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itstheghostofmypast · 2 months

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MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

Okay- so, first of all, thank you so much Anon, for this ask and I'm sorry I responded to late, but I had to take my time with this one.😭💖.

So here it goes, (i know i said i'd do two biases, im sorry guys, i love yall too much and i get too invested the word count was killing me)

1) @edenesth

Park Seonghwa- Rivals to Lovers

Here me out, he owns an old book shop across the street, he's been there longer than you too. This was his turf, his town, his people, people who loved to read in his cozy library, with its olden print books, worn out pages, read through by generations of the same family.

All was great until one spring she shows up, with her whole pastel plus minimalistic vibes, all with the cutesy trinkets and plants, with warm lights- he noticed some books too, but they were only for show- in conclusion it was a horrid place.

A horrid place where most teens would go to after school now, no longer going to his bookshop, where they'd gossip, read novels or mangas, or even look at pretty pictured magazines (the safe kind, mind you he kept nothing nasty). What's worse was that the older folk began to go there, too! Especially because of how nice she was to them, so polite and so pretty and - ANNOYING.

He even went to 'inspect' the place, with a sour mood and an ill intention, though he was greeted with a burst of sweet aroma, one that had his stomach growling and his inner foodie, begging him to pick at least one of the many pastries or have a cup of steaming, delicious coffee. What came next was worst, her, with her gentle smile and angelic features.

"Hello! Welcome to Spring Avenue, how may we help you today?"

"You're taking my traffic."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Of course you don't."

With that he had walked out, starting a cold war, between the two. Ironically, she was a pacifist, never a fighter, but boy, did he piss her off, he knew all those buttons that would have her steaming like a hot latte.

The war had begun;

It all began when he put a " 10% off sign on Mangas, Fashion Magazines and Manhwas" that took a god chunk of her traffic.

In retaliation, she launched a "Friendship campaign, any customer that brings a friend gets a cake slice free."

Spend 2 hours reading here and leave with a borrowed book/novel of your choice."

"Buy a coffee and get a cookie free."

This continued throughout the season, so did their rivalry, to an extent that led their divided customers sense the tension. And like usual, highschoolers are escapists and this little feud of Seonghwa and her's was a problem they'd like to avoid, from her cafe they could see their beloved bookshop owner Seonghwa scowl at them, and if they were leaving the bookshop, the kids could feel the uneasiness in her smile that she give them once they'd pass her by.

"Congratulations, you're in loss." She sighed, closing the file, earning a scowl from the cafe owner, "Hey, I'm just here to check your bills, loss, and profit stuff, don't shoot the messenger."

"Alexia, come on." She whined, this was her dream, she'd put in her life's savings for this, "What should I do, Lexi?"

"Gosh, maybe not give out stupid discounts four times in a month?" Alexia sighed, rubbing her face, leaning back to stare at the bookshop across the street, "San said he knows the owner, maybe you guys could do a collab, instead of trying to each other's traffic."

"Who's San?" She asked her best friend, slash account manager and Public Relations officer- wait, was she dating!?

"Oh- uh- hey would you look at the time?" Alexia got up, grabbing her disposable coffee cup and bag, "Tell you what, you ask the bookshop owner dude about this? Okay? I'll get back with the details on Monday!" She called out as she walked towards the door, ignoring the cafe owner's questions about this San, "BYE LOVE YOU!"

That's how she found herself standing Infront of his bookshop that evening, still debating if she should go in or not? Was this idea even worth it, the guy was rude, annoying, stupid, incredibly handsome and sweet with kids and- the hell.

"Can I help you?" His deep voice came out of no where

She almost jumped out of her skin, only to turn around and spot the man she had been hating for the past ten months, standing there in all his angleic glory, with that ugly sweater and that overly comfortable scarf, not to mention his hair, his undercut had grown, quiet well too, perhaps he really was blessed with good genes.

"I uh..." she trailed off, pouting to herself, thinking of how he'd react, maybe he would make fun of her, or insult her or even go as far as to tell the town about her poor business management skills.

"Are you still open?" his question had caught her off guard, staring at him quietly wanting to see if this was a trick, only it wasn't, for when she nodded, he had looked around and then asked if he could...get a cup of coffee from there.

Of course she had said yes, why on earth would she say no to a customer, she needed the business. Unfortunately, that one cup of coffee, turned into two, then three, well- not as unfortunate as she would like it to be.

The two, mind you, who still didnt like each other, began to learn a lot about each other. He learnt how she was genuinely a sweet, caring and gentle person, her persona was indeed not fake but very real, this is who she was. She on the other hand, learned that he had inherited this business from his family, and he was an avid reader- sort a geek, a cute geek, a cute geek that could eat a whole chocolate cake with three mugs off coffee like it was nothing.

It wasn't until the third week of him visiting her cafe, that when he had stepped out to go there, he had bumped into her. She had almost fallen, but he was quick, gripping her wrist and pulling her into his chest, only to laugh when she mumbled an excuse, though he was glad she couldn't hear how his heart was hammering against his chest, wanting to stuff itself in the breast pocket of her coat.

That day she had asked him if she could check out his book shop, because she had been looking for old English bakery recipes and she couldn't find it anywhere, not any store around or online. Of course he had taken her to the right isle, in the right section in no time, this bookshop was his life and collecting and sifting through books was his passion, that day he had seen her passion, she had sat there, on the floor the entire night, reading book after book, mumbling to herself as she noted down recipes. He had sat next to her, helping her jot down notes, bringing her coffee- well not as good as hers, but good enough. At one point he had even ordered them a late night snack, well snacks, because he's a growing boy. He had closed the shop with the two inside, even pulled out a blanket and some cushions from the lounging area so she could comfortably work- she was a passionate girl and ironically he had realised something that night, only it turned into a full blown epiphany in the morning.

Next morning she had woken up right next to him, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her as the blanket was draped over the two, they had fallen asleep while reading- oh my, he really was pretty up close.

Though the two pretended nothing had happened, nothing had changed, however, everyone around them had noticed, the highschoolers would giggle when he'd come to her cafe for a cup of coffee, or how the older folk would pat him on the back when she'd step into the bookshop calling him out for help, with her little, "Hwa?"

Neither really knew how it happened, but one night while closing up he had waited outside for her, telling her he'd drop her home, even though she lived close by. Slowly this had become part of their routine, he'd often talk about the latest manga or an issue to the Star Wars comics or whatever on earth he'd talk about, but she'd always listen. Always smile and laugh at his jokes, while he'd readily accept any test recipes she'd try, telling her that his stomach was like a blackhole.

But when do the two get together? Simple, on New Years Eve, when he had to close his shop but she had decided to leave her cafe open, wanting to cater to all those who were celebrating the arrival of the new year with their loved ones, she knew Seonghwa had to go home anyway and she didn't want to spend the night alone since her family was out of town. What she did not expect was a few minutes before the strike of midnight, the cafe door chimed open as she turned to greet the customer, only to freeze at the sight before her- Seonghwa entering with a bouqet of origami flowers, smiling at her as he slowly walked to her;

"I- I know you don't like plucking flowers or bouqets, so I made you these."

"You...made these?"

"Ofcourse."

"W-why?"

"I...because I..." but before he could finish his sentence his ears picked up the count down, causing him to quickly place the flowers on the counter and as soon as the fireworks rang in her ears, it was as if she could feel the burning warmth in her body, taking a second to process how his lips were on hers, his hands cupping her face as her hands instinctively went up to grip his coat, pulling him even closer. Who knew that one day she'll end up opening a cafe that also served as a bookstore, who knew that one day, her little, evil, handsome rival bookseller, would be the New Year's kiss she never knew she needed, the man she never knew she needed, the lover that she was blessed to have.

2) @yessa-vie

Jeong Yunho- Neighbors to Lovers

No, she was not the new tenant, he was, and for some ungodly reason he was also extremely ill-prepared to live alone. Like any other weekend, she was leaving her apartment to go to the cafe to sit in peace and finish her novel, but God had other plans. She had opened the door to come face to face with a tall, good-looking man, though the smile he wore scared her- he was one of those extroverts.

No, he was not mean at all, nor was he the manipulative kind, Jeong Yunho really didn't know how the pre-installed dishwasher worked, that's why he had come to her that fateful weekend, about to knock on the door but she had beat him to it, opening the door before he could, earning a sheepish smile in return- who knew his neighbour would be so gorgeous, who knew purple could look so good on someone?

"Hey, I- I moved in across the hall, apartment 19, lol, I guess we're neighbours, huh?"

She had only nodded meekly at his question, pulling her satchel closer to her person, not because she didn't like him, no, but because she wasn't much of a talker anymore, not so confident either and also- because regardless of how good looking this stranger was, he was still a stranger.

"I'm Yunho- Sorry to bother you, I know you must be going somewhere, but I- I uh- I wanted to know if you know how to operate the dishwasher?"

That's how she found herself in his apartment, leaving the maindoor wide open, so she could escape if something were to happen, but to her surprise he was just a regular idiot, one who thought the dishwasher was a rack used to dry the dishes- men.

That night Yunho met an angel, one who seemingly had her life planned out, held together well, while he was still trying to build something out of his- data analyst or not, living alone was not the easiest thing to do, yet, she seemed so nonchalant about it.

Overtime however, she noticed how he would come over to ask her for help often, sometimes it was the 'fridge isn't working right' other times it was the 'how much water do you add to rice while boiling it?' Honestly, she would've told him to piss off if it were anyone else, but it was her polite neighbour, her sweet polite, new neighbour who would pass her by in the corridor every morning, smiling at her and wishing her a good morning- even if she wasn't a morning person.

Ironically, he continued to ensure they cross paths, only because he wanted to get to know her, to talk to her, he really needed a friend, and since moving here meant Mingi and him could no longer hang out 24/7, he really needed another person to talk to, someone who was not Hongjoong from the finance department.

Ironically, she did not protest or tell him to get lost, instead she's quietly help him whenever he'd approach her, giving him a shy smile then going back to her apartment. That purple door tempting him to go back and knock on the old wood, wanting to know what Narnia like secrets she hid behind.

She let it be, truthfully, she wanted fo befriended him, but during these little adventures, she realised she had begun to neglect her book, the same book she had a deadline for, the same book she had been working on day and night, and now this puppy pops up and takes all her attention?

So what does she do? Simple, she starts to create some form of distance, leave before he'd be awake, come back home later too, also even if he did come to knock on her purple door, she wouldn't be there to answer it, so technically she wouldn't feel guilty right?

Wrong, instead God had punished her with a severe writer's block, one so bad that she had missed two of her deadlines, and according to her publisher, she was on her last chance. That's how she found herself at the very cafe where she would find solace, now on the verge of tears, staring at the laptop in pure agony, maybe this was payback for leaving him unattended and ignoring him or maybe she was never meant to be a writer.

A fresh cup of coffee was placed next to her hand, causing her to quickly pull back and look at the stranger, only her panicked eyes met a softer, more timid gaze, a gentle smile gracing her presence.

"Hey... you looked like you needed the juice." He smiled, gesturing towards the chair, as if asking for permission to sit down next to her, to which she nodded.

"I uh..." she paused. Should she even be asking him how he's been? Does she have the right to do so, or are they just neighbours- well, at this point, two strangers living across each other.

"I read your books by the way," he began, giving her a gentle smile, as he felt the way she had tensed up, honestly, initially he thought she was like that because his presence made her uncomfortable, but he soon realised it wasn't him, but she usually was this tensed all the time, this nervous and unsure, which made no sense to him because she was one of the most well functioning person he had met in the city, and he was glad to have moved in next to her, "It's great, the plotline is amazing and the details- you really captured the essence, I particularly liked the world you created, honestly, when I moved here I thought everyone wore those 'blockers' too. To not...feel stuff you know," he turned to look at her, only to catch her staring at him, a small chuckle escaping him when she cleared her throat, averting her gaze, "You were the only one who was nice enough to help me, even for the stupidest of tasks...it means a lot."

She stared at him in awe and disbelief. She had been trying to avoid him for almost a month now, couldn't he tell? Or was he just playing dumb- I mean he totally could be dumb, he didn't know a toaster comes with settings, just thought the numbers were there for the appeal.

After that the two began to "spend time together", it was strictly casual mind you, nothing personal, though he would drop by more often than usual, sometimes after work, sometimes on the weekends- to have dinner with her, he'd bring dessert, or to watch a movie with her, he'd bring the snacks- no, nothing domestic at all.

Or so they thought, because a few months in, he had come over by swinging the door open, yes he had the keys and she had his keys, only to find her standing there all dressed up.

"Where are you off to? What about movie night?"

"Oh no..." she gasped, "Yuyu, I forgot to tell you I had a date tonight." A date? Why? With whom?

"Wait, why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why would you go on a date when we- I mean...isn't it weird? Shouldn't you be more focused on your book, instead of this temporary romance?"

"Temporary romance?!"

"W-wait, I didn't mean it like that. It came out wrong-"

"Out."

"W-what?"

"I said get out!"

That happened a week ago, she had been avoiding him for a whole week, she had been ignoring his calls, his texts, his knocks- no he didn't barge into her apartment, it took him a great amount of time to get her to open up to him and he idiotically clowned himself. So he decided to go to the next thing, go to the official reading of her book launch.

He waited there at the back, listening to her intently, taking in each word, who knew he would ever fall in love with, her neighbour, the same girl who had helped with the dishwasher, brought him dinner at night, spent time teaching him the usual ropes of living alone- who knew the very same girl had changed the plot of the book, basing it on her life, expressing how the shy, depressed protagonist, who thought dying her hair purple would make her feel better, realised that the only thing that would make her feel better would be a companion, a tall, handsome man, with a heart of gold- it was not that she needed a man, no, she just needed a friend, and she had finally found one, the inspiration to her writer's block, the Chandler to her Monica, the- HE DIES!?

He gasped, appalled at the way she had ended the story, where at the end, on his deathbed the man tells his beloved how she never needed him, but he needed her to function, to live through each day- bloody hell.

He waited for them to leave when he finally approached her, somewhat upset-no, he was very upset, as she stopped cleaning up to look at him, raising a questioning brow, "What?"

"I can't believe you!"

"Funny, Jeong, I should be the one saying that."

"What!? You killed me!?"

"What?"

"I come here to declare my undying love- no I come here to tell you how much you mean to me and apologise for never asking you out but getting upset when someone actually asked you out and you KILL ME IN YOUR NOVE?"

"First of all, I accept your apology, secondly, the protagonist was DEFINITELY NOT YOU, I made him up WAY BEFORE I met you."

"Oh..." he stared at her then looked around the almost empty bookshop, maybe he should just leave-

"So...Will you ask me out properly now or...'l"

"Move in with me."

"Too fast."

"Was worth a shot." He smiled when she let out a small laugh shaking her head at his antics, "Take me to dinner, Yunho." She smiled watching him lean closer then pause, as if asking for her permission, "Can I...?" His question was answered when she gripped him by the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer to crash her lips against his, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers,

"We move into my apartment..."

"What? Mine's great-"

"Yunho, have you seen the window and the balcony on mine?"

"Your apartment it is boss."

3) @jaehunnyy

Choi San- Bestfriends to Lovers

Idiots, these two were complete idiots who were utterly in love with each other but were also too blind to realise that - why? Simple, because both feared that confessing to the other may ruin the long-held, deep bond.

A bond that had developed at the ripe age of childhood, middle school, to be more accurate. The day he had come to school, bored out of his mind, staring outside the window, wondering if he could jump on the closest tree to escape this prison. What he had not expected was an angel to come and sit beside him, well technically, the teacher had made her sit next to him, and he hadn't noticed her until she poked his shoulder lighter, causing him to jerk back and gasp, earning a few chuckles from the glass as the teacher just sighed in defeat.

"Wh-Hello."

"Do you need help with that?" She asked, pointing at the math equation in front of him. He looked at his notebook and remembered that's what they were supposed to me doing- damn that was a lot of daydreaming.

"Yeah, I guess...do you... know how to solve it?" He asked the new girl, too afraid to make eyecontact.

"Here, I'll show you." Turning to face him, she pulled his scribbled notebook closer.

"I'm San by the way."

That day onwards, a nice and quiet introvert at the back of the class finally began to crack open. From time to time, you'd hear him whispering to her, talking about some anime or a film. Often, he'd be telling her about his cat, Byeol, and how pretty she was. During break you wouldn't see San next to her for the first five minutes, no, he'd be sprinting across the campus,jumping down the stairs to go to the canteen to get her something to drink with her lunch, or a sweet snack, regardless of how many times she'd say 'it's fine.' During self study hours, she wouldn't be studying, no, she'd be busy tutoring her athletically gifted friend, he was...a little dumb, but that's okay, he was hardworking and she'd tell him she'd help him where he'd get stuck, explain and tutor where needed- especially in math.

As they grew older, he grew into his body, his self-esteem issues slowly subsiding, his feelings for her deepening, yet, never enough to tip the scale, at the bring of an edge but never enough to flow out he had to keep it all under control, because that's just how San was, patient and calm, he would never take a step if there was an ounce of the doubt when it came to how she felt about him. Though watching her spread her wings into the beauty she was, well, was somewhat problematic for him. Especially when she'd come to him, smiling like that, greeting him with the gentle voice of hers, asking him if he liked her haircut.

"What do you think?"

"It's...very nice."

"Just very nice?"

"You'd look pretty to me even if you were bald."

Conversations like these would have her heart hammering against her ribcage, and she'd pray to God that he couldn't hear it. She'd pray for it when he'd be walking home side by side, his shoulder bumping into hers, or his hand brushing against hers, when he'd take her bag from her, clicking his tongue at how heavy it would be,

"You trynna' build muscles like me?" He'd ask, though he was still very fragile, he'd only started going to the gym when he noticed how the 'basketball team captain', had decided to ask her to 'help tutor him too', though she had politely declined.

"Hmm? Of course not, Advanced Math books are just big like that..."

"Why do you do this to yourself, dove?" A nickname she had gained over the time, one used only by him.

"Because I wanna teach one day, I love teaching, I want to make sure people realise subjects aren't difficult or they aren't dumb, it's just that they're not taught properly."

Yup, he was smitten, on his knees, begging for her please ( he was also an idiot).

Ended up in college with her, though in a different major, like hell the now 'mountain of a man', no longer the kitten-like fragile boy, was going to major in math- business was a way better option.

This wasn't a bad situation, though they rarely had a few classes together, she'd still make time to see him, to text him as soon as class would end, but he'd already be standing at the exit, waiting for her with a coffee in hand and a dimpled smile, reserved just for her.

