a piercing whine and your eye lids fluttered heavily as lead weighed your limbs down. Your manicured hand reached up in the hope of grasping anything, never finding purchase, and thumping limply down with your cheek pressed to the carpet. Blood splatter painted the floor beside you before drooling in a puddle from your opened mouth.

You swear you saw his face in that moment, but your mind wasn't trustworthy - larger, darker spots clouding any sight.

• 4 WEEKS EARLIER •

"So, is Johnny Boy flying in for prom?" you asked Nancy, forking a bit of homemade chicken salad to your mouth. The cafeteria was loud with the usual bustle of kids, most of the seniors clamoring to talk prom details; the dance only weeks away.

Nancy Wheeler, probably your oldest standing friend, blushed under the make-up she'd already applied, "Yes. He's renting a tux and everything."

Robin chuckled with you, asking, "He's renting a tux?"

"He doesn't exactly own one," she defended her California-dwelling boyfriend. "And I'm just relieved he's actually coming that I don't care what he wears."

"Well, it's a big deal... I guess," Robin rolled her eyes to you.

"He buy a plane ticket yet?" You asked the girl across the table instead.

"He bought one last night," she blushed harder, still feeling like a giddy school girl with a silly crush at the thought of her boyfriend. However, you wondered if it was just because she was excited to get laid but hey! If she was happy, who cares! You and Robin both cooed obnoxiously, poking fun at the Wheeler girl as she became flustered and waved us off. But she couldn't dodge the half-eaten baby carrot Robin shot at her, scolding, "You're both children!"

Your shoulders shrugged dramatically, "We're fun."

"Unhinged, is more like it."

You and Robin shared a look before nodding dramatically. You assured Nancy with another shrug, "We can live with that."

She scoffed, "Whatever. Well, look, what about you two?"

"What about us?" Robin asked, glancing at you in feigned confusion.

"Who are you guys going with?"

"To what?" You asked dumbly.

She glared, "Prom! God! You're both so annoying, you know that, right?"

You couldn't fight off the taunting chuckle, "We're messing with you, Nance. We know what you're talking about, but we're not going."

"You're not?" Nancy squeaked.

"Nah, it's not - "

"I'm going."

"You are!?" You gasped at the girl beside you. "You're flaking on me? On the night we're supposed to finally watch Scarface? You traitor..."

"Well," she flushed slightly, "I just... I-I brought it up - you know, the whole prom thing - to Vickie, and she was receptive to all of it, and-and-and next thing I know, right, because she's, like, looking at me with these beautiful wide eyes that I just end up blurting it all out, and we know me, I'm not exactly quiet, or subtle, and I-I might've, like, spit on her face a little because I was so nervous and my mouth was sweating because I was doing that thing that I do when I ramble, but it was okay because she, like, totally laughed, and then, BOOM!" Her hands clapped together, "She nodded and, like, then she-she-she's saying yes!" Robin yelped, eyes wide to look between us. "To prom! With me!"

"She said yes?" You grinned, feeling genuine elation for your friend.

"She said yes - to me!"

"Well, that's not hard to believe, sweet cheeks, I mean, who could say no to that faaaaace?" Your hand reached out to pinch her cheeks, puckering her lips; making her swat away at you with a small giggle.

"Yeah, seriously, Robin," Nancy smiled, sending you a look; mother hen letting her eyes tell you to settle down. "That's really great news! We're so happy for you - that's so amazing. You guys are gonna have so much fun!" Her eyes shifted to you, and her voice dimmed, "And since Robin's going with Vickie, maybe Steve could take you?"

Your eyes rolled, "Oof, babe, pawning me off on Harrington as a pity date? No thank you - I'll happily stay home, order in, watch my movies. My parents are supposed to be gone the week of prom, so, I'll have the house to myself to smoke."

"Well, that doesn't sound totally sad."

"Bitch, you were literally going to do the same with me until you accidentally asked Vickie out to the prom."

Robin shrugged, "Yeah, but now I'm going and you're gonna be all alone? While the rest of us are partying? C'mon, that's no fun. You don't even need a date, who cares about all that - why don't we all just, like, go together, or something? Right? People do that, go in groups? I-I mean, not that it matters if it's a thing to do or not, 'cause who cares - okay - so, let's just do it, you know?"

"I'm flattered, really," you pouted at the two girls. "I mean, it's not everyday I'm offered to third wheel on two different dates at the same time. It's an honor to just be nominated, really."

Nancy rolled her eyes and tossed the half-eaten carrot at you.

However, that wasn't the last time prom was brought up that day. Usually you did all you could to avoid the "sappy, teenage stupid shit" but it followed you around the halls, into the lunch room, bathrooms, to your locker, and inside the classrooms.

And the one person you never expected to, asked you, "You goin' to prom?"

Your head lulled to glare over at your best friend since 6th grade, Edward 'the Freak' Munson. "Oh, my God. C'mon, not you too." Your eyes glared at the ceiling, hands pointing dramatically, "Gimme a break, man!"

"What?" he shrugged innocently. "Can't I ask a simple question? Jeez, didn't know you were so touchy, babe."

"You seriously want to talk about prom? You? Who literally made himself throw up but pretending to throw up so hard when I started talking about the Snow Ball when we were in 8th grade?" Your eyes rolled, neck cracked, and you slumped further into your chair.

Class was about to begin, students filtering in to take their seats.

"Well, yeah, you see, typically when someone asks a question, they want an answer, so, sure," he chuckled, mimicking your position and making you smile lightly, "let's talk about prom, princess. So? You going?"

"Nope."

"Why not? Thought all girls dreamed of going to prom and all that frilly shit."

"Not I, Mr. Munson. Haven't you learned by now?"

He mocked, "I know, I know, you're not like other girls."

"Exactly, so, no, I don't care about prom. Spend money on a hair style that'll hold for only 3 hours if I'm lucky, get my nails done before I pick them off from how annoying they are - and then what? Spend over $100 on a dress I'll only wear for a single night? I promise, there's better things to spend my money on." He nodded slowly, you changing the subject, "Speaking of spending money on better things, are you carrying?"

"When aren't I, princess?" he snorted lightly.

The last class of the day passed slowly for you two, but before long (and to your pleasure), you were free to rush out of the room with the sounds of the last bell; stop at both your lockers, load up your bags that Eddie hoisted up his shoulder, and make a beeline for Eddie's van. Tuesdays were only for you and Eddie since you had other obligations on other weekdays, and he had Hellfire on Friday's; so, you both were quick to get in the front seats.

"All right," he cleared his throat, pulling out the black, buckled pail he used for drug deals and flipped the lid, "how can I serve you this time, pretty girl?"

"An ounce, please."

He shot you a cautious look before chuckling dryly, "Celebrating something?"

You slapped the agreed upon cash to his hand and snatched the baggie of green from him, "Possibly."

"Wanna tell me?"

"Wanna celebrate with me?"

"Only if you answer a question for me."

"Depends on the question, but... Proceed with caution and ask me."

"Go to prom with me?"

You glared, jaw clenching, "No."

"What?" he whined, "C'mon, why not?"

Because I've been uselessly and helplessly in love with you since we were kids and I don't want your pity date, you thought sadly.

"Because it's literally stupid and a waste of time, energy, and money. Besides, I thought you didn't want to go - you've never gone before. What happened to all that bullshit about it being a 'conforming brainwash to distract us from the manipulative realities of life after graduation'?"

"Okay, yes, fine, sure, okay, whatever, you got it - I said that," he sighed, rolling his eyes lightly. "But I also might've already bought two tickets, and they're nonrefundable..."

Confusion swirled in your mind, pinning him with a softer look, "Why would you buy two tickets?"

Because I wanted Chrissy Cunningham to say yes and figured she would if I showed her the two tickets - for me and her. Show her I was serious about this, about us, Eddie thought to himself.

Instead of voicing the truth, he lied, "Well, one for you, and one for me, pretty girl, see, that's how two tickets are usually split between two people. Maybe - it's possible - I could've wanted to spend the last night of high school with my best friend. C'mon, please?" He pouted lightly. "Bet we both clean up real nice."

You felt suspicious, "Why would you...?"

"C'mon, doll, don't we both deserve a bit of a break?" he smiled lightly. "Just you, me, a few joints, and really bad music. We can hang for 10 minutes and leave if it's really as bad as we thought. Hmm? Is that an okay deal?"

"If I say yes, will you shut up and drive us home already?"

He grinned, "Yep."

"Fine."

"Fine what, pretty girl?"

You glared, huffing through your nose before relenting, "All right - fine, Eddie. Fine, I will..." Your eyes rolled, "I'll go to prom with you."

Eddie grinned and leaned over, letting his arm hook around your neck and yank you closer to press his lips to your cheek in rapid kisses. You whined lightly and pushed him back, trying to fight down the warmth spreading in your chest from his actions.

Nobody knew you like he did, making you feel safe and vulnerable with only him. High school was a weird time for you and you didn't really get many dates, maybe being in part why you and Eddie were so close. Time spent together meant a lot of walls were dismantled brick by brick and it was hard not to fall in love with someone like him; with his soft hands, kind words, charismatic attitude...

Sure, the drug dealing was a bit... Less than ideal, but still! Eddie was Eddie and you've loved him for what felt like eternity.

You returned home on cloud nine and while it made your heart sing with glory over being asked to the senior prom with your long-time-crush-slash-best-friend, for the strangest reason, that night, you started coughing. It was a wet, rattling cough that made you think you had a flu, a cough growing in intensity that made you double at the waist and stumble towards your bathroom. You coughed more as you filled a plastic cup with tap water, choking as you tried to clear your throat by gulping down whatever was stuck. It worked for a few moments, cup drained as you lowered it before the violent attack began again.

This time, it drove you to your knees; hacking until you spit something from your tongue. Amongst the foam of your saliva, were bits of torn-up peach-pink petals. Your eyes glared at the odd sight before you figured it was too late to go to a doctor - how the hell would I even explain this one? At least last time, it all made sense what was wrong and how the doctors were gonna fix everything.

You rationalized it in your head that you would "go to the Emergency Room" if this persisted, which was an outright LIE because you had this developmental phobia of hospitals. It wasn't something you liked to discuss but long story short, when you were younger, you had a near-fatal medical emergency that resulted in a 6-part surgery, 109-day hospital stay - curating your fear.

Every appointment thereafter only solidified this fear. And your parents understood the trauma you experienced, never pushing you into anymore appointments because you agreed to a yearly examine that would confirm you were still out of danger.

So, when the next week rolled around and you were huffing fucking flower petals from your mouth and lungs, you kept your mouth shut... Unless to pick petals out - then, obviously, your mouth was open. However, that whole week, you felt... Run down. Disconnected. Confused. Scared. And pretty pissed off - the coughing was toe-curling painful and you weren't a fan of it interrupting your day.

Nancy and Robin noticed, and the Wheeler girl brought you cough-drops to suck on.

And that whole week, Eddie was distracted. He caught himself staring off in the cafeteria, eyes glued on Chrissy Cunningham's figure. You'd noticed the heart eyes he made and rolled your own, nudging him, "C'mon, man, knock it off and quit staring before Jason kicks your ass again."

He scoffs and crosses his arms, "I'm not staring."

"Oh, yeah? And I'm the Queen of Sheba," you retorted. "I could get you a pair of binoculars if that makes it easier," you teased, ignoring the way your heart now thumped with unease. Discomfort... Pain. "Maybe you can even crawl up the tree in her yard, watch her in her bedroom. Fucking creeper, stop staring at her, Jesus Christ!"

Eddie's then laughing at you, "You're literally an idiot."

"And you're staring at a girl who's boyfriend looks for reasons to pick on you," you retaliated with an unimpressed stare. "C'mon, Eddie, be practical."

"Be practical?"

"She's with Jason - has been since, what? Freshman year?" You sighed, arms crossing in the hope of relieving the pressure in your chest but found it was only getting harder to breath. "Staring at her is gonna get your shit rocked, and I'm not cleaning you up again."

"You're right," he sighed, shaking his head as his arms slowly crossed over your chest. "Hey, uh... Did you want to match at prom?"

"Match?" you repeated, laughing after you realized it was his poor attempt at changing the subject. "Wh-What? Like wear the same color and all that goofy shit?"

"Well, yeah, that goofy shit, c'mon, we gotta do it up all the way, baby," he smiled at you. "C'mon, you look so beautiful in red."

"Oh, I look good in it? Has nothing to do with the fact it's your favorite color?"

He grinned now, "Nothing at all."

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, admitting, "I'm going dress shopping with Nance and Robin this weekend."

"You are? Look at you!" He cooed, "Being all girly and shit! I'm proud of you!"

"Don't push me, there's still plenty of time for me to back out of this date," you warned, trying not to let your heart drop too low when his smile lessened upon hearing the word 'date'.

That weekend, you did go dress shopping but you didn't buy that pretty red number - you chose this pale silvery color that made your skin nearly twinkle. Robin had gushed over how good you looked, and Nancy refused to let you leave the store without it. You three went to a few other stores and you decided on a pair of shining red heels; Nancy buying a pretty lilac dress with silver heels, and Robin chose a sultry blue color, with white heels.

2 weeks before prom, you were starting to feel the pressure but not like everyone else as your peers ran around like headless chickens. All around school, girls complained about needing to "lose weight" or "buy a whole new dress" because "the original color was atrocious" or even how their boyfriends "made a reservation at Antonio's - as if I'd ever eat there!"

Boys complained, "I have to rent a tux in this God-awful blue color," or the ever present, "what the fuck is a corsage?" and the occasional, "what's wrong with Antonio's - they've got the best burgers, man!"

You listened mutely, worrying something was wrong with you because you didn't feel that overwhelming panic they did. Instead, your breathing got worse and your skin started to dull as life was virtually sucked out of you, prom seeming so fucking stupid - and yet, it was keeping you going. You hated to admit it, but your feelings for Eddie were finally coming to a head and you were debating if this "date" meant something more, or if it was just your stupid girly heart wanting something impractical.

That was the week your symptoms changed; the same week Eddie was seen speaking in low voices to Chrissy Cunningham at her locker when everyone else was in class. When nobody else was in the hall to see their close proximity, to see their whispers and longing looks.

Nobody else in the hall except you - but you were on a mission.

You didn't say anything to them because you were rushing to the bathroom, skidding to your knees on the dirty floors in front of a toilet as blood was being heaved out of your mouth. "No! God, no, please, God, holy shit!" You gargled through pain, spitting, retching, and sobbing as you were being shredded from the inside.

But God didn't have business in the girl's dirty bathroom of Hawkins High School, and apparently, he didn't have business with you.

Inside the toilet bowl were short sticks of floral blooms and leafy greens, but no matter how hard you looked, you couldn't identify the flower floating at the top. As disgusting as it was, you reached in and fished the bloody plants from the water, turned to the sinks, and rinsed them off; lifting your gaze slowly and hating the reflection that stared back at you.

Deep, bruising bags lined in rings around your eyes; iris' dull; skin tired and dry to the touch; hair brittle and lacking any health or shine. Your fingers were bonier, collarbones sticking out from under your shirt, and you began to wonder when the last time you could stomach a full meal was. You looked like a ghost, a stranger in the reflection; someone who looked like they'd sell their left kidney for a guaranteed hour-long nap.

Shaking your head and adverting your eyes, the flowers were rinsed of blood clots but it didn't do anything to answer your questions as the only identifying factor was the four-petal pinwheel. You jumped in fright when the door opened, turning wide, fearful eyes to look at Chrissy slowing her stride. She blinked a few times before worry etched across her face, "Oh, my God. A-Are you okay?"

"What?"

She pointed to her lips, "You're bleeding."

Your eyes cut back to the mirror and widened to see the blood smears, reaching for a few paper towels to hastily wipe at your face. Your nose sniffled sharply, "Yeah, Chris, all good, thanks."

"You don't look good," her brows were crinkled and eyes wide with worry. "Do you need the nurse? Or, um... I don't know, someone to talk to?"

"What I need, you can't give me," you whispered, shaking your head before using a dry paper towel to wrap up the small brown stick. "Excuse me," you rushed, pushing past her and running down the hall, shoving out of the school doors, and bolting for your car.

In your driver's seat, you opened the paper towel and got a look at the meat caught between thick thorns that didn't wash off down the drain, and fought off an anxiety attack.

Every day that week, you went to different plant nurseries, botanical shops, hardware stores - anywhere you thought someone could identify the flowers you were coughing out. You knew now you couldn't go to a hospital, it was futile; but the stems were morphing and it was becoming increasingly painful. Plus, if you were coughing out flowers, why wouldn't you go to someone who knew plants?

Well, the only thing you were able to do was identify the flower. Something called The Crown of Thorns - a durable, drought-tolerant flower with a range of colors, but all with a range of thorns in size and consistency.

However, on that Friday, luck turned around and you had hopped a few towns over to check out an old botanical shop. The wooden shop was lathered in books and plants, the smell of leather circulating around you as your eyes took in the antique decor. You prayed this was the shop to be in for something as strange as puking flowers - and you were right. The aging shopkeep listened to your hushed words, explaining your symptoms, before frowning deeply and turning silently to a bookshelf. She reached up and pulled a little blue book down before opening the passage, sticking a bookmark in, and handing it to you.

The old woman wished you luck and pushed you out of her door, never once accepting the money you tried to hand her. You laid in bed for the weekend, reading the entire book front to back; drops of blood saturating the thin, old yellowed pages.

The waste bin at home was soon stuffed to the brim with broken stems, loose petals, and bloody tissues. Your mother didn't notice the change in you because she was so focused on her up-coming business trip, your father choosing to go with her as a make-shift vacation to Chicago. In fact, you barely saw them in that week, leading you to seek solitude with a backpack full of magazines Nancy had shoved into your arms earlier.

She told you to have a hair and glam look picked out by prom because you, Robin, and she were going to get ready together. You tried to save blood from dripping onto the pages but the nose bleeds snuck up on you; discoloring the glossy images under your fingers. Tears often blurred the images as you could do nothing but cry through the harrowing pain, not knowing that Jason Carver was screaming at Chrissy Cunningham... And the cheerleader was calling Eddie Munson, in tears, asking him to talk.

You didn't know he agreed easily and was sneaking over to her house, being extra quiet because of her mother as he came in through her window; while you bruised your knees from the force you hit them when thicker blooms were being regurgitated through globs of thick blood clots. Shredded bits of your throat still stuck in the thorns.

The week of prom, you had resorted to taking liquid Benadryl just to sleep. It was doing enough of the trick, and you were sleeping 3-4 hours a night; but you woke up each morning, on your side, a large puddle of blood staining your bed sheets. But hey, at least it was PROM WEEK!

Right?

Banners lined the school.

Energy of the student body was higher than ever before, gossip echoing down the hall and in your ears.

Yet, you were just tired. Being in a constant state of pain took every ounce of energy you had and the Benadryl could only help so much before your coughs woke you, forcing you to hack out flowers. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, Eddie seemingly taking slight pity and letting your head rest on his shoulder during classes you shared. He even did your classwork, the sweetheart.

When you woke to the last bell dismissing everyone for the weekend, you were sluggishly lifting off of Eddie to pack away your backpack. "Hey," the boy beside you spoke quietly, "you feeling okay?"

"Yeah."

"Don't lie to me, you look exhausted."

"Great observation, Eds," you muttered. "I'm just not sleeping well."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Now, hey, um, I'm gonna get a ride home with Nancy, okay? We're getting our nails done."

Eddie's lips stretched in a bright grin as we stood from our desks and his hands took my backpack wordlessly to hike up his shoulder. "You're gonna get your nails done?"

"Um... Y-Yeah?"

"That's really cool, doll," he assured, nudging your arm gently. "Do you need money? I can give you some - "

"No, God no," you refused, shaking your head rapidly. "Um, yeah, you know, I asked Daddy and he gave me enough to treat Nancy too, so, I'm good."

He chuckled, "The pros of being a Daddy's Girl, huh?"

"Watch your mouth, Munson," you warned.

His hands rose, "All right, hey, I'm kidding, it's a good thing. Well, if I'm not driving you home, guess I'll just... See you tomorrow?"

You gulped as you approached your locker, rocking on your toes as you dialed your combo. "Right, yeah, sure... I'll uh... I don't know," you breathed, shaking your head slightly. "Nancy and Robin want to get ready together."

