#is right so it’s all before June 1986 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eagerbby · 2 years

Text

only you | e.m.

pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader

synopsis| You and Eddie were never meant to be just friends.

an| written in a world where Eddie was never accused, never died, and more importantly, finally graduated. not very canon, billy’s still alive and briefly mentioned. this was a quick break from a fix-it fic I’m currently writing and very much inspired by the song touch tank by quinnie. it’s eddies song and i’ll die on this hill.

warnings| oral (female receiving), PnV (protected), Eddie running his mouth, thats a warning in itself, 18+ only

[June 9, 1986]

The pitiless Indiana sun hung high in the cerulean sky, its uv-rays biting at your bare skin. The cool pool water lapping over your legs every time Eddie moved was the only relief at the moment.

“Have you ever been in the ocean?” He asked lazily, his long fingers flicking water across your bare thighs. The two of you lay opposite each other in the barely six foot wide and three foot deep blow up pool set up next to his front porch. Your feet floated next to his shoulders, grazing the freckled pale skin there every time he shifted or turned. Meanwhile, tall and gangly Eddie had his head propped up on the blue polyvinyl rim, his own feet hung over the side next to your head. He had bitched and moaned once the two of you had finally finished setting it up, “I don’t even fit all the way.” He’d complained. “Why’d you buy a damn kiddie pool?”

You had laughed at him, his pale body laying stick straight in the cool water in only a pair of plaid blue boxers. You had begged him to let you buy him a pair of swim shorts but he had refused.

“It’s just you and me, it’s not like you haven’t seen my boxers all over my bedroom floor.”

“Yeah, but what if you go to the public pool? You’ll need them then.”

“Ha. Not likely you’ll ever see Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson at the public pool. The parent’s would probably gather pitchforks and torches and hang me at the gallows.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Eds.”

“M’not. And anyway, I don’t like swimming, I’m only doing this for you.”

“My parents used to take my little brother and I to the Outer Banks when we were younger. We’d go every summer, swim in the ocean or walk the dunes to the lighthouse.” You opened your eyes to look at him only to find he’s already watching you speak, his deep brown eyes hidden behind the lens of his aviator sunglasses. His hair is almost dry now except for the ringlets that float atop his shoulders in the water. “You should probably take those sunglasses off before you get too much sun on your face. Gonna get a weird ass tan line from them.”

He does as you tell him, taking them off and tossing them onto the porch. “I’ve never been.” He said. “The ocean scares the fuck outta me. All that never ending water. Do you ever think about how many bodies are in the ocean? Lost to the dark depths of the sea.”

You sat up at his words, a perplexed look on your face as you stared at him. “Well that’s fucking morbid. Jesus Christ, Eddie.”

He only shrugged in his usual unbothered way, his knuckles grazing the skin of your thigh beneath the rippling water.

“You’ve never thought about it before?” He asked.

“Not really, no. I guess I blocked the thought from my mind. I love swimming in the ocean.”

“You love swimming with dead bodies. Got it.”

You splashed him at this, laughing as the small tidal wave blasted him. The shock of the cold water hitting his warm skin caused him to shoot up, water dripping down his face as he wrestled you backwards into the water. You squealed when he grabbed your shoulders, his hand holding the back of your neck as he dunked you. The gurgle of the water echoed your laugh and as he pulled you back up you spit a fountain of water right into his face.

“Who would have ever imagined that you, The Princess of Hawkins high and valediction, was such a freak.”

“I graduated two years ago, Eddie! Now I’m just the queen of folding panties at Starcourt mall, and failing my English lit course.”

You watched Eddie’s expression shift at the word panties, your best friend's eyes now slightly wider, his grip on the back of your neck a little harder. He was so close to you, sitting on his knees in the small pool, completely leaned over your body. You didn’t see him shirtless often and you had never seen him shirtless and so close. If you reached up you could trace the dark ink of his tattoo that sat just beneath his collarbone. Scratch your fingers against the small splattering of hair on his sternum. That strange feeling stirred in your stomach, the same one you’d been getting for a couple months now. You didn’t understand it and what made it worse was that Eddie, your best friend, was the sole cause of it.

You felt it for the first time after Eddie had fallen asleep during your weekly movie night. His head was laying on the pillow in your lap, you hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen asleep until you heard him softly snore. He’d had a bad day at school, Jason Carver and his cronies spray painting ‘Freak’ in bright red letters across the windshield of his van. When you got to his trailer later that day you found him sitting on the hood of the van with a razor blade, slowly scraping the still wet paint from the glass. You had tried helping him but he only waved you off, telling you it was fine. But his eyes were red rimmed and glassy like he’d been crying. You wanted to kill those stupid jocks, which you voiced with indignation. But Eddie had only shook his head. He wasn’t a fighter despite what the whole town thought. He just didn’t have it in him.

“Lets go.” You said softly, your hand holding onto his forearm as you looked up at him.

“What?”

“To the ocean. Let’s go to the ocean, Eddie.” It was only a whisper as it passed your lips, your eyes searching his face. His furrowed eyebrows made him appear confused, but there was something else swimming in the chocolate brown of his iris’.

“What are you talking about, Crazy?” He lazily dragged you to sit up as he shifted from his knees to stretch his long legs out in front of himself. You waited for him to get comfortable before bouncing up onto your own knees, your fingers excitedly grabbing the wet fabric of his boxers on his leg. You don’t notice his cheeks flush as his eyes quickly flashed down to your hands and back up to your eyes.

“You, Eddie Munson, are a high school graduate now. You have a whole summer before you have to start thinking about what's next! And I have some vacation time and a shoebox full of savings from the past two years.” You rambled, your smile so wide it hurts your cheeks. “We could take your van, o-or my car, and we could drive to the Outer Banks. Rent a motel and just have fun.”

“Y-you want to waste two years worth of savings to go to the beach?”

“It wouldn’t be a waste, Eddie! It’d be… well it’d be like an adventure.”

He was silent, looking away from you, his eyes scanning the quiet trailer park. Your shoulders dropped a little when you realized he didn’t share the same excitement as you. He had an entire summer to do whatever he wanted, why would he want to spend it with you driving to somewhere he’s never been.

He doesn’t even like the ocean, you idiot.

“Forget it. It’s stupid.” He jumped a little as you suddenly stood up, rivets of water rushing down the expanse of your body. You’ve stepped one foot out of the pool before he’s grabbing your wrist softly.

“Hey, where are you going?” He asked gently, his eyes wide like he’d just gotten into trouble.

“Inside to change. I think I got too much sun.” You shook your arm until his hand slipped from your wrist, falling back into the water with a splash. You snatched your towel from the rickety lawn chair and escaped into his trailer, ignoring him calling your name. You grabbed your bookbag from the couch and all but ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind you with shaking hands.

You felt so fucking stupid. You already spent eighty percent of your time with him, practically attached at the hip as his freshman friend Dustin had pointed out, how could you think he’d want to spend even more time with you. Especially somewhere far from home. For fucks sake, he hadn’t even looked at you as you went on and on about it. He was too nice to tell you it was a stupid idea. The way he stared off, probably thinking of how to let you down gently, was all the answer you needed.

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t that good of an idea. You weren’t known for your extraordinary planning skills and both of your vehicles were pieces of shit. In fact the likelihood of making it across the Indiana border just to break down in some podunk town was terribly high. The thought of spending the rest of your money getting the car fixed just to turn around and go right back home, broke and without ever seeing the damn beach, made you a little nauseous. Because that would be your luck.

A knock at the bathroom door made you jump. "Hey, you okay in there?" Eddie, voice peppered with concern. You tossed your bathing suit in the sink and turned the shower on.

"I gotta wash my hair, be out in a minute." You yelled back at the door before stepping into the shower stall, the hot water easing the tension from your muscles.

You didn't want him to think you were upset so you hurried through your shower, using his old spice to wash your body and his shampoo and conditioner that smelled of citrus in your hair. It was a distinct smell, one that was all him, and it made your stomach whirl once again. Your crush on him was starting to become a nuisance.

Once you were clean and dried off, dressed in his Iron Maiden shirt you stole from his drawer a couple weeks ago and a pair of black jean shorts that were frayed at the ends, you slowly cracked the door open, peering out towards the living room slash kitchen in search for a puff of raven curls.

He wasn’t there, so instead you followed the sound of Ozzy Osborne down the hall and into Eddie’s messy bedroom.

He was in his bed, back propped up against the headboard and rolling a joint with idle fingers. He was still shirtless but with a pair of gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, the band of his now white boxers resting against his dark happy trail. A wildfire blazed in your stomach at the sight and you couldn’t help but clamp your thighs together.

Does he not realize how unbearably hot he is?

He didn’t, actually, which was why seeing him like this all laid out with his chest bare and that smattering of hair that led down his abdomen and under his pants made your mouth so dry your tongue felt like it weighed 110 pounds and your hands so clammy you had to wipe them against your shorts. You cleared your throat in an attempt to subdue your racing thoughts and took a seat on the edge of his bed, body turned towards him watching him roll with ease.

He looked up with a smile when he felt your weight dip into the mattress. “Are you feeling any bette-'' He paused, glaring at the long haired zombie on your shirt. His shirt. “Is that my fucking shirt?”

You glanced down and back up, imitating the causal shrug he always gave you.

“Maybe.” You deadpanned. Eddie spluttered.

“Maybe? Who else do you know listens to Iron fucking Maiden?”

“I know people.”

“You know people?”

“A couple.”

Eddie’s eyes suddenly narrowed, a quiet disapproval in those deep brown eyes of his.

“Billy Hargrove?” He asked with a grating timbre in his voice you’d never heard before. He’d tossed the joint down into the ashtray and got off the bed, standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“B- What?” You’re so exasperated you can’t even form a sentence. “Billy Hargrove? What?”

“It’s him right? I know you used to hangout with him. He’s totally not an Iron Maiden fan, by the way. He definitely listens to Foreigner and cries in his piece of shit Camaro.”

“Hey! Don’t talk bad about Foreigner, I love them.” You stood up from the bed with your hands on your hips. “He’s a Guns N’ Roses guy anyways; completely idolizes Axel Rose.”

“Oh. Okay. So Billy Hargrove likes Guns N’ Roses and groupies for Axel Rose. Amazing.”

“I don’t hang out with Billy Hargrove, Eddie. Not like that, anyways.”

His nostrils flared and he nodded. “But you do hang out.”

“Maybe once or twice, I guess?” Your voice forms a question. You didn’t consider having a couple of the same friends and being at parties the other is at as ‘hanging out’. “What- What is this, Eddie? Why are you freaking out over Billy?”

“I’m not.” He said, blinking a couple times like he was trying to snap out of something. He leaned over your shoulder and grabbed the joint out the ashtray, lit it, and walked over to his cluttered table to search through a milk crate full of records. “Just figured the people you were talking about was him, s’all.”

“Eddie,” You said, coming up beside him to grab his wrist. He froze, his hands stopping their furious flipping of records, but his gaze stayed low. “I was fucking around, Eddie.”

“Fucking around?’

“Yes, Eddie. I was just joking.”

He turned to you at your words, staring dead into your eyes. The intensity of his stare made your heart stutter. “Were you trying to make me jealous?”

“Jealous? Wh- Eddie what the fuck are you talking about.”

There was a pregnant pause. Just you and Eddie staring into each other's eyes. Why would you want to make him jealous? You didn’t even know that was an option. You and Eddie were friends. Best friends. Friends don’t get jealous of their friends hanging out with other people. And Billy Hargrove? You had no idea where he pulled that one from. Not once had you ever even mentioned his name around Eddie. There was nothing worth mentioning. You thought Billy was stuck up and an absolute douchebag. Was he nice to look at? Sure. But you were nearly positive his heart was black with hatred and you believed being pretty meant nothing if your personality was shit.

“Uh, Eddie? Are you jealous?” He couldn’t look you in the eyes, instead he was flickering his gaze to anywhere but your face. “Eddie?”

“Would you hate me if I said yes?” He trailed his question off, biting at the skin on his lips as he waited for a response.

“I could never hate you, Eddie. You’re my best friend.”

He rolled his eyes. He rolled his fucking eyes. “Your best friend, right.” He said through a cloud of smoke. You snatched the joint sitting pretty between his fingers and dropped it in his other ashtray, the glass one shaped like a skull.

“Why are you saying it like that? You are my best friend.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be.” He said defiantly and your throat felt like it was going to close and your eyes burned from the prickle of your unshed tears welling in your eyes. He didn't want to be your best friend. Those words made you want to crawl into your body, to somehow vanish into thin air. Not too long ago you two were laughing together in the pool, discussing Steve Harrington's newest girl drama which was all supplied to you by Dustin Henderson. The night before you two made shitty Jiffy Pop while blazed out of your minds and sang karaoke so loud his neighbors came banging on the door, furious.

But now he didn’t want to be friends.

“Is this because I asked you to go on a roadtrip with me?” Your voice wavered and your chin started to tremble. “I know it was a bad idea.”

He strangely looked befuddled. “W-what? No. No, it’s not tha-”

“Well then what did I do?” You whined, tossing your hands about, unsure of what to do or what to say. What to think.

“You didn’t do-” He cut himself off, frustrated with his inability to explain himself. He looked at you, saw the tremble in your chin and shook his head. “You know what, fuck it.”

As soon as the words left his mouth he was surging forward, grasping your face in his hands, and pulling you towards him. His lips met yours with so much force you gasped, hands clutching his hips for purchase. You couldn’t form a single thought as you stood there, eyes squeezed shut, your chest so tight you couldn’t breathe. But then his hand smoothed over your cheek and grasped the back of your neck, his fingernails scraping over the sensitive skin there, and you finally kissed him back. Eddie moaned. The sound so loud it vibrated through your mouth and straight to the core of your being.

You kissed him with every ounce of power you had. Kissed him like you had daydreamed about so many times before as you watched him roll, or play guitar, or sing along to the radio as he drummed against the steering wheel. You kissed him for everytime he smiled and you felt your heart skip a beat. For every time he hugged you just because you looked like you needed one. For every smile he’d ever graced you with. You kissed him like you’d never kissed anyone before in your life, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from a different point of view, but it felt perfect.

Eddie pulled away first, gasping for air in the crook of your neck, his body practically folded into you. “Fuck,” he drew out the word long enough to make you giggle, drunk off his lips.

“Eddie.” You soothed, combing your fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you wanna be my friend?”

He raised to his full height at your question. “Best friends can’t kiss like that.” He’s so out of breath, his words merely a whisper as he continued. “And every goddamn time I look at you all I wanna do is kiss your pretty fucking mouth.”

He left you speechless, looking up into his big brown eyes that you loved so much. He lets you take a second, think on it, all the while stroking his thumb across your cheek.

“How long?” Is all you can ask.

“Shit, since fucking middle school, baby.” He blushed as he said it, the pretty pink darkening to a cherry red as he watched your eyes widen in surprise.

“Middle school?” You whispered.

“I always have. But in middle school you showed up to the snowball in that cute purple dress with your hair all big and your makeup maybe a little too grown for a 12 year old and all I could think about was walking over and asking you to dance. Shit, I wanted to kiss your cheek so fucking bad.” You laughed at the way he scrunched his nose at the last part. You remembered middle school Eddie, his buzzed head and those horrible army green bell bottoms that he’d ripped up to look cool. You liked that Eddie as much as you liked this one, even back then.

“Why didn’t you?” You asked as you pushed up against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist. In this position he had to look down his nose at you, his dark lashes fluttering across his cheeks.

“You were you and I was the freak.”

“I never thought that about you, Eddie.”

He sighed, kissing your forehead. “I didn’t know that then, baby.”

“Should have asked.” You teased, planting a kiss on his chest when he tried to act offended.

You two stood like that for a while, just wrapped up in each other, testing the waters of this new dynamic. One where you both knew where you stood with each other.

“I’m sorry I upset you earlier, you uh- you kinda surprised me.” He spoke into the crown of your head.

“It was a stupid idea, anyway.”

“No it’s not. I wanna go. I just don’t want to spend all your money doing it. Give me a couple months to save up and we can go.”

“I don’t care about the money, Eds.” You said as you took your head off his chest and gazed up at him.

“I know. Just give me a couple months, okay.”

“Okay, Eddie.”

Silence fell over the two of you. Eddie started swaying to the music at some point, humming along to a Black Sabbath song that was definitely not slow dance material. You kissed the tattoo on his chest as you swayed, looking up at him with your best version of puppy dog eyes.

“Hey, Eddie?” You asked softly. He hummed against you, kissing your forehead as he waited for you to finish your question. “Can you kiss me again?”

“Did you use my shampoo?”

Eddie’s voice raised up from the crease of your neck, a hint of amusement in his words. He had you laid out on his bed, slowly working kisses across your body. What had started as a soft little makeout session bloomed into something more when you had drug your nails up his spine the moment he found that sweet spot just behind your ear.

“Mhm.” You were too distracted to answer, focusing on the feel of his tongue laving against your neck and the way his hips shuddered against your clothed pussy every time you dug your nails into his skin.

“I like when you smell like me.” He mused. “Makes me feel like you’re mine.”

“M’yours, Eddie.” You whispered, guiding his face up to look at him. His lips were puffy and tinted red from sucking hickeys against your throat and his eyes were wide, searching your face for honesty.

“Promise?” He said after a quiet couple seconds and you nodded, leaning your head up to kiss the tip of his nose and the corner of his mouth.

“Promise.”

Eddie’s smile lit up his entire face, all dimpled and pink cheeked. It made your heart swell.

“Can I taste you?”

He asked in such a polite way, it caught you off guard. You couldn’t remember ever having a guy ask to eat you out. It was always something you hinted at and they brushed aside. One guy had even told you that eating a girl out made him soft and in the same breath forced your head down on his dick. But here was Eddie, looking at you so expectantly and yet so patiently.

“Yeah.”

Eddie didn’t waste a second getting to his knees on the mattress, fingers fumbling with the button of your shorts as he mumbled to himself. “Oh shit, okay. Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long, you don’t even understand. Pretty baby. So fucking pretty.”

You helped him shimmy the black fabric from your legs, Eddie tossing them over his shoulder with such force they knocked his acoustic guitar, that sat across from the bed, off its stand. He paid no attention to the instruments sharp bellow as it hit the carpet, instead he was transfixed on your purple lace panties.

“Christ.” He breathed, his index and middle finger tracing up the wet spot that had been steadily growing from the moment he kissed you. “You’re so wet.”

“Because of you.” You keened, Eddie suddenly adding more force in his stroking right against your clit. He flashed his eyes up to yours.

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

“Shit, I never thought I’d hear you say that outside of my dreams.” He seems to lose himself in his heavy caressing while you grip his sheets so hard your knuckles turn white.

“Eddie, please.” You couldn’t stop the whine that escaped your lips, dipping your fingers under the band of your panties and impatiently trying to take them off.

Eddie chuckled to himself as he watched you struggle. “Okay, okay. I’ve got you baby. Calm down.” He gave your panties the same treatment, peeling them down your thighs and tossing them over his shoulder. He bit his lip as he lowered his stomach to the bed, face to face with your weeping core. “So eager to be on my tongue, huh. Who woulda thought you’d be sobbing at the thought of me, The Freak, licking your sweet little pussy.”

“Eddie,” You were so touch starved, so desperate to feel his mouth on you, that you thought you might actually cry if he didn’t do something. “Shut the fuck up, please. Please. Just… Oh, Eddie, please.”

“Mm, okay.”

The second his warm tongue hit you, you cried out. Hands fumbling for purchase and finding it in his dark brown hair. You gripped the strands at the roots hard enough to hurt but Eddie only moaned and tightened his grip on your thighs, pulling them open even further to sink his tongue as far into your pussy as he could. His nose brushed against your swollen clit with each delve of his tongue, the muscle exploring every inch of your sensitive pussy. You trained your eyes on his nicotine stained ceiling, trying so hard to push back the fire rising in your stomach. You’d never felt anything like it before.

“That feels so fucking good, Eddie.” You loosened your grip on him to pet at his hair, unsure if it was to praise him or soothe yourself. Peeling your eyes from the ceiling you cast your hazy stare down only to find his big brown eyes watching you from between your thighs, mouth latched around your sensitive clit as he alternated from gentle sucks to fast flicks of his tongue. Your thighs burned as you rocked your hips against his face, fucking into his mouth for more friction, hands shaking against his cheeks. He looked so unbelievably pretty staring up at you with so much fondness and lust in his eyes, his mouth and tongue completely ravishing you like no man ever had before.. So you tell him…

“You’re so pretty like this, Eddie. You- oh fuuck- you’re always so pretty b-but-” You let out a wanton cry as Eddie slipped two fingers into your achy cunt. He finds that spot inside you that whitens your eyesight almost immediately, like he knew exactly where it was. Between his fingers and his devilish tongue you were seeing stars, tears slipping freely at how extreme the sensation was. “Oh god, Eddie. Eddie, I’m- I’m gonna-” You couldn’t even fucking speak anymore.

Eddie acknowledged you with a shuddering groan, quickening his movements to drive you over the precipice. His eyes never once leave your face.

You came with a small scream, hips arched off the bed, your fingernails leaving crescent moons into the skin of his wrist. The feeling was all consuming, overwhelming in all the best ways. You let out a sob as he eased you through it, rubbing your thighs comfortingly as they shook with fervor around his head. You could hear yourself speaking but it was muffled by the roaring in your ears; it sounded like you were speaking in tongues. Eddie heard every word.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. Don’t stop, baby. Never fucking stop. So good, s-so fucking good. You’re so fucking good, Eddie. Oh my god, I love you.”

Eddie kissed your thighs as your orgasm faded, your burning lungs gasping for air. When you could finally breathe again, he left one last lingering kiss before crawling up your body. You held his face with shaking hands when he reached you, the biggest shit eating grin on his cum soaked face.

“You love me, huh?” He pondered with a fleeting kiss to your lips. “Or do you just love the way I eat your pussy?”

“Both you fucking deviant. Both.” Each inhale rattled in your chest and every exhale burned the lining of your throat. Eddie chuckled as he kissed you again, pressing his hard cock against your still sensitive core.

“Who knew you were a fucking screamer, baby.”

“I could tell you that was all you but then you’d fucking gloat about it for the rest of eternity.”

“Still might.” He hummed, ghosting kisses over your eyes and nose and lips. “You look so fucking hot when you cum. Never seen anything like it. Coulda cum right then and there but I wanna be inside you.”

You reached a hand between your bodies, running a heavy finger over the outline of his cock in his sweats. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, still a little breathless.

Eddie nodded excitedly before bounding up from the bed and over to his dresser. He rifled through it aggressively. Cursing here and there as he tossed socks and a random cassette tape onto the floor in his frenzied search. When he finally finds what he was looking for he exclaimed to himself, “Fucking finally.”.

He leaves the mess he made, struggling to pull his sweats and boxers off as he makes his way back over to you, sprawled out and butt naked in his bed. Once he finally gets there, after narrowly avoiding tripping over his own boots on the floor, he crawls on top of you with the aluminum wrapper between his teeth. You watched with bated breath as he ripped it open, rolling it down the dark pink head of his cock. Once he’s done he positioned himself in the apex of your thighs, fisting his cock and smoothing the latex covered head through your slick covered folds.

“I, uh, I’m probably not gonna last that long.” He said, his eyes downcast, watching the way your hips rutted into him with every swipe of his cock.

“It’s okay, Eds. Just fuck me.” You grabbed his chin, forcing his face up. When your eyes met you smiled at him sweetly and added, “Please.”

Eddie wasted no time pressing into you, his thick cock stretching you wide as he bottomed out inside you. His cheeks were flamed pink, a bead of sweat bleeding from his hairline down the curve of his nose. He pulled out gently and plunged back in, the tip of his tongue poking through his teeth as he concentrated on his slow deliberate thrusts. You dug your heels into the backs of his thighs, hoping he'd get the hint to go faster. Harder. The slow drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you was agonizing. But he only ignored your pressing and not so subtle whines, folding himself over top of you with one arm wrapped around your back and a callused hand holding your cheek. He was being so gentle. It wasn’t something you were used to. Every other guy you’d been with just used you to get off as fast as they could. But Eddie was taking his time, having found a pace that kept you needing more. You found yourself giggling at a particularly languid thrust and Eddie’s round eyes, with his pupils completely blown black, shot up to yours.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, stilling himself inside of you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…” You giggled again and his eyes narrowed. “I just thought, who would have imagined you to be such a gentle lover. You know, with your bad boy–heavy metal image and all.”

“Don’t forget local drug dealer and devil worshiper.” His smile cracked wide as you giggled again. That giggle, however, turned into a sharp cry with a snap of his hips. “I can be gentle. When I want to be.”

You could only nod at this, your breath lodged in your throat at another hard snap of his hips. Your comment had urged him to go faster. To show you that, yes, he could be gentle. But he could also fuck you senseless.

“Imagine what they’d think of you, baby.” He whispered into your ear, forehead pressed hard to the side of your head, his hips building into a maddening pace. He had thrown your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper, to hit that spot inside your core that brought tears to your eyes. “You were always such a good girl. Hawkins number one girl. Do you even remember what they said when they found out we were friends?”

You shook your head, unable to speak with how hard and deliberate his thrusts were.

“They said I was corrupting you.” He released a breathy, dark laugh. His hand slotting through the strands of your hair to grip the roots. “But they didn’t know that you sought me out, hm. Followed me to the woods just so we could be alone. Made me laugh. Made me feel special.”

You remembered that day. Remembered watching him walk through the tree line all alone, that black metal lunch pail gripped tightly in his hand. You knew what he was doing, skipping class to go smoke up. You’d seen him do it before. But that day you followed after him, nervously gripping the ruched fabric of your cheer skirt as you went. You couldn’t help yourself, You wanted to know him so badly.

“Everyday after that, you found me.” His thrusts were starting to get sloppy and you could tell in the way he held you, in the way his words doubled as moans, that he was getting close. “I tried so hard to keep you from getting too close. People are shunned for being close to me. But you wouldn’t fucking quit. Always so fucking stubborn. It’s like you couldn’t stay away from me.”

“I couldn’t.” You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hair tickled your cheeks, his breath fanning over your lips as he held himself over you now. His brows furrowed in concentration as his cock throbbed inside of you. You clenched at the sight of him, looking so pretty and so fucked, and all yours. Because he was. He was it for you.

“Ah, shit.” He whimpered. He wouldn’t last much longer, but Eddie being who Eddie was, you knew he was gonna talk the whole way through it. “You fucking- You broke down every fucking wall I’d ever built. Smashed right fucking through them and straight into my fucking heart. I-I wanted to be good for you. Good enough that you’d want me like I wanted you. You corrupted me.”

“E-Eddie, I think I’m gonna c-cum.” That burning heat had returned but it was different this time. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the bottom of your toes. It thrummed every nerve like the string of a guitar, vibrating you to the bone.

“Good.” He said harshly, the word sounding almost mean falling from his red swollen lips, but the fingers stroking your face were still gentle. “I want you to scream for me again. I want everyone in this shitty trailer park, in this shitty fucking town, to know that I’m the one making you feel like this. Crying for my cock, desperate for me.”

You couldn’t handle it, couldn’t see through the tears falling, couldn’t feel anything but him and the white hot pleasure he was gifting to you. You were right there, so fucking close.

“I want them to know that you are mine.” Each word was punctuated with a hard, albeit sloppy, thrust and you came.

You came with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. You felt yourself clench down on him, hard, and his hips shuddered violently against you, succumbing to his own orgasm from your vise lock grip on his cock. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as he rocked his hips and moaned through it, your name and curses sounding like the sweetest song you’d ever heard.

“Jesus Christ.” He groaned before his body collapsed on top of yours. You could feel his thighs trembling against your own, mirroring the intensity of the feeling you both shared as you came.

The both of you laid there, shrouded in the warmth of each other's embrace, until finally he rolled away. Wincing as he pulled out and discarded the condom. You could only lay there and watch him rise from the bed on shaky legs to grab the half smoked joint from earlier. He placed it between his lips and lit it, standing there in all his naked glory, puffing on it till he could get a nice long hit. The slight skunky smell filled the room and you closed your eyes, relishing in it. But then, you were hit in the chest by something light and lacey.

“For your modesty.” Eddie smirked as you held your purple panties up in the light.

“Thanks.” You croaked, your voice hoarse and your throat sore.

Eddie crawled over you, flopping his sweaty body down next to yours. He handed you the joint, which you took gratefully, taking your own long drag and passing it back. The both of you laid in a comfortable silence, legs draped over each other and his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your bare thigh. But then something occurred to you and you turned your head to look at him.

“I didn’t corrupt you.” You said to him and he rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh.

“Yes, you did.”

“No I did not, asshole.” You guffawed, slapping your hand playfully on his bare chest.

“I wear my seatbelt and listen to fucking Journey because of you. That’s corruption.” He teased with a cute little smirk, grabbing your thigh and squeezing the soft flesh there.

“That’s just safety and taste, baby. If you want me to corrupt you there are… different things I have in mind.” You watched his eyes widen and he laughed.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He said as he leaned in, his lips tasted of you and the weed he had smoked and you smiled behind the kiss, chest full and body sore.

“Hey,” He started as he rested his head on your shoulder, gazing up at you like a little puppy. “You wanna go watch a movie? I can make some Jiffy Pop and we can cuddle on the couch?”

“Who’s picking the movie?” You asked, fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

“I had Steve score me a copy of Poltergeist 2. Picked it up from Family Video while you were at the store earlier.”

You sat up a little, an incredulous look etched into your features while he gave you those damn puppy eyes.

“Eddie, you literally told me two weeks ago that you'd rather be decapitated than watch that movie."

Eddie only shrugged, that casual slouch of his shoulder that you had become so accustomed to, and offered you a pretty smile.

“I would. But you wanted to see it. I'll suck it up, but only for you."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #stranger things fan fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

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matchingbatbites · 1 year

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2112 Days | Ao3 link

tw: memory loss

When Steve wakes up in the morning, he doesn't know where he is. The last thing he remembers from the night before is the party all piled up in his living room, everyone too anxious to sleep, and now he's in a bedroom that he has absolutely no memory of.

He looks around the unfamiliar room, tries to get a sense of what the fuck is going on, and on the nightstand next to him, he finds a tape recorder sitting on top of a photo album. On the tape recorder is a sticky note, with the words 'play me' written across the yellow paper in scratchy handwriting.

Steve is so confused and frustrated, he doesn't have time for this, they have a plan to carry out. But something deep inside him keeps him in place. Tells him to play it. He picks up the device and sees another note on the album, this one reading 'open me', and he presses play on the tape recorder before grabbing the book.

There's a little bit of sound fuzz before a voice says "Good morning, Stevie!" and Steve blinks, because that's Eddie's voice.

"Today is Saturday, August 29th, 1992, and it's been 5 years, 9 months, and 12 days since we killed Vecna and closed the gates permanently."

Steve's hand jerks out and stops the tape, his breathing picks up because what the fuck? That can't be right, they're supposed to fight Vecna today. That's why they all stayed at Steve's house. One more sleepover, one more chance to be there for each other before they have to split up, before they have to finish the job.

He takes a moment to just breathe, lets the words sink in as he opens the photo album. It takes him a second to realize it, but the first picture is of himself, in a hospital bed, bandages wrapped around his head and a tube down his throat. He looks bad, and he doesn't remember a single second of it.

There's more of that scratchy writing just below it. ‘November 20, 1986. Taken by one of Owen’s guys.’ The next page has a doctor's report, and Steve sees the words 'brain injury' and 'short term memory loss' before he continues.

He flips through the album, sees more pictures of himself that he doesn't remember being taken. Each one has a date next to it, and some have a little description to give him context. There are photos of him with the party, with Robin and Eddie and Nancy, and there are news articles scattered amongst them, important things he should remember, that make his head hurt when he tries too hard to do so.

There are pictures of Nancy and Robin's graduation from college, Wayne's wedding to some woman named Cynthia, the grand opening of Jonathan and Argyle's pizza shop.

A photo of him and Eddie, wearing tacky sweaters and kissing under mistletoe, with the description '1987, Our first Christmas together', and oh, that's something that sends tingles up his spine. He'd had more than a crush on Eddie before their second run in with Vecna, but he hadn't had the courage to do anything about it before they ran head first into danger, again.

Are he and Eddie together now? Like, together together?

The answer seems to be yes, because the next few pages are just more photos of him and Eddie, most taken by Eddie himself, his arm stretching out to capture the moment. Pictures of their first apartment, multiple anniversaries, the day they got their cat (Lucy is written next to this one in Steve’s handwriting, along with a little heart).

And then a photo that makes Steve's heart stop. It's them again, standing on a beach, hand in hand as they face each other. They're both barefoot, wearing slacks and nice shirts, Eddie's a deep, wine red, and Steve's a soft baby blue, and the love on their faces is blinding.

The description says 'June 15, 1991, Our wedding. Not legal, but very, very real.'

And Steve looks at his hand, for the first time sees the gold ring on his finger, like it's perfectly happy at home there, and he thinks he might start crying.

On the bottom of the page is his own handwriting, a small addition that just says 'play the tape.' Steve glances over, presses play again with a shaky hand, and Eddie's voice starts up once more.

"You got pretty banged up during the fight, and your many knocks to the head finally caught up with you. You have some extensive brain trauma, and your short term memory is basically non-existent.

"It's okay, though. You're not alone, you've got tons of people that care about you, baby. The Upside Down stuff is all over, there haven't been any blips on the radar or anything. The kids are all okay - scattered to the wind, but okay.

"Robin's in town today, we're meeting her for lunch at noon, but you've got plenty of time before then. Finish looking through the album, and as soon as you're ready, come find me in the house. Just follow the sound of music, baby. I love you."

The tape ends, and Steve takes a minute to process. He flips through the rest of the album, pictures dated all the way up to a month ago, when he and Eddie had apparently visited Nancy in New York.

It hits him that this is real, this is his reality. He looks at the tape recorder, thinks that this must be an everyday thing for Eddie, and he's suddenly overcome with emotion for the other man.

He climbs out of bed and grabs the tape recorder before he heads out of the room, hears music coming from somewhere, and follows it to a kitchen.

And there's Eddie, with his hair pulled up into a messy bun, wearing sweatpants and humming along to the tape that's playing on a nearby stereo. There are more tattoos inked into his skin, more piercings in his ears, and Steve can see that yeah, he has aged a little.

"Eddie?" he says softly, and the older man turns to look at him with a bright smile.

"Morning, Stevie. How are you feeling today?"

Overwhelmed, Steve thinks, but he swallows hard and holds up the tape recorder. "Do you record these for me every day?"

Eddie's smile softens at the question and he motions Steve closer. "You ask me that too often, like you just can't believe I'd do something like that for you."

Steve goes over to him, sets the device on the counter as one of Eddie's hands settles on Steve's waist, the other moving up to cup his cheek. "I can't believe it, it's so-" Kind? Selfless?

Steve doesn't have the proper word to describe it, and it only adds to that overwhelmed feeling. Eddie's thumb strokes over his cheekbone and he hums softly.

"It's worth it for you, sweetheart. After all the shit we’ve been though, that you’ve been through, you deserve a normal life, and I swore do everything in my fucking power to make sure that happens."

And Steve is definitely crying now. The fact that Eddie has been doing this for almost six years, that he's stayed by Steve through it and hasn't given up on him? The effort he’s put into helping Steve feel somewhat normal? It's too much for Steve to comprehend, and Eddie pulls him into a tight hug, mutters softly softly into his ear as he starts to sob.

"I know, baby. It's okay."

They stay like that for a while, until Steve's tears slow, then stop, and he's able to breathe normally again. "Sorry," he mutters and scrubs a hand over his face, and Eddie shakes his head.