In no means was Choi San an extrovert, but somehow along the line he had met one, who later claimed that his MBTI had changed to an introvert too, though he doubted that notion- Jung Wooyoung.

Boistorous, noisy, obnoxious but a genuinely nice person at heart, Wooyoung was his companion in his major's classes, he was also the first person to know about San's little secret, since San trusted him enough to know, though Wooyoung assured him he had figured it out as soon as San introduced him to her as his "bestfriend".

"You're an idiot." Wooyoung snorted, taking off his shoes as he walked into the 4th years tiny apartment.

"What? Why?"

"You really think I didn't know?"

"How did you kno-'

"You can be bestfriends with a girl since childhood, unless a) one of you confessed to the other and got friendzoned but still chose friendship or b) neither of you confessed but are secretly crushing over the other."

"Wow, should've been a psychologist instead of a business major."

"What can I say, Sannie? I am a man of many talents."

Things progressed like this for a long time, Wooyoung watched from the sidelines how the two would basically act like a couple that was not a couple- almost everyone at campus thought they were a couple and Wooyoung was basically the third wheel. Not that he minded, and San appreciated him for that, he was glad Wooyoung's relationship with his dove was platonic- borderline sibling-like.

But Choi San was a fool, one that Choi San, at the fresh age of 25 wished that perhaps he'd be able to take the next steps, but something at the back of his mind held him back, were his personal desires as important as this friendship?

Which is why he stood there watching his best friend get ready for her date, her date with Wooyoung. After a conversation he did not like, but what could he say? He was too afraid to even confess, and well, Wooyoung wasn't a bad guy, and technically, he was his friend.

"I'm gonna ask her out, Sannie." The brunnet sighed, before taking a sip of his coffee, humming at the bitterness, perhaps this bitterness was sweeter than the bitter taste that had developed in San's mouth at the statement.

"W-why?" The bigger man with the fragile heart whispered.

"Because...I like her...I'm sorry but...I gave you time, so much of it and...I just wanted you to be the first one to know...if she says no, we'll all still be friends, but if she says yes...San, I won't hold back."

That had led to her first anniversary with Wooyoung, then the second and finally a day before their third anniversary San had texted the couple how he wouldn't be able to make it to their anniversary party because he had work that day and he wished them the best.

What he did not expect was someone knocking on his door at 2 am, opening the door to find a tear stained Wooyoung, only for him to punch the taller man in the face, watching him stumble backwards then wipe his eyes and sigh, "I swear- if you weren't such a great guy, I would've stabbed you."

"What the F*CK WOOYOUNG?"

That night was the first time he had seen Wooyoung cry, cry about how when she read the message she had become a mess, one that even Wooyoung couldn't fix, begging him for forgiveness how she made a mistake, how even though she was happy with Wooyoung, her heart belonged to someone else, someone who she thought she could move on from since he never confessed, since he never liked her back the way she did, and though the text was a confirmation of that, she couldn't bear lying to Wooyoung, to give him only half the love of what he deserved, knowing he deserved someone who would teach him the true meaning of love, because she was a teacher with only one student in mind, the idiot of a man- Choi San.

That night San couldn't sleep, not a wink, he processed the words over and over again, so did she like him? Should he confess to her? Now? Wouldn't that make it awkward? Or should he wait? Would that be a mistake?

Though his questions were answered in the morning when the doorbell rang at 7 am, making the sleepy man sigh as he stumbled to the door with blurry eyes, opening it still half asleep, only the slap he received woke sobered him up quickly,

"OW- WH- WHY ARE YOU JUST LIKE WOOYOUNG!?"

"SHUT UP! DONT TAKE HIS NAME! I HURT HIM BECAUSE OF YOU!" Never in the many years of knowing her, had she raised her voice like that.

"I-"

"NO! LISTEN TO ME!" She yelled before shoving him inside so she could continue yelling inside, "I like you- and you- you d*ck you could tell him you liked me but you couldn't tell me!? All those horrible dates you watched me go to, but you couldn't stop me?! You knew you liked me yet you let Woo ask me out!?"

"I- I didn't wanna ruin what we had..."

"San, I- what if I had married Woo? Huh? Then what? When you already had half my heart, I-"

She couldn't finish her sentence though, because the next thing she knew, he was smothering her with all that pent up love, his lips pressing against hers with a ferocity she had ever seen in her gentle Sannie, wanting to claim what he was too scared to touch before.

He only pulled back when she lightly pushed him back, gasping for air, looking up at him all flushed and pink, her swollen lips just enticing him even more,

"W-what was that?" She breathed out.

"Never say you're marrying anyone but me, I would've ruined the wedding even if it meant being thrown out."

"You're an idiot Sannie."

"No, I just had a teacher who could teach me math, but couldn't teach me how to love properly - guess she was learning too."

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hairmetal666 · 1 month

Text

At 16, Steve Harrington was everything Eddie accused him of being: spoiled, vapid, cruel, lazy, his entire life handed to him on a silver platter. He was the golden boy, the perfect son, the heir to the fortune, and he lived up to every expectation. Athletic, beautiful, charming—and sure, he didn’t get the best grades, but those, like anything, could be bought.

It was a privileged life, everyone said. But they didn’t stick around for the lonely nights by himself in that big house, or the weekends that slipped into weeks with no one around to care what Steve did or who he did it with. His parents were busy people. He understood. His mom always made it up to him when they came back to town, or at least she made the effort before he hit high school.

Steve found other ways to fill the silence. Packing the house with the basketball team and the swim team and the baseball team. Throwing ragers that no one ever called the cops about. His parents didn’t even mention it when they came home to the house a wreck, priceless antiques broken and shattered. He fucked wherever he pleased, hoping that his parents would come home and catch him on the pool table with his latest conquest.

His life of no consequences changed overnight the summer between his sophomore and junior year, the night of his mother’s annual mid-summer party.

Forever is the Sweetest Con Chapter 5, out now!

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #forever is the sweetest con #ao3 fic #con man au #rivals to lovers #found family #robin buckley #jim hopper #eleven stranger things

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curiositydooropened · 9 months

Text

Wildfire • Pyre

Reunions with old friends leads to more information about Vickie's death. You and Steve seem to be growing closer, falling back into old roles. But something dark lingers in the recesses of your mind.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Chapter Wordcount: 8,528

Warnings: enemies/rivals to lovers, second chance romance, slooooowburn, unrequited love, so much pining, blood, gore, character death, best friend!disabled!Eddie Munson, character injuries, trauma, PTSD, hallucinations, drowning, concussion, hurt/comfort, fire, panic attacks, insomnia

Fic Masterlist • Navigation • Masterlist

Chapter Three: Ignite • Chapter Five: Searing

---

NOW

September 1988

Everything Rightside Up existed in saturation. Blue skies were blue. The red-oranges of fallen leaves were ruddy and neon. Green leaves of canned spinach were mossy and vibrant. Even the stark whites were brighter, cornea-burningly so.

Your mouth felt dry as you approached the Med Bay, sneakers squeaking on linoleum beside the steady rhythm of Eddie’s shoes matched with the creak of his walker. His hair and eyes were painted in rich chocolates today, his skin almost as blinding as the walls that surrounded you.

“I think you’re doing a good thing,” he reassured, raising the fingers on one hand to twinkle a wave at Sandra, the beautiful girl behind the counter who buzzed you in. Disinfectant stung in your nostrils.

“I think I’m doing a neutral thing,” you argued, holding the door open for him to pass through. “He doesn’t want to see me. He probably isn’t even awake yet. Maybe he’s a vegetable.”

“Henderson said he flipped him off yesterday,” Munson grinned. “He’s fine, and he does want to see you.”

“Henderson?” You frowned, taking a step backwards from the threshold whence you came, thumbing to a different section of the building, far away from the people in lab coats and the looming threat that lay ahead. “Oh, I better go check in with him then.”

Eddie caught your wrist and propelled you back toward him. “You saved Harrington’s life. I would kill for an opportunity like that. You get to lord it over him forever now.”

You sighed, faked a smile, tried not ignore the pit in your stomach, tried to forget the sting of ash and decay as you stripped yourself of your pack and ducked beside the brick fireplace, the only part of that little house that remained standing.

You’d called out for Steve, again and again, panic stinging your lungs just as it had when you’d lost Vickie. Then the adrenaline kicked in, her voice and his, Steve’s, echoing instructions in your mind. Lift here, tug there. Your squats had come in handy. You walkied back to base, got an emergency evac vehicle.

When you found Harrington, he was unconscious, face caked in ash, blood pooling somewhere beneath him. He was lucky he’d been in the stairwell and not any higher. A millisecond sooner, and he’d have been crushed by a toilet, a vanity, a king-sized bed. You cleared the rubble, checked him for major breakages, and hoisted him onto your back. He was so heavy.

“Just go in and tell him to say ‘thank you’ or you’ll pull the plug.” Eddie was shoving you through another door, but you noticed he hadn’t hurried to follow.

“Aren’t you coming with me?” You hissed, offering a nervous smile to a nearby man in mint scrubs.

“Nope,” your best friend grinned. “Got me a receptionist to flirt with.” He tousled his curls and leaned casually against a long countertop.

Sandra appeared just over his shoulder, a sweet smile on her round face. “Two doors down,” she gestured.

With clenched fists, you inched ahead as instructed. You were sweating. You didn’t even know what you were going to say. You just wanted to see if he looked small, if his hair still coifed perfectly against cotton sheets, if his mouth would turn up at the corners when he saw you.

Your fingertips pressed to the door, and you heard laughing inside, a rasped voice. Your heart sank, stomach rolled. You glanced sideways into an open window and saw dirty blonde and freckles, and you turned heel for the start of the hallway.

Eddie stood on the other side of a closed door, waggling his fingertips, too-mischievous a smile playing across cat-like features.

Then, she said your name.

Robin Buckley stood ten feet away. She was dressed in civies, hair crimped and vest buttoned, and her sweet, freckled cheeks were pinched pink to compliment the sad sea of blue in her eyes. Her hand was raised in a greeting, the other arm wrapped around her ribcage, a shield, a nervous stance.

You swallowed, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. But some other force was pushing you forward, one step at a time to split the distance.

Her arms were around you in seconds, spindly, soft, and she smelled exactly as you always remembered: vanilla and patchouli, weed. She was warm, a bit of home you hadn’t had in months, hadn’t deserved. You didn’t deserve her.

You pulled away, swallowing the lump in your throat, blinking away any emotional that threatened. “I was just coming to visit uh…” You gestured inwards, at a boy in too big a bed, brow crinkled, hair a riot against stark white linens. His eyes were squeezed shut, jaw clenched.

“Oh yeah we were just,” she rasped, graveled voice sweet as honey. She gestured inward and paused before you watched her own eyebrow quirk. “Sleeping. He just fell asleep.”

You settled on, “oh, good.” You didn’t feel right in your body, didn’t feel present, didn’t feel necessary. You’d interrupted a moment. You were an intruder.

“Lucky for you,” Robin crossed to Steve’s bedside and grabbed her bag, tossing it over one shoulder, “I’m starving. Shall we go get some lunch?”

You blinked at the invitation, the white walls closing in. She stared expectantly, soft blues and tans. “Oh, one of us should probably stay with…” You gestured once more toward the boy. The frown hadn’t left his face, though now it felt more of a grimace. You wondered if he might be in pain.

“He’s fine,” Robin insisted, and you felt slender fingers jostle your shoulder. “Come on. Looks like you could use to get out of this Hell hole.”

You turned to look at Steve one last time, as you were herded along the corridor and back to reception, and his face had settled to one of peace.

—

She drove you miles out of town, somewhere south, where a dry dirt road met a diner with a view of the lake. Ducks gathered at the banks and a child cried in a mother’s arms, and the sweet smell of maple syrup flooded your senses with some otherworldly nostalgia that ached in your molars and ribcage.

She chatted the whole way there, as Robin was apt to do, a mess of words about life and her parents and foregoing university for community outreach, and you clutched the belt at your chest like it were a life vest.

She ordered a club sandwich with fries, and promised to share when you ordered a salad, not sure you could keep anything down. Not with the world on its axis like this, not with her cherry-stained smile as if nothing was wrong, as if this threesome wasn’t missing it’s essential party.

“Thanks so much,” she smiled at the woman setting drinks down between you. The same red plastic cups you found in the Mess Hall made you feel like you were trapped in a simulation, some sort of sick joke.

Robin stirred the ice in her soft drink with a red-and-white striped straw, and you watched the bubbles fizz through dark liquid to burst at the top. “Before I force you to tell me what the Hell is going on with you and Steve, I have to tell you something.”

You blinked back at her, the water in front of you unappetizing despite the dryness of your mouth.

There was something uncanny about the way she spoke, too chipper, too soft, but you noticed she was avoiding your gaze, staring instead at the rings she wound around her fingers. Her nails were chipped in navy blues. “And I know you’re going to argue with me, because that’s who you are, and I’m not going to engage with that because this is honestly just my truth, you know? And I’ve spent a long time thinking about this, so I know how I feel.”

“Robin,” you cut-off her anxious rambling, an auto-response you’d built over the last couple of years, muscle memory.

Her mouth closed, and you watched the tick of her jaw, sunlight pouring in to cast her in honey and warmth. She was a thing of beauty, and to watch the wobble in her bottom lip as she clamped down it drew the breath from you.

You sat in silence, wringing the paper napkin in your lap while she chipped more fervently at the blue polish, bits of it scattered across a coffee-stained tabletop.

“I’m mad at you,” she finally came out with it, and the quaver in her voice punched you right in the stomach. Her eyes shone, harsh, dark. “I’m so fucking mad at you, and it’s so frustrating because it’s not even your fault, not really.”

You swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall, the ache that clawed your inside with sharp talons and flower-faced teeth.

“It’s not your fault she was flayed. It’s not your fault she had no other choice. It’s not your fault you didn’t have a choice, but none of that is what I’m mad about anyway,” she continued to ramble, twisting the rings around her fingers. “I’m mad that you left me. You just ditched me, and I understand you’re hurting, and I’m so sorry for that, but did you think for like half-a-second that I’m hurting too? And all I needed for the past three months was my best friend? You left me alone with Steve, for Christ’s sake. Steve! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love him with all of my heart, but he’s not good with things like this. He’s getting better, but he doesn’t know her like you do, and sometimes I just need to talk about her and -”

“Robin,” you stopped her again, your breathing matching hers in speed, heart racing, lungs strained against your ribcage.

Her mouth slammed shut, and her fingers went to her ears like a petulant child. “I’m not going to hear anything you have to say unless its an apology.”

Your mouth hung open at that, processing her emotions, your own. A bell caught on the breeze, the softest of sounds, and then it felt like fingers carded through your hair, a hand to your shoulder, warmth, comfort, light. You released a sigh, “Robin, I’m so so sorry.”

The corners of her lips turned up, and she rolled her eyes, reaching for the red plastic up. “I forgive you, obviously. Idiot.” She toed at your knee with the rubber toe of her shoe while she drank, and you both laughed off the emotion prickling in your eyes.

You picked up your own water with a trembling hand and downed the ice cold liquid, letting it dampen the swell in your throat and chest.

“Now that that’s settled, please tell me what the hell is going on between you and Dingus. The boy tells me nothing.”

—

As the heat of summer fell away into fall, the sun went with it. You awoke in darkness, struggled to pull yourself out of bed after restless sleep. Daylight faded from the farmland too quickly, a mask of yellowed orange that covered naked branches that twisted up through browning leaves. It was cold and dark and reminded you of that place, an unfriendly reminder that loomed over your shoulder as you ran, lap after lap around a track.

Three days after your lunch with Robin, you’d managed to peel yourself from sweat-drenched sheets to run off the dread that settled from a nightmare. You’d run with a friendly tune in your head, tainted ominous by each thump of footfall against the track, eery by the humming under your breath against the water pressure from the shower, your own voice echoing off tile walls.

The sun was just coming up by the time you entered the dormitory corridor, dim warmth that seeped from sitting quarters and splashed across heavy steel doors.

You scrubbed excess water from your ear with the towel draped over your shoulders and rounded the last corner, halting when you saw shadow framing your door. Tall, with broad shoulders, hand-raised in a knock.

You sidestepped, tilted your head to get a better look, and nearly screeched to a halt when you reached an angle that let the light shine in.

Steve Harrington waited for you to answer your door, jaw clenched, sporting short hair. It had been buzzed around his neck and ears, but remained long on top, parted down the center in adverse to his signature coif, a mess of brown that he tousled in one hand.

You blinked back at him, taking in his stance, tight and uncomfortable, before it all sunk in.

He was awake. He was standing. He suffered no broken bones, only a concussion and several bumps and bruises, so you shouldn’t have been surprised. He was waiting at your door.

“Shit,” you snapped yourself out of it and crossed to him.

He startled and spun on his heel to face you, eyes alight with surprise. He looked good like this, more adult. Maybe that was the official nature of his stance, or the stack of documents he held under one arm. “Um… hi.” He greeted, scratching at the back of his neck. You wondered if he missed the locks back there that were so easy to sink your fingers into.

You swallowed, blinked back at him. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” He asked, extending a hand your direction, although the look on his face was less comforting than perturbed.

“Your hair,” you gestured, biting back a sarcastic smile aching at your cheeks. “Are you okay?”

That famous Harrington eye roll greeted you, and he shifted to expose the stack of manila envelopes under his arm, wrapping his knuckles against the top. “I brought you something to look at. Could we uh…?” He nodded the closed door to your room.

“Oh, shit, yeah,” you shuffled with the key in your pocket, the little brass thing tethered to a decade old friendship bracelet that had long since fallen off Vickie’s wrist.

Harrington stepped out of your way, and you fumbled with the lock until the door popped open to reveal a mess of dirty laundry and dishes strewn about. You cursed under your breath and scurried to kick things into their appropriate corners. You winced at the crash of plates in your sink, and scurried to the bed to pull the duvet up and over two scrunched pillows.

Harrington set his haul on your rickety table.

When you’d finished your tidy, you turned to face him, a bit flustered, but you hadn’t anticipated catching him in the act of sizing up his own reflection in the mirror. He frowned, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to flatten the sheer volume peaking the fringe pieces.

“It looks good,” you offered, delighted when he jumped at the sound of your voice, hand snapping back to his side.

“They um… they had to do it for the stitches.” He gestured to the back of his head.

Following the curvature of his skull on the left side were ten tiny stitches, black thread holding his flesh together where there’d been a gaping wound. You’d wrapped something around him to stop the bleeding, your shirt, maybe. You couldn’t remember much from that horrible morning, only the aches of your muscles as the exhaustion willed you to sleep on a cot in the Med Bay that first night you’d been asked to quarantine.