"Cool," he smiled, "I'll pick you up at Wheeler's, okay? 6:30 sound cool?"

"Yeah, totally cool," you nodded.

Eddie smiled and leaned in, one hand holding your cheek as his lips kissed your other. "Perfect," he breathed against your skin, pulling back to smile at you. "Just remember, it's only me, okay? We're gonna have a good time - no need to be nervous - 'cause we're gonna be together. Right?"

"Right," you nodded in agreement, his hand falling away as he straightened up. You looked to your feet, and Eddie's eyes jutted up to catch Chrissy as her locker - watching the two of you intently. When she caught Eddie's gaze, the cheerleader blushed and turned away. "So, I'll just - yeah, okay. See you tomorrow."

"I'll be the one in red," he joked, handing over your schoolbag. "Bye, pretty girl."

After you stuffed everything you didn't need in your locker, you pulled out whatever you did need, slammed it shut, and rushed for the front of the school. "Hey," Robin beamed when she saw you, linking arms instantly. "Nancy's at her car."

"Great..."

"C'mon, lighten up!" Robin jostled your arm but frowned when she looked at you. "Dude, your nose."

Your hand shot into your pocket and pulled out a trusted tissue, using it to mop up the red liquid, "Sorry, yeah, just... I don't know, dry air or something."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, sure, all good. Um, hey, have you ever gotten your nails done?"

"Me? No - couldn't afford it."

"Well, Daddy gave me money, so... I could pay?"

"You'd do that?" Robin breathed.

"Of course," you assured. "C'mon, you know he gave me more than I need, and Nance already worked this into her budget. Please? I don't wanna be the only one sitting there like 'what the fuck is happening?'"

Robin laughed, "All right, fine, good point. All right, cool, you can totally treat me and spend your money on me."

"Good," you perked a brow with a smirk.

The rest of the afternoon was spent at the nail salon. It was a fucking experience - a weird fucking experience because you didn't like hospitals, or people touching your feet. Nancy assured you that it was okay, this was part of the process; holding your hand when you flinched and made the nail tech glare up at you.

Your toes were painted a bright cherry red, matching the red French tip you got on your fingernails. Nancy chose a classic French tip on both hands and feet, and Robin got classic, sleek, shining blue that matched her dress color perfectly. You had to admit, once you got over the whole 'someone touching your feet' thing, it was nice to feel pampered... It was nice to feel like a "real" girl.

You rejected Nancy's proposal of a sleepover because you couldn't handle explaining to her or Robin why there was a puddle of blood under your mouth. Why you were hacking violently at 2 am. Why your breathing became wet and ragged, why you needed to take a shot of Benadryl before bed.

The next day, all hell broke loose because you were 20 minutes late to Nancy's house, and she almost instantly pushed you into a shower when you made it there. You three ladies got a real groove on where Nancy did all of your make-up, Robin did hair, and you - well, you were just there for the thrill because this was 100% out of your realm of comfort.

And when 6 pm came around, you three were shimmying into your dresses; tying each other in; lacing heels on, and fixing any out-of-place strands of hair. Jewelry was latched, perfume sprayed, and last minute details worried over. You packed your clutch purses with whatever necessities you needed (yours literally nothing but tissues) before being declared ready.

All the parents took a plethora of photos, your parents having begged the Wheelers to take extras for them to have a copy. It was mildly embarrassing to take photos alone, but you knew Eddie was just running late because he was never on time. Right? That's all this was, Eddie lost track of time and he was gonna be here any minute.

"Um, hey," Jonathan checked his watch, "dance starts soon, we should head out."

Nancy turned her worried gaze to you - who instantly lifted your arms to wave her off, "All good, I'll wait for Eddie at my house. The idiot probably got high and lost track of time, or something."

"Are you sure?" she worried. "Just come with us - he can meet you there."

"No, it's cool, my house is on the way to the school," you again, waved her off. "I'm really sure, I forgot the necklace I wanted to wear at home anyways," you tried to laugh off, but the truth was, your chest was caving in. After some mild convincing from Robin and Nancy, you stuck to your guns that you could wait at home, and as your friends got in their rides, you asked Mrs. Wheeler that if a long-haired, van-driving metalhead showed up to tell him you were at your house.

She nodded and handed you the Polaroids for your parents, leaving you to pack up in your own car and make the short drive to your house as dark storm clouds were rolling into town. When 7:30 struck, so did the first crack of thunder.

And unknown to you, who waited uselessly on your front porch, Eddie was getting read to head out his door - with every intention of being on time - when suddenly, as he ripped it open, Chrissy Cunningham was revealed on the other side. Her fist was raised as if to knock, gasping and jumping nervously when Eddie opened the door. "Chrissy," he breathed in shock, eyes wide. "Um... W-What're you doing here?"

As you waited, Chrissy explained she and Jason had the biggest fight they've ever had - cursing, screaming, and the blonde boy storming away with both prom tickets in his suit pocket. You waited, and Chrissy told Eddie she felt safe with him, needed the comfort, and had changed her mind about going to prom with Eddie, and as she confessed her long-harbored feelings for the Dungeon Master, you wiped blood from your mouth as you waited.

He ended up inviting her inside in home, both sitting on his couch with his hands in hers as he listened - something Jason never did to her. He complimented her, finding her red dress outstandingly beautiful on her pale skin; finding the blush on her cheeks something he wanted to see more of. He became tongue-tied and confused when she admitted she had a fight with Jason because of him - because Jason accused her of having a "thing for the Freak!"

And they broke up because Jason was right, and Chrissy told him that. She broke up with Jason because she loved Eddie and wasn't afraid of her feelings anymore; rushing to his house in a long red dress before prom because she needed him to know.

Chrissy loves me, he thought impossibly; staring at the cheerleader with shock and awe because this was all he's ever wanted. And Eddie didn't often think he deserved the things he wanted.

Nothing else was on his mind except the pretty strawberry blonde, lifting his hand to gently caress her cheek as any rational thought evaporated when her lips parted to push a breath over his chin. When Eddie leaned in to kiss Chrissy for the first time, nothing else mattered because he had all he ever could've wanted right here, right now.

They showed up to prom at 8 pm; both wearing bright, gleaming smiles as their outfits were matched perfectly. He had given her a corsage, and she pinned a boutonnière to his rented tux jacket; hands laced together tightly as they arrived at the Hawkins High gym and warranted all of the attention.

Everyone stared because the sight of head cheerleader, Chrissy Cunningham, showing up at prom looking like a fucking princess with Eddie Munson - the Freak, who, admittedly, cleaned up very nice.

The prom was enchanting with fake billowing arrangements of loose vines, flowers, and candles. The lights were dimmed, and the music already off to a rocky start by Eddie's standards. However, the snack table was in full-swing, the punch bowl already spiked, and Eddie couldn't want anything more as he let his hands wrap around Chrissy's waist.

They swayed to a slow song, enraptured with one another.

He lost himself in the music; in the smell of her perfume and feel of her body pressed against his. She let him kiss her, muttered she loved him, then pushed her hand into his hair to gently twist strands around her fingers.

Eddie was in bliss.

He was so fucking happy.

Nothing could ruin this for him.

Until, "What the fuck are you doing, Munson!?"

He jumped and turned, seeing an enraged Robin Buckley glaring at him. "Robin?" he questioned dumbly, seeing Nancy Wheeler charging up to them. "Oh, um, hi Nancy - "

"What the fuck are you doing here!?" Robin demanded, eyes ablaze.

"Dancing...?" He looked nervously around, keeping an arm around Chrissy.

"We can see that - but why're you dancing with Chrissy?" Nancy snapped.

"What am I missing right now?" Eddie asked desperately, hating the way they looked at him now.

Robin snapped your name, and all color drained from Eddie's face. "She's waiting on you, you fucking dickhead!" Robin raged, Vickie stepping in to pull her date's arms back a little.

"She got all excited," Nancy sneered. "She didn't want to come to this, she was content to be alone and do her own thing. We were gonna convince her to come with us - but then you asked her. So why're you here? Huh? Why're you here with Chrissy when she's waiting on you?"

"She bought a dress, new heels, new make-up! Got her nails done, got dolled up, looks so fucking pretty! And for what!? For you to, what, Eddie?"

"I-I," his bottom lip trembled as tears filled his eyes, "oh, my God, I forgot. I forgot her."

"No shit!" Robin, Vickie, Jonathan, and Nancy all snapped; making Chrissy jump a little into Eddie's embrace.

"You've gotta go, man!" Jonathan encoruaged.

"And pray she forgives you!" Robin sneered. "'Cause I sure as hell wouldn't! What happened? Huh?" Eddie shook his head, sniffling. "Jesus Christ, you're pathetic - what happened, Chrissy shows you a little attention and you forget about the one girl who's only ever loved you unconditionally?"

"GO!" the teenagers raged in sync again.

"I'm sorry," He looked down to Chrissy, pulling away, "I-I have to go."

"Of course, go, go," she nodded, giving him a little push as Eddie turned and sprinted out of the gym.

He sprinted into the rain, away from the school.

Down streets.

Through puddles.

Around honking cars.

All the way to your house, finding only your car in the driveway and lights on in your house. Panic swelled when he caught sight of the opened front door, sprinting up the driveway; taking the porch stairs two at a time, and as he burst over the threshold, came to a skidding halt.

A blood curdling scream fell on deaf ears as Eddie registered the sight before him - begging your name like a desperate prayer and dropping to his knees beside you. He sobbed harder than ever before, pulling you into his lap as blood was smeared up and down your nose, cheeks, and chin; mingling with the rain water that dripped off him, and onto you.

"No, no, no, no! C'mon, pretty girl, c'mon, open your eyes, please, please," he whispered, caressing your cheek and seeing your eyes flutter. "That's it, baby, c'mon, come back to me. Please, wake up, I'm right here, I'm here, I've got you... I'm so sorry. Oh, my God, what's happening, baby, please, what's wrong? What's going on?" he sobbed, cradling you against his chest and watching as your arm weakly rose to point behind him. "What? What is it?" He sniffled, looking back to the floor and seeing the littering of glass, broken lamp, and then... An old, bloody blue book.

"T-The book?" he asked you, seeing the faintest nod as your hand shook and gave up in strength. "No, no, no, no, hey, hey! No, baby, you've gotta stay with me, please," he sobbed, shaking you again as he tried to pull you in closer. "Just stay strong for a little while longer, oh, fuck - I'm so sorry! Please, don't give up, okay? I'm right here, please, I'm right here, I have you, please, baby, I-I don't understand what's wrong. Please, sweetheart, just tell me what's wrong! Don't leave me, please, I-I can't do this - I can't do this without you! NO! GOD - YOU CAN'T TAKE HER YET!" He screamed bloody murder over the sounds of the raging storm, watching your eyes flutter back into your skull and any energy in your body completely deflated.

"Y-You were - you pointed at the book, baby, why? Please! Why the book, please, stay with me, okay? Why the book? You're - shit, it's okay, you're gonna be okay, but you have to stay with me, please, please! Just tell me about the book, baby, please! Talk to me - please! Fuck!" He sniffled, trying to wake you but from the way your eyes remained unseeing, he knew you weren't with him anymore; the way your mouth was gently parted but not passing air, he knew you were gone. "Please, God, no," Eddie whimpered, a hand raising to pet his fingers down her soft cheek.

Eddie screamed until his throat went raw; never knowing that the inside of her throat still dripped blood into her stomach. Tears soaked down his cheeks, rocking her with him as snot bubbled at his nostrils, but he could only beg, "COME BACK! NO! I'M SORRY - COME BACK! Please! Please," his voice cracked, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean - I'm so sorry. No, no, no, please, just - just come back! I'm sorry! Come back to me," his hand caressed her cheek, "please."

Nothing made sense and his head throbbed; looking around desperately as his mind couldn't fathom what he'd discovered - but his eyes could only scan over that fucking book she spent her last moments of life pointing at. Her skin was cooling, and there was no pulse at the point of her neck; Eddie's calloused hands shaking as he tried to still wake her up.

Then, he caught sight of something in her mouth, behind the ruby-red painted lips. As terrible and disgusting as it was, he gently pulled her stiff jaw down and used his pointer finger and thumb to reach in, pinch something soft, pulling it out. "Please, God, what is this!?" He sobbed, setting the small, thickly-thorned flower to the side of him as the feeling of her sticky blood was making him feel sick. "Please, please, please wake up," he still begged, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry," he sniffled, sopping wet hair dripping water over her still face. "I'm so sorry - I should've been here. I'm so sorry, I should've - I should've done something! FUCK!"

He sobbed as he set her down to rush for the phone, dial 911, and explain the situation. He returned to pull her body back into his lap; rocking like it was soothing someone - whether her, or him, he wasn't sure. But Eddie had to do something, so he tried CPR - but stopped when each compression of her chest sent a splatter of blood over her smooth skin.

Eddie went in the ambulance with her body, tattered book in his hand; using the other to hold her cooling hand even when the EMT's pronounced her dead on the scene.

This wasn't happening - this wasn't real.

Eddie waited for hours as an autopsy was performed - telling the morgue he wasn't leaving until he had answers, and planting himself on the sidewalk as he vapidly read the book she wanted him to take. The pages that answered all of his questions were dotted with dried drops of her blood; allowing Eddie to assume she was suffering for longer than he could've imagined. It's where Jonathan and Nancy found him when they were cruising through town, looking for any sign of their friends. When they arrived and sat beside him, softly asking Eddie what was wrong and what happened, he just pulled his knees in and sobbed loudly.

They waited with him.

16 hours after he found her, her parents were coming to a screeching halt in their car before bolting for the morgue's front doors. Eddie picked his head up, waiting; wondering; watching for any movement.

His hand fisted the book in a white-knuckle grip, the other wiping his eyes of stinging, guilty tears.

18 hours after he found her, her parents were shakily exiting the morgue with grim looks of acute distress. Her Daddy caught Eddie's eyes and after assisting his wife into the passenger seat, turned for the young man who his daughter loved more than anyone. Nancy and Jonathan shared a nervous look as Eddie couldn't stop crying, looking to her father through red eyes.

"I was told that... You found her?" Her Daddy whispered.

"I-I did," Eddie whispered.

He nodded, "She was still in her dress, all dolled up."

"Sh-She looked beautiful in that dress," Eddie sobbed, a hand slapping over his mouth.

"Docs know what happened," he nodded, clearing his throat. "Said there were Crowns of Thorns crowding in her lungs. Said it made it almost impossible to breath, said-said that the thorns were cutting her from the inside; said she was in a lot of pain from all that."

Eddie hated the idea of her suffering, opening the withered book to show her Daddy the folklore she'd discovered. Nancy and Jonathan shuffled down the sidewalk a little, watching as her father turned and dropped to the concrete beside Eddie; backs against the morgue building as he read the inked words through dried blood. Her father gingerly leafed through a few pages before sighing sadly, nodding in acceptance.

"I killed her," Eddie whispered. "I-I couldn't see that she was suffering, and... And I killed her."

"You didn't - "

"Didn't you read what I did?" Eddie snipped, sunken, haunted eyes staring at her father and begged him to understand. "Sh-She got sick because she loved me, and I couldn't love her back. She's gone - because of me."

"Unrequited love is never really anyone's fault," her father sighed, closing the book and handing it back to Eddie. "I just... I just hate my little girl suffered."

Eddie's heart shattered, nodding before whispering, "Me too. I didn't help her," Eddie wobbled. "I-I promised I'd always help her, I promised I'd always be there for her - an-and I wasn't." His eyes filled with tears as he admitted, "I forgot her, and went to prom with another girl - "

However, this made her father bristle, and he snapped, "Don't you say another word if you want us to keep our good opinion of you. Because if I find out that you're telling me that... That my little girl was waiting on you, and that she died alone, I'm going to lose it, Eddie. You hear me?" The younger man swallowed thickly and nodded. Her father nodded once, "Good."

Eddie had to remind himself that the man just lost his daughter, and his 180 attitude change was completely warranted. If Eddie were in her father's place, he was sure he wouldn't know what to do either except hate whoever was responsible.

"Could I ask you for a favor?" Eddie asked through his tears; Steve Harrington pulling up with his car loaded with Freshman, plus Robin, and Vickie - and yeah, even Chrissy - only to pause and watch the scene on the sidewalk.

"What is it, boy?"

Eddie reached up and pulled the necklace from around his neck, handing it over with a shaking hand, "Y-Your daughter got me this pick when I first told her I wanted to learn the guitar when were were kids. She, uh... She always knew how to make me feel supported, so, I just... I don't know," Eddie's voice cracked painfully and tears poured down his cheeks, "I just thought she should have it back... Just to... Have a little piece of us wherever she ends up."

Her father swallowed and shook his head, "I'm not burying my only child with a keepsake from the man who killed her." Eddie's eyes widened and his hand retracted, pulling the necklace into his chest as her father's red-rimmed eyes turned to him, "We'll tolerate you going to the funeral, we might let you read something, too. After that, make no mistake, we want nothing to do with you. She was..." Her father shook his head as the words stuck in his throat like flower petals had done to her's, "She was the best of us, and you ruined her. I hope you know that all she did was love you, and I hope the guilt sticks with you, kid. Because her mother and I will never know peace... You took that from us when you decided to take another girl to prom and forget about my innocent baby girl. Now, I get to identify her body and instead of picking out a graduation dress, I get to pick out a casket." The two men held eye contact for another minute, her father shaking his head, "Never thought it'd be you, boy, but... I've been disappointed by you before."

"I'm sorry," Eddie gasped through his emotion. "I'm so sorry, I feel terrible, please, please know that I'm so fucking sorry."

"Sorry don't bring the dead back. Sorry won't fix my girl, I can't ever get her back and you? You get to live a long, happy life... Love many girls... And my little girl? My only child? My ray of sunshine in this shitty, cursed town?" Her father scoffed, "She got a cruel and unusual punishment that made her suffer because you could never get your head outta your ass long enough to see how she felt. She didn't deserve that."

"She didn't," Eddie agreed brokenly. His guilt felt insurmountable, but increased tenfold to understand her parents blamed him - that was okay, because he blamed himself.

Her father stood to his feet and sniffled, nodding at Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers (still in their prom clothes). Before he could walk away, Eddie's best friend's father nodded down at a defeated Eddie, leaving him with one last comment, "Now you're seeing clearly, and now, you'll only get to only see her from inside a coffin. Some best friend you are."

Eddie sobbed on the sidewalk for at least another hour, everyone surrounding him and passing the blood-splattered book around that explained her untimely end. Both your friends cracked with emotion; Steve leaning in to hold Robin as Nancy sobbed into Jonathan's shoulders, the kids with tears just silently falling down their cheeks.

However, despite knowing he deserved it, the others didn't blame him, and instead, tried to offer a small amount of comfort to the distressed metalhead who had held his dying best friend in his arms, in her final moments. He didn't know about her feelings, and she never voiced them openly - nobody could blame him for wanting to date. Nobody could blame him for not knowing his best friend harbored deep secrets.

Still, while his friends didn't, Eddie blamed himself.

Damn near the whole town went to her funeral.

Damn near everyone - except the boy who killed her; who chose to wait at the graveyard, wait until her casket was lowered, wait until everyone left, and wait until the dirt was pushed back into the hole she'd been lowered into before he approached. He did so slowly, hands in his prom suit pants pockets that now doubled as funeral attire; a bouquet of flowers silently laid on her grave.

Eddie dropped to his knees in the dirt; sobbing until his chest hurt, and then sobbing some more.

He begged her spirit to forgive him - despite knowing he never deserved it. Nothing made sense to him, and he hated how empty his life was without her. He agonized over the last few weeks the two of you had together, cursing himself for not noticing; and hating himself more for forgetting.

Every single Tuesday, Eddie visited her grave. Like when you two were in school, you hung out together on Tuesdays, and Eddie kept the tradition. He brought new flowers every other week, and started to keep a journal so he could easily update her about his life, as if there were only distance between them - and not transcending planes of the living and dead. He and Chrissy eventually got married, and never once did she try to interrupt his Tuesday plans because even after she were gone, Chrissy knew there was no replacing her as Eddie's best friend - not even Chrissy could fill that void.

