#stranger things scenario

[tenseoyong]

Give It A Try | e. m

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

virgin!reader, sex toys + lube, implied previous drug use, praise, very little verbal dominance, probably over use of “princess”, squirting, some hair pulling

requests are open

“What is it?” You eyed the box nervously.

“Open it, then you’ll know.” Eddie shrugged, sat beside the suspicious package on his bed,relaxed against the mattress while you hovered in the middle of his room. “C’mon, it’s not that bad, princess, I promise.”

It wasn’t exactly uncommon for Eddie to bestow you a gift or two. Though, usually, you could see what was coming your way immediately, it was hardly ever hidden. Like Eddie appearing with an already rolled joint to share “free of charge, for my girl”. Or a set of dice he’d managed to find at the bottom of his drawers to include you in one of his DnD campaigns. Or even showing up with a fist full of flowers he’d obviously ripped from some upper class person’s lawn. 

But, the semi-neatly wrapped box was a strange sight. Especially, the pink colored paper and matching bow, that looked so out of place in Eddie’s messy, darker room.

Plus, the mischievous glint in Eddie’s warm eyes made you all the more suspicious. 

“C’mere, baby, s’not scary, I swear.” Sensing you weren’t too convinced yet, Eddie threw his ring-clad hand out towards you, for you to take. “We’ll open it together, then, yeah? Don’t you trust me?”

Even though he used a mocking tone, and you knew he wasn’t serious, Eddie questioning your trust in him made your lip quiver ever so slightly; and you placed your hand in his larger, warmer one and allowed him to pull you towards him until you were situated on his lap, sat sideways and faced with the box again. 

Of course, you trusted Eddie. With your whole heart, actually. He’d never done a single thing to make your safety with him in the year or so you’d known him, or the barely two months you’d been officially-unofficially seeing each other. He wasn’t at all the scary and intimidating man your peers, friends, and even parents thought Eddie to be. He’d never made fun of you, or teased you anything beyond a light hearted joke between the two of you—he hadn’t even looked down on you or laughed when you shyly admitted to being not only a virgin, but embarrassingly inexperienced—haven’t even had your first kiss prior to Eddie. 

How could you not place your trust in him?

In truth, that embarrassing admission had Eddie rather excited. The idea of being your first everything—from kissing, to dates, to anything and everything sexual—had the most degenerate parts of his brain racing. Since then, Eddie has taken great care to be slow in his advances, carefully exposing you to new and intriguing forms of romance all while soaking up every sweet, innocent, virginal reaction you’d given him.

And, he was more than excited to join you on another new experience. 

Still hesitant, you eyed Eddie’s failed attempt at hiding his glee and grasped the box, bring it towards you. Curiously, you shook it, hearing its context shuffle around a bit. The sound alone wasn’t enough to make a good guess, but it did have a decent bit of weight, not that that fact helped you either. 

“Well, if it had been alive, it’s not now.” Eddie snorted, one hand smoothing over your back patiently, trying to relax you a bit. “Go on, open it.”

The casual change of tone sent a small shiver down your back, no doubt felt by Eddie as his grin grew just a bit—that subtle shift of dominance always rocked you to your core, and now was no different. You bit your lip and shuffled in Eddie’s lap, pinching the soft ribbon between your thumb and pointer finger—and pulled. 

The ribbon fell away easily, floating to rest on your lap as you focused on the wrapping paper next. Taking care to not just rip it apart and make a mess, you peeled the tape holding the edges together, fidgeting under Eddie’s intense gaze. Fold by fold, the paper too, fell away, pushed off the side of the bed and forgotten by Eddie while you held the now bare box. Only a cardboard lid separating you, from his present. 

You held your breath, and inched the lid off the box, blinking longer than necessary to avoid looking inside. 

Eddie pinched your side.

You jolted against him.

Eyes popping open and finally seeing. 

Oh.

“What’dya think, princess?” Eddie’s whisper is hot against your ear. Your throat dry, feeling like sand paper as you swallow back a surprised noise. “D’you like it?”

It wasn’t what you expected. Though, how could you have begun to suspect it?

A relatively small, flesh colored dildo sat in the box you clutched like it was your lifeline. 

Oh.

“I don't—well, I think—um—it’s, uh, nice?” You stumbled, all while Eddie’s amusement was obvious. Your flushed face, and sudden stutter, unsure how to respond to such a gift, was the highlight of Eddie’s day, let alone week. “Th-thank you, Eddie?”

“You’re welcome, princess.” Eddie hummed against your hair. “Why don’t you take a closer look? Pick it up.”

Fumbling over the command, your shaky hand curled around the cool silicone, dropping the box it once laid in over the side of the bed so it too could join the rest of the chaos of Eddie’s bedroom floor. The toy felt odd, and foreign as you turned it over in your hands, quietly inspecting it—somehow firm and soft at the same time—the rubber only having enough give to squish in a small bit before the firm middle held firm. Mock balls at the base, along with a suction cup bottom. And a bright, nearly cherry red, mushroom tip. 

While your focus was on your new and intriguing toy, Eddie supposed this wasn’t far off from torture—watching you experimentally squeezing and caressing the fake cock, all while his own was beginning to stir in his pants. Your weight on his lap didn’t help any, either. 

“I want you to do somethin’ for me,” Eddie swallowed, unable to tear his eyes from your hands wrapped around the toy. “D’you think you can do it for me, princess?” “What is it?” You asked, barely above a whisper. Twisting in his lap, you didn’t miss the low hiss Eddie let out when you wiggled around on his crotch. Feeling the growing bulge beneath you had your body warming from head to toe. 

“I need you—t’fuck yourself with your new toy.”

Shoving his hands beneath your thighs, Eddie all but folded your knees into your chest as he held you until he could scoot back on his mattress until his back hit the wall, manhandling you until you laid against his chest, legs thrown over either side of Eddie’s lap; your legs spread, skirt doing a terrible job at keeping your decency covered. 

Even in the privacy of Eddie’s room, you couldn’t fight the flush in your cheeks and you instinctively went to knock your knees together, pulling at your skirt hem before Eddie gripped your wrist, “Don’t cover yourself, s’ok, baby. Lemme, just, play with you a bit, ok?”

This wasn’t entirely uncharted territory, not anymore.

Eddie was taking his time with you, pacing himself before doing a little more, going a little further each time. Trying to ease his sweet, innocent, virgin princess into his world without scaring or hurting you. It was only a couple weeks ago that he’d decided you were ready for a little over-the-panty touches, guiding you to grind into his denim-covered thigh in the back of his van, and finishing with experimentally sinking two fingers into your warm heat. You’d been startled—and impossible tight—and Eddie took note of the surprised and not at all pleased sound you’d made that day and knew it was going to take a lot of work to get you ready to actually take his cock one day.

So, he’d start again, exactly where he’d left off those weeks ago.

Eddie’s hand dipped below your skirt, hidden from either of yours’ view and seemed to just ghost over your pussy. Tickling you, more than touching, yet you reacted all the same. The soft sign, a small buck of your hips before you settled again. The second stroke, Eddie laid on a more firm touch—the soft fabric of your panties being the only barrier keeping two of Eddie’s fingers from actually plunging into your core—instead making him brush his fingers past your already leaking hole, feeling your plush lips before pressing harshly against your clit. 

You jumped, nearly knocking the back of your head into Eddie’s jaw, all while he laughed. “Still so sensitive, aren’t’ya?”

Digging your nails into the rubber still clutched in your hand, you teethed your bottom lip and nodded, “Feels good, Eds...”

“Good, that’s good,” Eddie whispered, voice so much lower and gravely, heavy with lust. He continued stroking your cunt through your panties, savoring every whimper and offering his own quiet groans with each shift of your ass against his cock. “S’good, my good girl, now, I’m gonna take your panties off, ok?”

“Okay, Eds...”

His hands curled around your thighs again, encouraging you to put your feet on his thighs to lift yourself, giving Eddie room to yank your panties down to your knees. You turned to bury your face against Eddie’s warm neck, and gave an embarrassed whimper at how the cotton clung to your wet cunt, having to literally be peeled away. 

“Now that’s a sight,” Eddie whistled, “Barely even touched you, an’ you’re fuckin’ soaked.”

“Eddie, don't be mean.”

“Not bein’ mean, princess,” Eddie promised. “It’s a good thing. Gonna make the next step easier.”

You’d need it, anyways, with what Eddie had planned. Although, he did plan for the event you wouldn’t be wet enough, and with one hand he blindly reached for the half used bottle of lube he kept wedged between his mattress and the box spring. With his experience hands, Eddie managed to pop the lid with one hand, while grabbing your wrist, pulling your hand—and the toy—to the side, and more in his view so he could drizzle a generous amount of lube onto the silicon. 

“Now, rub it in.” Eddie demanded, releasing your wrist and collecting another glob of lube onto two fingers, that quickly disappeared between your legs again and painting the slippery liquid across your cunt, mixing it with your own arousal. “Get it nice’n’wet for me, princess.”

You obeyed, smoothing your palm from the base to tip of the dildo, slicking up its length.

Eddie thought the way your nose scrunched, displeased with the sticky liquid, was adorable. But you listened to him, regardless. And that, deserved a reward. 

With the aid of your arousal and lube mixture, it couldn’t have been easier to slip two fingers into your throbbing core; Eddie waited, not moving an inch when he felt you tense—probably remembering the last time he’d tried fingering you—but with the lube, the slight stretch was barely noticed. With your pleased whimper sounding as loud as his amps as you moaned against his ear, Eddie was more than happy to take that as a sign. 

Eddie immediately began curling his fingers, stroking your inner walls while searching for that magic button within you. Enjoying every shriek of pleasure you gave, Eddie huffed a small laugh. thumbing at your clit. 

“D-don’t laugh at me...” You whined, teething at the skin of his throat. 

“’m not laughing at you, princess, I’m happy,” Eddie swore, feeling your pussy clench around his fingers at your favorite pet name. “Fuck—just happy, you’re doing so well for me—taking my fingers so well. Gonna make you cum, then you’re gonna take that toy just as good as you’re taking me, right, baby?”

Eddie’s voice, rumbling deep in his chest and vibrating against your back. His fingers buried in your cunt, he was ridiculously quick to abuse your g-spot the second he felt the tip of his fingers brushing the soft nerves inside you. 

It was all too much, way too fast. 

“Oh god—” You breathed out, sloppily trying to thrust your hips in time with his fingers.

Eddie’s lips pressed against your temple, “Feel good, princess? You like my fingers? Hm? Feel me, deep in your sweet, little pussy?”

A strangled moan, and your ass grinding back against his bulge was the only reply you could manage.

“If you like this,” Eddie mused, “Just wait until I’m actually fucking you—I think you’d be dick drunk so quickly—you won’t know what to do when you’re not under me, being stretched open, fucked out...”

It was almost amusing, watching you cum. He’d always figured you’d be a loud, sputtering mess. Eddie was surprised, how quiet it actually was. The only real sign, the way your pussy suddenly tightened, spasming around his fingers while you tossed your head back against his shoulder—a final gasp before your mouth fell open in a silent cry, legs twitching as a fresh gush of liquid met Eddie’s fingers. 

Eddie continued to gently finger you through your high. Slowing his pace until you fully relaxed against him; withdrawing his fingers with an audible squelch.

You wrinkled your nose against when Eddie used the same hand covered in lube and your cum to slick your hair back from your sweaty forehead before curling it around your jaw, tilting your face so he could claim your lips. Smothering you in a sloppy, heat filled kiss. 

“How d’you feel, princess? Feel as good as you looked?” Eddie panted against your lips, giving your bottom lip a teasing nip. “Looked like somethin’ out a damned porno, pretty little thing...”

“Feels amazing,” Your throat was dry as a desert, all your open mouthed panting didn’t help you any. Regardless, the smile you gave Eddie, could have lit up the night sky as far as he was concerned. “C-can we do it again?”

Eddie snorted.

“Again? Already? I can tell you’re going to be insatiable, but—” Eddie smirked, and smoothed his right hand down your arm until his palm enveloped your hand, that still clutched your new toy so hard your knuckles were turning white. “I think it’s time for this.”

Eddie led both your hands back to your core, and guided you to rub the tip of the dildo against your opening.

You jumped, still so sensitive from recently cuming. Eddie’s left hand curled around your hip, fingers digging into the soft skin.

“Just breathe, princess.” Eddie told you, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hip as he encouraged you to put a small amount of pressure at the end of the dildo. The mushroom head disappearing between your puffy lips. He wanted for you to suck in a chest full of air, before pressing on.

With some effort, Eddie could quite literally feel the pop! of the head slipping through your tight opening for the first time. Coupled with the sharp cry you gave, your free hand clutching at his arm, Eddie was sure he was close to just busting in his pants. 

But tonight wasn’t about him, Eddie had to take care of you first. 

“Good girl,” He cooed, “How’s that feel?” “Tight.” You whined, fighting to wiggle against the odd feeling. “I don-I don't know how to say it, just feels...tight.”

“Tight is okay,” Eddie nodded, feeling the shake in your hand and made sure to keep your hold steady, as to not move the toy again before you were ready. “But it doesn't hurt, right?”

You shook your head. 

“Good, good, that's what I need’a hear.” Eddie smiled. “D’you think you can take some more for me?”

With another lung full of air, you nodded, “Yeah, I can do it, Eds.”

Eddie continued to guide your hand, feeling your fingers clenching the silicon, digging your nails into it as he eased more of the dildo inside you. Every inch that disappeared inside, Eddie pulled it back out slightly, reciting the rubber in your fluids before easing it further. 

Your moans, strained and breathy, filled the air again. Eddie continued to whisper small praises and encouragements in your ear. 

Finally, Eddie had the base, and your joined hands, pressed against your core; every inch of the silicon now hidden within you. He let you get used to the feeling, getting accustom to the length splitting you open that, hopefully, would soon be replaced with Eddie’s actual cock. 

All of a sudden, Eddie knocked your hand off the dildo and took complete control. No longer trapped, you let yourself reach back, loosely twisting your fingers in Eddie’s wild hair. 

Now, Eddie began the real fun. Fully withdrawing the dildo until only the tip was resting inside you, he still so carefully thrusted it back in. 

You moaned together—you, at the dildo bottoming out once again, and Eddie, from your fingers twisting in his hair yanking at the pressure in your core. 

Your hips rolled experimentally, moving in time with Eddie’s thrusts.

“Just imagine,” Eddie said, “How good it’s going to feel when I’m the one filling this pretty pussy. Warm, soft—not like this cold, hard, rubber—I’ll be the real deal.”

Another yank on his hair had Eddie hissing, softly grinding into your ass as best as he could from his position underneath you. “You like that, right? Want it to be me inside you right now, don’t you? I don’t think you’ll ever use this thing again after me.”

“Please,” You begged, choking on your moan when Eddie started setting a new pace, quickly pulling the dildo from your body only to force it back inside you. You could feel and hear the slap the fake balls made against your weeping core. 

“What, princess? Are you close, already?”

“It just—I—it feels s’good—I feel weir—dont stop!” 

“I’m not stopping, angel, don’t worry.” Eddie’s grip on your hip tightened, attempting to push and pull your body—desperate for some form of release—he half-rocked you against his bulge while half-pushing your body in time with the dildo pushing back into your aching cunt. 

The small amount of pleasure on his hand almost had him rolling his eyes back into his head, but Eddie would rather die than miss any second of this—of you—the way your stomach clenched, Eddie was certain your pussy was doing the same and he yearned to be inside you to feel it instead of this toy. 

Eddie wrapped one arm around your waist, trying to stabilize you as your back arched against him. Your hips bucking wildly as a new, blinding heat spread through you as a cord you’d never felt before curled around itself before suddenly snapping—a quite literal flood gate bursting in you. 

Collapsing back against Eddie’s chest, your heavy breathing the only thing you could hear over the ringing in your ears as Eddie slowly pulled the soaked toy from your used core, dropping it against his mattress. He instantly missed your quiet whimpers and breathless moans but that was immediately overshadowed, absolute awe painting across his face, “Holy fuck.”

Blinking through the aftershock, you became aware of the mass amount of wetness beneath you.

Your panties, pushed down to your knees, see-through. 

Thighs so wet, you looked as if you’d just come from a shower. Eddie’s black pants somehow a shade darker, completely wet from the waist to his knees. 

Eddie’s hand literally dripping with your release. 

"Jesus, fuck—” Eddie swore. His eyes darted all over—from his fingers, to your fucked out pussy, to you—who had pulled the neckline of your shirt over your chin in an attempt to hide from his eyes. “That was—princess, you just squirted--that-that was so fucking hot.”

“H-hot?” You gasped, looking from your mess to Eddie’s glazed over eyes. “That was hot?”

“Princess, you can’t imagine how hard I am right now.” Eddie sucked in a shaky breath through clenched teeth. “Can’t wait for next time, I’m gonna make you squirt just like that—but on my cock, instead.” 

aka how those stains got on his bed

[starberryes]

don't you (forget about me) | steve harrington x reader

“Oh, great, she’s here,” Steve says, stepping away from the door.  "First of all, Harrington," You scoff, glaring at that mop of hair with all the rage you can muster. "I have a name. Second of all, we are talking here—” Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever—" "You did not just roll your eyes at me—” Dustin sighs. "Here they go." (or: You've always thought Steve Harrington was a weirdo. When you find out you might be in terrible danger, he might be just what you need.)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader (she/her pronouns used), lots of henderson siblings bonding <3

words: 13.9k

a/n: gif by @dailysteveharrington. thank you all for being patient and i hope you all like it<3 i loved this season and i love steve so i hope you enjoy this lil enemies to lovers fic. this fic is a one shot, but let me know if you'd like a sequel once vol 2 is out bc its a bit of an open, ambiguous ending ;) also some fun facts before this fic starts: dustin's dad appears at will's funeral in s1 and there are several theories about him-- officially, he and dustin's mother are divorced in canon. i'll explore that in this fic. ST4 SPOILERS. this is set in season 4 ep 3 "the monster and the superhero" and follows vol 1 canon also sorry if this doesnt follow canon pretty well i mostly did it from memory cause the wiki still isnt fully updated 💀

disclaimer: this fic discusses the topic of an absent parent, please proceed with caution if this is hurtful to you. also warning for canon typical violence and cursing. english is not my first language so please let me know if there are any mistakes.

📼 NOW PLAYING: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Mind

Your mother had always been slightly overbearing and fearful, but the murder of Chrissy Cunnigham you think might actually kill her. Or at least will force her to lock you in your bedroom and flush the key down the toilet.

“You can’t go anywhere without telling me,” your mother tells you over breakfast, worriedly overcooking her bacon. “You hear me? I don’t want you running around town without me knowing. Or better yet, don’t go anywhere at all!”

You glare at Dustin’s chair, where your brother is munching on toast and eggs, hoping your mother takes the hint. She does, and so she shakes her head and says, “Dustin’s different.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Maybe this killer has a thing for pretty girls,” your mother shakes her head, shivering. “Chrissy Cunningham was such a nice and pretty girl, right your age.”

“You don’t know what that killer was thinking!” You groan. “Why can Dustin leave but I can’t?!”

“Dustin’s not an eighteen year old girl with an easily breakable neck.”

“He’s easier to man-handle!”

Dustin frowns, finally looking up from his breakfast. “I’m not!”

”Besides, do you even know where he was last night?” You ignore your brother’s protests, choosing to point at him as he scoffs in offense. “I bet you don’t, because he’s always sneaking out!”