“How’re you feeling?” You asked.

Harrington nodded. He watched his own fingers dance along the tabletop. “Good. Nothing broken. They released me about an hour ago.” He glanced up at you, a shadow cast from the bridge of his nose as morning light began to seep in from frosted windows.

“Good,” you managed a soft smile, hoped he could feel the relief that relaxed your shoulders.

“Hey, um…” He scratched at that stubble on the base of his neck once more. “Thank you for uh… saving my ass.” His eyes found yours, humble and honest.

You took a few steps forward and hesitated to reach for his arm until he put his hand out to catch yours. You gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “Guess those squats were worth it after all.”

You bit back another smile, stomach swooping as one again his eyes rolled back into his head. You released his hand and swatted at his stomach before pulling out a chair at your little rickety table to seat yourself at. “You need to lay off the brisket, big boy. I nearly threw my back out.”

“You need to quit hanging out with Munson,” Harrington slid into the seat next to you, spinning the stack of files your direction. “You’re staring to sound just like him.”

You cocked a brow. “You threw Munson’s back out?”

Watching him fight back sass tickled you more than you thought it might, the same relief you felt pulling Robin into a hug after your day out together. It felt like your axis was righting itself, like maybe your world was staring to feel a little less Upside Down.

Harrington tapped two fingers to the top of the pile in front of you. “Erica stole these for me. If anyone finds out, we’re screwed. And we owe her our dessert cards for the next two months.”

You snorted and flipped open the soft manila folder to find the face of a bright-eyed girl with red hair and freckles. Her jaw had been tightened, eyes a little wild, determined, and God, she’d been so young. Instinctively, your fingertips trailed the glossy coating of the photograph, and you wished you could feel the softness of her skin, smell her mom’s detergent on her clothes. You wished you could wrap her into your arms, like you’d done with Robin, and make her laugh, Hell, make her roll her eyes like you did with Steve.

“These are her files, anything Erica could get her hands on. I peeked through them, but I didn’t want to get too far in without you.” Steve said, voice achingly soft beside you. “They’re in chronological order. Psych eval, medical tests.”

You thumbed through the first few pages, her enlistment form. Perfectly typewritten was every historical accuracy about your best friend. Her full name, the street she grew up on, her blood type. And after a few pages, you’d come across a picture of yourself, your information labeled under PARTNER.

“If anything’s too hard to get through, let me know.” Your new partner leaned forward on his forearms, staring at your upside down photograph, his hair falling into his eyes.

You swallowed, nodded, and turned another page.

—

Hours had gone by, you weren’t sure how long, but the warm light cast upon Steve’s face suggested it was mid-afternoon, broaching evening. You’d learned much about your best friend and at the same time nothing at all. You’d choked upon all of the times she defended you, or told a higher up how wonderful you were, how worthy, how competent. Never once were you disparaged. Never once had she fought or fallen out of line.

You wondered if you should have started at the bottom of the pile, worked your way back to the moment she’d been flayed, but when you’d mentioned, Steve halted your wrist and told you he’d take the bottom half. You thought to argue, to protest, but the look in his eye was soft, not scolding, and the grip on your wrist was loose.

You caught yourself watching him work, both of your voices hoarse from passages read aloud. When he concentrated, his brow crinkled, and the tip of his tongue stuck to the corners of his lips. You’d caught him, on several occasions, harrumphing over hair fallen into his eyes that couldn’t be tossed back like it used to.

Now, as you glanced up from another mission log transcription, you saw the wave of warmth fan his features, and immediately he winced at the glare, fingers rubbing at bloodshot eyes.

“Are you okay?” You asked, alarmed at the grit of his teeth.

“Yeah, just um…” He squinted your direction. “Eye strain, I think. I should have been wearing my glasses.”

You leapt up, if for no other reason than you cover him with your shadow, the frosted glass above your bed lacking curtains. “The concussion probably doesn’t help. Let’s take a break.”

He emitted a soft groan and rubbed at his eyes again, pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefingers. “You’re probably right. Is that okay?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself and glanced down at the heft of his pile still remaining, hidden pages calling out to you. “Yeah, totally. It’s all kind of blurring together at this point anyway.”

“Yeah, right,” he inched his way up and out of his chair, retrieving a sweatshirt he’d shed toward early afternoon off the back of his chair and stuffing his head into it. He’d unintentionally crowded your space, all limbs, and he smelled clean and a little sterile.

Somewhere in his reflection, a flash of orange caught your eye. You glanced sideways at the dingy mirror, the expanse of his back, the stitched scar at the base of his skull.

“Do me a favor?” He muttered, running his fingers through his hair for the dozenth time.

You hummed and tore your gaze from the mirror image.

“Don’t look at that stuff without me.”

The piles sat between you, typewritten notes on stark white pages that beckoned. You glanced downward and caught your name, a conversation with Owens post-mission. Just a handful of pages beneath that was the log you knew you were looking for, maybe images taken post-mortem, maybe a death certificate.

“We just don’t know what it could kick up. What if it triggers something?” Harrington wrapped his knuckles against the tabletop, recapturing your attention.

You swallowed, eyes a little glassy from exhaustion, and nodded. “Sure, yeah. You want to take them with you?”

He shook his head, shrugged. “I trust you.” He turned and clicked open the door. The hallway beyond was quiet, dark save the glow of a red EXIT sign. Before he left, he turned to offer a squinted smile, the faintest upturn of his pink lips. “You going to be alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you reassured. Something had shifted, crashed apart with the stairs of that house. Moments that bond often have this affect on relationships, you’d discovered that much over the past few years.

Steve nodded and left, door closing softly behind him.

As he did so, the papers on the tabletop fluttered closer to you, an unseen force shifting things back into your line of sight. A label slipped out of the bottom stack, and typed in careful letters you read the word ‘FLAYED’.

—

You left in a hurry, shoving all of your dirty clothes into a basket to haul downstairs. You took a turn on the track as your pants dried. You avoided your room like something had begun to grow in the walls, a pitch black ooze that spread with every footstep.

You couldn’t be there, couldn’t read it, and yet every inch of you itched to know the truth, to get answers.

When you’d exhausted most avenues of distraction, you finally found yourself in the corridor just south of the Caf. Moonlight pooled in through windows along the hall, casting everything in sterile whites and soft greys. Your stomach rumble was louder than each footstep. The kitchen staff had locked the pantries to maintain rations, but this wasn’t your first excursion sneaking in for a midnight snack.

Your laundry basket released from your hands and fell with a thwack to the linoleum before you elbowed through one of the swinging double doors, port hole window catching your reflection in the moonlight. The kitchen was otherwise pitch black, and you hadn’t needed a flashlight for the laundry room.

Taking careful steps in the darkness, you narrowly avoided a butcher’s block, but smacked your hip bone against a wide, metal stove. Pots and pans clattered above you, and you scrambled to keep them afloat, cursing yourself for definitely waking anyone sleeping at least five floors up.

“Hello?” The seam to the walk-in split open, and you were suddenly blinded in a thick beam of warm light.

You held your hands up to shield your eyes, and when you heard your name, you peered into the darkness to make out the broad-shouldered silhouette of your new partner. “Harrington?”

He tilted the torchlight from your vision, and you saw he had a baseball bat over his other shoulder, of which nail spikes were sparkling from the end. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.” He grumbled, turning back into the refrigerator as though this was a perfectly normal occasion.

“What the Hell?” You sighed and followed him. “What’re you doing down here?”

He shrugged, spinning the flashlight in his hand to give you the handle. Then, he pulled a three gallon tub of ice cream off a nearby shelf and hoisted it under his arm. “What does it look like I’m doing down here?”

He pushed past you in a fog of steamed breath, and you followed before the door slammed shut. He dropped the tub onto a countertop with a hollow thud and the bat scraped along the ground as he propped it next.

You watched him search a couple of drawers for two spoons, illuminating his path back to you.

“I haven’t had ice cream in like three years,” he explained, taking the flashlight from you to prop on a windowsill near him. Reflected light illuminated the hollows of his cheeks, the bags under his eyes. “But I’ve had this crazy hankering since that house fell on me.”

You snorted and hoisted yourself onto the countertop beside him, ice from the tub melting against your bare leg. “Why the aversion to ice cream?”

Steve sighed, peeling the lid from the top and handing you a spoon before diving in himself. “When you spend half a summer slinging cones and banana splits, the smell of it gets a little sickening.”

You’d almost forgotten, memories of Starcourt Mall feeling like another lifetime. Vickie and you had gone every weekend after it opened, delighting in the comfortable seating at the movie theatre and spending far too many hours pouring over albums at the music store. She’d insist on scoops from Scoops just before you left, and you’d initially thought she was fawning over the sailor boy, with his voluminous, highlighted hair, his doe eyes, his glossy lips. Turns out, she wanted to gawk at her pep band compatriot, the pretty, awkward girl with band-aids on her knees.

You watched over the tub as he took his bite in shadow, eyelashes fanning his cheeks, brows furrowed against the cold. “How is it?” You smiled, reaching in near to your elbow to take a scoop for yourself. There was no way to tell what flavor it was at this point, but knowing the quality of food at the caf, you had a feeling your options were limited to chocolate or vanilla.

“It’s no SS Butterscotch,” but he went back in, spoon clanging against your own. “What’re you doing down here?”

You shrugged, spooned frigid cream into your mouth. You winced at the cold, but the sweet vanilla cream melted against your taste buds, and you sighed, leaning against the wall behind you. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Did you read any more of Vickie’s file?” He winced around the cold, brought his fist up to cover a cough.

You frowned back at him. “You told me not to.”

His eyebrows raised at that, and he shrugged, shoveling himself another spoonful. “I didn’t think you’d listen. I use that tactic with the kids.”

“Hey, fuck you,” you growled, mouthful.

In the silhouette, you swear you caught a smirk flash across boyish features. “So… I heard you talked to Robin.”

You hummed, the chill from your ice cream and the metal countertop creating a small shiver. You shifted your thighs, unsticking them from the surface, and tugged down on your shorts. “Yeah, we had a really nice lunch the other day.”

He avoided eye contact, licking his spoon clean.

Over French fries, your heartfelt apologies turned to chatter, the two of you falling back into old rhythms, humming old ear worms and gossiping. Robin vented about the try-hard team lead in her gardening society, and you, with matched eye rolls, vented about Steve’s overbearing demeanor when it came to the mats, the pool, the turf. Robin ensured you he was like that in the beginning, and that he’s just protective. You couldn’t help but feel the fizz of your stomach when she mentioned he cared about you.

You wondered how much she’d shared. “I uh… I apologized for going AWOL.” You spun your spoon between your fingers, the cool metal glinting in dim light.

“Why did you,” he asked after a long moment, voice cutting the stillness in the air, “go AWOL?”

You glanced up at him again, and this time he was watching you, eyes hooded in shadow, but the glint of them traced your features. You swallowed and looked away, stared instead at his silhouette on the adjacent wall, the curve of a strong brow and nose and jaw, the dip of his throat.

You struggled for words, feeling the heat of him staring you down, but finally you settled on an explanation that felt right. “Because I’m a coward, and because I didn’t feel I deserved her friendship, not after all of the heartache I caused. Still don’t.”

He didn’t respond, and you sat in silence for a long while until you felt brave enough to look at him again. His shoulders were slumped, and his lips were parted as if he were going to ask something else.

Terrified he might spill some truth that you weren’t ready for, you spilled out a question that had been lingering for months, a year. “What did I do to make you hate me?” The words felt sticky, your throat coated with vanilla ice cream and regret.

His jaw slammed shut, eyes tracking yours once more.

“We used to be…” Bets placed on the Scorch field, the sparring mats, shot-for-shot from the whisky glass snuck out of Hopper’s office desk drawer, truth or dare whispered while Robin and Vickie slept in an adjacent bed, the exchange of steamed breath watching the stars, nose-to-nose, the flutter of lashes. “Friends. Then we were all up for Scorch Leads, and you just… went AWOL.”

You picked at the rolled paper lip of the ice cream tub, focusing on that spot instead of the eyes watching you. “Is my competitiveness really that annoying?”

“Yes,” he said, snapping your attention back to his mouth, and the corners had curled every so slightly.

You warmed, rolled your eyes.

He scratched at the stubble on the back of his neck, rolled his shoulders. “You want to know why I was such an asshole when we were up for that promotion?”

You nodded. Another shiver wracked through you, and you realized you’d been leaning against the tub.

Steve sighed, picked the lid off the counter beside you and replaced it, the top puffing with air when it was sealed. “Remember that first mission? When they dumped us in the middle of nowhere and we had to find our way back? And you and Vickie took twice as long as everyone else?”

“It was not twice as long,” you rolled your eyes. It took you so long because you had to be thorough, you had to prove yourself, no one wanted it more than you. When you’d heard about Team Lead promotions, it was the first time in years you felt like your existence was made for something. Your expertise paid off.

Your new partner lifted the tub and carried it back across the room to the walk-in, catching the swing of the door with his shoe.

You hopped off the countertop and tossed metal spoons into a massive metal sink. They clanged near the drain.

Steve’s voice was muffled from inside the freezer. “Robin and I waited at the Gate for you. She wore a hole in the pavement pacing, and I sat with my back to a big tree and realized I’d do whatever it took to win, or at least to make sure you guys didn’t.” He returned with a banana, which he placed into your palm before going for his bat and flashlight.

“What’s this for?” You held up the fruit, cold to the touch and followed him out the swinging double doors.

“Potassium’s good for muscles, and it helps your body process calcium.” He said, like a info doc on the Public Broadcasting Station.

You sighed and tossed it to the top of your laundry pile before hoisting the basket back under your arm. “Wait, are you saying you thought Vickie and I wouldn’t make good leads?”

“No,” he swung the bat over one shoulder, beam of light illuminating your joint path upward. “I’m saying that by becoming leads, there’d be a higher chance of you being in danger. All I ever wanted was to keep you safe.”

You tried not to lose pace with him, feet fumbling, stomach swooping, and you glanced up at him through your eyelashes. You couldn’t make out his features in the dark, but you felt him watching you, felt the brush of his bicep against yours.

“Eat your banana,” he said, and you continued up the stairs in soft, surrendered silence.

—

The yard was clean, grass long-since browned, and leaves swept into a large pile. The cars in the driveway didn’t belong to her parents, no, these were new. In fact, the entire home didn’t feel like home to you anymore, not like it used to. A porch swing creaked on the wind, stark white paint cracked and cushion oozing ichor from a rainstorm long since past.

You heard a scuffle from the garage, swung right, calling out for her, searching a greyscale landscape for a shock of orange. You took a step forward, tripped over an unwound garden hose.

“She can’t come to the phone right now,” she said, only it wasn’t her, wasn’t her voice, something deeper.

You looked up, but when you tried to scream her name again, a hand was covering your mouth, a strong arm lifting you backwards, away from the scene. Your friend lay, lifeless before you, skin melting into the concrete driveway like plastic. You screamed, kicked, clawed, bit at the hand cutting off your airflow, to no relief.

Suffocating, drowning, the world around you blurring with blue lights, a face peering through the swell, that menacing grin, all teeth, no lips. You screamed, bubbles rising before your eyes. You kicked, vines tangled around your ankles, dragging you downward, darkness all-encompassing.

—

The fluorescents buzzed and the tape whirred in its recorder. That distant throb in your skull hadn’t receded in days. Your chair creaked with each bounce of your knee, an energy you’d picked up from your partner, and you rubbed at tired eyes, squinting across a large table. In a chair at the other end was the pitied frown of one Dr. Sam Owens.

“We did find a small laceration on her ankle, and her falling into this creature would account for that.” He explained. He was being gentle, as if you hadn’t snuck into the files, as if you hadn’t stared at the photographs of her lifeless corpse, as if you hadn’t seen the black liquid oozing from her skin.

You nodded, picking at a scratch in the tabletop.

“And you’re saying this virus had been gestating for a month before she showed any signs of being flayed?”

You shrugged, picked a little harder, until it bent your nail at the corner. “You’re the doctor. I’m just telling you what I remember.”

“Okay, alright, I appreciate that.” You heard the click of the tape deck, glanced up to find two fingers on the stop button. When you looked up, Owens had sat one leg on the tabletop. “How’re you doing, kid?”

A shiver wracked through you, some twisted all-knowing presence that had given you away. Maybe it was the squint of your eyes against the lights, maybe your nose had begun bleeding again, you couldn’t be sure at this point, couldn’t feel much for the buzz in your skull and fingertips.

“Do you understand why Hop and I picked you and Vickie as our team leaders?” He asked when you hadn’t responded, folding his hands over his lap. Crisp checked sleeves were rolled over the cuffs of a brown sweater. Everything about this man was soft and cleaned, so far removed from the grit and grime that surrounded your day-to-day. “It’s because you understood our mission here.”

You frowned, unsure where this unprompted speech was coming from, unsure what he was talking about, unsure how long you’d been in this room, how long you’d been awake, how long you could cling to the sliver of sanity holding you together.

“You understood that all of this,” he gestured to the room around you. Two massive windows looked out at the expanse of woods, everything tinged ruby red and honey yellow, that nightmare-fuel flash of orange. “This isn’t about redemption. It’s not about righting our wrongs, of which, we’re all guilty.”

His eyes were deep blue like the waters of a pool, but soft, careful. You thought of Vickie, of the mournful look on her face when she plead for you to snuff out her light. You thought of the lifeless corpse on a slab, photographed with naught but a sterile sheet maintaining her modesty.

“No, it’s about renewal. It’s about ridding this world of this festering sore, this virus, so it can learn and grow, so we can learn and grow and restart our lives. Not pick up where we left off, but pull ourselves up from the ashes and create something better.”

You blinked back at him, the wall in your mind, in your heart, fighting with his words. That competitive nature you’ve been biting back all week threatening to escape. Instead, you grit your teeth. “Anything else you need from me, Doc?”

Owens sighed, gave you that pitied look you’d received since Vickie died, since you killed her, since you gave up on her. He shook his head and gestured to walk you to the door. “Take care of yourself, kid.”

—

How could you build a new life without her when she was always home? How could you rise from the ashes of her funeral pyre when you lit the match?

—

The bass was low, a rattle in your bones arhythmic to your heart. You were hyper aware of your heartbeat, it having clambered against your skull for the past three days, maybe longer, you didn’t know anymore. Neon lights buzzed against newspaper clipping covered walls, all-encompassing, a tornado of information about Indiana’s State Fair and blue ribbons and reds and yellows and blues and greens.