Her parents eventually moved to Tennessee to live with other family, dropping off only a box of her things they figured Eddie would want, but he could never leave Hawkins. He couldn't - not when she were buried there. He couldn't - not when that's the town he met her in. He couldn't - not when this was both of your homes, and the only town you both ever knew. He couldn't - not when his guilt was preventing him from ever considering moving on.

Chrissy hated watching him suffer but there was nothing that could alleviate the stress and guilt Eddie felt. There was nothing to do but let him disappear to the graveyard every single Tuesday because it seemed to be the only thing that brought him the smallest sliver of comfort. He felt close to her on those Tuesdays, and nothing would deter him - not even that crazy wicked snow storm of '91.

He never left Hawkins because Eddie had forgotten you once, and it cost him everything - so, he promised to never forget you again.

i'm sorry

[daddyhausen]

• you and me, forevermore •

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{ masterlists } | { aew masterlist } | { chuck taylor masterlist }

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{ commission info } | { like my work? buy me a coffee <3 }

{ summary } — dustin has feelings of self doubt after you were forced to watch him get attacked during that parking lot brawl.

{ warnings } — injury, blood, forced to watch, hurt/comfort, soft sex, praise, fingering, shower sex, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, male + female orgasms, multiple orgasms, squirting vaginal creampie, internal cumshot

{ word count } — 4.8k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x chuck taylor

{ genre } — hurt/comfort, smut

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{ taglist } — @cosmoholic13 @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @elsteenerico @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie

{ beta readers } — @allelitesmut + @legit9thlunaticwarrior

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

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your blood ran cold at the sight. the carnage that unfolded behind only a single wall from you. you stared in horror at the monitor, throat running dry upon seeing your brother drenched in his own blood, trent’s eyes glazed over, deep browns seeming so lifeless as his head was slammed into the hood of a car by a vicious jon moxley. you winced, a pseudo-feeling as if your own head had collided with the exterior, watching the blood trickle down your brother's skull.

“oh god, i can’t look…” you muttered to yourself shying away into the shoulder of an equally worried orange cassidy, whose eyes, although covered by his sunglasses, displayed the same expression of shock and horror, his eyebrows knitted together, lips forming into a disgusted scowl. he kept a hand firmly around your shoulder, a comforting, protective hold, squeezing tightly with reassurance.

“jesus…” orange muttered under his breath, the sound mixed with a gasp of some sort. despite the horrors that played out on the monitor, and the desire to keep your eyes averted from the screen, not wanting to face whatever it showed. despite that you looked anyway upon feeling orange’s arm tense up around you.

you peered up, eyes widening and instantly welling over with tears, a gasp barely squeaked from your throat. there dustin laid, his head encapsulated in a pool of his own blood, the crimson mask washed over his peachy-tan skin, eyes half rolled back in his skull, looking half dead himself. an enraged wheeler yuta hovered over him, screwdriver in hand, a gleeful moxley watched on as his protege drove the weapon deeper into dustin’s forehead.

dustin had spared his former student from a beating, he still held love for the boy he once trained. the same could not be said for wheeler, who did not hesitate, fueled by anger and hatred, his former mentor’s blood now dripping through the cracks in his fingers.

“i…i need to go out there-“

“are you insane, what if you get hurt?!” a normally mellow orange cassidy spoke up in a fit of worry, the arm that was once wrapped around your shoulder now tightly clenched around your wrist, holding you back from aiding your brother and your fiancé.

“i could care less about myself right now!”

you ripped your arm from orange’s grasp in a state of panic, desperate in aiding the two men you cared most about in this world. the act left orange perplexed for a moment, watching on as you tried to decipher the halls and corridors that led to the entrance of the parking lot. he admired your courage no matter how stupid the situation seemed, he surely knew that dustin and trent would have his head if anything were to happen to you.

you were on autopilot, vision blurry through a cascading waterfall of tears, mind hazy with possibilities of what horrors could have happened to your brother and beloved. the bellows of the crowd drew closer, a foggy light emitting from the parking lot entrance followed by the thunderous sound of metal clashing against concrete. with a panicked orange cassidy hot on your tail, you turned the corner, greeted by the sight you had witnessed mere moments ago on the monitor. your brother the closest to you, claudio looming over like a dark cloud while trent writhed in his own blood.

you froze, feet felt as if they’d been glued to the floor the only thing that you could do was stare as you brother got beaten to a bloody pulp, how his blood seeped from his skull into the concrete below. sure, you’ve seen your brother beaten and bloody, but never to this extent, not in the way claudio was bludgeoning him.

your eyes burned, breath paralyzed in your chest. a burst of adrenaline hitting you, charging at claudio with all your might, fists balled up throwing careless punches in the direction of the swissman. said punches were merely thuds against his back paying no mind to your desperate, weak attempts at him to stop the assault on trent.

claudio stopped for a mere moment, he stood up, his sizeable frame towering over you like a mighty oak, hands stained red with your brothers blood, the crimson trickle down his knuckles and fingertips to the concrete below. he turned to face you, cocking his head to the side with slight inquisition. you tried to put on a brave face, tried to mask your tears for your brother’s sake. claudio leaned over you slightly with a small chuckle, his breath laboured, lightly fanning your forehead.

“what’s this? come to protect your brother now, have you?

he mockingly pet the top of your head, trent’s blood staining your hair as you gave a frightened whimper.

“aren’t you a brave little thing?”

you did not want to relinquish eye contact, afraid of his next move, although you could not help but notice orange’s pained groans from behind you. you turned your head, catching a mere glimpse of moxley whipping orange with a chain before claudio grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

your body stiffened up, feeling your heart drop into the pit of your stomach at the unwanted contact.

“not so fast, little one.” you mentally cringed at the nickname he anointed you with.

before you could even comprehend his words or even catch a glimpse of your brother laying face down in a pool of his own blood, claudio grabbed you by the wrists, his large hand could easily engulf both at once. he dragged you away from your brother, trent was unconscious, still breathing thank god, but he had not moved since your arrival. and orange…you just hoped mox would stop his assault soon.

claudio’s grip was tight, sure to leave red marks by the time he’d hopefully let go. despite your struggle and silent protest he would not let up. he led you behind a silver car, your mind in a daze, you did not comprehend the situation in front of you until he spoke up again. although his words absent in your ears.

you came to, peering down at your feet, horrified at the sight below. wheeler yuta hovered over your beloved, still continuing to bludgeon him with a screwdriver into that open wound on his forehead. your throat ran dry, feeling an overwhelming sense of nausea washed over you. you thought you’d run out of tears to cry, but seeing dustin in such a state it was heart breaking.

“dustin…” you whimpered. trying to break free from claudio’s grasp, to lunge yourself over your fiance and shield him from their violence. claudio’s grip only tightened, locking your arms behind your back, keeping you secured to his chest.

yuta stopped his assault momentarily, dropping the screwdriver by his side, staring up at you with a sickly grin as dustin reached a hand out in the direction of your voice. yuta’s empathy had been torn to shreds by the BCC; he was no longer that sweet innocent boy dustin helped train; he was a violent, vicious killer, hell bent on causing havoc with every step. once yuta had caught your distress, just as dustin’s fingertips met the tip of your shoe he began to bludgeon him again, using only his fist.

“stop…please…” you begged, voice barely above a whimper, throat hoarse and raw from pleading for mercy. you could feel claudio’s smirk against the nape of your neck, grinning from ear to ear at your lover’s torment.

mox sauntered around the corner with his usual, relaxed demeanour, completely unfazed by the bloodshed he and the rest of the bcc had caused. he threw the fork he’d used to bleed your brother dry. the clink of the metal against the concrete was sickening. he noticed you in claudio’s grasp, begging and pleading over the almost lifeless body of your fiancé. he smirked, a wicked thought conjuring in his mind.

he grabbed your shoulder, forcibly pushing you onto your knees, not quite eye level with dustin but enough that you could see the hope drain from his eyes. the bright green now a steely grey. jon cupped your cheeks directing your head to dustin, making sure that the image of him beaten and battered was permanent in your memory.

“look at him.” jon forced your face closer to dustin as wheeler held him up by the bloody roots of his hair. so close you could actually smell the iron of the crimson.

“he’s pathetic. can’t even protect himself let alone his girl. are you sure this is the guy you wanna marry, miss y/n?”

you remained silent, physically unable to speak as you stared into dustin’s eyes. they were glassy, bloodshot and burning from his own blood leaking into them. they were empty, void of any emotion other than heartbreak and worry. as much as he wanted to hold eye contact with you, a silent reassurance that he was alright, physically he couldn’t, the loss of blood proved too much for him, he was tired, broken, a shell of a man.

“it ain’t too late, dollface. if you wanna change your mind, you just give us a call” jon smirked, rubbing the bloody pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, following the action with a flirtatious wink. you felt sick to your stomach, that and the taste of iron upon your lips did not help.

you bared your teeth, biting down hard on his thumb, as hard as you could muster. not enough to draw blood by any means but strong enough that you hoped it would elicit a reaction from a masochist such as moxley. instead, he only smirked, a sick twisted, almost perverted smile, as if the sick bastard was actually enjoying himself.

“oh would you look at that” jon turned his head, now facing claudio, barely acknowledging the bite. “pretty little thing got some bite to her, she’d be perfect for us”

“i know a way we could put that mouth to better use” yuta chimed in, still holding dustin up by the scalp. dustin made weak attempts to protest the lewd remarks made by his former protege despite the metaphorical nails clawing at the inside of his throat, a disgusting burn that ached every time he swallowed. yuta released his grip, dropping the screwdriver in the process, his body loomed over yours, even more so as he knelt before you, keeping eye contact that you very much would have liked to avoid. he gripped your chin harshly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“i heard she’s pretty good at using it” that remark from yuta could be a testament to your sharp tongue or something more vulgar. you decided on the latter given his previous comment, which no doubt made you cringe internally with disgust.

jon simply tilted his head, signalling for claudio and yuta to cease their assault. claudio dropped your arms, shoving you to the ground with a rough thud, grazing your elbows against the concrete, you let out a sharp hiss, a sound which made dustin’s ears prick up with panic. yuta let dustin’s head fall to the floor, luckily you were able to place your hand underneath his temple before it made contact with the ground.

yuta said nothing, merely eyeing you as he sauntered off with the other two, offering your brother one last kick before leaving the parking lot. you crawled closer to dustin, managing to make it to your knees and cradle his head securely in your lap. his eyes closed, breathing had slowed. he was a wreck, drained of energy.

“dustin, look at me please…” you whimpered through tears, cupping his bloodstained cheeks in your palms. it took him a few seconds, eventually he let his eyes flutter open. he saw an angel. he saw heaven, he saw you. he opened his mouth to speak before you cut him off.

“shhh, don’t speak. it’s me, i’m right here” your voice shaky, still trying to quell the sobs that raged in your throat. he closed his mouth, instead raising his hand to cup your cheek, caressing the skin. he widened his eyes, horrified at the bloodstain his finger prints had left behind. he gulped thickly trying to blink back the tears that were threatening to spill, instead grabbing your palm, the one against his cheek, pressing his lips to your engagement ring, letting his lips linger there for a moment before pulling away, a sob rose in his throat, the once crystal white diamond now stained with droplets of ruby red.

it was as if you were an untouched canvas and him a tormented artist, every brushstroke of his skin against yours taints you. how could he let someone as beautiful as you be ruined by his blood?

-

he remained silent as the doctor stitched up his wound. practically dead to the world, in his own paranoia filled trance only brought back to reality for a short moment by the subtle squeeze of your hand in his. although his vision blurred, head spinning with a possible concussion, in his peripherals, he noticed the spots of red littered throughout the lavender sundress you were wearing. a large stain at the end of its skirt. once again, his blood had tainted your beauty. his eyes panned up, heartbroken as he noticed you were avoiding his gaze, was he really that horrible to look at right now? his eyes continued to scan your figure, your elbows were cut and beginning to bruise.

he was overwhelmed with anger for being so weak as to allow claudio and mox to get their hands on you. he saw red, yet was too overcome with exhaustion to mutter anything more than a whisper.

“you’re hurt…and the blood-” he barely croaked out, there was an unnatural rasp in his voice.

“i’m fine dustin and the blood is not mine” you smoothed over the back of his hand with your thumb in an effort to console him.

“but it’s mine…”

you gave a soft sigh in response, silently thanking the doctor as he finished stitching up dustin’s forehead. you were overcome with emotion yet could not bring yourself to say anything, just basking in the uncomfortable silence as dustin failed to meet your gaze. you’d never seen your love so broken, so fragile, he barely responded to the soft tug on his arm as you tried to rouse him out of his self induced trance.

the door swung open, orange stumbling inside, clutching his ribs with your brother on his arm. an equally worried statlander aiding your brother also. she made eye contact with you, offering a silent, yet apologetic smile for her absence. you turned to dustin, who now finally locked eyes with you, glancing into your teary bloodshot eyes with a minute of love and fear. he titled his heads towards the door, signaling for you to go check on trent. you gave his hand a rough squeeze, a quiet rebuttal to his action.

“go.” he muttered through a broken voice. you sighed softly, planting a gentle kiss to his forehead, right on his newly stitched up wound before going to check on your brother.

orange and kris sat trent down on a crate by the door. offering a parting glance to their teammate before going to check on dustin.

“jesus christ are you alright?” you questioned, panic ranging through your voice. “mom is gonna have a heart attack when she finds out”

“mom will be fine, she’s seen me in much worse condition.” trent’s lightheartedness seemed out of place for this current situation. still you had to commend him for being so chipper despite just receiving the beating of his life.

the room fell silent for a moment as you observed your brothers injuries. a cut to his forehead, near the hairline, the other atop his head. his shoulders and back torn to shreds. he gave a small wince as he placed a haphazardly made ice pack to his left shoulder.

“how’s he holding up?” trent motioned his head toward dustin, who sat at the far end of the room, remaining dead silent as kris and orange tried their best to communicate with him.

“physically he’ll be fine…” you began, turning back to face your love, seeing how he had not raised his head from the ground since you left his side.

“emotionally…i don’t know. he’s barely said a word since everything happened…”

your throat grew tight, sobs threatening to spill.

“do you think he’s mad at me for going out there?” you stuttered through your words, turning back to face your brother. trent bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating his next sentence

“although it was a stupid thing for you to do, he’s not mad at you, he loves you too much, kid”

trent pulled you into his shoulder, despite the seering pain. he hugged you tight, determined to comfort his little sister in her time of anguish.

“now go take care of him, i’ll be fine.”

“are you sure?” you questioned, swiping some of the congealed blood from his cheeks.

“yeah don’t worry about me, i got kris and orange to take care of me”

-

the drive home from daily’s place was met with uncomfortable silence. you helped dustin into the passenger seat despite his silent protests. opting to drive since the blood loss would prove too dangerous for him to drive. he sat there begrudgingly, staring dead into the road in front of him or on the odd occasion at him twiddling his thumbs in his lap. for hours this went on, you chose not to speak, for the heartbreak in your voice might set off tears for the both of you.

you just wanted to be home with him right now, safe and warm behind the walls that you owned, in your own bed cuddled up with your fiancé. the love of your life, but the drive from jacksonville to kentucky was more than ten hours and you were not going to risk the fatigue. instead opting to book a hotel for the night. dustin could not stop repeating the words moxley had been spouting to you during their conflict, finding himself agreeing with said words

he was pathetic. he did fail to protect you. he wasn’t even sure if he even deserved to be marrying you.

you could sense that he was in his head so you reached over to untangle his fingers to lace them with your own. reminiscent of the taxi ride to the park where he proposed. those three small squeezes of reassurance and comfort.

you pulled up into the hotel parking lot. throwing on your cardigan, wrapping yourself in the thick material so as to not worry any staff with what blood still stained your dress. dustin remained catatonic, only responding with simple yes’s and no’s to any question asked. you managed to secure a room despite the lateness and unexpectedness of your arrival, the both of you still remaining distant to each other inside the elevator as it took you to the third floor.

“are you alright?” you finally broke the silence as the two of you entered the hotel room. dustin set his bag beside the door, chewing his bottom lip anxiously.

“i uh…” he stammered. “i just wanna have a shower”

you nodded in response, taking him by the shoulder lightly, planting a long, delicate kiss to his cheek before letting him go. he offered you a small smile in return before hastily making his way into the bathroom. once you heard the door close you gave a heavy sigh, still trying to hold back tears, swallowing your sobs with a thick gulp. you knew he was hurting right now, you needed to be strong for him.

you removed your cardigan, grabbing your bags to place them into your bedroom for the night, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in the small corridor. you stopped in your tracks, eyeing yourself. your favourite dress, stained with the blood of your beloved, your knees bruised and elbows grazed, mascara smeared around your bottom lashes from crying, you looked like a mess but dustin evidently felt much worse.

you stripped yourself. only remaining in your bra and panties as you tossed the dress into the washing machine residing behind a sliding door next to the bathroom. it won’t do much in removing the stain fully but at least it will get most of the blood out.

through the mix of the shower water and the washing machine, soft sniffles could be heard from the bathroom, your heart sank as you pressed your ear against the door, hearing dustin’s muffled sobs from outside.

“dustin..?” you questioned quietly, he ignored you, the sound of his presence could still be heard. you pursed your lips tightly together. stripping off your bra and panties as you entered the bathroom. dustin faced away from you, the water hitting his back as he had his head pressed against the shower wall. small streaks of red flowed down his perfect body, despite the solemn scenario you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

you quietly entered the shower, pressing your body close to his, arms wrapping around his torso as you let the warm water encapsulate you both. you cupped his cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the stubble of his beard as you bared your soul to him through your gaze.

“why are you crying, my love?” he peered down at you, cheeks hot and eyes puffy with tears.

“i’m sorry…” he began “you shouldn’t have had to see me like that”

“like what…? bloody?-“

“no.” he interrupted harshly. a thick gulp rose in his throat.

“weak” he spoke up after a moment of silence.

“dustin you’re not weak-“

“yes i am!” he sobbed. “you heard mox. i’m pathetic! you were the one person in this world i wanted to protect and i couldn’t even do that right!”

he held onto you for dear life, so afraid of letting you go.

“why do you love me, y/n? how can you keep loving me after seeing me lose time and time again?” his breath shaky and hoarse

“you don’t deserve to be married to someone like me. you deserve a winner like claudio, someone who can protect you, like moxley…” he paused for a moment, a look of disdain growing on his handsome features

“hell…even yuta-“

“don’t you even start” you held his gaze when he began to avert his eyes.

“i don’t want claudio mox, and you know yuta would never stand a chance, dustin. i love you, i’ve only ever wanted you. if i were in a room with a hundred men i’d always choose you. i can’t wait to be your wife”

your voice cracked, begging for him to see reason in your words.

“but why?” he stammered. “why do you love me?”

“dustin…” you hummed, pressing your forehead against his.

“your smile brightens up my day, your laugh i could recognise anywhere. the way you scrunch your nose when you’re deep in thought or the way you stick your tongue out when you’re concentrating.”

you continued to praise him with words of your adoration.

“you’re so kind, so caring, to everyone you meet. you’re talented, smart, you’re so unabashedly you.”

you cupped his cheeks firmly in your palms, keeping your gaze fixated on his.

“i love the way the way you love me. you look at me like i’m the only woman in the world, you treat me like a queen even though sometimes i feel i’m not deserving of it. even when we’re at our worst, you never stop loving me. and that is why i love you”

dustin pursed his lips into a thin line, a soft exhale through his nostrils

“and i’ll always be there for you. win or lose. if you’re holding a belt up high or writhing in your own blood-“

dustin winced at the mention of blood.

“i’m never leaving your side”

you pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, lingering there for a moment, feeling his bottom lip quiver, trying to muffle a sob. he gave a shaky exhale through parted lips. removing your hands from his cheeks, gingerly placing them around his neck.

“let me at least prove that i am a man deserving of your love”

“dustin, you don’t need to prove anything-“

“please, y/n!” his voice broke through a slight crack “just let me do the one thing i know how to do right”

you cocked your head in slight confusion, feeling dustin reciprocate your previous actions, cupping your cheeks, pulling you in for a passionate, fiery kiss. he moaned softly against your lips, smoothing the apples of your cheeks with the calloused pads of his thumbs.