"Don't apologize, Steve. This happens sometimes, and it's perfectly okay. It's a lot to process all at once, and we just take it a day at a time, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay," Steve says, and takes another deep breath. He thinks back to the album, to the photos of him and Eddie, and he knows exactly what he wants in this moment. "Will you kiss me, please?"

And Eddie smiles, says "Of course, honey."

It feels right when Eddie kisses him, and it's weird, because he doesn't remember ever kissing Eddie before now, but it's like his body does, like it knows all of the steps to this dance that his brain can't remember.

They stay in the kitchen for a while just kissing and talking, Eddie answering all of Steve's questions with such patience, until it's time to go meet Robin.

Later that night, just as Steve is dozing off, he feels Eddie pull away before getting out of the bed.

"Where 're you goin'?" he mutters, and Eddie cards a hand through his hair.

"Gotta go record your tape for tomorrow. Just go back to sleep, baby."

Steve hums his disapproval and hears Eddie chuckle, before a kiss is pressed to his forehead. "I'll see you in the morning, gorgeous."

When Steve wakes up in the morning, he doesn't know where he is.

#i love 50 first dates and brain-injury-haver steve so i combined them together #they live in a tiny queer beach side town #and everyone knows steve and his condition #and they're all super supportive and helpful #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #joey writes #2112 days

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bvtbxtch · 10 months

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Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Part 2: Graduation)

Series Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?

Chapter Summary: Ditching Eddie and Chrissy might have been the best decision you ever made. You were now graduated, had a great group of friends and a new found confidence. But even though it was a great choice, you still felt a piece of your heart missing. With a few mysterious phone calls and a box full of things, maybe you were right in feeling a little cautious about your choice to leave the metalhead alone.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N

Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.

Word Count: 11.5k (SORRY)

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON THIS LITTLE STORY. Thank you for being patient with me as well. I was not anticipating in it taking a month to get this part out but I have had some health issues that really had to take precedent first before I could relax and start writing. Thank you so much to everyone who reached out to see if I was okay <3 I did just want to mention that after this part, I will NOT be adding a taglist. You are all so incredibly supportive but I have been (still) getting DMs and replies about being on the taglist and I am feeling a little overwhelmed. I will be making a masterlist and when I do make that, I will add everyone from the AH taglist <3 thank you for understanding!!

Prologue

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

June 1986

You had awaited this day for what seemed forever. You had planned what life after high school was going to look like for you since you were in middle school. Chrissy had infiltrated your plans as soon as you met; you often imagined the two of you moving to Indianapolis, or even to New York. You would get a shitty little apartment together and you would find jobs working in bookstores or coffee shops and have next to no money, but you would be together, and you would be on your own. Eddie also quickly ended up being part of your after school plans. He would move with you, or maybe get an apartment with Gareth and Jeff and then the five of you would go on adventures all over whatever city you overran. That was one of the things you loved the most about Eddie, his ability to find adventure wherever he went and whatever he was doing. Maybe there would be some opportunity for you and Eddie to finally get together-

The two people you never saw your life without were now but distant furniture in your mind. The past month brought you a lot of clarity. You actually hadn’t talked to either Eddie or Chrissy since the day after prom. Chrissy had come up to you the next day, pale face and dark circles around her eyes, but she still was glowing somehow. She laid her head next to your locker and greeted you with a lovestruck sigh.

“Wasn’t prom just an absolute dream?” You slammed your locker and rolled your eyes at her, which made her jump. “What’s up with you?” she pouted. “I want to tell you all about my magical night-”

“Yeah Chris. I know all about your magical night. Okay?” You snapped. She was taken aback. “Go talk about how magical your night was with someone else, got it?” You turned on your heel and walked away from the blonde. You were too angry to be sad. Too empowered to cower under her influence. You deserved better and you knew it.

“Woah, woah! What is going on? Did I do something?” she jogged after you. You let out a dry laugh and turned to face her.

“‘He only kissed you back because he felt bad for you” You mocked. Not breaking contact while the light drained from her eyes. Suddenly, her vision clouded with tears. In her drunken haze, she had forgotten the confrontation in the hallway. She knew she shouldn’t have said what she did. Deep down, she knew it was a lie, but she was too insecure to confront Eddie about his feelings for you. Driving you away was easier than her feeling like she was second best.

“Y/N I-”

“You know what Chrissy? I really thought that we were going to be friends forever. I really thought that you would have my back through thick and thin. But you showed me your true colors. You don’t care about me. If you did, you wouldn’t do what you did.”

“Did what I did? You kissed my boyfriend!” She yelped.

“Who you treat like shit, Chrissy! You kept him a secret so you could let Carver think that he had a chance of getting in your pants last night. You immediately took Eddie’s side when he told you what happened, and not trusting your best friend of over a decade.” She shook her head at you in disbelief

“A real friend would have been happy for me to find someone like Eddie - who makes me happy, and pulls away when he tries to kiss you.” She poked

“A real friend wouldn’t ever pursue a boy who I’m obviously in love with” It slipped out. You didn’t mean to tell her. You both stood staring at each other through wide, glassy eyes. You took a few breaths and your gaze hardened.

“I should have said this to you the night you kicked me out of your house. I should have said this to you last night when you let me down. You are a shitty friend, Chrissy Cunningham, and you’re a shitty person. Don’t talk to me ever again.” Before she had any time to respond, you turned and strutted to your next class. Your heart hurt, but it felt so good to be confident enough in yourself, to be able to tell her how you really feel. She was done growing and flourishing, you had just started.

Eddie was too cowardly to come talk to you about what happened. He was so painfully in love with you, he couldn’t stand to see you get hurt again. So he admired you from afar, secretly cheering you on, as Chissy now interlocked her arm with his down the hallways. He was tired of making wrong decisions so he let the decisions be made for him. He couldn’t help feel a pang of desperation as graduation grew closer and closer, and the one person he wanted to be around drifted further and further out of his reach.

You slipped on the scratchy green polyester gown, refusing to fasten your cap to your freshly curled hair until you got to the school. Your wedges felt foreign in comparison to your regular Reeboks and you were compulsively checking your compact mirror to ensure your lipstick was perfect. You were so excited to get the formal convocation over with to go party at Gareth’s house. You strolled into the gym to be greeted by a group of drama friends, you all shared niceties and took a few pictures with the polaroid you toted with you. You had formed a small circle of friends in the last month of classes. Although they weren’t Gareth’s cup of tea, he was happy to invite them to the afterparty if it meant that you had more incentive to be there with him. Since cutting off Eddie and Chrissy, you spend way more time in the theatre during lunches and with Gareth afterschool and before Hellfire. Old you would have hoped that Eddie saw and was jealous. New you didn’t give half a shit.

You heard a familiar voice call your name and as you craned your neck to make eye contact, you broke from the crowd to run into Gareth’s embrace.

“Wow, Emerson! Thought I would never see you in a cap and gown!” You teased, but beamed up at him.

“Shut up… You look great” he smiled back at you. You quickly took your camera from around your neck and held it up to get both of your faces in frame.

“One for the books” you quipped. He rubbed your back affectionately as the microphone on the stage squealed. You found your seat and begrudgingly put your cap on. As you scanned the chairs for any more friends, your eyes fell to the door, where Eddie and Chrissy came walking in hand-in-hand. As angry as you were, you were happy to see Eddie finally succeeding in graduating. It brought warmth to your cheeks and a small smile to your lips. What you didn’t expect is for him to make eye contact with you. You froze. His gaze was soft, almost yearning. He raised a hand to you and offered a small grin. You waved back, too stunned to smile. He looked good. He looked happy. It filled you with melancholy for a moment before you broke eye contact and put your thoughts back together. You were here to succeed for you. You had friends that loved and appreciated you for you. You were going to go run amuck in a new city and find other people who loved you. And it all started here and now. You were going to grab that diploma, get blasted, and get the hell out of Hawkins.

Your name was called and you walked across the stage. A louder-than-you-were-expecting applause erupted, along with whoops and hollers from Jeff and Gareth, and the hellfire freshmen that were in the audience. You bowed as your tassel was flipped and caught gorgeous brown eyes staring up at you again, clapping wildly and grinning. He was genuinely proud of you, you could tell. He was sorry, you could tell. When it was his turn to walk the stage, you were one of the few that clapped for him. But you stood up and gave him a loud cheer. You were proud of him, he could tell. As he hopped down from the stage, he ran up to Chrissy’s spot- where she held her diploma in her manicured hands - and picked her up. He planted a kiss on her lips while he ran out of the gym. As much as you have grown, you wished it was you he was kissing, carrying out. You let the thought leave as their silhouettes vanished. It was time to party and forget about feelings.

Gareth’s house was bustling. Music was blasting throughout the house and it was rattling in your ribcage. Your head was swimming with the ‘punch’ you had already consumed while playing flip cup and beer pong. You laughed with your friends, so truly glad to be able to forget about the impending doom of real life and have fun with your favorite people. You slinked your way through the crowd over to Gareth, who was tending the punch bowl. He smiled at you and handed you another solo cup.

“Having fun?” he asked. You wrapped your arm around his waist and rested your head on his chest. He threw his arm around your shoulders, putting a little too much weight on you. He was drunk as well. You giggled

“This is the best party. Thanks for hosting, Garebear” you slur.

“Woah woah, Garebear? Absolutely not.” he scolds, pulling away from you. You let out a full chuckle as you clink your cup with his and down your drink.

Your night progressed to telling embarrassing stories in the living room over a game of Jenga. Your head was spinning and as much as you liked this feeling of weightlessness, you were afraid you were going to drift away. You pushed off of the couch and weaved your way through the crowds to the back door. You slid open the screen and you were gratefully met with a cool summer breeze. It was still warm, but the wind gave you goosebumps. You sighed with content and closed your eyes as you leaned onto the deck’s banister.

“Having fun?”

Your eyes shot open and you looked over your right shoulder. In the shadows of the small outdoor light, you saw a tall, slender figure, and the outline of long, frizzy hair. Your smile faltered. He stepped into the light and took a drag from his cigarette

“Yeah, um… Sorry for disturbing you” you turned to walk back into the house

“Wait-” he grabbed your shoulders and turned you to him. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt like you were going to be sick. You were too close; Intoxicatingly close. You could smell the cigarettes on his breath.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” You blurted out. He pulled his hands away and took a step back like you had burnt him. He looked guilty but sorrowful.

“Uh, we decided to go to different parties tonight.” He mumbled. You chuckled and glared into his soft brown eyes.

“So she didn’t want you to ruin the vibes of her ‘perfect party?”

“No, that’s not it! I just- I wanted to come here because… well because I miss you, and I miss hanging out in a group and I just wanted to come apologize, and, and I knew you wouldn’t hear me out if she was here too.” he panted. You could tell from his pleading eyes that he was serious. Your shoulders relaxed.

“Eddie, you don’t need to apologize to me, for anything. You got everything you’ve wanted. You graduated, and I am so, so proud of you for that. You got your band and your sheep. And… you have Chrissy. She’s a hot commodity... and you’re lucky to have each other. So you have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I hurt you-”

“And I’m over it. Look, I have no ill will against you, Eddie, but I think we just need to run in different circles for a while.” You murmured, eyes glued to your converse.

“I-is… is that what you really want?” Eddie took a step towards you.

NO “Yeah. I have a really great group of friends that love me for me. They don’t need anything else from me but me.”

“You’re still hanging around with Gareth, right?” Eddie hardens.

“Yeah. I am. He’s been the best friend I could ask for. He takes good care of me.”

“I’ll make sure he keeps taking care of you. I’ll kill him if he hurts you…”

“Save it, Eddie. I am so over your knight-in-shining-armor bullshit. You hurt me. You don’t get to decide who I hang out with or how I’m treated. You had a choice… You chose. So… deal with it.” The alcohol gave you more courage than you needed, but you weren’t mad. You were at peace. You turned and went back to the party. You didn’t realize, but that was just the way you needed to end your night. Closure and clarity. You returned to your spot beside Gareth to play another round of flip cup. Eddie selfishly couldn’t take his eyes off you. When he saw Gareth pick you up in a congratulatory hug, he gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stand picturing your story with Gareth and not him. So he slung back his last beer and stormed out the front door.

July 1986

The Hideout was never your favorite place to be. It looked like nothing more than a shack from the side of the highway that cut through Hawkins. Half of the lights on the neon side were burnt out, you doubted they had been changed since the joint opened in the 50s. The small bar had a few booths as well as tall bar tables, which were moved to create a makeshift dance floor in front of a dingy stage. The drum kit and microphones barely fit onto it, but you were sure that the ragtag group that made up Corroded Coffin would make it work. They always did before. There were three pool tables in the back of the space, behind the dark linoleum island bar. They had definitely seen better days, most of them missing pieces of velvet or pockets missing nets to catch balls underneath them. They were usually used for bikers or regulars to sit girls on them and make out. The bar smelt stale, like rotting wood, old beer and sweat. There are many places that you would rather be, but when your best friend begs you to make their regular crowd of 10-11 people (including staff) a person or two bigger, you go. Gareth treaded the idea of you coming to the show lightly, as you had not talked to their frontman since the graduation party. You felt no ill will and really didn’t mind being around him. You got your closure, and you were there for Gareth. No need to think too much into it.

You had seen Eddie around Hawkins in the last month. You had gotten a job at Family Video and would regularly work with Steve and Robin, who Eddie frequented. Your heart didn’t hurt when they talked about him anymore, and when he occasionally showed up to Family Video, or you saw him in Starcourt, or in the grocery store, you gave him the same curt but friendly smile every time. He understood the boundaries that you had given him. Friendly, but not friends. He always smiled back, but his heart sank. He missed you more than you could know.

You shuffled yourself into the closest booth to the stage and waited in soft anticipation. You hadn’t been to a Corroded Coffin show in months. It felt odd but familiar. You ordered yourself a rum and coke and absently sipped it as you listened to the Johnny Cash record that was playing on the jukebox.

You heard the door swing open behind you and a bubbly chuckle ring out through the bar. A sound that you definitely would not picture hearing in a place like this. You turned around to see Chrissy. Of course she would be here. Her strawberry blonde hair was curled in perfect ringlets and was held away from her face with a ribbon. Her long legs were framed perfectly under her light pink romper. Her waist beautifully cinched with a thick purple belt. Her lips were lusciously painted a glossy pink and her lashes were manicured to be wispy. She looked perfect, far too pretty to be here. Behind her followed Tiffany and Sarah. The trio picked a bar table that skirted the dance floor, across the bar from you. You, like most of the men in the building, followed their figures to their seats and Chrissy stole a glance at you. She looked at you and waved but you looked away, sinking a large gulp of your drink.

Chrissy had reveled in the fact that her prom stunt had secured her some extra attention for the last week or so of school. Everyone seemed to be talking about her in the hallways and although not all of it was good, she thought it was better to have people talking bad about you than not at all. Suddenly, all of the jocks were at her locker, or fighting to sit with her at lunch, desperate to show her that they were better than the freak she had somehow landed herself with. The attention shot her ego and popularity to an alltime high and she became the queen bee of Hawkins - there was no more sharing or cliques, everyone was under Chrissy’s spell. Everyone thought of her as either generous for going to prom with Eddie, or a down-to-earth girl next door because she kept associating herself with him. It made your stomach roll but she continued to smile sweetly at everyone in the hallway. She often let her gaze linger on you too long. She had everything she thought she wanted those last weeks of highschool. Everything but her best friend. And little did she know, the newfound fame didn’t reach beyond the month of June and the hallways of Hawkins High.

As she sat at her table, her manicured nails wagged at men who were ogling her from the bar behind her. She flashed a devious grin to her friends and waltzed over to the bar. You watched closely. Last time you had heard, she was still with Eddie… There's no other reason why she would be here. You heard her boisterous laugh once more as she strutted back to her table, a cocktail in her hand. You never would have thought that Chrissy would be the type to take advantage of anyone, but then again, in the past few months, you watched the person you thought you knew the best change into a stranger in front of you. You rolled your eyes and focused your attention to the glass in your hand.

You suddenly heard the humm of an amp and the vibrations of a bass being strummed. You looked up to see your friends taking the stage; All but Eddie. You cheered excitedly for Jeff, Gareth and Tommy but your heart pounded wildly in anticipation for the lanky metalhead that was missing. The few stage lights flickered as the energy and volume of the instruments rose and they began their set. Right before he started singing, Eddie sprang onto stage. There sure wasn’t a huge crowd, but everyone cheered as he appeared. You felt a lump in your throat as you watched the men perform, your eyes never leaving Eddie’s form. You felt your temperature rise what felt like 10 degrees. There was no doubt that he had charisma on stage, that is where he was born to be; But you felt all too emotional looking up at the man that you used to call your best friend. The man you thought that you might be in love with, the man that you thought you found closure with. You let yourself feel the waves of emotion flow through you with the music as you rocked back and forth with the rhythm. When applause erupted, you let your mind quiet with the music. The lights came back on and you grabbed your bag and your glass and got ready to return it to the bar. As you got up to leave, you noticed a gaggle of green letterman jackets had pushed their tables next to the one Chrissy and the girls were sitting at. Your anxiety spiked. You hadn’t talked to any of the jocks since prom and were fine with being the pariah of the group, but the fact that none of your friends were with you now made you feel nervous. You peered at the group from the other side of the bar and watched as Jason leaned in to whisper something into Chrissy’s ear. She slapped his arm playfully and giggled. You felt sick. You couldn’t wait for the boys to get their gear so you could say your goodbyes.

“Well, how’d ya like it?” The familiar voice instantly broke the tension in your body. You turned and gave Gareth a peck on the cheek.

“It was awesome, rockstar! You all were great” you say to Jeff and Tommy who were now sitting at the bar. They smiled and raised their fresh beers to you.

“So, you wanna get out of here? After party at my place. Got beer and the shit you like.” he wiggled his eyebrows at you. As much as you wanted to celebrate their show, you needed quiet. You needed to just go home and shower off the gross conflicting feelings you had.

“As tempting as that sounds, I think I just need to go home tonight, Gar.” he studied your face. The sheer amount of time that you had spent with him meant he could read you like a book. He scanned the dingy room and found the source of your anxiety. His gaze hardened at the green jackets infiltrating their space.

“They better not have said or done anything to you, I’ll kill them-”

“No no no they didn’t, just weird to see them all here” you reassured. Both of your gazes softened as you found the dark battle jacket amongst the lettermen. Eddie was scoffing loudly and flailing his hands. After a fantastic show, you expected to see him beaming, but his face was set in a hard scowl.

Eddie was slowly losing his patience. He had practically begged Chrissy to come to his gig tonight. He knew that there would be potential for the Hideout to start paying them for regular gigs if they brought in a crowd, but this was the opposite of what he wanted. When he was on stage he met with two pairs of eyes, your beautiful bright eyes and her glazed over blue ones. He was disappointed to see one of them. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you the whole set. He had forgotten how much he missed having you in the crowd. He could feel your energy from 20 feet away. It made him want to perform better. When he looked over to Chrissy’s table, he lost his spark. She looked disinterested. She was busy gabbing to her friends the whole time. Then, when he saw the meatheads walk in, he wanted to jump right off the stage and end the gig right then. But he pushed because at least they would be helping their audience numbers. Once Eddie took a moment to mentally prepare himself in the green room after the show, he plastered on a fake smile and sauntered over to Chrissy. He went to give her a chaste peck, but she turned her face for him to kiss her cheek.

“My lipgloss, Ed!” She giggled. Eddie rolled his eyes, shot her a sickly sweet smile and planted his lips on her cheek. The girls sitting next to Chrissy oohed and ahhed and the jocks kept to their own conversation, but their presence seemed like it was to mock him. He instantly got caught in his own head, wondering if their intent really was malicious, or if he was just reliving past high school trauma. He was pulled out of his trance when Chrissy’s manicured hand pulled on the lapels of his vest.

“Hey, rockstar! I’m talking to you!” She teased. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“Sorry, babe. What were you saying?”

“There’s a party out at Lover’s Lake, Jason’s parent’s cabin. Do you want to drop off your band stuff first then we can head out? We can grab some blankets and just sleep in the back of the van because I don’t know about you, but I want to be fully alone when we-” she blabbed, Eddie cut her off by taking her wrists in his hands.

“Woah, woah! I told you, the band is having their after party at Gareth’s house. You promised me we would be there. Come on, Chris.” Eddie pouted. She had been ditching him more often to go out with other people. He tried not to let his insecurities get the best of him, but it felt like he was losing her interest. This was something he wasn’t going to budge on. This was his night. She was supposed to be there for him. He couldn’t help but think that if it was you in Chrissy’s place, there wouldn’t even be a debate. He wouldn’t have even had to ask you to show up in the first place.

“Oh, come on. Don’t you want to go out to the cabin?” She searched for any kind of agreement she could get from any of the jocks. They either politely smiled at her or avoided her eye contact. The invitation was for Chrissy not Chrissy and Eddie. “It’s going to be, like a million times better than sitting in Derek’s-”

“Gareth’s” Eddie seethed.

“Gareth’s - whatever - Gareth’s dusty garage. It’ll be romantic. We can have the whole ride up there just you and me…” She cooed, she moved her lips to the lobe of Eddie’s ear “and I can tell you how wet you made me watching you up on that stage” she whispered. Eddie knew that he should be turned on. But he was so angry with her that he couldn’t oblige her. Not this time.

“I’m not budging, Chris. We need to go to the afterparty. I need to be there with my boys, too. We have cause to celebrate and this is really important to me.”

“But, Eddie…”

Eddie was tired of the games, he was fed up with her tonight.

“Either we go to Gareth’s together, or we won’t be seen at any parties anymore.” Eddie challenged. He hated that he had to give her an ultimatum but if that’s what it took., then so be it. He didn’t want to be the tag along. Not tonight. Chrissy’s stare hardened at her. He had never challenged her like that before.

“Alright, Munson. You win. We’ll go to your little party.” Eddie rolled his eyes and told Chrissy he was going to check in with the rest of the band to see what the plan was. She nodded and Eddie turned away, giving the rest of the table a tight smile. He moped his way over to where you and Gareth watched silently. He seemed to light up a bit when he saw your inviting smile.

“Hey, congrats rockstar. You did an amazing job up there” You wrapped a hand around Eddie’s bicep. Eddie felt a shiver run down his spine at the contact.

“You think so? Thanks.” Eddie blushed. He was always one to be so sure of himself, this lack of confidence threw you off.

“Hell yeah I think so! It was the best show I have seen you guys do yet!” You exclaimed.

“Are you gonna come to the afterparty?” Eddie asked, hope splayed in a smile across his face.

“No, I gotta sit this one out. I have to open Family Video tomorrow.”

Eddie looked dejected. He was so happy to see you in the crowd, he had hoped he would be able to talk to you at the party and really apologize.

“Trust me dude, we’re all bummed. I’ve been trying to change her mind for the past 15 minutes. I even offered to call Robin to ask her to cover myself!” Gareth offers. You give the men a sorry smile.

“You’re gonna have a great time without me! It’s your night. Don’t let me ruin it.” God, you were so selfless. He couldn’t help but admire you in the dim light. So kind and so beautiful. It wasn’t fair how things ended between you. He was an ass. You turned away from him to walk to the door after sending kind waves to the band.

“Y/N” Eddie grabbed your wrist and pleaded with his chocolate eyes. You got lost in them almost immediately. You knew what you felt when he was on stage and you’re pretty sure he knew and felt it too. “Wait, please come to the-”

“Eddie! Are we going or what?” you hear a shrill voice from behind the man staring down at you. Chrissy looked pissed (in more ways than one). Her hands rested on her hips and she tapped her foot on the ground as she swayed. Eddie groaned and let go of you. The heat in your chest quickly faded. You peered around Eddie to smile tightly at the blonde. Her eyes widened and softened at your gesture. She slowly raised her hand to wave to you. You looked back to Eddie.

“You-you better go” you smile sadly at him. “You’re girl’s waiting for you. Have fun tonight, Eddie. Again, you deserve it.”

For the second time, Eddie watched you walk away and he fell into the impatient arms of a girl that he thought he loved. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your figure as you slipped out of the bar into your car.

As you got in, you let out a big sigh and punched your steering wheel. You knew you made the right choice by leaving and not entertaining anything with the man that trapped your heart all over again, but it would have been so easy to fall back into his arms and pretend like Chrissy didn’t exist. But you didn’t want to stoop to their levels. You didn’t want to get trapped in what was easy versus what was best for you. So you turned the key in the ignition and you quietly drove back to your apartment, retiring to a warm bath and a book, before crawling into bed and letting loneliness and the thought of Eddie on stage singing to you lull you to sleep.

September 1986

Your first summer of freedom did not follow the plan you thought you had perfected before graduating. Some of those things on your list looked similar, but with different people. You often went joyriding with Steve and Robin after closing Family Video and spent long nights out at Lover’s Lake with old drama club friends. It felt liberating that you didn’t feel a hope about a certain mop headed boy, even though you had been frequenting band practices and summer Hellfire meetings to casually see him as much as possible. You found some independence and even though you often felt lonely without Eddie and Chrissy, you knew you were doing fine without them.

You had just gotten home from a shift at Family Video. The last bit of humid summer air kissed your skin. You shrugged off your vest and other clothes and tossed them into your hamper before starting a steaming shower to wash away the day. You had been looking forward to treating yourself to a face mask, a steam and ending the night by curling up into bed with the newest Stephen King novel. You flopped down on your bed, dawning your favorite oversized tee shirt from your dad’s auto body shop and a pair of sleeper shorts. Your hair was tied loosely in a towel and your face felt clean and soft. You sighed with content as the night was finally yours. You don’t remember how long it took, but you dozed. You awoke to the record you had started playing being long hushed; your glassy eyes opened in accompaniment to the shrill ring of your phone. You grabbed at it and groggily answered. You were greeted by preppy sobs ringing through your ear.

“H-hello?”

“Y-Y/N” Chrissy wailed. You could smell the alcohol wrecking her through the phone. “I-I need you to tell me I’m not a bad person.”

You paused and almost laughed to yourself. “Chrissy, why are you calling me?”

“I, I just need someone to tell me that I am not a bad person, okay? No one likes me anymore.” You could hear hiccups between her sobs and shuffling from whatever party she was at.

“It’s late, Chrissy. You should go home and go to sleep-” You move to hang up the phone but her cry stops you.

“I did a really bad thing, Y/N and I need someone to tell me that I’m worth keeping around because no one likes me anymore. No one wants to talk to me and no one looks at me and I want boys to look at me and like me and-”

“Chrissy you have the boy that you love right now. What are you talking about? You have everything you could ever want…” You scoffed.

“Y/N, I, I don’t think I love Eddie. I don’t think I ever did.” Chrissy whispers. The phone stays quiet save for the party behind her. Her sniffles break the silence every few moments.

“What did you do, Chris?” Your head was spinning. How could she not love Eddie? One of the easiest people on the planet to love. He was the boy who knew how to make anyone feel special and wanted just by looking at them. He would drop anything and run to Chrissy if she ever needed anything and you knew that for a fact. You knew that he was eager to take others’ pain away and make it his to help. He was perfect, a treasure that deserved to be protected at all costs, not be treated like this. Eddie was probably alone in his trailer right now, worried about his girlfriend, or waiting to give her a ride home, while she’s calling you to tell you that she doesn’t love him? How dare she? You wanted to believe that the girl that you used to know was still in there somewhere. That Chrissy would never do anything to hurt someone that she cared about - even if she didn’t love him…

“Well.. there’s this party going on and, and all the old jocks are here you know? A-Aand Jason and I, well like we were always ‘will they won’t they’ you know? And i saw him at this party and Eddie was being a total jerk and didn’t want to come with me and he just doesn’t look at me like these guys do and-”

“What:” you scoff. “Like a piece of meat?”

“Y/N please. Like I am wanted, like I am attractive. Like I am a prize, okay? Eddie looks at me, but it doesn’t feel as good as when Jason or Andy or Patrick looks at me - like in high school-”

“Chrissy, that’s really fucked up and pathetic. Why are you calling me?”

“Because you’re my best friend - well, you were… and I-I-I miss you, I shouldn’t have stopped being your friend, and I’m sorry I let stupid Eddie come in between us.”

“Stop. Chrissy, Eddie didn’t come between you and me, You came between Eddie and I, and the shit you pulled was fucked up. So tell me what you want so I can get off the goddamn phone and I can rinse the disgusting feeling I have off for talking to you about this-”

“I cheated on Eddie”!” She blurted out. “I’ve been cheating on Eddie for months now. And I’m a bad person but it feels so good to be wanted, Y/N I can’t explain it.”

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say, Chrissy. That’s fucked up, even for you. You have been the lowest of fucking low, but I never thought you would be the type of person to totally fuck up your relationship like that. I don’t know why you wanted to call and tell me this, but I don’t feel sorry for you. Not in the slightest. Goodnight.” You slammed your receiver down on your phone and felt tears prick at your eyes. Not your Eddie. Eddie doesn’t deserve this. You sat in contemplative silence - unwilling to believe the conversation you had just happened.Your phone rang again and you jolted in panic.

“Hello” you whispered.

“Hey, Y/N… Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up” You heard his gruff voice and your breath hitched.

“E-Eddie, why are you calling me?”

“Sorry, sorry I just - I’m kind of freaking out because I haven’t heard from Chrissy in like three days and I just got a call from her I think and she was sobbing your name before the line went dead… I - I was just wondering if she had called you or if something happened I guess. This is stupid I shouldn’t have called you” He sounded exhausted and like he had been crying.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m just tired of these disappearing girlfriend tricks I keep getting fucking trapped in.” He lets out a dry chuckle.

“I don’t know where she is but I think I know where to find her… I’ll let you know if I hear anything. Okay?” You hear his long sigh over the phone and you wish that you could forget the boundaries that had built up between you and run to him. Tell him that you were there for him and kiss away his pain. Your heart was breaking for him (even though you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction… you had warned him.).

“Hey, Sweetheart?”

“What’s up, Eddie?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything-” you heard his voice crack.

“Eddie, it’s okay-”

“No. It’s not.” he cut you off. “I’m so sorry for the shitty person I had been. I fucked up one of the good things I had in my life because I got selfish, and in my own head. I never wanted to hurt you.. I - I just… I don’t know why I chose her. I wanted it to be you so badly, but I forced it.. And I just hope that I can convince you to be my friend again someday.”

“We’ll see what we can do, Ed.” with that you clicked your phone back to the receiver and threw on a flannel. Although you hadn’t been in quite some time, the only place that the meatheads frequented was the Carver residence on the other side of town. You never felt your place there, but you knew how to navigate it. You hastily started your car and set off for your destination.

Jason’s street was littered with abandoned station wagons and empty solo cups. You could hear the music blasting from the beginning of the cul de sac - your head already began to pound. You snaked your way to the end of the manicured driveway and slammed your car door shut. You trudged to the open front door, keeping your head down. As you passed through waves of people, you could feel stares into the back of your head and giggles of your name. You scowled and trained your eyes to search for a pair of tanned legs and a blonde ponytail. You paused in the kitchen, desperate to find Chrissy and your chance to leave when you felt a hand wrap around your waist and warm breath sneak up to your ear.

“I didn’t remember inviting you to my party… outcast” a baritone voice huffs.

“You didn’t, Carver… I’m picking something up and then I will be out of your hair. Don’t let me ruin your night.” You pull away from him but his grip on your waist becomes bruising.

“Aww, come on, outcast. Why don’t we party like we used to. You’ve been hanging out with the freaks for too long… Forgot how to have fun. Why don’t you let me show you what you’ve been missing, huh?” Jason spun you around so his piercing blue eyes were boring into yours.

“I would literally rather poke my eyes out with hot knives. Where’s Chrissy”

“Oh, god you really are a desperate frigid bitch, aren’t you? You know I didn’t want to believe Chrissy when she told me but, I guess she was right” The blonde sneered.

“Yeah, yeah, Jason. I get it. Go take your steroids and show the rest of your friends how manly you are… I’m not interested. Now do you know where I can find her, or did you lose the brain cells for facial recognition too?” Jason stared at you slack jawed, then his grin slid across his face. It made you sick.

“Well, when I left her an hour ago, she was - ahem - cleaning herself up in my room. Feel free to go look there if you’d like… But be warned, you might not like what you see up there.” He giggled. He brought his face into your cheek and your blood froze. He puckered his lips and planted them to the side of your face.

“It was… so good to see you again, Y/N. Glad to see you really did peak in high school… ugh and that says something, doesn’t it?” He breezed past you to leave you to physically recoil and regather. You wanted to turn around and leave… fuck Chrissy and fuck all of these people… but you had to do this for Eddie. You turned to the staircase facing the kitchen and pace up. Although it had been a long time since you had been in the Carver house, you still felt like you could clear the top floor in a good time. You past couples pressed against hallways and huddled into rooms. You hear giggles and beds creaking and girls crying, but no Chrissy.

You were ready to give up hope, having tried all of the door handles and being met with locked doors or your apologies for intruding. The last door at the end of the hallway opened as you went to reach for the door and you were met with the girl you had been searching for for the last ten minutes. Her eyes widened in horror and relief to see you. She looked like a mess. Her usually neat slicked ponytail was slated on the side of her head, flyaways crowning her. Her eyes were glazed over eyes were smudged black with mascara and eyeliner. Her flush in her cheeks made her intoxication very apparent and her lips were kiss-swollen and smudged. She sported one of Jason’s old Hawkins raglans in replacement of whatever tiny top she had worn to the party. You felt bad for her at first sight; pity running through your veins as her lips quivered. Her paused tears resumed as she wrapped you in a hug.

“Thank you so much for coming, Y/N. Thank you so much.” she sobbed.

“Yeah, Chris. This is fucked. Let’s go, okay?”

You guided the girl down the stairs and out of the house - refusing to look anywhere but the floor in case Jason returned to try and claim you as a prize again. Chrissy had blabbered nonsense all the way to the car while you tried to prevent her from going horizontal. You closed her door and paced back to your side of the car. You were greeted with silence and the smell of vodka.

“Who else, Chrissy?” you whispered.

“Wh-wha-”

“Who else did you fuck, Chrissy?!” you yelled, your eyes never left her figure, her eyes did not leave her feet.

“It was just Jason… tonight.”

“For fucks sake! Are you kidding me?”

“Can we just go? I know I’m a piece of shit okay? But some of us need the attention! Okay! I’m not alright with walking around feeling like I am fading away into no one and that no one cares who I am anymore! I want someone to look at me like other girls get looked at! I want to be like you where you can find other friends and you can go out and be effortlessly yourself and everyone loves you!” “What the FUCK are you talking about? You have a boyfriend, Chrissy. He should be the one that makes you feel like that. HE looks at you like that! He is the one that you should be loving because he loves you!” Chrissy let out a dry laugh.

“Oh come on now, Y/N you and I both know he doesn’t love me. He doesn’t look at me like that because he is too busy looking at you like that! You had me and you had him and it wasn’t good enough! So we both needed to settle for second best! And I am just not okay with being second best anymore!”

“You are the one that gave me up for all your popular friends, you and Eddie both chose each other over me! And look who is here picking up the pieces after you handed yourself out to the basketball team, and while your own fucking boyfriend traverses the streets of Hawkins because he has no idea where you are! I was fucking right. You both deserve each other.” You shoved your car into drive and rolled your car into the road. Chrissy silently sobbed while you focused your eyes on the night ahead of you.

Your ride was long and awkward. When you pulled up to your house, Chrissy seemed surprised.