A shove to your shoulder drew everything back into focus. Eddie’s brows were stitched together, jaw clamped shut. He was pissed. At you, specifically. He’d bullied you into joining the gang at Roadie’s tonight, blackmailed you, in fact. Now, here you stood, knocking back tequila to no lasting affect, receiving a pool stick from your teammate’s hand.

“We’re solids,” he instructed, nodding toward the felted green table.

“I got it,” you snapped.

The seven was lined up for an easy left pocket, and you sunk it before going after the three. The felt was soft under your finger tips, and the lamp heated up over your head, and something about the angle of your elbow nearly cleared someone’s beer from the lip of the table. They caught it, but your cue ball missed the three entirely, whiffing itself into a tailspin.

You cursed under your breath and stood back up into a full conversation you’d somehow missed, laughter and crinkled eyes. You frowned at Eddie, passing him back the stick.

“Argyle whistled at your ass, and you knocked his beer off the table,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re actually doing quite well for not being here.”

You glanced over his shoulder at Argyle, who held his hands, and a bottle, up in surrender, brown eyes wide. “Hey, man, please don’t kick my ass. I was just complimenting a beautiful woman.”

It took a second for his words to set in, for the blur of the roadhouse to dull, and when they finally clicked, you plastered on a smile and plucked the remainder of the boy’s beer from his hand. The liquid was room temperature at best, the glass coated in condensation.

Your group erupted in laughter.

Argyle was harmless, and only ever flattered, and you felt that if you were really present, if your laugh was genuine, things tonight might feel exactly as they had before.

“I’m getting waters,” Steve ran a hand through the new curtains of his hair and turned for the bar. Robin rubbed between his shoulder blades. Nancy knelt over the pool table, sinking thirteen, twelve, eleven. It was Jonathan’s turn to whistle, and she hip-checked him with a smug look on her face before sinking fifteen and nine.

“I’m so glad you came out,” Robin appeared at your side, warm and perfumed.

“Me too,” you smiled, avoiding the glares you were receiving from Eddie across the table. His incessant knocking pulled you out of bed, and he practically had to force you to put real clothes on.

“Quick, before Steve comes back, tell me a secret about him no one else would know.” Argyle grinned behind another bottle he’d scrounged up table side. He’d also extended a basket of fries to you.

You took one, a little soggy, and thought behind your hand as you chewed.

“Oh my God, he wears glasses at night like an old man.” Robin snickered.

Argyle gasped, the exact kind of scandal he was fishing for. “I bet he looks good in glasses.”

“He does,” Nancy confirmed from the table. Jonathan seemed less impressed at this revelation. “Eight ball middle pocket.” And with a sturdy clack, it went in.

Eddie cursed and peeled a couple of dollars from his wallet.

“We get winner!” Robin declared, nabbing the pool stick propped near Eddie’s walker.

“Aw man, I wish I had a partner,” Argyle lamented into his fries.

“No, you don’t,” Steve appeared, taking the neck of your bottle from your hand before replacing it with a plastic cup full of ice water.

You rolled your eyes, but sipped, the frigid water a nice wash against the buzzing under your skin. His warmth beside you was welcoming too, the smell of his cologne.

“Sure I do. You get to learn all kinds of things no one else would know. Come on, tell me something about her.”

Your heart sank under Steve’s gaze. You had one big secret, one looming bad guy that only Steve and Eddie knew about. None of you had told Robin. None of you could tell Robin. You tried not to focus now, tried to keep the nightmares at bay.

“She’s a terrible swimmer,” he settled on. “Like one of the worst I’ve ever taught, and I used to teach toddlers… and Robin.”

“Fuck off, Harrington,” Robin cackled, breaking the rack with an immense thwack. “You are just the world’s worst helicopter mom.”

“I’d back off if you could walk up a set of stairs without tripping,” he snapped back.

“Says the guy who had an entire staircase fall under his weight,” you commented.

Everyone laughed. You even felt the rumble of Steve’s chest against your bicep, that warmth slowly thawing the freeze.

“Jonathan, what do you guys think? Having a partner all it’s cracked up to be?” Argyle mused to his best friend.

Jonathan sunk the first ball of the game and shrugged. “It’s nice when someone has your back. Nance can get a little bossy though…”

Nancy rolled her eyes and took a long swig of her beer. She wiped the corners of her mouth as she swallowed and said, “Jonathan hums, constantly. No matter what we’re doing, he’s humming.”

Just as she said it, he stopped the tapping of his hands to his thigh, and you all pointed in glee at the discovery.

“Hey, nothing wrong with a man with rhythm,” Eddie grinned, slapping a high-five to his friend.

“God, Vickie does that too,” you chimed in, enjoying the camaraderie you’d been missing for so long. “She just gets these like ear worms and she has to sing them. Drives me up a wall.”

You hadn’t realized what you’d said until Steve stiffened beside you, until you made eye contact with a sad smile from Eddie. Your blood ran cold.

“Oh my God, I know! She was constantly getting things stuck in my head,” Robin pitched in to help you recover, but you noticed the waver in her voice, and it crushed your insides a little harder.

“My go?” Steve cleared his throat, stepping forward to take the stick from her hands. You noticed she’d been wringing it. You felt sick.

When Steve bent to strike another ball, Eddie whistled, and the tension was quickly diffused with another round of laughter. Everyone began to chatter again, but the noise had faded under the dull thrum of bass and the buzz of neon, and the ice cold terror that lingered there between your shoulder blades.

You muttered an excuse for the bathroom, but walked straight out the double doors and into the cold autumn air.

—

This time of night felt like being there, in the Ether. Sun set, everything went to grayscale save the sign attracting moths overhead. The red cast over the gravel parking lot, shimmering off chrome tailpipes and the hood of Harrington’s car. That same lingering damp clung to the air, steaming your breath, chattering your teeth, and you propped yourself against a corrugated tin wall. It smelled of iron and cigarette smoke, and your tongue tasted of tequila and regret.

Your head spun, eyes ached and dry with exhaustion. No sleep felt easier than sleep these days, but you noticed each came with a price. Your muscles twitched, like a shiver, but incessant. Either way, you couldn’t escape them.

She was always out of reach now, concerned features just past the focus of your view. She donned the same face as in the photograph: sad, frightened, determined. Her hair was crispy at the ends, a shock of orange burnt black, and soot coated the fingers of her extended hand.

He was there too, less visible, but somewhere in the recesses, always lingering behind, waiting for the opportune moment, a terrifying face above rippled water that beckoned.

You heard the crunch of boots against gravel, a noise from reality that sucked you back, wracked a shiver through you. You wiped at a running nose and plastered on a fake smile to ensure you were alright.

But Robin hadn’t come to check on you, as you assumed she might. No, in her stead was Steve, face knotted up in worry, fingers carding through short hair.

And you didn’t know what made you do it, maybe these unseen forces, maybe the embarrassment from inside, or maybe you’d just been dying to do it for well over a year now, but you swung on him. Full fist, knuckles connecting with cheekbone, and he stumbled backward in surprise before blocking your neck swing.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, grasping your wrist in his hand.

“What’s wrong with me?” You called, tearing your arm from his grip to shove at his chest. “What’s wrong with me, Harrington? I had to murder my best friend. I had to take a torch to her living, breathing, screaming body and not let go of the trigger until she stopped. I have to relive it every single day of my life, and I’m just supposed to be strong about it and okay with it because this is the life I’ve chosen to live.”

You accentuated each thought with another shove until he was backed against a wall, his Member’s Only jacket fisted in your grasp, and then, he was wrapped around you, arms tight, the pressure of his large hand relieving the throb in your skull as your body wracked with sobs. You nearly crashed to your knees, but he stumbled and held you upright. One strong arm swung around your ribs, while the other stroked your hair.

“You were supposed to protect me. To keep me safe,” You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, gasping for air as you sunk your fingernails into his shoulders, desperate for his help.

Heat fanned your face, soft lips pressed to your temple to draw your focus, and you felt the steady inhale, exhale of his broad body against yours. He guided you to match his breath. “I know. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

You finally relaxed into him, face tucked into a warm neck, his presence all-encompassing, a splash of water on a puffy face, and when you felt grounded enough, you released his jacket, allowing your arms to drop at your sides.

His release was slower still, and large hands came to cup your face, to thumb away your tears, but you couldn’t bear to look at him, embarrassed or heart broken or angry, maybe all three.

He spoke your name, soft, tender, and you brought your hands up to pull his wrists. His hands fell away easily.

You glanced up at him, avoiding eye contact, and noticed a splash of red against his white t-shirt. “You’re bleeding,” you mumbled, fingertips trailing the small patch of blood, maroon spreading across the cotton fibers.

“No, you are,” he said.

When you met his gaze, something happened, a shift you couldn’t explain. You felt the world rumble beneath your feet, saw the gaping maws of gates flash behind your eyes. Like the drop of a bass, the dull throb in your skull shifted to searing pain. You mopped at the blood on your upper lip with trembling fingers. “Something’s wrong.”

You thought you might tumble over, equilibrium changing.

Steve caught you in his arms. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

You heard your name from somewhere close by: her voice, a warning. You glanced to your right and saw Nancy and Jonathan rushing out of the double doors.

“Steve!” Nancy called. “Massive seismic activity detected. We have to go right now.”

Argyle was rushing to start up his truck. Eddie and Robin were closed behind, hugging leather and denim jackets to their bodies.

“Take care of her,” Steve and Eddie spoke simultaneously, pointing at their perspective best friends.

Steve rounded on you. “Are you good?”

Unsure, but determined, you nodded, and he slipped his hand in yours to hoist you into the truck bed. As the five of you sped off into the night, you could just make out Robin and Eddie under the glow of the neon sign, a shock of orange lingering behind them.

---

A/N: Finally, a reunion with Robin! As I was writing her at the diner, I was like uhhhh... I think I'm in love with her. So that's fun. And the Reader and Steve are finally getting closer, finally getting over their issues... kind of? Please come yell at me about it. Thanks. Love you! Thanks, as always, for reading xo xo xo

Fic Masterlist • Navigation • Masterlist

Chapter Three: Ignite • Chapter Five: Searing

#wildfire fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington rivals to lovers #post season 4 #eddie munson #robin buckley #vickie #robin x vickie #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle

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violetrainbow412-blog · 2 years

Text

I hate you [E. M]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

word count: 13K (oopsie)

summary: You and Eddie Munson know exactly how you feel about each other. Until a moment changes everything and you embark on a journey of discovery about your relationship.

warnings: rivals to lovers (more lovers than rivals), hurt/comfort, mention of attempted abuse (but doesn't go too far) family problems, parental abandonment, the reader is ashamed of where she lives, drugs, drinking, swearing.

Love at first sight is an awesome thing. You make eye contact with the other person and suddenly their eyes become the most beautiful on the planet, instantly clicking and convincing you that you could give anything for them. Something similar happened to you with Edie Munson, but somehow the terms got confused, and instead of having love at first sight you experienced hate at first sight.

Middle school is the time when everyone is looking for their place in the world and you found refuge in black clothes, metal, and any position that was decisively against the system. To this day you had devoured entire books on anarchy and feminism, but you also did not deprive yourself of reading as energizing as the Lord of the Rings. But well, going back to the topic, coincidentally Eddie Munson also decided to take that course and although everyone's first thought was that you two would become friends, the truth is that the opposite happened. Because being honest, being different loses its meaning when there is another person identical to you, right?

In this way a kind of silent treatment was agreed upon between you; you hated him and he hated you.

It was like that for many years, doing endless things just to irritate each other. Sometimes he'd rush to grab the last of your favorite desserts in the cafeteria (even when he didn't like them) or you'd run to the movie and record store to rent just what you heard him mention over lunch. Other times you'd steal his stuff when he was distracted and Eddie would respond to this by taking some of yours, to the point where you guys had a little collection of each other in your rooms. Most of it was crap: a guitar pick, a chewed-up pen, a band pin. But it was as if they were trophies that you kept with special affection... or rather hate? Whatever the case, the point is that between you and Eddie there was a tension that by this point everyone had already been aware of.

Most of the time you had the same ideas and agreed (although you would never admit it) but when a disagreement arose, however minor, it was like watching Troy burn again.

"I know you're Ozzy Osbourne's bitch, but the truth is I think he's not that good" you had said once, seeing that he was wearing a shirt of the aforementioned. You were sitting next to him because you were late and there were no seats left, so you took advantage of the moment to make him angry "Now as a solo artist, I mean"

“At least he's still singing,” he muttered under his breath, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. “Not like this horrible group you like… what was its name? Oh yes, Coven. Only 3 albums, 5 years. It's embarrassing that you want to criticize him with that kind of taste.”

“Still, I don't care. That guy is so overrated. It's like…very basic, you know?” you insisted, trying not to be affected by what he had just said "And the Coven singer was the one who popularized the sign of the horns, did you know that?"

“Of course it wasn't her. It was Ronnie Dio”

"Huh, another overrated guy."

"Are all successful metalheads overrated to you miss feminism?" he asked rolling his eyes. You two kept arguing, paying no attention to the class, until things escalated so much that you two were sent to detention and even then, you kept fighting.

It was the daily bread and that was why one Monday morning when Eddie saw you walk through the door, he mentally prepared himself for what was to come. It was something common between you, you greeted him with one of the most derogatory nicknames you could think of and he answered with a similar insult. He straightened his back slightly as you walked past him, not wanting to seem too interested in your arrival, but he was shocked to see that there had been nothing but silence from you.

That had never happened.

Eddie didn't immediately turn his head towards you, but he did try to peek at you, hoping that maybe you could come back by remembering he was there. But you just sat in the last chair as usual and dropped your head against the table without paying any attention to the world around you. The guy looked you up and down: black boots, ripped pants, and a huge hoodie from your favorite band that you probably bought at a flea market. There was nothing unusual about you and yet he felt like you were a complete stranger.

With a frown and the gears of his mind working at full speed, Eddie took a sheet of paper and crumpled it into a ball that ended up landing on your head, so you could pay attention to him. But you didn't even get up, you just flipped the bird in such an impersonal way that it hurt him.

During class Eddie didn't have time to do or say anything to you because it was going to look completely weird that he was turning back every so often, but the feeling of awkwardness in his never left him for a second. Even when the teacher made one of those stupid comments that annoyed you so much, he didn't hear you reply at all.

Maybe she's just tired, he thought. He kept moving his leg restlessly up and down until the bell rang and he was finally able to get up to look at you. Indeed you looked tired, with a couple of dark circles that not even the cheap makeup you bought had been able to hide. Your lips looked somewhat dry and pale and your movements were similar to those of a zombie.

"I see that someone woke up with the left foot," he said with a mocking tone, while he approached you and leaned against a table, practically imprisoning you.

“Very funny, Munson. You better go fuck yourself and leave me alone” you exclaimed reluctantly, still not looking at him, as you collected your notebooks in your backpack and went through a gap that he had left uncovered. He thought that behavior was very strange, even for you, but he decided to let it go and tried to think of something else. Although after several days in which you had barely looked at him, thinking about you became something inevitable.

"Eddie!" Garreth half yelled, snapping him out of his thoughts of him. The entire club had noticed that their leader had been more distracted as he hadn't even mentioned anything about the campaign that night. "Are you listening to us?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry,” he stammered, leaning a little further forward on the table so he could look at his friends. They babbled about the monsters they still needed to defeat and Eddie only bit into the talk, teasing that they wouldn't stand a chance of winning.

He had started to feel livelier and more dynamic until his eyes unintentionally found you. You always sat alone and there was usually a mess of things on your table. Sometimes you'd read a book or nod your head from side to side to the music playing on your Walkman, but this time you were just mindlessly playing with your food and you hadn't even had dessert.

“Is it Y/N?” Dustin exclaimed suddenly. Eddie tensed at the mention of your name and turned to look at the boy.

"She is what?"

“Is she the one who has you so lost in thought?” he asked, smirking. The most intelligent of the group was perhaps that boy, so the one with the long hair knew that it was totally useless to pretend before him.

"She's been kind of weird lately. That's it"

"And since when are you interested in her?" Mike murmured, frowning. Biting the inside of his cheek, Eddie didn't know what to say, even though he didn't understand why he was making such a big deal out of you, and he looked your way again.

"I guess I just want someone to annoy" he answered, shrugging, trying to convince himself that it was. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds in which everyone looked at the curly-haired man, until he got up from his chair "I'll be back in a minute" he said, without giving time for a reply from his friends, and then began to walk in the direction of where were you.

As soon as you saw him you let out a disgusted moan and rolled your eyes.

"What do you want?"

"As kind and beautiful as ever," he said wryly, as he dropped into the chair across from you.

"Today I'm not in the mood"

"That's the problem, you haven't been in the mood since the week started," Eddie began. His hand went directly to his cheek for support and he felt the icy coldness of the rings brush his skin.

"What are you talking about?"

“I'm saying you look miserable, girl. And I mean, I love that you're miserable but I usually like to be the reason for it,” he explained, but you just rolled your eyes again “You haven't even yelled at me or told me how useless I am and I'm honestly starting to feel a little bored. Have you stopped hating me already?"

“You're a complete drama queen and you probably have some fetish or something with being called useless. And I'm not going to contribute to that, thank you."

“What fetishes I have or don't have are none of your business unless you're going to do something about them,” he said with a flirtatious grin. You looked at him with annoyance and then you looked back at the food that you probably weren't going to eat. But Eddie was persistent so he got up from where he was to go to your bench and trap you between the wall and his pale body. "Are you going to do something about it?"

"I'm serious, I'm not in the mood to put up with these things. Not today, Eddie."

Eddie, you said, and the aforementioned felt a tug on his chest. You never said his name, he was always Munson or idiot or asshole or whatever derogatory term existed in English (and even other languages), or very occasionally a cold Edward. But something as personal and loving as Eddie sounded strange coming from your lips. And added to this, your voice had such a desperate and tired tone that suddenly everything disappeared and he wanted to give you a hug.

Wait a second… was he feeling compassion for you?

He was surprised when he felt your body slide under the table to escape and he felt silly for having frozen. When you reached for your backpack, his hand went almost by itself to hold your wrist.

“You okay?” he said. His voice was a kind and genuine whisper that took you by surprise and the fingers that barely pressed around your wrist felt warm.

"I'm better than ever" you just answered, while you let go and took your things. Eddie watched you walk down the hall with the certainty that you had blatantly lied to him and a touch of concern for you that he never thought he would have.