“dustin-“ you managed to squeak in between kisses

“shh sweetheart, let me make you feel good”

he angled his hips against yours, swirling them slightly. you felt his cock hardening against your upper thigh, right in the axis of your hip, grinding himself into you. the water covered the both of you, with your eyes closed, it felt as if the two of you were entombed behind the curtains of a magical waterfall. you melted into the kiss, succumbing to the power of him, letting him embrace you tight against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin radiate against yours

“jump.” he demanded softly, breaking the kiss barely for a couple of seconds before diving in once more. you complied, jumping into his arms, your back pressed against the wall as he adjusted himself. his cock teasing your entrance momentarily, his tip tracing circles against your clit, feeling your wetness began to pool against your folds.

you jutted your hips forward slightly, the head of his cock entombed by your warmth, his mouth hung agape against yours, breathing moans of your praise against your skin. he guided himself in, a pleasured groan escaping his lips.

“fuck…so good for me” he breathed out, your warmth finally full with himself your hips guiding his movements with slow gentle swirls, feeling his cock swell inside you with pleasure.

he kept his movements deliberately slow, wanting your pleasure to be drawn out as long as he could hold it. you whimpered into his shoulder, teeth lightly nipping at the skin.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart,” he repeated like a mantra. “i’m sorry i scared you.”

“dustin…” you whined, trying to compose yourself as he slid in and out of you, hips rocking with your movements. “it’s not your fault…”

dustin hooked one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist with ease, the other hooked atop his arm. the sheer size difference between the two of you was enough to complement his strength in holding you up.

“i love you. i love you so fucking much it hurts…”

dustin’s groans increased with the speed of his thrusts, his hands gripped your flesh tighter, his kisses became more intense than before.

“god…i can’t wait to marry you…” he grunted, pressing open mouth kisses to the column of your neck. “fuck if i could marry you right now, i would sweetheart”

you remained silent for the moment, just letting yourself bask in the sound of his moans, letting them ring and reverberate in your ear. your walls clenched around him, a thick pulse rising between your thighs, arousal churning in your stomach as you cling to him. you felt no need to announce your orgasm, dustin already felt the impending gush of your sweetness, letting himself succumb to. his own arousal, muttering a chorus of “i love you”’s against your skin

he released, giving one final thrust, burying himself deep inside you. his cock pulsing against your walls, pumping load after load of hot cum deep into your void. you melted into him at the sensation, the warmth of his seed was enough to send you over the edge with a pleasured cry, making a mess of his cock as wetness drenched your inner thighs.

he held you there for a moment, making sure that he had completely drained himself inside of you before letting you down easy. your thighs weak, having to stabilise yourself between the wall and his broad chest for a moment. dustin rested his forehead against yours, trying to regain his breathing.

“let’s do it then…” you panted breathlessly

“huh?” he questioned, mind still hazy from his orgasm.

“let’s go get married.” you smiled sweetly up at his. he reciprocated the action, mind still coming too with your words

“wait, seriously? like right now?”

“yes, right now! you said you couldn’t wait”

dustin cupped your cheeks once more, peppering sweet kisses to each high point of your face, tears of joy now evident in his eyes, he stared down at you with such unfiltered adoration. such love in its purest form.

“i love you so much, sweetheart. more than you’ll ever know”

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

[switchbladedreamz]

A Dutton In Love

Requested? Nope

Summary: Rip has been meaner than usual lately. Rip Wheeler x fem!reader fluff

Warnings: mentioned female masturbation, cursing, that's it.

"C'mon Beast" I say as I lead my horse out of the stable. His black coat shining in the Montana sun, a cool breeze ever present. Standing in the left stirrup I mount my horse. "Where you headed today little lady?" Lloyd asks, resting against the gate. "Lloyd I ain't no lady, and I'm taking Beast to a trip into town, he could use the long walk.". I pat the left side of his neck, Lloyd looks up at me. "Alrighty. Well Rip wanted me to let you know that you'll be accompanying him and Kayce to the cattle auction tonight.". "Well Lloyd, congrats on the new job. I didnt know you were a messenger now. Please be so kind and tell them I'll be back before we leave.". He chuckles and walks away, shaking his head.

Its dusk as we arrive back at the Yellowstone. Beast is back in the stable, happily munching carrots that Tate is feeding him. "How was your trip to town Aunt (Y/n)?" Tate asks, giggling as Beast nibbles his palm. "Well lil buck, I gotcha somethin.". I pull out a pair of brand new leather gloves, embroidered with his initials. "Since I know you lost yours in the crik last week. Look, T.D. Now dont go losin em now, those cost me a pretty penny." He hugs me tight. "Thank you, I promise I won't lose them. I love you.". I'm takin aback but chuckle. "I love you too little buck". He runs off shouting for his dad, who turns the corner and they collide. "Woah hey, where's the fire son?" He proudly shoves the yellow gloves in his dad's face. "Look what Aunt (Y/n) got me! And they're emboideld!" "I think you mean embroidered son. Those are awesome." Kayce looks at me, a big smile one his face. Happy that at least one sibling of his loves his soon they should. "Thank you (n/n)" he mouths I tip my cowboy hat to him. "I'ma go shower 'fore we leave Kace." He just nods and leads Tate to the lodge.

The cold water hits my back, almost done finishing my shower. Being a hand on a ranch makes you sweat and heat up no matter how cold Montana can get. "(Y/n) you in here?". I hear a voice call out. Poking my head out, I see Rip standing in front of the sinks. "You almost done?" He huffs out, visibly annoyed. I ignore him and turn the water off. I open the curtain, letting him see me naked. The water droplets rolling down my body. Rip just clicks his tongue then leaves as I'm wrapping my towel around me.

Kayce is driving, Rip is in the passenger seat, and I'm in the back. Whispering to the songs on the radio. "Can you shut the fuck up?" Rip snaps at me unexpectedly. "Excuse me? No offense Mr. Wheeler, but if you're so god damn annoyed by me, why did YOU hire me? You need to pull that wild hair out your ass and talk to me like a god damn adult and not just be a dick to me. Cause I sure as hell dont know what I've done to piss you off." He just scoffs and looks out the window the rest of the trip. Kayce shoots me a bewildered look through the rearview mirror, I shrug in return. The air and the people in the truck are tense the rest of the way. And even after we get back to the ranch.

A few days have passed, Lloyd keeps trying to get me to talk to Rip. Apparently since my "blow up", he's been choppin at his bit and gettin on everyone's ass for little things. "And I mean shit, he looked damn near ready to punch Jimmy after he dropped the bottle of wound dust.". Ryan just looks at me. "What did you say?". Teeter repeats it all back to him slowly and sarcastically. "Nobody hear can understand yall. You're southerners, we're not." Ryan replies emphatically. "She's saying that I've been a dick to everyone and I'm sorry" Rip says from the doorway, startling us who had out backs to him. "Can I speak to (Y/n) alone?" People started to get out of their chairs, grumbling. Instead I stood up and headed out the front door of the bunkhouse. Rip catches up with me quickly, damn his long legs. "C'mon. We're going to my room to speak.".

"Sit. Explain." I tell him and point to the bed. I start undressing and changing into sleep clothes. "First of all, I'm sorry." He trails off, but I dont want him to have time to think of an excuse. "Sorry about?". I egg on. "I'm sorry for being a massive jerk. I saw something I shouldn't have and its been bothering me.". I sit next to him, big baggy shirt and short shorts. "Saw somethin you shouldn't've? Rip, you're one guy I know that's seen everythin. To say you've seen somethin you shouldn't've scares me I'm gonna be honest.". He just chuckles, he takes his cowboy hat and jacket off, setting them on an adjacent rocking chair. He sits facing me. "Look. What I'm about to tell you is serious, and I hope you don't look at me differently. It was an accident, I promise." "Just spit it out Rip, you're legit scarin me right now.". I laugh nervously. "2 weeks ago I was coming up the stairs, it was late but John needed to talk to Kayce and I. Well...as I'm passing your room, I decided to check up on you. See if you were doin alright. And well what I saw was...you...naked, with a vibrator and well...you- you uh..were saying my name. A lot-" "okay! I get it." I interrupted. A couple beats of silence passed. I finally mustered up the courage to ask him what I've been wanting to since I watched him leave my doorway two weeks ago. "I know. I saw you leave. I was hoping you didnt see anything. Kinda...ruined my orgasm" I huffed out awkwardly but he just laughed. "Did you like what you saw?" I asked, hiding my stupidly red face. I felt his hand grasp my chin lightly. "Look at me darlin'. You are the most beautiful creature on this god forsaken earth I have ever seen. Clothes on or not." His smile spread ear to ear. It was beautiful. Watching this man who's life hasn't spared mercy to was like watching the sunset from the biggest mountain on the ranch. Breathtaking. We leaned in for a kiss but someone clearing their throat stopped us. "Uuuugh, WHAT?-- Oh. Hi dad." I get up to go talk to him. "Hey baby girl, how'd the auction go today?" "It was good, uhm. We're talking about something important, can what you have to talk about wait till tomorrow?" I ask, hoping he'd say yes it could wait and take my time and run away into the sunset with the man I've loved since I first set eyes on him. "I've gotta talk to Rip, honey. But I'll return him as soon as we're done." Dad smiles at me but eyes say that he's sorry. "Okay, that's alright.". Rip kisses my head as he walks past me. "I'll be back for my things darlin, don't you worry.".

[mysticmunson]

the interview

eddie munson x unnamed female reader

description: after joining the hawkins high newspaper, your first task is to interview the leader of the infamous Hellfire group, eddie munson, but maybe you bit off more than you could chew.

rating: R (smut, minors shoo)

word count: 2.7k

Being the newest intern at Hawkins High School newspaper  meant you got a lot of boring stories, but this was just an extracurricular for you, needing a club on your transcript before graduation. As the year began, a piece was pitched to write about different clubs within the school. You expected to write about the fashion club, the chess club, or even the math club. But your assignment would take you to Eddie Munson, leader of Hellfire. 

While this wasn’t ideal, you had grown up beside Eddie, seeing him go from awkward middle schooler to DnD master, and you were one of the only people in town who didn’t see him as a freak. While you never voiced it publicly, never finding a reason to, your association with Nancy Wheeler and her brother Mike, was enough to get you behind the dark doors. Jotting down his address, you made your way to the trailer on the edge of town with a notepad and pen in hand. 

Eddie knew you were coming, Mike informing him that the newspaper had finally shown interest, making sure to spray some Febreeze so you wouldn’t get secondhand high. He smoked a cigarette outside, staring at the trees before his eyes met yours, giving him a small wave. Brief hello’s were murmured as he swayed on his heels, taking the last hit before stomping it out. He opened up the door for you, enjoying your perfume that smelled of vanilla. He plopped on his couch kicking his feet on the coffee table as you stood awkwardly. Usually when sent on these leads, you didn’t feel nervous, you knew you had a job to do and once you got the story, you sent it in. But something about Eddie set you on edge in an addictive way. 

“Uh you can sit down unless you think the chair is gross.” He smirked, making you laugh as you sat. “Sorry I zoned out.” You peeped, folding the filled paper behind itself, starting a fresh sheet and labeling it, Eddie Munson, Hellfire Exclusive. He watched your hands, a bit protective of not only his group, but the boys inside of it. When the whole school thinks you're freaks, you gotta stick together. 

“Exclusive? I like the sound of that.” He stated, making you blush for seemingly no reason at all, but he noticed the way you were slowly getting nervous. While he originally thought you were scared to be alone with the dark and mysterious Eddie, he remembered how Mike said you were excited to know more, always wanting to find something new to learn. Mike also said you were a bit of a secret nerd. He wanted to test the waters of your sea, finding out if the ripples were for waves or rip currents. 

“Before I start asking you questions about the club, I have a favor to ask,” This made his eyebrows raise, “Can you just give me the rundown on Dungeons and Dragons? Cause the way Mike and the boys always mentioned it, I just can’t believe it would be satanic.” He relaxed, a smile creeping upon his face as he laughed, clapping his hands once. He spent the next 30 minutes telling you the rules and regulations of his group, the history of Hellfire. You could tell he was genuinely proud of his creation, making you more excited to ask the questions burning in your mind. Except, the questions weren’t related to DnD. 

As intrigued as you were, your eyes fell to examine him, the way his hair flounced and eyes sparkled as he spoke about something he loved. The way his fingers fiddled on his black pants, snug fitting and his boots creaking as he set them down. He could see you trying to focus, finding it amusing how little your face gif the intrigue of not only the game, but of him. It wasn’t everyday girls were knocking on his door, asking him questions about himself. 

“Well enough about me, how about you?” He said, snapping you from your trance, stuttering as you smoothed out your Toto band tee. “Uh, haha, I don’t know. What do you want to know?” Your coy response made him more illured, leaning in slightly to show his interest, but not saying a word. 

“Uh I’ve been in Hawkins all my life, I’m childhood friends with Nancy and their family, which Mike probably mentioned. I entered the newspaper to get an extra club on my transcript, but I really enjoy it now.” You sighed the ending, smiling as you fiddled with the corner of your notepad. 

“You also enjoy eye-fucking me” His abrupt words caused you to cough on your own spit, stammering as he stood and sauntered over. “Don’t be shy, princess, your face is very easy to read.” He smirked, cupping your face in his hand, making an involuntary whimper escape before you had a chance to clamp your own hand over it. You stood, face close to his, “I should probably get going, I need to head home, we’ll finish the interview during 5th period-“ 

“Yeah we can finish the interview then, but what are we gonna do now?” Invading your space where you could feel his breath on your face, you hoped that this wasn’t a sick joke as he pressed his lips against yours. Finding your rhythm was easy, but if there’s one thing Eddie wasn’t, it was just that. His lips pulled away from yours, spit keeping you two connected as he stared. He chuckled at your needy eyes, “I’m gentleman enough to offer my bed and not my grandma's coffee table.” Helping to break the ice a bit, leading you to his musty room, smelling of weed and cologne. But the smell was hypnotizing, reminding you that you just made out with the guy you admired from afar for years. Your thoughts were cut short when he spun you to lay on his bed, “Let’s keep the interview going, I have a lot of questions for you, pretty girl.” He taunted, shoving your panties down in one swift motion, pushing up your black skirt to reveal your needy center. He sucked in a sharp breath, his act dissipating for a brief moment as his cock swelled more. 

“Let’s start with something easy,” His hands sliding through your wet folds before finding your clit, you gasped and grabbed onto the pillow beneath your head. He spread your legs and your instincts caused you to cover yourself with your hands. Eddie glanced at you, slightly worried before your hands removed themself, “What made you this wet?” 

“Y-You did, Eddie.” You gulped, as his ring-clad fingers began to stimulate your small bundle of nerves, making you moan. His hands were used to playing guitars, skillful and finding purpose, which caused you to also find yourself growing closer to finishing. “Awe, you’re already so close, baby.” He teased, smacking his hand against your pussy while you gasped. You grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head before he returned the favor to you, finding you braless underneath the thin tee. He wasted no time in connecting his mouth to your neck, beelining to your breasts and sucking them. A moan seeped through your lips, knowing how needy you sounded, but couldn’t bear to care, knowing his cock was just a piece of fabric away. 

His motions stopped, a whine leaving you as he hushed you, pulling his jeans down to reveal his bare length. “Guess we both forgot underwear today.” You smiled as he laughed, running a hand through his hair, pulling your hips closer to his by sending you up. You had never felt this vulnerable, yet so empowered. He flipped you face down, reaching to his night stand to grab a foil packet, “You’re so obedient.”

“Only for you.” You whispered and turned your head, his eyes appearing darker as he finished sliding on the plastic. “How long have you been thinking of fucking me?” He asked, sliding his head through your folds as you attempted to push back onto him, only receiving a smack to your ass. “I’ve wanted it for months.” You cried as his tip entered your cunt, almost sighing from the relief it granted you. His knees were planted on the mattress, leaning down to press his chest to your back. “What about John?”

John, your boyfriend of one year that dumped you after cheating on you last month. You didn’t mention to anyone, but close friends, that his adultery had been the reason for your split. You wished you were the one who ceased the relationship, but it wasn’t, you knew he had been sleeping with other girls a few days before he broke up with you from a girl a year younger named Gale. John never fucked you, only kissing you when socially appropriate, and the first few make out sessions when you first pinned. You thought that maybe he was saving himself for marriage, not prodding at a sensitive subject for both of you, but he had been fucking girls six months in. As you laid in your room crying months later, you thought about the way you never imagined John fucking you senseless. You wanted the idea of it, to have a boyfriend who doted on you and kept you suffice. You had known Eddie through others, but when you went to Nancy’s one evening and saw Eddie outside with the boys, your mind fixated. 

“No.” You whispered as his thrusts got deeper, finding your body adjusting to his long and thick cock fast, only embarking on mild discomfort as he quickened. “He never fucked me. He was fucking other girls.” You gasped, surprised you said that as he hit your g-spot. Yanking your hair to bring his mouth to the shell do your ear, “He must be a fucking moron to let this pussy go untouched.” Eddie gritted out, finding it hard to control himself engulfed in your slickness. “Fuck, you’re so needy princess.” He panted as you pushed yourself to his hips, but he pulled away suddenly, laying down and pulling you onto his lap.

“Show me how much you want it.” He said, helping you guide yourself onto his cock, watching you shiver as you sank down, eyes clenching in pleasure. You began bouncing as Eddie grabbed your hips, noticing your struggle, “There you go, sweet girl, feels good, doesn’t it? Just needed to be fucked good.” He cooed, knowing the effect he had as you clenched around him, tears streaming down your cheek. He grabbed your arms and pulled you to his chest, kissing you deeply, invading your mouth with passion. His hands moved to your waist, fucking up into you as you cried out. 

“Shh, it’s okay baby, let it out.” You felt embarrassed at how quickly he made you submissive, crying into his neck as he fucked you relentlessly. You had never felt so good, “Eddie, I’m gonna come.” You choked out, bracing yourself for the crash, but his movements slowed, causing you to look at his eyes. “Should we finish that interview now? You said you needed to go home, right?” He smirked, watching your face fall as you pushed him further into your needy cunt, “No, no, please Eddie.” Your breaths speeding up as he shrugged, somehow managing to keep his composure at the girl falling apart on top of him. 

“Please Eddie, I need you so bad, please.” You stammered as he sat up, giving you more leverage to ride him again, going faster than before with hands attaching to his neck. You stared at his tattooed collarbones as more tears streamed down your face, his thumb catching them and hushing you. “You need it so bad, don't you princess? Need the big scary man to fuck you, to satisfy you?” 

Eddie knew what to say. He knew how desperate you were, to finally be with him and feel good. Though you told him very little of your past relationship, the way you fell apart within minutes showed you hadn’t been destroyed in a way he knew he could do to you. He felt proud, but protective, already knowing he was likely the only man to see you fall apart like this. Crying from how good his cock felt inside you, how you would put your reputation within the newspaper team on the line, just to be with him now. 

“You’re not scary.” You whispered, looking into his eyes as they visibly softened, kissing you much slower than previously as he laid you beneath him. His thrusts were passionate, not haste and short, but long and meaningful. He felt himself nearing his end as you did, rubbing your clit to help you finish. A mantra left your mouth of his name and pleas, finally succumbing to your needs as you came around him. Your eyes fluttered shut as he came shortly after, spilling into the condom and relaxing within you. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, the intensity still coming in waves as he caught his breath. He gave you a moment to collect yourself before pressing his lips gently to your eyelids, making them open. 

“Hi princess.” He whispered, tucking your tousled hair behind your ear, staring at your hazy eyes. You smiled, returning the favor to his curly locks, “Hi.” The words breathlessly leaving your lips, “I don’t think we should do the interview at your house next time.”  He left out a boisterous laugh, tucking his face in your neck to kiss the blossoming hickey. “You don’t want this to happen again?” He said, a slight worry laced within his words, fearing you’d chosen to forget this ever happened, but his worries ceased when you spoke again. 

“You can’t get rid of me now, Munson, especially since I never got to ask any questions.”

---------

hi there, this is my first eddie fic, but i already have another in the works, please feel free to message me suggestions or feedback. much love.

[fanficfanatic000]

(Handmade for me) E.M

Eddie Munson x best friend plus sized friends to lovers

reader 18+ don't read if a minor

Trigger warning ( read if you dare )

(Summary)is a plus sized young adult female Who lived in Hawkins her whole life was a outcast in school only has three friends Robin. Steve and eddie. But your best friend is eddie munson. Just your friend right???...You work at a bar as a bartender usually serving drinks from rugged bikers to just turned twenty one first drinkers... until that night.... when it all when wrong......)