“I can’t let you go back to your house like this, Chris. We need to get you cleaned up.” She nodded a silent thank you and the two of you retreated to the second floor of your house. You got Chrissy a change of clothes and a toothbrush while she was in the shower and put her alcohol drenched outdfit in the wash. You waited for her in your room. When she sheepishly entered, you gestured to the bed you had made for her on the floor. She settled into her blankets and an awkward silence covered you once again.

“Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me… I don’t deserve it.”

“I know, Chrissy. But you need someone to help you make a couple good decisions tonight. That was a fucking mess, at Jason’s” You heard her breath catch in her throat. “You have to tell Eddie what’s been going on, Chrissy. And he’s going to hate you. But you can’t do that to him. You might not love him but you and I both know that he deserves better than this.”

“I know,” she conceded quietly. You laid your head on your pillow. Your alarm clock read 3:39am. You tossed and turned in your sleep all night, pictures of Eddie’s heartbroken face haunting your dreams.

You awoke to Chrissy folding blankets and stacking pillows onto your dresser.

“Hey, morning. How are you feeling?” you croaked.

“Well, I’m here and that’s a way better place than I thought I was going to be staying” Chrissy chuckled dryly. “Thank you again for last night, Y/N. I really owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it. I just hope that if the roles were reversed you would do the same for me.” The air between you seemed palpable, it reminded you of when Chrissy would be doing the very same thing after a weekend long sleepover. You both gave each other testing smiles and short giggles.

You dropped Chrissy off after stopping to get coffee for the two of you. Chrissy looked at you apologetically and unclasped her seatbelt.

“Thanks for the ride” she offered

“Welcome. Good luck with Eddie” you mumbled. As badly as you felt for your old friend, you could not wait for her downfall. She didn’t deserve Eddie and he didn’t deserve to be hurt like this. But the light of old times seeping through the walls that you had rebuilt felt nice, even if it was artificial, fleeting. You flashed the girl a comforting smile.

“Thanks. I think I’m really going to need it. I really fucked up.” she looked down and began to pick at her nails.

“But this might be a learning lesson for you at least. I hate to say it but Karma can be a bitch sometimes.” you grab her wrist and squeeze. Your hands warm her veins and she relaxes into your touch. She pats you on the hand as she wriggles out of your car and trots to her door. She looks back at you before she closes the door behind you. She really stares into you as she raises a hand and waves. It was goodbye for good.

You got cut early from your shift at the video store.You were little to no help to the gorgeous head of hair working with you anyways. You tell Steve about your night, about Chrissy’s admissions and your call with Eddie. You were unsure of what your expectations were at this point. You call with Eddie shifted the dynamic of friendly strangers and you again found yourself battling between easy choices and choices that were good for you. Luckily for you, you were wasting time with Hawkin’s most eligible bachelor and love-life-advice solicitor.

“I don’t know, Y/N all I’m saying is there are so many guys in this town that would actually take you out and treat you right, you don’t deserve this shit” the boy quipped. You loved how honest Steve could be. He had quickly given you more examples of what a good friend looked like. “Like what about that Gareth kid?! Have you seen the way he looks at you? Worships the ground you walk on. Get a guy like that” Steve folds his hands on his hips. You scoff at him.

“Gareth and I are just friends. Trust me, we’ve gotten into all of that relationship stuff a long time before.” Steve’s eyes grew to saucers. You giggled. “It was one kiss this summer and both of us knew it wasn’t gonna happen, okay?” You rolled your eyes as you slid a box of freshly rewound tapes to him.

“Alright, alright - poor guy. I’m just saying. Munson? He should be old news. He and Chrissy deserve each other…”

“Maybe I should test drive a guy like you then, Harrington?” you sneered. He dropped the box, his back turned to you but you could tell his cheeks had flushed. “Or…Hargrove?”

“Hey!”

“Or-”

“Alright enough!” Steve chided. You suppressed your giggle. “You think you’re so funny, huh? I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“I know, Steve. Trust me, I wish I could move on. The two of them do deserve each other… But every time I think of them making up and going back to being good, it makes me want to rip my hair outI can’t stand it.”

“Damn kid. You really are down bad” Steve jabbed you in the side of the arm and you shrieked. “If you really feel that way then I guess you gotta let him know.”

“What if they do get back together and I laid it all out for nothing? Or what if I’m old news to him, Steve? I cant handle that…”

“Dude, if he makes the same mistake as he did at prom he won’t just have Gareth to deal with, okay? He’ll have me, Buckley and half of the Family Video clientele coming after him.” Steve glanced at the clock and gestured to the door. “Now get out of there and fix your bullshit life” he winks. Your smile lightens your whole face. You grab your bag from behind the counter and scurry out the door after planting a kiss to Steve’s cheek. He was left to the fluorescent aisles, shaking his head. You really did deserve better.

You pulled into your driveway, ready to spend the afternoon in Gareth’s backyard smoking weed and watching as many horror movies that you could before inevitably passing out. As you sauntered up to your door, you realized your plans for the day had been eviscerated. Sitting on your front step was a cardboard box that had been taped together neatly. Sitting on top of the box laid a note scrawled with purple ink:

“Y/N, I didn’t know who else to trust with this, and I am so sorry to ask.

Please take this box and give it to Eddie if you see him. I can’t bear to give it to him myself and I can’t tell anyone else about what I did.

Thank you for being such a good friend even when I didn’t deserve one.

Chrissy”

You let out a large sigh as you picked up the box and opened your door. You didn’t want to call Eddie, you were scared to find out how much he knew. Part of you wanted to leave the box on the doorstep for him to quietly pick up without notice, but you knew that your heart couldn’t handle knowing he was so close and you did nothing. So you picked up the receiver to your landline and dialed a familiar set of numbers.

“Hey champ! When you coming over?” A peppy boy answered.

“Hey, Gar. Something came up and I don’t think I can come over.”

“What did he do, Y/N?” Gareth’s tone hardened immediately. You could feel his anger radiating through the telephone.

“Nothing, it's more like what Chrissy did…” You spent the next half an hour telling Gareth about your encounters yesterday. Gareth huffed bitterly in response. Eddie Jeff and Gareth hadn’t been the same since their gig at the Hideout. Eddie began dodging band practice to be with Chrissy. He sacrificed DND campaigns and hellfire meetings to hide under the bleachers to go to the mall with Chrissy, or go to dinner with the jocks. Eddie became the most popular recluse. The three musketeers became strangers and the practices they had now - if any - were full of tension and unfamiliarity. Jeff and Gareth resented Eddie for the way his world revolved around Chrissy, and Eddie resented the two for not being happy for him, for not supporting him in what he wanted. In the middle was you. Eddie longed to be close to you again, but Jeff and Gareth refused to let him too close, you wouldn’t be hurt again, at least not on their watches. Although hostility ran high, all of you craved so much to be a group again, to be able to forgive and forget. But as all of you had figured out, that was much easier said than done.

“I’m coming over. I don’t want you to be alone when he shows up.”

“Gareth, I will be fine. I need to talk to him anyway” Your voice got quiet

“Talk to him about what?”

“I-I just need to know what happened between him and Chrissy. I need to know what that means for me, Gareth. I’m sick and tired of wondering if it could happen.”

“Y/N that’s a bad idea. We should just be done with him”

“I know, Gareth. He doesn’t deserve us. But I’m tired of being strong and stubborn. I just need to talk to him. I need to see him.” There was a silence over the phone. Gareth’ heart broke for you, but he knew that he couldn’t protect you from this.

“If anything happens, you give me a call and I will be over in 5 minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” You chuckle.

“Hey, now! I mean it”

“Gareth?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I love you, you know?” there was a loud sigh over the phone.

“Yeah I know. I love you too.”

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

“It has to be.” With a click, you were left to listen to the dial tone. You place your phone down and get yourself ready. You didn’t know when Eddie would be over, but you wanted to prepare before he did.

You sat in the shower until the water ran cold. Your skin felt scrubbed free from any imperfection, but it felt tight with stress. You forced yourself to make food but could barely eat. The rest of your evening consisted of staring at the same open page in your book while reruns of Match Game bled through the living room. The sun had set, along with the hopes that you would get closure tonight. Later, you heard the rattle of an engine outside accompanied by the thrash of Ozzy Ozbourne. You shot off the couch and toed your way to the front door. On the other side, you could hear a cacophony of swears and pacing footsteps. A few moments later, three hesitant knocks on your door. You took a couple of breaths and turned the handle. You were greeted with a tousled mop of hair and fair skin. His jeans hung low on his hips and he wore a thinning band t-shirt. His pale arms gripped his shoulders, flashing patches of inky figures across his forearms. His face, usually soft and blushing, looked pale. Dark circles encapsulated his coffee coloured irises. His nose was red and his lip was quivering. As awful as he looked, he was so tragically beautiful, like a muse. His lips still puckered and dared you to dart out and kiss them. His frame towered over yours and threatened to encapsulate you whole. You wanted nothing more. You gripped the inside of your doorframe in grounding, afraid you were going to evaporate into the cooling evening.

“Eddie, Hi” You squeaked. The boy looked dully at you as you took in his appearance. “I-I saw Chrissy’s note… the box is just inside I’ll-” You turned to leave but Eddie’s sigh held you in place.

“Fuck the box, Y/N” Eddies voice was just above a whisper. It rattled as if he were scared that if he spoke too loudly, the whole world would collapse in on him. His eyes lined with tears again. “What happened last night?” He demanded.

“I found her at a party… she had called me and, well I couldn’t just leave her there so…I took her home with me and she told me she was a bad person…” your eyes were trained to the floor. “I took her home in the morning and then the box was waiting for me after work, so you might have to fill in the rest of the blanks for me.”

“She fucked me over. That’s what happened! She went out and she fucked half the basketball team while I fucking waited for her to come back into my fucking arms! I tried to give her everything but nothing was ever good enough!” Eddie seethed. “ ‘I need more attention, Eddie’ or, ‘come out to this party, Eddie’ ‘ I want to do this instead, Eddie.’ ‘Why aren't you more like Jason, Eddie?’ FUCK I should have fucking known better, but I’m the fucking freak, I don’t get what I want. I don’t deserve to be happy because this is partially my fault too…” Eddie fisted at his hair while he paced on your front step.

“Eddie. I don’t know what to say-”

“You don’t need to say anything but I told you so. That’s what I fucking deserve. You shouldn’t be sitting here pitying me. You should be laughing at me” Eddie whimpered. You had never seen him so small, so fragile. You wanted to rub the tension out of his shoulders and kiss his furrowed brows until he looked like your Eddie again.

“Yeah but I’m not because I care about you Eddie.” You reach out to touch him but he pulls away like you burned him. “I’m really fucking sorry that this happened. No matter what I think of you, you don’t deserve this.” Eddie stopped in his tracks and trained his eyes on your meek figure. You shuddered when you looked up and made eye contact with him. Your eyes were wet and his eyes were pools of sorrow, But his gaze held a foreign glimmer to them. You let Eddie study you in silence.

“What can I do to make it better?”

“I… I don’t know, Eddie. That might be a conversation to have with Chrissy and you-”

“I’m not talking about me and Chrissy.” Eddie held his gaze on you as he stepped closer to you. He smelt of weed, beer and cheap aftershave.

“Eddie-”

Swiftly, the boy grabbed your cheeks and collapsed into you, smashing his lips with yours. As much as your brain screamed at you to push him off, your bones melted in with his, finally giving into the temptation that your body so desperately craved since your kiss in the theatre. Eddie’s weight moved you backwards into your house and he closed the door behind him. His hands migrated down your torso to your waist as he spun you to pin you back up against your front door. You moaned into his mouth as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. Your hands found their way to Eddie’s chest and you gripped his shirt. He was shaking. It felt like there were only two of you. Kissing Eddie was the most natural thing to happen. Every move he made, your body had the perfect response. He gripped your hips as you slid your hands around his neck into his hair, earning a moan from the metalhead. A pit in your stomach formed at his lips vibrating against yours and you thought your legs would give out. Eddie pressed his body deeper into yours and you swore you could feel his heartbeat in your own chest. As much as you wanted this moment to last forever, you pulled yourself away from him, his eyes still closed and lips slightly parted, also very much in shock as to what had just happened. You gaze up at him as tears unwillingly spill down your cheeks. A mortified expression painted Eddie’s face, immediately thinking that he had overstepped again. He waited for a slap to the face or for you to push him away and begin yelling. But you looked up at him through your glassy eyes and his heart backflipped. His hands returned to your cheeks, thumbs desperately swiping at your tears.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Eddie, we can’t lie to each other. You and I both know I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a long time” a sad smile crept across your face.

“Fuck. I’ve been doing this wrong the whole time. I’ve wanted you this whole time, Y/N. This whole time, not a day has gone by where I wish I could go back to prom night and make the right choice. I am so fucking sorry.”

“I accept your apology, Eddie. But I don’t forgive you” Eddie’s heart sank. The flush he had earned left his face. His hands dropped to your wrists and he gripped tightly, like he was afraid you were going to disappear in front of him. “Not now at least. You fucked me up, Eddie. I waited for you and I watched you break my heart, and I will not be anyone’s second best ever again. I won’t be your second place again.” Eddie shook his head in understanding.

“What can I do? Please tell me what I can do.”

“You can work on how to make good choices again, Ed. Be my friend first. Prove to me you deserve that. Because I am not okay with being a rebound either. Prove to me you want me and this isn’t just a way to get over Chrissy, because my heart can’t take it.” you sob into him and he wraps you into a hug.

“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s you. It’s always been you, and I will spend the rest of my days proving how much I need you.”

“Okay, Eddie. I believe you.” You pull away from him and step away from him. “But we can’t do that again.” You both were too afraid to say anything more, so you stood in silence, taking in each others’ space. Eddie then reached for the door.

“I, I should really go, I guess. I’m not sorry for kissing you, but I’m really sorry if it upset you.” You grab the hand that Eddie had on your front door.

“Eddie, I know you aren’t exactly sober right now, or in the right state of mind to really be alone. So as your friend, I would really like it if you stayed here tonight, so I know that you’re okay.”

“As a friend?”

You nodded firmly.

“I would really like that,” Eddie smiled softly at you.

“Let’s go put a movie on and try and get some sleep.” You grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him up to your bedroom. Eddie climbed onto your bed as you leaned over your TV and punched in The Shining. You joined Eddie on the bed, both of you under the farthest edges of the blanket, too scared to cross a thin boundary that had been set.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, Ed?”

“I was wondering If I- If It would be okay, could I maybe hold you?” Eddie murmured into his lap that he was staring at. “I just feel really cold. I don’t mean anything by it I promise. I just need… to feel something good.”

Wordlessly, you shuffled over to the middle of the bed. Eddie followed suit. You slid down so your head leaned on his chest, his arm draped down your back, his fingers drew circles on your hip. Your arm wrapped around him as a silent reassurance that you were not going anywhere. The steady pounding of Eddie’s heart and the rise and fall of his chest quickly lulled you to sleep. Eddie spent next to no time watching Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall, too busy studying every detail of your body that he could see. As he heard your soft sighs signaling you had fallen asleep, he silently cried into your temple.

Eddie Munson knew he was an idiot, that he fucked up. As much as his heart broke, he couldn’t help but be willing to break it over and over again if it meant that he got to call you his one day.

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dynamic-power · 6 months

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Steddie Time Travel AU, Back to the Past part 4

Part 1 | or read it on ao3

Hey, Steve.

You aren’t going crazy, I promise. I don’t remember exactly what I read in this letter, but I’m going to do my best to tell you what I can. FIrst, and this is the most important thing, trust Eddie. You’re safe with him. Always.

To be honest, I don’t actually know much. Just that when I was 19, I walked into the Upside Down and woke up in 2008. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, the me from 2008, but I do know that you'll come back to 1986. We were successful when I got thrown forward, so I’m hopeful that means it’ll happen again. Though to be honest, who the fuck knows. I’ve only time traveled once before, I’m not exactly an expert.

It’s June, so you don’t have to worry about work. You’re about to get some visitors, actually. Good ones, I promise. You’ll know most of them. They’re coming out for the week. They don’t know why, but we do.

Here’s what I want you to do for now; take it easy. Sleep in that comfortable bed, hang out with people. Let Eddie care for you. He’s really good at it, so just let him.

I know this is weird. You’re nineteen and just woke up married to the Freak. Trust me, I know it’s weird. But I want you to soak it all in. Let yourself be happy for a few days, Stevie.

Eddie knows to give you the next letter when it’s time, because we are going to have to fix this eventually. But I’ve got some things to do here, and you need time to get to Hawkins. So until then, enjoy this life we’ve made for ourselves.

-Steve

P.S. Please tell Eddie that I love him and that I am coming back for him, no matter what. He isn’t showing it right now, but he’s freaking the fuck out. Thanks.

Steve reads the postscript one last time and looks up at Eddie. He looks curious, like he’s dying to ask Steve a million questions, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“He says he loves you,” Steve says softly, smiling when Eddie’s eyes light up. “He also said that he’s going to come back.”

Eddie laughs, but unlike the unrestrained laughter from before, this sounds tight. “This is the kind of man you are. You’re probably in need of reassurance way more than me, but you still take a moment to make sure I’m okay.”

“We’re married.”

Eddie nods, sitting on the foot of the bed. The cat, a tuxedo with bright blue eyes, jumps onto the bed, bumping its head into Eddie's arm before padding across the bed to force itself into Steve’s lap. Steve scratches at its head and it begins to purr.

“That’s Mothy,” Eddie says. “Mothman.”

Steve blinks at the cat. “Mothman?”

“Uh, Yeah.” He scratches at the back of his head with a small smile. “Wait until you hear about the rest of the furry mongrels we’ve let into our house.” He hums. “Okay. I don’t want to tell you too much, because who the fuck knows how this whole time thing actually works. But you should know some things.

“First, like I said, it’s 2008. I know you aren’t from this year, you’ve told me that much at least. But I don’t know what year you’re from.”

“1986.”

Steve hears Eddie take a breath. “Oh,” he says, and it comes out so softly that Steve isn’t actually sure he’s said anything at all. “That’s why you were surprised to see me alive.”

“Yeah.” Steve sets the letter on the nightstand, covering the glasses and book and ring, and gently shifts Mothy out of his lap. The cat gives a small chirp in protest, but obliges and curls onto Eddie’s pillow instead. Steve shifts himself down the bed so he’s sitting next to Eddie. He reaches out and grips Eddie’s arm. “All of the shit with Vecna went down five days ago,” he says. “You- fuck. Eddie, where I’m from - when I’m from? - you died five days ago. You saved us. All of us. You saved me. I didn’t even get the chance to say thank you or- or- anything.”

And then Steve finds himself enveloped in Eddie’s arms again. The angle is awkward as they sit there side by side, but Eddie is warm and is holding him so tightly that Steve has no choice but to melt into it.

“It’s gonna be okay, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, squeezing him harder for a second before shifting back again. “I mean, look at where we ended up. It’s- it’s all so good. Our life together.”

“So we really are married.”

“Well, technically, no. It’s still not legal. But we kinda said ‘fuck it’ and had ceremonies anyway.”

Steve stands, trying to ignore how bare he feels in only a pair of boxer shorts, and approaches the dresser Eddie had just been rummaging through to investigate the pictures.

He’s pleased to recognize most of the people in them. Dustin is there, with Will and Mike and Lucas. There’s one of Max and El, and another of Jon and the new guy that’s living in Steve’s guest room. Argyle. Then, of course, there’s the pictures of the brides and grooms. Nancy and Robin look splendid, Nance in a traditional dress and Robin wearing a white pant suit, but it’s the one of he and Eddie that Steve picks up to study.

They are both dressed in black suits, leaning into each other with matching dopey grins. They look a bit older, Steve would guess mid-twenties, and Steve can’t believe how genuinely happy he looks.

“In the 90’s,” Eddie says, “the four of us decided to commit to each other in front of friends and family.” Steve turns to look at him. He’s still sitting on the foot of the bed and he looks proud.

“Family, too?” Steve asks, and when Eddie’s face falls just a little, Steve doesn’t have to ask to know why. Family, but not his.

“We were so surrounded by love that day, Stevie. Everyone that mattered, that cared about us and our happiness, was there.”

Steve swallows back the unexpected lump forming in his throat. “What else?” he asks, setting the photo down again. “Where are we?”

“Chicago,” Eddie says.

“Really?” Steve asks, eyes going wide.

“Yeah. We bought this house back in the 90’s, too. Good decade for us, the 1990’s,” Eddie says with a laugh. “I, uh, should tell you. We have-”

But he’s cut off by the sound of something playing an odd jingle on Eddie’s nightstand.

“Fuck,” he says, using his cane again to stand. “That’s probably her.” When he gets to the nightstand, he picks up a small, metallic rectangle. Steve watches in confusion as he opens it and holds it to his ear like a phone. “Morning, lovebug.” He pauses, and Steve realizes it is a phone. But it can’t be larger than a wallet; it fits perfectly in Eddie’s hand. “Yeah, gimme a second and I’ll send your dad out to help you.” Another pause, and then he says, “love you,” and snaps the phone shut.

“Is that a telephone?” Steve asks, pointing to the small rectangle.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. A cell phone. You’ve got one too, Stevie. We can look at it later, though. We need to get dressed. You’ve got someone to meet.”

“Who?”

Eddie’s grin is blinding. “Our daughter.”

The tag list is full. Come follow this on ao3! And lmk if you want to be removed from the tag list. Thanks for all the love y'all are giving this. 💜

-----

Part 5

Tag list: @clumsiluni @l0st-strawberry @aol19 @newtstabber @mugloversonly @cryptid-cuties @notaqueenakhaleesi @estrellami-1 @idkuhhh @f-llthevoid @pauphs @tinyplanet95 @therealscarletpumpernickel @feral-possums-in-the-bog @emma-elsa-0000 @stevesbipanic @alycatavatar @insteviewetrust @blue-menace-mind @romanticdestruction @hbyrde36 @jinkiesbiiitchhh @jezabella8 @xxsky-shockxx @livinginthesea @aliea82 @somewhereatdawn @jayree-3-lol @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @nailbatanddungeon @messrs-weasley @thebiblesays @hallucinatedjosten @platinum-sunset @theluckyalien @weirdandabsurd42 @phirex22 @marklee-blackmore @@nerdyglassescheeseychick @bird-with-pencils @skjachukson @yourmom-isgay

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#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #time travel #stranger things #dyno writes #back to the past

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sattlersquarry · 1 year

Text

forget-me-not (steve harrington x gn!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 4) Steve Harrington broke your heart almost a year ago. You think it's only right to still hold a grudge, despite how good he seems.

Word Count: ~5.9k

Warnings: Language, alcohol, sex is mentioned and alluded to but not described, angst with a happy ending, this was originally inspired by Little Freak by Harry Styles but it got away from me and now it's a different beast entirely.

A/N: There are a lot of lovely fics out there where y/n gets stood up for a date and best friend Steve comforts them, but I'm evil, so in this one, Steve is the stander-upper 😈

April, 1986

Hawkins is in shambles.

The earthquake ravaged the town, and now ash spews out of large cracks in the ground every few days. The military attempts to contain the strange, almost reptilian animals in the forests, but there are too many to keep up with, and all citizens are encouraged to be in their homes by 6 p.m.

You don’t fully understand how it went down, how the sweet, small town you grew up in became such a nightmare.

You’ve been spending your time volunteering with the relief effort. In doing so, you’ve gotten closer to people you’ve tangentially known all your life but never gotten to know that well. You’re also forced to spend time with people you’d never wanted to see again.

One such person is Steve Harrington: former playboy turned into…you aren’t really sure yet. Despite your grudge, he’s better. Kinder. Softer around the edges than he was during your school days. During the days he broke your heart.

Perhaps that’s melodramatic. You hooked up once last summer, and then he stood you up for an Enzo’s date. You aren’t even sure he remembers doing it, but as you stand side-by-side folding donated clothes, the memory sears through your brain.

Summer, 1985

You try to contain your excitement as you enter Enzo’s. You’ve been on plenty of dates to cheap diners and movies, but this is your first real, official, proper “adult” date.

So what if you’re doing things out of order? Sure, you’ve already slept with Steve. The two of you both worked at Starcourt before it burned down, and you spent all of June flirting on your breaks. You’d visit him at Scoops Ahoy, he’d visit you at Waldenbooks. He’d walk you to your car the nights you both closed, promising to provide free ice cream for you tomorrow.

After a particularly hard day and long shift, you’re easily enticed when Steve asks if you want to come over.

“For pizza,” he says. “And a movie.”

So you eat pizza, and watch a movie, and then you kiss him a little, and then he kisses you a lot, and the next thing you know, the two of you are in his bed.

It isn’t the awkward one-night stand you’re afraid it will be. On the contrary, Steve is genuine and sincere the morning after.

“I really like you,” he says. He brushes a hair out of your face as you lay side-by-side, curled up under the covers. “I want to take you out.”

“To dinner?”

“No, with a sniper,” he says with a snort. “Yes, to dinner!”

So you agree to go to Enzo’s the following Friday night.

After the mall fire, Steve calls and asks to postpone a couple weeks.

“I’m just in a weird place right now,” he says. His voice is a little hoarse.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, concern etched in your tone. “Do you need anything?”

“No, no! I just—listen, can we meet up in two weeks instead?”

You assure him that’s fine, and you spend the next two weeks preparing for the date. Your friends help you pick an outfit. You decide what you’re going to order ahead of time. You even pick a perfume that’s strawberry scented, since you know that’s Steve’s favorite ice cream flavor.

The day of the date, the Enzo’s host leads you to the table Steve reserved. You wait, and wait, and wait, and after thirty-five minutes, the waiter comes around for the fourth time to ask if you’re ready to order.

“My date’s running a little late,” you say. Panic nests in the back of your mind, but you push it down. “Can I have a few more minutes?”

“You must order something to keep the table,” the waiter says snidely.

“Oh, right, sorry,” you say, snatching up your menu. “Um, can I just have two of the house special?”

The waiter gives you a prim nod and retreats.

You beeline to the slew of payphones, hands shaking as you dial Steve’s number. You get his voicemail.

“Hey, Steve,” you say, trying to keep your voice upbeat. “It’s me. Y/N. Um, I’m at Enzo’s and I’m waiting for you. Our table’s in the back, near the potted plants? I hope you don’t mind, I ordered for you. The waiter was about to blow a gasket. Anyway, I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You return to your table. And wait. And wait. And wait.

The waiter brings you two plates of chicken parmesan. You eat yours and wait. Then, you eat Steve’s, and you wait some more.

90 minutes after your arrival at the restaurant, you head to the payphones again. You suck in a shuddery breath and try to keep from tearing up as your fingers fumble over Steve’s number. Voicemail, again.

“Steve, me again. Are you still coming? The wait staff are starting to give me pitying looks. I really, really had a good time with you this summer and want to see where this goes…it’s fine if you don’t feel the same. But, please, come to the restaurant so we can talk. Or, just call the restaurant and they can get the phone to me. Um, okay. Bye.”

A full two-and-a-half hours after your arrival at Enzo’s, you’re a wreck. You’ve ordered five desserts to try and keep your table, on the foolish hope that Steve will arrive.

He doesn’t.

Your waiter has softened somewhat when he brings you the check.

“Whoever they are,” he says in a low voice, “they aren’t worth it.”

Your face burns hot with embarrassment as you hand him your credit card.

After getting a to-go box for the strawberry cheesecake you ordered for Steve, you slink to the payphones once more. This time, you don’t stop the tears from falling, but you compose yourself enough to keep the final voicemail from devolving into a blubbery mess.

“Steve. I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving. I waited for you for almost three hours.” You sniffle and add, “If all you wanted from me was a one-night stand, why did you make me think otherwise? Jerk. Have a nice life, Harrington.”

You slam the phone against the cradle and stomp out of the restaurant, waiting until you get behind the wheel of your car to let out a heaving sob.

April, 1986

“Earth to Y/N!”

Steve snaps his fingers in your face and you startle.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you say, shaking yourself out of the memories that makes you hate the boy next to you.

“I asked if you had any plans this weekend?”

You resist the urge to scoff. Fun plans, amidst the disaster? And he’s trying to make small talk with you? That further confirms your theory that he’s forgotten all about you, or that he’s such an arrogant blowhard he doesn’t even realize how much he hurt you.

“I might go to Enzo’s,” you say, trying to jog his memory. “It’s one of the only restaurants still open right now, and I hear the chicken parm is really good.”

You glance at him, but his facial expression remains unchanged: a contented smile as he organizes the clothes he’s folding into boxes for summer and winter.

“Hey, that sounds fun. Oh, you should get the strawberry cheesecake. It’s delicious.”

You scowl, having hit your limit of being nice to him.

“You’re such an ass,” you scoff, shoving a bundle of folded sweatshirts into his arms and storming off.

“Huh? What? Whoa, whoa, Y/N! Wait up!”

You weave through the volunteers, heading toward the doors for a much-needed respite. Steve, however, won’t leave you be.

“Hold on!” he says, catching up to you and stepping in front, blocking your escape. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you kidding?” You bark out a humorless laugh. “Wow, you’re more of an idiot than I thought.”

Hurt flashes across his face, brow furrowing.

“Excuse me?”

“You seriously don’t remember?” you say. “Last summer? Enzo’s?”

Steve scrunches his face up with confusion. He rubs his eyes.

“Wait, hold on,” he says. “When did we go to Enzo’s?”

“We were supposed to, at the end of July,” you say. You jab a finger in his chest and push just a tad too hard. “But you fucked me and then stood me up, and you never even called me back. Steve, I felt used and I was mortified. And you have the audacity to ask me about my plans and recommend the Enzo’s strawberry cheesecake, as if I didn’t eat three slices waiting for your sorry ass to show up!”

You start to storm off, but Steve grabs a hold of your shoulder.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he begs. “Please don’t go. I just—I can’t remember—when did we make the Enzo’s plans?”

“Who cares when? What matters is you didn’t show—”

“Y/N!” Steve says louder, catching the attention of some nearby volunteers. He blushes and drags you to a secluded corner behind some old gym mats. Eyes wide with panic and shame, he repeats, “When did we make the plans?”

You wrench free of his grasp.

“We originally made the plans a few days before the Fourth,” you say, voice cold, “after we slept together. You asked to reschedule. And I never heard from you again.”

About seven different emotions flick across Steve’s face.

“Oh, shit. I think I know what—listen, last summer I started having these gaps in my memory, and I—”

“Save it,” you say tiredly. “I don’t need your excuses, Harrington. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Before he can say anything, you leave him alone with his thoughts and regrets.

🍓🍓🍓

Steve is starting to think the universe hates him.

After his foray into the Russian bunker, he remembered about your date and that he needed to reschedule. He even called Enzo’s and changed the reservation. But the weeks following the drugging and the beating, he started to forget more and more things.

He missed a dentist appointment. He forgot what day his parents were coming back into town, so he set the dinner table for the whole family six nights in a row until they actually returned. He unintentionally skipped a job interview at Bradley’s Big Buy with Robin.

That night you waited for him at Enzo’s, he could tell he’d forgotten something. He assumed it was giving Dustin a ride.

“What are you doing here?” Dustin had asked when Steve parked his BMW outside the Henderson house.

“Don’t you need a ride somewhere?” Steve had said with a frown.

Dustin, not one to turn down a free carpool, had Steve take him to the arcade.

Steve wasn’t home when you called from the restaurant. When he did return home, his mother had already deleted your voicemails, assuming they were all telemarketers.

Steve never got your messages, but he didn’t forget about you. He saw you in town a few weeks later and tried to go talk to you, but when you saw him coming, you glared and darted in the other direction.

He tried not to be too hurt by that. His foggy memory made him wonder if he misread any signals. Maybe you had just been looking for a one-night fling. Maybe the sex hadn’t been good for you. Maybe you had moved on and found a new guy while Steve recovered from the Battle of Starcourt. He didn’t hold it against you if you had.

Now, eight months later, Steve realizes he’s been wrong this whole time.

“I messed up and Y/N hates me!” Steve groans, ferociously spreading peanut butter on bread. Robin works on the jelly sides as they prepare meals for the hungry of Hawkins.

“It’s not your fault that you forgot the date!” Robin says. She drops her voice to a whisper and adds, “We were tortured. You were concussed.”

“But I didn’t even call,” Steve says. He slaps two slices of bread together harshly, angry at himself. “After I saw them looking so upset in town, I should’ve called to check in. To clear the air. If I had, maybe I would’ve realized what happened and could’ve fixed it.”

“You can think about ‘what ifs’ all day,” Robin says. “Or you can try to make things right.”

“I can’t,” Steve says. “They won’t even look at me anymore. I don’t blame them.”

“I don’t get why they’d hold such a grudge,” Robin wonders, neatly packing their newest sandwich into a brown paper bag. “I mean, you missed one date. It’s not like you slept with them and ditched them. Unless…”

Robin narrows her eyes at Steve. Ashamed, he doesn’t look up from sandwich making.

Robin scowls and smacks his shoulder.

“Ouch! Robin!”

“You are the horniest dingus this side of the Mississippi,” Robin says. “Of course they’re so angry! They think you used them for sex! Technically you did, since you never followed up.”

“What happened to the ‘it’s not my fault’ shit!”

“It’s not! But the unfortunate truth is that you look like a total ass. You need to apologize.”

Steve does. He’s fully vulnerable and partially honest, and spins a tale about how a new medication with unfun side effects, such as brain fog, is why he completely forgot the date.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” Steve says, after he’s finished. He’s tempted to ask if you’d be willing to try again, but he resists.

You study him, eyes scanning his face for any indication he’s bullshitting you. You don’t look angry, but you don’t look very forgiving either.

“It’s fine,” you say, after what feels like a millennia. Steve relaxes when you give him a small smile. “Let’s just move on. Hand me those sweatshirts?”

And so you two continue to work together, nothing more than acquaintances at best.

August, 1986

Steve almost dies in the final fight with Vecna.

The battle causes more earthquakes that leave many in town dead or wounded. Eleven is finally able to kill Vecna and destroy the Upside Down once and for all—but not before Steve is severely wounded by Vecna’s army of demodogs.

He doesn’t remember much after the attack. He thinks he remembers Robin and Dustin crying. Someone—Hopper? Jonathan, maybe?—carrying him out of the Upside Down. The paramedics asking him his name, the year, the president, to count backwards from 10.

Then, it’s all a bit fuzzy, until he wakes up a few days later. He’s got a lot more scars than he did, but he’s alive and Vecna is gone, so that’s something.

He doesn’t expect to see you in his hospital room when he comes to.

“Y/N?” he croaks.

You whip around, eyes wide as if you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Except you aren’t doing anything wrong—you’re adding a stuffed bear to the collection of Get Well Soon gifts on the windowsill.

“Oh, shit,” you say. “Let me get your doctors.”

When you disappear into the hall, he gets a better look at the teddy bear you’ve brought. It’s pink, with a strawberry-shaped nose. The mylar balloon tied to its paw says: Get Well Bear-y Soon! Steve’s heart swells at the realization that you remember his favorite flavor, that you went to the trouble to buy him a gift. He’s not sure he deserves it.

He assumes you’ll come back in, but instead, a swarm of doctors and nurses encroach. Then, it’s Dustin and Robin and Nancy and Jonathan visiting him. Then, Hopper and Joyce and the other kids.

By the end of the day, he’s exhausted from visitors, but he still wants to see you once more.

He does, three days later.

He returns to his hospital room after physical therapy—the demodogs did a number on his shoulder. You’re there again, adding a Feel Better card to his stash. You startle when he walks in.

“Hi!” you say, a bit louder than intended. You clear your throat. “Sorry. I don’t want to disturb you, I’ll just go—”

“You’re not disturbing me,” Steve says. “I could actually really use the company.”

That’s a lie. Robin’s been in his room so much the nurses think she’s his sister. But you don’t have to know that.