By the time Eddie got home it was late at night and all he wanted was to sleep for days at a time. But, unluckily for him, he still had a pile of homework to do that he knew he wouldn't do over the weekend. It wasn't the first time it had happened and he refused to fail another year, so he scavenged the house for some caffeine and poured himself a couple of cups as he wrote in his notebook. He had turned on music at a low volume and had left only his boxer shorts and a worn shirt that seemed to be enough for them despite how cold it was inside the trailer. He stayed like that for God knows how long and just as he was drifting off to sleep the ringing of the phone woke him up with a start.

It was after one in the morning, who could call him at that hour?

He thought maybe it was some emergency Wayne had had and he stumbled up to the phone, picked it up, and answered with a soft Hello?

"Eddie!" he heard from the other side. Her voice was muffled by music and other voices "I am Robin"

"What are you doing calling so late?" he asked in confusion. He and Rob were good friends, but he couldn't see a particular reason for the situation.

"Oh, I'm at a party. Steve wanted to come but he didn't want to come alone and so he convinced me to come as his friend and if he didn't get someone then we could be together and stuff. You know, he's been unlucky and so am I, but Vickie isn't here otherwise it would be super embarrassing for her to see me half drunk or with Steve because then she'd think we're…”

“Rob,” he cut her off, “I love hearing your stories and I'm glad you guys are having fun, but that's just what you called? I would have appreciated if you did it on a more conventional schedule.”

“Right, I forgot. I'm calling because the girl you always argue with is here, the one who dresses like you…”

“Y/N?” he interrupted her again “And you want to pick her up or what? Are you calling me for advice?

"No, stupid! Let me finish. She came here a while ago but now she was really drunk and I don't know how it happened but she ended up getting into a fight with one of Jason's friends and her face was bleeding horrible and I can't find her anywhere."

Eddie's blood ran cold when he heard that. You weren't much of a party person and I was sure you didn't like most people out there but the fact that you'd bumped into a guy was even weirder. The pang of concern that had been latent now rumbled in his chest with force.

"Where is the party?"

“At Trina Smith's house. It is down the street…”

"I know where it is," he replied. Eddie had done a couple of sales for her and her friends "I'll be right over, if you find her, please keep her quiet and I'll find you ok?"

“Many say that she left the house, perhaps she is in the yard or on the street”

" I get it. Thanks Rob, take care of yourself”

"See you Eddie, good luck," she said goodbye and after that the boy rushed to his room to put on the first jeans he found and a jacket that was lying on the floor.

The road wasn't that long and was made even shorter by the dangerous speed at which he was driving. The idea that your face was bleeding terrified Eddie because he didn't know what those animals were capable of. A woman had been beaten, that was too much to say.

He parked in an available corner and started walking towards the house, listening to the laughter and music that came from there. He was already mentally reviewing the questions he could ask guests sober enough to find you, but it wasn't necessary as he found you standing with your body leaning against a post by the sidewalk.

“Y/N?” he asked, bending down so he could search your face. Robin wasn't lying, your cheek was full of dried red liquid and your lip looked split at one end. It wasn't as bad as he'd imagined, but it still made his blood boil.

“Munson?” you asked confused, looking up from narrowed eyes. It was obvious that you were drunk "Are you coming to break your nose too?"

"Did you break his nose?" he asked, unable to keep a bit of amusement from his voice. Even in your state you were a bully and it comforted him to know that the bastard hadn't walked away unscathed “Very metal, baby. But no, I'm here to take you home."

"I can go by myself, I don't need your help" you spat. You tried to walk, but after only a few steps you stumbled and Eddie laughed to himself as he grabbed your waist to help steady you.

“Obviously not. So either you leave voluntarily or I'll drag you to my car,” he murmured. With no choice but to lean on him to start walking and as you went the sounds of the party became smaller and smaller and were replaced with the calm of the night. Then Eddie helped you into the passenger seat with silence hanging between you "Where do you live?" he asked, but you didn't answer. You didn't want to go to your house, but you didn't want to have to tell him either, so noticing your lack of response he started the engine and started driving in a direction you didn't know.

It was obvious he wanted to ask questions and so did you, but instead you just kept staring out the window, your eyelids threatening to close many times. When you finally pulled over you were in a trailer park and still with all the alcohol in your system you were able to deduce that this was where Eddie lived.

"I'll stay here" you exclaimed, with your raspy voice "Tomorrow morning I'll be gone, I promise"

“You're not going to do that,” he said. There was no room in his tone for a contradiction "Come on inside, it's not as bad as you imagine" he continued and after going down he opened the door for you and practically carried you to the entrance. He was right, it was a very common trailer and you could see many books scattered on the table, which you assumed were the boy's homework. Your vision was too blurry to register any more details and you tensed a bit when you noticed that he was leading you to his room.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm going to take you to my bed," he explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. But from the way your face paled, Eddie knew there was something you weren't telling him. "What's wrong?"

“Did they call you? Are you going to come here?"

"They? What are you talking about?" Eddie asked with a frown. He had never been the smartest but perhaps hanging out with Dustin had given him a few of his deductive abilities, since it took just a few seconds for him to understand what was happening "Y/N, what did those bastards do to you?” he asked, anger painted all over his face, "Did they touch you?"

“They wanted to do it. That's why I hit him” you clarified. He felt his heart shrink a little and one of his fists clenched tightly as if he was preparing to fight too "And I swear if you're with them, I..."

"Never. Not in a million years” he was quick to say “Don't even think about it, I would never do that to you. To nobody” he insisted and his voice sounded completely sincere “I promise I just want you to be able to rest because the couch is shit and I don't think you're comfortable. But if you want, we can go back there”

“I would like the bed” you dared to say. The truth was that your back was killing you and if you wanted to recover a little you would have to trust him. Eddie nodded and led you into the bedroom, where he helped you lie down. You couldn't appreciate too much, but what you did notice is that there wasn't a single space that was unoccupied; posters, furniture, photos, instruments, magazines, empty cans, full cans, and even a blanket with the name of his band. It was a most picturesque place, in your opinion.

“Robin was the one who called me. She's the short-haired one who plays in the band, she's my friend and she thought maybe she could use some help. She tried to look for you, but she didn't find you” Eddie explained, as if he wanted you to finish trusting him. Of course appearances could be deceiving, but thanks to all the years of knowing him you didn't imagine him capable of taking advantage of you while you were drunk so you relaxed considerably. "What were you doing there, anyway?" His words sounded almost like a scolding.

“Alcohol and drugs are always free at those parties” you replied while shrugging your shoulders “Things just got a little out of hand”

"Hm," he hummed, nodding his head gently. He looked at you and remembered the small detail of the stain on your face, so he got up and looked for a clean cloth that he moistened slightly, then extended it in your direction "You should clean yourself"

"Ajam" you murmured, getting up with difficulty and taking the piece of cloth with your hand. When you began rudely rubbing your cheek Eddie's eyes widened, lunging at you.

"No, don’t do that. You are going to get hurt. Do you want me to help you? No. I'll help you, even if you don't want to” he rambled. He took the rag from your hand after sitting down next to you he gingerly cupped your chin. You didn't say anything while he cleaned you up and for a second you felt like you were going to fall asleep under his soft touch, until a throat clearing brought you back to reality "You have to clean your lip too or it's going to get infected" he explained. He had a poor attempt at a first aid kit next to him; just a half-baked bottle of hydrogen peroxide that no longer had a label and some cotton balls. So you agreed and you decided to do this yourself because you didn't want Eddie Munson's hands near your mouth.

He watched the entire process and after that there was silence between you again, for a long time, but it wasn't as awkward as he expected it to be. Eddie was searching for something to say for conversation, but his thoughts were overwhelmed by the sound of a quiet sob.

You had started crying.

"Hey, hey, what's up?" he exclaimed, panicking completely. His hands were floating in the air not knowing where he should place them “Does it hurt?” he asked, but you awkwardly shook your head “Is it because of those guys? Did they hurt you? Do you want me to tell Steve to kick the crap out of them?" Eddie insisted, but you didn't say anything. It was obvious that you were trying to contain the tears with all your might.

“This is stupid, I'm coming home” you sobbed as you tried to get up without falling on your face. But it was clear you wouldn't even make it to the road, and he panicked and did the only thing he could think of.

He reached out with both arms and wrapped you in a hug.

He didn't even know why he had done it, maybe it was the automatic response he had to seeing someone cry, but the moment you fell on his chest he realized it was probably a bad idea. Knowing you, the safest thing was that you were going to push him or yell at him or insult him or all at the same time.

But even though you tried to walk away, the weight of your pain was greater and you ended up giving in completely. You relaxed into his hold, all the tears you had held back for months were spilling onto the young man's shirt. When was the last time someone hugged you? You could bet it had been years.

"Don't worry, we're fine" he whispered, with a sweet voice that you had never had the joy of hearing, while he ran one of his hands up and down your back. You were completely heartbroken, crying so loud that the neighbors could surely hear you if they wanted to, and Eddie never thought he could see you in such a state.

You were the tough girl in school, who could defend his ideas tooth and nail, who faced others without fear, and who always managed to find a new way to annoy him.

And now you were in his arms, curled up in a ball and expelling all the water from your body in tears.

Of course this was driving Eddie crazy. A few days ago you had wished him a happy weekend with two middle fingers, it had been years and years in which you two shamelessly despised each other that you were collapsing in a single night.

Not even in one night, they were breaking down with a fucking comforting hug.

"I can't take it anymore," you said, with your voice muffled by the fabric of your shirt "My life is a mess and I live in a shitty place and everything... everything is horrible" he was still, thinking about what he should answer before that. But luckily you kept talking "And he was gone for so many years and now he comes back as if nothing happened, hoping that the doors are open and we love him as if he hadn't been the most son of a bitch father" a short pause that was due to a sob “And he yells at us and calls us out and I just want it to be over. Because every day I feel worse than the previous one like I'm drowning in a huge well that no one is going to pull me out of because I don't have a single fucking friend. Because I drink to forget everything and I'm so pathetic and…” you couldn't continue, the overflowing tears didn't leave you, and after this he didn't say anything, but he pressed you closer against his body as if that could make any difference. As if with that he could remove, even a little, the weight of your problems.

Eddie hadn't the slightest idea that all of this was happening to you and now that he was, he felt bad that he never noticed. Most likely, that was why you had been in a bad mood all week and he had been so selfish as to recriminate you for not paying attention to him. But now you were there, opening all your feelings and fears with him, while he was frozen. It was obvious that he didn't know what to say to that, he didn't know you well enough to give an opinion, and yet he wanted to help.

“You can stay here to sleep if you don't want to go home” he offered “And if you need to go, I can take you too. Whatever you need, just ask me,” he murmured, hoping that meant something. For him the best way to help someone was to be of use to them, as he tried to do with you.

“I'm so lonely,” you sobbed, louder than the others, and Eddie frantically shook his head.

“You're not, Y/N. You don't…” Eddie tried to formulate words of encouragement, but he couldn't. So he just held you tight and waited for you to calm down. At some point Eddie couldn't hear you crying anymore and looking down he realized that you had fallen asleep.

He carefully separated you and placed you in a comfortable position between the yellowish pillows, while he covered you with a sheet that Wayne had just bought him.

Eddie still couldn't understand what causality of fate had decided that tonight the girl who could barely stand to be in a room with him would sleep in his bed, but he decided not to make a big deal out of it. For an instant, just a thousandth of a second, through his mind he crossed the idea of lying down next to you to sleep. But he was aware that he didn't sit still at all when he slept and he didn't know how you would react, so he better grabs a pillow and walks down the hall to the couch.

In a few minutes, he was asleep too.

When you opened your eyes, your head hurt horribly and your whole body was sore, but even with these discomforts you couldn't help but notice the ceiling of the room that definitely wasn't yours. You panicked at the first second and sat bolt upright, afraid that someone had dragged you to some seedy place and ruined your life. But instead you saw a messy room that made you suddenly remember everything that had happened the night before.

Oh, that made you panic even more.

Some things were still a little blurry, but you remembered the essentials: you had gotten into a fight, Eddie Munson had come to pick you up, and suddenly all the feelings you had been holding back came out like verbal vomit as you cried on your chest. That couldn't be true, no way.

A feeling of tremendous regret flooded your entire system and your mind wandered to what he could do to you now that he had that information. Was he going to tease? Was he going to use your feelings to blackmail you? Was he going to tell the whole world? You didn't even know why you had told him, but most likely it was all because of the alcohol you had drunk and the bad time you had at the party.

The last week had been too hard for you, you weren't lying to him when you said you lived in a shitty place. Your mother was a woman who made a bad choice when she was young; your father. For years you had endured his abuse and his alcoholism until the twins were born and he decided it was best to leave. To be honest, that relieved you a lot and you didn't feel guilty at all. You had begun to dress as you wanted, to discover what you liked, and to have your own personality. But the dream didn’t last long, at some point your mother couldn’t work a single shift and you had to take care of the twins during the afternoons and evenings, when they weren’t at school, with Fridays off for you. It was a pace of life that you had gotten used to and although it was heavy it was much better than having your father at home. That was why when a week ago he had arrived, drunk and screaming, you had felt so upset. He was worse than you remembered him and he had made your siblings cry, but even with his insistence you didn't let him in the house. He was persistent and it was as if he had been sucking the vitality out of you every time he went to claim you were a bad daughter. And the ghosts of the past were sometimes too heavy.

You were praying with all your might that Eddie had gotten out of the trailer or that he was busy or whatever so that he wouldn't notice that you had woken up. You staggered to get up and search for your shoes, not missing the chance to take a curious look around the place. Now that your vision was less blurry, you could notice the drawers with cassettes, the discarded clothes, and even a box of condoms near some inappropriate magazines. You rolled your eyes at the latter and thought about when was the last time Eddie Munson had touched a… person, making a mental note to tease him about it later.

When you finished putting on your shoes you noticed that you had lost the scrunchie that was holding your hair somewhere and you internally cursed that you had lost your favorite. You sneaked out of the place, not sure where the front door was or if anyone else lived in the house until you ran into the boy sprawled out on the couch while he was snoring a little. The position didn't look comfortable at all, but he seemed to be and you walked past to where you assumed the exit was. But you didn't count on tripping and knocking over a metal tray that was on the nightstand, causing a ruckus loud enough to make him jump awake.

"Trying to run away before twelve, Cinderella?" he asked, with a raspy voice and a sleepy smile.

“Let's not make a big drama out of this. I'll just go,” you answered, slightly uncomfortable. But when you tried to open the door, it was locked.

“First of all, we aren’t foolish enough to give thieves a free pass. And, secondly, you can't leave without having had some breakfast. Probably the only thing in your stomach is that cheap booze,” he said. Eddie stood up fully and stretched his arms up, allowing the shirt he was wearing to ride up just a little to reveal the edge of his boxers and his happy trail. Without you having wanted it, your eyes had already gone to those details and you were only grateful that he didn't notice “Feel free to take what you want. We have cereal, or eggs, or cereal, or a half-wilted banana, or cereal…”

"Cereal, I get it," you said, trying not to express too much. You didn't know why Eddie wasn't kicking you out of there or saying mean things to you yet, so you had to move carefully.

Eddie walked around yawning and rubbing his face with one hand while scratching his butt cheekily with the other. You stood in your spot and when he noticed he beckoned to you in annoyance.

“Are you deaf or what? Come sit down and have breakfast” he exclaimed, a little more like he normally sounded when he talked to you. You walked over and took the plate he gave you, as well as the box of Lucky Charms from which you poured yourself a portion.

Both of you began to eat in silence and although at first you took that as a sign that he was upset, the truth was that he really wasn't. He even looked nonchalant, eating huge spoonfuls as he read the label of a can lying around, completely oblivious to you. You decided to take advantage of the opportunity and finished your plate of food only to serve yourself another because he wasn't lying when he said that surely you only had alcohol in your body.

"Huh, thanks for breakfast" you answered when you finished, a little shy. You wondered if it would be a good idea to talk about what you had the night before and find out if that had changed his perception of you in any way. Or did you just want to know whether to expect an unfavorable reaction or forget it for peace “Do you mind if I use your phone? My mom is probably wondering where I am."

"Of course not, use it" he smiled. You walked over to it and called home, hoping someone would be available. It was heard that they picked up the phone and then a little voice.

"Yeah?"

"Hi, Amy" you laughed "I'm Y/N, is mommy around?"

“She's asleep” exclaimed the little girl “Where are you? Why didn't you come last night?"

"Something happened, I'm at the house of a..." for a moment you doubted that it was the right thing to say and out of the corner of your eye you could see that Eddie is looking at you "friend. If mom wakes up, can you tell her I'll be right back?"

"Okay"

“Thank you, flea. See you in a while"

"Goodbye," said the high-pitched voice and then the beeps sounded indicating that she had hung up.

You wiped your sweaty palms on your pants and turned to him, who didn't even pretend he hadn't been listening to your conversation.

“So we are friends”

“I couldn't tell her I was at the idiot from school's house,” you said, but he burst out laughing.

"I don't think that language is suitable for a girl of..."

"6 years"

"A girl of 6 years" he completed. You were silent for a moment, you looking everywhere except at him and with him seeing nothing but you.

"I guess I'll go, bye" although you rushed towards the exit, he was faster and managed to get in the way, forcing you to stop.

"Let me take you"

"I can walk"

"I realize that. But it's Saturday morning, it's cold, and you're hungover."

You had to admit that your whole body ached and the idea of going in the car seemed very appealing, but you weren't going to allow yourself to owe someone like Eddie Munson any more favors.

"Still, I prefer to walk" you answered, so he gave up. He moved out of the way and looked for the key, in the tray that you had thrown at the beginning, to open the door and let you out "See you later"

"Be careful," he murmured. You had only walked to the porch when he spoke again "Y/N"

"Yes?"

“If one day you want to talk to someone you… you can ask me. I don't judge” he replied. You looked him straight in the eye looking for any sign of lying or an iota of mockery, but the truth is that you could only find sincerity in his gaze.

“You are not going to understand”

"I can try," he insisted. You just wanted him to keep quiet and pretend that nothing had happened. You didn't want him to feel sorry for you.

"Goodbye, Munson" you murmured, going down the stairs and walking on the grass without letting him say anything else.

The next time Eddie saw you, the vitality had returned to you. Although you still had those soft dark spots under your eyes, your face looked less worried and the eyes had returned to glow as they normally did. He assumed that the problems (or at least parts of them) had been resolved over the weekend.

And luckily it was because while you hadn't completely gotten rid of your father, you had managed to get him away with some help from Chief Powell and a threat of a restraining order. That was a relief for you and especially for your mother, so at least you were able to breathe more freely when you entered the school.