•

You just stepped out of the shower and walked to your room to grab some clothes to change into. "so what should we do tonight y/n we could go get some snacks im kinda feeling snackyyy" you walked toward your drawer in your little white towel searching for your favorite loose t-shirt. Ripped jeans and bra and underwear.The dorky metal head laying on your bed throwing his arms in the air staring at the ceiling. "Well we could walk to the store after i get dressed since your snackyyyyyy" you giggle and his eyes shift towards you in that white towel your skin silky and your hip stretch marks slightly visible on your lower thigh then he quickly averted his gaze. Focusing on the ceiling instead of your curves. You pulled the clothing items out of your drawers and walk to your bathroom and got dressed. half dried your hair with a towel "ya ready edds?" He got up quickly. "Yepp! Letz gooo!"• He opened the front door for you and you started your short walk to the small store. Eddie walking next to you bumps into you slightly once and a while due to the small sidewalk him on the outer rim of the sidewalk remembering what he said the first time you two walked together -"look i would rather be hit by a truck then see you get hit because if you got hit id drop dead" his hand clenched his chest if he were dieing in a playfulness- "and we have arrived you first m-lady " he held the door his eyebrow crooked with his cute dimple smile the evening light making his eyes sparkle you walk through and he followed behind you. "So what type of snackys were you thinkin? Eddie" he hums thinking about what he wanted "slurpys and spicy chips! What do you think sweetheart?" You nodded yes "sounds good." Eddie and you make way to the slurpy machine waiting for Nancy wheeler and her little sister Holly to fill theirs. Eddie rocked on his heels waiting and looking at you he sticks his tongue out and then you do too. You and eddie were always dorks but dorks together ever since middle school. Nancy and Holly moved walking towards the counter to pay. Eddie hands you a large slurpys cup and you filled it with cherry and cola. And he filled his with the same and you stood there putting the lid on tightly when a hand hit the fat of your ass And a rough smooth voice says "well well well y/n Mickelson ya still look smoking!"You turn gritting your teeth "billy fuck head is that you?" Billy Hargrove this man child always made you uncomfortable in high school and when he sees you obviously he always asked you out then when you declined he'd call you a slut or bitch. eddie turns "Hargrove leave her the fuck alone man!." He says fist clenched stepping between you and Billy "maybe next time y/n" he flashed his stupid cocky grin as he threw cash on the counter and went out the door with his pack of cigarettes. "What an asshole.... thank God you're here edds or he wouldn't have left me alone that fast..." he puts the lid on his slurpy grabs the chips and two straws "yeah im glad i was here. Stupid asshole"You walk up to the counter to pay "doing anything fun tonight you two?" Joyce byers the mother figure of the town she watched you and eddie grow up since you two came there quite frequently and eddie has dnd campaigns that she drops will off at. "Mm we havent thought that far ahead yet.. eddie was just soo snackyyy. And here we are" you smile. And eddie laughs slightly "cmon i know you wanted some snacks also y/n " you giggle sliding the money towards Joyce "well dont have tooo much fun you two " she smiles and handed you the receipt.

Part two is out soon or now

just look under hash tag > handmade for me em<

[retrobutterflies]

Déjà Vu Blues | s.h.

Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Summary: Past feelings about one of the worst nights of Steve's life has him reeling from the eerily similar scenario he finds himself in. And he really can't stomach a repeat especially when you hold his delicate heart in your hands.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, very tame and they are cry babies :)

A/N: I've been a leech to fanfics for far too long. Consider this my penance and my contribution. If there are any typos no there aren't.

This scenario was uncomfortably familiar. From the eerily similar playlist down to the repugnant bowl of punch whose dark red color stirred up a pit of anxiety in Steve's stomach. The cold pale ale in his hand that he miraculously found in the dredges of a cooler was becoming more of a toy than a beverage. The metal crinkled and bent every time his fingers clenched and by the time he realized he was nearly crushing it he set it down on the counter harshly, droplets littering the marble countertop.

His eyes roamed the living room, bouncing from face to face, head to head, looking for a glimpse of you. You had disappeared only twenty minutes ago with your friends to play beer pong or smoke or touch the grass or–Whatever. You went to do something without him and he was anxious. He knew he was being irrational. You had other friends. You were allowed to enjoy a party. You were allowed to have fun, something he, apparently, wasn't sure how to have anymore.

Maybe it was losing everyone he had called a friend for most of his teenage years. Maybe it was Nancy Wheeler ripping his heart out and stomping on it at its most vulnerable state. Or maybe it was the lasting effects of inter-dimensional trauma making him believe everyone he loved was going to die. He knew it was a vicious combination of the three. And, probably, the overarching theme of his unrequited, pathetic crush on his best friend.

He was the biggest fucking cliché imaginable. And here he was, eyeing the birthday decorations that overwhelmed Tina's (or was this Tasha's?) house, seeing everyone laughing and dancing and singing and he was moping in the corner glancing at the back door every other second in the hopes that you would stroll in and make his irrational, annoying anxiety go away.

Fuck.

He picked up his pale ale again, grimacing at it before touching the metal to his lips and tipping it back. The coolness was welcomed but he knew the alcohol wasn't going to help his mental state. In fact, it was probably going to make everything worse. But he pushed the warning bells to the back of his mind, squinted his eyes tight, and emptied the can moments later. 

"Hell yeah, Harrington! Shotgun!" Some kid dressed in a toga Steve had never even seen before slapped him hard on the back before puncturing his own beer can and slamming it back at an alarming rate. Steve gave him a wince before digging back into that same cooler for his second of many.

By the time you had finished your long conversation with your friends about some drama you had been an unwilling witness to, it was an hour since you had last seen Steve. Your friends scattered off one by one and you made your way back inside hoping to find him somewhere amongst the chaos.

You had felt guilty leaving him earlier but the insistent tug from your friends and the reassuring smile Steve had sent your way made you acquiesce. And you hoped he was feeling better. You could tell the whole ride to Tina's house that he was agitated. Half a year ago at this same house he was having his heart broken and his world shattered. That had been a nightmare. And it took you a while to navigate the aftermath and help piece Steve back together. And even then, even after he had concluded that him and Nancy were better off as friends, something else had happened a few months ago that had left him bloody and scarred. Something he refused to tell you about despite your countless efforts.

You knew it was something bad. Something bad enough to leave him a fractured version of himself. It scared you shitless when he showed up at your door, face black and blue with tears in his eyes. You had no idea what to do. It was the first time you had ever seen him so quiet. And even now, six months later, you still had no clue what had happened. But you let him be. You figured one day you would hear about it. One day when he was ready to share. 

But that didn't stop you from endlessly worrying about him. You glanced around the stifling living room. People were pressed so tightly together that you had to shove your way through just to pass. The music was loud and the lights were dim. You stumbled over a few empty cups and fallen decorations.

When you made it to the kitchen, you stared down at the pile of empty cans stacked up next to John McIntyre passed out on the floor. Punch was spilled on his white toga making him look like a homicide victim but his snores and trail of drool on the side of his mouth let you know that he was alive. 

Gross.

As you turned to leave a girl across the kitchen caught your eye.

"Hey, Y/N?" she called. "Are you looking for Steve?"

You weren't sure who she was or how she knew your name but you figured since everyone knew who Steve was you were sometimes lumped in with him.

"Yeah, have you seen him?" you replied. The pitying grimace on her face made you nervous.

"Yeah, him and John were going one for one on the pale ales. He wasn't looking too hot. I think he went to find the bathroom," she explained. You let out a sigh, the guilt from before returning tenfold. 

"Right. Great. Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. She returned it, a look of solidarity in her eyes as she turned to her own overly drunk friend who looked seconds away from hurling.

Pushing through more people lingering in the hallways and on the stairs, you finally made your way to the first floor bathroom. The door was shut and you could hear the sink running. You hesitated, hand raised before bringing your fist down to rapt your knuckles on the door.

"Hey, Steve? Is that you?" you called, hoping you weren't interrupting some random partygoer.

You didn't hear a response and went to knock again before the door whipped open. Steve stood there, his bloodshot eyes as red as the giant punch stain decorating his chest.

"Y/N/N? You're here? Hey that's crazy I was just thinking about you. 'M like psychic," he voice was slurred and by the way he was swaying slightly you feared he was well on his way to a gnarly hangover the next day. You slipped into the bathroom with a soft hand on his stomach to push him back and shut the door behind you.

"What have you done to yourself, Steve?" you chastised, eyebrows furrowing as you assessed his stained clothes. 

"Pfft," he huffed, turning away to stumble towards the sink that you realized was still running. "'M having fun. Like a normal teenager. Like Marcus who is the fastest beer shotgunner I have ever seen. You gotta see this guy. 'S like lightning." You furrowed your brows together as you stepped towards him, reaching for the hand towel he had abandoned in the sink that was now soaked from the running water. 

"Marcus?" you questioned. You shut the sink off, ringing out some of the water before turning towards Steve who was gripping the counter and staring at you from the mirror. You shifted him to face you so you could start dabbing the wet towel on his chest, attempting to dilute the dark red punch from his white shirt.

"Marcus Aurelius. Tell me you didn't skip History. The Roman Emperor? Dudes, like, mega famous," he explained, looking down at you with an incredulous look, though you could only imagine how many versions of you he was seeing with his glassy eyes. Your mind flashed to John and his toga covered in punch on the kitchen floor and let out a small laugh.

"Right. Marcus Aurelius. Did you guys take a dive in the punch bowl? Why are you covered in it?" you asked. 

"Gonna be honest. I don't remember. Actually, the last, like, twenty minutes are kaputz," he slurred. He swayed again and you caught his biceps in your hands. 

"Here, sit down before you fall and crack your skull open," you commanded, guiding him to sit on the closed toilet seat.

"Would not be the worst thing. I feel like every other minute I'm, like, bleeding," he commented, his brows furrowing. 

"Yeah, I know. You've given me high blood pressure," you joked although a small part of your heart pinched at the increasing scenarios in which Steve was wounded. Some of which you didn't even know the context.

"S'okay. I'm strong. Frequency makes the heart grow stronger . . . or something," he mumbled and you bit your lip to stop the silly smile spreading across your face.

"That is not how that saying goes." You moved away to rinse out the flannel, the red liquid swirling around the white sink.

"How would I know I'm not a scholar," he said. You peaked over at him to see him lean back and slump down, his eyes trailing up the far wall.

"I couldn't even get into community college," he huffed. You froze for a second, feeling the cold water rush over your hands as you stared down at the sink. The tug in your heart at the sudden insecurity seeping into his words made you feel helpless.

"You know," you started, squeezing out the excess water from the hand towel before walking back over to Steve. "College isn't for everyone. Some people's strength lies outside the world of academia."

He sighed, blinking heavily before his eyes met yours. His pupils were blown wide and rimmed red but the warm brown of his irises still twinkled under the incandescent lighting.

"My skills lie in ice cream scooping apparently. M'gonna be so good at dressing like a sailor and being depressed," he grumbled. You stepped forward and pressed the towel back onto his chest. He whined at the coldness, hands reaching up to wrap around your wrists but you held firm, knowing the shirt had a limited time frame to be saved.

"It's just a summer job, you drama queen. You're gonna figure out what you're supposed to do at some point. It's not a race," you explained. His hands stayed clutching your wrists, grip loosening until they were just a warm presence that made your cheeks heat up. His legs parted and he pulled you in further so you stood between them, staring down at his sitting figure.

"Yeah, sure, fine. But what about you, huh? You're gonna get into some super good college and leave me here to wither away," he pouted, eyes locked on yours. You averted your gaze to his stained shirt, knowing keeping eye contact would only disorient you.

"I'm not gonna leave you," you replied, voice soft but firm. 

Being a year below Steve gave you a nice buffer zone to figure out what you were going to do. The thought of going far away for school made you feel nauseous. Leaving your family, your friends, and Steve. You couldn't do it. Even before you realized this was something that was weighing on his mind too. You think if Steve had gotten into university that you would probably be setting your sights on that same school, pathetically enough.

"No, I know you're gonna have to. Everyone does at some point. I'm, like, a temporary tattoo on people's lives," he said. This made your eyes find his and the sadness emanating from them made you lose your breath for a minute.

"Steve," you were at a loss for words, you hands freezing as you stared at him.

"I get it. 'M hard to love. Only a matter of time before people out grow me," he continued. You felt your throat tighten at the harshness of his words. 

"I've been mentally preparing, you know, for when you gotta leave. And I know you're gonna but fuck that's gonna hurt. Gonna probably be the nail in the coffin on this bad boy," he grimaced, left hand going up to rest over his heart as he let out a humorless laugh. You squeezed the towel in your hands, eyes pricking with sudden moisture.

"Steve–" you choked out but he kept rambling, words cutting deeper and deeper, your throat tightening at each syllable.

"God, I'm–I'm gonna be lost without you, Y/N/N," he tugged your wrists down until your hands were in his lap. He took the towel from you, dropping it to the floor so he could hold your hands in his. His thumbs swirled softly on the top of your hands sending chills up your arms. You stood there breathless before him as he stared down at your conjoined hands.

"Maybe I could follow you, wherever you end up. I could be a good house plant or something. Or I could find a great ice cream shop nearby, scoop it up in a new place." His words had your heart rate increasing. You squeezed his hands before letting them go. His brows furrowed together at the loss of contact.

You placed your palms on his cheeks, tilting his face up so his red rimmed eyes that were now growing glassy met yours. Your thumbs rubbed softly on his rosy cheeks, eyes flickering between his as you cut through the dizzying thoughts running through your head.

"Why do you think I'm going to leave you?" You felt crazy asking this. There wasn't even a possibility that you could leave him. He was a mandatory fixture in your life and whatever you did decide to do you knew you were forcing him to be a part of it.

"Aren't you?" he gave you a sad smile as if he had already seen his piteous future in a crystal ball.

"Steve, do you not understand how permanent of a person you are in my life? I was supposed to follow you. Now I'm aggravated that you're making me decide where we end up. You know I'm bad with these kinds of decisions," you hoped your joking tone helped him digest the seriousness of your words.

"We?" He blinked up at you with confusion. You moved a hand to brush away the wisps of hair that fell into his forehead. He leaned in almost unconsciously to your touch and your heart squeezed at the sight of his face relaxing.

"Duh. Did you think I was going to let you leave me? You're, like, singlehandedly the most important person in my life." His eyes welled up more and for a split second you worried you had said the wrong thing.

"Please tell me you're not just saying this to make me feel better," he mumbled, his voice taking on a vulnerable tone. 

"I'm not a therapist or a social worker. In fact, I'm extremely selfish and you are not allowed to go anywhere without me." 

His hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you in until you were pressed together, his face hiding above the swell of your chest. You felt his tears bleeding into your shirt but you didn't care, arms wrapping around his head as he squeezed you even tighter.

"Please don't cry, Stevie," you nearly whispered, your own eyes swelling with moisture until you could feel stray tears race down your cheeks.

"You can't just say the sweetest things in the world and not expect me to cry. That's inhumane," he croaked into your shirt, fingers digging into your sides.

"Sweet?" you let out a watery laugh, hand combing through his hair hoping to bring him some comfort, "I basically threatened you."

"Right. Threatened me with the best possible future imaginable," he sniffled. 

You were quiet for a moment, clutching each other with equal desperation. You shut your eyes, trying to fight back the unending stream of fresh tears.

"Steve, you're–" you sniffled, grip tightening on him, "You're the easiest person to love. You making loving you like second nature. I can't even . . . I can't even remember a time where I didn't love you."

Your confession hung heavy in the air. He was quiet, face hidden but you could feel the stutter in his breath. Your throat was painfully tight with emotion and you knew your mascara was probably creating racing stripes down your face. But you couldn't stop the sudden overwhelming urge to reassure him of your love for him.

"Y/N," he said finally, his voice low and soft. You felt his hand move to the small of your back, thumb rubbing back and forth giving you goosebumps. "Please don't say that when you don't mean it."

A rush of hot anger shot through you. You pulled back to glare down at him, vision blurry through your tears.

"Who says I don't mean it," you cut back, voice wavering and throat raw.

His eyes met yours and his face looked pained. His cheeks were wet and they glistened under the light. His hands went to rest on your rib cage, grip tight so you couldn't pull back any further.

"You don't mean it the way I mean it," he said back, resolution and sadness soaking his tone.

"I love you," you said all at once. He winced, head shaking, tears pooling, grip tightening.

"Y/N, please–" You cut him off.

"I love you," you said again, hands on his shoulders and eyes glaring down into his.

"Stop–"

"No, Steve. I love you." His eyes rounded and his lips pouted as if he was going to cry more. "I love you. I love you. I love you," you repeated.

"I love you so much sometimes my heart hurts. Sometimes I feel physical pain. And even if I wanted to stop loving you I couldn't. It's impossible," your breath got caught in your throat as a small whimper escaped with a new rush of tears. You wanted so desperately for him to understand the depth of your feelings. Even if he rejected you, you needed him to know.

This time he did break. Whatever morsel of self composure he had left snapped and he was pulling you back to cry openly into your shaking form. You stood there for a while, crying together until you were both visibly drained. Minutes of silence went by until finally you were pulling away.

Steve had never been speechless at any point in his life. He always found something to comment on, some sly remark to be made. But now, looking up at your watery eyes and hearing you repeat tenfold the three words he was starved to hear from anyone let alone you, the one girl he thought was atmospherically out of reach, he was at a loss for words.

"I love you," you repeated again and the phrase was quickly becoming an obligatory sentence to his ears. 

He felt his chin wobble again, threatening another round of hot tears but he fought them back and through the choking tightness of his throat he responded, "Not as much as I love you."

He felt dizzy at the laugh you let out. It was strangled and watery but it was the prettiest thing he thinks he had ever heard. Your eyes glittered like jewels as you peered down at him, a wavering smile on your lips. And he realized that this was decidedly not like the last party he was at. This was, in fact, the best party he the pleasure of attending and he sent a thank you to Tina or Tasha or whoever's fucking birthday it was as he pulled you in closer and closer until he could press his lips to the curve of your collar bone.

Link to my masterlist :)

[everythingimagines]

The untouchable girl // Eddie Munson

Summary: Could Dustin possibly help Eddie with his hopeless crush?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female reader

Warnings: swearing?

A/N: back again obsessed over Eddie Munson, disclaimer I'm still not a native English speaker so please be nice about my grammar. I also hate to re-read what I wrote so if something is not understandable sorry.

Y/N Y/L/N wasn't an ordinary student at Hawkins High. She in fact created one of the biggest dramas the school has ever seen while being the daughter of the principal.

In her freshman year, Y/N became a cheerleader and seemed to have a perfect life. She was beautiful, smart, popular and of course like almost every cheerleader she had a basketball player boyfriend.

Her makeup and outfit were always perfect and the way she walked in the halls, it was like a breath of fresh air. Until that one day at the end of May.

After the Hawkins Tigers had another massive win in the season of course they went to celebrate. Y/N had to miss out on the party, her mother insisted that she had to be home for a big family dinner because of some relatives she didn't even remember. She had been taught to be a good girl and had no intention to go against her mother for a stupid party. Maybe she should have.

The next day in school was a living hell, everyone was talking about how her boyfriend fucked her best friend at the party and even though they both tried to deny it to her, the hickies on their necks weren't lying. What happened next was something that shook the entire school. Y/N slapped both of them and tried to rip out Tiffany's hair. She got suspended, kicked out of the cheerleader team and we don't even want to get started on how mad her mother was.

And that was when Y/N decided that she didn't want to be the picture-perfect golden kid anymore. Her grades did not drop, but her style changed completely. Not just in clothing and makeup. She was still kind (mostly), but cared less about people's opinions and wasn't scared to stand up for herself or someone she loved.

That's how she somehow became friends with the Hellfire Club. Some dumbass basketball players were bothering Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson after school, all Y/N knew was that they were freshmen and complete nerds. Which is not a good combo.

"Look man why can't you just leave us alone, we literally did nothing to you." - begged Dustin.

"Yeah, Chris, why can't you just leave them alone?" - joined in Y/N.

"Oh look, who it is. The one and only Y/N Y/L/N, cheerleader to a little noisy bitch." - laughed Chris until Y/N went and punched him right in the face. But more importantly right in front of Eddie Munson.