“I’m not always sneaking out!”

“I try my best with you, Dusty,” she sighs, finally sitting down. “But your sister is right, you’re difficult to keep track of. You’re always running around, like those little legs have minds of their own.” She points the spoon she was using for her coffee at your face. “Don’t you throw that in my face, (Y/N).”

“Mom, you’re right,” you nod, sipping your orange juice, trying to appeal to her soft spot. “He is difficult to keep track off, and there’s a dangerous killer on the loose. How about I keep track of him? Make sure he’s not getting into any trouble, hm? I’ll make sure we’re always safe, together.”

Of course, you were planning on bolting as soon as you were out of your mom’s sight. You mom’s cat Tews meows somewhere across the room, as if he knows not to trust you. That damned furball.

“What the fuck? No!”

“Dusty! Language.”

“Mom,” Dustin says, exasperated. “I don’t need a babysitter. Much less a babysitter that’s also my annoying older sister.”

“No, you have Steve Harrington for that,” you mutter under your breath, and Dustin manages to kick you under the table. You glare at your little brother, then turn to address your mom once again. “I promise we’ll stay together. I know— no, I understand that it’s scary out there right now, but I can take care of myself. And Dustin. You have to trust me.”

“I trust you. It’s the murderer I don’t trust.”

“Mom—”

“Let me finish,” she stares pointedly at you, and you promptly shut up. “I don’t want you two sneaking out. But, it’ll make me feel better if the both of you are together.”

Dustin covers his face with his hands. “Shit.”

“Yes!” You squeal. You stick out your tongue at him, and he rolls his eyes. “Guess you’re stuck with me, Dusty.”

“Screw you.”

“Dusty, it’ll be fun. (Y/N), don’t taunt your little brother,” your mom scolds both of you into silence. “It’ll be like old times, won’t it? Aw, you two used to be thick as thieves back then.”

Dustin sighs, picking at his toast absent-mindedly. “Was there a murderer on the loose back then too?”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

After breakfast, you give Dustin a ride until you arrive in a neighborhood that is most definitely not Lucas Sinclair’s like he told you it would be. You turn to stare at your brother before you unlock the car’s door, confused.

“Where are we?”

Dustin looks at your shoes. “I told you. Lucas’s.”

“Okay, you might lie to me whenever you want, just not to my actual face, Dustin.” You roll your eyes, and he mirrors you. “Seriously, why did you make me come all the way down here?”

“Why do you care?”

“I know we’re doing this to get mom off our backs, but there is actually a killer on the loose,” you say. “So, excuse me if I’m also a little wary about dropping you off at unknown locations, or whatever.”

“Fine,” Dustin sighs. “I’m here to see Max and Steve.”

“Steve?”

“Harrington.”

You blink at him. “Fucking Steve Harrington?”

“See?” Dustin rolls his eyes again. “This is why I didn’t tell you! You are extremely uncool about Steve, you know.”

“I’m not!” You try not to dwell about how defensive you sound even to yourself. “I’m extremely cool about him. I’m extremely cool about the fact you hang out with that douchebag with stupid hair.”

“He’s not a douchebag! I don’t get why you hate him so much.”

Because you remember him and his friends making fun of you all throughout High School, his sneering and stupid stares. Like your brother, you’d never fit in— you never liked going to parties or drinking and you never made an effort to be liked by him and his group of popular dorks, instead you spent most of your days in the library, reading, hiding from Steve and his friends. Whatever honorable things Dustin saw in Steve Harrington you think he might have imagined them.

Now, in your last year of High School and with Steve becoming a social pariah, you don’t have to hide the fact that you still dislike Steve as much as you did back when he was still King Steve. Steve, for however much Dustin insists that he’s changed, upon first meeting you had tried to sweet talk you as if he didn’t know who you were. And you had barely kept it together enough to tell him to fuck off. Ever since then, you and Steve Harrington had hated each other’s guts. Your mutual dislike of each other is not lost on Dustin, who continues to mostly ignore it and tiptoe around it as best as he can.

“He’s not not a douchebag,” You murmur. “Why is he hanging out with two fourteen year olds during spring break? Isn’t the barf bag, like, supposed to be in college, going to frat parties, having a life of his own?”

Dustin doesn’t appreciate the way you talk about him, clearly, but he still replies, albeit unhappily. “He’s helping me with something.”

“With what?”

Before Dustin can respond, someone knocks on Dustin’s window. You jump, surprised, but it’s just Steve and Dustin’s friend redhead Max, looking bored and impatient. You groan and reach over Dustin’s seat to roll the window down.

“Do you mind?” You say to Steve. “We’re talking.”

“Oh, great, she’s here,” Steve says, stepping away from the door. 

"First of all, Harrington," You scoff, glaring at that mop of hair with all the rage you can muster. You ignore Dustin’s groan. "I have a name. Second of all, we are talking here—”

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever—"

"You did not just roll your eyes at me—”

Dustin sighs. "Here they go."

“I did not roll my eyes—”

“You absolutely did!”

“There was something in my eyes.”

“That something was lies!”

“Jesus fuck,” Steve finally throws his arms up in exasperation and turns to your brother, ignoring your insults. “You done talking to your lovely sister there, Henderson? We got a counselor to see.”

“What?” You frown at Dustin, irritation immediately melting into concern. “What’s he talking about?”

“Steve, shut your mouth,” Dustin glares at Steve, who shrugs and finally steps away from the car. “Nothing, (Y/N), seriously. See you later?”

“No.” You shake your head. “What does he mean a counselor? Are you seeing Ms Kelly?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise. It’s—” he looks like he’s scrambling to think of an excuse, then his eyes land on Max. Something flashes across her face and she speaks next.

“It’s for me.” she says, “Chrissy died in my neighborhood.”

“She’s kind of freaking out,” Dustin says, and when you finally turn to look at Max you realize how tense she is, her shoulders square, with her lips forming a straight line.

“Oh. That sucks. Hey, Max.”

“Hey,” she greets, awkwardly. It’s part of her charm, you think.

“See?” Dustin asks. “Can I go now?”

You nod, a little shaken up for some reason. Maybe Chrissy’s murder still made you feel slightly ill, and the mention of it made you feel even worse. You couldn’t imagine what Max might be going through. It didn’t help that they had found another body this morning, either. 

“Ye— yeah. Sorry. I hope everything’s alright, Max.”

“Yeah,” she nods.

Dustin nods to the door. “Can you unlock the car, then?”

You wordlessly comply, and as your little brother steps out of your mom’s blue Ford Cortina, you talk to Max once again. “Ms Kelly is great help. I’m sure she’ll make you feel better. She really helped me this year, you know, she’s a great listener.”

“Yeah, I know,” Max says. “I’ve been thinking about seeing her for a while, a—actually. I’ve heard she’s well… you know… fine, or whatever.”

“Hey, there’s no shame in that,” you shrug. “Lots of people go to see Ms Kelly… Actually, now that you mention it, Fred Benson, the guy they found this morning, was seeing Ms Kelly too. And Chrissy Cunningham.”

Dustin pauses before closing the car door. “What do you mean?”

You blink, slightly confused as to why you’d even bring it up. “I’ve seen them in Ms Kelly’s office before. I’m not sure why I’m even mentioning it, sorry.”

“No, no, (Y/N), that’s…” Dustin says, then doesn’t finish. “You’ve been seeing Ms Kelly too?”

“Yeah,” you nod, a little ashamed. You think about telling Dustin about everything that’s been going on, the nightmares, the guilt— but then you glance at his friends looking expectantly at him and cower. So you don’t continue.

It’s Steve who breaks the silence. “Henderson, chop chop, let’s go.”

“I’ll see you at home?” Dustin says, a little softer.

“Yeah, yeah. I was gonna go to Dinah’s near Ave Park, but do you think you’ll need a ride later?”

“Steve’s got his car,” he says. “Don’t wait up, okay?”

You nod, watching him leave.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

It’s around eight PM, and Dinah is painting her toenails as you skim through one of her books, the soft hum of the TV in the background, entering through the open bedroom door. Her parents are watching the news, the news anchors are urging people to stay home and to lock their doors to be safe of this new serial killer.

Dinah’s house is your usual hangout spot beside your own. You don’t have many other friends, and there’s only so many times you can force Dustin to watch The Breakfast Club before he’s fighting you for the remote.

“It was all Matty could talk about,” Dinah continues to rant. “I can’t stand this murder talk any longer! I can only hear about Chrissy Cunningham’s missing eyeballs so many times, (Y/N), it’s way too fucking gruesome, but it’s all everyone in this town seems to care about.”

“It’s a pretty pressing issue,” when Dinah glares, you shrug. “I’m just saying! You know I agree with you. I don’t want to hear about it anymore.”

“Chrissy was always so nice, wasn’t she?” Dinah shakes her head, putting her nail polish back in her nightstand, then wraps her arms around her legs, hugging herself. “And Fred had a future in front of him. It’s so unfair. They had a family that loved them.”

“Dinah, I really don’t wanna talk about it,” you say, feeling yourself shiver. You don’t want to think about poor Fred or Chrissy, or the families mourning them. You try to focus on the book in your hands, but the words start blurring together, becoming harder and harder to read. 

You blink, confused, then realize Dinah is still talking.

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? I think about their dads too. Chrissy’s dad was crying so much at her wake. Do you think your dad would ever cry for you like that?”

You finally snap to look back at your friend. She’s staring at you like you’re small, like an insect she could stomp on. You’ve never seen her black eyes seem so soulless, so empty.

“Maybe they’ll be tears of joy, don’t you think? After all, weren’t you the one who made him walk away?” She tilts her head to the side, a sneer forming in her lips. “They could be a family without you.”

There’s something wrong in Dinah’s eyes. There’s something wrong about all of this, but you can’t point to what, where are you, when, why…what…?

When you blink, Dinah’s eyes look normal again. 

“(Y/N),” She asks, frowning. “Are you there?”

You shake your head. What the fuck was all that? 

“What?”

“You were staring at me like you weren’t all here,” she explains, grimacing. “Where did you go just now?”

“Sorry…” When you speak you feel a dull ache around your temple, and you lift a hand to rest against it, trying to soothe the pain aimlessly. “I think I need some painkillers or something, my head’s killing me.”

“Again?” 

“Yeah,” even before spring break you had confided in your friend about the headaches and the nightmares— you never told her why, but she at least knew you were seeing Ms Kelly. 

Dinah stands up, careful not to stain the carpet with her fresh black nail polish. “I’ll ask my dad for some Tylenol. Stay here, I’ll be back in a sec.”

Before Dinah is out the door she’s interrupted by the doorbell, which rings once, twice, three times and more. Dinah frowns, as her dad yells I’m coming, Jesus!

“Someone’s impatient…” you murmur, hand still resting on your temple.

“Hey,” Dinah, who has always had great hearing, says. “I think it’s your brother.”

You frown, and when Dinah’s father confirms it’s your brother by yelling out that It’s little Henderson!, you and Dinah head downstairs to find a heavy breathing Dustin, Max, Lucas and even Steve Harrington, looking as if they just ran a marathon.

Dustin’s eyes land on you. “(Y/N)!”

“Dustin?” you say, “What are you doing here? You need a ride ho—?”

Dustin runs to hug you by the waist, almost knocking the air out of you.

“Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Is your nose bleeding? Do you feel—?”

“Woah, Dustin,” you don’t know what to do with your hands— you and Dustin hadn’t hugged since he turned twelve and he and you both deemed it lame. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Dustin finally lets go of your waist to grab you by the face and inspect it properly. He roughly pulls your face down and tries to pull up your nose to look at your nostrils. “No nosebleed yet?”

Steve tries to stop him. “Dustin, buddy—”

Lucas adds a sustancial, “Dude.”

“Dustin!” you push his hands off your face, feeling your cheeks heat up when you notice everyone looking at you. “What the hell are you doing?”

Your brother opens his mouth to speak, but then seems to notice Dinah behind you and seems to think better of it. “We need to talk,” he says instead, “Like, right now.”

“Right now?” You ask. “I already told Dinah’s mom I’m staying for dinner. Dustin, what the hell is going on with you?”

Dinah clears her throat. “I’m… just gonna go get that Tylenol.”

“Tylenol?” Dustin asks when she walks away. “What for?”

“I have a headache.”

“Shit,” Max says, still by the door frame with Lucas and Steve.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dustin curses, deep in thought. “It’s already started.”

“What?” You ask as Dustin starts pacing back and forth.

“We need to find out how to stop this right fucking now,” Dustin starts pacing back and forth. “Think, everyone.”

“Maybe Robin and Nancy found something in the library,” Steve offers.

“Yeah,” Lucas nods. “C’mon, man. Let’s go find them.”

“Okay, yeah. Okay, okay.” Dustin calms himself down, manages to stop his pacing. “Let’s go wait for them at the Wheeler’s. (Y/N), let’s go.”

You throw your hands up in disbelief.  “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?”

“(Y/N),” Dustin says, his voice unfaltering. Dustin is never serious about much, and this renders you speechless. “I need you to listen to me for once in your goddamn life, okay? We need to go. Now.”

“Okay, Jesus,” you say finally. “Dinah’s mom is making Lasagna so this better be worth it, Dustin.”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

On the way to Nancy Wheeler’s house, you learn two things: One, Dustin knows where a serial killer might be hiding, and two, your brother thinks you’re cursed and are going to die in, give or take, twenty four hours.

You glare at Steve Harrington in the rearview mirror. “What the fuck have you been giving him?”

“I’m serious!” Dustin yells. “I knew you wouldn’t fucking believe me.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, because he looks genuinely frustrated, but a second dimension and a supervillain? Does your brother think you’re stupid? Just how many movies has he been watching? “I just think D&D might actually be getting to your head, Dustin. There’s no way what you just told me is real.”

“Lucas and Max know it’s real too!”

Both of them nod furiously.

“Are the other two fourteen year olds your only source?”

“Steve too!”

Steve winks at you through the rearview mirror.

“Even worse,” you say.

“Listen,” Lucas tries to reason when Dustin groans in frustration, cursing under his breath at you. “I know this sounds absolutely crazy, I wouldn’t believe it either. But I promise you it’s all true, and if we don’t do something soon about it you’ll end up like Chrissy and Fred.”

An involuntary chill runs down your spine every time you think about them. 

“Guys,” you say, slowly, “I know things are scary right now, but I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for the murders besides a demon supervillain.”

“I didn’t believe it at first either,” Max shakes her head. “Not until I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Didn’t Ms Kelly’s file say the others who were cursed were also having hallucinations?” Steve asks the kids, looking for a place to park. “So, have you gotten any weird visions lately?”

Hallucinations? You think back, but can’t seem to pinpoint anything similar to that. Except tonight at Dinah’s place, before Dustin and the rest had rung the doorbell. Suddenly you grow a little paler, uncomfortable at the memory being brought back. That had been weird, but you were exhausted and knowing a serial killer, Eddie Munson, who apparently your brother knew, was out there still was making you restless.

“I wouldn’t really call them visions,” you murmur.

“Shit,” Dustin breathes, looking at you with wide eyes. “It’s spreading faster.”

“Listen, Dustin, I may be going through some shit lately, but I promise you I’m okay. I just need some painkillers for my head, seriously.”

“(Y/N)!” Your brother takes you by the shoulders and shakes you. “Your life is in imminent danger! You don’t need painkillers!”

“I do if you keep shaking me like a ragdoll!”

“Listen,” Lucas says, grabbing Dustin and prying him off you despite his protests. “Just stay with us tonight, okay? We’ll sleep at the Wheeler’s and it’ll make Dustin feel better, right? We’re all tired.”

“Dude—”

Lucas cuts Dustin off and whispers, “We’ll wait for what Nancy and Robin have to say and then figure out how to convince her later, yeah?”

Dustin sighs. “This was so much easier when El had her powers.”

“So yeah? You’ll stay the night?” Lucas asks, hopeful.

You see all three of the kids staring at you and cave in. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” You say, at the same time Steve parks right in front of the Wheeler residence. Before you can even step out of the car another car pulls over by the garage and Nancy Wheeler and another girl you don’t know step out of it.

“Nance, Robin!” Steve exclaims as he stops the car and steps out. “Had fun at the library? I sure didn’t.”

“It went well, I think—”

“We have a situation,” Dustin is quick to interrupt, reaching over your space and popping his head out from the open window. “It’s my sister. We think Vecna cursed her.”

“Whatever that means,” you mumble, getting out of the car, Dustin trailing behind you and slamming the door shut.

“She doesn’t believe us,” Max explains.

“Well, I personally would be more weirded out if she did,” The girl you don’t know shrugs a little. You recognize her now— she worked with Steve at Scoops Ahoy last summer before the fire at Starcourt, and now works at Family Video. You’ve spoken a bit with her before.

“She’s been having visions, headaches, nosebleeds,” Dustin continues, “like Fred and Chrissy were, according to Ms Kelly’s files. I think Vecna is preying on vulnerable people, people dealing with...” he looks at you for a second, then back at the girls, settling on saying: “Some shit.”

“We found some articles about Victor Creel at the library,” Nancy says, then motions at the house with her chin. “Let’s talk inside.”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

Nancy and Robin turn out to be as crazy as the rest of them— they tell the story of Victor Creel, infamous in Hawkins for murdering his entire family, and about how he was supposedly possesed by the devil according to some conspiracy newspaper. They want to talk to Victor, but the problem is that he’s now a patient at Pennhurst Mental Hospital and completely unreachable to the public. They plan to go first thing in the morning and the rest of the group seems to agree. 

“We’ll need a disguise,” is Nancy’s big plan.

You never quite get that Tylenol, because the strongest thing Ms Wheeler has is green tea. You think everyone’s lost their goddamned minds.

“So what do you want me to do while all of you plan?” You ask, sitting on the couch. Nancy and Robin leave to Nancy’s room. Max and Lucas are by the desk in the corner speaking softly, Dustin is pacing around the room impatiently as he usually does when he’s this restless, while Steve is sitting on the couch beside you, playing with Dustin’s (or is it Mike’s?) walkie-talkie. “Am I allowed to eat something? Because I’m starving.”

Dustin snatches the walkie-talkie from Steve’s hand. “You’re gonna break that.”

Dustin’s, then.

“We don’t know yet,” Lucas says, walking over to where you are, holding Max’s hand gently. “We’re hoping the girls find out something from Victor. In the meantime…”

“You can eat,” Steve concludes. “... Right?”

“Right,” Max nods.

“We have to do something soon,” Dustin’s the most anxious you’ve ever seen him, even before you took him to see The Empire Strikes Back. “We don’t know how much time you even have once the visions and all the hallucinations start. We said twenty four hours but we can’t be sure.”

“If it helps, they started today. At Dinah’s.”

“You snapped out of it, right?” When you nod, Steve shrugs. “Henderson, I think we have time to order some pizza, at least.”

“And a movie?” You ask, finally relaxing into the couch. You toss away your shoes and hug them to your chest. “Does Mike have The Breakfast Club somewhere around here?”

“Not that movie again,” Dustin groans.

You throw a pillow at your brother, who manages to dodge it easily. “It’s a great movie!”

“It lost its charm after the thirteen time you forced me to watch it with you.”

“The Breakfast Club?” Steve asks aloud. “(Y/N) Henderson is obsessed with The Breakfast Club? Is that why Dustin is always renting it at Family Video?”

