#wheres the rest of the wheeler family you might ask
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Porcelain Steve - Part 4
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine
"I don't think this is a good idea," Nancy says, a week later, as she takes a step back. She doesn't seem aware of the physical distance she's added between herself and Robin, but more importantly, herself and Steve in Robin's outstretched arm.
Robin frowns, pulling Steve back towards her body, eyes flicking to meet with Eddie's where he's been hovering awkwardly off to the side, feeling so very out of place. He was going to stay in the van, but when they arrived Robin had raised an eyebrow and said 'aren't you coming?' So, he'd climbed out and followed her into the Wheeler's living room, where he is now.
"What?" Robin asks.
Nancy crosses her arms and looks off to the side. "We shouldn't pass the doll around like this. The more we move it, the bigger chance of someone breaking it."
"It?" seethes Robin, "Steve is not an it!"
"Shit, no, Robin I know that. I didn't mean to say that out loud," Nancy says, then her face screws up as she immediately regrets saying that. "I don't mean that, either. I just, this is. Difficult. For me."
Eddie can't help the scoff that leaves him at that. As if Nancy is the only one taking this harshly. If she knew how long Dustin had cried into his chest two days ago she'd probably have a bit more perspective. Eddie's come to realize she's a badass with a shotgun, a great strategist in dire situations, but when it comes to being a person with emotions and feelings? He's not sure Nancy learned how to do that.
That might be unfair of him to say because he didn't know Nancy before spring break of '86 and didn't really get to know her before she packed up and went to college. This is the first summer since then, so still not a whole lot of 'hanging out and getting to know Nancy Wheeler time' has happened.
He did get to know Jonathan and Argyle, though. Got to hear about her past with Jonathan and Steve (Eddie feels a bit like an idiot for everything he said about Nancy to Steve during the worst week of his life, but he's used to being embarrassed by things he says and pretending he's not). So, he's heard about her steamrolling over people's emotions with her own logic and wants, though can concede it never seems to be intentional.
He tries to lower his hackles because Robin's already on the defensive and Eddie doesn't know Nancy. Just knows of her from people she's hurt, which is almost always a biased retelling anyway.
"Like it's not difficult for all of us?" Robin asks.
"No, that's not what I meant. Just- give me a moment!" Nancy whips around, so that neither Robin or Eddie can see her face. Her shoulders heave up and down like she's taking several deep breaths.
Eddie moves into Robin's space but hovers just beside her, unsure if she'd welcome a hand on her shoulder or not. She huffs out a sigh, as if able to read his mind, and the next thing he knows she's weaseling her way in between him and his own arm, using him as a leaning post like she might with Steve if he were, y'know, still a human and not a doll. He's not used to how touchy Robin is yet because she's only like this with Steve but he's getting there. He's not Robin's soulmate, and he's not trying to be, but he does want to be there for her while Steve can't.
"I'm surprised you're giving her space to think," Eddie whispers into the top of Robin's head.
"Yeah, well, Steve doesn't need to hear us arguing. It's like, all he hears lately."
He pats her arm with his hand since she's draped his arm across her shoulders.
Nancy finally turns around. "Can. Can we put Steve up in my room? I have to say some things that I'm not ready for him to hear yet."
"Oh." Robin says, before offering Steve out.
Nancy takes him, muttering a soft, "I'm sorry, Steve." before she disappears up the stairs.
"What's on your mind, Wheeler?" Eddie asks, breaking the silence that had settled uncomfortably since Nancy's return to the living room.
"I don't really think of Steve as an it. I don't. It's just- easier for me to think of the solution if I'm not thinking about how that's really Steve. I know that's Steve, that he's been transformed, but if I acknowledge that, think about it too much, I spiral. I've taken to just... thinking about some abstract magic doll instead of Steve. So, that was- it was an accident. I didn't mean to say it."
He feels Robin nodding her head, adjusting her stance as she crosses her arms.