You relax and nod.

“Sure, yeah, I can stay for a few minutes.”

Steve sinks onto his hospital bed and you sit in an uncomfortable-looking, plasticky armchair.

Silence stretches between you two. It’s not tense, but it’s charged with something.

The two of you start speaking at the same time.

“Sorry,” you say. “I just—I hope it’s not weird that I’m here.”

“What? No, not weird at all,” Steve says. “We’re friends.”

And that’s true. The past four months, the two of you have become much closer. Still fully platonic, but on the cusp of something more.

“Robin told me that you got hurt in the big quake,” you say, clueless to the true nature of the disasters. “She said—um, she said you almost didn’t—almost didn’t make it. And that made me feel horrible, because I really like you…r friendship. And I couldn’t imagine losing that. So I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

You hesitate before covering his hand with yours. His hands are calloused and warm. Yours are icy cold. Steve represses a shiver at your touch.

“Thank you for coming,” Steve says. You squeeze his hand and his breath stutters. He recovers just enough to say, “And thank you for the bear. He rocks.”

“You like him?” you say, glancing over at the fluffy teddy on the windowsill. “You should name him Enzo. In honor of the strawberry cheesecake.”

“I was actually thinking of naming him Beartholomew,” Steve says. “Beary, for short.”

“That’s perfect. Or Beart, like Bart?”

He chuckles. The sound of it triggers an incomparable feeling in your chest.

“I like that. Beart Harrington.”

The two of you smile at each other. It feels warm and easy, same as your flirtationship the summer prior.

Your eyes flick to his lips. Is it weird to ask someone on a date in a hospital? you think.

Before you can turn on the charm and see if Steve wants to join you for a cup of Jell-O in the cafeteria, the door swings open and his friends Dustin, Robin, and Erica rush in.

You drop his hand on instinct. Steve misses the feeling of your touch.

“Steve, Max is about to be discharged and she asked—oh, hey Y/N!” Robin says. “Sorry, are we interrupting—”

“I was just leaving,” you say, standing. “I have to head to the soup kitchen. Then I’m back to the high school for more donation work. But I’ll see you around, okay?”

Steve wants to ask you to skip your shifts and stay. But the request dies on his throat. Instead, he just nods and says, “See you around.”

You give a polite nod and smile to his friends before leaving.

“Is that them?” Erica asks once you’re out of earshot. “The one you’re totally crushing on, like a weirdo stalker?”

“He’s not a stalker!” Dustin says. “He’s pursuing his Suzie.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“They’re not my Suzie,” Steve says, “as much as I want them to be. That ship sailed, ages ago.”

October, 1986

When things in Hawkins are a little better, you’re able to start your second year at Roane County Community College.

Steve and Robin enroll as well, and share an apartment off-campus. For Halloween, they invite you and half the student body to a rager.

You don’t want to go at first. Mainly because you’re afraid alcohol will spur you to do something stupid, like tell Steve that you want him.

You’re not sure why you do. You gave him the benefit of the doubt but still don’t fully believe his story about why he missed your date, and wonder if his recent kindness and friendship is a trap to lure you in and break your heart once more.

But that seems too cruel for him. He’s not like that, you’ve learned in your six months of new friendship.

Plus, he almost died over the summer, and while that kind of thing would’ve made you bitter and angry and terrified of the world, Steve doesn’t let it weigh him down. He’s still kind and empathetic, still loyal and bright.

Fuck, you want him so bad. As a friend? No: as a boyfriend, as a lover, as everything all the time.

You stand in the corner of his and Robin’s living room, nursing a hard lemonade and avoiding eye contact with the object of your affection (currently dressed as Marty McFly).

Marty McSteve dances his way over during “Monster Mash.” You laugh at his chaotic display, trying to mentally murder the butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey!” Steve says. He adjusts his orange vest. “Wanna dance?”

Friends dance with friends…right?

“I’d love to,” you say with a smile.

The two of you drink, dance, and drink some more. At some point, you and Robin do shots. After that, you stop resisting the urge to throw yourself at Steve. You boldly go up to him and ask, “Hey, you never showed me your new room. Give me a tour?”

The excuse is shoddy but works its magic. Two minutes later, you’re making out with Steve in his room, pulsing beat of the music reverberating through the thin apartment walls.

His kisses are hot and heady, his hands wander your frame and make your skin burn.

“I’ve wanted to do this again,” Steve murmurs between kisses. “For so long.”

“Me too,” you say, breathless, pulling him even closer to you. The two of you drunkenly stumble around until he pushes you onto his bed.

He kisses your neck, and it feels so amazing, you want to live in this moment forever. But then you glance around his room and see Beart Harrington on his dresser shelf, and you’re taken back to that night at Enzo’s, eating strawberry cheesecake and waiting alone.

You don’t think he would do that again. But the tiny part of you that’s unsure panics.

“Steve,” you stutter out.

Unaware of your inner turmoil, he moans your name and continues kissing your neck. One hand grips your waist, the other roams higher up your thigh.

“Steve. Stop.”

At that, he immediately pulls away and off you, concern clouding his features.

“Is everything okay?” he asks. His voice is so tender, you melt a bit.

You’re not sober enough to properly articulate your feelings. To tell him that you like him so much and getting heartbroken by him again would destroy you.

So you simply sit up and say: “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“That’s totally fine,” he says. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You don’t respond, just stare at your lap. Steve adds, “Do you need anything? Water, or something to eat?”

You flounder, stammering something about how you don’t feel well and want to go home.

Steve nods. If he’s disappointed or upset, he doesn’t show it. “I can walk you home if—”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt. “I’m sorry, again.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Steve says gently. “Seriously, it’s all good.”

You mumble out a goodbye and practically sprint away, leaving Steve alone on his bed.

“I don’t understand,” he says as he and Robin clean up beer cups after the party has ended. “They ran away so fast. Did I do something wrong?”

“People are allowed to change their minds about sex, you know,” Robin says. She tosses an empty cup at Steve. He fumbles and catches it.

“I know! And that’s okay. But if I made them upset, I want to know why. Rob, I like them so much. I don’t know if I can just be their friend anymore. I want more. And sometimes it seems like they do too, but right before we cross that line, they push me away.”

“This is a conversation you need to have with them, not me,” Robin says. She pulls a pillow off the ground and groans. “Great. Molly puked on the carpet. Hand me a sponge.”

🍓🍓🍓

Steve calls you the next day to check on you.

“I’m okay,” you say, fingers twisting in the phone cord. “Just tired.”

That’s not necessarily a lie. But you’re speaking in mistruths by not openly telling Steve how you feel. How you want him but are so terrified of what will happen. What is this effect he has on you?

“That’s good,” Steve says. You can tell he’s nervous by the way his voice cracks. You can practically see him run a hand through his hair over the phone—an anxious habit he can’t seem to break. “Listen, I’m really sorry if I made you upset yesterday when we were about to…you know. I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” you rush to reassure him. “It’s not you…”

You cut yourself off before adding the dreaded it’s me. Instead, you say, “I wanted to do it, but I just panicked.” You suck in a breath. “The truth is, I really, really like you Steve. A lot. Like, I like you way more than a friend should.”

Steve stops breathing for a moment.

“You do?” he asks.

“Yeah. And that terrifies me.”

“What?” Steve says, holding the phone closer to his ear. “I terrify you?”

You laugh, despite the tension you’re feeling.

“No,” you say. “You’re a gem, Steve Harrington. But the thought of getting heartbroken by you again…that’s what scares me.” You drop your voice to a near whisper. “I think it would ruin me.”

Steve gulps. You had been forgiving about the Enzo’s thing when he cleared the air, and the two of you have become such good friends since then. Guilt gnaws at his insides when he realizes how much being stood up affected you.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N,” he says, after a beat. “I didn’t realize—I mean, I knew what I did hurt you, but I didn’t know—”

“It’s fine, just forget about it—”

“No!” Steve says urgently. “Please. I like you too. I want to make it up to you. To take you out on a real date.”

You pause, chewing your lip and pondering the idea.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you say cautiously.

“Please. Just trust me.”

Trust. You trusted Steve last summer, and look where that got you.

But you don’t want to be afraid of falling in love with him. Not anymore. So you agree to go on a date with him, hoping for the best.

🍓🍓🍓

Steve doesn’t give you any indication what the date will be. He just tells you to be ready at 7 p.m. sharp.

As the clock ticks closer to 7, you feel your anxiety spike. You’ve convinced yourself he’s not coming, that you’re being stood up again, until—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You stand from the couch so fast you make yourself dizzy.

When you open the front door, Steve is waiting. However, he’s not alone.

“Oh!” you say, recognizing Steve’s friend Dustin from some volunteering shifts. “Uh, hey, guys. What—”

“Good morrow!” Dustin booms in a theatrical voice. Steve sighs and shakes his head.

“Henderson,” Steve hisses. “I told you: no Shakespeare shit!”

He turns to you and beams.

“Hey, you look great!” he says. Steve holds up a bouquet of forget-me-nots, your favorite flower. The irony is not lost on you. “This is for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say, taking it. “You do too. Uh, and Dustin! Nice hat.”

The hat in question is some sort of computer joke, with lots of 1s and 0s. You don’t understand it. But Dustin preens at your praise.

“Thanks, Y/N!” he says. “Now, are you ready for the date of your life?”

“I’m supposed to be the one to say that,” Steve says. “Henderson, just go wait in the car. In the back seat! BACK. SEAT.”

Dustin clambers into the back of Steve’s BMW.

“Steve,” you say, “did you invite me on a babysitting date?”

“I promise I didn’t,” Steve says. “But I did ask my friends for some assistance. You’ll see. Now, what did Henderson say—are you ready for the date of your life?”

He holds out a hand. You hesitate, but take it and smile.

“I think I am. Rock my world, Steve Harrington.”

He drives you (and Dustin) across town to the nature reserve. Dustin exits the car before Steve’s even fully parked, sprinting ahead into the forest.

“Are we supposed to follow him?” you ask.

“He’s going ahead to set some things up. We’ll follow, just much slower.”

Steve holds out an arm. You link yours in his, a bit flustered at the closeness.

“Sorry if this is weird,” Steve says as the two of you leisurely walk on the reserve’s wooded trails. “I know it’s not your typical dinner date, but we tried that, and I fucked it up.”

“It’s really fine, Steve,” you say. “You were on that medication that made you forget.”

Steve bristles at the reminder of his shitty lie. He wishes he could tell you what really happened. Maybe one day.

“It’s not fine,” Steve says quietly. “I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I want to do. So I hope this will make it up to you.”

You make it to a clearing and you gasp. A picnic table has been decorated with flower petals. Twinkly lights are strung on the tree branches and bushes, and around the nearby park ranger station.

Local rock band Corroded Coffin stands at the edge of the clearing, tuning their instruments. Robin, the new lead singer after Eddie’s passing, notices the two of you enter.

“The lovers are here!” Robin says. “Let’s go, boys! 1, 2, and a 1, 2, 3, 4!”

You’re expecting a heavy metal song, and are pleasantly surprised as they start to perform “Crimson and Clover.”

“Do you like it?” Steve asks. He’s wringing his hands together and looking at you expectantly as you survey the picnic.

“It’s amazing,” you say, eyes shining.

Dustin appears from the ranger’s station with his friend Lucas. They’re in matching bow ties.

“Welcome to Chez Hawkins,” Lucas says. “Table for two?”

The boys lead you and Steve to the picnic table. Dustin hands you two hand drawn menus while Lucas pours red wine into two plastic red cups.

“These are lovely,” you say, fingers lightly tracing over doodles on your menu. “Did you guys draw them?”

“Will Byers did,” Steve says. “He’s, like, an amazing artist.”

“May I recommend the house special: grilled cheese?” Dustin says.

“Mainly because that’s the only thing we know how to make,” Lucas adds sheepishly.

You and Steve “order” grilled cheese sandwiches and the boys disappear back into the ranger station. You can faintly hear them arguing with a third person about how much cheese is too much.

“This is really thoughtful,” you say, gesturing to the decorations and the live band and the wine. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“I wanted to,” Steve says with a shrug. “I want to show how much you mean to me.”

Your insides turn to jelly. No one has ever shown you this much care or attention before. And to think, you wasted two-thirds of a year hating Steve Harrington when you could’ve been having these kinds of lovely date nights all the time?

You push away your regrets about your grudge to enjoy the date. The grilled cheeses Lucas delivers are delicious and pair surprisingly well with the wine. You and Steve talk about everything and nothing, and you thoroughly enjoy the music and the company. Corroded Coffin plays all love songs for you two, except for one or two Metallica hits.

When it’s time for dessert, Lucas and Dustin return with their friend Max Mayfield. She parks her wheelchair next to the picnic table and plops a tupperware onto the table between you and Steve.

“Sorry for the lame presentation,” she says. “I hope you like them.”

Dustin pulls off the tupperware lid and waves “ta-da” jazz hands, revealing four red cupcakes. Each is adorned with pink frosting and heart-shaped sprinkles.

“Red velvet cupcakes with strawberry frosting!” he says. “A combination of your favorites.”

You stare at the cupcakes, jaw dropped. Steve panics when you don’t say anything. He clears his throat.

“Sorry,” he says. “I thought you said once that you liked red velvet, because your grandma always made it for you. You don’t have to eat it! I think I have half a granola bar in my car if—”

“I told you that last summer,” you interrupt.

“Huh?”

“The thing about red velvet cake,” you say. “I told you that last summer. Hell, that was one of the first things we talked about, because I asked if Scoops had a red velvet flavor. And you remembered that? One passing comment from last June?”

Steve swallows hard, nervous under your relentless gaze, and nods.

“Uh, yeah? Is that insanely creepy of me?”

“Kids,” you say, not breaking your gaze from Steve’s adorably flushed face. “Close your eyes.”

Dustin, Lucas, and Max voice their confusion, until you lean across the picnic table, pull Steve up by the collar of his windbreaker, and kiss him fiercely. When the kiss registers, Steve wraps an arm around your waist.

The two of you look ridiculous, each half-sitting, half-standing on your sides of the table. Max snatches the tupperware onto her lap just as you pull a little too hard and Steve falls onto the tabletop. He winces and rubs his elbow, and you apologize profusely—but can’t stop smiling.

“Disgusting,” Lucas says, shaking his head. “You two couldn’t even wait until we were gone.”

“Eat these before you make out,” Max says. “They took all day.”

The trio of teens mumble about “gross adults” before retreating to the ranger station. You join Steve on his side of the table, not wanting to be even two feet apart.

“This is the perfect dessert,” you say, “and this is a perfect date. Thank you, Steve.”

“Of course,” Steve says. “I hope it makes up for last year. I still feel so bad about it—”

You place a hand on top of Steve’s.

“You don’t have to be sorry anymore,” you say softly. “It’s all right, Steve. I fully and wholly forgive you. The past is the past.”

“You’re not just saying that because I gave you wine and cupcakes?”

“Nope. But I like wine and cupcakes, so you should do that again sometime.”

“I think I can swing that.”

He takes a bite of his second cupcake just as you whisper something about a different kind of dessert you want to give him, if he wants to take you home. He almost chokes on sprinkles, face as pink as the strawberry frosting, before he grabs your hand and pulls you down the trail. You giggle as he calls over his shoulder, “Robin! Stay with Vickie tonight!”

“Harrington! You paid us to play!” Gareth, the drummer, shouts after you two. “Not clean up!”

“Oh, let them go,” Robin says. “They’re in love! Besides, we’ll make Dustin clean.”

You and Steve spend a perfect night together. As promised, he rocks your world.

🍓🍓🍓

Your boyfriend Steve is forgetful.

He misses doctor’s appointments. He forgets to pick you up from work sometimes. He gets schedules mixed up, and, yes, sometimes he forgets date night.

But you’re a patient person, now that you know he doesn’t do it intentionally. You love him with your whole heart, and you know he feels the same. And you couldn’t ask for anything more.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #st fic: forget

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farfromharry · 2 years

Text

Beth [ 1 ] | Dad!Eddie Munson series

One, Beth

Word count - 3267

Warnings - language

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

June 1986

Eddie wanted nothing more than to leave Hawkins the second he graduated. He hated this town and the people in it more than anything. There was nothing for him here, especially not when he was as hated as he was around the place. But sometimes things don’t always go to plan, and things change. Unfortunately for someone like Eddie you just have to deal with it.

It was the first time he’d hooked up with someone, just some random girl that he thought used to go to Hawkins high back in the day the first time he was in senior year. It was on a whim during summer break, they were drunk and she wanted to keep it a secret. He was happy to do whatever, he just hadn’t wanted to leave highschool as a twenty year old virgin. That would really reinforce the title of ‘nerd’. Then of course, just his luck, a year later she was showing up at his trailer door, a baby girl in her arms that had Eddie’s big doe eyes.

He freaked completely. It wasn’t everyday the fact you had a kid was dropped on you like that in the middle of the night as you were supposed to be celebrating a successful senior year (third times the charm). She must have been there a minute or two to give him the most basic information possible as well as a diaper bag with basic supplies: she thought she could be a mother but she couldn’t, she’s a girl but no name yet, born April 1st 1986 and that was it before the baby was left in his arms and she was on her way. It was a shitty thing to do, possibly the shittiest, but he couldn’t even say anything because he still hadn’t gotten his head wrapped around the situation.

His first move was to set the sleeping baby down, not wanting to wake her as he openly freaked the fuck out over everything that was happening. When his uncle got home he was sure he could help him figure out what to do, but right now his best bet was probably someone that was good with kids and was friends with Eddie. And who better than the surrogate mother of six chaotic children.

After setting the baby girl down on the couch where he could be sure she wouldn’t fall, he walked the short distance to the phone in the living room and dialed the number of the Harrington household. It was late, so part of him expected Steve to not even pick up, but he was quietly begging under his breath into the receiver of the phone.

When he heard the line connect and a muttered hello, he didn’t wait a second. “Steve?” he said. He must have woken his friend, considering the time and his groggy voice as he spoke down the phone. The man on the other end probably would have hung up on him had it not been for the fear in his tone. “Steve, man, I need your help.”

This news wasn’t quite something he could tell him over the phone, he probably wouldn’t even believe him. So he made Steve drive all the way over to the trailer park at almost three in the morning to help him out with little to no explanation. The boy on the other end of the line had made a big deal about it, assuming his friend was being dramatic and asking if it could just wait until morning. When Eddie insisted it couldn't, only a tiny part of Steve believed he could be in some kind of trouble, and the majority of his brain still expected to be met with a sight that had been extremely exaggerated when he arrived at the trailer. Only for once in his friendship with the metalhead, it wasn’t.

The knock on the trailer door startled an already jumpy brunette, Eddie rising to his feet, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans. He kept the baby in his sight as he pulled open the door of the trailer, greeting Steve with a nervous smile. “This better be good, Munson, I swear to–” He stopped mid sentence as he caught sight of the child sleeping on the couch, a baby that was much too small to be anything more than a couple months old.

“Uh, Eddie,” he began. The other nodded, biting his nails nervously as he looked over at Steve. “Who’s baby is that?”

He hesitated for a second, still trying to wrap his head around everything. “Mine.” He heard Steve mutter a quiet ‘yours’ under his breath in disbelief, the man running his hands through his messy hair. Steve didn’t even know what he was supposed to ask in a situation like this, he had never been or expected to be in a situation like this, it was crazy. Of all the people in the world that he knew, Eddie was probably the last one he ever expected to be a dad right now.

“Okay, well um. What exactly do you want me to do?” he asked. He didn’t know why he’d been called over here, Eddie hadn’t explicitly told him he needed his help or asked for his advice or anything like that. He could’ve called any one of his friends, so why Steve?

He tore his eyes away from the baby he was watching to look at the Harrington boy again, almost like what he needed him for was painfully obvious and he should’ve got the gist by now. “I have no idea how to look after a baby, Steve. You basically have six kids already.”

He scoffed. “Teenagers! They’re fourteen, not newborns.” The sound of his voice had grown loud, so loud that Eddie shushed him out of the fear of his daughter waking up. There was already a sense of protectiveness fueling Eddie when it came to the baby, he was ready to hit his friend and put him in his place if he woke her up. The two paused everything they were doing, letting the trailer fall into a silence to make sure she was still sleeping.

It was like that for a few minutes before Eddie spoke up again. “I bet you still know how to take care of a kid better than me. I don’t know what you do with them or how to make them not hate you.”

“She won’t hate you. Plus, it’s probably not that hard to take care of a baby right? Loads of people do it.” Both boys would a thousand percent come to regret those words when they were hit with the realization of how hard it actually was to take care of a baby. When you’re two clueless young adults who have no idea what a baby wants when they cry, it’s pretty damn hard.

A sound from the direction of the couch caught their attention, it was only small, the first one the girl had made since she arrived, and even from his lack of knowledge with kids he knew that was a sign she was waking up from her nap. Watching over her while she was sleeping was one thing, but when she was awake? He began to panic. “What the hell do I do?” he asked, biting at his nails again as he stared down at the baby who was now wriggling and eyes were beginning to flutter open. There was a small cry at the back of her throat that had Eddie freezing in his place. “Oh my god, oh my god she’s crying. I don’t know how to soothe a crying baby.”

As the baby girl began to wail he only became more and more distressed, turning to Steve with a look of helplessness. “Help me, Harrington,” he basically demanded.

He jumped into action, carefully scooping the baby up from the couch and then heading towards his friend. He told Eddie to hold out his arms and the boy helped to position the girl in his arms like he thought a baby was supposed to be held. Steve added an emphasis on supporting the head, making sure he knew that fact at the very least. Once she was comfortable in his grasp he began to bounce her, a natural thing he felt could help as quiet shushes fell past his lips.

After the crying died down Eddie got the first opportunity to look at her while she was awake. Before now all she had done was sleep, but now she was watching him like he was watching her, her tiny hand was wrapped around his thumb, and he could see the amazement in her eyes as she looked at her dad.

“You know, she’s actually really cute,” he said, tracing his thumb over her cheek. The way she stared up at him so innocently made his heart throb, he’d known her mere hours but he didn’t think he would have ever experienced this kind of love with a human being. He never knew it was possible to love so much. He now knew what parents meant when they said you would never know what it was like to love a child until you had your own.

Steve thought the sight was adorable. Eddie was usually energetic, sarcastic and rather dramatic , he had never seen him quite so tame or doing something so big where he wasn't freaking out entirely. Despite the few slip ups he had, he seemed to be taking this news in his stride pretty well.

“She obviously doesn’t look like you then,” he teased. He was only joking, he’d seen the girl and she was already a spitting image of her father, and she truly was beautiful, but he wasn’t going to lay off Eddie just cause he was having a stressful day. Their friendship was built on this kind of teasing. Feeling wrong cursing around the baby, Eddie simply removed the hand that had been on her back and flipped Steve off. Simple but effective he thought.

“Does she have a name?” he asked.

His eyes flickered up to Steve’s figure and then back down to the baby, his head shaking. “No, uh, I need to decide on one.” He hadn’t thought much on it until now, but he was quickly realizing he was going to have to make an incredibly important decision. This was one that would stick with this girl for the rest of her life, it had to be perfect.

“Can I suggest Stevie maybe.” The grin on his face was unmatched as Eddie looked at him completely unamused.

“I’m not naming my child after you, Steve,” he deadpanned.

He raised his hands in his own defense. “I was actually thinking of Stevie Nicks, but if it makes you think of me I think that’s your problem.” If he wasn’t holding a child he absolutely would have thrown something at his friend, but a stern glare was going to have to do for now.

There was a pregnant pause before Eddie spoke up with an idea that had been lingering in the back of his head. He wanted to name the girl something with meaning to him, and what better than the first song he ever learned to play on guitar. It was only days after he’d gotten his guitar as a christmas present from his uncle that he started dedicating his last few days of winter break to learning one of the songs that had quickly become his favorites since its release. “What about Beth?” he suggested, wanting to hear Steve’s opinion on it. “You know, like the KISS song, ‘76.”

“No, I don’t know.” Eddie looked taken back when those words left his friend’s mouth. He often forgot not everyone was a fan of the same music as he was, though that was absolutely preposterous considering it was the best music in the world. He narrowed his eyes at the Harrington kid, cocking his head still in a little bit of disbelief. “Y’know like, Oh Beth, what can I do? Beth, what can I do?,” he sang, hoping the familiar lyrics would refresh his memory. Unfortunately, he just stared blankly at Eddie like he was an alien or something speaking a language that wasn’t inhabited by Earth.

He was still shocked but that only intrigued him into what his music taste was actually like if he wasn’t familiar with KISS. “What music do you listen to, Harrington?” he questioned, a small smirk playing on his lips as he anticipated his answer.

“You know, like, Wham and Blondie and stuff,” he muttered. He could already sense the judgment for his music taste radiating off of Eddie. The laugh the man let out was so loud that Steve was surprised it didn’t make the little girl cry again, instead she just giggled at the sound herself. It briefly caught her dad’s attention and he liked to believe she was laughing at his friend too.

“Wham?” he checked, amusement swimming in his eyes. “Blondie I can understand, Debbie Harry’s hot, dude, but Wham, really?”

“They have good music,” he defended.

The pair were so caught up in their heated debate about music that they hadn’t noticed the sound of the door unlocking as Wayne made his way home after his shift. All he had wanted to do was come home and go straight to sleep, exhausted after the long day he’d had. But that stopped being a possibility the second he stepped inside to find not only his nephew but his nephew’s friend and an unknown baby in his arms. It was never a sight he thought he’d come home to, but well, there was a first time for everything.

“Eddie, why are you holding a baby?” His eyes widened as they locked with those of his uncle’s standing in the doorway of their home. Steve looked noticeably awkward as he looked between the two Munson men, preparing to make his escape the second Eddie okayed it. If this was his parents this would have turned into a full on screaming match, and he didn’t really know what the boy’s uncle was like, so he didn’t want to stick around and witness this explanation go down.

The curly haired man laughed dryly, trying to think of a way to explain this to his guardian without giving the man a heart attack. “Well, uh, that’s a long story. But this is Beth.”

After Steve left he sat his uncle down and told him the whole thing. Told him about the on a whim hookup in as little detail as possible, told him he didn’t know and he’d found out when she got dropped off only a few short hours ago.

It was a lot for Wayne to take in, he all of a sudden had a great niece to provide for as well as his nephew. The trailer they lived in was only small and definitely not a safe place for a baby to live, nor was there really room for a third member to live. “W-What are you gonna do?”

His brows furrowed, he thought there was only one option. “What do you mean?”

“Adoption is always an option, kid.” Wayne felt bad even suggesting it considering all Eddie had been through with his own parents. His mom left when he was still young, only seven years old, claiming she didn’t want to be a mother, it wasn’t like the woman had a single ounce of maternal love in her anyway. Wayne had never liked her from the minute his brother married her. Who, speaking of, was more complicated than that.

After Judy left, Eddie’s dad moved in with his brother. The space was cramped and Eddie was always confused, but the man certainly couldn’t raise a seven year old by himself. As far as shitty dads go, he was way up there. Despite his dad in the picture Wayne basically did everything for him, he’d take him to school, make sure he was clothed and fed, they’d hang out together. Eddie never had many friends as a kid so his uncle was basically his best friend. So when his dad went to prison, not much changed in their dynamic.

He was officially the boy's legal garden from the age of him being thirteen and he had been taking care of him ever since, though he knew how affected his nephew was by the fact he’d lost two parents. They weren’t dead, but they could’ve been and it wouldn’t have made a difference. He didn’t talk about them much, but that was only because of the pain they’d left him with. And Wayne knew, even if he was only putting it out there as an option, Eddie would reject it straight away.

He saw the way his face fell, his arms bringing the little girl closer to his body like he was shielding her. “No, absolutely not. I know what it feels like to be abandoned, I’m not doing that to her.” He knew he’d get defensive, but he had also been dealing with Eddie’s little tantrums since he was seven, he wasn’t really phased anymore.

“I was just putting it out there. Being a parent is hard and I want you to know what all of your options are.” Eddie understood, though he still wasn’t happy about it, but he wasn’t letting this baby girl go for anything. He would give her anything she ever wanted because Lord knows he didn’t know what that was like as a child, other than it fucking sucked to be unwanted.

“Well, don’t you want to be a grandpa?” he asked. Wayne had never had kids of his own, it hadn’t been something he’d ever been interested in until Eddie was placed in his care, and now he loved the boy like his own. But the concept of being a grandpa had been one he never thought would have been possible. However, technically it still wasn’t.

He shook his head. “Ed, ‘M not her grandpa, that’s not how it works.”

The younger of the two scoffed, standing up from where he was sitting with the girl still securely in his arms. Even if he hadn’t wanted to hold her, Eddie was basically forcing him to. She seemed content in his arms, even if he didn’t know exactly how to hold a baby. The only baby he’d ever held has been his nephew when he watched over him when he was young. But he couldn’t deny the warmth that spread in his heart when he looked at her little face, she looked so much like his boy.

“You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a dad— You pretty much are my dad. Of course you’re her grandpa.” Even if he was confident in that matter, he was shy to admit out loud to the man. He disliked how vulnerable it made him.

Wayne felt a little teary at the confession he was hearing. He knew how much he loved the boy, but he had never considered just how much that love was reciprocated. Truth was, Eddie owed his entire life to his uncle, he’d raised him and kept him alive for the last thirteen years (but still pretty much his whole life), there was no one who had ever shown him as much love as Wayne, if he was going to want anyone to help him care for his child, it’d be this man. “You hear that Beth,” he cooed down at her. “‘M your grandpa.”

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

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#eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things 4 #dad!eddie #dad!eddie munson

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 1

Hello, my beautiful readers! I should be working on “If I Rescue You, Will You Rescue Me, Too?” and that was the intent yesterday I swear. But I wanted to sit down and flesh out the first part of my “Eddie and Steve reconnect after years apart because their kids are in a rock band together AU”. Only I went from 680 words to 6020 words over the course of the day.

So um...yeah. I’m still working on “Rescue” but since I have so much of this ready, you’re going to get this for the next couple of days.

Just a couple of things, you can find the original idea for this on my Master List, but I don’t recommend reading it before this, because it makes the story a little less fun. The other thing is that in case it wasn’t clear enough the first part are all newspaper headlines.

Enjoy!

***

Corroded Coffin Signs Three Record Deal with Relapse Records: American Tour to Start Soon

-July 15th, 1986

Business Moguls Clint and Rebecca Harrington Announce the Engagement of Their Only Son Steven to Socialite Addison Reed

-June 1st, 1987

Corroded Coffin to Launch First World Tour After Huge Success of Their First Album Underdark in December

-Sept. 23rd, 1987

Steven Harrington’s Nuptials to Addison Reed to Take Place in New York on Jan. 1st 1988

-Sept. 24th, 1987

Steven and Addison Harrington Announce the Upcoming Birth of Their First Child

-Feb. 23rd, 1988

Has Corroded Coffin Frontman Eddie Munson Found Love in London? Metal Star Eddie Munson Seen About Town with British Actor Jay Sanchez

-March 29th, 1988

Steven Harrington, Son of Business Mogul, Clint Harrington to Start Tech Company with Genius High Schooler, Dustin Henderson; Says Focus Will Be On Audio Devices

-May 9th, 1988

Tragedy Strikes in Austria! The Tour Bus Carrying the band Corroded Coffin Rolled Over Late Friday Night. Most of the Band Only Sustained Minor Injuries, but Bassist, Brian Martin was Thrown From the Bus and it Rolled on Top of Him, Killing Him Instantly

-Sept 11th, 1988

Funeral For Corroded Coffin Bassist, Brian Martin Was Held Yesterday in Their Hometown of Hawkins, IN. Frontman Eddie Munson Was Surrounded By Friends and Family

Picture: Eddie at grave site, clinging to boyfriend, Jay Sanchez. Wayne stands on his other side. The other two Corroded Coffin members stand behind them. The entire Party is there. Jonathan and Argyle, too. All but Steve.

-Sept 17th, 1988

Steven and Addison Harrington Announce the Birth of Their Daughter, Edith Barbara Harrington

-Sept 23rd, 1988

Eddie Munson and Partner Jay Sanchez Announce They Will Have a Child Together Through Surrogacy: Right Wing Groups Up in Arms!

- Nov 8th, 1988

S&D, the Tech Company Launched by Steven Harrington and Dustin Henderson Last Year Has Hit a Snag. Henderson Says the Technology is There, Investors Not Convinced

-March 19th, 1989

Steven Harrington and Wife Addison Battle It Out in Court, The Former Socialite Claims All Their Money Should Be Split Evenly, Including the Trust Fund Steve Received From Grandparents Upon Their Marriage; Judge Disagrees

-May 30th, 1989

Eddie Munson Back in the Studio. Producing This Time. Former Lead Singer and Frontman for Corroded Coffin is Back at It Producing What is Being Heralded as Metal’s Next Great Album...

-June 13th, 1989

Divorce Final! Steven Harrington and Addison Reed Split! Harrington Gets it All, Including Custody of Nine Month Old Daughter, Edith

-June 30th, 1989

Eddie Munson and Partner Jay Sanchez Announce Birth of their Son, Born Though Surrogacy; Mother and Son’s Name Has Been Withheld for Privacy Reasons

-July 14th, 1989

Tech Company S&D Reached Record Profits This Year; CEO Steve Harrington’s Ex Wife Back in Court for Bigger Cut of the Pie

-Sept. 7th, 1992

Eddie Munson, Beast of the Metal Scene Back in the Studio Again as Metal Bands Clamor to Have His Name on Their Record

-Jan. 19th, 1994

S&D CEO Comes Out as HOH (Hard of Hearing) and Bisexual in the Same Press Conference, Signing and Speaking His Speech

-Aug. 13th, 1995

Jay Sanchez, British Actor and Partner to Eddie Munson, Famed Metal Producer Has Passed Away Over the Weekend Due to Cancer. Family Asks the Public to Respect Their Wishes and Allow Them Their Privacy as They Grieve

-Oct 25th, 1999

Funeral For British Actor, Jay Sanchez Held in His Native Hampshire. Fans Flock to Mourn His Loss

-Oct 31st, 1999

Audio Tech Giant S&D Announced a Line of Headphones That Can Block Out Most Noises

Nov. 22nd, 2003

Grammy Award Winning Producer, Eddie Munson to Retire Amid Rumors of Troubled Son in Legal Woes

-March 27th, 2006

Steve was a man of few regrets in his life. He had a job he enjoyed, a daughter he loved more than life, and close friends he could count on. One of his biggest regrets, though? Losing track of Eddie after Corroded Coffin’s bassist Brian Martin died in a tour bus rollover in Europe on their first world tour.

He knew that Robin and Dustin and probably some of the rest of the Party still kept in contact with Eddie, but after Steve was forced to miss Brian’s funeral...he wasn’t sure Eddie wanted him to contact him. So despite Dustin’s greatest efforts their lives remained separate.

“Hey, Dad!” Edith called from the kitchen.

Steve sighed into the bedroom mirror. He patted his hair down to hide the hearing aid. “Coming!”

He trotted out, grabbing his keys and wallet as he did so. His daughter was sitting at the counter happily munching on her cereal. Steve grinned when he saw her. She looked nothing like her mother, a fact Addison loathed. Edith had brown eyes and light brown hair with freckles, just like Steve.

“We finally have a new guitarist,” she said happily when she saw him. “But because we can’t have it at Lauren’s anymore...”

Steve sighed. “You want to use my garage as your studio?”

Edith grinned. “Pleaseee...”

Steve closed his eyes and opened them slowly to see her giving him the biggest pair of puppy dog eyes.

“All right,” he said. She started squealing and jumping for joy. “Only one day a week and if I have a migraine...”