"What's up, loser?" you said as you walked past Eddie, taking him by surprise. You didn't stop to look at him, but he grinned at the sound of your voice and stayed that way for the rest of the class. From time to time, you caught him looking at you, and each time you raised your eyebrows at him, as if asking for an explanation, but he just laughed and shook his head. There was something different in the way he was looking at you as if something about you was funny, but you were very grateful that it wasn't some kind of pity or sadness for you.

The two of you didn't speak for the rest of the day, but you did share a couple of teases and smiles that lightened the mood. You kept sitting by yourself and reading the second half of Carrie while he climbed on tables and yelled at jocks.

After a couple of days Eddie came to school with his hair tied up and you were indignant when you noticed the piece of blue cloth that adorned his hair, but when you claimed it, he just laughed.

"I wanted a souvenir, can you blame me?" he murmured softly "Besides I look better than you"

"Oh sure," you said sarcastically, "He was my favorite, you know that?"

"I was going to give it to you, but now that you say you care so much, I think I've lost the urge," he exclaimed, smirking at you. From that day on he used the hair tie daily, sometimes in his hair and other times just on his wrist, but always bringing with him that part of you that he had stolen from you. You weren't going to admit it, but it hadn't bothered you as might be expected.

So time passed and things continued their course. The world went round and round without stopping to think about anyone and you had to learn to live with it.

One night Eddie heard about the party that Chance was throwing for the basketball team and everyone from school that he wanted to go to, so he packed his lunch box full of joints, cocaine, and whatever substances he had on hand to attend. He didn't like these people, but in the end, money was money.

When the boy arrived he was already packed with people and that made it easy for him to mingle with everyone. He would find a quiet corner of the house to sell and when it was all gone, he would go back to his trailer to sleep like a baby.

After selling a couple of things he decided he could smoke a cigarette just to lighten up the night and he almost choked on the smoke when he felt someone drop next to him on the couch and take the cigarette out of his mouth with two fingers.

"You don't mind sharing, do you?" you laughed, inhaling deeply on the tobacco and slapping the boy's thigh briefly. Eddie's eyes lingered for a second on the way your lips suckled and he inadvertently blushed. He thanked God the place was dark or you would have noticed.

"What are you doing here?" he muttered. You took the cigarette out of your lips and put it back on his before answering.

"Alcohol and drugs are free, remember?"

"Well, get drunk as much as you can because I won't give you an ounce of weed" he mocked. You were wearing a black midriff-baring top and ripped black jean pants, while Eddie had opted for a flannel shirt that must have belonged to Wayne, with blue jeans. Both he and you couldn't help but glance in appreciation.

"Then I don't have anything to do around here anymore," you said sadly. You were about to get up when he spoke again.

"And how have you been?"

“Since when do we ask each other personal questions?”

“I was just trying to be nice and see if you deserved something free, but if not, suck my dick”

“Oh, I don't think I could find it”

"Do you want to try?" he scoffed. But the closeness between you, the cigarette resting sweetly between his lips, and the deep voice he used made you a little tense.

"I have been fine. Existing” you admitted, in an attempt to divert the topic “And you? How's your lazy life going?"

"I'm doing fine," he replied, just as calmly. A couple of girls came over to shop and Eddie treated them politely just because they were pretty. As you listened to him talk to them you realized that he wasn't as clumsy at flirting as you had thought "I guess you'll stay here, huh?"

"If it doesn't bother you" you replied, taking his cigarette away again to take a drag "And if it bothers you too, I don't care."

You didn't talk about too much with Eddie, but that didn't mean you weren't having a good time with him. The scent of the only cigarette he had ever smoked was in your nostrils and mixed with a cheap but good-smelling cologne he wore.

When the lunch box was almost completely empty, Eddie slammed it shut and turned to you.

“Do you want to go outside for a smoke?” he asked him, raising his voice over the music someone had put on. You nodded and both of you walked towards the exit until at some point Eddie took your hand to avoid losing you. He was in the front, so you just let him drag you to a more secluded section outside. You ended up in a pool that was surrounded by a fence in a clear sign that you couldn't go there, but it meant nothing to him.

"Do you want a Marlboro or do you want marijuana?"

“Are you going to charge me?” you asked before and he smiled while he shook his head "Then give me a joint"

So he did, and when you placed it in your mouth, Eddie reached over to put it in the fire of a worn black lighter. You caught him looking at your lips, but you didn't say anything. Then he took off his tennis shoes and pulled his jeans up to his knees to put his feet in the pool, which you imitated after a while.

The two of you smoked until there was only a small butt left that you tossed aside and it didn't take long for the effects of the drug to kick in. You could see it in Eddie's narrowed eyes and the goofy smile he had, even though you were sure you looked the same.

"I like your toenails," he exclaimed, his words slow and soft as you gazed down at your own toes with electric blue nail polish.

"You're so high, Munson" you laughed, and then he joined you. Your head felt heavy, but you'd just be careful not to fall forward, or else you'd end up soaking wet. "I never thanked you for that night," you said suddenly. He turned to you to try to get a better look at you and unintentionally he leaned closer "So thanks I guess"

“I hope things have improved”

"Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?" you asked. Although that's supposed to make you happy, the phrase sounded more like a claim.

"What are you talking about?"

“I haven't heard you scoff once about that. You haven't even blamed me for what happened or told anyone, why?"

“Is that what you expect of me? What is an idiot who takes advantage of girls and makes fun of sensitive family situations? I thought you had a better idea of me” he answered, sounding upset and hurt.

"You hate me"

"Oh come on, do you think that shit is serious?" Eddie asked, crossing his arms and frowning at you. “Maybe at first it was real hate, but we're not in middle school anymore. It's a kid thing."

"Then why do you always bother me?"

"Because it's fun. But I'm not cruel enough to mess with something I know hurts you. That's the job of guys like Jason” he argued, nodding towards the interior of the house “And you? Do you really hate me?"

"Maybe," you muttered, though the word sounded more like a question. "I mean, you're annoying."

"My love, there is a huge difference between someone being annoying and hating someone," he murmured. Eddie was too close to you, speaking only in whispers that smelled like what you just smoked “And if you really hated me, you wouldn't be here with me. You need passion to hate and you don't have it. I can see it in your eyes,” he said, exhaling this last sentence with something akin to pain. You didn't know what was happening to Eddie, but what you did know was that he was too close and it was making you nervous.

It's amazing how easily you decided you'd hate this man, you were second-guessing if it was truly worth doing. Being blinded by your supposed dislike for him had never let you notice that over the years he had become more attractive or that he was a sweet person. You didn't even know what you were feeling at the time, to be honest. You only knew that you were very high and that Eddie was sighing almost on your lips.

"So you're saying you never hated me?"

“You're still too maddening. Weeks ago, I could have vomited hearing you speak."

"And what made you change your mind so suddenly?" you asked in annoyance, while you rolled your eyes and took some distance.

"The night I picked you up," he answered. You turned around curiously, hoping he would have a more elaborate response than that. There was silence for a moment and then he spoke "That day I found out that you have feelings, to everyone's surprise" when he said this last, you tapped him lightly on the shoulder and he laughed "And I don't know... seeing you like that made me feel strange”

"I don’t want your pity"

"It's not a matter of pity, it's a matter of empathy," he said. You felt as if you were mesmerized by his huge brown eyes “We are social outcasts, you and I, and you know it perfectly. And it is very stupid that we are striving to maintain. We like the same things, we have the same ideas, we could be good friends if we put our minds to it, would that be so bad for you? Do you really despise me enough to deny yourself a chance to stop feeling lonely?”

You were silent for a moment, the thoughts in your head clumsily trying to sort themselves out. The water from your feet felt cold, your hands were sweaty and you wished with all your might that you hadn't smoked so that this conversation would be more coherent. But part of you also knew that if you weren't in that state, this would never have happened.

“And what are you suggesting? That we just pretend nothing happened and move on?"

“I could get over it, the worst thing you ever did to me was that time you put frogs in my backpack” he laughed, remembering and inevitably making you do too “But I don't think you're bad, just like I'm not. I just think we've carried on a pointless rivalry for so long that it's starting to feel unnecessary now,” he mused. You were still silent, now looking at the blue floor of the pool below you "Either that or you're completely obsessed with me and you can't face your feelings so that's why you bother me daily"

“Woah, stop there, the weed got too high in your brain,” you said between laughs, hearing him laugh too. This short moment you were sharing with him made you realize that it wasn't that unpleasant to be with him. In fact, it wasn't at all.

"Then? Shall we call a truce and join forces to save each other from ending up at the bottom of the social hierarchy?”

“I am at the bottom. You have friends"

“And they could be yours, too,” he said, gently, as he reached out his hand toward you, “Just throw away all these years of unwarranted hatred and start over. You know, like civilized people."

Was it that simple? So short was the step you had to take to end that distance that you yourselves had imposed?

"I doubt very much that you are a civilized person or that you ever have been" you smiled, at the same time that you reached out to take his hand "But it could work"

"It's nice when you're not being a grumpy bitch, don't you think?" he scoffed. In revenge you pushed him into the pool, but he wasted no time pulling you by the leg and giving you the same fate.

You splashed to annoy him and suddenly you were already in a water fight, laughing that your stomach hurt. Above you two the stars seemed to be shining brighter than any other night and the moon witnessed how the water washed away any grudge you had for each other. So, for a brief moment, the whole world was just him and you.

Even though Eddie didn't become your best friend overnight, you were making progress. The first few days you tried (really yes) to stop being rude to each other, but it was something so decisive for your relationship that you couldn't put it aside. Of course, over time the insults were accompanied by smiles or winks from the boy as a silent signal that you were just kidding.

After a few weeks Eddie had already introduced you to his friends and to your surprise they liked you. Most of them were younger than him and you even met the one responsible for him rescuing you from the drunken mess you had been. His name was Robin, he was so nice and it amused you to hear her tangle with her own words.

You remembered Steve Harrington from early High school and although at first you were reluctant to talk to him, when you finally did you realized that he had changed a lot since that time. He was less cocky and even a little dumber. But in a cute way, of course.

But the one you were getting to know the most, obviously, was Eddie. During classes sometimes you would have an exchange of words or he would make you smile. You had found out that he was also a big Lord of the Rings fan and once you spent almost an hour talking about just that. Contrary to what you expected he was quite intelligent and that helped for another couple of deeper talks.

A couple of months was enough for you to be invited to sit permanently with the Hellfire club. You had fit in well with the group and they were a lot of fun, always managing to make you feel good even on the worst days. A part of you was very grateful for this change, because whenever a gray cloud wanted to settle, one of the people around you would blow it away from you. Sometimes unintentionally, other times intentionally.

You were even invited to one of Corroded Coffin's glamorous concerts and a part of you thought that Eddie looked hot playing guitar, but you wanted to take that thought straight to the grave if possible. But the problem was that those kinds of thoughts came more frequently than you would have liked. He was an extremely physical person and most of the time he was touching you in some way, whether it was putting his arm around your shoulders in a friendly way or moving you to the side by his palm on your waist, or whatever else occurred to him. the. Sometimes he would even come up behind him when you were sitting and he would massage your shoulders to entertain himself while you melted at his touch.

And of course you weren't the only one feeling this way, Eddie also suffered his own ordeal every time you took the pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans or when you were upset and confronted him, your face so close to his that it was difficult for him to find a valid argument to defend himself.

But, as always, both of you thought that it was best to do what you had agreed to from the beginning. Forget and move on.

"Your final work will be in pairs, please be quiet so you can hear your name" spoke the art teacher, trying to be heard above all the noise. You liked the class (even though you weren't the most skilled) so you hoped you'd get a good classmate. You looked around for someone you had a preference for; Stephanie was very good at painting, but Linda was better at drawing. There was another boy, Marcus, who was also quite skilled and who you wouldn't mind working with. You waited patiently until the professor murmured your last name and listened for the next "With Munson."

Your neck turned to see the aforementioned and you frowned in an expression of annoyance mixed with disappointment, while he smiled broadly.

"Soooo" you heard behind you, once the class ended, while an arm was around your shoulders "Your place or mine?"

“Can't we each make a part and then put them together? I don't need to spend more hours than necessary around you” you complained, just to annoy him.

"My house then," he continued, ignoring you.

"It's stupid, of so many people there, why did he have to play us together?"

"Fate, baby," Eddie muttered, shrugging. You had science in the next hour and you knew he was going to go to another room. "At 5?" he asked and you nodded. It was lucky it was Friday, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to accept "Don't be late!" he told you, pointing a finger at you as he headed down the hall.

You only had time to eat and nap at home before walking to Eddie's house, the sound of Kate Bush filling your ears. You had met her thanks to a red-haired girl named Max, whom you had once helped. Well, helped is a saying, because she was being picked on by some guys and you thought you could defend her, but when you got closer, she already had one pinned, so you just took care of the other one. Then you found out that she was friends with Dustin too and that she lived in the same park as Eddie, so you talked to her from time to time and that's how you ended up meeting her favorite singer. In fact, when you arrived, she was feeding a stray dog and you were able to wave to her.

You knocked on the trailer door three times but no one answered so you started banging on it repeatedly and loudly, waiting for him to deign to open it for you. But you were surprised when the door was opened by a tired-looking older man.

“Huh, hi,” you said, suddenly feeling embarrassed at the way you'd been knocking on the door. “Sorry to bother you. I came with Eddie, for a school project "

“Ah, there you are” you suddenly heard. It was him, who saw you from behind him "Just in time" he laughed, looking at the watch on his wrist "Wayne she is my partner, her name is Y/N. Y/N, he's my Uncle Wayne."

“It is a pleasure to meet you. Sorry for knocking so loud."

"Since when do you apologize for being annoying?"

“Eddie, don't be rude” his uncle scolded him, before you could say anything “Welcome, make yourself at home. I'll go to town for a few things, but you guys have fun”

Goodbye Wayne. Be careful” exclaimed the boy, coming forward to hug the man. You didn’t know that he was so affectionate and you smiled in a way that wasn't burlesque, but like tenderness.

"I'll be back in a while," he said and then walked out the door. Family ties weren't something you and Eddie had talked about openly but the fact that he lived with his uncle made you imagine that he too had his own difficult history. But you weren't going to pressure him into telling you anything if he didn't want to.

“Did you bring your material?”

“What you asked me for and a couple of dry paints that my siblings had”

"That will do," he laughed, as he shrugged. He looked quite comfortable and the clothes he was wearing were already worn, but for some reason they seemed soft. “We can go to my room if you want. It will be more comfortable that way” he suggested, so you took a couple of steps and followed him down the hall. You had only been there once, but now it looked cleaner and you couldn't help but make fun of it. Eddie didn't say anything, he just laughed and flopped onto the newly made mattress “I was thinking maybe we could use that finger painting technique and objects and all that. The one we saw last week."

"It could work," you said cheerfully. You took a curious look around the place and Eddie smiled when he noticed.

"What are you thinking about the view?"

"That looks like a virgin's room," you said without a filter and when you realized it Eddie was already laughing out loud.

"I love that you are so transparent with what you think" he replied amused, but without denying or affirming what you just said "You should spend less time criticizing me and more time focused on what needs to be done"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry” you murmured raising your hands. Eddie pulled out a box of art supplies that he had and you were surprised to see some figures that you assumed were for his Dungeons and Dragons club. You assumed that the drawings on the wall were his too and you were impressed, they really were good.

It was about an hour with you guys discussing what you wanted to do and Eddie making some sketches until the last one convinced you and you finally got to work. You were honestly having fun, because the technique was pretty messy and he had lent you a shirt to wear over yours so you wouldn't get dirty. Plus, he'd let you pick out a cassette to put on the stereo, and he'd given you a free beer he had in the fridge.

"You're ruining everything!" he screeched, trying to push you away from the painting. The truth was that you weren't screwing anything up, but he just wanted an excuse so he could get close to you and hear you laugh. Eddie didn't understand why, but lately he was enjoying both.

"Munson!" you yelled back. A small fight developed between you, but it was just powerless slapping.

You stayed like that for a while, none of you wanting to give in, just messing around like a couple of kids who want to have the last word. Once you calmed down, Eddie looked at you breathlessly and noticed a peculiar detail.

"You have something here," he said, pointing to his own right cheek.

"Here?" you asked innocently, carving your fingers over the skin. But you had only succeeded in staining yourself more.

“Yeah, but you—” Eddie began, cutting himself off with a laugh at the green paint on your face “You're the worst at cleaning yourself, just give me that, you silly" he muttered amused, reaching a little to take a handkerchief that he had lying around and putting one hand on your jaw while the other was in charge of rubbing the stain "This is the second once,” he complained, with a tiny smile.

His grip on him was careful and his movements against your cheek gentle. He was so close to you that you could feel your knee hitting his and you looked anywhere but at him in a desperate attempt not to freak out. Even so, out of the corner of your eye you managed to notice the tip of his tongue placed on his lower lip as a sign of concentration and a hint of a smile escaped you.

He was probably cleaning you up longer than necessary, but when he finally finished you turned to look at him, and although you wanted to say something mocking the words got stuck in your throat. Eddie was still holding your chin and after a few seconds he began to gently slide his thumb over your skin while he watched you closely. You could feel his breath hitting your nose and you honestly didn't know what it was that had him so enthralled. But unintentionally, you too got a little lost in his rounded features and bright eyes that you never took the time to appreciate. Although that wasn't the worst, the worst was when you caught your friend blatantly staring at your lips. You knew you had to tell him something, anything, but you didn't feel capable of doing it because you were sincerely enjoying the way he looked at you; as if you were something forbidden... or something desirable, which was even better. Unconsciously your eyes also dropped to his plump lips and you wondered if they felt as soft as they looked. He didn't have a trace of a beard, a sign that he had shaved in the morning with the cream you were smelling thanks to your proximity. Eddie's hand gently tugged at your chin and you obediently lifted your face to where he meant to take you. It was clear you were going straight for his lips, but with an inch to go Eddie suddenly released you and stepped away from him. Then a scandalous sneeze.

Nerves combined with surprise made you giggle, which then turned into laughter.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized, actually looking sorry.

"Are you trying to tell me I smell bad?" you dared to say to cut the tension, making him imitate your laughter.

Both of you knew perfectly well what was going to happen had it not been for the interruption of that sneeze and that was why your cheeks had turned a deep red and you avoided looking at each other. The distance was no longer so short, which allowed you to think more clearly.

“We should continue with the work, we are almost done”

“Huh, yes. You're right,” Eddie exclaimed, trying his hardest not to stutter.