"Woah, Woah, Woah what is going on here Henderson?"

"Chris was bullying us and Y/N hit him."

"Y/N? The principal's daughter saved your asses?"

"Is that so unbelievable Munson?" - Y/N joined their conversation.

"You standing up against another basketball dickhead? No, but judging by your shoes your high heels weren't made for fighting."

"Well, you shouldn't judge a girl by her shoes, Munson. But from as much as I know about you, you probably don't have much experience with any girl." Y/N walked past him, shoulders touching.

As Y/N was rolling her eyes, Eddie felt himself falling for her. He had a crush on her since the first time he saw her but this new Y/N is even better.

"Dude, you have a weird look on your face."

"Shut up, Henderson."

Eddie in fact did not had much sleep that night. He was way too focused on how could he ask Y/N out when ever since Andrew broke her heart no one could ever get close to her. Anyone who asked her out had been brutally rejected. Eddie did not wanted to go through that so he created his "evil plan". From what she did, Eddie suspected that maybe she has some sympathy towards Henderson and Wheeler which is good because he's friends with them. The plan was easy, Henderson somehow needs to befriend her, and then maybe if Dustin talks enough on his behalf Y/N would slowly start to like him and will say yes if he asks her out. After all, she has to have a heart somewhere under that wall she created.

"Eddie, with all respect you have no chance with her and this plan will never work."

"Henderson, with zero respect, I don't give a shit please just try it."

"Alright, I will because we're friends but don't have high hopes."

At lunch break after a lot of teasing from Eddie, Dustin approached Y/N.

"Heeey, Y/N!"

"Hi, um..."

"Oh right, my name is Dustin Henderson. You can call me Dustin. I-I didn't have the chance to thank you for saving us from Chris."

"It's honestly nothing that you need to thank for Dustin. I don't like seniors bugging freshmen it's pretty annoying and unfair."

"Yes, but still, you were the only one who stopped."

"People can be cruel when it's not their problem. Do you want to sit down?" Y/N was alone at her table at the moment, her best friend Jessica was absent for the day. After a quick glance at Eddie - who looked pretty nervous - Dustin sat down to eat with her.

"Sooo Dustin... Why exactly did Munson send you here?" - asked Y/N while casually looking down at her food while Dustin choked on his own.

"Wha-what are you talking about?"

"Oh please, when I was 6 I was at the beach with my older sister and her friends, that was the first time we were alone without parents and she immediately made me ask a boy out for her. Cut the bullshit Dustin, I like you don't make me mad."

"Agh Y/N, he's gonna kill me, I promise I told him it was bullshit and it won't work. He has a crush on you but he has no idea how to ask you out because he's afraid that you will reject him."

"Ohohoho so the big Eddie Munson is afraid of me rejecting him?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Well, this should be fun" - chuckled Y/N as she stood up and started walking towards the Hellfire Club's table while Dustin was muttering 'shit, shit, shit" in the background.

"Munson can we talk in private?" - Eddie was shocked to say at least when Y/N popped that question.

"You know I really don't appreciate you sending that child to make me soft so maybe I'll date you" - Eddie acted dumb for some time but had to give in.

"Okay, I'll admit it wasn't my brightest idea but I was up all night thinking about how I could get close to you without you pushing me away."

"You did what? Eddie Munson the guy who gives the least fuck about anything in the world was up all night thinking how could he ask me out?"

"Well, get ready Y/L/N because I'm about to spill a lot of my secrets. Do you remember when you said I have no experience with girls? You were right, but do you want to know the reason why? The reason is that I had feelings for you since the first time you walked into this goddamn school, I kinda wished that you will be close to me somehow even though I knew that I couldn't have you. You had to go and date that dickhead because that's what cheerleaders do, date basketball players. It was breaking my heart when he cheated on you, I wanted to make him regret what he did to you but we haven't even spoken a word Y/N. I thought that it will go away, it's just a stupid crush but it's been three fucking years and you just became more and more wonderful. I try to act like a tough guy but on the inside, I'm really not. After all this shit I just spit out I'm really embarrassed so please either tell me how I can win you over or reject me nicely so I can try to move on with my life."

It was probably the first time Y/N was speechless ever since the cheating scandal, it was also the first time when her heart fluttered again with love for a boy. Not trusting herself with words this time, Y/N decided to embrace Eddie in a massive hug. He needed a few seconds until he realized what was going on but then hugged her back just as strongly. After a while, Eddie felt a drop of tear on his neck coming from Y/N.

"Hey, are you alright?" - he asked softly.

"Please don't give up on me." - Y/N answered still sniffling into his neck.

"I would never princess."

That was the start of the beautiful relationship between Y/N Y/L/N and Eddie Munson. From that day, Eddie picked Y/N up every single morning, brought her flowers every Monday (from God knows where), and did everything in his powers to win her over even if we were talking about bringing her chocolate when she was on her period or just simply being her island when everything went wrong. Eventually, with her help, he finally graduated in 1986 and left the good old Hawkins behind to start their new life. Let's just say, Eddie did not regret waiting three whole years to be with her. The sight of her cooking breakfast in his Hellfire Club shirt while their daughter sat on her waist made every single moment worth it.

[fanficforlife]

Chapter Four

The early morning sun warmed your face while you sat on the porch enjoying a leisurely cup of coffee. You had gotten all of your work done and had the whole weekend off. No plans except relaxing with a book, going for a walk in the woods behind the house and finally calling your adopted grandparents. You had been so busy you only had time to text back and forth. Needing to stay safe and secretive meant not being able to tell them about where you were in case Nick found their cell phone. 

"Good morning, Violet." Lee grinned as he walked up the steps, carrying his mug from his house. 

"Good morning."

"Do you mind?"

"No, sit."

He sunk onto the empty chair next to yours. "Everything's still going good? Here and back there?"

"Yeah. Things here are going great. I was texting with my neighbors yesterday and they said Nick told them I hadn't been around the past couple of months because I had cancer and needed to go away for treatments."

"He doesn't want people to know you left him."

You nodded and looked out over the expansive yard. "Appearance is everything to their family. Can't have everyone knowing his fiancé ran away a week before their wedding."

"Well, he can let everyone think you're sick. Meanwhile, you will be here living your best life." You giggled as Rip walked around the corner. "Especially when my lovesick little brother musters up enough courage to finally ask you out." Pink stained your cheeks causing him to grin before focusing on the rugged cowboy who just walked up. "Morning, Rip."

"Morning. Morning, Violet."

"Good morning. The coffee pot inside is full and there are muffins on the counter that Tate and I made yesterday."

A crooked smile formed on his face. "I might just take you up on that."

You smiled back as the door next to Lee opened and Kayce and John walked out.  "Good morning, Violet. It doesn't look like you are having much luck reading with these two hanging around." John chuckled, glancing down at the closed book on your lap that you had yet to start. 

"Good morning. I have all day so I'm not worried." 

"Well, we have some things to discuss. We'll be in my office." He informed before going back inside with Rip and Lee, leaving just you and Kayce. 

Something feels off. Your brow furrowed. "Is everything okay? Everyone seems a little tense this morning."

"There's just an issue with some of our cattle and we have to figure out how to handle it. Everything's gonna be okay though."

"Good. Well, not good that there's a problem but good that it will all work out in the end." 

A warm smile pulled at his lips at your ramble. "I know you don't have to work today and I feel like shit for asking but would you be able to watch Tate. I don't know how long this is going to take."

"Of course, I will. I was actually thinking of going for a walk behind the house so he can make sure I don't get lost." 

He chuckled. "He would love to take you out there. My brothers and I built a treehouse when we were kids on top of a hill that overlooks a valley."

"Maybe I'll pack us a picnic." You smiled as you stood up. 

"He would love that. So would I."

"Next time you can come too."

"I'm gonna hold you to that." His perfect, crooked smile donned his face and you couldn't help but smile back. "I should go. Tate's still upstairs asleep. Gator's busy in the kitchen and said he would let Tate know you're out here."

"Okay."

"Thank you. I owe you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"Well, if you insist, I like chocolate." You teased. 

He smirked but before he could say anything Lee stuck his head out the door. "You can talk to your girlfriend all you want after we get this figured out." Kayce's cheeks went red and Lee chuckled before placing his hands on Kayce's shoulders and guiding him inside. "See you later, Vi."

You giggled. After settling back in your chair, you sent your neighbour's a text letting them know you might not be able to call today because you were watching Tate. It was too early to call them or you would have so instead, you opened your book. 

*

Gator was busy pouring stew into a serving bowl while you and Tate put biscuits in a basket for dinner when they finally emerged from the office. 

"Grandpa, guess what me and Violet did today?!"

"Why don't you go sit at the table so you can tell your dad and uncles too?" 

"Good idea." He answered you before jumping down and running into the dining room. 

"Thanks for watching him." 

"How many times do I have to tell you and Kayce that you don't have to thank me." 

John smiled as Tate yelled for him. "I'm comin', grandson." He heeded the call and went to the dining room. 

"Dish up. I can carry these in there." Gator said, not waiting for a reply and taking both bowls. 

You put some in a bowl and grabbed a biscuit, carrying them onto the porch. 

*

"Hey," Kayce said after stepping outside an hour later wearing dark clothes, his cowboy hat nowhere in sight. 

"Hi."

He leaned against the railing in front of your chair. "Thanks for watching Tate today."

"Kayce."

"I know but babysitting isn't part of your job description, especially when everyone is home." His eyes went to his hands which were holding a black baseball cap. 

"Is everything okay? You don't have to answer, I know It's none of my business. I just-"

He smiled seeing the concern on your face. "I know, we're all okay."

The worry that had been building throughout the day lessened. You stood up and leaned against the railing next to him.

"Broken Rock has some of our cattle."

"The reservation?"

"Yeah, some of our property borders theirs, and our cows ended up on their land. They won't give 'em back."

"You're going to get them back?" You had a feeling you already knew the answer. When he confirmed it the worry started trickling back in. 

"Would you be able to watch Tate tonight? I don't know when we'll be back. He's not in the best mood cause I told him roasting marshmallows will have to wait until tomorrow. He's been looking forward to it since you guys went shopping and he picked out those different flavored chocolate bars to use for s'mores."

"Of course, I'll watch him." The trickle of fear turned into a full-blown rushing river when Lee came out of the house and handed Kayce a bulletproof vest. 

Lee gave your shoulder a squeeze when he saw the fear in your eyes. "Don't worry, Vi. I'll get him back in one piece so he can finally ask you out. I'll even babysit little man so he can take you somewhere nice." He chuckled when you both blushed. "Well, my work here is done." His eyes sparkled mischievously as gave you a quick peck on the cheek before heading for the barn. "Five minutes, lover boy."

The red hue on Kayce's cheeks darkened. "Sorry about him."

"It's okay." You said as you picked at the wood railing, your mind still stuck on the bulletproof vest. 

"Hey," his hand covered yours, drawing you back, "we're gonna be okay. It's just a precaution." The sound of a helicopter approaching made you both look out over the lawn and watched it land. 

"Ready son?" John asked as he rounded the corner. 

"Yeah," he put the vest on while John looked up at you from the bottom of the steps. 

"Thanks for watching him. He's inside picking out a movie for you two to watch."

You smiled at him before he turned and ran towards the helicopter. Your eyes went back to the man who was starting to mean more to you than you thought...or hoped, in some ways. 

"I'll be fine."

"I'm not worried about you." You lied. "From what I've heard you did great in the navy. Take care of the rest of them."

"I will." He smiled, squeezing your hand. 

"Kayce, let's go!" Lee called out from the driver's seat of a truck with a horse trailer hooked up to the back of it. 

"And, don't worry about us. I'm just gonna pump your kid full of sugar while we have a Jurassic Park marathon."

He chuckled. "I'll let you two sleep when we get back and you're both passed out on the couch."

You smiled up at him but worry tinged your eyes. "Be safe."

"Always." After giving your hand another squeeze, he jumped off the porch and ran to the truck. Lee blew you a kiss before they sped off. The helicopter followed. 

You watched the taillights disappear behind a hill before going inside. Tate held up the three Jurassic Park movies you had predicted he would pick. After gathering snacks, he cuddled up with you under a blanket. While the first movie played, your mind kept drifting to Kayce. Keep them safe. Please, keep them all safe. You prayed for the family who was quickly filling up your once-broken heart.

*****

A creak of the floorboards drew your attention away from the mountain view out the window. The suns first rays were filtering through the windows, illuminating the cause of the creak. "John?" You gently lifted Tate's head off your lap so you could stand up. John motioned towards the kitchen. "How did it go? Is everyone okay?" You asked after following him. 

"Not good. Are Kayce and Lee here?"

The color drained from your face. "N-no." Gator froze, the egg he was about to crack hovering over the pan.  

"Damn it. They don't have their phones on them. They probably couldn't get back to the truck so they're just riding back." He said, trying to convince himself in the process. "They're fine."

You gave him the best fake smile you could muster and nodded. 

"You don't need to make me anything, not hungry. If they aren't back in fifteen minutes, I'm gonna go look for them."

"Yes, sir. Violet?"

"I...I'm not hungry either."

Gator nodded as Tate came bounding into the room. "Grandpa!"

"Good morning, grandson." John hid his worry and grinned down at him. 

"Violet and I had a sleepover in the living room last night. We made ice cream sundaes with a bunch of toppings and chocolate sauce. And, we watched all three Jurassic Park movies! I fell asleep during the third one though so we have to watch it again. Can we watch it today?"

"Uh, yeah. But, you have something to do first."

"Clean my room. And, we were going to make cookies today. We should do that before the movie so we can eat them while we're watching."

John suddenly left, running outside. Your eyes shot to the window and your breath caught in your throat. 

Gator noticed and turned to Tate. "I think that I should be the one who makes cookies with you. You're an expert now. I'll tell you what, I'll help you clean your room and you can help me make cookies."

"Yeah!"

"Do you want to know something? I've never seen Jurassic Park."

"What?! Violet, he's never watched it!"

You kept your tears at bay as you tore your eyes away from Kayce sitting on his horse with Lee's body draped across. "What? That's crazy!"

"I know! After we make cookies we could watch them. Oh wait, you probably will be busy cooking."

"I think sandwiches for lunch today and for dinner, ordering pizza. What do you think?"

"Yes!"

"And, cereal for breakfast."

"Yay! We should spend the day together more often. I'll get the cereal!" He disappeared into the pantry.

"Don't worry about him, I got 'em."

"I'm not family. I should stay here."

"I don't know what happened but Kayce will need someone to help him get through this. And, I know without a doubt that Lee would want you to be that person." He gave you a gentle push towards the door. "Go."

You walked out onto the porch just as Rip started coming up the steps. "I was just coming to get you."

"How?" Was all you could get out while you watched John sitting on the ground holding his dead son. 

"Kayce said Lee wanted to get a few cows that strayed off. He told him not to go but Lee's stubborn. He raced off and didn't realize one of their guys was watching them. He shot Lee. Kayce got there just as it was happening. He made him pay, killed him." Rip surveyed your face after the last piece of information but it didn't phase you. 

"Where is he?"

"He's blaming himself. He won't listen to anyone so John sent me to get you. He took off into the trees." Rip motioned to the woods passed the hill behind the house. "Are you going to be good?"

"Mhm, I know where he went." Rip nodded and you started making your way toward the trees. 

*

After ten minutes of walking, you found him right where you thought he would be, by the treehouse. You went over to where he was sitting in the grass with his knees up and face buried in his arms. 

He heard you coming and knew it was you by your soft footsteps so he wasn't startled when you knelt next to him. 

All of the nervousness that you would normally feel being this close to him didn't show up. The only thing going through your head was how much he must be hurting. Your hand came up and gently pulled on his arm, making him sit up and flatten his legs. You didn't say anything, just climbed onto his lap. The second you did his arms wrapped around you and pulled you against him, crushing your body against his. You hugged him back. Your hand slid into his hair so you could hold him closer as he sobbed into your neck. Tears streamed from your own eyes from seeing him like this, from knowing what he went through. And, for Lee.

When his shoulders stopped shaking his grip eased and he lifted his head from the crook of your neck. One of your hands left his shoulders and rested on his damp cheek, he leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Kayce."

"I should have gone with him right away." He opened his eyes, anger flashed through them. "Instead of calling after him to come back, I should have gone with him. He would still be alive."

"You don't know that. There's a good chance that you wouldn't be here either. It's not your fault."

He lowered his gaze. "Yes-yes it is. I-"

"No." Your hands rested against his jaw, forcing him to look at you. "Kayce, I know you did everything you could. It's not your fault." His eyes left yours. "Look at me." You ordered softly and he did. "You tried to stop him but Lee is-was the most stubborn person I knew. Once he made his mind up about something, that was it. You did everything you could. Please," Your voice cracked as tears threatened to fall, "please, don't blame yourself."

He nodded. His hand slid across your cheek and into your hair, pulling you into a hug. "I'll try."

"Promise me." You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him back.

"I promise, Letty. I'd promise you anything." He added, his voice barely audible and not meant for you to hear. But, you did and hugged him a little tighter. 

*

"Tate?" He asked after the hug ended ten minutes later. 

"Gator's watching him. Tate was so excited. They were going to clean his room and make cookies before watching Jurassic Park."

A small smile pulled at his lips. "Thank you...for taking such good care of him, for everything you do for my family, and me."

"You don't have to thank me for any of that, Kayce. I want to do it. Your family has been nothing but welcoming and Tate is an amazing kid. Whatever you need, I'm here." His watery eyes held yours while the breeze made waves in the grass around you. "Lee was beyond proud of you. He always talked about how great of a dad you are, how loyal you are to your family...he loved you so much." A few tears started sliding down your cheeks.

"He was the one I went to when I needed to talk, he could calm me down when my anger got the best of me. He's gone. What am I supposed to do without him?"

"He will always be with you. He will still be watching from the sidelines when you're spending time with Tate. His hand will be on your shoulder when you want to deck someone."

A chuckle left his lips. "Deck someone?"

"I don't know what cowboys call it. Slug? Clock? Punch seems too formal." You giggled and he smiled, you shyly smiled back. "When Tate and I came out here yesterday he was making a list of things that needed to be fixed on the treehouse. And, what he wants to add." You went on since you could tell he didn't want to go back to the house yet. 

"I knew there'd be a few things that need to be fixed from the times I brought him out here. A couple of floorboards. The ladder." He cocked an eyebrow. "He wants to add what exactly?"

You grinned. "Well, he wants a roof because he wants to sleep out here with you but you need a roof in case it starts raining."

"Okay." Kayce nodded. 

"A fireman's pole so you can get down in 1.5 seconds." He laughed and you couldn't help but smile whenever you heard it. "Oh, and a barn so you can both ride out here when you spend the night. On separate horses. His own horse which you have yet to buy him." 

His laugh filled your ears. "Ah, yes. The horse. He's a bit young yet for taking care of his own."

"Maybe you should just give him yours since he still doesn't have a name yet." 

"You think so?" He teased back.

"Yes." 

After a few seconds of quiet, he spoke up. "Stay here with me for a while?" You nodded. He shifted so you were sitting between his legs both looking out at the view, his arms wrapped around you. A bald eagle flew overhead before slowly gliding around the valley. Kayce's arms held you tightly while you watched the giant bird floating gracefully on the air currents. 

Knowing he was thinking about Lee, you leaned back against him and rested your arms along his, hugging him as much as you could while being in front of him. 

*

The eagle had long since flown off, leaving you watching the clouds drifting along, your fingers mindlessly trailing up and down his arm. Little did you know, a spider was making its way up the back of your leg. His little legs were undetectable through the denim of the jeans you were wearing. It started climbing around, coming up onto your knee. "Ah!" You screamed, frantically brushing it away while scrambling backward. 

The sound of Kayce's laugh filled your ears as you climbed onto his lap, getting as much of your body as you could off the ground. 

"It's not funny." You said, your chest heaving. He didn't stop. "Stop." It came out with a laugh from hearing his but you gave his shoulder a gentle push. 

"It's just a little bug." He let out another laugh. 

"Bumble bees and caterpillars are bugs. Spiders are the work of the devil."

"Satan made the spiders?" A chuckle left his lips when you glared at him. His arms wrapped around you, keeping you in place so you wouldn't get up. "Okay. I'm sorry."