Dustin huffs, offended. “Why else would I want to rent that stupid movie?”

“Molly Ringwald,” Steve answers, at the same time you yell out, “It’s not stupid!”

When Nancy comes downstairs she informs you that sadly no, she doesn’t have The Breakfast Club, but that she should. She does have the soundtrack, however, and you think about asking to borrow it tomorrow before she goes back upstairs to order a pizza.

A while later it’s almost midnight, everyone around you is tired, except maybe for Dustin, but the majority wins and you all decide getting some sleep is the best option. You agree, but know that you’re probably not getting any sleep tonight, either; you’ve been having nightmares every night for the past few days and you don’t believe today is going to be any different.

When the lights go off and everyone is already starting to doze off, Dustin is quick to turn his flashlight on.

“Dude! Turn that off!” Steve moans, launching a pillow straight into his face. Dustin doesn’t dodge this one this time, much to Robin and Steve’s satisfaction, who chuckle lightly.

“C’mon, Dustin, what the hell?” Lucas groans.

“Shut up! I’m trying to see if I can find something else in Ms Kelly’s files!”

“Dude,” Max sighs, “you’ve read them each four times already.” 

“You won’t be able to find anything if you’re exhausted,” Nancy tries more softly. “Just try to sleep for a bit, okay?”

“Dustin, c’mon,” you reach for his hand— it’s a bit uncomfortable from your position on the couch and his on the floor, but you do it anyway. That seems to soothe him slightly, to see you still offering comfort, like you’re still yourself. He manages a weak nod, and he squeezes your hand slightly before turning the flashlight off.

After a few minutes, Dustin starts snoring loudly. Steve, who you’re unfortunately stuck sharing the couch with, chuckles.

“He’s a good kid,” he says.

“Yeah,” you can’t help but agree. You wouldn’t trade your dork brother for anything. “He’s great. When he was little, he used to wet his bed all time after watching scary movies with me, and he’d wake me up to change his sheets so my dad wouldn’t yell at him for ruining them.”

“Steve raises a silent eyebrow at you, sounding amused. “And you actually did that?”

“I forced him to watch them. I felt bad,” you smile at the memory. “He would offer to wash the dishes for me, though.”

“Your moral compass is stronger than mine,” he hums.

“You know, he…” you start, unsure if Dustin would be upset if you shared this, then decide it’s not as embarrassing as telling him he used to wet his bed, and continue, “he really admires you. God knows why, Harrington, but he worships the ground you walk on.”

“Henderson?” He asks, a little in disbelief. “I don’t know—”

“I’m serious, Harrington. He loves you,” You hoped you didn’t sound jealous. There had been a time where you thought Steve was almost a replacement for you as an older sibling, but as time went on you realized how important Steve was to him. 

“Well. I’m pretty loveable.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure.”

“He’s pretty loveable, too,” Steve says after a few beats of silence, more softly now. “I don’t have any siblings, did you know that? So it’s… uhm, really cool to have him around. Even if he’s kind of a little shit sometimes.”

“Such a little shit,” you agree.

The rest of the group seems to be asleep already, or maybe they don’t care about the conversation enough to join you. Steve starts telling you about the time Dustin burrowed his hair gel and almost set fire to his bathroom, and you have to cover your mouth to stifle your giggles.

It’s not long before you start to feel abnormally cold, and can’t keep your body from trembling. Steve’s gentle voice is gone. The room is dark around you, and realizing that you must’ve fallen asleep while talking with Steve at some point, you hug yourself trying to seek some warmth. You try to grab a blanket from somewhere. Jesus, it’s spring for fuck’s sake, it shouldn’t be this cold. But you realize that despite the darkness you can see, and when you look up at the ceiling, you find a grandfather clock that most definitely doesn’t belong in the Wheeler’s basement.

“(Y/N).”

The voice calling your name is unfamiliar and it makes you feel ill almost immediately, like your stomach has turned into nothing but knots. You try to speak, to ask who it is, but nothing comes out, you can barely even breathe.

“Do you think you could ever keep living with this guilt?” The voice asks, somehow you feel as if the voice is right behind you, whispering into your ear. It’s like nails scraping against chalkboard in your eardrums. “Knowing what you did to your family?”

You want to turn around and find the voice, but you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. The clock is ticking, haunting you, calling for you. You want nothing but to run away from it, but you can’t move— you’re glued in place somehow, maybe in fear, you can’t tell. Everything is uncertain, except for the clock. The clock, you know, it’s real. 

It’s counting down. You know what it’s trying to tell you. It’s coming for you and you can’t escape it. It’s only a matter of time now.

“Soon, (Y/N)...” It whispers. “Soon, I’ll come for you, and no one will be able to help you, (Y/N)... (Y/N). (Y/N)!”

You open your eyes with a gasp to find Steve’s arms around your shoulders, shaking you slightly. His eyes are wide, a little frightened. When you look around you find Lucas and Max draped all over a chair, their chests rising slowly, asleep. Dustin is in a sleeping bag on the floor, near Robin and Nancy, hugging each other tightly in their sleep. Steve is the only one awake.

“Shit,” you say, placing your hand in your heart. “Did I wake you?”

“We were talking and then you just went somewhere,” he says. “You don’t remember?”

You suddenly feel very cold. “I thought I was sleeping. I saw…” You think about telling Steve, but it seems pointless now, almost. What would you tell him? You saw a clock? “I think it was one of those hallucinations you guys keep talking about. You’re really freaking me the hell out, you know.”

“Fuck, I think Dustin’s right,” he says.

“About me being cursed by a being from another dimension? Are you kidding?”

Steve does manage to look apologetic. “I know it sounds bonkers, but that’s because it is. I’ve seen it.”

“What? This other dimension?” You were starting to think Dustin and his nanny were just trying to play an extremely elaborate joke on you.

“The Upside Down, but no,” he shakes his head, and then his eyes land somewhere around the room, focusing on one of Mike’s many posters. “The monsters.”

“Vecna?” 

“Others,” he says, then murmurs, “Haven’t had the pleasure just yet.”

“The demoger…? What was it?”

“Demogorgon, yeah,” he grumbles. “The Mind flayer too. It’s all real. I wish Will and Eleven were here to actually explain this stuff; they are the ones who actually know their stuff about this.”

You have never seen Steve actually sound so… serious, before. It’s all actually starting to freak you out, you decide, and you aren’t sure if you actually want to find out if it’s all actually real or not. You stay silent for a few moments, sleep escaping you. You figure Steve’s fallen asleep until his voice startles you again.

“You okay there, Henderson?”

No, you want to say. You can’t shake the feeling that the voice is watching you, waiting to catch you by surprise. “Yeah,” you mumble, sleepless, scared.

Steve doesn’t seem to buy your answer however, because you feel his body shifting near your side of the couch, sitting right beside you. When you give him a look (he’s so close he can actually make it out) he clicks his tongue.

“See, I don’t really believe you, Henderson. So, I’m gonna stay near you, just in case you get another vision. Or if you want to hold my hand.”

“Screw you, Steve,” You glare, turning to the other side so that your view is Harrington-less. If you do feel better with him beside you, that’s between you and maybe Vecna, if he’s actually inside your head.

In the morning, when you wake up and Nancy and Robin are both gone (probably visiting a murderer in a mental hospital) and Steve is tangled up beside you, you decide you’ve had enough. 

“So we’re just gonna wait around to see what happens?” Dustin argues, as Lucas and Max try to reason with him.

“What else can we do?” Lucas asks, frustrated.

“Literally anything else, dude! My sister might die!”

“Okay, Dustin, you need to stop and we need to go home, now,” you tell him, looking around the basement for your jacket.

“No!” he points at you. “You’re not going anywhere until we know what to do.”

“Dustin. I’m four years older than you,” you glare, placing your hands on your hips. “I’m the older sibling. I’ve entertained this enough already, but I left mom’s car at Dinah’s and we need to go get it and then get our asses home before mom loses her shit.”

“(Y/N)! Listen to me!”

“No, Dustin!” You finally snap, taking Dustin’s walkie-talkie from his hand and shoving it into your bag despite his protests. “I’ve had enough about monsters and other dimensions and whatever other nonsense Eddie Munson has been feeding you! We’re going home, now!”

“I can’t believe I’m actually trying to help you!” Dustin screams, “You suck!”

“Well, you’re stuck with me!”

“I wish I wasn’t,” he says, his eyes cold. “I wish you weren’t my sister.”

The chills return like a slap across your face, making you stumble backwards slightly. The room around you turns dark immediately, the only person left is Dustin in front of you. But it’s not him, it can’t be, his eyes have never looked this lifeless.

“You took his chance away, didn’t you?” The unfamiliar, bone chilling voice returns. “His chance of having a real family, or at least a father figure. He’s right in wishing you weren’t his sister. He deserves someone better.”

Again you want to scream, but it’s like your mouth is taped shut. Around you Mike Wheeler’s basement seems to fade away into blue, and suddenly you’re standing on your front porch, watching your dad walk away. You’re saying the hardness around your eyes, your lips drawn into a tight line. You don’t look like yourself; you look older, and tired, and disappointed, more like a woman than the girl you were when this happened, the girl you must’ve been.

“Don’t come back again,” you tell your father’s retreating form. But your voice is distorted, so far away. 

“How many times has Dustin needed his father?” The voice asks. When you blink you’re somewhere else; not Mike’s basement, not your home. There’s splinters of wood scattered by your feet, like a house just destroyed. Everywhere around you is red, like blood, like the blood in those horror movies you forced Dustin to watch because he made them less scary when he squealed. “Are you proud you broke up your family?”

“I was a kid,” you manage to say, and only now you realize you’ve been crying all along, the salty tears wetting your dry lips. “I didn’t want Dustin to know what he did. I would take it back if I knew he wouldn’t actually come back.”

“But you did it anyway. You did.”

I did, I did, I did, you think, over and over. You close your eyes, hard, ignoring how it almost hurts.

“You miss him too, don’t you? Despite everything. You’re sadder about the fact that he left you, too. He left his daughter behind.”

“Who are you?” You hiss out, through your anguish.

“I’m part of you, (Y/N). Whether you want to or not.”

You’re not alone. When you open your eyes you see him — a monster, vicious even in looks, like someone slowly peeled away his skin, and all that was left of him was muscle and meat, not even blood. Vecna. Around you there are two different bloody columns, and you’re quick to notice they’re holding Chrissy and Fred’s bodies, like morbid museum displays, tokens. He was right, Dustin was telling the truth about everything, and now you were going to die because you didn’t listen to him.

“No,” you want to say, you want to scream. But you’re not strong enough, you can’t—

Hey, hey, hey, hey

You blink through your tears. You manage to recognize that melody in this unfamiliar place. You want to run towards it, but you’re not sure your legs can even respond to your commands right now.

Vecna seems to think something’s wrong, too, because as the song progresses he grows more impatient. “You think you can escape like this?”

Tell me your troubles and doubts

Giving everything inside and out and

Love's strange, so real in the dark

Think of the tender things that we were working on

His hands— his claws are stroking your cheeks, an aborted tender gesture, like he’s trying to soothe his prey before going for the kill. It’s over, you think, there’s nothing but this certain death. But then; you think of the hundreds of times you forced Dustin to watch this movie with you; of you both playing with Tews until he scratches one of you in annoyance; driving Mike, Lucas, Dustin and Will to the movies; getting ice cream at Scoops Ahoy and guggling when Steve gets rejected once again; putting Dustin’s hair in braids and practicong makeup on him when he was younger; asking Will Byers what he was sketching at the park; Dustin and you laughing during dinner because of some stupid joke. You think about last night, sleeping beside Steve, and the way he made you laugh.

Don't you, forget about me

Don't, don't, don't, don't

Don't you, forget about me

You can’t give up. You can’t leave Dustin.

Somehow you manage to pull Vecna off you with a shove, and you run. You run, you run as fast as your legs let you, as your jeans stain with what looks like blood, as Vecna screams at you. You run like you've never run before.

And then you gasp and you’re falling.

“Shit, fuck, shit!” Someone’s arms are around you, and it takes you a second to calm down to realize it’s Steve, and that you’re in Mike Wheeler’s basement and you’re alive, somehow.

“Holy fucking shit,” Max is saying, but you can barely hear her over the rapid beating of your own heart— erratic, but unquestionably alive. 

“God, god, (Y/N),” Dustin’s voice stands out from the others, and when you look at him there are tears streaming down his eyes, and you can barely process anything before you’re trying to reach for him despite feeling like you’re not even in your own body.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, Steve letting go of yours. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“I thought you were gonna die,” he whimpers.

“I’m here,” you breathe out. “Oh my God, I’m here thanks to you.”

You realize that the song is still playing, only to notice the headphones in your ears. You see your scattered bag around the room, and the walkie-talkie that Dustin must’ve been looking for already on the floor. Don’t You (Forget About Me) slowly fades to an end before the next song on the soundtrack starts.

“I’m sorry,” Dustin says into your shirt. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were going through something, I should’ve noticed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You shake your head, holding your little brother even closer. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Fuck, Dustin, I’m so sorry.”

You stay like that for a moment, hugging Dustin on the carpet, Max and Lucas hovering near, and Steve’s hand on your shoulder, grounding you.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

When you explain to Nancy what happened and what you saw once she comes back from Pennhurst she’s quick to pinpoint the house you saw when you met Vecna as Victor Creel’s house. All of you grab your things and head to that location. You try to not feel so dreadful, and Dustin forcing you to listen to Don’t You the entire car ride and holding onto your jacket sleeve helps soothe your nerves, at least a little bit.

But Victor Creel’s house is something out of a horror story, dark and abandoned as it is, and the only light source in the house seems to be the hole Robin made when she smashed the window.

“Let’s split up,” Nancy offers, and everyone seems to comply much to your dismay.

Lucas and Max leave to investigate with Dustin (reluctantly parting from your side) trailing off behind them, Nancy and Robin head upstairs and you and Steve are stuck together and instructed to stay downstairs by Nancy, the only thing illuminating your way being your flashlights.

You wander through hallways, staring at ruined wallpaper and dusty portraits. Victor and his family seemed so happy in their pictures, and you wonder why nobody, family or not, ever came to look for their things. The house seemed frozen in time, like one day the family had decided to get up and leave everything behind, the house nothing more than ghosts.

“I hate this place,” you comment, trying to hug yourself tightly to keep the cold at bay. “Thinking that people died here is…”

“Horrible,” Steve finishes for you. “Yeah… Fuck this place, man.”

When you turn to a corner, you freeze in place.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re seeing this, right?” You point at a clock with your flashlight, unmoving. It’s the same clock from your visions, the one you saw before meeting Vecna.

“Yeah,” Steve frowns. “Real old. Why?”

“I saw it,” you try to explain through the rapid beating of your own heart. “In my visions, I mean. This clock was in them— well, the second one, mostly. In the Wheeler’s basement last night.”

“Shit…” Eloquent as ever, Steve Harrington. “Has to mean something, right?”

“If anything it proves Nancy and Robin were right. It all started here.” You finally force yourself to look away and continue forward, ignoring the way you feel your skin crawling. You hold up your cassette before re-starting the song.  “What would happen if I suddenly got tired of this song? Will it no longer work? Does this mean Vecna will… come back for me?”

“Listen, I— I’m not a genius at this like your brother, or like Nancy, or even Robin,” Steve admits, very honestly. “But I promise we’ll find a way, even if that happens. Besides, Dustin told us how much you love this song. Seems kinda impossible you’ll ever get tired of it if you listen to it every day. And listen, I gotta ask. Breakfast club?”

“What?” You feel heat rise up to your cheeks, embarrassed. You start walking away from the clock, trying to get rid of the chills that had gotten ahold of you just a few moments before. “It’s a great movie.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Steve says, and even though you can’t really see him in the dark, you can hear his smirk, picture his smile. He’s teasing, and you’re kind of glad for it. It helps. “I just didn’t think it would be your thing, is all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s my thing then?”

“I don’t know. You seem like a Dune fan, maybe.” He wonders out loud, your flashlight lighting the way. 

“I do like the book.”

“See?” Steve points at his temple. “I knew it.”

“I think working at Family Video is finally getting to you.”

“I’m good at reading people,” he says, and you raise another silent eyebrow at him. He continues, “I’d always thought of you as a little brainiac, and that you’d liked movies that were kinda difficult. You were always reading in school. I didn’t think you’d like teen flicks and Hughes.”

“Dune is not difficult. And maybe you don’t really know me enough to know what my thing is,” you shrug. “... Or maybe every girl is a little bit in love with Judd Nelson.”

“Yeah,” Steve actually laughs. “Can’t beat that hair.”

And you can’t help yourself, you smirk. You think you might actually be dreaming, or maybe this curse made Steve seem more tolerable than usual. “You give him a good run for his money.”

“We’re still talking about hair here, right?”

Now you point your flashlight at Steve and elbow him.

“I’m just asking!”

“It was a stupid question. And just so you know, there’s nothing wrong about liking teen flicks,” you say, continuing to walk and not waiting to see if Steve follows. “Pretty in Pink is my new favorite movie and my GPA is still 3.5.”

“Oh wow. Pretty in Pink?” He whistles. “You have a soft spot for Molly Ringwald.”

“Who doesn’t?”

He hums in response.

You stay like that for a moment, walking through dusty hallways and trying to avoid spider webs. Even with the flashlights the place looks abandoned and lonely, and there’s a coldness running down your spine that you can’t shake off no matter how much you try. You focus on trying to catch the sound of Steve’s breathing to somehow ground yourself to reality. It feels like ever since meeting Vecna your grip on reality slowly fades away, like someone is unraveling the carpet from underneath you, trying to catch you by surprise. Like you’re falling into an abyss of darkness and you can’t hold onto anything— because nothing around you is truly real. And so you bite your lip to keep yourself from reaching out to Steve and holding on. You can’t think of a moment you’ve felt as uncertain as you do now; but Steve’s teasing and your bickering back and forth is normal, makes you feel like you’re not actually in immediate danger. You figure if there’s a different dimension called the Upside Down, then you can most definitely forgive Steve Harrington for being a jerk in High School. He has more than proven himself to you. 

Because the truth is that maybe Vecna will win. Maybe you will never beat this curse. And you’ll end up like Chrissy Cunningham, like Fred Benson, like Patrick McKinney; just dead bodies along the trail.

“Hey, Steve,” you call, slowing down to walk beside him. He turns to look at you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Uhm. If something… like, happened to me—”

“Woah, woah, wait,” Steve shakes his head. “Nothing will. We beat the curse, remember? With the song?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t actually beat it, did we?” Now you do turn to look at him, and his big eyes almost render you speechless. You don’t know what to call the look on his eyes, but it makes you want to look away from him; makes you want to run. “Listen, Steve, I just— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says, quickly. You think he’s noticed how embarrassed you feel, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re just scared shitless like the rest of us.”

“It’s not that,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk around you and picking fights with you. You’ve— you’ve been there for Dustin when I wasn’t, and I guess you’re not actually a bad guy. So… I’m sorry I judged you. And thank you, I guess. For being there for Dustin. And… me.”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a second. You’re still looking anywhere but him, now focusing your eyes on a spider in one of the many spider webs in front of you. You feel embarrassed and stupid, but a little bit better. You know you’re doing the right thing by apologizing— you know Steve now, better than you’ve ever thought you would. You finally dare to take one look at him and his eyes are still on you, and when your eyes lock, he smiles softly.