Nancy continues, "I don't think Steve should spend time here. With Mike or I. We aren't- it's not going to be good for Steve. He's not going to feel welcomed or wanted here. Except maybe for with Holly, but she cannot know he's here. She'd try and play with him."
Eddie frowns. He understands that Mike isn't going to part of the Hang Out With Porcelain Steve rotation, because whatever beef they have can't be fixed while Steve's like this, and until it's fixed, that would just be torture for both of them. He's not sure why Nancy thinks she'd be just as bad, though, so he asks, "No Holly, no Mike. Why are you also a no?"
The look on Nancy's face is comical, a mix of indignation, sadness, and a bit of how can you seriously not already know the answer mixed. "Because I won't hang out with him. I can't be walking around my house with a porcelain doll that looks like my ex-boyfriend. He'll be left, probably face down, on my dresser, until someone else's turn comes around."
"You could put in the effort, you know. It's not going to kill you to pretend to care for a day," Robin says.
Nancy sucks in a sharp breath. "I do care! Just because I don't want to cuddle with Doll Steve and tell him all about my day doesn't mean I don't care. Just because I don't express my feelings and emotions the same way you do doesn't mean I don't have them."
"Ok, right, yeah, that was unfair of me," Robin concedes, "but what's the part you aren't saying? None of this sounds like something you had to lock Steve in your room for. It's understandable, and Steve wouldn't hold it against you, you know."
"I know! I do! That's why I can't. There's- Robin, you have to know. Steve and I aren't- we're still more like ex's than friends. It's... complicated. We're working on it, though, the being friends thing. But it's..."
"Complicated," Robin sighs, stepping away from Eddie now, halfway to Nancy before she stops walking, hands on her hips.
"That spring break, it fucked us all up, and the months that followed, but I was so- Steve and I were dancing around each other, and Jonathan and I were good, then not, on and then off and then on. And I-I led Steve on, because I would turn to him when Jonathan and I were fighting, or on a break, or whatever-" Nancy stops to take a breath.
Eddie feels something ugly rising in him, jealousy and anger. He doesn't have any right to be jealous. Steve and he are friends, and Steve's straight so it's not like Eddie ever even had a chance, but he's jealous anyway. That Nancy gets that kind of attention from Steve. That she can just keep pieces of Steve on a string, enjoying him when she wants and discarding him when she doesn't. Anger that she can just treat Steve like a yoyo and get away with it.
A little angry at Steve, too, for letting her do it.
"Did you and Steve have sex while you and Jonathan were together?" Robin seethes.
"No! No! There was one time, Jonathan and I were off-again and I tried- but no!" Nancy is pink in the face, and Eddie's surprised she even answers. It's not his or Robin's business if they did. He thinks she might only be answering honestly because it's Robin asking. "Steve said no. He told me he wasn't going to do that the Jonathan. Because he knew what it felt like to be on that side. And even now that Jonathan and I are done, moved on, Steve and I aren't- so it's complicated."
That's news to Eddie. He thought Nancy and Jonathan were still a couple. He's a little shocked to learn that Nancy is confirmed available and Steve didn't jump on the chance.
"Oh! I get it, now, why this is not a good idea," Robin says. Great that she knows, because Eddie still doesn't. "He said no, didn't he?"
Who said no to what?
Nancy's eyes snap to Robin. "What?"
"When you asked Steve to be your boyfriend again. He said no."
"He told you-?"
"No," Robin interrupts, "Steve would never, and you know that. I just know Steve, and the one thing he would never tell me about if it happened. That's why you don't want him here."
"You're in love with him!" Eddie blurts because he's also just figured it out and like Robin often does, has no brain to mouth filter.
Nancy looks to Eddie now, a small frown on her face. "Possibly. But it doesn't matter because I had my chance and it's over now. So, I can't have him here. Not while he's like this."
"I'll go get him," Robin says, leaving the living room.
"Eddie," Nancy locks eyes with him. The look on her face is pretty intense. "He told me no because he thought he was in love with someone else."