You let out a small huff. "No, you're not." 

"You're right. I'm not." Your jaw dropped causing him to laugh again. "I'm just buggin' you. Come here." He hugged you and you put your arms around him, hugging him back. "Are you okay or do you need an exorcism? Should I call a priest?" 

"You're hilarious." 

"Okay, I'm done. I promise." He chuckled. His arms squeezed you while you giggled. 

Silence settled between you and you knew his thoughts were back on his oldest brother. You hugged him a little tighter. 

*

"I guess we should probably head back," Kayce said quietly after fifteen minutes went by of holding each other. "It's been a few hours."

"Yeah, we can if you want." 

"Not really. I just want to hug Tate."

You smiled softly and stood up. "Let's go find Tate." 

He got up and you both started walking back. When you came over the hill and the house came into view, his hand wrapped around yours. As you walked onto the porch, his grip tightened. 

"Hey." Before he could open the door, you gave his hand a gentle tug, turning him to face you. "Remember what you promised me." Tears pricked the back of your eyes. 

"I remember: it's not my fault. I know you'll kick my ass if I break it." He chuckled as his eyes became watery. 

"If you ever start to break it, come find me. You don't have to talk about it. We can just sit and-and stare at the sky or go for a walk. Whatever." 

"I will." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and you gave him a small one back before you both walked inside. 

*

There was a knock on your bedroom door so you put your bookmark in your book. Not that you had read a single line because your thoughts were on John's oldest and youngest sons. "Come in."

Kayce stood in the doorway wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. "Hi." He said softly. 

"Hi," you set your book on the bedside table and slide over. 

He walked over and sat down on the edge of your bed. "I uh, I couldn't sleep and saw the light coming under the door. You...you told me this morning to come find you if..."

"We can't look at the stars but you can lie down with me." 

He pulled the extra blanket that was lying on the end of the bed over him before he lay down. His arms wrapped around your waist, his head rested on your chest. The sound of your steady heartbeat quickly lulled him to sleep. 

You reached down and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. He cuddled up closer causing a small, content smile to pull at your lips. Soon you were sleeping soundly, just like the cowboy lying in your arms.

*****

Five days later you walked into the living room wearing a simple black sundress and black cardigan. 

"Hi, hun." Beth gave you a small smile before she hugged you. 

"Hi."

John came over, holding his cowboy hat in his hands. "Hello, Violet. How is my son doing?" 

"I think once today is over it will help a bit."

"I think it will help all of us." Beth agreed as Kayce followed Tate downstairs, coming over to your little group. 

You hugged Tate, who had wrapped his arms around your waist. "Hey, bud."

"Why do we all have to wear black?"

"Because that's what people do at funerals," John told his grandson. "Speaking of which, we should head out." Beth linked her dad's arm before they made their way to the front door. Tate followed along behind with Jamie, who reached over and squeezed your forearm as he walked passed. 

"Hey." Your voice was quiet as you looked up at the cowboy who had spent every night in your room since Lee's death. He had fallen asleep in your arms but always slept on top of your blanket like a gentleman. 

He just nodded, keeping his head down. 

You closed the distance and rested your hands on the sides of his neck. "Kayce?" Your voice cracked. 

His watery blue eyes finally met yours. "I don't think I can do this." 

"Nobody blames you for what happened. It's not your fault."

"I know. You keep reminding me." A small smile graced his lips for a few seconds until it faded. "I just...I need to do this on my own...to say...say goodbye on my own."

"Okay."

"I'm okay." He assured when he saw concern in your eyes. "I'll be okay."

You nodded as Tate stuck his head inside. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah." Your hands left Kayce's face and slid down his arms to his hands. After holding them for a few seconds, you gave him a small smile and went outside. "Let's go." 

Tate's hand slipped into yours as you headed towards the spot of the ranch were they holding the service. "What about dad?" 

"He wants to say goodbye to your Uncle Lee by himself." Kayce's son just squeezed your hand and you continued. 

When you walked up, John looked down the road behind you. You shook your head. "He said he needs to do this alone."

John nodded and told the preacher to start.

*

The setting sun cast the most amazing sunset you had ever witnessed over the mountainous horizon. You pulled your phone out of the pocket of your cardigan and took a photo. While you were putting it away, the door opened behind you.

"Can I join you?" You looked up to see Kayce standing there and you nodded so he sat down next to you. "Thank you for helping with Tate today. And, thank you for helping me this past week."

A soft smile formed as your eyes met his. "You're welcome, even though you don't have to thank me. Whatever you need I'm here." 

"Sit with me for a bit." When you nodded, he slid closer before leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees. Not long after an eagle slowly drifted into view. 

Memories of sitting with him by the treehouse five days ago and seeing an eagle made you think of one person. Lee. Tears pricked your eyes as you rested your head on Kayce's shoulder. His hand immediately wrapped around yours. You both sat there in silence watching the bird float above the ranch until it disappeared into the mountains, along with the setting sun.

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒

pairings ❧ steve harrington x reader

summary ❧ jonathan, nancy, and (y/n) spend the night at the wheeler’s—recovering from their traumatic experiences

warnings ❧ female!reader, shit writing, mentions of blood, mentions of trauma

word count ❧ 1.7k

additional notes ❧ none ´･ᴗ･`

I take a step back, unable to tear my eyes away from the horrific scene in front of me. The creature, the man with no face, hunched over the deer's remains. It rips into the deer's soft flesh, devouring the insides as blood sprays everywhere. The brutality of the attack causes me to draw in a shocked gasp, my stomach churning in revulsion at the sight.

As I back away, gradually decreasing the distance between me and the creature, I accidentally step on a fallen tree branch, causing a loud snap to ring through the woods. My body freezes, terrified, as I wait for the thing to turn its attention towards me.

Immediately, the creature whips it's head around facing directly at me, at least I think. My eyes widen in shock and panic begins to wash over me, my heart pounding in my chest.

I don't waste another second, before I'm running as fast as my legs can take me.

"Nancy?!" I yell frantically into the thick, dark forest, hoping desperately that someone would answer my call. But, I'm met with only silence.

"Jonathan?" I cry out again, spinning all around, in hopes of spotting them, but the dense haze and floating particles makes everything so hard to see.

"This cannot be happening..." I whisper, feeling desperation and fear surge through me.

Suddenly I hear them, "(Y/n)?!"

Nancy.

"(Y/n), we're right here!"

Jonathan.

"Guys!!?" I cry again, "I'm here, I'm right here!"

"Just follow my voice!"

Just as I'm turning around, I see the creature once more, it's face covered in drool and poised to attack. Before I can react, it opens its mouth, releasing a loud screech in my direction. The sound causes my stomach to twist and my blood to run cold.

I let out a blood-curdling scream before running behind a thick tree in attempt to save myself. I listen as the creature stalks past the tree, my heavy breathing and racing heart sending me in a panic as I become convinced that the creature can hear my every move. I feel my muscles ache with tension as I remain silent and still, waiting for the moment that thing is far enough away for me to safely make my next move.

"(Y/n)! Follow my voice!!" Nancy's voice faintly yells.

I make a desperate run for safety, heading furiously toward the muffled cries of Nancy and Jonathan, who I know are nearby. I reach the tree where I originally crawled through and without hesitation I throw my crowbar through. Then I  throw myself down to my hands and knees, immediately beginning to frantically crawl through the narrow opening, all in attempt to escape the terrifying creature.

I blindly reach out, and someone takes my hand. Then I reach out my other arm and someone else grabs that one too. I feel myself being pulled through the slimy opening, dropping to the ground with a thud. Nancy and Jonathan rush over and both pull my into a desperate hug. I cling onto them as tears flow down my cheeks, my body wracked with sobs as the two of them hold me closely.

"It's okay."

"We're right here."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

Nancy had handed me a towel and now, wrapped in its warmth, we all sit silently on her bed. Our gazes flicker to the ground, unable to meet one another's eyes for fear of what we've just seen. And so, we sit there, not saying a word, processing the traumatic events, the only sound being the soft rustling of the towel around my shoulders.

"Why don't you shower off, (Y/n)?" Nancy says softly, breaking the silence, "It might make you feel better." She adds with a shaky smile and I nod. So, she stands up to grab me some clean clothes.

With Nancy off getting me some dry clothes and Jonathan making up our sleeping arrangements, I look out the window, my eyes scanning the ground cautiously. In the midst of my search, my eyes land on a blob of familiar brown hair, causing me to blink a couple times. Once I regain my composure, I notice the blob is no longer there, and I wonder whether I was hallucinating or if there really was something outside.

After Nancy gives me clean clothes, I head to the bathroom down the hallway and hesitantly lock the door behind me. Once inside, I begin to slowly peel off the slime-covered clothes that are clinging to my body. When the sticky mess is removed, I hop into the hot shower. I wash away the grime, but not the images of the creature, which flash through my mind, causes my breath the become ragged and my heart to pound. I quickly turn off the tap, and get out of the shower, getting dressed before heading back to Nancy's room.

As I walk into the room, they both look up, greeting me with sympathetic eyes.

"Better?" Jonathan asks, laying a sleeping bag on the ground.

"Yeah..." I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself, "Yeah, I think so."

"Do you want to go home or stay here—"

"I just..." I cut Nancy off, "I just don't want to be alone." I say sitting down on Nancy bed, my hair dripping onto the back of my shirt, "Do you?"

"No, uh..." Nancy starts, "No."

"I don't." Jonathan whispers, still crouched on the ground.

I nod slightly in response, then climb into bed with Nancy, who's sitting there patiently. Glancing over at Jonathan, who is tucking himself into the sleeping bag, gun in hand, I close my eyes and lean back against the pillow. However, despite my attempts to ease my mind and body, I open my eyes and let them restlessly wander around the ceiling. And the images of the creature flood into my consciousness. My body grows tense and I struggle to get comfortable in bed, unable to chase the horrific memories away.

"Can you just come up here?" Nancy hesitantly asks Jonathan after the moment of silence.

I hear rustling of the sleeping bag before a quiet, "Yeah." Escapes Jonathan's lips.

He climbs in the bed next to Nancy, her being in the middle, and places the gun in between them. Another moment of silence comes between us as we all lie there in bed together.

"Do you want the lights off, or—" Jonathan starts.

"On." Nancy and I whisper at the same time.

"Yeah." Jonathan whispers, "You know, it... it can't get us in here." He adds facing the two of us.

"We don't know that." Nancy says softly, with a worried expression.

"Yeah... we don't."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

The next morning,  Nancy and I quietly sit criss-cross opposite of each other as we flip through different books, searching for answers on that thing we found in the woods. I'm about to flip the page when I hear Jonathan grunt, sitting up, still clearly exhausted.

"Oh..." He whispers, scooting over to sit next to Nancy, "Hey." He says leaning over her shoulder to look at her book.

"Hey." Nancy and I respond softly, not looking up from our books.

"Sorry, Jonathan" I apologize for waking him, "We couldn't sleep."

"I figured." He responds glancing at me.

"Every time I close my eyes, I just..." Nancy starts, "Keep seeing that thing."

"Wherever I was, that place... I think that it lives there." I say, remembering last night, "It was feeding there. Feeding on that deer."

"That means that if..." Nancy inhales deeply, "Will and Barbra..." She trails off, her eyes slightly watering.

Jonathan notices her watery eyes and scoots even closer, "Hey. My mom said she talked to Will." He says in attempt to reassure the girl, "If he's alive, there's a chance Barbra is, too."

"That means that she's trapped..." Nancy replies frantically, turning towards Jonathan with a distressed look on her face, "In that place."

"We have to find it again." Nancy concludes.

"You guys wanna go back out there?" Jonathan asks me and Nancy.

"Maybe we don't have to." I say, catching the attention of both teens, "When I saw it, it was feeding on that deer. Meaning it's a predator, right?" I ask for confirmation.

"Right." Nancy and Jonathan reply.

"And it seems to hunt at night, like a... a lion or coyote." I say showing the two, the book I had been previously looking at, "But it doesn't hunt in packs like them. It's always alone like..."

"Like a bear." Nancy finishes with a nod, "And remember at Steve's, when Barb cut herself?" Nancy adds onto my conclusion, "And then, last night, the deer..."

"It was bleeding too." I say, putting the pieces together.

"One sec." Nancy flips through the book she was previously looking at, stopping on the page about sharks, "Sharks can detect blood in one part per million. That's one drop of blood in a million, and they can smell it from a quarter mile away." Nancy finishes, glancing at Jonathan and I.

"So you're saying it can detect blood?" Jonathan asks.

"It's just a theory." Nancy confirms softly.

"We could test it..." I suggest and Nancy nods slightly.

"But if it works..." Jonathan starts, worried.

"At least we'll know it's coming." I whisper, and we all stare at each other with nervous eyes.

A second later the doorknob to Nancy's room violently rattles causing all three of us to jump. My heart jumps to my throat and I immediately grab my heart. Glancing over, I notice that Nancy and Jonathan have their hands desperately clasped together.

"Honey, are you up?" I hear Mrs. Wheeler on the other side.

We all let out a relieved sigh.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm getting dressed." Nancy replies quickly.

"I uh, made some blueberry pancakes" Mrs. Wheeler says through the door.

"I'll be down in a second." Nancy responds again with a sigh.

Nancy and Jonathan glance down to notice their that their hands are clasped together tightly, quickly realizing their mistake. Feeling slightly awkward after being caught in the tense and uncomfortable situation, they quickly let go of each other and avert their gaze.

"Your mom doesn't knock?" Jonathan asks finally.

We laugh for the first time this morning.

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[eddie-sweetheart]

Dream Blunt Rotation

Eddie Munson sells weed. Occasionally, he consumes it too - and, when he does, he makes sure to find the best blunt rotation companions that Hawkins can offer.

Or, your boyfriend Eddie is hiding at Hopper’s cabin and you find him getting high with Jonathan and Argyle.

Tropes: Eddie x female reader, smoking weed, Eddie being high.

Warnings: Drug use (duh), swearing, fluffiness. Minors DNI!

Word count: 4.2 k

Author’s notes: This was surprisingly hard to write - I had the concept very clear in my mind, so it all came down to figuring out how to write the interactions, reactions and personalities of the characters and I was afraid to fuck it up lol but here it is! Hope you like it!!

🌹 Masterlist 🌹

August, 1986. Indiana is scorched by one of the most intense heatwaves of the decade. People are spending most of the time locked inside their houses, half-dressed in front of electric fans set on full speed, or soaking their sweaty bodies in large suburban pools, whose water is never fresh or clean enough, but it really doesn’t matter. Anything is better than enduring the unusual heat that’s been plaguing the whole state for weeks now. 

And that’s good news. With everyone finding refuge from the hot weather either inside or near any body of water they can find, all the streets are mostly empty, except for the occasional car driving towards the nearest ice seller in the neighborhood - and the same is true for the small town of Hawkins. Sure, no one’s really been casually going out and about since spring break and the strange earthquake that has ripped the ground open, but the heatwave has managed to discourage anyone who hasn’t left or moved somewhere else from venturing outside and risking a bad case of insolation. 

With the streets empty and deserted, you and Nancy Wheeler can easily take the road that leads to the woods without being seen or recognized. Keeping Nancy’s Station Wagon windows rolled down doesn’t help much - whatever slow, summer breeze is blowing outside, it doesn’t cool down the inside of the car, which feels like a burning oven. However, with the AC broken and no mechanic left in Hawkins to fix it, feeling the air blow it’s an illusion of freshness worth keeping.

The car finally slows down as you reach the beginning of the path leading into the trees, the roaring engine falling silent after some mechanical sputtering. You and Nancy get out and around the vehicle, shiny rivulets of sweat running down the sides of your reddened cheeks as you lift the trunk cover. 

Two big, brown paper bags are crumpled up in the small space. They feel heavy as you both lift them up, holding them close to your chests so that they won’t break under the weight of their content.

“Got it, Nance?” You ask your friend as she slams the trunk closed with one hand, balancing the bag in her other arm.

“Sure, thanks” Nancy smiles, throwing one last look at the empty road behind you to make sure no one’s seeing you. “Shall we go?”

You nod happily, and you both head into the woods. The first fallen leaves that are scattered on the earthy ground crunch under your shoes as you walk along the path, the hot sun rays filtering through the branches of the trees above you. It’s cooler here, in the shade of the forest, but the weight of the bags and the long walk makes you sweat anyways - as soon as you’ll reach Hopper’s cabin, you think, you’re going to get rid of the button-down shirt you’ve so stupidly worn over your top. 

You and Nancy keep walking for another ten minutes or so, exchanging only a few, almost-whispered words in order not to attract any eventual passer-by’s attention and to stay alert to your surroundings, each crack or movement making your head snap around. 

Once you get off the beaten trail, tall, wild weeds start caressing the skin of your naked legs, the occasional spiky branch grazing the hem of your tennis skirt. Luckily, no harm comes to you (except one little scratch on your left thigh) by the time you finally catch a glimpse of the small wooden cabin through the thick trunks. 

“About time” Nancy groans as you make your way up the short set of rotting stairs - the only part of the building that you and your friends still haven’t fixed despite your efforts to make the place livable once again. “I’m literally melting here”. 

She waits patiently behind you as you fumble with the door handle. Once you manage to get a hold of it without letting anything spill from the bag, you fling the wooden door open - and a gust of a strong, herbal scent hits your nostrils as soon as you step foot into the room.

Hopper’s Cabin has undergone a lot of changes in the past few years. From a barely livable shed mostly used to store boxes full of old, random things, to a small, two-room home where Eleven spent most of her time watching tv and eating Eggos, to an abandoned building with a few holes in the ceiling after the mind flayer attack, it transformed and adapted to what you and your friends needed, without ever losing its main function: being a safe space.

And it was exactly the safety of it that made Hopper’s cabin the most reasonable choice when it came to deciding where to hide Eddie Munson.

Resident metalhead and guitarist, super senior, soft drugs dealer, Dungeon Master, alleged murderer and most wanted man in Hawkins, Eddie sure had a lot on his plate after the whole Vecna thing, whose unexpected and terrifying events (cue Chrissy’s murder, the satanic panic frenzy, the double trip to the Upside-Down, the earthquake) still haunt you and your friends to this day. Thankfully, now that Jim Hopper is back from the dead and working with the authorities, the chances of Eddie being able to prove his innocence in the matter of the Spring Break killings have drastically improved - but you all agreed that in this case an angry, unknowing mob could be more dangerous than a special forces squad that has been informed about what’s really going on beneath Hawkins’ surface.

This means that Eddie has spent the last few months surrounded by the same four wooden walls, which yes, is totally boring and “fucking exhausting”, as he usually says - but it also means that for a while he doesn’t have to worry about the plethora of labels that have been stuck to him. Except for one, which luckily happens to be his favorite: your boyfriend.

You and Eddie love each other to bits. It started long before Vecna, in the Hawkins High corridors and noisy cafeteria, in the woods behind the school and on long walks at sunset in the suburbs. It was a love that bloomed naturally and intensely, a love that was blind to prejudice and the cruel social conventions that ruled the microcosm that is high school - a love that the latest events have only made stronger and more resilient. Sure, you have your differences and arguments like any other healthy couple, but yours is a special bond that inevitably makes butterflies flutter in your stomach every time you’re about to see him - just as it’s happening right now.

You’ve been meeting Eddie at the cabin every day since he moved there, sometimes with one or two of your friends to help you with the groceries refill - this week, it was Nancy who offered to come. These daily visits have turned out to be a great excuse to have some alone quality time together, in spite of it being a forced stay; your company and weed are the only things keeping Eddie sane right now, as he likes to remind you almost all the time, and judging by the strong smell and faint layer of smoke that are pervading the living room as you and Nancy step inside, today is a lucky day, as he’s getting them both.

However, you soon realize that the company might actually be already covered.

“Eddie, we’re here!” You call out as Nancy closes the door behind you, but your eyes widen in surprise once you notice that, indeed, he’s not alone. 

“Argyle?”

“Yoooo y/n, ‘sup?” Argyle replies with a wide, red-eyed smile from the old, tattered sofa, where he’s sprawled next to a definitely stoned Eddie.

Eddie turns his head around and once his gaze meets yours, a loved-up grin slowly creeps up on his lips. If his pupils were dilated before you entered his vision, now they have turned to two dark pools the size of coat buttons.