You were quiet from then on, just listening to the songs filling the room and concentrating on painting your own section of the canvas in front of you. From time to time, you looked up to see him and were grateful that your eyes never met, even when Eddie was doing the same.

You were too worried to figure out what the hell that meant. You could have guessed the boy's intentions from the beginning, with the simple fact of your fingers holding his face, but still you let him do it, and not only that but you also helped. A very deep part of you had felt eager and aroused to close the distance and see what he had to offer you. But why? That was the real question.

“I think it turned out really well for us,” you said, after admiring the final product of your work “Considering we did it in a couple of hours and using mostly our fingers” you added, hearing him laugh.

"I'll put it on the shelf to dry and bring it back Monday," he informed you, to which you nodded. It was already dark and you had nothing else to do there, so you thought of your only logical option: leave.

“I have to go home, but see you later”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Eddie exclaimed, almost immediately, "I can't give you a ride because there's something wrong with the van and I'm going to check it out this weekend, but I could still walk you if you want."

This was the second time he was offering to share a little more time after being at his house and you knew you'd regret it if you said no again, so you agreed. He seemed quite happy and only had to put on his tennis shoes and a big black sweatshirt to be ready. When you left the trailer Max was also leaving his and just as you did when you arrived, you also said goodbye. She didn't say anything, but she would make sure to tell her friends that she had seen you out with Eddie that night.

Your house was so far from the trailer park, so you and he would be together for about a half hour, by your calculations.

"Did you hear Iron Maiden announced a new album?" he said to break the ice. That was enough for you two to start talking (as almost every time) about music. Eddie had both hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt and was walking more shyly than usual, maintaining a goofy grin most of the time.

Months ago you wouldn’t have imagined that you would be walking so happily by his side, so it was still a bit overwhelming at times. But you liked him a lot, Eddie was a good person despite everything and he could tell that he cared about you, otherwise he wouldn't be wasting his time bringing you home.

Suddenly Eddie started talking about a very funny anecdote with Robin, but the way he talked about her was so animated and loving that you felt a tug in your chest that you didn't understand why. You stopped listening for a second because of the idea that had crossed your mind and you had the urge to express.

"You like her?" you asked suddenly. Eddie snapped shut and looked at you with a frown.

“Robin?” he said and you nodded. After this he let out a laugh "It wouldn't work, believe me"

"But do you like her?" you insisted, not wanting to stick with a half answer.

"Why so much interest?" he scoffed, nudging you friendly with his shoulder, while you rolled your eyes.

“If you don't want to answer me that's fine, I don't care. I was just curious,” you snorted. Eddie seemed very amused by the whole thing and was looking down at you with a wide grin.

“She likes someone else and even though she's a great friend, she’s not my type at all. So no, I don't like her” he replied. You nodded softly, not knowing what else to say, when suddenly his arm was entwined with yours and he pulled you closer to him. "Are you jealous?" he asked playfully against your ear.

"What? Why should I be?" you exhaled indignantly, trying to get away from him, but instead of letting go, he put his arm around your shoulders. His hair reached your cheeks and his body was so warm that you were about to ask him to stop so you could hug him properly.

But that was unthinkable, how could you feel or think that kind of thing for him? It wasn't right, was it?

"I can walk alone from here if you want," you said, after a few minutes of being silent. His arm hadn’t left your body until that moment.

"Are you sure? It looks kind of dark,” he exclaimed, glancing at the streets beyond.

"I'll be fine. Thank you for having me…” you started to say, but you were interrupted when you saw a car passing by. Without thinking twice, you grabbed Eddie's sleeve and pulled him to a tall, leafy tree that was out there, letting his body cover you.

"What's going on?"

"It's my dad" you whispered. Eddie sensed your fear and leaned closer to you, crushing you between his hard trunk and his soft body, while you placed both palms of your hands on his chest. "I don't want him to see me”

"Okay, no problem," he said to reassure you, while he tried to hide you as best as possible from the sight of anyone who passed by. He suddenly thought there was a better way to do it and he used both arms to pull you into a hug, which you didn't refuse. You felt safe with the contact and the softness of the fabric of his sweatshirt was most comforting. After a while you raised your head over his shoulder and realized that, although it was the same car, it wasn't your father.

"It's a neighbor," you informed Eddie, breathing a sigh of relief and resting your cheek against his shoulder as you laughed.

Now that that worry was gone you realized the position you were in and tensed up a bit. The man's palms were planted firmly on your back and there was zero distance between you, so when you raised your head, you almost brushed his lips. Almost.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," you hummed, looking into his eyes. The feeling of heat running through your entire body returned to you and your breathing quickened considerably "I was just scared, but everything is fine" you exclaimed laughing "I'm sorry"

"Don't apologize, it's fine," he insisted, with such gentleness in his voice that it made you shiver. One of his hands went up your side and brushed your hair away from the side of your face, then rested on your cheek. "Maybe this isn't the best time to say it, but I think it's pretty."

"What?"

“Your smile,” he said. The truth had taken you by surprise that answer and the only thing you could do was frown in confusion.

"What?" you repeated, this time with a higher, more nervous voice. You were so, so close to him that it wasn’t necessary to speak more than whispers.

“Your smile is pretty. You're pretty” he continued, completely oblivious to the blush you already had on your cheeks while you panicked. You had completely forgotten about the scare you had been through, now all your attention was on the way Eddie was approaching you.

Your palms were still on his body and if you wanted you could push him away, but you didn't have the willpower to do so. On the contrary, you were slowly stretching upwards. You couldn't think, you couldn't speak or react coherently at that moment, all your mind could process was the urgent need you had for Eddie Munson's lips. So when he moved the last bit of distance you held back a gasp and when he finally kissed you both of you exhaled shakily.

The contact began sweet and careful, so slow that it allowed you to explore all the sensations. His lips tasted like the beer you'd been drinking, the skin where your hands were felt warmer than usual, and ungraspable strands of his hair tickled you. You had your eyes closed and still with some shyness he slid his hand down your neck until he reached the nape of your neck, in an attempt to deepen (but not too much) the contact. So you did and by inertia your hands ended up at the base of his neck, trying to hold him in the kindest way you could.

Eddie pressed your body against the tree and took the opportunity to slide his tongue along the contour of your lips, like a silent request that you agreed to without hesitation. You discovered that he was a skilled kisser and you regretted ever judging him so harshly because right now he was achieving the ideal balance of being tender and driving you crazy at the same time.

You didn't want to cut off contact for fear of taking back what you were doing, so when you got short of breath you parted slightly and then you kissed again. His taste was making you dizzy and you were thanking God you were leaning against a surface, otherwise you would have fallen straight to the floor because of your shaky legs.

“Eddie” you managed to say, after what seemed like an eternity. But this, more than stopping him, encouraged the boy to continue leaving short and fleeting kisses on your mouth.

"Say it again"

"Say what?" You managed to ask between kisses.

"My name. I like how it sounds on you” he confessed, getting you to put on a smirk.

"Edward?"

"No," he said, in a quiet voice, almost like a tantrum "I feel like you're scolding me when you say that"

"So Eddie?" you asked joining your lips almost afterward. You managed to get up a little and take him by the neck of his sweatshirt to reverse positions without stopping kissing him at any time "Eddie..." you started to say, stealing a deep kiss "Eddie, Eddie, Eddie" you continued, between more kisses, as if you wanted to recover at that moment all the times you had called it something else. He thought his man sounded like a song coming from your lips, especially when you were whispering it over his.

You were completely beside yourself, just succumbing to the carnal desires that were buried deep within you for a long time, until you had the strength to stop and look at him. He had red cheeks, pupils shining widely in both eyes, and lips swollen completely. Luckily for you, you didn't feel regret at first glance.

"Wow," he exhaled. You couldn't think of another expression to describe what had just happened and when he started laughing out of sheer nerves you imitated him. Eddie removed his hand from the nape of your neck to lower it to your back, at waist level, while you rested your grip on the fabric of his clothing.

"That was strange"

"You don’t like me?"

"Yeah, it just felt… strange" you laughed and as you did you leaned in a little closer to him "I mean, I didn't think we… I never thought we'd ever get to kiss"

"I like spontaneity," he joked, chuckling. To be honest he felt as if he had just run a marathon, full of adrenaline and excitement, but also very nervous about what just happened could mean for you.

"So…" you started to say, one of your hands fiddling with the chain of the necklace Eddie always wore, "That time you said it bothered you because I couldn't face my feelings you were actually talking about yourself, huh?” you scoffed, seeing him get even more flushed than he already was. "Who would have thought?"

"It’s not like this"

"Since when do you know?"

"Know what?"

"That you are completely obsessed with me" you continued, moving a little closer to provoke him.

"You wish I was!" he laughed as he took you by the wrists and pulled you away a bit. But in the middle of this maneuver, he managed to steal a kiss from you that made you smile.

"Your words and your actions aren’t very congruent, Munson" you joked again. You hadn't stopped touching each other at any time "I really have to go home or my mom is going to worry"

"Let me accompany you"

"No," you said, in a soft but determined voice "I don't..." you started to say, feeling the young man's attentive gaze "Maybe you can come later, yes?"

"Okay," he exclaimed sympathetically, as he let go of your hands and took a step back. Although you had said that you had to leave, you weren’t making the slightest effort to get away, because you wanted to talk to him first. You had discovered in recent months that this served to clarify things and avoid sorrow.

"I don't know why you kissed me, but I liked it," you said absently, hoping to cause some impact or an answer with that, but when you didn't hear him say anything you spoke again "See you Monday"

“I like you” he murmured, as if he had been thinking deeply during those seconds “I didn't know before, but now I do and I wanted you to know too. If that means anything” he timidly confessed to you. You took a step and, as if you hadn't had enough, planted a small kiss on him that made him smile.

"I think you're fucking cute, but sometimes I can't stand you"

“I can shut up if my mouth is busy. Effective and fast”

"You're crazy if you think I'll keep kissing you just like that"

"What if I ask you to be my girlfriend?" he asked, so quickly that he didn't realize it until the words had left his mouth. You crossed your arms and looked him up and down, analyzing the candidate.

"Ask me and then we'll see" you replied playfully. You really couldn't waste any more time “Bye, Eddie. Be careful, please."

"Good night," he murmured. The two of you headed off in opposite directions and when you had gone a few meters you felt the need to look back, only to discover that he had done the same "Love you" he blurted out suddenly, a little louder than normal so you could hear him.

You bit your lip to contain the excited smile that threatened to appear.

"Love you" you replied too, waving goodbye.

You weren’t lying when you said that you never imagined that something like this would happen between you. Eddie wasn’t a person you planned to be in your future and yet there you were, wishing with all your heart that he would keep his promise so you could be more than just friends. Friends, he and you were fucking friends, and to top it off you just kissed him. That sounded so unreal.

You entered the house with the biggest smile of all and butterflies fluttering strongly around your stomach, now knowing that what you felt for Eddie Munson was nothing more than love.

TAG LIST: @sweetdayme4427 @smol-book-nerd @ilikewomendealwithit @harringt8ns @katsukis1wife @ilovereadingfanfics

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn #enemies to lovers #eddie munson enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #its pure cliche

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hotcat37 · 6 months

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reincarnating soulmates bojere moodboard pls 🥺 feeling extra sof for them today,,

☆they'd find each other in every universe☆

#strangers to lovers #mermaids to lovers #hockey jocks to lovers #sons of rivaling royal families to lovers #they're doing it all #Käärijä #bojere #i hope u like it :3 #bojan cvjetićanin #Hotcat moodboards

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kuzure-collapse · 1 year

Text

childhood rivals to lovers prompts

because it took me until high school to realize that the annoying boy i knew in 7th grade might've liked me

—-

being the top of their classes but only having eyes to compete with each other

being nerds and doing homework together after school but only to compare answers and smugly correct each other

X finds out Y's favorite color and starts wearing more of it, Y secretly likes it

having insulting nicknames that only THEY can use on the other

neither of them know how the beef started, could be that X already liked Y and didn't know what to do with feelings + Y being friends with kids that liked to argue with X

they end up hanging together bc of mutual friends and Y ends up enjoying this group more than their old friends

or X is friends with Y's sibling so they end up encountering at Y's house unexpectedly

maybe teachers note the rivalry and seat them together/pair them for projects. the class likes to watch their back-and-forth

"you look dumb with your hair up like that" "fix your chapped lips" "short" "weak" other immature digs at each other

losing contact as they end up at different high schools and eventually go to different colleges, maybe out of town

both were too stubborn to get each other's contacts, or didn't have ways to personally contact each other after middle school

neither said anything at middle school graduation, last they'll ever see each other

maybe one cries, or X randomly hugs Y before running away, maybe a small picture together taken by their parents who don't know about the rivalry

cut to college, they return to their hometown during a school break. maybe the breaks happen to line up

see each other in passing on a crowded bus/train, almost don't recognize each other

"was X this attractive?" sort of thoughts. maybe one notices and the other doesn't, or both make awkward eye contact for a split second before looking away

maybe they end up visiting the old bakery/cafe they always went to as kids and see each other on line, or X is working register as a summer job

brush it off bc maybe they've been thinking about their crush for so long that they're hallucinating the scenarios they made up

do they keep feigning ignorance? at this point, haven't there been too many coincidences?

one decides to take a chance and calls out to the other with the old insulting nickname

it works and they respond in kind with a smile

"It's been almost a decade now"

"you look different"

taking a closer look and seeing how the other has developed. the awkward baggy clothes have been replaced with better fitting stylish clothes.

the baby fat is gone but the smile's undoubtedly the same

noticing the changes they made in appearance and remembering the old insults they threw. maybe one did change their hairstyle and looks way too attractive, maybe one got muscular and is much stronger than the other

even better with height differences, especially if the one who used to be shorter grew way taller

or the shorter one stayed short and the other grew substantially

making snarky but lighthearted remarks mentioning inside "jokes" from the past

"still got chapped lips?" "still looking at my lips?" even better if one knows about the other's crush

one has the courage to ask for the other's contact info, finally arrange something close to a date (they never specify)

reminisce about old times, maybe meet up in the old playground/cafe/bakery near the middle school

realize they get along well as adults, talk about high school and college and where they're going in life

sad if one is going abroad, or if their careers are so separated that they probably won't have time to see each other a lot

maybe they secretly kept mementos of each other. if not that graduation picture, then the mean doodle Y drew in X's notebook, or the post-it X left in the book Y lent them, or the hat that Y never gave back, or the pen that X stole from Y's bag, etc.

"are you with anyone?" "no, you?" "me neither"

"i used to like you when we were kids" "used to? what about now?"

or "what am i supposed to do with an expired crush" to be sassier

meeting again is stirring up old feelings

happy end, they get together and have a strong long distance relationship or smth

sad end, they part ways for the final time

#otp #prompts #rival to lovers #childhood friends to lovers #pining #mutual pining #crushes #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers #height difference #time skip #tsundere #flirting #academic rivals

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singularattitudeofasafetypin · 2 years

Text

The Damsel and the Dungeon Master

Masterlist

Summary: After losing a bet, Eddie makes Reader dress up and play the princess in his newest campaign. Furious, she plots a way to get back at him, but she'll need the help of one of the party! Does Eddie have a traitor in his midst, and does their rivalry hide deeper feelings?

Word Count: 4.3K ish

Warnings: none that I can think of!

A/N: Disclaimer that I've never played Dnd so there's probably a tonne of things I get wrong but oh well! I'm a Brit so anything I get wrong about America, that's why!

I really liked writing this! I hope you guys enjoy reading it!

Please don't copy my work

If someone had asked you that morning what you’d be doing later, you’d never have guessed, ‘Standing in the costume cupboard of Hawkins High Drama Club, watching your worst enemy rifling through its contents like a mad man,’ would be the answer.

It started the way all stupid things did: with a bet.

You’d graduated from Hawkins High two years ago now but when Mrs Williams had called you in a frenzy, begging for help wrangling the new generation of thespians for the school musical, you couldn’t say no. So here you sat, watching the late-night rehearsal fall to pieces, trying to whip it back into shape.

That was until your arch nemesis walked in. Eddie Munson burst through the door like he owned the place and started rooting around the corners of the room. You tried not to pay attention, fixing your eyes on the scene being performed. ‘He’s probably left something from his silly boardgame,’ you thought, huffing that the drama club were still being forced to share their space.

You’d been protesting the arrangement since the club formed in your freshman year, but each time you were met with failure and an infuriatingly smug smile. Hundreds of arguments had to be broken up by your respective cohorts throughout your high school years, the two of you red faced and spitting venomous insults. Still, he refused to budge.

Graduating was supposed to mean you never had to see his arrogant face again. Trust your luck!

‘No! No, come on guys!’ you clapped, stopping the trainwreck of a scene in its tracks, ‘We’ve rehearsed this!’

Busy directing the kids, you didn’t see Eddie freeze at the sound of your voice, turning slowly to follow it. His mouth split into a grin. Once you sat down, he bounded over, ‘Long time, no see!’ he crowed, throwing his arm around you like you were best friends.

He sniggered when you jumped. ‘There’s a reason for that, Munson!’ you shoved his arm off your shoulder, shooting him a look of pure disgust. ‘From the top!’ you snapped at the kids, a little harsher than you’d meant to

He clutched his heart, dropping into the next but one seat and retching as though you’d mortally wounded him, ‘So mean!’ he whined, ‘I thought you liked me!’

‘Shut up!’

‘Come on, I thought you had a flare for the dramatic!’ he teased, getting up in your face, only laughing when you elbowed him sharply between the ribs.

You refused to look at him. Maybe if you just ignored him, he’d disappear?

It didn’t work; it never did!

The rehearsal wore on and Eddie sat next to you the whole time. Everything seemed to be going wrong tonight! You and Mrs Williams were at your wits end and there he was, snickering and whispering to you like it was all a massive joke!

When you sat back down after fixing some blocking, he leant over and murmured, ‘I bet you Katie bungles her solo!’

You scoffed, ‘No way!’ Despite all the setbacks, that was one thing you were comfortable with. Katie had had that song down since week two.

He shrugged, ‘If you’re so sure then bet on it!’

You hesitated, attention split between your protegees and your enemy. An idea crossed your mind. It wasn’t at all professional, but this could be your chance. Sweet revenge was right at your fingertips. It was too much to resist.

‘Fine!’ you conceded, ‘She doesn’t mess up and you have to find some other place for your stupid club! Give us our room back, permanently!’

Eddie looked surprised, ‘You’re still mad about that?’ He laughed at you, making you hate him even more.