She sighed, “We’ll keep it down.”

Steve ruffled her hair.

“Ugh...” she moaned. “It’s a good thing I don’t spend hours on my hair like you otherwise, I’d be really upset.”

Steve laughed. “Uncle Dusty keeps telling me it’s a miracle it hasn’t all fallen out yet.”

Edith smiled softly at him, before reaching up and gently tucking a lock of hair behind his left ear. “You’re the face of S&D, Dad. It’s not a crime to show off the goods.”

He ducked his head and blushed. “I know I wouldn’t be where I am without it but it chafes, you know.”

“You’re the father a seventeen year old girl,” Edith said with a wink, “I think you’re allowed to have a hearing aid.”

Steve sighed, too. “It just makes me feel older than I am.”

Edith shrugged. “You’re already old, so what’s a few more years difference?”

Steve raised his eyebrow and she squealed as he lunged for her. He kept up swimming and had taken up running. Edith on the other hand? She loathed sports. She claimed on more than one occasion that if anyone saw her running, they best start running too, because there was something chasing her.

A joke that didn’t go well with her dad or any of his friends for some reason she wasn’t privy to.

So she was an easy catch and he tickled her.

“No!” Edith huffed. “I’m too old for tickles!”

Steve stopped and cocked his head at her. “I still tickle Aunt Robin so...invalid argument.” And went back to tickling her.

Once she was gasping for breath, Steve let her up. “Now, Miss Thing, it’s time to get you to school.”

“Ugh...” she said, going to grab her backpack. “I hate school. Why can’t I just drop out?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Because last time I checked, I didn’t raise a quitter. And you only have a couple months left of this year and all of next.”

“I hate being a September baby,” she huffed dramatically. “I’m older than most of my class.”

He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “You can blame your mom for that one.”

Edith smiled gratefully up at her dad. “It’s nice to have a scapegoat for all one’s ills in life.”

Steve laughed. “Thank god, for Addison Reed.”

Edith had to admit that there were certain parts of school that she enjoyed. She loved history and art. She didn’t know if she got that from her mom, as she had seen her mother all of three times in her memory. The first nine months of her life didn’t count.

Addison Reed had showed up when she was three when S&D had finally made it big and wanted more money from Dad. Again when she turned eight and Addison had taken her out for ice cream to try and charm Edith into giving up information on Dad so she could wheedle even more money out of him. The final time and the time that upset Dad the most was when Addison turned up when Edith was twelve to try and convince her to move in with her, so she could live off the child support.

That was when Dad got a restraining order against her, and moved them to Indiana from California. Edith missed the warm sunny days and the beaches, but she knew why Dad had done it. If moving back to Indiana was the only thing that would keep the leech away, Edith would have suggested it herself.

The other parts of school she liked were her friends. Mandy Lawrence and Kenny Grant. They had been a quartet, but Lauren decided she was too cool for them at the beginning of the year and stopped talking to them.

It was whatever.

She had art today which was a blessing because math was a killer and it always made her depressed. There was another reason she liked art class. Because that’s where she met this boy.

No, no not like that. Edith Barbara Harrington was a lesbian thank you very much. No, for all the kid’s fluffy brown hair, dimples and doe-eyes, she was interested in his ability to absolutely shred on guitar. His dad was some famous producer or some shit.

She walked up to him and fist bumped him. “H-man!”

“Miss Thing!” he greeted back. “Talked to my dad, but he said no go. He’s got too many valuable instruments he doesn’t want us touching.”

Edith grinned. “Well you’re in luck because my dad said yes.”

“Hell yeah!”

“So after school, k?” she said and he nodded. “I’ll text you the address.”

“Awesome!”

Their teacher called out for them to sit down and they did so with a grumble.

Edith couldn’t wait for after school.

***

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Epilogue

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#My writing #stranger things #steddie #reconnecting years later AU #ladykailtiha writes

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steddielicious · 6 months

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Okay, so I know I’ve been focusing on the peak bi experience in Hawkins, but I also wanna touch on Chrissy Cunningham.

Chrissy is five years old the first time a boy kisses her. They both find it hysterical and can’t stop giggling.

Her first real kiss with a boy is six years later, at Heather Holloway’s Valentine’s Day party. The anticipation nearly kills Chrissy, but in reality, it just feels…wet. Her first boyfriend lasts two weeks in grade eight; she doesn’t really see what the fuss is. All the other girls gush about butterflies in their stomachs, so she figures that Matthew wasn’t right for her. Maybe she’s not into redheads? But party games and awkward dates still don’t do it for her, so she spends ninth through eleventh grades focusing on her grades and cheerleading. She does kiss a boy here or there, but they’re sweaty-palmed high schoolers. Maybe the boys just haven’t learned how to kiss properly yet. At least that’s what she tells herself. Besides, whenever she thinks about any guy wrapping her in his arms, she cringes at the idea of them getting anywhere near her tummy before it’s properly flat. She’s working on that though.

And then Jason comes along. Jason, who understands how much she hates her body and never stops telling her how beautiful she is no matter what size she is. Jason, who tells her that God made her in His image and that He makes no mistakes. She’s still not sure if she believes in God, but she appreciates the sentiment. It’s Jason who stands up for Chrissy to her mother’s caustic comments at family dinners.

So even though she never gets butterflies when he kisses her, Chrissy loves Jason. Through senior year, she allows their physical relationship to progress and quickly learns to fake orgasms. After all, Jason deserves to believe in his prowess. And it’s not his fault that she can’t even get herself off. She’s just picky or there’s something wrong with her or she’s just too fat to feel comfortable in her body or - or - or…

In June 1986, Chrissy wakes up in a hospital bed to see strangely red clouds clearing to blue skies. She hears Eddie Munson, of all people, calling her name. She learns that she’s been in a coma for three months and Jason is dead and there is an alternate world below and that every single day since he joined the bed beside hers to recover from a monster bat attack, Eddie has been reading to her in an attempt to wake her.

She finds out later that along with the entire graduating class of 1986, she has been granted a diploma that universities accept as proof of graduation. She defers a year, along with Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley, because apparently this friendship is now a thing. One week after waking from a coma that a three minute death apparently triggered, she’s home with her dad, who wants to make things right. With her mother kicked out, her father is thrilled to let Chrissy do whatever she needs to recover. There is a trauma-heavy group of teens that she now claims membership to, who are all going through the same thing. June closes with her strawberry blonde head in Eddie’s lap, sharing a joint in the back of his van and arguing over the contents of the mix-tape they’re planning to make to encapsulate their friendship.

She feels safe with Eddie. It doesn’t matter that his ringed hand splays over her stomach. He doesn’t care that when she giggles too hard, it comes out as snorts. Loving Eddie means braiding each other's hair and painting each other’s nails. (She tries to sneak shimmery pink onto his toes and he Sharpies over her pastel nails while she sleeps.) It means falling asleep watching Singing in the Rain, Chrissy sprawled over his chest.

The first time they kiss, Eddie is sobbing himself awake out of a nightmare; Chrissy drops kisses all over his face, ending with a firm press against his lips in reassurance. And they love each other, so much, so of course they make it official. He takes her on cutesy dates to the diner and the movies. They spend the summer with legs entangled, but the clothes always stay on. They don’t take it any further than lazy makeouts and Chrissy feels like she should be offended that Eddie never gets hard against her; rather, she’s relieved that there’s no pressure to put on a performance of passion. Instead, they buy matching owl charms that Eddie adds to his guitar pick necklace and Chrissy strings alongside her locket.

She keeps trying to get herself off, but to no avail. And even though she shares everything with Eddie, she’s terrified that if she tells him this, he’ll want to help get her off. Because that’s the kind of guy he is, despite his attempt at an intimidating shell. So she doesn’t say a word. On the outside, they’re a picture-perfect couple and it’s not really all that far off. She loves Eddie more than she’s ever loved anyone else and she can tell he feels the same. They just don’t want to touch each other sexually. And it’s not like they don’t touch otherwise. They’re constantly kissing each other’s cheeks and foreheads and hands and shoulders. Their hands are always linked and shoulders always pressed together. She’s always in his lap with his arms around her, just as she loves to drape herself across his back and bury her face in his neck.

Chrissy knows Eddie has never had a girlfriend before, but when she asks him if he’s a virgin, he hesitates for what feels like forever before saying that he isn’t.

Summer ends and fall brings the return of tube socks and cashmere sweaters. Eddie loves to stroke her back as he reads The Mists of Avalon to her, snuggled together in the hammock strung up in the Munsons’ new backyard. As the cool afternoons fade into chillier evenings, Chrissy’s carefully wrapped in his leather jacket and she’s never felt so treasured, like she’s the most precious girl in Hawkins.

Before too long, Steve is hosting a small Halloween party for the young adults at his place. Argyle is in town and attending as some sort of vampire. Nancy and Jonathan are coupled up as partiers from the 1920s and though they insist they’re not a together, Steve and Robin are a firefighter and a cat that has recently been rescued. Steve pulls the whiskers off better than she would have expected. Chrissy and Eddie dress as Jareth and Sarah from their favourite movie of the summer, Labyrinth. They don’t have the wigs at all, but Eddie looks dashing in his waistcoat and she loves the silver jewellery she’s woven into her hair.

After a while, the trick or treaters dwindle and they’re all sporting mild buzzes or highs as they lounge across the furniture in Steve’s living room. Since his parents transferred ownership of the house over to him in the summer, Steve’s been filling the space with cozy blankets and pillows for everyone to snuggle into. Eddie has Chrissy slung across his lap in the papasan chair, and is teaching her how to blow smoke rings from their shared joint, when Argyle suggests Truth or Dare to get the night going. Even though they’re all adults and this feels like a game for preteens, they’re all intrigued by what will arise that will be too daring or private for a group of people who’ve been through literal hell together.

It starts off easy. Steve is dared to take a drink for how many people in the room he’s kissed, so he sips once, twice, and then pauses before taking a third sip. Chrissy giggles, remembering an awkward round of Seven Minutes in Heaven she shared with him in grade nine. Nancy is dared to suckle on Argyle’s toes and Eddie reveals that his first kiss was to Michelle Louie when he was twelve. When Jonathan is asked if he’s ever kissed a guy and answers in the affirmative, the game pauses as everyone demands to know more. As it turns out, Chrissy and Robin are the only ones in the room who’ve never kissed their own gender (and Robin hasn’t kissed anyone at all). So when the game resumes, it’s not long before a twinkling Eddie dares the two of them to kiss.

And maybe the weed is doing something to Chrissy’s tummy, but the anticipation is making it flutter. Robin is crimson and stutters about how she’s never kissed anyone and refuses to have her first kiss in front of a crowd. Steve, the grinning ass, suggests that they kiss in the kitchen, away from everyone’s eyes. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous, but takes a deep breath and pushes out of Eddie’s lap to head to the kitchen.

Robin follows, now looking ghostly against the crimson of her costume. Chrissy sees how terrified she is and reassures her. Without an audience, she’ll teach the other girl how to kiss. She figures that it’ll be easier if they’re a bit closer in height, so she hops on a counter and beckons Robin to stand between her spread legs. Besides, when Robin goes off to kiss boys, it’s pretty unlikely that they'll be shorter than her. It’s very evident that Robin has never done this before, her hands clenched at her sides. So Chrissy gently takes them and places them on her hips. (Robin’s hands burn through the layers of tulle in a way that Jason’s and Eddie’s never have.)

She tells Robin to close her eyes and leans in, heart pounding. Chrissy meets the resistance of Robin’s pursed lips and it’s so awkward but she still is tingling from head to toe. She takes a deep breath and guides Robin to slacken her lips and follow her lead as she goes back in for another kiss. It makes absolutely no sense. Chrissy can tell that Robin doesn’t know how to kiss (as quickly as she’s picking it up), but her stomach is on fire and she wants.

Chrissy pulls back and takes in Robin’s slick red lips and massive pupils, and feels the tightness of the fabric at her waist as Robin clings on. Somehow, her own hands have migrated to cradling Robin’s face. This can’t be the end, so she tells Robin about the next lesson. Hands. Hands can go on the waist or around the back or in the hair or touching the shoulders or-

Robin cuts her off by looping her arms completely around Chrissy and scooping her back in. Chrissy’s own fly around Robin’s neck and tug her into another kiss, this time at a better angle and hotter, messier. Her legs have encircled Robin’s waist and she’s burning inside. She wants and wants and she’s never felt anything like this before. She catches herself grinding against Robin and freezes, pulling back.

Maybe it’s time to head back to the rest of the party. She tells Robin that she’s clearly gotten the hang of kissing, as she hops off the counter and helps the other girl fix her lipstick.

I did that, Chrissy thinks giddily. Fuck.

The others are glued to Argyle and Eddie trying to high five with their eyes closed and don’t notice as Robin slips in to lay her head on Steve’s lap and Chrissy curls into a ball on the papasan. The game continues, but Chrissy’s mind is whirling.

Why did this feel better than any other time she’s been kissed? Is it the weed? Does Robin have magic lips? Is it a fluke? Is she…gay? Most importantly, does Robin want to kiss her again?

Eventually, the night dies down. Argyle passes out in the lounger and Jonathan and Nancy take the spare bedroom. Steve and Robin have claimed his bed, the redecorated master, while Eddie and Chrissy head to Steve’s old room, their usual haunt.

Her face tucked into Eddie’s chest, she barely hears his question. How was her first kiss with a girl? And she starts to shake, tears slipping down her face as she quietly sobs.

Hey, hey, hey, he comforts her, running his hands through her hair. She chokes as she gets it all out, terrified that Eddie is going to hate her. After all, what guy wants to hear that his girlfriend doesn’t actually like kissing guys? That she’s never been so turned on before Robin’s fumbling lips met hers? That she can’t stop thinking about the other girl’s freckles and if her breasts are covered in them as well?

Eddie presses a kiss to the crown of her head. And shares. As it turns out, the reason he had been so cagey about his lack of a virginity is that until Chrissy, Eddie has only hooked up with guys. He’d never even had a girl turn his head until she’d met him in the woods behind the school that fateful day. And as much as Eddie loved being against what society wanted him to be, he had a glimmer of hope that maybe he could be normal for once and make life a bit easier.

So when they got closer and closer and started dating, he figured that maybe he’d start to be attracted to her sexually. Maybe Eddie would want to do more than kiss her affectionately. But it’s been three months since they first kissed and nothing has stirred his loins and he’s been quietly panicking about having to break her heart.

They fall asleep wrapped around each other, salty tears gently kissed away from both faces.

In the light of the day, they ignore Saturday’s sleet by rolling over and hiding under the covers. Even though Steve and Chrissy usually go for runs every morning, they have a rule about post-party breakfasts. She and Eddie eventually make their way downstairs and act as though nothing has changed. They moan in Hangover and head out by noon. Eddie has an afternoon shift at the music store and Chrissy’s dad will be wanting to check in on her. But in that short drive home, they establish that they’re going to continue the farce, for both of their safety. Besides, they genuinely enjoy kissing each other, even though it’s apparently as a sign of their close friendship.

November is full of pretty girls. Pandora’s Box has been opened and Chrissy cannot stop noticing Robin’s freckles and Nancy’s eyes and the waitress’ delicate fingers and oh, the girl at the bakery has a smile that turns her stomach to goo. She thinks back to her kiss with Robin and imagines her legs wrapped the same way around the waist of the redhead who works at the bowling alley. She fantasizes about holding hands with a nameless girl and entangling their legs in a post-coital embrace. Not that she can imagine what that would even be like.

So for their four month anniversary, Eddie takes her to Indy overnight and presents her with a fake ID as a gift. There’s an unassuming queer bar that’s divey enough that Eddie fits in, but not so sketchy that Chrissy feels unsafe. A group of very kind and very pretty lesbians adopts her for the night and shows her exactly what sex can be. (Eddie takes some random guy back to their hotel room since she’s out for the night.) The next weekend, they head back to the same bar and a tall blonde with a long skirt fucks her in the bathroom. And the next, Chrissy buries her face between the legs of a brunette whose hair is shorter than even Jason’s was. The next weekend, the back of Eddie’s van finds her sandwiched between two solid hockey players visiting from Canada. (Chrissy sure knows how to get herself off now, thank god.)

She takes a break for Christmas, sharing a quiet dinner with her dad on the Eve and getting very drunk on eggnog at Steve’s We Survived Vecna Christmas bash.

(Of course, Steve and Robin had gone all out this year, draping the house in greenery and decorating a Charlie Brown tree with homemade ornaments. And part of this festivity was hanging mistletoe everywhere. Chrissy and Eddie had made a big show of a romantic kiss under the clump at the entrance to the kitchen. Then she started on the eggnog and kept getting caught. First, it was Will Byers’ cheek she pressed her lips against, then Argyle’s and Mr. Sinclair’s.

And maybe it was the rum and maybe it was her recent discovery of her homosexuality, but when she got caught with Mrs. Byers, who gave her a big drunken smooch on the cheek, Chrissy’s blood instantly relocated to her face. When she finally looked away, Eddie was watching from across the room with a wicked grin. Then Nancy had pecked her cheek and Robin had made a big show of giving her Italian-style kisses - left cheek-right cheek-left cheek and Chrissy had to pull Eddie into a side room to scream into his chest. Needless to say, she was very hungover the next day.)

By New Years Eve, Chrissy has spent half of the past year overturning everything she knew about herself and the world around her (or at least Hawkins). She has redefined what the truth is.

There’s a world below Hawkins, no longer under the power of Vecna.

Eddie Munson is her Platonic soulmate, with a capital P, as Steve and Robin say.

Dungeons and Dragons is not the devil’s work; rather, her mother is.

Her father does have the gumption to kick her mother out.

Chrissy does not need to mould herself into the right shape or size to make other people happy.

Some people are gay.

And that’s absolutely wonderful.

Because she, Chrissy Cunningham, is a lesbian.

Crossposted to AO3

#chrissy cunningham #lesbian chrissy cunningham #stranger things #steddielicious writes #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #buckingham #munsingham

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forever-fan · 7 months

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My FNAF Hyperfixation has inspired me!

So I've been reading a bunch of FNAF time travel fix-it fics. If you don't know what I am referring to, they are basically fics where Michael/William/Henry/basically anyone else finds themselves in the past by some circumstance. They then try to fix the future.

Now that you know what I'm talking about I can actually get to the point. I have decided to write a FNAF time travel fix-it fic. It is tied to an AU, so don't come at me about "canon". Here is a sneak peek at it.

Michael wished he died in the fire. Well, technically he was already dead. He had no pulse and he couldn't breathe. His brain had long since stopped working and he got his energy from Remnant rather than digesting food. In all reality, he was a stubborn spirit trapped within his own corpse.

Michael hadn't died in the fire that Henry had set. Hell, his body was barely harmed. All he remembered was passing out before waking up in a random alley. Michael realized someone saved him, but now he was even more alone than ever before.

When the Mega Pizzaplex opened on top of Michael's old restaurant, he knew there would be trouble. Sure enough, there was. Michael took a job as a security guard and found that, while they weren't murderous, the animatronics weren't quite right.

Michael also found his fellow guard, Vanessa, to be a little shifty. She turned out to be way more than shifty when she pushed him into the daycare ball pit from a height that would have maimed or killed anyone else.

Michael's afterlife only got worse when he emerged from the ball pit and found that he was back in Fredbear's Family Diner in 1980.

This short introduction obviously doesn't tell you all the fun little headcanons that I have for this fic. I guess you'll just have to read it to find out. Of course, I haven't written in yet. But! I am so hyped about the movie that I think I'll probably finish the first chapter before twenty-four hours have passed.

[Edit: My entire document on Microsoft Word deleted itself from reality... RIP. So... I'm rewriting the first chapter all over again. :> And trust me, I looked through all of my files and drives. Let it be known, I have turned on auto-save cause it sucks to rewrite dialogue, and know for a fact that it's not the same as it was. Also, I lost a doc with half of my headcanons for a different fnaf au. Sadness.]

Real quick, I do have only a little bit of important information for anyone who wants to understand the timeline. (Also so I can remember the basic timeline I made for myself.)

Original Timeline

1968 - Michael is born.

1973 - Elizabeth is born.

1974 - Charlie Emily is born.

1975 - Evan is born.

1980 - William discovers something called Remnant.

1981 - The Missing Children Incident happens and Fredbear's barely stays open.

1982 - William begins to create the Funtimes to harvest Remnant.

1983, March - Elizabeth dies at her friend's birthday party, three days after Circus Baby's Pizza World opened.

1983, August - Evan dies a week after the bite of '83. (FNAF 4)

1983, August - Mrs. Afton [Yet to be named] dies after driving her car off a cliff.

1983, October - Charlie is murdered by William at her own birthday party.

1986 - Michael goes to college to get away from the tragedy and gets a little therapy.

1990, April - Michael receives a letter from his father asking him to find Elizabeth.

1990, June - Michael dies in the Sister Location. (FNAF 5)

1991, January - Michael assumes the name 'Fritz Smith' and works at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria before being fired on his first day. (FNAF 2)

1993 - Michael uses the name 'Mike Schmidt' and works at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. (FNAF 1)

1993 - William dies in the Spring Bonnie suit

2000 - Michael works at Fazbear's Fright. (FNAF 3)

2010, Late December - Michael opens Freddy Fazbear Pizza Place. (FNAF 6, Pizzeria Simulator)

2010, Early January - Henry sets the fire, and Michael survives. (Still FNAF 6, Pizzeria Simulator)

2020, July - Michael works at the Mega Pizzaplex and is pushed into the ball pit only six days before the events of Security Breach.

Time Travel Timeline

[To be edited as chapters are added. Peek under the cut only if you have read the most recent chapter, or if you don't give a shit about spoilers.]

1980 - Michael arrives in the past. He is not happy.

#ao3 fanfic #it has yet to be posted #time travel #fix it fic #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf au #michael afton #william afton #elizabeth afton #evan afton #henry emily #charlie emily

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proxima-writes · 1 year

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‘til the sun burns out - part 3

part of the nothing else matters universe

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Read it on AO3

Summary:

Your wedding night to Eddie Munson.

Additional tags: explicit sexual content, p in v, cunnilingus, dirty talk, degradation, fluff and smut, no angst, established relationship

“Edward James Munson, if you are late to our wedding I will personally send you to hell myself,” you hiss into the receiver, leaving your fifth and increasingly threatening voice message to the phone the guys share while they’re on the road.

Your best friend Claire looks at you expectantly as you walk back into your bedroom. She flinches at your murderous expression but cheerily says, “Don’t worry, sugar, I’m sure they’re just…on the road. Speeding down here to make all your dreams come true.”

Rather than respond, you pour yourself another shot of vodka and toss it back. Then, you start pacing again, wringing your hands together to avoid grabbing the phone and leaving your sixth message.

It’s 1991 and a seasonably warm June day in Hawkins. You’ve been engaged to the man of your dreams for over a year, and the wedding planning was what kept you busy and your mind occupied during the months he was away for his latest tour and recording sessions.

Your wedding is scheduled to begin at 2 p.m. at Hawkins Church. You had kicked and screamed your way to this decision, but ultimately your dad telling you it would make your late mama proud tugged hard enough at your heartstrings to make you relent. Eddie had been a pretty quick sell on the idea.

“You mean get married by the very man who called me a radical satanist? It might give him a heart attack. Let’s do it,” he’d said when you called him to tell him your dad’s guilt trips had finally won.

It was now noon, and Eddie was supposed to be home from the tour at 10 a.m., but you haven’t heard from him or any of the other guys. “Claire, I’m going to kill him.”

“So you’ve said. To anyone within a five foot radius.” She sets her wine down and stands, grasping you by your upper arms. “You need to relax. He’ll be here. When has Eddie ever let you down?”

“September 1986 when he admitted that he’s never actually liked Red Vines and only eats them because I like them.”

“That’s not letting you down, that’s having taste. Now ease up on the vodka, I don’t want to have to hold your hair back in church.”

There’s a knock at your bedroom door and a familiar head of luscious hair pokes his head in.

“Harrington!”

“What’s this about vodka?” He asks as he enters the room, giving you a quick hug. “Where’s Munson?”

Claire makes a striking motion across her throat, but it’s too late. “He’s not here. Our wedding is in two hours and he’s not here! ” You shout.

Steve’s eyes go wide as he watches you start your pacing over. He looks at Claire. “She been like this all day?”

“This is…arguably the most calm she’s been.”

“I’m sure he’s got a good reason for running late,” Steve says diplomatically. “And if he doesn’t, then I’m glad I’m not him.”

You glare at Steve. “Thanks, Harrington. You really know how to make a girl feel better.”

“Anytime. I just wanted to stop by and say hi, let you know Nancy and Robin just got back in town. El and Max are at the church decorating. Dustin is…somewhere, being Dustin.” He pauses. “Pastor Mitchell has only been praying for the absolution of your sins for the past hour or so.”

“Huh, that’s not so bad,” Claire murmurs.

“I know, right?” Steve rubs a hand over his chin as he thinks of anything else to tell you. “Oh, Mrs. Wheeler brought the cake over to the bar. Chad put it in the fridge.”

“At this rate, the only thing I’m looking forward to is Mrs. Wheeler’s German chocolate cake,” you grumble. “Thanks, Steve. If you hear anything from Eddie could you let me know?”

He gives a little two finger salute before slipping out the door and disappearing. Claire regards you with concerned eyes. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you dressed.”

—-

It’s 1:45 p.m. and your dad is going to be walking you down the aisle any minute. You’ve had Claire checking whether Eddie’s arrived every five minutes for the past hour, and still no sign of him. The only thing keeping you from crying is the fact that your eyelashes are coated in a layer of mascara so thick that if you cried, you’re almost certain you’d go blind.

Your gown is an off the shoulder white dress that hits you leg at the knee, simple in style but stunning in figure. Your hair is teased and sprayed within an inch of its life. You’ve got a handful of sunflowers mixed with baby’s breath as a bouquet. You’re ready to get married.

The only thing you apparently don’t have is a fucking groom.

Your dad knocks on the door to the room you’re waiting in just off the lobby of the church. He’s dressed in a white button down tucked into black slacks, the same thing he wears to church the three times a year he goes.

“You look beautiful, sweet pea. I only wish your mama could have seen you,” he says, eyes glassy. All the anger leaves you in a rush as he envelopes you in a hug. “Now, come on. Let’s go get you hitched.”

You slide your arm into the crook of his elbow. The wedding march filters through the old wood doors of the nave as your dad stands with you, waiting for the doors to open. It’s Steve who pulls the door open, his face giving away nothing as your dad guides you inside.

The small gathering of people are all standing in the pews, facing you, with huge smiles on their faces but your eyes immediately find a familiar pair of brown ones at the end of the aisle.

Eddie stands next to a surly Pastor Mitchell, lips spread wide in a huge grin. To your surprise, he’s wearing a suit - black on black shirt, vest, and haphazardly done tie topped with his leather jacket instead of the suit jacket. The rest of the guys from the band stand beside him in similar suits, while on your side Claire stands in her baby blue gown, holding a bouquet similar to yours.

Your dad kisses you on the cheek before placing your hand in Eddie’s. Those familiar calloused fingers wrap around your own and just like that, all of the stress of the morning fades away.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers as you stand beside him and Pastor Mitchell begins his wedding sermon.

“You’re late,” you whisper back, though the words are full of far less heat than they would have been a few hours ago.

“Ran into a bit of trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Would you believe me if I said we stopped a robbery?”

You turn your head to him as you hiss out, “What?!”

Pastor Mitchell clears his throat, the annoyance clear on his face.

“Sorry,” you murmur, turning back to him. Eddie’s shoulders shake in silent laughter.

“The couple has chosen to say their own vow,” Pastor Mitchell says. “Edward?”

“Hey, baby,” Eddie starts, “Remember that time we drove out to watch the meteor shower? And how you watched the stars, but I could only watch you? You’re my favorite star in any galaxy. And I’ll love you until the sun burns out.”

Pastor Mitchell turns to you, and gestures for you to speak. “Eddie, you’re the wordsmith here, not me. But just know, you’re the sun in my galaxy. My best days begin and end with you, my love. I can’t wait for a lifetime of the best days.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride,” Pastor Mitchell says, closing his sermon book. Eddie reaches out to curl a hand behind your neck, hauling you towards him in a kiss impeded by your bright smile.

“I’m glad you changed your mind,” he murmurs.

“Me, too, Munson. Me, too.”

Hand in hand, you run laughing down the aisle of the church to the cheers of your friends and family.

And the silent prayers of Pastor Mitchell.

___

That night, The Hideout hosts its first ever wedding reception.

Mrs. Wheeler volunteered to take charge of managing the potluck style dinner and the cake. Your bartenders happily volunteered to serve drinks through the night. And the boys of Corroded Coffin provided the entertainment.

You haven’t stopped smiling, and every time your eyes meet Eddie’s, your heart flutters wildly in your chest.

Eddie Munson. Your husband.

Man, what a world.

The man in question slides an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your neck. “Dance with me?”

“Eddie Munson, since when do you dance?”

“Since I got the prettiest girl in the room to give me a chance,” he says. He drags you in front of the stage, and the boys start in on a song you haven’t heard before.

It’s slow, the guitar drawn out and the deep bass more pronounced. You slip your arms around Eddie’s neck and sway with him, your bodies pressed tightly together. Gareth is on vocals while Eddie enjoys your first dance.

“It’s called Nothing Else Matters. Metallica’s new song,” Eddie tells you, turning you in a circle. “Thought it fit us pretty well.”

Never cared for what they say

Never cared for games they play

Never cared for what they do

Never cared for what they know

And I know, yeah, yeah

So close, no matter how far

Couldn't be much more from the heart

Forever trusting who we are

No, nothing else matters

“It’s perfect, Eds,” you whisper.

———

Later, after the party has wound down and your friends shoo you and Eddie out of the bar and into the car decorated with a “Just Married” banner, Eddie pulls up to your shared home and rushes around the hood to pull your door open.

You barely get your seatbelt undone before he’s lifting you from the car, making you giggle. When he reaches the door, he sets you down for a brief second to tug his keys out and open the door before scooping you up into his arms again.

“When we cross this threshold, we’ll officially be husband and wife. You ready?” He asks.

“According to the state of Indiana, we’ve been husband and wife for the last twelve hours,” you reply.

Eddie steps into the dark house, kicking the door shut behind him. He makes a beeline for your bedroom, tossing you on the bed and immediately crawling up over your body.

“Have I told you yet how stunning you are?” He asks. “This dress looks amazing on you, but I bet it would look better on the floor,” he says with a wink.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tone gone sultry. You wrap your fist in the black tie around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “I can think of some places where this tie would look better, too.”

“Later. First, I’m gonna eat my wife’s pretty pussy,” he says, sliding down until he’s situated on his stomach between your spread legs. His rough hands shove your dress up over your hips, exposing the black lace panties and matching garter holding up your stockings. Eddie looks like a kid on Christmas. “Jesus Christ, this is all for me?”

“‘Til the sun burns out, baby,” you tell him. He grins at you, palms sliding up the backs of your thighs as he presses your legs up, exposing more of you to his hungry gaze.

He plants light kisses up the inside of both thighs before his lips gently trace your folds through the silk and lace. The dulled sensation of his mouth on you is maddening, not nearly enough for how tightly wound your body and soul are for this man.

“Eddie, please,” you beg, voice breathy.

“Oh, is my little slut already desperate?” He taunts. His thumb rubs circles over your sensitive clit, still keeping your lingerie as a barrier. “These cute little panties are already soaked, huh?”

You nod, arching your back and trying to shift your hips to chase the friction. He pulls back, making you groan in disappointment.

Eddie’s fingers trace the edges of the lace before finally pulling them aside. He uses his opposite hand to trace a single finger through your wetness before he draws back, landing a light smack to your center that has you fighting against his hold.

“Hold still, or I’m going to make this take way longer than either of us wants,” he warns before his tongue is on your, licking you from your dripping hole to your needy clit.

You cry out in relief, blabbering a litany of thank you and oh my god and please as he tortures you in the best way possible. You do your best to follow his instruction to stay still, but on a hard suck to your sensitive nub your hips chase his mouth and your fingers bury themselves into his curly hair.

He must be in a forgiving mood, because he simply groans against you and increases his pace, winding you tighter and tighter until you come against his lips with a shout of his name like a prayer.

Eddie works you down from your high, until your legs are deadweight over his shoulders. He sits up, grabbing your waist and flipping you to your belly. His fingers find the zipper of your dress and pull it down, shimmying the fabric off your body, and the only help you’re able to provide is in the form of lifting your hips so he can pull it fully off and toss it to the ground.

“Huh, I was right. It does look better on my floor,” he jokes before grabbing a handful of your ass in a rough grip. He smacks one cheek, then the other, making you cry out and rub yourself against the sheets, even as sensitive as you are.

The warmth of his body leaves yours as he stands, and you turn your head to watch him undress. Your mouth goes dry watching him unbutton his shirt, the tattoos you love to trace with your tongue coming into view. You follow the trail of hair beneath his belly button to the bulge in his slacks, watching as his deft fingers undo the fly and shove all the offending fabric out of the way of your appreciative gaze.

He holds the tie in his hand, a familiar mischievous twinkle in his eye as he gets back on the bed. “What do we think we should use this for? A gag? No, I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make for me. I think maybe we should tie you up, huh?”

You let out a pitiful whine, but nod your consent. Eddie helps you lift your arms above your head, your body now laying in one long line as he winds the silk around your wrists. He gives the bind an experimental tug, seeming pleased with his work.

“Lift those hips, princess. On your knees,” he says. You work your knees beneath you, raising your hips with a deep arch of your back, your chest pressed to the bed.

He runs a hand from your neck to the base of your spine, toying with the band of your underwear. “I think I’ll leave these on,” he tells you, before once again shifting the fabric to the side.

Your breath catches when you feel the blunt head of his cock at your dripping hole. He presses forward slowly, agonizingly, stretching deliciously until his hips sit flush to yours. He groans, hands trailing over all the skin he can reach as he lets you adjust until you give him that tell-tale shift of your hips, asking for more.

And more does he give.

He pulls out until you’re nearly empty before driving back inside, a harsh slap of his hips against yours. The angle brushes the head of him against that maddening spot inside of you, making you cry out and moan with each drag of his cock in and out of your heat.

Eddie winds a hand through your hair, using it along with a hand around your throat to bow your body off the bed, back arched against him as he pounds into you.

“My perfect little wife. So fucking gorgeous for me on her knees, crying out my name,” he growls into your ear. “Want you to come on my cock, sweetheart, want you dripping down my thighs as I fill you up.”

You nod against his hold, your hips moving frantically in time with his thrusts as you chase the second wave of relief he’s gifting you.

It shatters across your nerves a moment later, and Eddie groans, a flood of colorful curses leaving his lips as he chases his own release. He stills, and you moan at the feeling of him pulsing against your walls as he cums.

He gently guided the upper half of your body back to the bed before slipping out of you. He spreads you open with a hand on each cheek, watching with possessive attention as his cum leaks out of you.

Satisfied that you’re well fucked and marked up as his, he flops on the bed beside you, lust drunk hands struggling to undo the bind on your wrists. When you’re finally free, he hauls your body against his, the sweat cooling on your skin as he holds you.

“So, you ever gonna tell me why you were late?” You ask after a moment of catching your breath.

“I wasn’t joking about the robbery. We were pulling forward through a stop sign when some guy that stole a woman’s purse literally smashed into the van. On foot. Knocked him out cold. We had to wait for the police to take their report before we could keep driving.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know. Drove like a bat out of hell the rest of the way to make it on time.” His fingers trail along your arm. “Wouldn’t have missed this for anything.”