“You’re apologizing for that?” Steve asks, and when you nod matter of factly, he tilts his head to the side. “Huh. Never thought I’d see the day Henderson’s sister apologized to me.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, Harrington,” you roll your eyes, but can’t help the small smile forming on your lips. “I’m only doing this because I might die.”

Steve chuckles, nodding. “Fair enough,” he says. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too, Henderson. To be honest, I think I kind of deserved it. I was an asshole in High School, so… yeah. I, uh, I’m sorry it took me getting kicked off the clique to realize you’re not half bad.”

“Well,” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “It took me almost dying to realize you’re not half bad either. I think we’re even.”

Steve stops in his tracks, making you stop, too, a little confused. You turn to look at him, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look quite so… earnest, maybe. You can’t name the look on his face, but you can’t look away, can’t seem to be able to keep walking. You’re frozen in place.

“You’re not gonna die, Henderson,” he says, determined. “I won’t let you.”

Your mouth goes dry. All you can do in response is nod. You want to say something, but the words escape you, and so you stare at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. You wonder if Steve can hear the rapid beating of your heart, if he can make out the way your eyes drop to his lips for a slow second despite the darkness around you both.

Then you hear Dustin yell out, “Guys!” and the moment fades away.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

Finding Eddie at Skull Rock seems to be harder than it should be, and once you find him you’re made to follow Dustin’s apparently broken compass. You feel like you’re wandering through the desert, with no clear path in mind. Dustin is at the front, with Lucas and Max following closely behind, Eddie (who you now have a hard time believing would ever be able to kill anyone), Robin and Nancy in front of you and Steve.

You find yourself time and time again choosing to spend more time with Steve, that he seems to be the one able to actually make you feel grounded, like you’re not gonna die in the next three seconds. You feel like yourself around him; but different. Steve is different. This whole experience is making you rethink everything you’ve ever known.

You can’t help but wonder in the silence about Dustin and the others, guiding the rest of you through the night time in the forest. Despite all of them being younger than you, they don’t seem to need your help, especially Dustin, who you think is completely in his element leading the way.

After a while of walking in silence, Dustin announces that the compass seems to be going even crazier. At this, Robin pries it off his hands to confirm that it’s true. Eddie and Dustin argue for a second about following the compass and make another Lord of the Rings reference that has you smiling.

“He’s not half bad,” you comment. “Eddie, I mean.”

“I still don’t know what the hell Modor is,” Steve mumbles under his breath.

You don’t try to explain Lord of The Rings to him— you don’t think there’s even enough time. But, maybe one day, when Hawkins isn’t in imminent danger and Steve still wants to hang out with your uncool self for whatever reason.

“What do you think we’ll find wherever this stupid compass is taking us?” You ask him, trying to avoid accidentally stepping on some poison ivy. Just your luck to get cursed and also poisoned on the same week. “You know more about this than me.”

“I’m actually more like, the, uhm, action guy of the group.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t know where we’re going,” You conclude.

Steve nods. “No damn clue, Henderson.”

“Great,” you chuckle lightly. 

“All I know is that it’s probably a portal Vecna opened after killing someone.”

“A portal. To the upside down?” When Steve nods in confirmation, you sigh. “I still can’t get used to how crazy this is.”

“The third time you do this you kind of just start going with the flow of things,” Steve admits. “Russian spies, MK-Ultra, different dimensions, monsters— it all just kind of starts to sound like background noise.”

“Dustin and the kids seem to really know about all of this.”

“They do,” Steve nods. “Dustin is like, their leader. Our leader, I guess.”

“My little brother… fighting communists and monsters.” You shake your head. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. How did Nancy? With you and Mike?”

Steve stops for a second to frown at you. “With me?”

“You know, with Nancy and you dating.”

“Me and Nancy?” he asks, then shakes his head. “No, me and Nance just… we go way back, but she’s with Jonathan. That ship sailed a long time ago. We’re friends now. Besides, she’s the one killing more monsters than me.”

“Oh.”

There’s no way to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at this, or the hopeful glint in Steve’s eyes. The rest of the woods disappear and it’s only you and Steve and your rapidly beating heart. The others are lost to you, in their own little world, searching in the dark with their flashlights like fireflies.

“Yeah,” Steve scratches the back of his neck. “And, just in case, me and Robin are not a thing, either. Just friends.”

“Platonic with a capital P!” You hear Robin yell out in front of you.

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at Steve’s blush. “Yeah, yeah, think she got it, Buckley, thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

“That’s… good to know,” you comment.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, then scratches his chin. “Is it? Good to know?”

You nod slowly, avoiding his gaze. “Maybe.”

“Maybe. Okay. Maybe is—” he breathes out. “Maybe is cool.”

“Maybe is really cool,” you allow yourself a small smile.

“Really?” Steve inquires, and when he notices his smile he gifts you one of his own. “Okay. That’s great. Maybe is really cool. Cool. Cool beans.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, finally daring to look at him.

Steve follows your movement with his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, breathless.

“Hey guys,” Dustin’s voice rings out, the moment gone. “I think we found the portal!”

You both follow Dustin’s voice until you reach a lake, where Eddie explains Vecna killed Patrick when he was running away from Jason and the rest of the basketball team. 

“So the portal is… what?” Robin asks, “Underwater?”

Dustin shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

He starts climbing up the boat, and you’re quick to grab him by the sleeves of his shirt to stop him.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” You ask him.

“Looking for the portal,” Dustin says, matter-of-factly.

“You told me this portal is supposed to teleport you to another dimension, one Will Byers got stuck in,” you reply, pulling him away from the boat. “You’re not going anywhere near that portal. None of you kids are.”

“Who died and made you the boss?”

“Three people died,” you note.

“I made her the boss,” Robin quips. “Well, Nancy might technically be the boss, actually. Nance?”

Nancy blinks at Robin’s words. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“Nance says yes.”

Eddie frowns. “Yes to being the boss or yes to—”

“Let’s just go,” Nancy urges, gesturing at Steve to help her drag the boat offshore. Steve complies, and helps Nancy climb into the boat, followed by Robin and then Eddie.

“But what about the curse?” Dustin wonders, looking at you.

“I have this, remember?” You hold up the cassette player, and wink at your brother. “Don’t worry about me, okay? Look after Lucas and Max. Nancy might be the boss, but you’re their leader.”

“Okay, yeah,” he nods, sounding more like he’s talking to reassure himself than anything. 

“Compass, please,” you tell him, and Dustin complies unhappily. You can’t help yourself from grabbing him by the cheeks and kissing his forehead like you did when he was younger. Despite being a good leader, a fighter, he’ll always be little Dusty, who steals your waffles and makes really bad coffee. “See you soon.”

Steve offers his hand to help you climb the boat and you take it with a tiny smile.

The trip on the boat is short and dark. Even with Steve using his flashlight to try and light the way, it’s barely enough to keep you from being engulfed in the darkness of the night. When was the last time the moon shone down in Hawkins? There are almost no stars above, the view chillingly dark. You fear what you might find. Nancy stares at Dustin’s compass, trying to give any semblance of direction when the compass starts going crazy.

Steve starts pulling off his socks. 

“Steve,” Nancy says slowly, “what are you doing?”

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out. Was one of you four Hawkin’s High’s swimming co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years?” He figures, already working on his other shoe. “It’s gotta be me, no complaints, alright?”

Eddie chuckles nervously. “Hey… I’m not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.”

You watch as Eddie takes something off his pocket and throws it on the boat’s floor. You want to stop Steve somehow, irrationally, because as far as you know Nancy, Robin and Eddie can’t dive, and you can barely float — but the words die on your throat when you look up and Steve is peeling off his shirt.

“Here,” Eddie says, and you realize now he had wrapped a plastic bag around a flashlight and is now handing it back to Steve. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, taking it from his hands.

“Steve,” Robin rasps out before he dives, and Steve stops to look at her. “Don’t… die?”

“Gee,” he scoffs. “Thanks for the encouraging speech, Robs.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Don’t die, seriously,” you manage to tell him, wanting to reach for his hand but stopping yourself. “Or I’ll kill you.”

Steve nods. He looks like he wants to say something else, but keeps his mouth shut before diving underwater.

The silence on the boat almost kills you, as it rocks quietly, everyone holds their breath waiting for Steve to come up once again. Your heart is in your throat, Don’t You still playing softly in your eardrums, the cassette player still on, a constant to remind you you’re still here. Miraculously.

“He’s…” Eddie whistles. “He’s got balls, King Steve.”

“Yeah,” you nod, looking at the water like you’re hypnotized, waiting for his soaked head to pop up.

“Not what you’d expect,” he adds, a little quietly.

“No,” Robin says, and the way she says it— so fond, so genuine. You couldn’t agree more. Steve is so much more than what you’d expected him to be. “Not at all.”

You stay silent for a few more seconds, all of you waiting for Steve to come back. When he does he emerges with a gasp for air, startling the rest of you. Eddie screams so loud you hear it perfectly well over the music.

“Found it,” Steve claims, holding onto the edge of the boat.

“You found it?” Nancy repeats.

“It was pretty wild,” Steve explains that he seemed to have stumbled into the portal, like an open gate illuminating the bottom of the lake and tinting it red. “It was pretty damn big—”

Before he can continue, Steve is pulled into the water once again, and you jump up instinctively, trying to reach for his hand, but he escapes your grasp quickly. He emerges again and you breathe a sigh of relief— but it’s short lived, because Steve is dragged under once again and he’s not coming up.

“Steve!” you yell. “Steve!”

“What the hell was that, man?!”

Between all the screaming going on, the only thing you can think about is Steve, Steve, Steve—

And so you stand up.

“Wait, (Y/N),” Nancy starts, “What are you—”

“You’re not going in there!” Eddie screams, trying to grab you by the arm.

“I—” You start, but can’t seem to decide on what to say. You don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you know you’ll do it anyway. You have no plan, that much is certain, you’ve never fought a day in your life. “I can’t just stay here!”

“Are you insane?!”

Robin pales. “No, (Y/N), wait—”

With one last look at the rest of the guys, you dive into the water and swim. You’ve never been a good swimmer, but you find yourself swimming like you’ve never had, quickly finding the red portal Steve had mentioned before being dragged down here. What you find on the other side reminds you of when you met Vecna— when he showed you your memories, cold, distorted and dark. You briefly wonder if Vecna had managed to drag you all the way here then, but you have no time to dwell on it too much.

Steve is laying on his back, as some creatures bite at his abdomen incessantly, like leeches. They are choking him, curling their tails around his neck. You stand up and run towards him, only to notice the others have followed behind you, their wet footsteps a reassurance.

“(Y/N)!” Nancy yells, making you turn. She throws one of the boat’s paddles at you, keeping one for herself. 

You manage to catch it, God knows how. Steve is still struggling when you get to him, and the first thing you do is smack one of the things across the face, forcing it on its back and stopping it from further gnawing Steve’s abdomen. You see as Robin starts stomping on the one who has its tail curled around Steve’s neck, and Nancy takes on the other one.

“Shit,” Eddie murmurs when he looks up the sky and sees even more of them approaching.

One of them starts going after Nancy, Eddie trying to come to her rescue by grabbing Steve’s still working flashlight and smacking it as hard as he can manage. You help Robin by hitting the one she’s stomping on with the paddle, until Steve manages to bite its tail, forcing it to curl itself from his neck. 

With more coming, you are distracted enough to barely notice when Steve manages to behead it, his lips stained with pitch black blood.

“Jesus christ,” Eddie mumbles. “Jesus H Christ!”

The adrenaline pumping through your veins, your heartbeat going faster— everything seems to go for so long, when in reality it must’ve been just a few minutes.

“Steve,” you manage to rasp out, walking towards him, only looking at his wounds, unsure of what you can do to help him. “Shit, Steve, are you okay?”

“They only took about a pound of flesh,” he says, making you sigh. “But other than that… Yeah, never better.”

He stares at you when he says it, and you can’t help the way your breath catches.

“You’ll need bandages,” Nancy notes.

“Do you guys know if these bats have like, rabbies?” Robin wonders aloud. Aware that everyone’s eyes are on her, Robin starts rambling about rabies symptoms and death. You and Steve glance at each other.

Steve’s chest is still rising erratically, exhausted, when he asks, “What the hell are you talking about, Robin?”

Before Robin can go on any longer though, the sky is tinted red again, and the screeching of even more approaching creatures gets you on edge. 

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” you say, and the rest of the group seem to agree.

The five of you break into a run into the forest, as far as you can before Steve’s wounds start to appear more serious, and when Nancy deems it safe enough, you stop near a tree where Steve can lean against, still breathing rapidly. You remember that Nancy said he’d need bandages, and so you take the hem of your pants and start ripping them open.

“What are you—” Steve starts.

“Bandages,” you say. “I saw this in Indiana Jones.”

“Indiana Jones?” Steve asks with a chuckle, looking up at the sky, smiling. “Your movie choices keep surprising me, Henderson.”

You tie the cloth around his wounds as tightly as you can, hopeful that it’s a good enough job to keep him from bleeding out until you guys get out of here. The wounds don’t look too bad, but you have no idea how long you'll stay here for. Nancy, looking over your shoulders, seems to approve of your bandage work.

“Thanks,” Steve rasps out.

“Just don’t die on me,” you nod, staring at his eyes.

“I’ll try not to.”

He holds your gaze, your mouth going even more dry than it already is. “I’ll hold you to that, Harrington.”

You’re interrupted when Steve catches something behind you. It’s Eddie’s jean vest. When you turn, Eddie scrunches up his nose.

“For modesty, man.”

“We escaped now, but there’s more of those monsters than what we saw,” Nancy interrupts, walking around, trying to think. “They’ll come looking for us. We need to get out of here.”

“So,” Eddie starts, running a hand through his mouth. “What the hell do we do now? How do we get out of here, exactly?”

“We need to find another portal, right?” Robin replies. “That’s the only way to get out of here. But we can’t go back to Watergate, it’s probably full of those bats now. Those bats full of rabies!”

 “Right now, the most important thing is to defend ourselves,” Nancy says. “We don’t know what kind of monsters are down here. Maybe they’re even worse than that.”

“Hell,” Eddie breathes. “You think Vecna is here?”

“I don’t know… Maybe.”

A chill runs down your spine at the mention of Vecna’s name. Your hand flies to your ear, and only then you realize you’ve jumped in the water with your headphones on, and when you reach the player secured inside your front pocket it’s wet and broken. Through the adrenaline of the fight, you hadn’t even noticed that the song was no longer playing. 

“Shit,” Nancy breathes out, looking at your ruined headphones. “The player.”

“It’s ruined,” you lament, seeing the way it’s soaked. You toss the cassette player to the ground, near Steve’s feet, who pales even more, if it’s even possible.

“Fuck,” he says, breathless, the slight reassuring smile he’d been wearing disappears in an instant. He stands up straight despite his body clearly protesting against it. “We need to find another one before it’s too late.”

“Would it even work here?” Robin wonders. “If it’s one from the Upside Down, I mean. Things seem to be… kind of broken here, don’t they?”

“Then we need to get her out of here right now,” Steve urges, and when he starts trying to walk away it’s Eddie who stops him.

“Dude, do you want your intestines to hang out of your abdomen like some shitty Nightmare on Elm Street scene?” he asks, “Stay still! Those bats could be anywhere!”

“We need to move!”

“Steve, wait a second,” you urge after him.

“We could go to my house,” Nancy offers. “I have guns. We could use them to fend off the demo… bats, or whatever. And we need a player. We can use Mike’s, he has one he didn’t take to California.”

Eddie blinks. “You, Nancy Wheeler… have guns.”

Robin grins. “Full of surprises, isn’t she?”

Steve is already on his way despite his groans of pain, and even though the wounds had seemed pretty superficial to you when you wrapped them up, it doesn’t mean that they don’t hurt like a bitch.

“Steve, you’re just hurting yourself even more now,” Now Robin is sighing, exasperated. You briefly wonder how many times she’s had to deal with Steve like this.

“Let’s go,” he says, ignoring her.

“Steve...” you try to stop him, but he turns around quickly.

“Let’s go!” 

Robin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Where are we even going, oh great leader?”

“Nancy’s!”

You all turn to look at each other, unsure if following Steve is the best idea, but with nothing else to do and no other ideas, there’s only one thing to do.

And so you all start walking.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

It’s a while before you arrive at the Wheeler’s, the five of you mostly exhausted from the fight, with Steve clutching his wounds but still leading the way, right next to Nancy. You’re all on edge the entire way back, but despite the lack of music you don’t feel different yet, and you don’t encounter any more demobats, as Nancy had called them.

Nancy’s house seems haunted in this place, just as much as the rest of Hawkins seems to be. Despite housing monsters, the Upside Down looks more like a ghost town than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder how tiny Will Byers had ever survived something like this so young… Nobody ever gives that kid enough credit. 

Nancy wastes no time climbing up the stairs; she almost seems unaffected looking at her house like this, so… dead. She hovers near a door and turns to look at you.

“This is Mike’s room,” she nods at it. “His cassette player should be in there. Me, Eddie and Robin will get the guns and look for the cassette in my room.”

You agree to it, and she disappears down the hallway along with Eddie and Robin. You and Steve enter Mike’s room, start rummaging through cabinets. You work in silence. You’ve never seen Steve this quiet, this focused. You wonder if he’s mad at you— he had to be. Now besides demobats and trying to escape, he had to help you too because you’d went and done something stupid and completely irrational.

Steve clears his throat, holding up something in his hand. “Found it,” he calls. “Think it’ll work?” He wonders aloud, as you close the closet door before walking up to him.

“Here,” You say, then pull your ruined flashlight from your back pocket. You hit the back of it against the palm of your hand and the batteries come off. You’re not sure if this might work since the flashlight got wet and stopped working once you jumped into the water, but once you plug them into the cassette player it seems to come to life. Steve sighs, relieved. “Thank God that worked. Let’s get that stupid cassette and get out of here.”

“Sounds good to me,” he quips. He wets his lips, looking around. “You don’t feel any different, though, right?” When you shake your head, he seems to be able to relax a bit. “When we were on our way here, Eddie told me you didn’t waste a second to help me.”

You wait for Steve to continue, but he doesn’t.

“I’ve never been much of an adventurer when we were kids,” you say. “Dustin wanted to climb trees and go camping, and I wanted to stay home and read books. We used to fight all the time because I never wanted to play outside with him, because I was scared of bugs and dirt and I just wanted to stay inside.”

Steve doesn’t say anything to that, but he’s near you, hoving near your hand, like he knows you need the comfort, unsure if it’d be wanted from him. 

“If I don’t make it out of this stupid curse, Steve,” you breathe out, legs feeling so shaky you want to throw up, “I need you to promise me you’ll take care of Dustin.”

“He’ll kill me before I let you die,” Steve says, trying t sound lighthearted but failing.

“Steve,” you rag out. “Promise me. Please.”

Steve nods, his voice soft in the way it does when he’s trying to be gentle. “Y—yeah. Of course. You know little Henderson’s like my own little brother.”

“I know,” you acknowledge. “You’ve been a way better sibling than me. I’ve been such a shitty sister and I’m… I’m really glad Dustin has you.”

“That’s not true,” he argues, reaching for your arm in the darkness of the room— you want to flinch away. “He loves you, (Y/N). Seriously, you should hear the way he talks about you when you’re not around.”

You ignore the sting in your eyes and berate yourself for tearing up.