“Sweetheart” he says, throwing one arm over the backrest of the sofa, his metal rings catching the sunlight that’s peering through the curtains as he moves his hand towards you, “c’mere. I missed you”.

Even if Argyle’s presence definitely took you by surprise, you can’t help doing a double take at Eddie, a faint blush arising on your cheeks as you catch a glimpse of him from behind the sofa. The fan that’s moving back and forth in the corner of the room doesn’t help much with the high temperatures of late summer, which are making Eddie’s skin glisten with a faint layer of perspiration, somehow defining the muscles of his arms and torso exposed by his favorite Metallica t-shirt - whose sleeves have been replaced by two giant holes cut by Eddie himself, just as he did with the short sweatpants he’s wearing. 

His hair is slightly damp, probably from a recent shower, and it tickles your cheek lightly as you lean down to him to plant a soft kiss on his open lips, briefly tasting and smelling the weed - which brings your focus back on Argyle, your mind trying to do the math: if today is Tuesday, wasn’t he supposed to take the flight back to California with-

“Jonathan?” Nancy echoes you as soon as she notices her own boyfriend emerging from the kitchen on your right, barely balancing a small plate filled with chips and a bowl of eerily brownish guacamole.

“Nance!” He exclaims, almost losing his balance as he stumbles towards her and clumsily places a soft kiss on her cheek over the grocery bag she’s still holding. “Surprise! I’m still here!”

You and Nancy exchange a stunned, speechless look before she snaps back to reality and starts throwing a million questions at Jonathan, who has now taken his place back on the sofa, next to Argyle.

“Why aren’t you at the airport?” Nancy interrogates him as she places the paper bag on the kitchen counter before standing in front of the three of them, hands on her hips as she blocks the sight of whatever TV program they were watching. “You’re going to be late, and you’re going to miss the flight, and then what will Joyce-“

“Dude” Argyle warmly interrupts her, palms up as he keeps smiling at her, “you can totally chill. My man here is not catching any planes aaaany time soon”.

You place your own bag on the kitchen counter and get rid of the sweaty button-down on top of your t-shirt in silence as you and Nancy try to make sense of what Argyle has just said - while you also wonder why he’s just referred to Nancy as “dude”. 

“Nance” Jonathan intervenes, throwing a mouthful of chips and guacamole in his mouth, “we’re staying. My mom doesn’t want to leave Hopper, and El and Will hate the school in Lenora, plus there’s the whole earthquake thing… so, yeah, we’re staying”. 

Nancy looks bewildered for a second, then her expression finally relaxes and warms up. “Really?”

“Really” Eddie, Argyle and Jonathan exclaim in unison as rivulets of thick smoke curl up in the air from a huge joint sitting in the ashtray on the coffee table.

“I, uh- that’s great” Nancy says with an unexpectedly timid smile, taking a few steps towards Jonathan and leaning down to carefully kiss him back on the cheek, trying to avoid all the chip crumbles that are scattered on his lips. “I was kind of hoping for it”.

“And guess what, Wheeler” Eddie adds, slapping his palms on his naked thighs and interrupting the fond gaze between Jonathan and Nancy, “our friend Argyle here is staying, too” he declares, placing one hand on Argyle’s shoulder, an unhinged grin plastered on his lips as he shakes the long-haired guy back and forth. 

“Sure I am” Argyle confirms, nodding just a few too many times as he grabs the joint from the ashtray and takes a long drag, “My mission is to convince my boss to open a Surfer Boy Pizza here in Hawkins”.

“Good luck with that” Nancy replies, heading back towards the kitchen to help you put away the groceries; by now you’ve both realized that it’d be useless to ask the others to collaborate.

“What’s the difference between this Surfer Boy Pizza and normal pizza?” Eddie asks, gesturing wildly with one hand while he grabs the blunt Argyle is offering him with the other.

“Dude, are you kidding?” Jonathan replies, passing his weird-looking snacks over to Argyle, “you’ve never had a Surfer Boy Pizza?”

“Never been to California, man” Eddie states, his voice a little hoarse as he puffs out some smoke. 

“They have it in Nevada too, my dude. You’re welcome to any state, just say your old friend Argyle sent you - I’m sure there must be a discount or shit. And be ready to taste the most amazing pineapple pizza you’ve ever had in your life” Argyle explains, “and if you want it at home, we deliver it hot to your door”. 

Eddie nods enchanted, his curly and now almost completely dry hair bobbing up and down as he passes the joint over to Jonathan. 

“And the vans, man” Jonathan adds with a dream-like tone, “the vans are incredible. They are so big inside, and run faster than you think. And the surfboard on top? You can see it coming from a mile away”.

Back in the kitchen, you and Nancy exchange a startled look.

“Guys” you exclaim, unintentionally slamming the cupboard closed with a bang, “how exactly did you get here?”

Three heads spin around and three pairs of reddened eyes look at you two with wonder. 

“We drove” Argyle replies, his wide smile still glued to his lips. 

“We walked” Jonathan says at the same time, throwing a confused look at his friend. 

“Multitasking. Shit, that’s crazy” Eddie absentmindedly exclaims, crossing his hands behind his head and leaning back on the couch, his shirt slightly riding up and exposing his happy trail. 

You take your eyes off of him (not without some degree of difficulty) and you address the other two with a worried look, mirrored by Nancy. 

“Guys” you slowly begin, making sure that they understand your every word, “did you drive here with the pizza van? Because if you did and someone saw you, we might be compromised”. 

Eddie almost jumps up from his seat then, going from a relaxed resting moment to hissing a million “shit shit shit” as he frantically looks back and forth between Jonathan and Argyle - but Argyle himself interrupts him immediately. 

“Chill, dude” he explains, adjusting his baseball cap backward, “we obviously thought of that, so I came up with a great idea”

Jonathan nods enthusiastically, a single drop of sweat glistening on his forehead - whether it’s from the tension or the summer heat, you will never know. “Great idea, yes. Genius, really” he chips in, apologetically smiling at Nancy. 

“We drove the van into the woods” Argyle explains, now directing his grin at you, “then left it among the trees, veeeery well hidden, and we walked the rest of the way”. 

Silence fills the cabin once again as you quizzically look at the stoned trio. Eddie slumps back into the sofa with a relieved sigh, accepting the blunt Jonathan is handing back to him and taking another long drag, while Argyle is still smiling at an undefined spot somewhere between you and Nancy. 

“You better hope it worked” Nancy finally states, pointing a finger at the boys before turning around and going back to the groceries, shaking her head in amusement and surrender. 

“Jesus” you sigh, grabbing the last items from your bag and putting them in the old fridge, “those three together are a real menace”. 

“You bet” Nancy replies, “but there’s not much we can do except keep them as they are. And minimize the damage, of course” she concludes with a smile, neatly folding the two paper bags and putting them away in a drawer. 

“Got to agree here” you reply, pushing yourself up to sit on the counter after grabbing a round carton box you’ve left out on the table and two big spoons. “Ice cream?”

Nancy flashes a big smile at you, taking one of the spoons you’re offering and leaning against the counter beside you. “Yes, please” she exclaims as you open up the box. You both start eating, occasionally eavesdropping on the conversation that’s being held a few feet away. 

“I’ve just had an idea” Eddie exclaims, dropping the half-smoked blunt in the ashtray and sitting up straight as if he’s about to make a whole speech. “If you leave the pizza van here in the woods, we could be… neighbors” he tells Argyle, who slowly nods in appreciation.

“Yeah, dude, that’d be so cool” Argyle replies in awe, “we could renovate the whole thing, put on some fairy lights…”.

You and Nancy hold back your giggle at the thought of Argyle setting up twinkling lights in his pizza van. 

“And we could put the old sofa we have in our garage out in the front” Jonathan adds, stealing the last chips from the bowl still sitting in Argyle’s lap.

“Shit, that’s perfect” Eddie exclaims, his mischievous smirk back on his lips as he looks at the other two with a gaze full of complicity, “we could spend the nights out in the woods, with a fire and shit. Smoke, maybe, and play D&D”.

“When did you become such an outdoor person?” You call out at Eddie with a smirk after a spoonful of ice cream. 

Eddie slaps one hand on his chest, right over his heart, looking at you with a wounded grimace from the couch. “You wound me, princess” he exclaims with a pout, “you know I miss the fresh air”. 

“Fair point, sweetheart” you concede, and his smile immediately comes back to light up his face at the nickname you used. 

“What’s D&D?” Argyle asks, and you, Nancy and Jonathan immediately roll your eyes. 

“Heeere we go” you mutter, going back to your ice cream, but you can’t help a smile from creeping up on your lips as you catch a glimpse of Eddie’s passionate and excited gaze at the mention of his favorite game. 

“It’s like, the best game ever, man” Eddie states before solemnly clearing his voice. “Dungeons and Dragons. A game for brave adventurers, for those with unbounded imagination, a world of fantasy and magic that will turn you into a heroical knight, or a cunning thief, or an evil wizard”.

Argyle stares at him in awe, his eyes dreamily following each movement of Eddie’s hands. Even Jonathan has stopped eating, his mouth agape and his attention completely grabbed by Eddie’s theatrical recounting of the game’s rules. 

“Shit, dude” Argyle eventually exclaims, elbowing Jonathan in the side once Eddie’s finished explaining how a campaign works with a satisfied final declaration of D&D’s many qualities, “you’ve never told me about this stuff. It’s sick as fuck, dude”. 

“That’s because I don’t play” Jonathan simply replies, “but Will and Mike do”. 

Argyle shakes his head in disbelief before addressing Eddie again. “Dude, we have to play” he eagerly proposes, “when the van is set. It’s perfect, man, and we could set the mood with some of my special Purple Palm Tree Delight. Shit, that would be so incredibly cool.”

“I’m in, man” Eddie agrees, offering his hand and grabbing Argyle’s in a tight shake. “We need to start thinking about the campaign”. 

“You could go for aliens this time” Nancy jokingly suggests as she places her spoon in the sink, “change it up a bit”. 

“Woooah” Argyle laughs in surprise, “aliens? We can do that?”

Eddie solemnly nods. “Sure as hell. We can do whatever we like. We can have aliens, or dragons, or ghosts even. Maybe” he continues, standing up and starting to pace around the room, making you almost see the little gears in his brain running and working, “we could have a village that needs to be saved from monsters coming from the sky. Nobody knows what they are, or why they are there, and maybe there’s a princess hidden in a tower that knows the secret to fight them” he explains, and slowly his gaze moves in your direction as he continues the story he’s creating.  

“A princess whose hair catches all the sunlight and the moonshine, whose eyes are the color of the forest, whose voice is heard singing every day at sunset, and whose heart is made of all things sweet and golden”. 

He utters and mumbles all those words with his reddened, watery eyes locked on yours, and once he stops talking everyone is looking at you as well. You blush lightly and try to casually look away as you climb down the counter and wash the ice cream stickiness off of your hands in the sink. 

“Dude” Argyle says, his brows furrowed as he moves his gaze back and forth between you and Eddie, “did you just describe your girlfriend?”

Eddie’s face suddenly turns purple, and as you try to hold back a chuckle - the result of a mix of amusement and slight embarrassment - he starts stammering with no sense whatsoever. 

“No!” he exclaims, but he bites the word back as soon as it’s out. “No, I mean, yes, but uh, not really - like, shit, yeah she might be a little similar to y/n but uuuuh… god, okay!” He finally admits, surrendering to Nancy’s unimpressed stare, “okay, yes, y/n is my muse. I admit it. She’s beautiful, and inspiring, and I love her very fucking much.” He admits, and his unease slowly turns into… pride? 

“I mean” Eddie adds, moving slowly across the room towards you, wavering a bit as he walks, “have you guys seen her?”

You blush timidly as he leans against the counter beside you, slipping an arm around your shoulders. “I mean, for this little one right here” Eddie states, his loved-up, big eyes staring down at you, “I could plan a thousand campaigns and write a million stories”.

In spite of the summer heat that’s pervading the cabin, you shiver at the touch of Eddie’s skin on yours. Feeling his body beside you never fails to make your own feel a certain kind of way, and you try your best to hide it behind a casual expression - without much success, however, as you can't help but stare back at Eddie and get lost in his eyes, the strong scent of weed now close, intoxicating and… exciting. 

“Okay, guys” Jonathan awkwardly intervenes with a cough as he, not without difficulty, stands up from the couch, “I think it’s best if we go now”. 

“Yeah, uh, right” Argyle echoes him, getting up as well and making his way towards the door while mumbling his goodbyes. 

“Not so fast” Nancy interjects, quickly putting herself between them and the door. “Keys, please. I’m driving you two home”.

Argyle looks at her, confusion clouding his face. “But isn’t the van home? Like, next door?”

You chuckle out loud this time, and even if Nancy is trying to stay as serious as she can, you can spot the same laughter behind the curve of her lips. 

“Not yet, dude, sorry” she replies, extending her hand and flexing it twice, motioning to Jonathan to hand her the keys to the pizza van. 

After a few tries, as he first hands her his headphones and then a battered lighter, she finally gets a hold of them and turns towards you for one last time. 

“Behave, you two” she half-jokingly states as she points a menacing finger at you, but the flicker in her eyes and her soft smile easily chase away whatever seriousness is left in her for today. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n?”

“Sure. Thanks for helping me with the groceries, Nance” you reply with a single nod and a grin, leaning just a little more into Eddie’s side. 

With a final goodbye, your friends leave the cabin, Argyle throwing one last wink in your direction as he closes the door behind him - and now, you’re left alone with Eddie. Finally, you might even say. 

“Sooo” he begins, cornering you as he turns to face you, his arms at your sides with his hands flat on the warm surface of the counter, “we should behave, huh?” He asks you with a smirk, his long hair tickling your neck as he leans down to kiss your exposed collarbone. 

“Yeah, I think so” you reply, your voice already strained as his lips move up to meet yours in another sweet, sloppy kiss.

“I guess that Wheeler won’t mind us not wasting the good stuff then, right?” He then continues, almost in a low whisper as he nods to the now smaller joint that’s been left in the ashtray. 

“I think that’s quite responsible, yes” you nod in agreement, matching his mischievous smile as he scoops you up with a swift motion and brings you to the couch, ready to spend the rest of the day with his dream blunt rotation - you. 

—♥︎—

Hope you enjoyed this one shot :) Feedback is always welcome!

[nikkisheep]

I understand if this isn’t something your interested in but if you are and would write it that would be awesome!! Could you do a curvy fem wheeler reader x Eddie Munson one? The reader is Mike and Nancy’s older sister that left for college as soon as she was accepted. She’s a lot like Mike, she’s into dnd, the same type of music, nerdy comics and doesn’t fit in their little cookie cutter family. She’s got that hippie vintage vibe going on and actually left to go to art school. Most people forget they have an older sister because she’s just so much different than Nancy and their parents but to Mike she hangs the moon and is the coolest person ever. She’s the one person he can call for any kind of advice and is constantly telling the hellfire guys how cool she is. Well when she comes home for break and the boys need a sub they waste no time asking her, I mean she did teach them everything they know. Mike is so excited she’s playing and can’t wait to tell Eddie. Of course Eddie is excited to meet the older wheeler kid that is “Oh so amazing”. Let’s just say she’s everything he expected and then some, from her ripped up mom jeans to her tie dyed crop top, the long wild curly hair, tattoos and a nose piercing she’s nothing like her sister. He thinks he’s died and went to heaven.

(I know it’s a bit lengthy but I love the idea of Mike having a older sibling he looks up too and is into the same things he is, I feel like he doesn’t really have someone older to look up too like the other kids do.)

Eddie Munson x Wheeler!reader

Warnings: reader is a female, swearing, Mike looks up to reader, flirting (kinda), reader calls eddie pretty as a teasing way

Summary: Request above

Looking for a sub for Eddie's DnD was harder than Dustin and Mike thought, they had asked everyone they knew. No one wanted to hang out with the freaks of Hawkins. Especally, Eddie "the freak" Munson. They continued to ask but still no luck. They called it quites and went home.

---

You were laying on your stomach in your bed, flipping through one of Mike's comics that you knew he was going to threaten to kill you for taking. As the eldest Wheeler sibling, you took all of the disappointment from Mom and Dad, which left Mike and Nancy looking like angels.

You twirled your curled hair around your finger as you flipped another page. Your eyes scanned the words when a slam from the front door came. You weren't expecting your parents back until late tonight and school didn't end for a bit longer.

"Oh my God I hate this so much!" A young boy's voice yelled.

You smiled to yourself before hollering, "Maybe don't slam the front door."

You hear Mike gasp and hollered out a few "Hellos". You could not stop laughing at him. You hadn't seen him since you left for art school. You wanted to have an art studio by the age of twenty. You graduated at seventeen and left before you turned 18.

You rushed down the stairs, quietly, and grabbed Mike by the back of his neck. He let out a scream and tried to tackle you to the ground.

"Chill kiddo," You laugh.

"Y/n," He breathed before looking to make sure that you were really there.

"How's my little brat been?" You open your arms.

Normally, Mike didn't give many hugs unless they were for Eleven but still. He missed you. He was a lot closer to you than Nancy. You both felt that you didn't fit into the perfect family.

"Wha-When did you get back? Why are you here? I mean I-I am happy that you're here but like, why?" Mike scrambled out.

"Chill out dude, I came back to set up a studio."

"But about moving to New York?"

"Mike, my family is here. I missed playing DnD with you and the boys. I missed y'all."

He hugged you again.

"So, I have a campaign to go to tonight and we need a sub for Lucas," Mike started, "And I was wondering if you would want to fill in."

"Mike, I would be honored." You place a hand on your heart and smile.

Mike goes to phone the boys to tell them that he had a sub.

----

"Eddie, I am telling you, she is the best DnD player that I have ever seen. She is better than all of us put together," Mike said.

"I'm sure it's not that hard to be better than you," Eddie scoffed.

"He isn't lying, she is a badass." Dustin chipped in.

The boys nodded in agreement.

"She better be better than what you say she is, Wheeler."

Eddie didn't believe that anyone could be better than him. Mike was smug at the challenge that Eddie had given him. He knew that not only were you very good, but you also knew how to win.

"Oh I promise words don't do her justice."

----

Pulling up to the school, you step out of the car. Your tie die crop top was raised a bit from you stretching, your jeans hugged your hips very well. Your boots thudded against the ground before you walked inside the building.

Making your way to the DnD room, you could hear the guys yelling. You opened the door and the noise was louder.

"I'm sorry but this room is off limits to others during our game," A man with long curls yelled from his "throne".

"Y/n!" The boys yelled.

You nodded to them.

"Well, well, if it isn't the famous Wheeler sister?" The man said.

"Listen here, dude, I ain't got time for this so if you don't mind I would like to get to the game." You smirk at his faulter.

"Fiesty, Wheeler."

"Get to it," You smile.

You move to sit down but the man grabs your wrist gently.

"What level are you?"

"Level tweleve warlock," You smirk at the jaw clench he gives.

"What's wrong pretty? A girl can't be higher than you," You tease.

"Whatever, my name is Eddie."

---

The game starts but Eddie is not playing like he normally does. The boys notice that his attention is on your exposed cleavage and tattoos. He notices the nose piercing and the bird tattoo on your shoulder.

Eddie sends you down a dark cave and you clear out the enemies. Eddie is amazed and angry. He worked hard on this game. Normally, he goes home victory but now you were winning at every turn.

"Y/n what is your move?" Eddie asks.

"Go for the roll of eight," Mike shouts.

"Yeah, go with the eight." Dustin and the boys yell.

You roll and land an eight. The guys jump out of their seats and shout. The room is full of yells of victory. They finally beat their Dungon Master.

"Yes, Y/n you are the best," Mike yelled before giving you a hug.

You wrap your arms around him and cry out in victory. Eddie looks surprised.

"What's wrong Pretty?''

A jaw clench.

"Oh come on Pretty, try a little bit harder next time."

He steps closer to you, almost touching you.

He breathes, " You don't know how hard I can go."

"Maybe I want to," You whisper into the shell of his ear.

Eddie smirks.

"How are you so good at DnD?"

"Well, Pretty, I taught Mike and the boys everything they know."

"Well you didn't teach them very good," He laughs.

"I said I taught them everything they know, not everything I know."

You offer rides to the boys and wink at Eddie when you close the door.

"Jesus," Eddie whispers into the air.