“I guess I can forgive you, then,” you tease.

He grins at you, looking just like the teenage boy you’d fallen for all those years ago, and for all the stress this morning caused you, you know you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader smut #rockstar eddie munson #stranger things fic #eddie stranger things #explict #eddie Munson would be late to his own wedding #no use of y/n #eddie munson x y/n

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ilookedintoit · 14 days

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In Another's Eyes: Garth & Trisha, Part 1

When Garth Brooks met Trisha Yearwood in a Nashville studio in the late 1980s, both singers were unknown and still hoping for their big break in country music.

Though Garth would later admit he felt like he had met his wife when he and Trisha first crossed paths, the fact was he already had a wife, and Trisha had a husband. So they were friends, and Garth made Trisha a promise - if his career ever took off, he'd be sure to give her a boost in any way he could.

Just a few years later, Garth was riding a wave of major success and he needed an opener for his upcoming tour. He picked Trisha. As they both became two of the biggest names in country music, they remained friends, contributed to each other's albums, and released a Grammy-winning duet. All the time, Garth was married to his college sweetheart Sandy, producing three children.

When Garth and his wife filed for divorce, everyone predicted he and Trisha would end up together after years of tabloid rumors - and of course, they did. But did anything happen between them before he was finally single?

1986

May 1986

Garth marries Sandy Mahl on May 24, 1986, when he is 24 and she is 21.

Garth met his future wife in 1983 when he was working as a bouncer at the Tumbleweed Ballroom, a bar in Stillwater, Oklahoma. She was a fellow student at Oklahoma State University.

Two versions of their first meeting have been told. Sandy would say in Garth's 2019 documentary, "The Road I'm On," that they met when Garth asked her to dance.

The other story that Garth told in the early 90s was that they met after Garth went into the women’s bathroom to break up a fight and found Sandy with her fist stuck in the wall.

After Brooks extricated the fist and ejected the lovely lass from the club, he tried to pick her up. “She said, ‘Drop dead!’ and called me a few other names and walked off.” “I said, ‘Well, can I call ya?’” the undaunted suitor recalls. Sandy gave him the courage to give his music a try. He’d come to Nashville once in 1985, but was terrified on his own in the country capital and fled homeward. But with Sandy by his side, Brooks came to Music City to stay in 1987. She calmed his fears and they took jobs at a boot store while he knocked on the doors of Music Row. (The Tennessean)

1987

June 1987

Garth and Trisha will first meet while working as demo singers at a studio in Nashville. Garth has often said he had been married for 13 months when this occurred, so it was presumably in June 1987 that they met.

Trisha was also married, having wed music producer Christopher Latham earlier that same year.

"Kent Blazy introduced me and Ms. Yearwood, and he goes, 'I knew you were gonna like her,'" Brooks recalled during a 2013 interview with Ellen DeGeneres. "When she left, he goes, 'What do you think?' "I said, 'Well, it's strange because I felt that feeling like when you just met your wife.'" (Source)

Garth and Trisha, how did you know the other person was the one? Garth: When you meet someone, you know. The problem was [when I first met her] I had been married for over a year. And that couldn’t have been wrong because you’re married in front of your family and God. You think, there must be some feeling that isn’t right. Trisha: It was probably the minute I met him, even though I didn’t know it at the time. (Source)

In Garth's 2019 documentary, "The Road I'm On," she reiterates that she had no intentions on anything ever happening.

“You feel the chemistry, it’s like there’s something here — but I’m gonna go home now… For me it was, I’m a good little southern girl, I was married, he was married. Not my world in that moment, it’s not an option. So when I left that day, I just thought he’s a nice guy, great voice, and I wish him well.”

A few years later, Trisha would recall this meeting and the promise that Garth made to her at the time:

He and Yearwood were among Music Row’s most in-demand singers of demonstration tapes; writer Kent Blazy knew them both and brought them together for a session. “That day we were singing on the same mike and doing the same licks and it was like, ‘This is really strange,’ and we really hit it off,” Yearwood recalled. “He said then, ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen with my career, but if I’m lucky enough to have some success I want to help any way I can.’ "I didn’t think about it, I put it out of my head, and went on about my business and made a living doing demos." (The Tennessean)

1989

April 1989

Garth releases his debut album "Garth Brooks" through Capitol Records Nashville in April 1989.

As he begins to achieve success, he also ends up cheating on Sandy while on the road.

When he married Sandy, he figured he’d settle down—only to give into temptation once given the chance. “I don’t see [unfaithfulness] as a necessity,” he insisted. “Anybody starting out saying, ‘Man, this has to happen’ — bullshit. It doesn’t.” During his first major tour in support of his debut album for Capitol Records, 1989’s "Garth Brooks," the entertainer was called out by friends for sleeping with other women while on the road. Sandy made an ultimatum: Stop fooling around or lose me. (Source: Garth Brooks: The Life & Times of a Country Superstar)

November 1989

One night when Garth is in Missouri for a concert, Sandy calls him and tells him that she is leaving him if he doesn't change his ways.

Then, says Sandy, ''an informant'' on tour confirmed her worst suspicions. ''Garth has always been a very sexual person,'' she says. ''It was his ego: proving he could look out, point and conquer. What made it easier to cope with was that it wasn't someone special. It didn't mean anything.'' In those heady first months, Garth admits, ''I was a spoiled ass. Responsibility, commitment was not my game.'' Sandy, who never toured with Garth back then, recalls it was the night of Nov. 4, 1989, when she nailed him by phone before a show. ''I told him my bags were packed, my plane ticket's bought, and I'm gone,'' she says. '''You come home and we'll talk, on my turf, eye to eye.''' (People Magazine)

He would tell Barbara Walters in a nationally-televised interview in 1993 about how he broke down on stage that night when trying to sing "If Tomorrow Never Comes:"

Garth: I guess you’d probably go back to playing Cape Girardeau, Missouri; this was when Sandy found about everything I’d been doing. Barbara Walters: Found out that there were other women. Garth: I got through the first three songs fine, and “If Tomorrow Never Comes” comes up, and … there wasn’t anything else. There was nothing left, I was inside out. The band kept playing, I didn’t know what to do, and I asked them to stop and they didn’t. I asked them to stop again and they did. This place was silent. I remember walking out and the applause was there, a different kind of applause, almost like a support applause.

Garth was able to win Sandy's forgiveness over time:

The mending took a while. ''I wanted Garth to feel my pain,'' says Sandy. ''He had hurt me so bad. I had wasted two years of my life is how I felt. I'd been the perfect little wife who thought everything was hunky-dory. The hardest thing was to keep from beating the holy s--- outta Garth at the sight of him. He was ashamed, embarrassed, and it was written all over his face. He broke down like a baby. He was on his knees, more or less beggin' me, 'I'll change, anything. You name it, I'll do it.''' And so he has. ''It took a helluva human being to forgive me,'' says Brooks. ''I had to promise I'd make this marriage work. It ain't a bed of roses now, but we bust our asses, and it works unbelievably well. For the first time in my life, I feel good about being a husband and a partner.'' As for Sandy, ''I love her to death,'' he adds solemnly. ''When I've been down, Sandy has given me strength. That's definitely given me what I have.'' (People Magazine)

1990

Garth's star is on the rise while Trisha is still looking for her breakthrough. In the meantime, Trisha provides backup vocals for Garth’s second album “No Fences,” which is released in August 1990.

Garth also introduces her to his managers, Bob Doyle and Pam Lewis, and his producer Allen Reynolds introduces Trisha to her new producer, Garth Fundis. (“I’m probably the only person in town who works with both Garths,” she quips.)

"No Fences" will inevitably be a smash hit with singles including "Friends In Low Places," "Unanswered Prayers," and "The Thunder Rolls."

October 1990

Garth wins the Horizon Award at the CMA Awards on October 8, 1990, and he insists on bringing Sandy up to the stage with him. Before accepting his award, he says:

“I’m not much good at it, but when I don’t sing I try to be a husband."

1991

As Garth prepares for his headlining tour and Trisha prepares to release her first album, he makes good on his promise to her from a few years ago to give her a career boost when it's in his power to do so.

As her first single "She's In Love with the Boy" begins its climb to No. 1, Trisha becomes Garth's opening act on his "Ropin' the Wind" tour. Trisha will tell The Tennessean in August 1991:

“When I got my deal, he came through and offered me this tour. I’ve been really lucky to be out on the road with someone that I’d had a friendship with before – and who also happens to be the hottest thing in country music.”

In the midst of the tour, Trisha releases her debut album "Trisha Yearwood" in July. Garth sings supporting vocals on her second single "Like We Never Had A Broken Heart," which peaks at No. 4 on the country chart.

According to the 1993 book “Get Hot or Go Home” written about Trisha with her cooperation, her new success and time away on tour hastens the demise of her already “faltering” marriage.

Christopher Latham tried to get her to seek counseling with him. His wife’s response: “I just don’t see how I can get back feelings I never had.”

They divorce without much fanfare. Trisha would later say about the marriage:

“You are encouraged to get married when you are a small-town person, and that’s what I did even though I knew it wasn’t right. I had met this guy and I thought, ‘I am never going to meet anybody who cares about me this much,’ which is probably true, so I married him. “There was just no real spark, which I think there is supposed to be. It wasn’t show business that broke us up. We wouldn’t still be married if I was back answering telephones.” (The Los Angeles Times)

In addition to her divorce, Trisha faces taboid rumors that have popped up about her and Garth having an affair. About these rumors, she will later say:

“We knew back when we decided we were going to do the tour that there would be talk,” she said. “But the first time I read it in the tabloids, I got really upset. So did my mom. I thought, ‘I’ll have to call everybody and say it isn’t true.’ “Then I figured that if you believe what the tabloids said about me having an affair with Garth, then you’ll also believe what is on the next page, which is something preposterous.” (The Los Angeles Times)

November 1991

In November, Trisha leaves Garth's management team to sign with Ken Kragen. After a whirlwind year, she is deemed Nashville's hottest new artist.

Garth doesn't want to take credit:

“A lot of people are making the mistake of saying I introduced Trisha Yearwood to country music,” he says. “Her talent is so very, very visible that that’s like saying you introduced Wayne Gretzky to hockey.” (The Atlanta Constitution)

December 1991

STAR Magazine prints a story in its Dec. 10 issue about how Garth is "furious" about the cheating rumors surrounding him and Trisha.

Garth phoned his mother, Colleen, from Little Rock, Ark., to set the record straight. “He likes his family to hear bad news from him direct. So even while he was on tour, he made sure to call his mom specifically to tell her about the rumors that he was having an affair with Trisha Yearwood,” says a source. “He told her, ‘Mom, I just want you to know what people are saying and what they’re trying to make of an innocent situation. The rumors are false, Mom. You know I love Sandy and would never do anything to hurt her or jeopardize our marriage.’” Another associate points out that wife Sandy would never put up with sharing Garth with another woman. “Sandy is a strong, independent woman. If there were any truth to these rumors, Trish wouldn't have been his opening act as recently as last January. If Sandy had any suspicions whatsoever, Trish wouldn’t have been anywhere near Garth. What wife would allow a possible lover so close?"

1992

February 1992

Just in time for Valentine's Day, Garth and Sandy are featured on the cover of USA Weekend, talking about how they saved their marriage after his infidelity.

Sandy Brooks, a slim, intense woman with a rapid smile, sits at a Nashville restaurant in November, picking at a plate of fried steak. She has reason to be moody. Her husband is baring his soul, she has been on the road for three days and she thinks she might be pregnant. But she’s been so busy that she hasn’t had time to take a home pregnancy test. Across from her, Garth Brooks – her husband, but more significantly, the hottest act in the hottest music in America today – is speaking quietly about the womanizing that almost ended their six-year marriage. Sandy’s blue eyes fill with tears. “I asked myself, why do I stay here? I know I love him, but…” “She’s got every right to leave me,” Brooks finishes. “But I’m happy here,” she interrupts, the tears now spilling down. “I think it has something to do with my physical build and good looks, too,” says Brooks, trying to lighten the moment and flirtatiously batting his eyes, deep-set in a moon face under a receding hairline. It works. Sandy bursts out laughing, affectionately elbows Garth. He squeezes her shoulder. The tears retreat, the moment ends.

Garth admits that the time his career takes him away from his wife leads to continuing struggles.

“For every day I give Sandy, I turn around and give one or two to the music,” Brooks says softly. “This six months I’m taking off? It started out as six months for Sandy and me, and I bet you we won’t have seven days in that six months.” Sitting next to him Sandy, 27, nods in agreement. “The marriage is still together because of her, not because of me,” Brooks says. Until recently, “I had the mentality of, ‘OK, if you don’t want to put up with me, you can hit the road.’ She said, ‘OK!’ Then I finally straightened up. The wife I got back after my infidelity was 15 times the woman I had. Like, ‘I’m gonna show you that any time you leave this house, you’re losing something,’” says Garth, playfully imitating his wife.

And Sandy acknowledges that people don't understand why she is the one who gets to be married to country music's biggest star.

“A lot of people look at me and say, ‘Why you?’ I ask myself that also. My answer is, because I fell in love with a long-haired country boy long ago. I was there when it was like, how many ways can we figure out how to cook potatoes?” ... While Sandy is happy about the unplanned baby, she continues to hope for peace, quiet and Garth. “There will come a day in my life when it is just Garth and me. I might be 75 and toothless,” she says, laughing. “But that’s what keeps me going.”

March 1992

After wrapping up her opening act stint on Garth’s seven-month tour, Trisha reflects on what it has meant to her:

“Anybody would have killed to be on this tour,” she said between sips on a soft drink. “It was scary, intimidating and wonderful. I know a lot of people came to see Garth, but we had something to offer.” Their careers were not merely linked by the 80-city tour. Yearwood sang harmony on his albums “No Fences” and “Ropin’ the Wind,” which together have sold 12 million copies. In return, he sang harmony on her album and co-wrote two of the 10 songs, including her second hit, “Like We Never Had a Broken Heart.” “He’s been like a big brother to me,” she said. (Associated Press)

Around this same time, Trisha has begun dating Robert Reynolds, bass player for The Mavericks.

Yearwood met Reynolds at a party given by her label, MCA. “It was really one of those corny across-the-room kind of things,” Yearwood says. “I saw him and he kind of saw me and we rounded the ice sculpture and met in the middle.” (The Atlanta Journal)

April 1992

In April, a pregnant Sandy accompanies Garth to the ACM Awards. She has had some health scares during the pregnancy, and on stage as he accepts just one of the awards he will win that night, he thanks everyone for their concerns for her and the baby.

July 1992

Sandy gives birth to their first child, Taylor.

August 1992

As Garth struggles with the seemingly impossible task of balancing career and family, he toys with the idea of retirement. He tells the Edmond Evening Sun:

With the birth of a daughter, Taylor Mayne Pearl Brooks, the former Oklahoma State student is considering cutting short his career in favor of fatherhood and a more traditional home life with wife Sandy. “Fatherhood’s new for me and it’s kind of thrown me for a loop,” Brooks said. “One thing that I always recall that my parents gave me was time and attention. “And I think children deserve that. My occupation doesn’t allow me to give time and attention. So I’ve got to find a way, good Lord willing, to do ’em both. “If I can’t do ’em both, then I must not choose music over (my wife and daughter).” Brooks has a cutback in his schedule planned after December, at which time he said he will make a decision on his future. “I’m saying my prayers and hopefully I’ll make the right choice.”

1993

January 1993

Somewhat cynical reporting will claim this narrative of Garth wanting to retire is “partly a ploy during heated contract negotiations with his label, Liberty Records.”

Whatever the case, Garth ultimately does not retire and signs a new lucrative, 20-year contract with Liberty in January 1993.

February 1993

Trisha tells a reporter that she and Robert Reynolds are celebrating their first year together as a couple.

“It’s really nice to be with somebody who understands it (the country music business) because he does it, but who also understands that life is more important. When we’re together we have a five-minute business rule – we can talk about business for five minutes and that’s it.” (The Commercial Appeal)

March 1993

Trisha and Robert get engaged.

But she’s not about to abandon her career. “I would like a family someday, but I’ve been pretty unconventional up until now, so I don’t think I have to stop and have three kids.” (The Atlanta Journal)

June 1993

Trisha talks again about Garth's influence in getting her career started and the tabloid rumors that swirled around them.

Q: Were you surprised when Brooks picked you as his opening act? A: I was actually, because only a handful of people believed in me then. He took a really big risk. But when we met, he said, “I love your voice, and if things go well, I want to help you out.” And he obviously meant it. He sticks by what he believes in; that’s why he is who he is. Q: At the time, the tabloids wrote that you two were having an affair. A: It wasn’t true, and when I first read it, I thought I’d better call everybody and tell them it wasn’t true. Now I’ve learned that it’s part of [being in show business] – if you’re successful, you’re going to be in the tabloids. But I never even got talked about in high school! I was always a good girl. Q: Brooks must have taught you a lot. A: He’s like a big brother to me. He taught me about the things you’re supposed to do, like visiting radio shows. I learned a lot watching him with the fans – I never saw him be anything but gracious. He always remembered why he was there. (Simi Valley News)

1994

April 1994

Trisha says she and Garth have talked about possibly doing a duets album and going on tour together. She reiterates that he is like a "big brother" to her.

“I’ve made three albums now, and I want to do different things,” she said. One of those different things involves a “sort of side career” of duets with longtime friend Brooks. They recently talked backstage at an awards show about doing a duet album and maybe touring together as a twosome. They’ve talked about it for some time, Yearwood said, and finally decided to quit talking and do it. “There really haven’t been any famous duet partners in a long time, for more than one song or album,” she said. “I do think there’s a place for that. We’ve always traded harmonies on each other’s albums. “Garth’s always been like a big brother to me,” she continued. “We’re not just two voices singing at each other.” (Fort Worth Star Telegram)

May 1994

May is a big month for both Garth and Trisha.

On May 3, 1994, Sandy gives birth to her and Garth's second daughter, August.

Garth is announced as the ACM Entertainer of the Year this same day, but is unable to even accept his award via remote feed because he has gone to the hospital to await the birth.

And after more than two years together, Trisha marries Robert Reynolds on May 21, 1994, at the Ryman in Nashville with a small invitation list. They honeymoon afterward in Ireland.

December 1994

Garth indicates that he and Trisha have already tried to put together a duets album that didn't work, but are not giving up on the idea:

He still plans an album of duets with old buddy Trisha Yearwood; their first attempt wasn’t up to snuff, he reports.

He also says he wants to put his family first.

“Now every minute I don’t spend with my family I spend with music, not the other way around.” (Knight Ridder News Service)

1995

Spring-Summer 1995

Sandy is frequently at Garth's side during public events, including the People's Choice Awards in March, ACM Awards in May, and his Hollywood Walk of Fame ceremony in June.

October 1995

Trisha tells the New York Daily News that she and her husband of 17 months are juggling busy schedules.

“We’re so busy, we practically have to make an appointment to see each other,” said the Georgia peach. “But it’s been a good year for us.” With The Mavericks being white-hot, Yearwood and Reynolds have been crossing flight paths since their wedding a year ago.

1996

July 1996

Garth and Sandy welcome their third daughter, Allie, on July 28, 1996.

August 1996

Trisha and Robert are still in what sounds like a long-distance marriage.

Yearwood’s extensive touring schedule is keeping her away from husband Robert Reynolds even more than usual. Reynolds plays bass in The Mavericks, the popular Miami-rooted roots-rock/country band, which is also on tour this summer. “I think, so far, the longest we’ve been apart this summer is right now which is two weeks,” Yearwood said last Friday. “And we’re going to see each other because I’m going to California and he’s going to be near there, so he’s going to get on a plane and come see me. We do that a lot. “We really go that extra mile to really seek out those days we can spend together. Sometimes it means flying into Nashville, like if I’m home and he’s on the road and has a day off, he’ll fly in and take me to a movie. It’s an expensive movie. But that’s kind of how we make it work.” “Things will eventually slow down for us – we won’t be touring this heavily the rest of our lives. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about what we used to do.” (Lincoln Journal Star – Aug. 23, 1996)

September 1996

In a September 10, 1996, cover story for Country Weekly, Trisha's life is deemed a "fairy tale" and Trisha gushes about Robert.

“I’m amazed we’ve been together for four years and still feel this way about each other. It’s kind of moving into a deeper level, even.” Life’s an adventure when the happy twosome finds time together, Trisha revealed. “He’s a laugh a minute. The last time we were home we put up the tepee I gave him for Christmas, and he was like a 12-year-old.” Asked how much time she and Robert get to spend together, Trisha said: “Believe it or not, we see each other quite a lot. He’s on the road and I’m on the road, but when one of us is off, we often fly to be with each other. We’ve got a lot of frequent flyer miles, let me tell you.”

October 1996

Garth and Sandy renew their marriage vows at the Good Shepherd United Methodist Church in Madison, Tennessee, on October 26.

1997

May 1997

Garth films a concert special in Ireland that will air on TV the following year. Trisha flies there to provide harmonies and sing a duet with him for the Ireland concerts.

She talks about it to The Tennessean ahead of the filming and how she tries to balance real life with her demanding schedule:

Fitting normalcy into a jet-set schedule is difficult. Tomorrow morning, for example, she boards a plane for Ireland, where she’s slated to perform with Garth Brooks as the “backup chick singer” for a series of concerts. “Yesterday I get home, I’ve been on the road for three weeks,” Yearwood recounts. “I’m like, ‘OK, the shrubs have not been trimmed in the three years I’ve lived here,’ and I just got out a pair of weed whackers – the big shears – and I did the whole house. Robert comes home and goes, ‘What happened?’ I’m like, ‘I don’t know, I went nuts.’” … Yearwood consciously fights that tendency toward isolation. Husband Reynolds, with whom she’ll celebrate their third anniversary during the Ireland trip, pushes her toward normalcy, despite his own bit of fame as the bass player for the Grammy-winning band The Mavericks. “Robert is totally undaunted by success,” she notes. “He’ll go out on the road with me where everybody knows he’s out there, and he’ll go out in the audience with a laminate (backstage pass) on, and sign autographs for an hour. He’s so unafraid of just getting out there in the middle of it, and he encourages me, in turn, to be that way.”

Robert is along for the Ireland trip and they mark three years married:

Congrats to Trisha Yearwood and The Mavericks’ Robert Reynolds who are celebrating their third wedding anniversary today (May 21) with a trip to the tropical island where they first honeymooned. Trisha’s been in Ireland opening shows for Garth Brooks. (The Tennessean)

August 1997

Trisha's new album, Songbook, is released in August 1997 featuring a duet with Garth, "In Another's Eyes." Though they have worked together in the past on each other's albums and had entertained the idea of doing a duets album together, this is their first true, major collaboration.

This duet will kick off a partnership between the two that is much more frequent and consistent than it has been since Trisha opened for Garth in 1991.

"In Another's Eyes" is also sent to country radio in August as the second single from Trisha's album. The song was written by Garth Brooks, Bobby Wood, and John Peppard.

In another's eyes I'm someone who Loves her enough to walk away from you I'd never cheat, I'd never lie In another's eyes

In another's eyes I can do no wrong He believes in me and his faith is strong I'd never fall or even compromise In another's eyes

For country star Trisha Yearwood, the current hit “In Another’s Eyes” marks a new chapter in a long-standing friendship. The song is a duet with superstar Garth Brooks, who Yearwood knows from demo-singing days of the 1980s in Nashville. “We’ve been friends for 10 years, and we’ve always been on each other’s records,” said Yearwood during a recent telephone interview from her tour bus. “We talked about doing a duets album, which has never gotten done. But we got the one tune recorded, and it’s been really nice. I hope that it’s going to be the catalyst that gets us back into the studio, and gets us recording a whole album.” (The Times)

September 1997

To promote the song in addition to some joint performances during live concerts in the fall, Garth and Trisha appear on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno.

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They also appear and sing on Terry Bradshaw's show.

On September 25, 1997, Trisha wins Female Vocalist of the Year at the CMA Awards, and she thanks Robert who is in the audience. Garth wins Entertainer of the Year but is not in attendance because he is on the road.

1998

February 1998

Garth and Trisha win the Grammy for Best Country Collaboration with Vocals for "In Another's Eyes."

Beginning in February, Trisha joins a number of Garth's world tour dates throughout the duration of 1998 to sing "In Another's Eyes" and "Walkaway Joe" during the concerts.

Garth also drops in on one of Trisha's concerts in late February:

Country music fans at a free promotional miniconcert by Trisha Yearwood got an unexpected bonus. Superstar Garth Brooks dropped in on his friend and opening act at the Caravan of Dreams on Sunday afternoon. Yearwood and Brooks sang a couple of tunes to the surprised crowd, including their duet “Walkaway Joe,” that has been highlighting his concerts in the Dallas-Fort Worth area the past two weeks. When Brooks walked onstage fans were shocked, but Yearwood simply turned and asked, “Would you like a Tic-Tac?” (Odessa American)

April 1998

In early April, the soundtrack for the movie "Hope Floats" is released, featuring Garth and Trisha's separate versions of "To Make You Feel My Love" at the beginning and end of the track list.

At the ACM Awards on April 22, Trisha introduces the presentation of the Special Achievement award to Garth, as he and Sandy sit in the audience.

Trisha also wins Top Female Vocalist and mentions her husband in her acceptance speech:

"Thank you... to my sister, who’s my date tonight because my husband’s in London. I love you Robert, wherever you are."

In a Q&A with the Associated Press, Trisha praises the way Garth handles being so famous.

Q: Besides touring, including a trip and television special in Ireland, you and Garth Brooks recorded a duet. What has he taught you? A: I’ve known him for 10 years and we’re good friends. He’s like a big brother to me. I think we both value each other’s opinion. I watch him and how he deals with fans. Let me tell you, he has class. He’s a good person. The biggest thing to learn from him is he really focuses on the music and lets the other stuff (gossip and critics knocking him) fall to the wayside. He doesn’t act famous. I like that.

July 1998

Trisha appears on Prime Time Country on The Nashville Network, and Garth drops in as a surprise during her interview.

Garth: “Usually we’re everywhere together… So she was here, I was off… I work for her now.”

September 1998

Garth and Trisha have another duet, "Where Your Road Leads," on her newest album of the same name. It is released as a single in September.

They perform "Where Your Road Leads" together live via satellite from their concert in Buffalo, which is broadcast on the CMA Awards on September 23.

They also accept awards they win that night - including Female Vocalist of the Year for Trisha and Entertainer of the Year for Garth - via the remote feed from Buffalo.

December 1998

The entire year has been full of Garth and Trisha performances, so of course it ends with a Christmas program appearance on NBC.

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1999

I wasn't able to find a whole lot of information about Garth and Trisha interactions throughout most of 1999. This may be because Garth's latest world tour has finally ended, and he has some new areas of focus including the "Chris Gaines" experiment that takes him down a very different tangent, along with the decision to privately separate from Sandy in March.

It may also be that they have spent the last year being such a duo that it was naturally time for a break from that. Whatever the case, they continue on as they were before... until October when Trisha files for divorce, and everyone's eyes turn to Garth.

January 1999

On January 5, Trisha receives three Grammy nominations and The Mavericks receive one, which is highlighted in a widely-dispersed Associated Press report, including the subhead: “Yearwood does better than husband.”

Sandy is with Garth at the American Music Awards on January 11, where he and Trisha also perform "Powerful Thing" together.

Less than a week later, Robert is with Trisha on January 16 when she is officially invited to join the Grand Ole Opry.

February 1999

Nancy Jones, wife of George Jones, has recently released a book called "Nashville Wives" which features chapters on wives of big country stars. Sandy contributes to the book, reportedly against Garth's wishes. Nancy tells a reporter:

“I didn’t really have to dig. I think it was therapy for a lot of these women. I think that with Sandy Brooks, there were some things she wanted to tell. Garth told her he didn’t want her to do the book, because he thought it would come back and haunt her. She called me several times, changing her mind before she said, ‘I’m doin’ it!’”

A quote from Sandy in the book includes:

“I knew nothing of what he was up to on the road, and he knew nothing of what I was up to, and we came together and said, ‘This ain’t what we had planned for each other,’ and we refocused and realized that we are a team and that we loved each other very much, but we had gotten off track.”

In an interview with Good Morning America, Nancy Jones talks more about what Sandy needed to get off her chest in the book:

Interviewer: You even talk with some women who talk about their husband's infidelity. Even Sandy Brooks, Garth Brooks' wife. And he publicly admitted his own infidelity. Nancy: Yes, he did, and in the book it also tells how Sandy dealt with it and how he dealt with it at first when he announced it. I mean, gosh, you get on TV and announce it, it's definitely embarrassing. She dealt with it and she tells how she still deals with a lot of things out there. Just imagine being married to Garth Brooks and all the women screaming and hollering for him.

Garth's "Chris Gaines" project, which is supposed to be a lead-in to a movie, is announced in February:

Garth Brooks’ new album, a pop release that will serve as a prequel soundtrack to the movie “The Lamb," will lead off with both a pop and a country single, according to Brooks. The Don Was-produced album, which features Brooks singing as Chris Gaines, the lead character in the movie, will be called “Garth Brooks in the Life of Chris Gaines.” The idea, says Brooks, is that by the time the movie comes out next year, people will recognize the songs as well as have a constant reminder that the movie is coming. (National Post)

(Though the Gaines album is initially supposed to get released in May 1999, it is pushed back several months. It will become a joke to the general public despite the commercial success of the album. The movie "The Lamb" will never end up being filmed.)

March 1999

When Garth and Sandy's divorce is filed in 2000, the documents will state that they had been quietly separated since March 1999. It appears that in the ensuing months, the two were still closely co-parenting and weighing the future of their marriage.

In Garth's documentary "The Road I'm On," Sandy says they had grown apart due to his constant career endeavors taking him away:

"When you’re not there on a daily basis, even a weekly basis, to communicate feelings… those were some lonely times."

While publicly Garth is gearing up for the Chris Gaines project, Trisha also takes on a different career move with an acting appearance in the TV show "JAG." In an article profiling her time on the show, Trisha and Garth are quoted about each other:

"The artist I would want to work with - every day, every night - is Trisha Yearwood," Garth Brooks says flatly.

“We have always just clicked,” Yearwood said. “The first time we sang together, it was like we had always sung together.” They’ve continued to do occasional duets. Yearwood opened for Brooks last year, singing to throngs. “In Minneapolis, we had 190,000 people over nine days,” she said. (Lansing State Journal)

An article mentions that Trisha's husband and parents are there when she is inducted into the Grand Ole Opry on March 13. I cannot find anything showing whether Garth was there, but he does offer this quote:

“I’m so happy for Trisha because she gets what it means to be a member, and I’m so happy for the Opry because they’re getting the highest in class and quality in return. It’s going to be a good marriage.”

May 1999

Amid their private separation, Sandy accompanies Garth to the ACM Awards where he wins Entertainer of the Year and Artist of the Decade. While in January he was still wearing his wedding ring, in May his finger is now bare.

During his speech to accept the Artist of the Decade award, Garth says, “I’ve got to turn to my wife, Sandy, and say thank you for a wonderful decade.”

In response, Sandy mouths, “I love you.”

He then says, “As far as a partner in the 90s music-wise, Trisha, I can’t thank you any more for the friendship you’ve shown me.”

June 1999

Trisha and her husband's band The Mavericks play a fundraiser for makeup artist Joel Green, who is battling cancer.

September 1999

Robert sits with Trisha at the CMA Awards on September 22 where she is nominated for Female Vocalist (losing to Martina McBride).

October 1999

Just two weeks after the CMAs, Trisha files for divorce from Robert. It is announced on October 5:

Country star Trisha Yearwood and her husband Robert Reynolds are calling it quits. Her publicist issued a statement Tuesday saying that the couple “filed for divorce today citing irreconcilable difference.” The statement also says, “The couple asks that their privacy be respected during this very personal and difficult time.” The two married in May 1994.

News of the divorce will set off a flurry of tabloid stories and rumors surrounding Garth and Trisha, even as he works out his separation from Sandy for another year.

For Part 2 click here.

#garth brooks #trisha yearwood

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moonchildreads · 11 months

Text

small town

Chapter 17 - Girls Just Want to Have Fun

IN THIS CHAPTER: A short roadtrip, blackmailing a jock, and Lady Di sends a signal [7.7k]

WARNINGS: andy the bully makes an appearance but nothing serious happens! lots of foreshadowing tho lol

A/N: shout out to my beloved @justahappycloud for vibechecking andy and dot's conversation for me! you're absolutely wonderful and i honest to god cannot believe i'm gonna hug you in a couple of days. i love you so so much, and i can't wait to tell you that in person. having said that, i'm gonna take a break from posting because i'm going on holiday! i'll still be around if you want to talk and i might leave... a couple of extras for you... you'll have to see! regular updates will return on friday, june 30th!

masterlist - prev - next | main playlist - chapter playlist

Oh, daddy dear, you know you're still number one But girls, they wanna have fun

Friday, May 23rd - 1986

Dorothy Burke couldn’t remember being this fucking angry in her entire goddamn life. She was pretty sure that if she were a cartoon character, steam would have been coming out of her ears the minute she heard Andy fucking Humphrey brag about getting an A in his latest AP Spanish pop quiz. She’d been watching him all week, eyes always stuck to his back during class, ears perking up when she heard his obnoxious cackle in the cafeteria, hands turning into fists when he’d “accidentally” tripped a quiet sophomore on his way to the bathroom. So when Mr. Lorenzo returned last week’s pop quizzes to them on Wednesday and praised him for “finally deciding to take his studies seriously” after she saw him cheat on the entire test, Dottie began plotting for revenge. Not because of the test, she didn’t give two shits about that and, of course, snitches get stitches. No, this one was for Gareth, and Dustin, and Donny, and Jeff, and any of the times he thought being Hawkins High royalty absolved him from sin. She’d make him pay. Not right now, but eventually he’d get what was coming to him. And it all began that Friday before finals week.

Her last class on Fridays was, thankfully, AP Spanish. Dottie planned everything to perfection, tested her escape route on Wednesday in case she needed a quick getaway, and asked her friends to wait until her Dad came to pick her up so she wouldn’t be caught alone in the parking lot if everything went to shit. Hellfire had been canceled because the boys had tickets to see Poltergeist II: The Other Side at 6 pm, but the props room they used as headquarters was unlocked in case she needed a place to hide for a bit. When the final bell of the day rang, she hurried to get her things in her bag and approached Andy’s desk with a sweet smile and shy act that she’d successfully tried on Fred earlier that week. Nancy had, of course, asked her what that had been about, but Dottie had simply told her that the less she knew, the better. The blue eyed girl had grinned with a weird sense of pride and left her to her devices without any more questions.

“Hi! Andy, right?” Dottie asked, carefully crafted honey dripping from her tongue.

“Who’s asking?” he said without looking up, still gathering his things.

“We’re in this class together, I sit over there,” she said, waiting until his eyes landed on her to point to her desk. She could feel his confused eyes scanning her: cute little dress, frilly socks, no Hellfire shirt, pearls in her ears. He has no idea who I am.

“Yeah, of course! I’ve seen you around,” he said, trying to hide the fact that he actually did not know who the fuck Dottie was. Sadly for him, it wasn’t working.

“I saw you did really well on the last pop quiz and I was wondering if you could help me out,” she widened her eyes a little bit to look more innocent and saw the corner of his mouth lift into a half smirk. God, men are so easy, she thought, remembering how Fred had rapidly blinked three times in a row when she pulled that move on him. “Can I see your answers, please?”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Andy stammered, extremely confused but not about to complain if a pretty girl was making goo-goo eyes at him. Dottie wasn’t the type he usually went for; he liked them better skinny, tall and tanned, but there was a certain kind of charm to the girl-next-door type. “I could, y’know- I could help you study for the final, if you want.”