“It’s my fault,” you whisper.

“What?”

“It’s my fault my dad walked away,” you shake your head, tearing your arm away from Steve’s touch, feeling cold as soon as you’re away from him. But you deserve it, you deserve the cold. “I told him I hated him after I learned he cheated on mom and that he had another family, and he never came back. I told him I never wanted to see him again. I’m the reason Dustin doesn’t have a dad now. But— but I was just fifteen, I didn’t— I didn’t know what I was asking—”

“Stop, stop,” Steve interrupts, and suddenly he’s pulling you close to your chest and holding you close.

And suddenly that’s all you need to break down, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You feel embarrased, stupid for crying about something like this when the world might be about to end, horrifyingly guilty for everything— but for the first time you feel like something has been finally lifted off your chest and you can breathe, here, with Steve holding you. You’re glad Steve stayed behind with you. In truth, you think you might just be glad for Steve.

If someone had told you a week ago you’d be crying in Steve Harrington’s arms you would’ve smacked them. Life can change really fast, huh?

“Nobody is going to die,” his voice is so soft. You’d never thought you’d think of Steve’s voice as anything other than grating, but now you hold onto it like a lifeline. “I won’t let that happen.”

You breathe into his chest. You finally manage to let go of him, thanking God the others weren’t near. You miss the warmth almost immediately, as much as you don’t want to admit it. “Shit, sorry, your bandages.”

“You need to stop doing that,” he quips.

“What?”

“Apologizing so much,” he reaches for your arm again before walking, and you thank him silently. You have to bite your tongue not to apologize again. “Let’s go get that cassette.”

When you both step into Nancy’s room, the silence is almost deafening. 

“What happened?” 

“The guns,” Nancy explains, her eyes focused on her nightstand, not looking up at either of you. “They aren’t here. But so many things that shouldn’t be are. Like— like my curtains, and these— these toys I gifted my cousin Joanna. They haven’t been here since 1983.”

“We’re stuck in time, dude,” Eddie finishes for her.

“Three years, to be exact.”

“What?” Steve asks, confused. “Three years into the past?”

“... From when Will disappeared, you mean?” You question.

Nancy nods. “Yeah, I… think so. But, (Y/N), If we’re three years in the past, it means The Breakfast Club isn’t out yet,” Nancy swallows, hard, then finally looks up to stare into your eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, his chest rising erratically. 

You bite your lip. “She means the song doesn’t exist, either.”

Nancy closes her eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” 

“Fuck!” Steve yells, “fuck!”

He kicks one of Nancy’s nightstands with so much force he manages to force it into the ground, Nancy’s belongings following suit, scattering around the carpet, making Nancy flinch. 

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to reach for him. “Stop.”

Steve sits on Nancy’s bed, hand covering his mouth. He lets you rest your hand on his arm, and he breathes out another curse. He almost looks frozen in place like this, and it reminds you that everything in here feels like it is— ghosts, so many ghosts. You feel like you’re stuck in hell. 

“Maybe any song will work,” Robin offers a little desperately, going through Nancy’s drawers, pulling out different cassettes and soundtracks, Duran Duran, Madonna, Elton John. “C’mon guys, one has to work.”

Eddie scratches his neck. “Doesn’t it have to be her favorite song? Isn’t that what Henderon said?”

“Screw it,” Nancy shakes her head, taking in a shaky breath. “We have to try whatever we can. This is our only option.”

“Okay,” you nod, shakily, prying your hand off of Steve’s arm, reaching to cruch own next to Robin and look through the rest of Nancy’s cassettes. “Okay, let’s— let’s try it.”

Robin holds up Total Eclipse of the Heart. “You like Bonnie Tyler?” 

“Seems as good as anything,” you nod, taking it from her hands. As the first notes of Total Eclipse start playing, you gulp nervously, praying this might work, that you have at least enough time to get out of here alive.

Steve still looks miserable, but seems a little calmer now. “We need to get out of here right now.”

“How?” Robin sighs. “How did Will ever manage to get out of this place?”

“There has to be a way,” Nancy figures, then something seems to dawn on her. “Will. Will used to talk to Joyce with the Christmas lights while he was stuck in the Upside Down.”

“The Christmas lights?” Eddie asks, incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

As she explains, you can’t help but think that Nancy Wheeler is absolutely brilliant. You can’t blame Steve for falling in love with her before. She’s interrupted by Robin rather quickly though, when she claims she can hear Dustin’s voice— soon enough, all of you start to hear him, distorted and distant, but it's there no less. Quickly Dustin communicates that he thinks there might be another portal in Eddie’s trailer and that seems to be your best shot at an escape.

Robin and Nancy leave to get some supplies for the trip— whatever they can find to use as a weapon, while Eddie wanders off behind them, with the excuse of rummaging through little Wheeler’s action figures. Steve stays with you, as you stare at Holly’s Lite Brite, unsure on what to do. 

You trust Dustin and his plan, of course you do. Dustin’s done nothing but prove himself to you these past few days. Still, the thought that everything might go incredibly wrong is almost unshakable at this point. What was it Max said to you? Something about how Vecna’s curse made people feel hopeless and lonely.

“You okay, right?” Steve wonders aloud, searching your face. “You haven’t had any visions yet?”

You haven’t felt Vecna’s pull yet, but you don’t want to be overly optimistic just yet. “I’m okay, I think. Are you?”

You glance down at his bandages, but he only nods. “Yeah, they don’t hurt anymore. I’m more worried about you.”

Warmth spreads all over your cheeks and inside your chest, but now’s really not the time for all of these feelings, and so you try to squeeze them out, to focus on something else. 

“I just hope the plan works,” you mumble. “I want to get out of here.”

“You—” Steve shakes his head, looks at you with a look you can’t name. But he sounds frustrated, exhausted. “You just jumped in after me? You didn’t even think…” he trails off. “Eddie said you just jumped. Fucking jumped. You’re unbelievable, you know that, don’t you, Henderson? Absolutely fucking unbelievable.” 

You look down at your hands.

“It was stupid, I know, I—”

“Thank you,” Steve murmurs, honesty bleeding into every word he speaks. You look up at him, surprised. “You saved my ass back there.”

The truth is you hadn’t doubted one second— you hadn’t even stopped to think about what might happen to you. Helping Steve was more important to you than anything in that moment, and you didn’t regret it, how could you regret that? 

“You saved my ass first, back at the Wheeler’s,” you smile at him. “Even later, in the woods, and at Creel’s house. I don’t know if I could have kept going without you… so thank you.”

Steve stays silent for a few seconds, unsure of how to continue. You can practically feel him grow nervous now, when he clears his throat and begins speaking. “Listen, I know we are on the brink of life and death and maybe world threatening danger, but I kinda need some motivation to get out of here.”

“Yeah?”

“So, now that you know me and Nancy aren’t really a thing, and that me and Robin are platonic with a capital P…”

“Keep going.”

“And since you know, maybe is really cool,” you nod, trying to fight off a smile. “We should, maybe, go on a date together.”

“Hm…” you place a hand on your chin. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I can go out with someone who doesn’t like Pretty in Pink.”

“I’ve never said I didn’t,” he shrugs. “I just haven’t even seen it.”

“You haven’t seen Pretty in Pink, you monster?!”

“You know, I’m actively bleeding out here,” Steve gestures at your last minute bandages, his smile almost as handsome as him, even more so after tearing off a bat monster’s head off. Even more so now that it seems you finally have a plan to get out of this goddamn place. “You’re gonna make a dying man wait?”

“You’re not dying, Harrington.” You smack him gently across the shoulders. “I won’t let you.”

Steve chuckles, his hand finding its way to yours, almost nervous, scared of rejection. 

“So? What do you say?”

“I say that if we get out of here alive, and it seems like kind of a longshot right now…” you acknowledge, holding onto his hand and squeezing. “I would really, really like that.”

“Yeah?”

You’re smiling. “Yeah.”

You both might be the people with the worst timing in the entire world— you’re cursed by a demon villain from another dimension, and Steve is bleeding out while you’re both trapped inside the Upside Down, with no clue if you’ll be able to actually escape. Not to mention this is all happening in his ex's house. And yet you can’t help but laugh when Steve tries to reach for the back of your neck and fails miserably.

“I really want to kiss you,” he says, “but my abdomen still really hurts.”

“I have to do everything,” you tease, before closing the distance between you, your lips pressing against his with a sigh. 

Steve’s lips are chapped, bloody, raw, and yours must be equally as bad, salty, open and bleeding raw. But despite everything the kiss is perfect, as imperfect and uncoordinated as it is; the way your lips fit together, the way Steve cradles your cheek, and how you hold the back of his neck while Bonnie Tyler plays in the background of it all. Now, more than anything, you feel hope.

When you break off the kiss, Steve is smiling. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he says. And you just might.

[chalametluvrz]

stranger things p♡rn links

steve harrington

steve’s passenger princess

kitten licking

railing your cunt

he knows how to treat you

manhandling you

eddie munson

his good little maid

using your pussy

playing rough

thigh fucking you

morning sex

robin buckley

playing with your pussy

enjoying her ‘cock’

eating your cunt

making a mess of her face

destroying your fuckhole

nancy wheeler

eating her out in steve’s car

overstimulating her

when she misses you

showering together turns dirty

taking control of her

jonathan byers

treating you good

“painting” you

rough backshots

riding him desperately

it’s all about you

note: all the links are working as of sep 13th!!! you will need to log into ur twitter and remove the sensitivity setting <3

[ilovetulips]

steve harrington is the biggest attention whore when it comes to affection.

you are lying on your bed with him, a book in your hands as he falls asleep next to you.

or so you thought.

while scanning the words on the yellowed page, steve prods your arm multiple times. when you ignore him, knowing it was his desperate attempt at getting your attention without saying your name, he redirects his pokes to the flesh of your cheek.

he lets out a desperate whine at your ignorant bliss and rolls over with a “hmph”. small mutters and mumbles sound from his mouth as you hide the grin pulling at the corners of your mouth. you haven’t failed to notice him looking over his shoulder at you, just to see if you’re looking back.

“y/n.” it’s quick, you would’ve missed him say it completely if you weren’t paying attention to him.

“y/nnnn.” he drags out the end of the word completely, while rolling over to look at you again.

deciding to see what he wants, finally, you set your book down and look at his warm eyes.

“steve.” it’s hard to believe someone could be so happy hearing their own name, but the heart-warming smile that graces his features delicately gives you no choice but to smile back.

he shuffles closer to you, planting his head in the nape of your neck and kisses it gently. “missed you.” he speaks into your skin, the words echoing throughout each fibre.

“it’s been 10 minutes.” you kiss the crown of his head, weaving your fingers through the boy’s impressive head of hair and rubbing his scalp while he makes a relaxed “mmm” that vibrates your body.

“too long. way too long.” he finally peeks up at you, before peppering kisses all over your face, erupting small hiccups of giggles from your chest and pathetic attempts to push him away.

he looks down at you, smiling back breathlessly.

“you’re so pretty.” he says, leaning back down to shower you with passionate pecks all over again.

[huboi]

giving them a rock

fandom: stranger things

characters: eddie munson, steve harrington

reader: gn

note(s): reader has a habit of giving their close friends little nick nacks they find around as a way of showing affection

EDDIE MUNSON

treasures the rock, he loves it

if you’re in the hellfire club he’ll defo make it your character XD

whenever you come around to his, you always see it on display on his desk

if you give him more rocks then he’ll have a dedicated drawer for them🥹

STEVE HARRINGTON

initially confused, like why tf u giving me a rock?

but when you explain to him why you gave him the rock he gets quite happy

to him it’s like a friendship bracelet, but a rock instead

defo shows it off to his kids, he’s like a proud mum🥹

“guys, this is pebble the rock, my new child”

lowkey likes getting more rocks from you even if he doesn’t explicitly say so

[prettybabybaby]

there’s summ about gross!eddie and dry humping that gets me….

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

¡ stranger things masterlist !

no because you’re just as feral as he is

You’re straddling him, bucking your hips desperately as he grips your hips and pushes you down against him. You can see the oils in his long curls that spread out on his stained pillow, sweaty bangs clumping together on his forehead. His mouth is agape, puffs of cannabis-scented breaths hit your face. His bed creaks, squeaking loudly and bumping against his wall, plastic cracking somewhere behind his bed.

You lean down, grasping his face in your hands, kissing him. He tastes like some kind of cheap pasta and soda, it transfers to your mouth, mingles with your minty spit. He moans with you when you speed up, squeezing your sides.

His sweat covers your forehead when you press them together, biting your lip as he thrusts up, adding to the sensation of your swirling hips. His scent is concentrated this close, musk and sweat, cheap cologne and smoke. You tug at the tangled curls, watching his eyes screw shut as he inhales, the sound of it borders on painful.

You quiver as your orgasm creeps up on you, hurrying your eager movements and matching pace with his ruts. You suddenly feel his cum soaking through his jeans, dampening your thighs and your soaking panties, sending you over the edge.

[sunricecake]

How do you think chrissy would be as a girlfriend? in your honest thoughts?(:

💭 chrissy as your girlfriend

a/n : we are going to pretend jason doesn't exist bcs there is no room for men in my universe. also i had some issues with the chrissy fic i was supposed to post last week which stemmed from me proofreading it so much to the point it began to look like random words thrown in a doc n now idk if i wanna post it anymore but hopefully i get over the itch to delete the whole thing. enjoy (｡’︶’｡) ♡

ok first of all, she is gonna be the sweetest, most supportive gf ever!! you'll basically have your very own, personal cheerleader :'D she always manages to lift your spirits, oftentimes without even trying and by just being her cheerful self

she's the type to get hooked in your own interests as she tries to learn more about them and tries it for herself. plus it gives her an excuse to spend more time with you and opens a lot of opportunities for more dates.

speaking of, shopping dates are a must!! crhissy absolutely adores going around the mall with your fingers interlocked, arms swinging and her ponytail swishing around with every bob of her head.

i peg chrissy's love language to be physical touch, so aside from the casual hand holding and linking of arms, there'd definitely be a lot of stolen kisses behind closed curtains that leaves the both of you a giggling, flustered mess.

in the fitting room while you're trying on silly outfits. the locker room when everybody has gone out. underneath the bleachers in between practice. atop the ferris wheel while fireworks go off in the distance. on your rooftop where her eyes twinkle brighter than the stars.

chrissy's just very affectionate, sweet girl's got so much love in her!!! and she'll take every chance to shower you with it. the fact that she can't do it in public shatters her heart, but with you, she thinks it's all worth it :))

when it comes to disagreements, i don't think she'd do well with fights. she can't stand the thought of ever hurting you in any way, much more losing you. she'd never yell at you, in fact she's actually quite the crier. tears well up in her eyes before she can even raise her voice at you </3

you'd usually be the first to apologize and talk things out with her, simply because the sight of her being down and unlike her bubbly self is something you can't handle.

anniversaries are very important to her!! chrissy notes down all your milestones in a little diary (which she protects with her whole life because she knows how forgetful she can be) so she can prepare something special beforehand.

doesn't matter if it's your first week or second month together, she cherishes every moment with you and thinks it's all worth celebrating :D

matching. things. her gifts often consist of sets that the both of you can have — rings, bracelets, pins, any thing. it just makes her all fuzzy and warm inside and she is an absolute sucker for them.

as for receiving, she loves teddy bears!! especially the really big ones because they're not only fluffier and warmer, but also make up for the space in her bed when you're not there

it goes without saying that you would be the luckiest person in the world to have chrissy :((

[gavvaiins]

otherworldly | e.m.

summary: eddie surprises his partner in the libary, discovering instead of learning they created a whole freaking world

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader warnings: fluff word count: 1.5k

a/n: eddie might be a 'little’ ooc here, but oh well :’) practise makes perfect or something

If something was happening at the library you wouldn’t notice, not unless someone would blast the table you were using away or hit you. You were simply too immersed with the music, that surrounded you, and the bard you were working on. Sure, you plan had been to study at the library. Doing some homework, preparing a little bit for next week’s algebra test. Like so many times you had convinced yourself that you study better with music on. But as soon as you put your headphones on and pressed play you couldn’t focus on your homework anymore. Your brain simply shifted from math to dnd and bard skills. It was like your brain was on autopilot.

Thoughts like: Would Kalliope – your bard –  groove to this song? Could they buff the others like that? Could you use songs likes this in an actual campaign? Totally occupied your mind.

But then it got worse – or better, depending on your perspective. For your creativity it was the best but for your homework and learning motivation the worst, since every school subject was long, long forgotten. In fact, everything that had something to do with school now resided in a land far, far away.

You brain was simply too emersed into creating a campaign, your own world all fueled by your Walkman. The boys surely would hate to play your story, it was nothing like the Vecna story or anything else the Hellfire Club has ever done. Okay, maybe you were boasting on that. But you were sure that they wouldn’t be so excited to go on an adventure that was filled with –

“Hey!” You snapped when someone had the audacity to lift your headphones from your ears. Turning around, ignoring any deathly gaze from the Librarian, you saw no other but your boyfriend Eddie placing them on his own ears.

Seeing it was your boyfriend and no random student, who thought it would be funny to snatch other people’s music from their ears, you relaxed immediately. Due to your tape player laying on the table, next to the dozens of papers inscribed with your fantastical ideas, Eddie was pretty close. So close that you could enjoy his distinctive scent – people wouldn’t describe it as a favorite. Like so many boyish students he smelt like deodorant and aftershave, but also smoke and bits of his shampoo. It wasn’t a fragrance you’d want to buy in the store but on Eddie it simply smelled good, familiar.

You watched his face scrunch, faking disappointment. “ABBA?”

“What? They’re good.”

“Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight. Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away?” Eddie pressed his hands against his chest, exactly where his heart was. Lips drawn into a pout, he feigned hurt and you ripping his heart out. “Is it that what you want? A man after midnight, somebody to chase your shadows away?”

You tried to equal his pout, but it was impossible by the way he acted. Bending down to match your height, Eddie put your headphones back where they belonged and when his nose tingled yours the giddy feeling that rose in your stomach was incredible. But it was nothing compared to his voice, murmuring against your lips: “And I thought I had spoiled you. After DnD you should be listening to Black Sabbath by now.”

It was meant a joke, you knew it. But you wouldn’t give Eddie the peck he was expecting, waiting for. Instead, you leaned back with a scoff, eying your favorite member of the Hellfire Club up and down. “You spoiling me? What’s that supposed to mean? You’re not the one who introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons. It should be me spoiling you, with master pieces from ABBA. – Like Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!”

At that he chuckled. Eddie knew that he wasn’t the one who introduced you to world of Pen and Paper. He thought he would be, but it was a pleasant surprise when he got to know, that you already knew. Even better, you were an avid player with your friends.

“ABBA? No chances,” said Eddie, leaning back on the table you were working at. “You need to be Vecna to manage that and the last time I checked you were a bard.”

“Just a bard?”

“My favorite bard.” It sounded cheesy – no, it was cheesy, but Eddie simply couldn’t resist you and your stupid charm, luring one stupid smile after the other out of him. But what should he say? From all his friends and players, from all the campaigns he played, you were his favorite part of the game. You were by far his favorite – bard.

By pure accident did his fingers land on your papers. The one where you had written an entire campaign, inspired by your ABBA playlist, down. Curious he took the first one to read. But when you noticed, it was already too late.

Quirking a brow Eddie said nothing but: “This doesn’t look like algebra.”