He blinks back at her. "Were you hoping he told me who? 'Cause he didn't. That's a question better left for Robin."
All he gets in response is an eye roll.
#steddie#platonic stobin#porcelain steve#i think steve and nancy could become friends again one day#but like... maybe in 1995 or something like that#after plenty of time has past#its rough to stay friends with an ex you were in love with#wheres the rest of the wheeler family you might ask#good question. out somewhere doing something#my fic
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It's weird, Eddie thinks. When Eddie and Steve holds hands, they intertwine it together. However, almost always, Steve ends up untangling it, his hand creeping up and holding him on his wrist instead. It makes Eddie feel like a child, with a mother holding on to him.
He thinks it might be his rings, thinks it might be annoying Steve. But then, he remembers Steve telling him how much he loves them.
He thinks it might be because he sweats when they hold hands for too long. But then, he remembers Steve trying to hug him after work and telling him he couldn't care less if Eddie's sweating or smells like oil.
He thinks it might be— no. He doesn't— Steve might be ashamed of him? And doesn't want to be seen with him, their hands slot together so perfectly the whole world may crumble? No. That's definitely not right. Steve is open to the people who matter, tells Dustin of their last endeavor, tells Robin about how good Eddie is to him, tells Hop that Eddie is good and kind and everything to him. He kisses him in the Wheeler basement, slots his head on his shoulders in between the empty aisles of Family Video, takes Eddie in his arms in the trailer in front of Wayne. That can't be it.
Eddie finds out in the middle of a campaign. Steve, Robin, Max and El hanging out on the sides while the boys busy themselves with defense and strategy. He didn't mean to look Steve’s way, but like a boat, his eyes will always find his lighthouse, bright and guiding in the dark.
Steve is holding Max's wrist, just like he always does with him. At first, it's weird because Max doesn't really like prolonged physical touch. They stay like that for half of the game, whenever Eddie looks back, Steve's hand is still wrapped around Max's wrist.
When Eddie calls for a break, and Steve rushes upstairs to help the boys get a snack, Eddie sits beside Max.
"Hey, Red." Max gives him a nod of acknowledgment as she reads the latest comics.
"Can I ask you a question?" Max hums in agreement, eyes still glued on the page.
"Why was Steve holding your wrist like that?" Max freezes, eyes looking up to meet Eddie's. Eddie is aware of how it sounds like, so he word vomits, "I— I am just curious. He does the same for me and I've never understood why."
Max squints at him behind her thick glasses, "It helps him calm."
Eddie tilts his head in confusion, "Calm?"
Max takes his hands, wrapping a hand around his wrist, just directly above where his pulse is, "When he found us after the Upside Down, we were barely alive. Now, he feels our pulse and it's a reminder that we're alive, we're okay. It calms him down, helps him stay in the moment."
It hits him like a bucket of cold water. How Steve makes it his mission to burrow his head on Eddie's chest, directly above his beating heart, his hand always wrapped just above his pulse, Steve staring at his eyes first thing in the morning like he's looking for something in it.
It's a reminder that Eddie's alive, that Max's alive, that they're all alive and that they get to live and breathe in peace without the impending doom looming over the edge.
Eddie never brings it up. He lets Steve hold his pulse, splay a hand on his chest to feel his heart, lets Steve fall asleep to the sound of Eddie breathing.
Eddie's never gonna bring it up. Steve can do it for the rest of their life for all he cares.
It's the least he can do.
#apology for the last post#steddie rants#dae writes#daeheadcanons#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#steddie headcanons#steddie fanfic
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Steve hasn't celebrated Christmas properly for many years because his parents are never home, and if they do show, it'll be a few days before, and they don't usually stay for new years. Because of this, Steve no longer has the urge to put up decorations. He doesn't bother with Christmas dinners or ugly sweaters or any usual traditions. But deep down, he loves Christmas. The lights, the trees, music, and snow are something a part of him still looks forward to every year he just knows he'll probably be spending it alone. Until he dates Nancy and the Wheelers, let him join them for Christmas and the years after Dustin and his mother would welcome him, although at times he felt like he was imposing he felt grateful he also made sure he bought presents for everyone all the kids and Nancy, Johnathan and eventually Robin he would also help cook for whoever he was staying with he wanted to make sure he was the perfect house guest so he would be invited back next year.