“Really? Wow, you’re so nice,” she pretended to fawn over him until he got the test out of his binder and gave it to her. The classroom was empty now. “Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you about…”

“Go on,” he said, sitting on his desk to flirt back with her. “Ask me whatever you want, babe.”

Babe. Oh, he was gonna get it now. She had him right where she wanted, and all she had to do was reel him in. Channeling her inner devil, she came up to where he was sitting to stand between his open legs, hand resting on his knee.

“Anything I want?” she smiled, and he nodded. “Well, how about… you leave my friends alone for the rest of the year and I don’t tell Mr. Lorenzo you cheated on this?” she waved the test in the air.

“What?”

“See, you might not know who I am, but I know you, Andy,” she dropped the sweet act instantly, hard eyes on his. He looked so confused. “And last Wednesday, you made the mistake of letting me see you cheat. You even smiled at me while you did it. I gotta admit, it was the first time I saw someone write down the answers on the inside of a water bottle sticker, that shit was clever.”

“Who put you up to this?” he asked, rage beginning to catch up to his bewilderment. She had to get out of there, fast.

“I know you egged Gareth Coleman on Thursday after class. It would be a shame if Mr. Lorenzo found out about your little water bottle trick, don’t you think? You really need this A if you’re gonna keep that Division II scholarship you got to, where was it? Indiana Central?”

“You’re a fucking bitch,” he got up from his desk, getting in her face. He was barely an inch shorter than Eddie, and while the metalhead’s height had always been comforting for her, Andy’s was downright intimidating.

“And you’re a lousy cheater,” she retorted, grabbing the strap of her bag, ready to bolt out into the packed hallway.

“You have no proof.”

“Don’t I?” she said, pressing on her backpack where she’d tucked in an empty plastic bottle. It wasn’t even the correct brand, but he didn’t know that, and his eyes burned when he heard the crackling noise. “Stay away from the boys in the Hellfire Club. This is your only warning.”

And with that, she bolted straight to the girls’ bathroom at the end of the hallway before he could even think about reacting. This particular bathroom had two exits, and she took advantage of that knowledge to sprint across to the other door, past the labs, turning the corner to the Art room and out into the parking lot, where she immediately clocked her friends hanging out between Eddie’s van and Donny’s car, Dustin and Mike leaning onto their bikes while they talked. All the way across the parking lot, was Jason Carver’s car, where its owner and his friends were clearly waiting for one Andy Humphrey to arrive.

“Eddie!” she yelled through gritted teeth, trying to get his attention. “For the love of God, Eddie!”

“Hey, what’s- woah!” she threw herself on him and stuck her hand in his front jean pocket, getting his keys out and opening the van’s back doors before jumping inside with the haste of a madwoman. “Dot, what’s wrong?”

“I fucked up- close the fucking doors! If Andy sees me, we’re all dead!”

“Wait, what? What did Andy do now?” Donny asked, climbing into the back of the van behind her. The rest of the boys looked at each other before they too got in and closed the doors, separating themselves from the rest of the student body.

“He didn’t do anything, I just- I threatened to tell a teacher that he cheated on a test if he bothered you guys again.”

“You did what?!” Eddie asked, eyebrows raising to his hairline.

“I know! I know I fucked up, I was just so fucking angry! He thinks he’s untouchable and it’s about time someone showed him he’s not!”

“Okay, back up. What exactly did you do?” Dustin asked.

Dottie took a deep breath and began retelling the week’s events to the six boys that were surrounding her in the back of the van. The parking lot began to empty and only a few cars remained by the time she had finished but her Dad was still nowhere to be found. An uncomfortable silence settled between them while they took in the situation at hand.

“She can’t be alone anymore,” Mike said, looking at Eddie for guidance.

“You really think he’s gonna hit her?” Gareth asked with worried eyes.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Dustin said. “Do you think he’s gonna tell the rest of the team?”

“I didn’t tell him my name,” Dottie remembered. “They might not even know who I am, I mean, he didn’t and we’ve been in the same class for months.”

“You told him to leave Hellfire alone, it doesn’t matter if they don’t know you. They know us.”

“Shit, do you think we’re all gonna be targets now?” Jeff looked scared.

“You say that like we weren’t before,” Mike argued.

“We have to move in groups, we can’t let them catch us alone,” Donny said.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough!” Eddie raised his voice, cutting the chatter short. “You good, darling?”

“I didn’t mean to make them come after you,” she put her head in her hands. She’d been so angry that she didn’t stop to think how she might be making things worse with her well-intentioned actions. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re so not an idiot, come here,” he tucked her under his arm, squeezing her protectively. “You meant well but that’s not how these guys work. They are meatheads, you can’t reason with them.”

“So what do we do?” Jeff asked him.

“Donny’s right, we move in groups from now on. No one goes anywhere alone for the rest of the school year. We’ve got three more weeks and we’re done. Avoid the basketball team, keep your heads down,” Eddie turned to Mike and Dustin. “If anyone does anything to you, you come to me. You think Sinclair can help you two out?”

“We haven’t talked to Lucas in months,” Dustin admitted, looking a little ashamed.

“We don’t need him,” Mike dismissed his friend quickly. “We’ll stick with you guys.”

“Carver’s car is gone,” Gareth announced, peeking through a side window.

“Get home now, take the backroads,” Eddie opened the doors and heaved Dustin’s bike up from the concrete for him. “We’ll figure out pairs on Monday.”

“I’m sorry,” Dottie tried apologizing again, but Dustin went in for a hug.

“It’s okay. We’ve been through worse, I promise,” the younger boy smiled reassuringly.

“Besides, this means you’re officially one of the freaks now,” Mike said, successfully getting a low snort from her.

They said their goodbyes and Dustin and Mike climbed onto their bikes, speeding off the parking lot with impressive alacrity. Donny and Jeff sat themselves on the back of Eddie’s van, surveying the area. Only a couple of cars remained, mostly belonging to teachers. Gareth’s bus had already left, and Eddie offered to give him a ride before turning to Dottie.

“You sure your Dad’s coming?”

“Yeah, he said he was gonna get off early so we could go to Indy. Maybe he got held up at the office?”

“What are you going to Indy for?” Jeff asked.

“Prom’s in two weeks and I still don’t have a dress so hopefully I’ll find something there today or else I’m going naked.”

“Auditioning for Playboy at prom? That’s bold,” Gareth joked, and she immediately kicked his leg.

“Don’t get cute with me, Gareth, I know where you keep your porn.”

“We all know,” Donny said, leaning back on his arms. “He’s not very good at hiding it.”

“I bet his Mom knows too, she just pretends she hasn’t seen it,” Eddie snickered.

“Shut up!” Gareth jumped on Eddie, trying to wrestle him down to the dirty floor.

“Hey, whose car is that?” Jeff asked Donny and Dottie, completely ignoring the other boys yelping while play fighting between their rides. “It’s been there for like twenty minutes.”

“Must be a teacher’s,” Donny guessed. “I saw a pregnant lady come out of it earlier.”

“There aren’t any pregnant teachers.”

“Yeah? Then who’s that?” Donny pointed to the school doors where there was, indeed, a pregnant woman waddling towards the mystery car, another lady behind her searching through her big purse, probably trying to find her car keys.

Nothing could have prepared Dottie for what she was about to see when she turned, because never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she’d see two of her aunts casually strolling through the Hawkins High School parking lot towards a car neither of them owned, as evidenced by its Indiana “Wander” license plate. What on Earth-

“Auntie Rachel?” Dottie raised her voice, and the woman going through her purse looked up instantly, keys finally in her hand.

“Hey, there you are! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” the woman now known as Rachel said, quickly changing paths and power walking towards them, heels clicking on the concrete. “Your Dad said you get off at two!”

“I do, I just got held up,” Dottie hurried to wrap her arms around her Auntie. “What are you doing here?”

“Your Dad called for backup and we honestly needed a girly weekend,” the pregnant woman said, one hand resting on her belly and the other one at her back, her flowy floral dress swishing around her ankles as she waddled closer to them.

“It’s the last time Mary Elizabeth’s gonna be able to get on a plane until Rose arrives so we spent all my miles and we’re taking you to Indianapolis for a shopping trip.”

“You came all the way to Hawkins to help me buy a prom dress?” Dottie said, disbelief painted all over her face.

“It’s your senior prom, baby,” Mary Elizabeth said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Did you really think we were gonna miss it?”

“Are these your friends?” Rachel asked, directing her attention to the gaggle of boys that were staring up at them.

Gareth still had Eddie in a loose headlock, both letting go of each other instantly when the women approached with curious smiles and mischievous eyes on their faces. Auntie Rachel was a tall severe looking woman with thick rimmed glasses and a classy bob. Her lips were painted a deep burgundy, and she wore stylish pants and low heels - she looked as sophisticated as she was independent and open-minded. She was an accountant and many of her clients included investors that dabbled in the theater sphere, making her the one responsible for Dottie’s intense love of Broadway and musicals. She’d gone through a messy divorce around a year ago, had two boys (Nicky and Peter, ages 14 and 10), and had recently realized that maybe all those times Dottie had begged her to go see Rocky Horror together had been more enlightening than she had assumed they had been at the time.

Aunt Mary Elizabeth - not Mary, not Elizabeth, Mary Elizabeth - on other hand was the poster child for the 70’s hippie movement. What Rachel gave off in casual formality, Mary Elizabeth matched in cozy comfort with her sleeveless prairie style dress and sandals, baby bump proudly on display under the soft flowery pattern. She was married to Uncle Johnny, the same Uncle that Dottie had gone to for advice regarding Eddie’s moldy ceiling, and Rose, who was currently softly kicking her, was their first baby. She hadn’t been born yet but was very much expected and hard fought for.

“This is Hellfire! Guys, these are my Aunts: Rachel and Mary Elizabeth. Plus Rosie,” Dottie said, excited as always whenever her worlds collided.

“Which one of you is giving my niece latkes with applesauce?” Rachel asked, looking at them over the rim of her glasses.

“Uh, that- that’d be me. I’m Gareth,” the curly haired boy said, nervously.

“You’re my fave kid,” Rachel declared, nodding once.

“She’s Jewish,” Dottie said, like that explained everything and to Gareth, it did. “She’s never cooked for me though.”

“You know I can’t cook, my kids don’t even let me make toast,” she laughed, and the boys smiled. So Rachel is the fun aunt.

“Okay, then who is the one that makes those great mixtapes you were talking about the other day?” Mary Elizabeth wondered.

“I guess that’s me?” Donny chuckled, the tips of his ears red. “I’m Donny. Congrats on the baby!”

“Oh, aren’t you a sweetheart,” she said. “He’s my fave.”

“Which one’s yours then, bug?” Rachel joked.

“Definitely Jeff,” Dottie said and the boy beamed.

“Hey! I’m right here!” Eddie complained dramatically.

“You’re Eddie, right?” Mary Elizabeth said; he nodded. “I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, you’re my husband’s favorite.”

“I am?”

“Yes! My husband was our DM, he thinks you’re very creative.”

“She’s married to Uncle Johnny,” Dottie told him. “The one that was in the bathroom picture from when I was a baby?”

“Ah, yes! Your Dad’s brother from a different father!” Eddie clapped once, knowing he got it right. “He knows about me?”

“Dorothy tells him about all your sessions,” Mary Elizabeth said. “Half of our friends don’t live in New York anymore so we haven’t played as much lately, he’s living vicariously through you guys at this point.”

“It’s great to meet you boys, but we should get going. We’re never gonna get to the shops in time if we keep dilly dallying,” Rachel said, ushering the girls towards the car.

“Okay, let me say goodbye first, damn,” Dottie got away from her insistent palms and headed straight into Donny’s arms. “I’m sorry about today.”

“Stop worrying about it. We’ll take care of each other.”

“You’re one of us, Dot. We got you,” Jeff said, joining the hug too. Gareth and Eddie looked at each other, shrugged once, and joined too.

“Go get your princess dress,” Eddie said, pulling away, not wanting to be clingy in front of her Aunts.

“Call when you get back?” Gareth asked as she walked away. “I wanna know what you got to see if we match!”

“When are you gonna be home?”

“Uhhh, around 8:30 maybe?”

“Gotcha. I’ll call around that time. Have fun, guys!”

“We’re still on for tomorrow, right?” Eddie wondered.

“Of course! Final stretch, Ed, you got this!”

Dottie got into the backseat of her Aunts’ rented car and waved to her friends as they sped away, Pat Benatar’s Invincible filling the air with girlish excitement. Andy fucking Humphrey didn’t matter anymore, not when Mary Elizabeth was singing along to the radio without a single care in the world and Rachel laughed like they were in their 20s again heading down to the beach in her brother’s old Jeep. All that was left, was to find the perfect dress and Dottie could finally convince herself that despite her major fuck up, everything would turn out fine.

They could not, in fact, find the perfect dress. They couldn't find any dress, actually, because if they were the right color, the size was wrong, and if the size was right, then it didn't come in Hellfire colors. Auntie Rachel had announced she was paying for the dress, and Aunt Mary Elizabeth and Uncle Johnny were paying for the shoes. But without the dress, there were no shoes, and without dress and shoes, Dottie couldn't spend the money her Dad had given her on accessories, and every minute that ticked on, she was closer and closer to auditioning for a Playboy centerfold at prom like Gareth had joked about.

Everyone was aware that prom was a sensitive topic for Dottie, and there wasn’t a single reason as to why it was that way. Past bad experiences coupled with the knowledge of yet another milestone she wasn’t sharing with her mother were bound to make anyone’s heart feel tender, so after Rachel noticed the decline in her niece's mood, she declared that they were taking a break from the prom-related shopping and instead let Dottie pick any shop in the immediate commercial area to explore. This wasn't an unusual activity for the girls; they had spent many afternoons browsing weird stores and open air markets, gathering silly little trinkets and handmade goods to bring back to their homes with tired feet and satisfied smiles. Dottie looked around mildly interested and clocked a big thrift shop with what looked like a comfy red couch in the middle of the store to her right, deciding to go in so Mary Elizabeth could rest her swollen ankles for a bit.

The shop was quirky, to say the least. Dottie loved thrift shops, having spent most of her early childhood browsing through rows and rows of clothes picking new tops and bottoms for the school year. Mary Elizabeth knew how to sew, and she'd taught Dottie basic skills like how to hem pants or how to tighten up the waistband on a too-big-skirt - a thrift shop was a treasure trove for creative and resourceful eyes. Rachel was distracted showing Mary Elizabeth baby clothes while the latter rubbed her growing belly on the couch when Dottie saw it. Red glittering chiffon, sweetheart neckline with delicate ruffles at the top and the bottom, and a full skirt that looked straight out of a fairytale.

A few years ago, back in 1982 when she was barely a freshman in high school, Dottie had seen in one of her Auntie Rachel's magazines a picture of one of the prettiest women she had ever laid eyes on. The woman was Lady Diana Spencer, Princess of Wales, and the magazine had run a full issue about her style and fashion choices, calling her an icon and praising her usage of patterns and bold colors. She remembered that in one of the pictures, Lady Diana had been wearing a red Bellville Sassoon dress during a night out at Covent Garden, and that she'd found it so beautiful she'd asked Rachel if she could keep the magazine because she wanted to wear a dress like that one day. That same dress, or one that looked very much like it, was currently staring back at Dottie from the very back of a rack full of poofier and tackier formal dresses.

"Found something you like, bug?" Rachel asked, coming to stand behind her with her hands on her niece's shoulders.

"I think... I think Lady Di is sending me a signal," she muttered breathlessly.

"What?"

Dottie walked up to the rack, almost scared to touch the dress in case it disappeared, but when her fingers buried themselves into fine chiffon, she pulled the dress off the hanger and pressed it to her body in awe.

"It's the dress, Auntie Rach. Remember? The Lady Di Covent Garden gown! With the black cape and silver shoes!"

"I can't say I remember, bug, but you like this one? Do you want to try it on?"

"I can't see a tag," Dottie said, frowning. "I don't know if it's my size."

"Go try it on anyway, we'll find an employee," Mary Elizabeth said, getting excited at the prospect of having found a miracle dress.

It was mere minutes later when both Aunts and an older lady that worked at the store wearing khaki pants and a name tag that said Cynthia heard a soft "holy shit" coming from behind one of the changing booth's curtains. It opened to reveal a dumbfounded Dottie, looking like a princess herself in the floor-length glittery gown.

"How does it fit, sweetie?" asked Cynthia.

"It's... it's perfect? The skirt is a little bit long but everything else is... yeah, it's perfect."

"Never mind the skirt, I can hem that for you in a couple of hours. And it's red, just how you wanted, right?" Mary Elizabeth said.

"Yeah, it's the shade of red I wanted," Dottie said. The dress was the exact same shade of Eddie's tie. "How much is it?"

"I don't think we put a price on this one yet," Cynthia said. "It came in late yesterday and I haven't gotten around to it. This woman came in and dropped three boxes full of stuff on us, said she was moving away and couldn't take everything with her. You’re a really lucky girl!”

“I think I am,” Dottie mumbled, looking at herself in the mirror while she lifted the skirt up to fit her better.

“Okay, how about we go see if there’s anything else you like while Rachel gets this sorted out for you, huh? Maybe we can find some cute shoes to go with it!” said Mary Elizabeth, staring pointedly at Rachel with a clear message: Get her the dress before she can overthink it and convince herself she doesn’t deserve it because the price isn’t right.

With the help of Mary Elizabeth (and Rosie, who was being very active today), a full outfit was put together rather quickly. A gold round sparkly handbag was added to the pile, along with gold kitten heels and a dainty gold necklace with a single white glittery stone. Dottie knew exactly what other pieces from her own jewelry box she was gonna wear: her Mom’s wedding ring and earrings, simple, classy, and meaningful. A way to keep Margaret close on a very special moment. Also on their checkout pile were a handful of baby clothes for Rosie, a Spider-Man backpack for Rachel’s youngest son, a couple of 70s loose dresses for Mary Elizabeth’s growing belly, and a pair of jean shorts and two new shirts for Dottie. She saved a bit of the money James had given her to buy more yarn for the blanket she was knitting for Rose, and after all that shopping, the three girls were hungry and desperately in need of a place to sit down. Rachel pointed to a nearby pub that looked fairly empty, and they made their way towards the building with happy hearts and spirits thoroughly lifted.

While Dottie was on her girls’ day out, Eddie was fidgeting in his theater seat. He knew that he was gonna have to share her with her Aunts all weekend, and he was scared about what they’d think of him constantly invading her personal space. They looked nice enough, and he was aware that Rachel herself was a bit of a freak - she had, after all, seen Rocky Horror live as many times as Dottie herself had - but there was still some part of him that kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things were going entirely too well for him, and he wasn’t used to that.

During the week, he’d tested out a few more theories he had about Dot and was now more certain than ever that he had an opening with her. It had been rainy and cold on Monday, and he’d slipped the flannel he had tied around his hip on her shoulders before second period began; she’d worn it all day and he’d caught her burrowing into it during lunch while she waited for him to get his tray. On Tuesday, she’d brought Wayne homemade banana bread, and on Thursday, she’d asked Eddie to hang out in their spot at Lover’s Lake for a bit before bringing her home, saying she needed to clear her head. They’d sat side by side with legs dangling off the back of his van, and he’d tried teaching her to skip stones to no success. She’d snorted every time the rock sank into the water, and leaned into him when he stepped behind her and grabbed her hand to guide her through the correct motions. He would have kissed her right there and then, but he was convinced she deserved more than a lousy confession in a deserted clearing in the middle of the woods. So Eddie waited, knowing that graduation was only three Fridays away, and he was gonna sweep her off her feet while they wore their ugly black and green gowns and make her feel like the princess he thought he was.

Truth be told, he shouldn’t have been so worried, not when 45 minutes away Dottie sat in that Indianapolis pub, eyes glued to the small menu in her hands but mind in Hawkins, wondering what Eddie was gonna wear for prom besides the gorgeous tie Chrissy had gifted him. She was comparing pros and cons of him wearing a white or a black shirt when Rachel tapped the top of the laminated paper and brought her attention back to the table.

“Can’t decide?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Dottie said, sheepishly. “Which one do you think is better, the cheeseburger with bacon or the chicken stripes with BBQ sauce?”

“The cheeseburger sounds good. I’m getting the buffalo wings,” Mary Elizabeth said, rubbing her stomach. “Believe it or not, this girlie likes spicy things.”

“She’s gonna run circles around all of us,” Rachel said fondly. “I’m gonna get the Reuben. And a glass of wine.”

“Okay, I’ll go order then. Lemonade?” Dottie asked Mary Elizabeth, getting up to head into the bar area.

“Oooh, please!”

Dottie left her Aunts at the table with their shopping bags, and got in line at the register behind a middle aged man while she glanced around the pub. It was a good size, probably even a bit bigger than The Hideaway where she’d gone to play pool with her Dad and Uncles Rob and Joe while they were in town for her birthday. There was a jukebox near the entrance, and a low small stage to the right with a lone mic and stool. A tired looking young man was putting up a poster advertising the weekend’s shows near the bar area. It was a cozy place, probably a cheap hangout spot for college students to relax at after a long week of studying and working. Behind the bar counter was an attractive young woman with wild, crimped raven hair and bold makeup.

“What can I get for you?”

“Hi! Can I get a cheeseburger with bacon, a Reuben, buffalo wings, two lemonades and a glass of wine? Red, please.”

“Uh, you’re not over 21, are you?”

“No, I’m 18, but it’s not for me. It’s for my Aunt, we’re sitting over there,” Dottie pointed at the two older women.

“Good. I’ll get a server to bring you your order when it’s done. Normally I wouldn’t care about the age thing, but it’s still kinda early, y’know?” the girl said, punching a few buttons on the till. “Gotta wait until the sun goes down to start ignoring IDs.”

“I imagine most college kids around here are grateful for that, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, it gets busy after 8. You don’t go to IUPUI?”

“No, I’m not from Indy. I’m going to Michigan next year.”

“State?”

“UMich. You?”

“Final year at Purdue. Forensic science,” she shrugged. “You look like an English major.”

“That was my second choice, actually. Decided on being an elementary school teacher.”

“Yikes. Good luck with that,” the girl laughed. “I’m the oldest of six so kids… not my jam.”

“I’m an only child so, kids? Totally my jam.”

“Figures. I’m Jessie,” the girl said, putting out her hand for a shake. Her dark apron moved revealing half of a logo on the front of her shirt Dottie would recognize anywhere: Metallica.

“I’m Dottie. I’ve got a question for you, if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“How do I get a really cool band up on that stage?”

“You in a band, teach?” Jessie grinned.

“No, my friends are. They’ve got a regular gig in our town, I think you might like them.”

“Yeah? What’s their name?”

“Corroded Coffin. They play metal covers mostly, but they’ve got a few originals too.”

“You their manager or something?”

“Maybe,” Dottie smiled. “I know next week’s setlist if that helps convince you.”

“Go for it.”

Dottie began ratting off the list she’d heard them put together on Wednesday, which included Black Sabbath, Mötorhead, Judas Priest, Dio, and the lone Anthrax song Gareth had insisted on for ten minutes before they relented and said yes. She mentioned how they also played Metallica and Iron Maiden regularly, and were known to crank out a Mötley Crüe song or two upon request without admitting that she was the one doing the requesting, much to Eddie’s chagrin. Jessie listened, nodding approvingly with her arms crossed. She had a snake tattooed around her left upper arm peeking out from her black t-shirt, and Dottie thought it might be the coolest tattoo she’d seen in her entire life.

“Okay, teach. I’m convinced. Let me see when we’ve got an opening.”

Jessie grabbed a battered notebook from under the counter and pulled a pen out of her apron, quietly muttering to herself as she flicked pages. Dottie turned to her Aunts who were eyeing her with interest. The Dorothy they knew didn’t talk to strangers, at least not willingly. She hated small talk, only engaging in it if an old lady started it in order to not come across as rude, but had developed the ability to quickly direct the conversation to non-personal topics like the weather or the price of the bag of oranges the old lady was purchasing. Seeing their niece chit chatting like it was something common she did all the time was downright strange, even if it was a welcome sight. How much had living in Hawkins truly changed her? Did it have anything to do with the boys hanging out with her in the school’s parking lot?

“Earliest spot we’ve got is at the end of June,” Jessie said, grimacing.

“Oh, that’s perfect! That’s after graduation, we’re totally free during June.”

“Friday, June 27th is okay then?”

“Absolutely, yes!”

“We can pay $25 per performer and you can have free drinks all night, but we’ll cut you off if anyone gets too drunk. How many are there in the band?” she asked, writing Corroded Coffin under the aforementioned date.

“Just four. Two guitarists, one drummer, one bassist. We have to bring our own equipment, right?”

“Yeah, all that’s on you. Are you all under 21?”

“Yes, lead guitar is the oldest and he’s 20.”

“They’ve got one hour divided into two chunks with a ten minute break in the middle, shows start at 9:30 usually. You’re coming with them? We can pay you after the set’s done, I’ll keep a free table for you guys at the front. You can watch them from there, we don’t have a green room.”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you, Jessie.”

“Here,” Jessie gave her a napkin with the bar’s info. “Call that number if you need to cancel or reschedule. If they tell you I’m not around, ask for Mark, he’s the day shift manager.”

“Okay, I will. See you in a month then! They won’t disappoint you, I promise!”

“I’m counting on it, teach!”

She came back to the table with an unprecedented giddiness, or at least, nothing her Aunts had ever seen in a long time. Dottie explained her conversation with Jessie the night shift manager while they waited for their food, and when it had arrived, her Aunts grilled her for more information about her friends and their band. She explained what each of them did within Corroded Coffin, taking the time to praise them separately for their skills, mentioning Eddie’s recent songwriting knack and Gareth’s future career as a trained percussionist. She told them in confidence that Jeff was thinking of joining a choral ensemble in West Virginia, excited about the prospect of traveling to perform around the States. Her Aunts let her talk as much as she wanted until the sun had gone down, the college students started showing up, and after a quick bathroom visit, it was finally time for them to leave. They were walking back to the car when Dottie spotted a payphone and began rummaging through her backpack.

“Hold on, let me- I gotta make a phone call!” she told her Aunts, speeding away towards the cabin with her coin purse in her hand.

“Do you get the feeling someone exchanged our Dorothy for a new one?” Rachel asked, following her niece at a much slower pace.

“She’s happy here,” Mary Elizabeth simply said.

“Did you ever notice she was that unhappy back in New York? What was going on under our noses? How couldn’t we tell?”

“That doesn’t matter now. Let her have this. She deserves it.”

“Hello, Mrs. Coleman? It’s Dottie!” the teen said into the phone, both Aunts trying to eavesdrop from outside the cabin. “I know Gareth is still at The Hawk, but could you tell him to come to my house as soon as he arrives? Everything’s okay, I just have good news I want to share with him. Yes, thank you! And could you please tell him to bring the guys around too? I think I’ll be home at around 9 probably, so- okay. Okay, thank you! Sorry to have bothered you at this hour, have a good night!”

“Your friends are coming over?” Rachel asked when she hung up.

“Yeah,” Dottie grinned, and for a brief second, they could have sworn it wasn’t her but Margaret the one who was smiling at them.

A girl’s road trip was never complete without gossiping, and Rachel was showing an incredible amount of restraint when she waited until they had passed the "Leaving Indianapolis - Come Again Soon" sign to lower the radio's volume; Mary Elizabeth looked at her with confusion in her eyes when Madonna’s Angel was cut short halfway into the song.

"So. We've got 45 minutes until we’re back in Hawkins. Gonna tell us what's going on with that Gareth kid or what?"

"Rachel!" Mary Elizabeth chastised.

"There's literally nothing going on. I don't know why you're even asking."

"You called last week to tell me all about the little sleepover you two had and you expect me to not be curious? You’ve been talking about him all day, bug."

"As you know, because I told you about it, we worked on a science project during that sleepover, which we got an A+ on. That's it, I don't see him like that," Dottie said. "Besides, we'd kill each other if we decided to date. He made me see The Exorcist last weekend, I would have murdered him if I didn’t fear prison."

"Hey, that's a good movie!" Mary Elizabeth said, and Rachel looked at her like she was insane. "What? Okay, yes, it's disturbing, but it's a good movie. It's well done."

"You worry me sometimes," Rachel told her before looking at Dottie through the rearview mirror. "You two had a movie night and he picked a horror flick?"

"It wasn't just us. Everyone else was there too, it was Eddie's birthday."

"Aw, that sounds fun. Did you have a good time?" Mary Elizabeth asked, turning in her seat to watch her niece's face.

"Yeah! I mean, the movie sucked and I think I had a panic attack for two hours straight, but we had ice cream later and saw Rocky Horror. That part was good,” she had a wistful look on her face as she looked out the window, remembering Eddie’s birthday.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Actually, everything's been really nice," Dottie laughed. "I just… I didn't know having friends was supposed to make you feel this good."

"Oh, baby," Mary Elizabeth reached out to grab her hand. "You really love those boys, don't you?"

"I do. And I really think they love me too. I don't feel lonely anymore when I’m with them."

"That's good, baby. I'm so happy for you. We were so scared after what happened last year, that awful girl was just-"

"It doesn't matter anymore,” Dottie shook her head. “I don't want to talk about that."

"So nothing's going on?" Rachel asked, but this time her tone was much more soft. “With any of them?”

"They are my friends. Best ones I've ever had," Dottie smiled. “I’d tell you if something was happening with Gareth, but there’s nothing there. I promise.”

“If you say so, bug,” Rachel said. “Johnny was once Mary Elizabeth’s best friend too, you know.”

“Oh, drop it, you nosy old lady,” Mary Elizabeth poked her.

“Who are you calling old?! We’re the same age, flower power!”

During the short trip back to Hawkins, somewhere between being grilled about one of her best friends and Rachel missing the correct exit, Dottie had dozed off in the back of the car while Sade’s Smooth Operator played in the background. Mary Elizabeth had taken off her sandals and propped her feet up on the dashboard, looking out at the quaint little houses and quiet downtown area, wondering if Rosie would like growing up in a place like this instead in the busy city she was so fond of. Rachel pulled into Dottie’s street and saw a familiar old van parked outside her home, four boys hanging out in the front lawn and James leaning onto the front door frame, all engaged in friendly conversation.

“Baby?” Mary Elizabeth called, rousing Dottie. “Your friends are here.”

Dottie opened her eyes, expression caught between drowsiness and excitement when they parked outside the house, all five men turning to look at them when they got out.

“Shopping went well, I see,” James smiled, looking at their bags dangling from their arms.

“Told you to leave it to us, Jamie-boy,” Rachel said, coming to hug her old friend.

“Everything okay?” Gareth asked, anxious. “My Mom didn’t tell me what was going on, just that you called from Indy.”

“Everything’s fine, something really cool happened and I didn’t want to wait until Monday to tell you about it,” Dottie yawned, locking arms with him and Donny. “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you.”

The boys walked in behind her towards the living room where she motioned for them to sit. The adults headed towards the kitchen for a nightcap, keeping an eye and an ear on the kids. James had no idea what was going on, but Rachel had simply shaken her head when he lifted his eyebrow in inquiry and pointed at the teens. Mary Elizabeth busied herself making coffee for her two friends and tea for herself, smiling in anticipation.

“Okay, so. We went to this pub to get dinner,” Dottie began, taking the napkin Jessie had given her out of her pocket and giving it to Jeff. “It’s a really cool place, not too big, but I really liked it and the food was great.”

“What did you have?”

“Cheeseburger with bacon. They cut their own fries and leave the skin on them.”

“Sick,” Jeff nodded.

“I was thinking we should all go together soon. Maybe on Friday, June 27th.”

“Why?” said Gareth suspiciously. “What’s happening on Friday, June 27th?”

“There’s this awesome band that’s gonna play there. You might have heard of it, it’s called Corroded Coffin.”

The room was filled with an awkward silence for a few seconds while they processed what they just heard before all of them erupted in questions and screams at the same time. Dottie laughed, and held up her palms trying to contain the situation, but the cat was out of the bag and she was all too happy to share all the details with her friends.

“You got us a gig?” Donny asked, coming up to her in disbelief.

“I got you a gig!” she confirmed, and Gareth began hollering. “You’ve got an hour-long set, divided in two chunks. Drinks are free the whole night but you can’t drunk, and they’re gonna pay you guys $25 each-”

“They are paying us?!” Jeff asked while Gareth shook him. “They never pay us at The Hideout!”

“You’re the fucking best!” Donny declared, lifting Dottie up and swinging her in the air, making her laugh.

“That’s so cool,” James said in the kitchen, browsing his pantry for sugar to add to his coffee. “I’m happy for them, they are good kids.”

Rachel and Mary Elizabeth didn’t reply; they were locked onto the scene in front of them. When Donny put Dottie down, Jeff and Gareth immediately came to hug her too, each on one side. They all began talking at the same time, shouting songs they wanted to include in the set, things they needed to do before the big day arrived, planning how they were gonna go, who was gonna drive, how much money they needed to pool to pay for the gas. None of that was as interesting as what happened when it was Eddie’s turn to hug their niece.

He was so quiet as he came up to her, it almost looked like he was choking back tears. Without words exchanged, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her towards his chest where she instantly tucked her head into, her own hands ghosting upwards from his waist to the middle of his back where she clung to his shirt. This wasn’t an excited, celebratory hug. This was so much more, and yet none of the boys paid them any attention, like this was common enough for it to not be something to look at anymore. Eddie’s hand came up to cradle her head, and they pulled away for a few seconds, staring into each other’s eyes with matching elated smiles pulling at the corners of their mouths. For a single heartbeat, Dottie’s Aunts thought Eddie was going to pull her into a kiss but his lips collided with her forehead instead and stayed there like it was their rightful place. Dottie exhaled, melting into the rugged boy’s arms, their eyes closed, both of them savoring the moment. His hand moved from the back of her head to the side of her jaw, foreheads coming together and they saw her hand wrap around his wrist before the boy mouthed a quiet “thank you”.

Like nothing had happened, they unentangled themselves from each other and joined the festivities, him excitedly patting Donny’s back before they embraced with boyish roughness, her plopping onto the same armchair Jeff was sitting on to help brainstorm the setlist. Rachel turned to Mary Elizabeth only to find her friend already staring at her.

“Oh,” Mary Elizabeth said, lifting an eyebrow.

“Oh, indeed,” said Rachel, and they both silently agreed to not speak of it in front of James until they’d gotten their chance to debrief later that night.

taglist (comment below or shoot me a dm if you want to be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean

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inairbinad · 11 months

Text

Steve's Got a Date With a Vampire! (2)

part two of seven (I added a lil epilogue) Read on AO3 | [Part One] warnings: just y'know, blood. it might be rated explicit but we are far from that point.

Steve was sweating. Partly because it was already hot in Hawkins (despite the fact that it wasn’t even June yet), and partly because he was spending his afternoon watching Eddie Munson lounge shirtless by his pool.

Normally, he’d have hogged the pool to himself and Robin if he thought he could get away with it, just for the peace and quiet. But Dustin insisted on Steve’s throwing a pool party, and then he’d insisted harder on Eddie being invited.

Steve saw right through Dustin’s little matchmaking games, but he didn’t put much stock in them. It’s not like he wouldn’t have invited Eddie anyway. And it certainly wasn’t as if just being thrown together by Dustin’s meddling would make Eddie see Steve as anything more than a friend at best, a former enemy at worst. Unfortunately.