Suddenly you felt embarrassed. The feeling came out of nowhere, but you didn’t want your idea to be read by him. Almost always he was the dungeon master and the way he narrated and acted out adventures was marvelous. However, him reading yours felt embarrassing.

What if he didn’t like it?

“It’s nothing,” you said, trying to snatch the paper back out of his hands. But Eddie simply stretched his arm, it was enough to stop you, eyes never leaving the note.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” he said and when he finished reading, which felt like dragging centuries, he handed it back to you. Instantly you grabbed it from his hands, carelessly creasing it in the process. You only wished for one thing: For all your notes to disappear. To poof! Vanish into thin air, like they never existed. “Never knew the bard of the bards was in fact a dungeon master.”

“What?”

Eddie nodded to the papers you ever so desperately tried to make disappear. “It’s a campaign, isn’t it?”

“It’s nothing, really,” you pressed, recklessly stuffing your ideas between pages of your spiral pad. Oh god, why couldn’t your boyfriend just forget what he had read? Why did he even read it? It’s not like your story was something he’d enjoy. It was so different than Hellfire’s usual campaigns – now, you didn’t feel like boasting anymore. For God’s sake it’s inspired and filled with ABBA music, no way it would be something Eddie wants to play.

“Just some ideas …  silly ideas. What can I say? ABBA simply took over me and boom I couldn’t stop. The ideas just came flying and well I – I guess, I really couldn’t stop. – But don’t worry! You’re not involved in this. I know it’s not the usual thing you guys play at the club, and I won’t force you to play something you’re not interested in. It’s not like I don’t have any friends besides you – I mean, we’re hardly friends anymore, right? Not that you’re not as important! I mean you’re my friend but you’re more, my partner and I – I don’t want to force you do to anything. You never force me, so why should I? And yeah, I think what I try to say is … my friends will like it? No, they’ll like it! And I’ll ask Erica, maybe she wants to join, too?”

With a smile watched Eddie you ramble. It was cute, really – the way you began talking like a waterfall when you were either excited or nervous. No one would be able to stop you when you once started. Well, no one but him – a kiss could stop everyone. “Count me in.”

Surprised you looked up at him. “What?”

“Count me in.” Eddie grinned.

“W-what? What? But it’s ABBA, you don’t like ABBA.”

Nonchalantly he shrugged and hopped off the table. “Hm, maybe they’re not that bad. Besides,” said Eddie, only shortly stopping to kiss your forehead. “It’s you and damn, what can I say? Your ideas are sick!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, after all you’re my favorite bard. – What can I say, you charmed me.” The way your boyfriend grinned at you, you wished for nothing more than to grab and kiss him. Even more so when he offered to help you become a real ‘dungeon master’. After all, he had the skills and the experience. Eddie promised you to help polishing your work, so that your game master debut would be more than a pleasant memory.

“Oh, I forgot one thing,” he said, making you rise your brows quizzically. “I can only come under one condition, sorry.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Only if I’ll be your man after midnight.” You couldn’t help but snort. Grinning ear to ear you pulled him down by his denim vest, neither caring that you were in a library, nor about what your classmates or the librarian would think.

With your noses touching softly it was hard to see anything clear, but you knew that he was grinning as madly as you did. You simply knew.

“Oh? But I thought you already were my man after midnight.” You whispered against his lips before worshipping them in a much-needed kiss.

[sincerelylea]

billy 🎬

billy. 10:57 pm.

he was so,, different. in that moment. his neck was tense, muscle and veins protruding from his throat when he spoke. he slammed his hand flat against his chest, and the blue of his eyes seemed so cold. the light had left them, he was the raging shell of blood boiling resentment and vexation.

when you looked at him he saw the vastness of your stupor. he knew he wasn't the man you adored in that moment. all he saw was red behind your silhouette and regret flooded his chest the moment he slammed the door of your bedroom and shoved the keys in his camaro.

the silence that swallowed you whole was muddled with the yelling that previously filled your room. it was unbearable, suffocating even, to be alone in that silence. your back hits your bed, eyes blurry and staring only at your ceiling to lay in thought. he'd come back, you hoped at least.

it must have been hours, or so it felt. you'd showered off the yelling and screaming and laid in bed trying to quiet your brain if only for a moment. the quiet doesn't last for much longer as the sound of your creaky front door opens and closes, the lock is flipped after and heavy footfall leads to your bedroom door. each step made the anxiety in your blood pulse, your mouth going dry when he stops at your door and turns the knob.

the moment you saw him enter your room you saw him again. he was whole. though he felt an endless weight on his shoulders dragging him to the earth's crust, leaving him only with his thoughts of endless regret. he wets his lips as he removes his jacket and lays it on your dresser, sitting beside you on your bed.

the silence wasn't painful anymore. the anxiety diminished some, but having him so close to you still made your nerves perk up in anticipation.

you lay crisscrossed next to him, he leans his elbows over his knees, head low, your hands fiddling with your cuticles. he raises a cautious hand and grasps your own, intertwining his fingers tight with your own and squeezes your hand. you squeeze back.

is there more to say? you're unsure if an apology is appropriate when silence and his warm hand in your own seemed enough justification for your argument. billy is faced with regret, but he swallows back his vexation of himself to be there with you in that moment. he owes it to you. he owes it to you to communicate, to be a good man, he thinks. even if your only communication is your intermingled hands.

it's a shot in the dark but you hope he's comfortable. scooting forward you lean your cheek against his shoulder and bring your hands to your lap, closing your eyes for a moment to breathe in the peace.

he smelled of cigarettes and that beige colored cologne he loved. if you remember correctly the bottle was getting severely low. and he had a musk about him. that comforting, warm scent that followed him everywhere. the signature scent that brought a fluttery feeling beneath your ribs.

he turns his head slightly to the left, and his cheek gently meets your forehead. he adjusts for a moment and he smells your leave in conditioner and detergent. you reminded him of the ocean, your heart was invested in everything you did, and maybe it was something else he couldn't quite put his finger on, your hair or style or vinyls you collected. but every time he thought of you he remembered the good parts if california.

your urge to speak soon faded, and the lights in your bedroom were lowered. only the light of the moon cast cuts of white glowing light through your blinds. he took a quick shower and changed shirts and joined you in bed quickly after. your arms opened the covers to him, legs soon entangling in the warmth of his body. your face found home in his neck and collarbone, you breathed him in. he felt your back and waist beneath his skin and splayed his fingers more as if to feel every inch he could for the moments he was gone.

and it felt okay. everything was gonna be okay. it was gonna be okay.

my birthday prompt challenge is still going on, feel free to request here.

[thatonesongyouretryingtoremember]

Link to original post here

Hey look guys it's jorts El and butt shorts Will!

TW blood, death (story blurb and ID below cut)

[ID: three images of the same digital drawing. El Hopper and Will Byers from Stranger Things are sprawled on the grass, dead, each with their left or right arm, respectively, outreached towards the other. The first drawing has then both covered in blood spatters, the second in particularly dark lighting, and the third with both and the fourth with no such modification. : end ID]

Reference photo from Fear Street: 1966

-------------------------------------

El followed Will through the forest, both running for their lives. Will may have spent years hiding in these very woods, but El had lived in them. For a year. They were almost home free- once they made it through that gate dead center in the clearing, their friends would be on the other side to protect them.

The trees made a rustling sound! Demobats? Demogorgons? Didn't matter, so long as they made it.

Will stopped, turning to face his sister. "Go through the gate, I'll- I'll meet you on the other side." "Friends don't lie, Will." He looked at her with sympathy, itching to glance over his shoulder. "I'm sorry El, but please go. I'll stay"

El knew it was no use arguing. She still wanted to. It was unfair that Will felt like he had to die for her. He wasn't even giving himself a chance!

"EL! HURRY!" The monsters were becoming visible now, four demogorgons and at least ten bats. El's pulse quickened. She had to do something! Maybe if she ran and ran to the gate, Jonathan or Steve or Nancy would come back with her to save Will. She couldn't blow them all up in such short time without getting herself killed too.

Will grabbed his staff, a leather-wrapped sign post called Sting, and prepared to defend himself. El made for the gate, feet barely grazing the dirt. As she prepared to jump in though, a gasp seemed to cut her ears. A thud.

El found herself jumping over the gate and skidding stop before turning on her heels to face it.

If the demogorgon had a face, it would be sneering at El. Its claws were stuck in Will's chest, and it shook the body like a doll trying to free them.

A surge of fire jostled in El's heart and reverberated in her all the way up to her throat from which a primal scream was let loose, seemingly bouncing against the sky. Watering eyes from spores, grief and anger, El sprinted towards the monstrous creature which no longer looked like an animal and now like Vecna's fucking puppet, claws of her own outreached in preparation to tear it apart at the seams.

El was jerked back, coming to her senses in a moment only to find the barbed spear of a demobat's long demon tail thrusting from beneath her sternum, an all too familiar and all too warm, inviting, spatter accompanying. El was lifted slightly off the ground before the barbed tail ripped back through her flesh, dropping her onto the ground where she'd never get up from.

As if the pain shaking through all her bones wasn't enough, four sets of fangs jabbed into El's neck and limbs. She might have bit her tongue off from the pain. El foggily searched for the sight of her free arm, stretching it to feel for her brother nearby, if he wasn't dead already.

El found that Will had done the same, meeting her eyes as he coughed out seven words and about a many ounces of blood.

"I'm never leaving you alone again, okay?"

El could almost laugh. A tear made its way into the crease of her smile as she whispered back "Never."

As if he could hear it.

[tenseoyong]

Thinking about Alpha!Eddie scenting Omega!Reader.

He’s so incredibly possessive and protective over his mate—before his claim and just as bad afterwards—he’s determined to make sure you smell like him and nothing but him at all times.

In Eddie’s mind, there was no better way to achieve that than to cover you in his cum. He’s very adamant about taking you at least twice a day—morning and night—filling you until your poor cunt can’t hold any more, his thick, milky cum leaking as his knot deflated.

Eddie was particularly fond of pulling your slick-soiled panties back in place as soon as he’s able to pull out, letting the soft fabric catch all his escaping spunk, and having you go about your day with the mess in your panties, stating, “You get so excited so easily every time you see me, can smell you from the other side of school if I tried hard enough. Bet any other alpha could too, smell that sweet, sweet cunt between your legs—but we can’t have that, can we?—Now they’ll smell me first, smell my claim before they even see you, won’t they?”

You’d have a hard time finding a single pair of panties you owned that didn’t carry the stain of his seed.

Even once, when Eddie had been cheeky and decided to buy a special lingerie set for you to enjoy together, he’d ruined the panties before you’d even opened the present. Eddie, having used the garment to wrap around his own cock before your arrival one evening, imagined of you dressed in the delicate lace—the red dye of the fabric contrasting with his cloudy spunk—until he spilled in his own hand.

Sometimes, for added affects, he just smears his own mess across your skin, and sends you on your way.

Particularly during your heats. Suppressants helped to aid in your ache and yearning for him, and somewhat dulled your natural omega sent so you could continue attending classes without sending every alpha near in a frenzy. Yet, Eddie was convinced every other alpha in city limits was leering at you—perhaps, a bit of his own paranoia—but he wasn’t one for taking any chances.

He made sure your panties were covered, trying desperately to mask the faux scent of your slick he was convinced he could smell a mile away—even going as far as to freshen them up in between classes, hastily jerking himself until he spilled onto your already spiked underwear while you dutifully held your skirt hem up for Eddie to have a clear shot.

Your skirt no doubt held a wet spot by the end of the day, yet it wasn’t from your own biological arousal—but Eddie’s cum soaking through your cotton panties and soiling your outer garments as well.

But that wasn’t enough, not to Eddie’s possessive-crazed mind. While he made sure your slick was overpowered by his own juices, Eddie had to do something about your scent glands.

There was no way, anyone wouldn’t be able to smell Eddie’s claim laid on you before you even stepped through a doorway—but what if, when you walked past the several alphas of the basketball team at lunch, and they’d manage to separate his smell flooding your panties and the sweet scent drifting from either side of your throat?—but Eddie would rather be sure, be over cautious than to have to bare his teeth and fight a cluster of brain-dead morons over his omega.

Again.

So, during the transition from 4th period to lunch, Eddie made quick work of spilling himself into your panties for the umpteenth time—your poor panties unable to contain the constant flood of fluids—and as a stray drop of cum made its way slowly down the inside of your thigh, Eddie’s pointer finger was quick to scoop it up.

With his nose pressed against your cheek, still breathing heavily from having cum so many times in so few hours, Eddie’s finger was shaking as he held it between both of your eyes. Letting your gentle gaze settle on the glob—barely a drop compared to the ocean of cum nestled against your cunt—and watched as it slowly slid down his finger towards his palm.

“I can still smell you.” Eddie’s growl sent shivers down your spine, your whole body shaking in his hold. The displeased tone in your alpha’s voice digging into your submissive brain. A small whimper slipped from your lips, as Eddie’s curled in anger. “If I can, those meatheads can. So sweet, like fucking sugar. You smell like a damn dream, angel, what am I supposed to do with you?”

Unable to answer, all you could do was what your instincts asked you to—submit and hope for mercy.

Whimpers continued to pour from your lips.

A gentle “please..”

You tipped your head back, scalp scratching against the painted brick of the bathroom you two were stowed away in—and bared your throat.

Eddie’s huff was loud, the puff of hot air fanning across your clammy skin. And when you expected Eddie’s sharp teeth to tear a new mark into your throat, his gentle touch was entirely unexpected.

His cum-covered finger softly traced your jaw line. Just below your ear, and brushing over the gland hidden just below your soft skin. Tenderly stroking the skin as if he were applying a perfume—to Eddie, he might as well have been—he did the same to the other side of your neck.

Replacing his finger with his thumb, Eddie’s was kind as he rubbed his cum onto you. The sheer liquid blending out with your skin easily, disappearing before his hard eyes.

But the smell—his smell—stayed obvious as ever.

Nosing your glands, Eddie was pleased to find his scent was now overpowering the sweet smell you oozed.

Your scent was still there. Much less obvious, now. But Eddie would always be able to find that nectar-like scent anywhere.

But to anyone else, you would simply smell like an Eddie Munson duplicate.

For the first time in the last five hours, Eddie would smile, a genuinely pleased smile, “There, you smell just like me, now. C’mon, let’s go find some food. You’ll need the energy for later, baby. You did so good for me, my perfect little omega, so good.”

Or.

When he isn’t fucking you at every conceivable opportunity, Eddie is determined to ruin your delicious, tempting omega scent for any foolish alpha that would dare look your way—knowing you were claimed—and know you were his and his alone.

After gym, when Eddie’s dripping with sweat and testosterone and pheromones—he seeks you out. Or stalks you out, rather. Knowing where you would likely be relaxing in between periods, but finding it much more thrilling to let his nose guide him, your sickly sweet scent being so easy to pick out from the sea of his peers as he follows it to the dusty library.

He’s breathing hard, very much audible through the quiet room full of books when he spots you—tucked away in the furthest corner—and with Eddie’s scent quickly dominating the stuffy room, his heart quickly warms with pride when he watches you tilt your head back slightly, carefully sniffing the air before excitedly turning and beaming at him.

My mate. His heart sings. Mine.

He’s on you before you could even rise from your chair, strong hands grasp your upper arms and pull you to him.

Your nose pressed right into the hallow of his throat, his natural scent and sticky sweat filling your senses and clouding your mind—your instincts having you tuck yourself under his chin, enjoying Eddie’s wide frame that seemed to cover you entirely.

His gym clothes—a simple plain tee shirt, and shorts—and soaked with sweat, his shirt nearly see-through. Eddie pressed you so tightly to his lean torso, his sweat transferring onto your own shirt, dampening the fabric with the overwhelming smell of Eddie.

The way Eddie nuzzles against your hair is uncharacteristically sweet for an alpha. But the purpose behind said action, screamed dominance.

Wiping the sweat rolling down his face against your head, the strands of now damp hair clinging to Eddie’s face as he hunches over to continue. Pushing his nose against your throat so hard it’s momentarily difficult to breath until he’s moved his focus to your shoulders, exposed by your sleeveless top.

Eddie lulled his tongue across the long-since healed bite mark, his claim. Leaving a thick trail of spit in his wake.

For a brief moment, Eddie appreciated the beautiful mix of marks he’d left the night before that still lingered along your throat and shoulders, accentuating his mark.

Carefully sniffing your warmed skin, Eddie was pleased to find very little of your own precious omega scent, nearly entirely covered up by his own smell.

“Better.” Eddie hummed. A low growl of pride rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your head and filling your mind. Your own purr of contentment was music to Eddie’s ears. “Much better.”

[inactivestblog]

Headcanons for Eddie when his first time with his partner ?

Hey there, anon! I'm assuming you mean first time sexually with him, so here ya go! I wrote this with a gender neutral partner in mind!

▪︎ First off, Eddie is not a virgin. He doesn't have a TON of practical experience, but he's definitely had his fair piece of ass.

▪︎ Speaking of, this man is an ass man. No matter the gender on someone, a good looking ass sends him to heaven in a matter of seconds.

▪︎ He's got some pretty interesting kinks for sure (please someone give me an excuse to elaborate on this, I have THOUGHTS), but during his first time with you his one and only priority is making sure you're feeling 100% comfortable, and will be a soft boy.

▪︎ He loves to use teasing as a form of foreplay, so you can expect lots of light touching, some dirty talk (only mild before he knows what you like and not), and switiching between fast movements with his hands and slow movements

▪︎ Oh dear gods, his hands

▪︎ The man knows how to please a person. He's a very attentive lover, so it doesn't take long for him to figure out what hand movements gets you going and what doesn't quite do it for you

▪︎ Genuinely enjoys giving oral. Grabbing his partner's legs with his hands and squeezing them lightly, pinning them down as his lips and tongue do all the work, the whole fucking schbang

▪︎ Since it's your first time  he feels inclined to take it slow, he just wants to feel you and the bond between you two (assuming you're in a relationship, one night stands are a whole pther deal)

▪︎ His favourite form of aftercare is cuddling and watching bad horror movies that make you laugh. He just wants to have a good  lighthearted time with you after you've exhausted yourselves

▪︎ Will literally worship every single detail of your body. He sees everything and loves it all

[chalametluvrz]

love drunk

eddie munson x neutral!reader

tags gender neutral language. reader and eddie are best friends. boarding school!au. reader going on a date with random oc. jealous eddie. oblivious reader. secret crushing. alcohol abuse. getting drunk. smoking weed. vomiting. drunk and high eddie. drunk confessions. reader taking care of eddie. fluff towards the end.

wc 1.9k

eddie couldn't stand it. hearing you bang on about your upcoming date, despite his oh so obvious attempts at flirting with you. but what hurt more was that it was with no one other than joe fucking sanchez; some stupid kid that worked in a local cafe and that just so happened to have picked on eddie throughout his entire childhood.

you knew he hated joe, but you always insisted that the arrogant boy was sorry and had changed since the mishap last year. eddie never believed you though, always insisting that joe was precisely the same as he was before and that he was just trying to fool you, and everyone else.

joe had never given you a reason to dislike him recently, he'd been sweet and polite, even slightly flirty so it wasn't surprising when he asked you to meet him after his 6pm finish to go on a small coffee date. you could say anything but yet, you'd spend years pining over eddie for him to never even notice your feelings so what was the harm in putting yourself out there?