‘Name your terms, Munson!’ you huffed.

His eyes sparkled at that, like you’d just walked right into his trap. ‘If she messes up,’ he said slowly, voice silky smooth, ‘You have to dress up and play the princess for my stupid clubs next campaign!’

‘You can’t be serious!’

He spread his hands, ‘What? You’re chickening out? I thought you were certain!’ he mimicked, waving air quotes.

You weighed the options, but he wasn’t nervous. Manipulating you was easy as breathing! Eventually you took the bait. ‘Deal!’

Stupid! Stupid! Idiot!

Of course, tonight had to be the one time her voice broke. It wavered on a note she’d been practicing for weeks! Months! Your face fell a thousand feet and a mile wide grin stretched Eddie’s mouth.

Cut to you, arms folded, face burning with shame, watching Eddie rummage through the cupboard, trying to find you a costume.

‘I know it’s here somewhere!’ He grunted and groaned then gave a shout of triumph. You cringed as he stood, presenting the crumpled pink monstrosity he’d selected for your torture.

The dress had been used for the ’82 production of Romeo and Juliet but had been bought before your time. Quality, the finest a small-town high school drama department could afford. It was limp, ragged and devoid of structure with scratchy lace around the square neckline. Faux lacing ran down the bodice and the skirt gave the illusion of a mid-renaissance split front.

Eddie threw it over your arm, diving back into the mess. ‘You can’t be serious!’ you grumbled.

‘Deadly!’ he said over his shoulder, ‘And I thought we had…I know it’s here somewhere- ha!’ he straightened, holding a cone shaped hat in matching pink, with tatty gold ribbons hanging pathetically from the point.

‘No!’ you shook your head, ‘Absolutely not!’

‘Come on!’ he wheedled.

‘I’m not wearing the stupid hat, Munson! No way!’

***

‘Welcome valiant adventurers!’ Eddie spread his arms, heralding the party as they entered. Their usual table was set up, lights dimmed and mysterious and candles, which were definitely not allowed in school, flickered on either side of Eddie’s throne. Concealed behind a curtain at Eddie’s instruction, you contemplated your shame. The Hellfire banner leered down, taunting you and your wretched defeat.

‘Disaster had fallen the quaint kingdom of Knaerwood! An evil sorcerer had kidnapped the fair princess, Esmeralda, threatening destruction on her homeland!’

He paused, expectantly. ‘Hey! That’s your cue!’

Rolling your eyes and wishing for death, you stepped out of the shadows. The group stifled gasps at the sight of you, creased pink skirts trailing around your ankles and, yes, ribbons dangling from that ridiculous hat.

‘Oh noblemen! Knights of the realm!’ you cried in a monotone, rolling your eyes, ‘Pray won’t you rescue me from the malevolent clutches of-,’ you squinted at the smudged ink on your hand, ‘Uronin?’

No one knew where to look. The younger members knew of you through Mike’s sister and the older from the countless rows they’d dragged Eddie away from. One thing they all knew without a doubt was you wouldn’t touch D&D with a ten-foot pole.

You folded your arms, glaring at them, daring them to utter a single word. None of them did but Gareth and Dustin had to cover their mouths to hide giggles.

‘I don’t know!’ Gareth managed, ‘She looks like she’d rather kill Uronin herself!’

You shot daggers and he flinched.

‘What say you men?’ Eddie ignored all of you, ‘Will you undertake the quest to save the poor, defenceless princess?’ he made sappy faces at you with each word, making you want to scream with anger. How was this so much worse than you imagined?

‘Well, I for one will never leave a fellow maiden in peril!’ Lucas’s younger sister spoke up. She nodded at you in solidarity, ‘I will take the quest!’ At least she seemed sympathetic to your pain, or was that just her character?

The others promptly took up the task with theatrical pledges of chivalry.

The next two hours were hell. Eddie made you act the helpless princess, shaking his head and giving patronizing direction when he wasn’t satisfied with your performance. ‘Ham it up a bit!’ he instructed, catching your arm, ‘You’re an actress! You should be good at this!’

You wanted to kill him.

When at last the torment ended, you ripped the hat from your head, breathing a sigh of relief. It was over!

Wordlessly, you began to help clear away, nightmare flashes of how you used to find the drama room left on a Monday morning coming back to you. The others filed out and Eddie stuffed his binder under his arm, slinging his bag over his shoulder, ‘See you next week!’ He said with a smile.

Your blood ran cold, ‘What?’

He looked back, a confused frown marred his features, ‘Oh, you… didn’t think this was it?’ Your jaw tightened. ‘They’re nowhere near rescuing you, Esmeralda!’ he simpered.

‘This is gonna be eight weeks at least!’

***

It was torture.

You had to admit, Eddie was a wonderful storyteller. The way he narrated was so animated and unlike anything you’d ever seen. If you didn’t loathe him so much, he could have been an invaluable asset to the drama club. He was so invested in the world he’d created; it was infectious. The party hung onto every word, lapping it up, and Eddie got this mad glint in his eye like he was drunk on the performance.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make the following weeks any less mortifying. Just when you’d think it couldn’t get worse, he’d hand you the script he’d scrawled for the next session, and you’d die a little more.

By week four, you’d had enough. You couldn’t just take this lying down! There had to be something you could do to get back at him!

That night, as you sat listlessly during the session, waiting your turn to embarrass yourself when the perfect revenge plan presented itself. Your eyes flicked to Eddie as though afraid he could hear your thoughts. He didn’t react, in the middle of some spiel about armour classes or something.

Forcing yourself to relax outwardly so he wouldn’t suspect, your mind got to work. You weren’t positive it would work, and you definitely couldn’t accomplish it alone. You needed an ally, one right under Eddie’s nose.

‘Hey, princess!’ he snapped his fingers in front of your face. You jolted out of your head. ‘That was your cue! Let’s go!’

Oh, you were so going to get him back!

***

Lucas Sinclair’s younger sister had a mouth on her. Though she was the youngest of the party and the only one not in high school, she was more than a match for any of them. Including Eddie.

Her poison-soaked kukri wasn’t her only weapon, she was the only one able to go toe to toe in an argument with the dungeon master, and more often than not, she got her own way. You also suspected her to be sympathetic to your plight if your first session was anything to go by. She would often roll her eyes and begin harassing Eddie whenever he grated on you too hard.

It was now or never! You ran to catch her once the session was over, leaving the drama room in a mess and Eddie calling after you.

‘Hey!’ you panted, skidding to a halt when she stopped, ‘Erica, right?’

She raised an eyebrow, ‘Who wants to know?’ Lucas yelled for her to hurry up and she shot a sarcastic remark over her shoulder. ‘What do you want?’ she asked pointedly, looking back to you.

‘I uh-.’

She was like three foot tall! How was this kid so intimidating?

‘I need your help!’ you begged, ‘Please, I can’t take much more of this! Munson’s killing me in there! I need your help to get back at him!’

She looked sceptical; her eyes narrowed. You crossed your fingers behind your back. ‘What’s in it for me?’

‘What?’

‘You heard me! What’s in it for Erica?’

You spluttered. Whatever happened to ‘not leaving a fellow maiden in peril?’ ‘Well, what do you want?’

She tilted her head to the side, tapping her jaw, pretending to think for a while. ‘Hmm… Stop trying to take away the drama room!’ she demanded, hand moving to her hip.

That surprised you. You didn’t even think she’d know about that!

‘You should know what it’s like to get pushed away!’ she continued poking a finger at you, ‘You drama kids aren’t exactly in with the popular crowd either! We’re not so different, so stop trying to get rid of us!’

You were taken aback, guilt suddenly flooding in. In all your years of protesting Hellfire, you’d never stopped to think how they might feel about that. You bit the inside of your cheek, hanging your head sheepishly, realising how hypocritical you were.

Theatre was something you loved dearly and wanted to protect from those who didn’t understand or ridiculed it. But at its core, wasn’t theatre about unity? ‘There are no small roles, only small actors!’ That was something you’d been told from day one and was now teaching to the new generation. Everyone in a cast mattered, from the lead to the youngest ensemble member, no matter what! It was a family. And there you’d been, pushing this group away because you deemed them unworthy.

You’d seen the way they played their roles. They loved their characters and the stories so much. All this time you could have been working together. How had it taken six years and a middle-schooler’s words to make you see that?

‘Okay fine, I’m sorry,’ you muttered. ‘Now would you please help me?’

Erica smiled triumphantly, holding out a hand. You shook it.

‘What did you have in mind?’

***

Hellfire became almost bearable after that day.

Watching Eddie poke fun at you, still believing he had the upper hand was exhilarating. His jibes stung less knowing that one of his own had betrayed him. He had no idea the storm that was coming.

The two of you met in secret. You brought back information you’d snatched from glancing at Eddie’s notes when he wasn’t looking, and she began to coach you in the art of Dungeons and Dragons.

It was Gareth you had to thank for the idea. Way back when you began, his suggestion that you wanted to kill the wizard yourself had made you wonder, why not? Why the hell not?

Thankfully, Lucas was too busy with basketball, he didn’t have time to notice you dashing into his sister’s room with wads of paper and notebooks.

Erica helped you fill out your character sheet, careful to pay attention to the notes Eddie had for you already. That way he hadn’t a leg to stand on if he tried to argue. She took you through the endless number of rules, teaching you the names of different monsters and playing one shot campaigns to level you up.

By the time the final session rolled around, Erica was satisfied you were ready.

‘Are you sure?’

Doubt suddenly flooded in. What if it wasn’t enough? You only had one shot at this!

She placed a hand on your shoulder, looking you dead in the eye, ‘Kick his butt, Esmeralda!’

You gave a small smile and she nodded before Eddie entered. You broke apart, trying to look innocent. He couldn’t suspect anything! His eyes flicked between you, focusing, but before he could ask any questions, the rest of the party trooped in, laughing excitedly about the grand finale of the campaign. Oh, if only they knew!

You took your seat, next to Eddie’s, practically vibrating with excitement and anticipation. The party battled through a final horde of monsters; it was almost time.

‘The final orc lets out an ear-piercing roar then drops down… dead!’ Eddie recited, throwing himself back onto his throne to imitate the monster. He leaned forward, ‘The door at the end of the corridor creaks open, revealing the desperate princess. Eddie gave you a nod. Erica barely concealed a smile.

You stood, dramatically clasping your heart. ‘Oh, noble adventurers come to my rescue! How could I ever thank you?’ you really went for it this time. From the corner of your eye, Eddie watching you with a look of awe. Pressing the back of your hand to your forehead you declared, ‘In all the ages of this world, there is no reward that could match your bravery!’

‘But then,’ Eddie cut in throwing his hand out to stop you and kneeling halfway onto the table, ‘a whirling storm of smoke arises! Out of the shadows, he materialises! The evil lord Uronin!’

The party let out cries of fear and alarm. Eddie cackled, ‘He stands between you and the princess! His staff drawn, it’s light growing brighter by the second!’

Before he could say another word, you slammed a character sheet down on the table. ‘I pull a knife from within my skirts and stab him in the back!’

The room fell silent. Eddie stared at you, sitting back on his heels. His smile faltered. You held his gaze and realisation seemed to dawn on him.

‘No way!’ Gareth exclaimed, open mouthed.

‘You never said she was gonna play!’ Mike interjected.

‘Dude, epic reveal!’ Henderson laughed with delight.

Eddie didn’t say anything. His eyes didn’t move from yours. They were unreadable. In the dim light, they looked like black beetles. They flickered with the reflection of candlelight, as though they too were on fire. You stood your ground, goading him to make his move. Something in his expression changed. He handed you a die, ‘Roll for damage!’ You took it and he caught your wrist. ‘You’re on!’ he breathed.

You’d never been more nervous in your life. Playing for the first time in a group was nerve-wracking enough but these were incredibly experienced competitors. By all accounts, Eddie was the toughest dungeon master there was, and he had no intention of going easy on you.

Erica had your back. She shouted instruction above the ruckus that resulted and you were always careful to follow. Eddie noticed. Realisation hit; an underhanded mutiny had taken place within his own ranks! A scowl creased his brow. He amped up his game.

Wave after wave of monsters attacked. You were pretty sure Eddie was just improvising now. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

‘That’s ridiculous!’ you protested, after a particularly cruel ruling.

He shrugged, smug smile plastered across his face, ‘That’s the game sweetheart!’

‘No it’s not! He rolled 18! With his multipliers-!’

‘I get the final say!’ he interrupted, pushing himself out of his seat.

‘You aren’t being fair!’ you shot back, following suit.

‘Tough luck!’

‘If you aren’t going to play properly!’

‘You know what, princess?’

‘What?’

His jaw tightened. You were practically nose to nose, so close you could feel his hot breath on your cheek. Eddie bit his tongue, falling silent. His eyes flitted, almost imperceptibly to your lips as he wet his own and something deeper than fury ignited inside you. Blind rage became floundering confusion. Your breath became shallow. All at once, you were noticing the lines between his brows when he frowned, the way his bottom lip jutted out and quivered just a little, the hard curve of his jaw, the dark intensity of his eyes…

‘If you two lovebirds are done?’ Erica cut in, ‘I search for a way to cave in the passageway!’

Eddie tore away and sat down. You forced those feelings down and tried to focus on the game. He hardly looked at you for the rest of the session. Your head was reeling, trying to make sense of the altercation. A red flush crept its way up your neck; you tried to keep it together.

What had he meant by looking at you like that! What had you meant, thinking all those things? What did any of it mean?

And for the first time, somewhere deep down in your heart, you worried you’d struck a nerve.

***

It was a close call, but the party came through. Eddie recounted the final parts of the story amid cheers of victory. They left their seats, chatting and celebrating for at least another half hour before beginning to head home.

Triumphantly, you threw your princess hat across the room. Eddie smiled to himself but you didn’t see.

You thanked Erica quietly, ‘Worth every second!’ she smirked, ‘Or nearly!’ You felt your cheeks grow warm again, warmer still at the voice behind you.

‘So, you’re the mutinous traitor?’ Eddie came out of nowhere, slouching between you with an arm on either of your shoulders.

‘All I did was stand up to an oppressive regime! And come to the aid of a damsel in distress!’ she retorted, making him laugh. The sound was low in his throat, filled with fondness. You couldn’t help but want to hear it again. He didn’t seem angry that one of his flock had betrayed him, in fact he seemed quite proud.

Erica bid farewells and followed Lucas out to where their mom waited in the car. It was then you realised how quickly the room had emptied.

You and Eddie were alone.

He held out his hand, ‘Well played!’ he said, his tone completely genuine. You shook it awkwardly. It was weird to talk without sarcasm. Maybe you liked it?

‘Thanks.’

‘You completely cheated,’ he added (there it was), ‘but well played!’

‘I did not cheat!’ you jerked your hand away, indignation sparking up again.

‘Did so!’

‘Did not!’

For once Eddie gave in, shaking his head with a smile. ‘What did Sinclair get out of this anyway?’ he asked, turning to start tidying up. What was happening? Eddie never started tidying up first! ‘She never does anything for free!’ he went on, ‘She’s really into this Capitalism thing, try’na knock it out of her!’ He gave another one of those slight laughs making your stomach turn over.

You hesitated, wondering if you should tell the truth. The source of all your rivalry had been her price. Would he lord it over you? Would he be mad you gave it up for her when you’d spent forever refusing him? Either way, it felt scarily close to admitting defeat.

With a heavy breath you muttered, ‘She said I had to stop trying to kick you guys out!’

Eddie stopped, ‘Wait, really?’ He couldn’t believe what he was heard.

You nodded at the floor, biting the inside of your cheek in attempt to stop hot embarrassment from taking hold. ‘She said I ought to know better, you know, with the drama kids not being popular either.’ You let out a breathy chuckle, ‘She said maybe we aren’t so different after all.’

‘What, stubborn?’ Eddie grinned, stepping closer.

You looked up at him, with a tentative smile, ‘Arrogant!’ you offered, raising an eyebrow.

‘Self-centred?’

‘Impulsive,’ you breathed. There you were again. You didn’t know how it happened so fast: faces so close it wouldn’t be hard to lean forward and…

He sensed your uncertainty. A tender smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, growing wider when he saw it mirrored on yours. After all this time, all this arguing, he had to ask himself if this was what it was all for? Maybe all of your quarrels, all of your disagreements had been leading up to this? Maybe at the heart of it all, this was what you really meant by-

‘Sorry I forgot my- woah!’

You jumped apart as Mike burst through the doors and yelped in panic.

‘Wheeler!’ Eddie seethed. The boy was trembling like a leaf.

‘Did I… interrupt… something?’

You held your breath, wincing at the rush of feelings crawling under your skin. Eddie looked fit to burst.

‘Scram!’

He grabbed his hoodie and bucked it, leaving the doors to swing and crash shut behind him. Eddie swore under his breath and went back to clearing the table. You didn’t move for a while, an unfamiliar twinge of regret shot through your heart.

Electricity charged the air, like static before a thunderstorm. Your heart pounded, grappling for understanding. Without thinking, you stepped forward just as Eddie turned around, almost falling into you. Nose to nose again, this time, you closed the gap.

Balling your fists in his shirt and reaching on tiptoe, you kissed him. He froze up. Time stopped and reality took a while to catch up with him. Then his hand found its way into your hair and he relaxed, drinking you in like he was dying of thirst.

A second later, you broke apart. Eddie breathed heavily, trying to replace the air you’d just knocked out of him. He had stars in his eyes, still not able to process what happened. It was like everything suddenly made sense. An unspoken recognition passed between you before he kissed you again. Cupping your cheek, he fumbled to set the miniatures he’d gathered back on the table so he could hold you in both hands. Yours tightened in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him still closer.

Too soon, he broke again but stayed close. Forehead pressed to yours, he laughed quietly, that same low sound that sent butterflies careening through your tummy. When your eyes met, his open mouth stretched to a smile, ‘I knew you liked me!’

‘Don’t push your luck, Munson!’ you mumbled, reaching to kiss him again and again laughing between them.

‘Never!’ he grinned, obliging you, ‘Never! Never! Never!’

You tired yourself out, incessant kissing turned to a breathless embrace. Eddie’s eyes were closed, like if he opened them, it would turn out to all be a dream. A beautiful dream.

‘Hey,’ you murmured, waiting until he met your gaze. You raised an eyebrow, ‘So do I get one of those cool t-shirts now?’

Eddie pressed a kiss to your smile, taking you all in, ‘I don’t know, princess,’ he smirked, ‘I think your outfit’s pretty perfect already!’

You slapped his chest and he laughed, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you in once more.

***

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