Eddie showed up to the party with Nancy, and they both immediately set up beneath Steve’s best patio umbrella. The two of them were growing increasingly inseparable these days, like they were competing with Steve and Robin for the codependency award of 1986. Or at least, Steve hoped that was all it was. He couldn’t help but wonder if Eddie had moved on to crushing on Nance now that all of his speeches about how she and Steve were true love had so obviously not panned out.

The thought twisted in Steve’s gut unpleasantly.

He’s not yours, idiot, Steve told himself as he went inside to try to get his shit together. He grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, pressed one to the back of his neck to feel the cold relief of it, and swore to himself that he could act fucking normal.

That went out the window when Steve went back outside, and Eddie started stripping. What made it worse was that Eddie seemed to wait for Steve’s approach before he peeled his t-shirt off, then smirked in Steve’s direction.

So he was in the mood to torture Steve some more today. Great. Steve squared his shoulders and walked over to offer Nance and Eddie each a beer.

“Glad you guys came,” Steve greeted them with the best charming smile he could muster. Nancy took her can with a little nod in thanks, but Eddie just looked down at Steve’s hand, then bit down on a smile.

“Not much point in my drinking that,” Eddie pointed out, extending his fangs for good measure.

“Oh, shit.” Steve wanted to kick himself for being so clueless. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Harrington,” Eddie laughed and threw an arm around Steve’s bare shoulders. The contact was searing, despite how cool Eddie’s skin was. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Sure,” Steve coughed. He deliberately avoided Nancy’s eye by popping the tab open on his own beer and taking a sip himself. “Let me know if I can get you anything…else.”

Nancy tried to hide a laugh behind a cough, but Steve heard how it sounded like he was offering himself up as a cocktail for Eddie without any of her help. He was going to need an exit plan before he made any more of a fool of himself.

Steve could have sworn he used to be good at flirting. He didn’t know why Eddie made him feel like his tongue was three sizes too big for his mouth, and like any words that managed to come tumbling out wouldn’t make any sense.

Maybe it was the way Eddie leaned into Steve’s ear and murmured, “I’m sure you’d taste very sweet, Stevie, but I’m good.”

Steve didn’t even know if he managed to squeak out an excuse, let alone how, but eventually he ran back to where things were safe near Robin.

“You look like you’re going to spontaneously combust.” Robin openly laughed at him, immediately proving it wasn’t as safe with her as Steve thought.

“Shut up,” he muttered, upset more with himself than Robin. “I don’t know why I’m so bad at this all of a sudden.”

“All of a sudden?” Robin asked, eyebrows shooting up beneath her bangs. “Need I remind you of the copious amounts of ‘You Suck’ tallies last summer? Or the final big one, when you tried to hit on me?”

“Oh my god,” Steve groaned. “For the last time, I was high.”

“I have a theory, actually,” Robin said, ignoring him completely. “I think your capacity to flirt well was directly correlated to how much of an asshole you were. Now that you’re all nice and sweet—“ Steve visibly flinched when she said that word in such close succession to Eddie practically purring it in his ear, “you just lack the skills to woo anyone.”

“That is the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Steve said without missing a beat. Robin just shrugged.

“Prove me wrong, then.”

Steve sulked in his chair for a while, trying to come up with a plan to do just that. He could always go for a swim and deliberately walk past Eddie on his way out of the pool, shirtless, sun kissed, wet and in no rush to find a towel. It seemed a little basic, but Steve figured it was worth a shot. It would get him warmed up, anyway.

By the time Steve worked up the determination to do it, though, Eddie beat him to the punch. Just as the sun dipped low enough in the sky to not shine directly on the back yard anymore, Eddie emerged from under the umbrella and dove headfirst into the deep end. When he came back up for air, he was soaked through and looked more beautiful than any work of art Steve had ever seen.

Steve couldn’t tear his eyes off of the way Eddie’s muscles moved as he pushed his now drenched hair out of his face and smiled dangerously in the direction of the boys playing Marco Polo.

“You’re in for it now, kiddos,” Eddie warned them before showing off some impressive swimming skills to zero in on Lucas, who laughed with such delight as Eddie chased him around the pool it made Steve’s heart clench.

“I’ll get us more beer,” Robin said right away, reading Steve’s pout without difficulty. He grunted out a thanks and went back to brainstorming how to stop getting trounced in a sport he used to be the king of.

The problem, Steve was starting to realize, was that he was more invested in this than Eddie was, in terms of the outcome. Steve used to enjoy flirting for the hell of it, sure, but this ran deeper. This time he had feelings for Eddie, intense and real in a way that Steve could hardly grapple with. If this was all just a game to Eddie, Steve wasn’t sure he could bear to play it.

No sooner than he had the thought, Eddie glanced over his shoulder in Steve’s direction, laughing and carefree as he played with the kids. The way Eddie’s smile softened into something fond when his eyes landed on Steve made him decide that maybe the risk was worth it.

Just as Robin returned with another, Steve finished his drink and shook out his shoulders. He had to make an effort at least. He was a jock, after all. He wasn’t going to take a loss lying down.

So he dove into the pool and joined the game.

It took about fifteen minutes before Steve really found his opportunity to put some points back on the board. Tired of Marco Polo, the kids suggested a new game they called ‘Noodle Jousting,’ that needed someone to be the horse, and for their partner to ride their shoulders and try to knock an opposing rider off of their horse with a pool noodle.

It was ridiculous, and it was perfect. Steve paddled up behind Eddie, making as little noise or disturbance in the water as he could, until he could grapple onto the bottom of the pool with his toes, standing just behind Eddie’s shoulder.

“What are you up to, Harrington?” Eddie asked without turning. Steve should have known there was no such thing as sneaking up on a vampire, but he shrugged it off and pressed on. He leaned in closer, nearly resting his chin on top of Eddie’s shoulder.

“I say we team up and kick their asses,” Steve murmured in Eddie’s ear. Steve felt Eddie’s shoulders lift as he huffed out a laugh without responding otherwise. So Steve pushed in a fraction closer, resting a hand on Eddie’s lower back under the surface of the water. “What do you say, partner?”

Steve felt like he’d won the lottery when Eddie’s breath hitched, just barely. Eddie turned his head to face Steve, until their noses almost touched.

“Oh, I’m in,” he agreed with a wicked smile.

No one noticed their alliance until after everyone else had already paired off.

“Hey!” Mike was the first to complain. “You two can’t be a team. You’ll crush us!”

“That’s not a very sportsmanlike spirit, Wheeler,” Eddie chastised.

“You’ve got super strength! And Steve’s a grown man! It’s an unfair advantage,” Mike whined. “Back me up, Dustin?”

All Dustin could manage was a gleeful smile at the development between Steve and Eddie, though, and Mike ended up turning to Lucas for help.

“It is kind of lopsided,” Lucas shrugged.

“Do you want to play like men?” Eddie challenged them. “Or boys?”

Lucas and Mike exchanged a glance at that, unsure how to answer. If Eddie was a godly role model to them before, it had only multiplied since he turned into a cool mythical creature. Steve hid his smile behind Eddie’s shoulder.

“We can take ‘em,” Will spoke up, sounding confident and giving Mike’s arm a reassuring pat. Only at Will’s urging did Mike seem to accept his fate. Lucas didn’t seem all that invested either way, so the matter was settled.

Max—not yet healed enough to swim, but more than happy to judge—offered to referee the whole affair. Her eyesight was well-recovered enough to judge other people’s idiocy, she was happy to report. She made El swear not to cheat using her powers, and Eddie swear not to be too strong or fast, if he could help it. Then the partners were set—Steve and Eddie, Will and Mike, Lucas and Dustin, El and Erica, Nancy and Robin—but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still bickering between partners about who was a horse and who was a rider.

“So I’m riding you, right?” Steve guessed, entirely intentional in his phrasing. Eddie only smirked back at him.

“I don’t know, Stevie, you look like a bottom to me.”

Steve felt the very fibers of his muscles sing as he took that line in stride. He finally felt like he was loosening up into their banter.

“Pretty sure that still means I’d be riding you,” Steve quipped with a wink. Even Eddie, king of the smooth talkers, didn’t seem to have a comeback for that one. As he opened and closed his mouth without speaking several times, Steve took his advantage and ran with it. He reached out and squeezed Eddie’s bicep, fluttering his lashes a little as he spoke. “Besides, I’m flexible. And you’re definitely stronger.”

“I—“ Eddie stared at Steve’s hand, still wrapped around his arm. Steve made sure to let his fingers drag across Eddie’s skin as he slowly let go, reveling in Eddie’s stutter. “Alright.”

Practically soaring on that victory alone, Steve didn’t give a single fuck about the jousting, but it did end up being pretty fun. Everyone got their turns, eliminating other pairs tournament style. Steve had extra fun knocking Nancy off of Robin’s shoulders, based on how Robin flipped him off alone.

It was almost sunset by the time there were only two pairs left. Eddie and Steve—who was managing to get through this just fine, despite how Eddie’s iron grip on his thighs left a crackling thrum beneath Steve’s skin—versus Lucas and Dustin. Even though Dustin was short in stature, he had the strength of an ox. He was like a tank beneath Lucas, who was nimble and athletic as hell. They’d been knocking off opponents with little fanfare this entire time.

They went through several rounds of Steve and Lucas swatting at each other to no avail. Once, Dustin kicked out a leg and tried to trip Eddie as they passed, and Eddie cried foul while Dustin wore a face that was the picture of innocence. Since it happened entirely underwater, no one impartial could confirm or deny that Dustin had done it. So they went again.

“We’ve got this one,” Steve told Eddie as he gave his scalp a little scratch. He sensed Eddie’s eyes peering up at him. “I can feel it.”

“Is that your best jock pep talk?” Eddie chuckled, and Steve rode the wave of Eddie’s laughter as his shoulders hitched again. He folded himself farther forward so he could see Eddie’s face.

“I could do a little cheer, if you prefer,” Steve offered with a smile.

Eddie bit down on a smile. “That won’t be necessary.”

Eddie gave the outside of Steve’s leg a slap and then, completely to Steve’s astonishment, Eddie bit down on the sensitive flesh of Steve’s thigh. Despite the fact that it was barely above his knee and how it hardly left a mark, the gentle scrape of Eddie’s teeth flustered Steve enough that Lucas had no trouble toppling him off of Eddie’s shoulders. He went tumbling into the water with a splash, still dazed.

Lucas and Dustin did a victory lap while Steve shook the excess water out of his hair and tried to process what the fuck just happened.

Eddie swam over with an apologetic yet smug grin, and Steve realized what game Eddie had been trying to win all along. Eddie didn’t care if they lost the joust, he just wanted to win the war of teasing Steve out of whatever wits he had left.

“You—“ Steve stuttered, incredulous, even though he knew he’d have done the same thing if he’d thought of it.

Eddie’s eyes widened with glee as he realized Steve wasn’t going to back down now. Steve advanced on Eddie, slowly at first, and then launched forward at just the right moment to dunk Eddie’s head beneath the water. Eddie was quick to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist and drag him down with him.

They play wrestled underwater, a tangle of limbs and silent, bubbling giggles between them, before they floated back to the surface. They emerged as a picturesque cliche—breathless and entirely too close to one another.

Steve could see a certain hunger in Eddie’s eyes, and he wondered if maybe this wasn’t a fruitless flirtation after all.

“If you wanted us to lose, all you had to do was ask,” Steve said, before leaning in a fraction further. “I can be very obedient.”

Steve took in every intricate detail of the effect that comment had on Eddie’s face. It was like watching a movie play out across his features—and a dirty one at that. Eddie’s thick eyelashes blinked around his rapidly darkening gaze, and his lips pursed ever so slightly as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Eddie laughed like he couldn’t quite believe his ears. Steve couldn’t quite believe his mouth, but pride surged through him anyway. Steve had created that look, and it didn’t even take a whole lot of effort.

But then Eddie pulled away, so far out of Steve’s space that he felt the emptiness like an ache. Eddie fixed him with a look that would have made Steve fall over, if he weren’t currently buoyed by the pool’s water.

“Game on, Stevie,” Eddie said like a promise before climbing out of the pool and giving his hair a shake. Steve couldn’t help but watch the cascade of it in the fading daylight. Eddie grabbed a towel, turned to Nancy and said, “Swimming sure does make me hungry.”

Then he tossed a wink in Steve’s direction before he pranced in the house and disappeared.

Despite the cool water, Steve felt his whole chest flush. He scrambled out of the pool and over to Robin’s side.

“Maybe I was wrong,” Robin admitted once Steve was beside her. “That was quite a show.”

Steve chewed his cheek, eager to take the win, but instinctively knowing that he didn’t have it in hand yet. “I don’t think the show’s over, quite yet.”

Robin opened her mouth, probably to ask why, but she was cut off as Eddie made his way back out onto the patio with a snack.

Already sucking it between his perfectly stained-red lips, Eddie had a popsicle.

Made out of blood.

Steve thought he might pass out as he watched Eddie—still not really dried off at all—sprawl out on his lounge chair again. He left one leg to dangle over the side, and crooked the other up perfectly casually at the knee so that he could rest his elbow there. The whole posture looked conveniently comfortable to hold the blood popsicle up his mouth, like maybe he’d planned the whole thing.

Eddie didn’t even bother to look in Steve’s direction, without a doubt already knowing that Steve would be watching (and in danger of dropping dead right there on the patio). Eddie took his time savoring it, before he finally hollowed out his cheeks as he sucked most of the popsicle into his mouth in one go.

That was the moment he turned to make direct eye contact with Steve.

Steve was both entirely too aware of his body, and completely unaware of how to actually use it to either run away or jump on Eddie right then and there. He felt a little faint when Eddie fluttered his eyelashes for effect. Then he bit the tip off the popsicle and smiled wide, showing off his bloodstained fangs for all to see. For Steve to see.

It was completely obscene, disgusting even, and Steve had never been more turned on in his life.

Robin patted his shoulder like she was trying to comfort him, but Steve could very clearly hear her laughing at him, too. He just couldn’t see it, because his eyes were still glued to Eddie, and Eddie’s were glued to him.

“Well,” Robin chuckled. “At least you tried.”

———

Once everyone had their fill of pool games and goddamn popsicles, they moved inside and turned Steve’s living room into a makeshift movie theater. Steve put as much distance between himself and Eddie as he could manage, unable to take anymore of Eddie’s ace cards tonight. The more Steve thought about it, the more bewildered he became over the forethought and effort it must have taken Eddie to show up to his house with a blood popsicle at the ready. Eddie must have kept it in his back pocket for hours, waiting for the perfect moment to use it and turn Steve to mush.

That kind of planning didn’t scream “harmless flirting” to Steve anymore, but he wasn’t sure he could quite trust his own deduction skills at the moment. He still felt like most of his own blood was somewhere very south of his brain.

So Steve planted himself in the corner of the room where Eddie wasn’t in his direct eye line, trying to think things through without getting distracted. But there was nothing for it. Unable to pay a lick of attention to whatever movie they were even watching, Steve retreated to the kitchen to try and clear his head.

Steve felt Eddie’s eyes on him as he left with a hurried excuse about making more popcorn. Instead of actually moving to do anything a good host might, though, Steve shuffled right up to the patio doors and thunked his head against cool glass. He stared out at the now serene and undisturbed water of the pool, wishing he could have a little bit of that calm for himself.

“You swore you wouldn’t make any more popcorn once Mike and Dustin started throwing it at each other, if I recall,” Robin said from behind him.

Steve snorted, barely even remembering making that threat about half an hour before. It was only half-hearted, more out of habit than any real intention. He felt Robin come up beside him and rest her fingers against the back of his neck to give him a reassuring little squeeze. He twisted to look at her with a grateful little smile.

“That feels nice, thanks,” Steve hummed. They stayed like that for a few moments, with Robin gently massaging some of the tension out of his shoulders and just letting Steve decompress for a minute. Robin always knew exactly when and how to calm him down, somehow. “I’m such a goner, Robs.”

“I know, dingus,” she soothed.

They were both startled out of the moment of peace when Dustin came stomping in after them. He settled in on Steve’s other side and somehow managed to yell while still whispering. “Why are you in here sulking instead of trying to get your man?”

“What are you even talking about, Henderson?” Steve sighed, but he was unsure why he was bothering trying to dodge the question at this point.

“Generally when someone flirts with you as much as Eddie does,” Dustin poked Steve in the chest to illustrate his point, “you’re supposed to make a move.”

Feeling unsure of himself, after having just lost his mind somewhere out in the pool, Steve chewed his lip and questioned whether that was actually the case here or not.

“Are we sure that’s what this is?” Steve asked both of them, desperate for reassurance but also kind of hoping they’d tell him he was nuts and Eddie was just messing around. It would be easier that way—easier if it was just Eddie torturing Steve a little bit as payback for years of King Steve torturing, well, not Eddie specifically, but people like him. It would hurt if that was the case, but Steve could accept that kind of karma, he thought. “I mean. He flirts with everybody. It’s just how he is.”

Dustin scoffed and Robin just stared at him with something like pity mixed with affection on her features.

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” she said, then patted his cheek.

“Fuck off,” Steve batted back with no real bite. “I’m serious.”

Robin sighed, apparently disappointed that Steve was going to need to have this explained to him, but she tried anyway.

“I mean, yeah, he’s a flirt,” she began, waving her hands about like she always did when she was trying to make a point. “But holy shit, Steve, how can you not know that—” she paused to point outside, like the patio would forever be remembered as the place where Eddie sucked off a popsicle for him, “—was different?”

“He isn’t like this with everyone,” Dustin continued the argument, apparently resolute not to elaborate further on what he’d just seen outside. Steve was grateful for that much. “He’s pulling out stops like he would if you were a goddamn campaign he was planning. That takes effort.”

“I don’t know—“

“You better do something, Steve Harrington,” Dustin’s face grew stone-cold serious as he cut Steve off. “If you lead him on I will have to hurt you.”

Steve didn’t doubt that for a second, so he got his hackles raised a little bit. Did Dustin even care if Eddie was leading Steve on? Or was Steve always meant to be the bad guy?

“Look, I didn’t tell you about my little crush for you to harass me about it,” Steve managed to grind out through his teeth. “Or threaten me over it.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes at Steve slightly, but seemed to catch on to what Steve was feeling, because he said, “I cannot believe the display you two have put on all day and neither of you has made out with the other one yet. I’ll get you two together if it kills me.”

Then he marched back off to the living room like a man on a mission.

“You told Dustin?” Robin whispered, incredulous at that little bit of information Steve had let slip. “Shit, you’ve got it bad if you’d subject yourself to that on purpose.”

“What does that mean? I told him in a moment of weakness,” Steve explained, not sure what she was getting at. “He thought I hated Eddie.”

“Or—and hear me out—“ Robin stared right at him, “you knew exactly how he’d stick his nose in the middle of your business, and you were looking for his help.”

“I—“ Steve opened his mouth to defend himself, but even if he hadn’t done it consciously, he knew Robin was probably right. He went back to pouting instead of admitting that he agreed, feeling pathetic that he’d enlisted Dustin’s help at all.

“Dustin was watching you two all day,” Robin informed him with a soft laugh. Steve wouldn’t have known if a three-headed demogorgon was watching them, because he had a laser focus on Eddie alone. “He looked like he was going to plotz he’s so happy.”

“Pluhts?” Steve asked.

“Plotz,” Robin nodded. “Burst. Explode. Expire from the sheer joy of his two favorite people getting together.”

“We’re not getting together,” Steve groaned stubbornly and moved over to dig his hidden pint of Ben and Jerry’s out of the freezer for them to commiserate over. Instead, the first thing he saw was the rest of Eddie’s collection of blood popsicles.

Robin snorted, and Steve wasn’t sure he could survive much more of this.

[PART THREE]

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #dani's drafts #vampire!eddie #steve's got a date

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marambl · 2 years

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Some folks still seem confused about the age difference with Eddie and Chrissy, the terminology about middle school, etc, even though Grace Van Dien has said at this point that Chrissy was 17/18. I worked in the US public school system for several years and have a masters degree in libraries and information, so researching is kind of my jam and I want to hopefully shed a little light on this because misinformation continues to be an issue.

First, US education terminology: “Middle school” in the US usually only refers to 6th-8th grades. “Junior high” is only 7th + 8th grade. High school is 9th-12th grades.

In 401, if we take the comments about Eddie repeating twice (“Didn’t you say that last year?” “And the year before that?”) at face value, here’s how the math works out with the academic calendar:

1979-1980: Eddie’s in 8th grade / Chrissy’s in 6th grade (this is the only year they could have been in middle school together)

1980-1981: Eddie is in 9th grade (freshman) / Chrissy’s in 7th grade

1981-1982: Eddie is in 10th grade (sophomore) / Chrissy’s in 8th grade

1982-1983: Eddie’s in 11th grade (junior) / Chrissy’s in 9th grade (freshman)

1983-1984: Eddie’s natural 12th grade (senior, aka “the year before”) / Chrissy is in 10th grade (sophomore)

1984-1985: Eddie’s first repeat (“last year”) of senior year / Chrissy is in 11th grade (junior)

1985-1986 | S4 : Eddie’s second repeat of senior year / Chrissy is also in 12th grade (senior)

So based on this, Eddie and Chrissy are 1-2 years apart and originally two grades apart. Like it or not, it was and is entirely normal for high schoolers to date other high schoolers who might be a grade or two below/above them.

High school ages: 14-18 are the traditional and normal age ranges for high schoolers. Sometimes a student may be on the younger side or the slightly older side (13 or 19), depending on when they were born, but it is not possible for Chrissy to be 16 and a senior. Why? Let me tell you about kindergarten entrance ages.

In 1975, Indiana’s kindergarten starting age was not standardized to 5 as the minimum age requirement - it was left up to the local education agencies. However, all four states that border Indiana had set age 5 as the state-wide kindergarten entrance age, so it’s likely that Indiana’s local districts also went by the “5″ rule. (And out of the five states that allowed children to attend kindergarten at age 4, four states required the child to be either 4 years and 8 months or 4 years and 9 months. My mom went to school in one of these states during this time period and was 4 years and 10 months when she started, in part because both her parents worked and there was no one to watch her, and she’s said people on the younger side like her was not the norm.)

Chrissy’s file, which some folks are, bafflingly, taking as gospel for everything, says she was born in June of either 1968 or 1969. If we say she was born in June 1969 like some people are insisting (and really, it’s so fuzzy, you can’t definitively say which number it is), there’s absolutely no way she would have met the entrance requirement for kindergarten, having JUST turned four. Had she been born in March or April of 1969, they may have allowed her in (though seeing as Chrissy’s mom appeared to be a homemaker, there was no need to send her to school so early), but a June 1969 birthday puts her way too young to be starting kindergarten in the 1973-1974 school year.

June 1968, on the other hand, lands her right at 5 years old, the exact age everybody else starts kindergarten, and makes her just 2-3 months shy of 18 in March 1986. Oh yeah, and why am I saying Chrissy is a senior?

Besides the fact that Chrissy, canonically, is the head cheerleader - ie, cheer captain - and this role is only bestowed on seniors, they also coded her as one. Everyone in the show who associates with “86″ is a senior:

In my opinion, a prominent prop that is part of the character’s costume is much more indicative of Chrissy’s senior status - rather than what is literally a throwaway prop that is barely legible, especially when this show is already riddled with production errors (most importantly/recently, Will’s birthday, not just once but twice).

This has gotten a big long (happy to share citations on anything if people want), so here we are.

TLDR: the birthday listed on a (quite possibly unreliable) throwaway prop is pretty illegible and people see what they want to see. But we know Chrissy is a senior, and based on actual kindergarten entrance age reqs in the 70s, this has to put her birthday in June of 1968 (not 1969) — meaning she is 17/almost 18 during season 4, not 16.

I get some people might not like the ship, and that’s fine - to each their own. But the age argument just holds no water, because Chrissy is clearly 17/18, so can we all just drop it and move on?

#chrissy cunningham #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #eddssy #grace van dien #munningham #eddissy defense squad #stranger things #st season 4 #text

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boybandbaby · 1 year

Text

Crazy For You

Summary: You're crazy for your best friend's boyfriend. Turns out you're just crazy stupid.

Word Count: 2663

Note: Inspired by Madonna's Crazy For You. Not edited.

You had been friends with Steve Harrington only a little less than a year but it had been the best almost year ever. Robin had introduced you both at the end of the summer 1986 before your senior year. You hadn’t known her long either, having met in passing at the movie theaters. Both of you were in line to see Stand By Me, alone, and had struck up a conversation. Steve had bailed on her last minute needing to help Dustin with something. Robin was annoyed with her friend but that slowly dwindled at the end of the night after making a new acquaintance. You both exchanged information and promised to hang out. Steve was skeptical that he was going to be replaced but when he met you two weeks after you met Robin, he knew you weren’t any competition.

Both Steve and Robin had found you pretty and fun to be around. Steve’s opinion was in a more friendly way but he knew that if anything were to come of your friendship and then turned sour, Robin would be forced to pick sides. He knew how much Robin loved having you as a friend and he wouldn’t hurt or damage that so he swallowed his new grown feelings and continued to build a strong friendship with you.

You on the other hand had a full blown crush on Steve who Robin described as the high school heart throb. You refrained from telling her about your crush because you assumed there was something between the two. Robin still hadn’t told you about her sexuality because she didn’t know how you would see her. She didn’t think you’d be rude or offensive to her but she had only come to terms with it recently and let Steve know.

Now here you were, June 1987, just having graduated from high school. Steve being the best friend ever had thrown a party for Robin, you and Eddie. You remember meeting Eddie and being instantly overwhelmed with his bold and interesting personality. He was a great friend though but not as close as you were with Robin and Steve. You’d obviously met their other friends, both around your age and much younger. Steve has refused to let the young ones join in on the party but Eddie promised to not let them get into any of the alcohol and keep them away from the smoking. Steve not being able to stop 7 kids from entering his house, rolled his eyes and moved aside.

You were a couple drinks in, just swaying to the music as you leaned against Robin in the kitchen. You were mostly quiet as she spoke with Nancy, staring off at a group of guys playing beer pong. You attention was mainly focused on one boy in particular. His hair high and smoothed back, a plain white t shirt hugging his torso in the right places, his light blue jeans tight against his thighs (and butt). The room was smokey from Eddie’s endless supply of weed and lights dim from his persistence that his eyes were burning at the brightness Steve had them on. Steve had rolled his eyes and told Eddie his eyes were bloodshot from all the smoking but complied and turned them down a few notches.

Swaying room as the music starts

Strangers making the most of the dark

Two by two, their bodies become one

I see you through the smokey air

Can't you feel the weight of my stare?

You're so close but still a world away

People were dancing to the music, bodies grinding and moving slowly, sweaty. You and Steve hadn’t spoken much all night but shared a few glances here and there and taken at least one shot together before people started to arrive. Your eyelids were droopy as you took another sip of something Robin had given you, the taste numb on your tongue. Steve had tossed another white ball, missing the cup completely then looking around and smiling softly when he met your eyes. He gave a shy wave, another ball in his hand. You hadn’t smiled or waved back, just studying his features. Whether it was 5 seconds or minutes of staring, you didn’t know. You just remember Steve squinting at you and tilting his head, going back to the game when Lucas nudged his arm to take his turn.

Nancy had nudged Robin and nodded her head in your direction. Robin had looked over to see that same love stricken gaze she’d seen almost everyday since she introduced you and Steve. Why you hadn’t told her about your feelings for Steve, she didn’t know. She was still surprised Steve hadn’t mentioned anything about liking you though she knew he was head over heels.

“You okay y/n/n?” She asked quietly though you could hear it over the music. You turned away from your perfect view and met her eyes. They were soft but you couldn’t decipher what they really meant.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You smiled softly. You really weren’t. You don’t know how long your heart could take pining over Steve. You don’t know how you could betray your friend by crushing on her boyfriend.

“You keep staring in his direction.” She says, her eyes still unreadable.

“Robin,” you mutter. You eyes become glossy and you push away from the counter, your full body facing her. “I-“ you stutter, knowing you’d be losing your friend. “I’m so sorry.” You cry out, only loud enough for Robin and Nancy to hear. Nancy’s confused and wondering if she should leave. Clearly there’s something more going on that she’s unaware of.

“Y/n?” Robin hops off the counter, reaching out for your arms. She places her cold hands on your biceps, looking into your eyes. She never uses your full name. She must be really mad and hurt. “What are you apologizing for?”

Steve’s gaze and attention has fully left the game and is now focused on the two of his best friends in the kitchen. He’s not sure whats going on and wants to go over and see for himself but he’s handed another shot by Eddie and pulled into a large group of guys mostly Eddie knows. When he downs his shot, he pushes out of the crowd to see both of you now missing. His head and nearly spinning on his neck as he looks around for you two.

Robin had sensed the seriousness of the situation and pulled you into a spare room for privacy. “Y/n/n, what’s going on?” She’s pleading for some sort of explanation.

“I can’t tell you. If I tell you then you’ll stop being my friend and then Steve will stop being my friend and you’re both the best people in my life and I can’t lose one of you let alone both of you.” The alcohol was definitely adding to your emotions. “I know we’ve over know each other for like 10 months but I can’t imagine not having you in it ya know? I love our inside jokes and our movie nights and picking on Steve and stealing his food when he’s not looking and-,” You’re rambling and your chest is heaving.

“What are you saying?” She shakes her head, her bangs poking into her eyes, something she hates which is why she lets you cut her bangs for her. She’d always refused Steve’s offers saying he doesn’t have a steady hand. She’s seen the way he’s cut Eddie’s bangs before and did not want to look stupid too.

“I think I’m in love with Steve. I’m so sorry Robin. Ever since I met him there’s been this ball in my stomach. I tried to make it go away. Remember when I went out with that guy Alex for like a month? I really tried. I hated our first date but forced myself to go out with him to rid my feelings but I couldn’t.” You sobbed, hiding your face in one of the coats hanging. I guess you were in some storage closest.

Robins brows has been furrowed ever since she’s entered the room with you. She still doesn’t really understand what the big deal is. You’re in love with Steve. It’s pretty obvious. She knew long time ago. Why were you apologizing? “Y/n? Y/n!” Robin screeched over your years. “I know!” She gives a small smile.

“You know?” You wipe your eyes. “Why don’t you sound mad? You should be hating me right now.” You pull her into a hug. “You’re a good friend and I suck.”

“Why do you think I should be mad?” She asks in awe.

“He’s your boyfriend Robin!” Your outburst is met with a moment of silence before she’s full on laughing. Clutching her stomach and bending over to place her hands on her thighs, above her knees.

“He’s not my boyfriend Y/n/n. Not even close.” Robin gets out between giggles and breaths.

“What?” You hiccup.

“I don’t like Steve. Not any man actually.” She says quietly, confessing something she’s been scared to say out loud. “He’s my best friend.”

“You haven’t been together this entire time?” You clarify. She shakes her head, laughing again.

“You’re so stupid Y/n/n. I thought Steve was stupid but I think you’ve got him beat.” She squeezes you into a hug. After a few minutes of just hugging, she pulls back. “You’re down bad huh?” You nod, sniffling. “Just tell him, I’m sure he feels the same way.” She winks and descends from the closet without any explanation.

What I'm dying to say, is that

I'm crazy for you

Touch me once and you'll know it's true

I never wanted anyone like this

It's all brand new

You'll feel it in my kiss

I'm crazy for you

Crazy for you

You decide to spend a few more moments alone, wiping your eyes and fixing your hair. Straightening out your outfit and thinking to all your moments with Steve. Had you really been this stupid?

You were absolutely crazy for this man. The moment you met him, shaking sweaty hands, you were drawn in. He hand held your right hand in his left one then placed his right hand on top, cuddling your hand. He had smiled at you, a smile that had made you weak in the knees and dreaming of him all night. He had opened the car door for you, his hand on the small of your back so light in touch you weren’t sure how you noticed it. The way he saved a few fries for you when you went to the bathroom and made sure Robin didn’t drink your milkshake. The small things he did that night and during every hangout and even now, he’d always made you feel safe and welcomed. You’d never felt this way about anyone before and it scared you but ignited a flame in you that pushed you to walk directly out of the closet.

Robin had made her way over to the group when she left the room. Her grin was from ear to ear as she inserted herself into the conversation. Steve was on the opposite side of the circle next to Max and Jonathan and made his way between Nancy and Robin. “Where’s Y/n?”

She smiled and turned to him, “she’s somewhere around her.”

“Weren’t you with her? Where’d you guys go? I was looking for you both.” He questions.

“We just needed to talk in privately.” Robin sips on a new cup of whatever Eddie made for her. “She’s okay though. Just needs a minute.”

“Are you sure she’s okay?” Steve pleads for some sort of answer. “You both looked pretty intense in the kitchen.”

Trying hard to control my heart

I walk over to where you are

Eye to eye, we need no words at all

Slowly now we begin to move

Every breath I'm deeper into you

Soon we two are standing still in time

If you read my mind, you'll see

You step out of the closet and search for the man you loved. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest, no specific pattern in particular but you thought it might’ve resembled one of Gareth’s Corroded Coffin drum solos. You find Steve by the curve of his butt, his back turned toward you. You inch toward him, less fierce than your exit from the closet. He hears Eddie shout your name before he sees you. Eddie moves through the circle and heads toward you to hand you another shot. You ignore him by pushing him to the side, not enough to hurt him but enough for him to get out of your path. You’re in a direct line with Steve then you’re toe to toe, his white sneakers touching your dirty black converse. Your eyes meet and he’s about to say something when your lips meet his. Your right hand cups the back of his neck and the other rests on his right bicep. Steve wastes no time moving his left hand to your waist and his right hand on your jaw. The shock of it all wearing off quickly due to the amount of alcohol he’s consumed tonight. Eddies of course the first one to start shouting and hollering, both Nancy and Robin slapping his leather covered arms. They have to pull him and the rest of the group away to let you both have your moment. Robin peeks over her shoulder and you’re both still kissing. Though she doesn’t want to ruin the moment, she wants to just hug you both. So she does. Her legs carry her over and she leaps into your sides. She wraps her arms around both of your shoulders and squeals. “I love this! I love us!”

You and Steve HAVE to break apart and hug her back. Steve’s arm leaves your body to wrap around her shoulder and yours wraps around her waist. No words are spoken, just a bunch of giggles. She smiles and runs back to Nancy who’s talking with El.

Without hesitation, your forehead rests against Steve’s, a small strand of his hair tickling your face. You’re both so focused on each other, swaying to the music, a Madonna song. “Did Robin tell you I like you?” He asks. You can feel his breath on your cheek. You can smell the liquor and mint gum he was chewing.

“No.” You let out a breathy laugh. “I just,” you sigh, “I had to kiss you tonight or I think I would’ve died. My heart was bursting to be near you. To touch you, kiss you, anything.”

His eyes are glossy and he’s pulling you closer into his body. “I had no idea you felt the same way. How long?”

“How long?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“How long have you liked me?”

“I’ve loved you since I met you. I just thought you were with Robin.” You kiss his cheek then his chin and then his lips. “She called me stupid.”

“You are stupid.” He says though pecks against your lips. “But I’m stupid too. For not asking you out or making a move sooner.”

“You think you’ll remember this tomorrow?” You ask shyly.

“I can’t forget a kiss like that.” He chuckles. “I’d never forget you.” He moves a hand up your body, along the curve of your right side. His hand lifts your chin and he plants his lips softly to yours.

You both don’t notice the people passed out around you or the people leaving the party. You don’t notice Robin and Nancy cleaning the cans and cups around the living room. You somehow don’t notice Eddie’s loud ass snoring. You don’t notice Jonathan turning the music down, not off but down to a light hum. Your eyes are shut and your cheek resting on his chest, his chin on the top of your head. You’re both keeping each other up, steadying each other as you sway. You’re both crazy for each other.

#steve harrington x reader

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