"why did you have to say yes to him?" eddie scoffs, looking through his sketchbook, quickly turning over the sketches of you.

"do we have to go over this again?" you ask him "i said yes because i think i like him," you continue "okay? end of discussions, and all other discussions about this topic."

"fine," he huffs, throwing his book to the side of him "i just don't get what you see in him," eddie mumbled "i just thought it'd be fun for us to go to that party together and get high, you know? but i guess not."

eddie grabbed his book and stormed out of your room, leaving you confused and baffled about his attitude towards you ever since he found out of whatever thing you and eddie had.

"hey joe," you smiled lightly, still unable to get eddie out of your mind. everything about him had been bugging you lately, he'd been so off, and it wasn't just because i was going out with the person he painted to be his so-called 'arch nemesis.' there was more going on but typical eddie, he refused to tell you anything.

"you look so pretty," joe smiled at you "you want your usual? i'll make it before i clock out for the day." you nod at his question, giving him a quiet 'please.'

"are you okay?" he asks, looking at you in worry. "you seem slightly preoccupied up here," joe adds, lightly tapping your head with his finger as you did. god, it must be prominent in your thoughts for it to be written all over your enough for jiyun to notice.

"it's eddie," you mumble "he's being off with me, and i'm not used to it... we've been best friends for years and he's never once been like this with me," you explain, opening up to joe about the longer haired boy despite their obvious past with each other.

"does he know about our date?"

"yeah..." you sigh, walking up to the counter as joe started prepping your drink.

"then there's your answer," joe smiled at you with a saddened expression. "he really doesn't like me and seeing you, his best friend, go out with me has probably struck a few nerves. it's understandable, i just wished he could learn to forgive me and then it wouldn't be awkward for you."

"yeah, that's probably it." "i just hate it, you know?"

whilst you were sulking about joe and his current behaviour towards you; the boy was sat, chatting with steve, a freshly lit blunt in his left hand.

"i just... they know i hate him," eddie whines. whenever he got a little too drunk or stoned he always acted like a baby; he got whiny, emotional and extremely stubborn with his thinking. it was something you, and all the nightshades had to quickly learn to get accustomed to because he truly was a sensitive soul already, never mind when he was intoxicated. "and it's so obvious i like them, they're so oblivious sometimes, why can't they notice? you all do."

steve chuckled at the boys' complaints, thinking about how ironic what eddie was saying actually is. he was whining about how you never noticed eddie's feelings when eddie himself had never noticed yours despite how sickeningly noticeable it was to everyone else. you were both dumb in his eyes, both as oblivious as each other.

"dude.. you should just tell them," steve says, taking a hit of his blunt. "you're both so dumb.. can you see how she likes you back?"

"obviously not if they're going a date with joe," eddie mutters, bottom lip sticking out.

"or maybe they're trying to put themselves out there in an attempt to get over you because they think you don't like them," steve chuckled slightly because he knew that's exactly what it was; you'd told him yourself. "how do i get through your head that they're crushing on you so hard."

"keep thinking that, mingi," e wafddiefled on, "but you're mistaken, i know you are. why would they like me anyway?" "what is there to like?"

"eddie, you really need to get your head out of your ass."

some time had passed and eddie still hadn't moved from the same place, sat sulking the entire time; the only thing that had changed was the beer bottle in one hand and the bud that was in the other.

his lack of attention towards the party was honestly worrying steve so he decided to send you a text.

steve: 'hey y/n! i know you're on a date, but eddie's really acting weird and i really don't think he'll phase out of it until you talk to him'

your phone lights up as you sit across the table from joe, and you shift your gaze to it, noticing it was a text from steve. what could he possibly want? you thought he would be lights-out drunk with yunho at this party...

"sorry joe, let me just reply to this, it's steve," you smile, quickly picking your phone to quickly see what the snake haired boy had to say.

steve: 'he's really stuck on this joe thing.. but it's for a different reason than what you're thinking. he's been sat sulking all night, on the verge of tears over how you never notice him but you notice joe. please, whenever you can, come talk to him because there's so much he wants to say to you, he just never does.'

your eyes widen as you read the text. you really didn't know eddie was as stuck on this joe thing as much as you thought, but it must have hit him bad for him to be on the verge of tears.

"joe.. i.. i'm really sorry," you start off, pouting slightly, "but i've got to go," you continue, quickly collecting your stuff.. "it's ed-" "eddie," joe cuts you off with a smile. "yeah..." you sigh, feeling bad for ditching him.

"i'm not annoyed y/n, i understand," joe smiles "you're good for each other. go talk to him, he needs you."

"thank you, joe, thank you so much," you smile. "i enjoyed today.. i just-" "y/n, you need to go," joe chuckled, watching you leave the cafe quickly.

you quickly weaved and bended around the crowds of people before seeing steve and robin.

"y/n!" steve yells as he sees your figure in the corner of his eye. "i'm really sorry to text you on your date.. but eddie," steve trailed off.

"it's no worries at all, eddie. where is he?" you ask softly.

"he went off to his room around 10 minutes ago, he looked like he was about to cry," steve said, giving you a sad smile before you quickly made your way to eddie's room.

you knocked on his door quickly, knowing that he'd probably tripped over a good few things and hurt himself in his drunken state. but there was no reply.

"eddie?" you call out, knocking on the door again.

"y/n?" he asks, voice slurred out, "wait.. it can't be y/n, they're on a date with joe, they wouldn't be here for me."

"eddie, it's me," you chuckle, letting yourself in.

"what are you doing here?" he asks. eddie was lying on his bed, a bottle of beer in his hand and an exhausted expression on his face. the redness surrounding his eyes showed he'd either been crying or rubbing his eyes to stop himself from crying.

"steve told me you were acting off," you admitted "he knows nobody can get you to talk like me," you continue, sitting on the space beside him.

"i just.. never mind," eddie sighs "it's nothing."

"please speak to me," you hum, budging closer to him. "steve said you needed to tell me something, something that you can never find the time to say," you edge him on, hoping that'd help him figure out what to say.

"it's just.. promise this won't change anything?"

"it won't eddie."

"i like you," he blurts out "heck, i think i love you. and seeing you go on a date with another guy, especially joe, fucking hurts. i'm so obvious about the way i feel and you never seem to fucking notice me," eddie pouts, his voice almost sounding desperate, as if he was longing for you for some time. "i just wanted you to notice me.." he sighs, eyes welling up with tears, "i just wanted you to turn around to me one day and say you liked me back to, but you never did.."

everything he was saying took you back. you were utterly shocked. eddie liked you back? was he really obvious about his feelings and you had just never noticed it at all? but you'd always thought you were obvious about how you felt towards him... maybe you were both as oblivious as each other.

"eddie, i.." "and this is where you tell me that you don't like me back, that things could never work between us, that we're just friends," eddie interrupts, mind obviously frazzled from the drink, "that i'm just a stupid boy... with a stupid crush..." he rolls off, the sadness oozing in his voice.

"eddie, that's not-" "you don't even have to say it, y/n, i already know what you're going to say."

"eddie!" you yell, catching him off guard.

"what?" he asks, confused.

"i like you too," you smile, looking at him directly in the eyes.

"you.. you do?" eddie asks, eyes widening.

"yeah..."

"but.. but joe.." he mumbles.

"i went on the date with him because i thought you'd never like me back so i thought i'd put myself out there to see if i'd work out with anyone else," you say to him "me and joe don't have anything, he told me to come here, to come and see you."

"so.. you like me?" he asks, giggling a little. the person he's had a crush on for years actually likes him back? for real?

"yes eddie, i like you," you say "now can please get you cleaned and covered up... you've got beer down your shirt and you're high as hell," you chuckle, giving him a small smile. "how does a coffee sound?"

eddie nods. "sounds perfect."

[ilovetulips]

BEST FRIENDS?

steve harrington x fem!reader

𖦹 pool day as per steve’s invitation to the ‘gang’ , yet he hadn’t expected to admit his feelings for his crush.

𖦹 swearing, alcohol mentions, mom steve, best friends to lovers? ig?, kissing!! sfw

𖦹 2.3k

—

it was a hot day in hawkins, a rare occurrence really. the sun glaring down upon the ground caused everyone to go into a panicked frenzy on how to cope with the heat. lucky for you, steve harrington had a huge house with a pool in his garden. and sun loungers! could life be more perfect?

he’d invited everyone around to have a pool party, and he means everyone. dustin and his gang, robin, nancy, eddie and even jonathon. you were already at his house before everyone arrived, being his best friend you practically lived there. he shares half his wardrobe with you, so you had everything you need when you stay for a sleepover.

you were changing into more appropriate swim attire when the doorbell sounded throughout the house, steve rushing to the door and muffled sounds of him and the large gathering crowding his doorway talking to each other echoed through the ceiling. you’d grown used to tuning them out, changing into your favourite red bikini and getting ready to sunbathe.

“hey man, thanks for inviting us. don’t know what we’d do without your pool.” eddie expressed.

“no problem! straight through to the back door guys, i’m just gonna grab some snacks n’ shit to put out.” the host says, walking towards his kitchen unaware of the short haired girl following behind him.

“where is she?” robin whispered, making steve quite literally jump out of his skin.

“shit! what the fuck is wrong with you? where’s who?”

“your girlfriend. duh.”

“she’s— she’s not my girlfriend, robs. and she’s upstairs getting ready, i think.” he turns around, avoiding her piercing stare.

“uh huh… not your girlfriend but she basically lives here. you guys constantly flirt too. you ever gonna tell her how you feel?”

“tell who how steve feels? do you have a crush! why didn’t you tell me?” you feel your heart twang with pain when you heard robin ask steve that question, the rest being muted by their whispers.

“[Y/N]! hey. heyy…” steve tries to act casually, his second ‘heyy’ being dragged out as he leaned onto his counter. his eyes widened and his confidence faded when he trailed his eyes down your body. he was screwed.

“hey [Y/N]! shit, you look good. red’s your colour. i’m gonna… check that everyone hasn’t completely destroyed steve’s yard.”

you giggle, the sound permeating through steve’s entire being. “thanks, robin. you look great too! always do, i’m jealous.”

“pshh! i’m the jealous one. see you soon!” she walks away, leaving you and steve in the large kitchen. it felt so small to him, as if the walls were closing in. he couldn’t focus properly on anything other than you, attempts to force out words proved null.

“you… okay? you look a bit flustered.” you say, voice concerned as you step closer to him.

“fine! m’ fine. just getting snacks. you look… amazing.”

“thanks, stevie. it’s not… too much? maybe i should just stick to the black swim suit.”

“no! no. shit no. this… looks so good on you. so so good. gonna have everyone in awe of you, babe.”

you blush. “you need any help?”

“should be good, you relax outside and i’ll bring everything out in a sec ‘kay?”

as soon as you step out you’re hit instantly by the everlasting hawkins heat, quickly followed by the sound of the kids splashing in the pool. you find yourself walking towards the sun loungers, and sitting on the free one next to eddie.

the sound of the sticky footsteps growing closer to him cause him to look up, lowering his sunglasses. you’d settled down, book in hand and were quickly immersed in the plot. however it didn’t last long, as eddie let out an obnoxiously loud whistle.

“goddamn, [Y/L/N]. givin’ me a heart attack over here. that colour on you… wow. bet harrington had a brain aneurysm when he saw you in that.” he comments, settling on his side to chat to you.

“thank you, eds. that means alot, pinky swear.” you let out a small laugh, leaning over to look at the curly haired boy next to you. “wait what d’you mean?”

“oh nothing… nothing.” he sends a wink your way, before standing up and running towards the pool, canon-balling in and splashing the kids in the pool. why he did that was beyond you, but it’s eddie. you’ve learned not to question his actions.

“[Y/N]! hey! it’s been a while.” the sound of nancy’s voice snap you out of your thoughts, as she waves her hand as an invite to come over. you stand next to her lounger, covered by the large umbrella overtop of you all.

“ohmygod nance! you look so good, i’m obsessed with the hair. hey jonathon! how’re you? i’ve missed both of your faces.”

“i’m obsessed with you! this whole…” she waves her hand in circles. “you just look stunning.”

“we’ve missed you too, i’ve been good. too hot to handle though so i’ve been hiding in my house. i burn too easily.” jonathon says, laying next to nancy on his sunbed completely encased in the shade.

“you guys are the sweetest—“ you’re interrupted by hands wrapping around your waist, and you being lifted up into the air. involuntary squeals leave your mouth as the culprit spins you around in the air slightly. smirks plaster nancy and jonathon’s face, as they look at eachother knowingly before laying down and minding their own business.

“keep squealing like that and you’re going in the pool, missy.”

“steve!” you manage to escape his grip, looking up at his grin you loved so much with wide eyes and heavy breaths.

“you’re insane!” you say, walking back to the seat you’d claimed before talking to nancy.

“only for you, sweetheart. you drive me insane with this.” he pulls back the strap of your bikini top, the material snapping back against your shoulder with a loud sound.

“shut up. you’re such an idiot.” you mumble shyly. you’d never been one to be nervous when people compliment you, but steve’s were different. they seemed more heartfelt, but that’s probably because you had a raging crush on him. cliche to have a crush on your best friend right?

“heard that. c’mere.”

“steve! no!” you laugh, as he stalks towards you to grab your waist. matching his pace as you walk backwards, he lunged towards you and slings you over his shoulder.

you’re in hysterics, laughing loudly and swelling steve’s heart with adoration as he relished in the sound of your joy. eddie turns around in the pool to face you two, interrupting his tormenting of dustin. steve and him make eye contact, immediately catching on to each other’s plan.

“you ready, sweetheart?” steve whispers to you.

“what? ready for wha—“

you should’ve expected it, but steve had threw you in the pool. eddie was there to catch you so your landing wasn’t painful as you slapped the water, your arms flailing as you flew through the air. as you swim back up to the surface, the sound of the kids laughs (mostly dustin’s) filled your ears. steve diving in next to you and holding your waist when he floats to the top.

“what the fuck?!”

“language, [Y/L/N], there’s children around.” eddie chimes in sarcastically.

“sock it, munson. or i’ll tell them what i caught you doing the other week.”

“woahhh i need to know this, what’ve you been up to eddie?” steve plays along, hands still on your hips as he guides you to the pool walls.

eddie instantly panics, his mouth closing as he swims away to the opposite end of the pool; not failing to send daggers your way.

“you really do look beautiful today, you know.” steve sheepishly says, faking confidence to mask his internal panic mode.

you wrap your arms around his neck. “thank you, stevie. you look real handsome too. cute little happy trail.” a smile makes it way onto your face.

“oh yeah?” he replies, eyes locking onto your lips.

“oh yeah, totally. i’m swooning over you, harrington.”

“me too… have been for so long.” he says, trying to keep his voice down to not attract attention from the nosey group.

“w-what?” you look down to his lips too, looking even more inviting than they’d been before.

your thoughts, however, are clouded when the boy in front of you pressed his lips to yours. a perfect puzzle, pushing against each other firmly and parting slightly. the feeling is better than you’ve ever imagined, and you’ve imagined it alot.

“okay, lovebirds. i’m hungry, sorry to interrupt this beautiful moment but i want food, harrington. so get that bbq started once you’ve finished kissing our favourite girl.” steve pulls away to the sound of a tired robin’s voice.

“yeah… yeah whatever.” steve mumbles into your neck, meeting your lips again after not paying attention what robin said entirely. he was happy with his girl, in the pool under the sunlight.

“harrington! c’mon man.”

“god… fine. fine! i’m fucking coming.”

your head was still clouded and you were seeing white. had that really just happened? where does that leave you and steve? you lean against the wall and let yourself sink under the water, hoping the silence underneath would help soothe your thoughts.

that was until you’re met with a nosey max mayfield looking back at you with her lime green goggles protecting her eyes, earning a scream that was quite literally just bubbles exiting your mouth.

you rush back to the surface, watching her bright hair rise up too. her freckled face holding a glowing smile, knowing of the events that just happened between you and steve. you had forgotten people were around, his lips put your in a trance of your own little world. just you and him.

“don’t you dare say a word, mayfield. don’t make me tell everyone about you and lucas making out the other day.”

“secret safe with me.” the girl says, sinking back down to swim below the world.

—

the sun was beginning to set, the air cooling down and you all laying on the sun-beds surrounding the pool. you lay between steves legs, back placed on his abs as he played with your hair.

everyone was quiet, taking in the delicate moment of purples and pinks painting the sky. “anyone want a beer?” steve says, reaching towards to cooler next to him and biting the lid off with his teeth. you sit up and move to the bed next to him, steve watching with furrowed brows as he watched; missing the warmth of your body.

everyone old enough to have one takes one, steve offering for everyone to sleep at his house so nobody had to worry about driving home. lucas playing it cool as he tries to grab a beer steals your attention as you watch him with an amused smile.

“hey! sinclair. back up, you little shit.” steve shouts, lucas looking at him with shocked eyes as he fully believed he got away with it. scared by steve’s ‘mom mode’, he shamefully walks back towards the boy towering over him and hands over the bottle.

you can’t help but laugh at the situation; the sad look on lucas’ face, the pointed stare steve was giving him and the giggles from eddie behind you. you couldn’t help turning around and laughing with eddie. everyone else caught and erupted in a fit of giggles too, but steve was only focused on the sound of your laugh.

he snakes his hand around your ankle, pulling you towards him. you can tell he’s being needy, so decide to ignore it just to tease him. eddie sees the mischievous glint in your eyes and decides to watch this unravel.

out of desperation, he trails his other hand along your waist, fanning his hand out against your stomach to get your attention. “babe.” you ignore him. “[Y/N], babe.” the petname rung through your ears, you’d never thought much of it before until he’d kissed you in the pool. he huffs in frustration before grabbing your legs and shoulders to lift you up bridal-style.

“why’re you ignoring me? did i do something?” he says, slight insecurity lacing his sweet voice.

“oh! stevie no, i was jus’ messing with you. you were being needy so i wanted to play around, that’s all.” you say to him wholeheartedly.

he walks you towards the house, leaving everyone in the garden to have their own conversations. he wanted to steal you away, tell you how crazy you make him, how deep he was in for you. he places you on his couch, sitting next to you uncomfortably while he messes with his fingers. yet it’s quickly stopped when you place your hand over his.

“[Y/N]…”

“i know, steve. i know.”

“how?” he stares up at you with pinched eyebrows. small wrinkles littering his forehead that you wanted to desperately smooth out with your thumb.

“nobody kisses their best friend out of the blue steve. especially not like that…”

“like what, hm? remind me, i’ve forgotten.”

you chuckle before leaning into him and speaking against his lips.

“we’re so hopeless.”

you crash your lips together, instant bliss flooding from each other’s mouths into the small bubble building around you two. hands grazing delicately on one another’s faces as the kiss grows more passionate, emotions radiating off of the two of you.

“you’re perfect for me, [Y/N]. so, so perfect for me.” the disheveled boy states, pulling away quickly before diving back in again; kissing you with twice as much force.

[ykwritesotherstuff]

Hellfire heart|| E.M|| Prologue (Rewritten)

Summary: Just another Eddie Munson fanfic that you´ll have to read and see what happens because Idk how it´s going to go and also this is my second time rewriting this stuff so... yeah.

Note: I will be using characters and some details I like from the show but don´t come at me if something is not canon because I´ll be making up a lot of stuff.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader.

What the fuck am I doing here?

This might’ve been the worst idea I’ve ever had. I don’t smoke weed or take any other drugs. Having my brain affected by a substance? No thanks, even less in this fucking town, because, you know, a monster might decide to try destroy the world at any given moment.

I’m not exaggerating, it happened last year when I moved to Hawkins during the summer. And it happened big time, russians opening a secret portal and a big -disgusting- fleshy monster destroying the new mall… that type of insane.

Terrible choice of friends too, because they happened to be the ones putting their lives on the line to save everyone. Of course I joined them, I was not about to chicken out.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore them, but that adventure was too adrenaline filled to handle.

Now, I better get to the point.

Where were we?

Right.

About to knock on a trailer park door.

My fist loudly crashes against white, run down metal as I regret my life choices.

I can hear things moving inside and a muffled male voice saying something I don’t quite catch before the door flies open.

All I see is long curly hair, tattoos and silver rings accompanied by a confused face.

Eddie Munson in the flesh.

“Huh, weird seeing you here”he says, arching a brow “how can I help you?”

“I want to buy weed”

My voice doesn’t sound convinced, rather questioning and unsure, but a girl gotta do what she gotta do.

Eddie instantly falls into his usual theatrics, reacting as if my request is so crazy he will faint.

“You, weed?”he scream-whispers with a hand on his chest.

“Yes, Munson” I fix my posture, trying to appear confident.

“Last time I saw you, you almost punched me in the face because I sell”he stops for a moment, adding dramatic effect “and now you want to buy”

He is right, but I did it for a solid reason, I intimidated him when I found out he was friends with Dustin, Lucas and Mike and my protective ass had to make sure he didn’t even think about selling to them.

“Munson” I reach in my pocket and take out a 20, a lot more agressive than before“are you gonna sell me that shit or not?”

“Jeez” he audibly sighs, stepping back to let me in “I can’t do it in plain sight, obviously”

Instead of responding I just nod and step inside to find a messy living room, coffee table full of cigarettes and empty beer cans and various clothes scattered on the floor.

Eddie closes the door and disappears into what I assume is his room. Not too hard to guess since the small portion of it I see has heavy metal posters plastered on the walls. Very fitting for him.

Standing here, reality starts to dawn on me harder, the shit I do for the kids is fucking unreal.

“With 20, this is what you get”

He has come back, holding a small plastic bag for me to take.

“Thank you, Munson” I extend my arm to take it with full intention on leaving as fast as I can.

However, Eddie retrieves his hand quickly and puts the bag in the front pocket of his dark ripped jeans.

“Before we finish this fun transaction, tell my why you’re getting it” a shit eating grin crosses his lips.

“Why do you care?”

“Because this is not your style”

“If you don’t want the money then fine, I’ll find another dealer”

There’s no reason why he should know what I plan on doing, no one has to know at all.

“Tell me and I’ll give you a discount” he insists.

“I’ll pass”

“Ten dollars instead of twenty”

He bothers me in general, but now I want to punch him more than usual. A discount doesn´t sound too bad, having in mind that I´m broke, but I´m mad that I have to tell him my plans to get it.

Again, the shit I do for the kids...insane.

''You know Jason?''I ask, tired of this situation even before it started.

''What Jason?''

''That stupid basketball player''

''Carver?''his eyes grow wide as he dramatically covers his mouth in disbelief ''What does that asshole have to do with this?''

''I heard from the kids that he´s messing with them''

''Yeah, he is a bully after all''

''He also pretends to like Lucas and then talks shit, Max told me she overheard some stuff''

''And what does this have to do with weed?''

''I will be putting it in his backpack or something and then report him anonymously''

''What?''he jumps back screaming, clearly excited to hear this '' That´s fucking badass''

''I guess''

''That shit can get him expelled big time''

''Little bitch needs a lesson''

''Well, I´ll give this to you for free'' he takes the bag out of his pocket and hands it out to me again ''if you let me help you''

What is this guy on? seems like he really wants to get arrested, because if someone gets accused of planting weed on other people´s backpacks...it will be him.

Anyway it´s not my problem, if he gets caught I´ll let them take the blame, so I just shrug.

''Sure''

[luveline]

𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want? [3k] 

fem!reader, shy!reader, implied inexpereinced!reader, friends-to-lovers, pining, mdni heavy petting, hickeys, lots of hickeys, marking up, neck kissing, shoulder kissing, heat of the moment confessions, eddie being flirty but also a good friend, requested here

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie strokes down the length of his guitar neck almost tenderly. You're focused on his hands rather than his mouth as he recounts last night's date to you, distracted by the deft movement of his fingers, which aren't exactly small. It's an oxymoron —paradoxical, even— that his thick fingers would move with such gentle precision. 

You shift around where you're sitting on his bedroom floor, criss-cross applesauce with an uncomfortable heat rising from the bottomless pit of your stomach to your tight collar. The white button up you'd worn under your sweater vest is a size too small. You're really starting to notice. 

You peel out of the vest and hope it'll help you calm down.

"She wasn't exactly sweet," Eddie says, plucking a string, listening to the sound, and tuning it this way or that depending on how he liked it. "I think she wanted to get it over with, which isn't really my thing. She was in my lap before I could make it clear I wasn't interested in anything quick." 

You lift your gaze from his hands. He must feel you watching his face. He looks up in tandem and smiles reassuringly. "It's fine. I kind of thought she was getting into it, she was like a vampire on me at one point, but I wasn't feeling it and it's clear she wasn't either. Drove her home. How was your night, d'you watch that tape?" 

You trace the coil of a black curl down to his shoulder, and can't force yourself to meet his eyes as you ask, "A vampire?" 

"What?" 

"She was like a vampire at one point, you said." Eddie's arm goes still. "What did you mean by that?" you ask.

He puts his guitar down on the floor. You worry you've said something truly dull for him to place his sweetheart in such a rush, but Eddie's like that. He can tell you're embarrassed no doubt, and he's giving you the answer to your question as swiftly as he can to soothe the wound. 

"Here, look," he says. He pushes his hair away from his neck on one side and tilts his head, bearing a wine-stained curve of skin to you unabashedly. "She kissed me. She gave me a hickey, used a lot of teeth. That's why it's bruised so much on the edges." 

Warmth you've never felt rushes in, like your blood has superheated, and it's written on your face. Eddie's room feels suddenly a thousand times smaller than before and more intimate, his poster wallpaper curving in, the space between you inching closer. 

"Sorry," he says, "I know it's kind of weird to show you." 

"No, I'm sorry," you say, mortified. "I shouldn't have asked you." 

"Yeah, you should. You didn't get it and now you do. I don't mind telling you." 

Eddie lets his hair fall back against his neck, a kinky curtain that looks ridiculously soft in the orangey light of his lamp. There's a butter smoothness to it, and the way he moves as he does is worse, his hand open and reaching for you. He doesn't hold your hand, doesn't even try, just lets his upturned palm hang off the edge of his knee as if to say, Ask me whatever it is you want to ask me. It's cool. 

"Why would she do that?" you ask, gesturing to your neck.

"It's not her fault, I was flirting with her a ton trying to make it work."

"Not like that." 

Eddie's hand turns toward his knee. "Like what?" 

Your hand drifts to your own neck absentmindedly. You get kissing, wanting to be kissed and wanting to give them. You understand why she kissed his neck; if you'd been in her position, alone in the car with Eddie laying his charm on thick, you might climb the console and push aside his hair too. 

"I know why she kissed you. I don't see why she…" You rub your lips together, your embarrassment turning sharp. You hate how humiliating this feels. "I know what a hickey is, Eds, but why would you want one?" 

His turn to fluster. The tiniest tinge of pink paints his cheeks. "Are you asking me why I enjoyed it?" 

"Did you?" 

You despise yourself, truly. Worse when Eddie laughs, his chest forward, hair falling in his face as he chuckles sincerely. 

"Yeah," he says, smiling at you "I liked it. Before she started trying to kill me I was having a good time." 

He doesn't put you through the agony of asking what you both know he wants to. 

You've never had one?

"It feels warm, and it's– you know how being kissed gives you butterflies, right? It's better than that. It's hot, and all her weight is on you and you have your hand on her back trying to pull her in, and she's as close as she can be without, you know." Something flickers across Eddie's face. Not longing, but a remembered pleasure. It makes you squirm. 

"I don't see how it doesn't just hurt." 

The hand that hadn't been reaching for you holds a pick. He flashes it between his fingers, a party trick, a nervous tic, his eyelashes tangling together as his eyelids inch closed. He scrunches his face up for a second. 

"Don't hate me if I ask you something weird," Eddie says, eyes shut tight. 

You don't think you could. You watch Eddie's face, knowing he can't see your analysis, and feel a shock of pins and needles in your hands when his eyes open and immediately lock on to yours. 

"Do you want me to give you one?" he asks. 

Your lips feel like they've been glued shut. You're aware of your breathing, how shallow each inhale has become, but you can't do anything about it. 

He has the decency to acknowledge what position his question puts you in, "I know it might be weird but I can't describe it to you if you don't know what it feels like." 

You surprise him. You surprise yourself. "Uh, yeah. Okay." 

"Yeah?" 

"It doesn't hurt?" 

"Not unless you want it to." A hint of a smirk plays on his lips, though it fades quickly. "It doesn't hurt. That's not the point. But it can feel… foreign." 

You nod jerkily, wishing you knew what to do. 

The atmosphere is thick enough to cut through. Neither of you like it. Eddie gives you another type of smile, a familiar one that says, I'm your best friend, I always will be, so please chill out. 

"You're gonna have to sit in my lap." 

You actually laugh. "Eddie," you chastise, thinking it's a bad joke. 

"Sorry, sweetheart, but it's that or the bed." His teasing tone is light, but he still adds, "I mean, we can do it sitting next to each other but it's difficult. Whatever you want, though." 

You climb up on your knees. You're shy, absolutely, you always will be and especially when Eddie's teasing, but he really is your best friend, and the bed isn't happening.

He doesn't scare you. 

He grins and ushers you toward him. "Alright, come here." He tugs one of your thighs over his lap and your breath catches. He grabs the other and any laughter between you abruptly dies. 

You settle over his lap with an expression not far from pained. Eddie's hands rest against your thigh and your hip. He has to look up at you now, and he does as he encourages your weight firmly downward. You're more than conscious of where you're positioned. 

"Do me a favour?" he asks. 

"Yeah." You put your hand on his chest tentatively. 

"Don't suffer through it if you hate it, okay? All you have to do is say something and I'll stop, but if you feel like you can't, a good right hook would work too." 

"I'm not gonna hurt you," you protest. 

"Me neither," he says. His hand lifts from your thigh to your neck, and he brushes his fingertips down the curve of it ineffectually. It would feel good if you weren't choking on air. "Relax, sweetheart. Please." 

"I'm really warm." 

"Your shirt's too tight anyway," he says, hand at your collar. He thumbs open your top button, a second, and exposes the flat of your chest. His fingers slide across your neck as he folds back your starched collar. They're cool compared to the raging heat he finds there. 

You take a deep breath. 

"You could put your hands in my hair," he says. Wishful thinking has hope colouring his tone. 

You put your hands on his shoulders. The very tips of your fingers partition his curls. 

He raises an arm above your mess of limbs to weave a hand behind your ear. It's then that you feel his callouses, so rough against the delicate skin of your scalp. Despite their texture, you find it feels good. He tucks his hand in tight, and slowly, slowly turns your head to the side. 

"Look up," he murmurs. 

You lift your head and stare at the ceiling with widened eyes. 

He can't know but he does, and he says, "Close your eyes." The heat of his breath kisses your neck.  

You shiver at the suggestion of his lips, and again when they press to your skin. Close-lipped, Eddie kisses the skin just under your ear where on the opposite side of your head his thumb strokes quarter circles. You're quickly overwhelmed by the duelling sensations. You don't notice his lips have parted until he's kissing a sloven path downward, his spit cooling in wake. 

This isn't a hickey, this is straight up kissing, and you don't know what to do with how you feel. You hide your hands in his hair. 

It tugs him forward. He reads your hands for enthusiasm, and if it is or isn't he pulls you closer still and opens his mouth against your skin. His teeth are impossible to ignore. 

Your hand works further into his hair, getting caught in a tangle as he sucks your skin between his lips. His lazy mouthing turns insistent but still gentle, his teeth scratching ever so slightly at your pulse as it capers beneath his ministrations. You gasp at the warmth blossoming under your ribs. You cup the back of his neck a touch too tight. 

He doesn't stop kissing you, only grabs your wrist to stop you from choking him out. You make a sound you've never made with him before, a mewl, all breathless and teary as the sensation worsens. Which is to say, betters. 

He breaks a particularly rough kiss to suck in breath, his nose sliding up the curve of your neck as he leans back. "You okay?" he murmurs, half-lidded eyes locking onto your flushed face. 

"Why does it feel like that?" you ask. 

He drops his head, his nose level with your chin. "I don't know," he says, punctuating with a kiss right there, the closest bit of skin he can find. "Want me to do it again?" 

You swallow and he must see it. He says nothing, wrapping his arms around your waist as he waits for you to respond. Your stomach pushes into his, your arms braced on his shoulder so you don't collapse into his front, limp with touch. 

"Sweetheart, can I do it again?" he asks.

"Yeah," you say, quiet but enthusiastic. "Please." 

He's slower this time. Eddie leans into your neck and doesn't kiss you at first, his lips so close to your skin that you can feel their phantom. You skin tingles from his previous scandalising, and it doesn't beg, skin can't beg, but you can, you curl your arm behind his neck and hook his head there, crushing his hair to the crook of your arm. He doesn't take much convincing beyond that. His lips smush against your neck and you feel every millimetre as they part, heat and warmth and wet spreading like budding flowers come to bloom. You melt into him soon after, and Eddie takes your weight in stride, hand at the small of your back and pulling you in so hard you can feel his ribs. 

When you think you're used to it —not used to it, but expecting what can be expected— Eddie nips you. Tiny dainty kisses broken up with a nibbling you'd couldn't describe as anything but playful. He laughs at your gasping and does it again, again, giddy hot laughter mixed with one of the strangest feelings you've ever been subjected to. You're molten. You're dizzy with it.

Eddie pulls back enough to ask, "I'm gonna undo another button, okay? Just one. Is that alright?" 

"What for?" 

"So I can kiss your shoulder. Just your shoulder." He sounds pleading, desperately excited in a way you've never heard him and you want to know what it'll feel like, so you let him. 

This next button unveils the top of your bra and the soft hills of your breasts. He doesn't look, barely glances at his hand as he tugs your shirts down your arm, diving into the juncture of your neck like he needs it to breathe. His kisses are proper compared to some of the stuff he's been doing, but then he opens his mouth and the flat of his tongue wets your skin as he kisses kisses kisses down your shoulder. His hand is somewhere under your shirt, fingers slipped under your bra strap and pulling teasingly at the elastic as he eases you down in his arms. You're shorter than him where you'd started taller, totally compressed in his arms and at his mercy.

When he pulls back, the slimmest ribbon of spit shines between your shoulder and his lips. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, his eyes glassy, and that hand cups your face. He pretty much grabs you, but there's not a lick of cruelty in his touch. Eddie's rough. Never cruel. 

"You're on fire," he says. It's objective rather than joking. "You're so hot. Do you want to stop?" 

"Not– not unless you want to," you say, trying to quieten your breathing. You sound like you've run a marathon. It feels like it. 

"I'm gonna give you a real one, cool?" 

"I didn't know they weren't real." 

"Oh, sweetheart," he says, and his eyes are damning, a loving pity in the black of his blown pupils, "I was just warming you up." 

Your mind blanks. 

"Make sure I can hide it," you say. 

You aren't thinking straight, concerned about hiding his hickeys but not what this means for the two of you. His unexpected hunger, and your willingness to let him eat you whole. 

"I don't think you can hide it anymore," he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

You look down at his lips. They're rosy, swollen from the pressure.

He sees you looking. 

He yanks you in by the waist and sizes you up, almost, like he's calling your bluff, not spiteful but something mean about him as he stares at your mouth in return. 

Like he doesn't want you to make the mistake. Like he knows you won't. 

His hand tips your chin up high and he ducks his own down. An inch and you'd be kissing. That's all it would take.

"Is that really what you want?" he asks.

"I don't know," you say. Is it what he wants?

It has to be. 

"Have you wanted to, before?" He draws a line down your cheek with his marriage finger. Fast as a heavy tear. "You want me to kiss you?" 

"Yeah," you whisper, trying to make sense of this, your sudden confession, a secret want pushed into the light. 

Eddie turns his hand and strokes down your cheek with the back of it, pushing any dampened baby hairs away from your skin. His gaze softens. 

"Was that so hard?" he asks. 

"You knew?"

He kisses you. He's smiling, and he doesn't take just one. He must kiss you four or five times, your lips parted enough to know he could push it further if he wanted, but he doesn't. These kisses are unhurried, missing the ravenous passion of his hickeying but not the fondness. 

"You don't know how hard it is," he says after he's broken away, his forehead tipped against yours, "how hard it is to have someone look at you like you look at me everyday, like I'm something you can't have." 

"I didn't know–" you knew. You felt the same. His kissing is evidence alone. it's confessional.

"I know. Guess I thought nothing good would come of it, but– but I don't want good. I want you." 

He pulls back quickly, like you've said something confessional rather than him. He surprised himself. 

"I'm not good?" you ask. 

"You're good. You'll ruin me, that's all." 

You don't have time to ask him what he means by that. He kisses you again, kisses your cheek, draws a line of crescent moons down along your neck to the mess he's made of you. He kisses– he sucks your neck so hard, so sudden, that goosebumps erupt and you can't stop yourself from saying, "Ohh," as you cling to his shoulders. 

This is the vampire thing he'd talked about, the points of his teeth stark against your skin even now. There's another layer of vulnerability unveiled here, knowing that he could really hurt you and knowing he never would. He kisses you until you're overwhelmed by him. Heat everywhere. Sweat shining on your skin. You don't want anything else but this.

You squeak as the pressure turns from pleasurable to too much. Eddie hears the pain in it and pulls away, instantly sorry and willing to prove it, his hands cradling your face. 

You pant. He shushes you gently.

"Sorry, baby." He pets your cheeks. 

Your head falls back, too heavy on your sore neck. You feel wiped. 

Wiped, but good. Lax. 

"That was nice," you say breathlessly. 

Eddie sits up and drags you with him, hand behind your neck to prop you up. He's laughing again, his awful sweet laugh that you've heard a thousand times before. It never fails to make you smile. 

"You're like a dead fish." 

You cover an eye with your hand. "I take it the romance is over." 

"You thought that was romantic? Babe, I'm only getting started." 

Eddie gives you a quick peck. Where his hickey had felt like the heart of a star growing hotter with each passing second, his smaller kiss feels like the sun through blinds, a dappling of warmth. 

"Are you messing with me?" you ask.

He pushes his arms over your shoulders for a hug. 

"No. Not messing with you." His nose rubs against the shell of your ear. "It's about time we talked." 

You let your hand drift down the dip of his back.

"Okay," you mumble. Talking. You need to talk about whatever it is that just happened. 

"...Maybe I'll get you a glass of water first," he adds.

"That's a good idea." 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, please consider letting me know/reblogging, it means the world to me and makes a big difference!! ♡ NOTE: Eddie def pines back if that isn't fully clear, I tried to imply it with his date where he could've hooked up with someone but didn't go through with it, it was cos he's too in lurve