When he and Eddie started dating, Steve half expected he would be invited over at Christmas. Their relationship was going strong they were attached at the hip, and Wayne was very tolerant of them, and he seemed to like him, so he was hoping it would be offered. Except it wasn't November came and left, then it was December 1st, then 4th, then 8th, then 16th, and Eddie hadn't said anything. Which was fine. Christmas is a family thing, after all, and they had been dating for only 4 months. However, Robin and her family were going out of town this year, and Dustin and his mother were hosting his Aunt and Grandma and Steve didn't want to take up anymore space but he couldn't help but feel a tiny pang of rejection and grimacing at the idea of spending Christmas alone in his quiet, dark house.
On the 23rd of December, Steve was sitting in his room. Robin had already left, and family video had closed for the holidays, and Steve figured he shouldn't bother Eddie since it was so close to Christmas. He tried to distract himself by reading a book, wrapping presents he would give out on boxing day, but there was only so much he could do before his mind drifted back, too, his depressing reality. Just as Steve thought about pulling back the covers and spending the next 2 days in bed, the doorbell rang. He went downstairs and opened the door to reveal his boyfriend smiling widely at him.
"Eddie! Hi, I didn't know you were coming over, " Steve said, letting him in.
"Yeah, I wanted to surprise you, baby," Eddie said, stepping through the front door and kissing Steve on the cheek. "I have your christmas present"
Steve glanced at the poorly wrapped box Eddie was gripping with excitement.
"Oh Ed's you didn't have to-"
"Shhh, of course I had too it's Christmas, and you're my boyfriend now where is your tree?" Eddie said, venturing into the living room
"Um..." Steve trailed off suddenly embarrassed by the lack of decoration.
"Wow, you've left decorating really late are you waiting for your parents or something?"
"T-they're not coming"
"What?"
"They're not coming back for Christmas," Steve stated
"Oh my god baby, I'm so sorry," Eddie said, placing his gift on the coffee table and giving his boyfriend a hug
"It's alright Eddie really" Steve chuckled "They haven't spent Christmas with me in years so-"
"Years?!" Eddie said, eyes widening. "So you've been by yourself every year?"
"No, Dustin and Robin have invited me over, but neither of them could this year"
"Why didn't you ask me?" Eddie said sounding a little heartbroken
"I don't know a part of me thought you might ask first and then I thought Christmas is a family thing so you probably want to be with Wayne only"
"Stevie, you are my family too. I love you," Eddie said sincerely.
Steve couldn't stop the tears from welling in his eyes the way Eddie spoke so gently and rested his palm on Steve's cheek.
"I'm sorry." Was all Steve could manage not exactly sure what he was apologising for. Eddie shushed him and cleared his throat.
"Steve Harrington," Eddie started. "Would you please make me the happiest man alive and join me and my uncle for Christmas?"
"Yes," Steve said, laughing at the end.
Eddie and Steve didn't waste a second gathering some of Steve's things, the presents he wrapped, and drove back to the trailer park. Wayne was more than happy to have Steve over for Christmas, especially since he had an extra pair of hands in the kitchen. Eddie and Steve cuddled up on the couch that evening, their mugs of hot chocolate cooling on the coffee table. Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve's forehead.
"Merry Christmas, Stevie"
"Merry Christmas, Ed's"
#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie ficlet#stranger things fanfiction#christmas#steve harrington needs a hug#steve harrington has bad parents#eddie munson is a sweetheart#bisexual steve harrington#gay eddie munson#wayne munson#short and sweet#fluff
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Made a post about Eddie's mother and now this is happening apparently | now also on ao3 as a multi chapter fic
Two years after Eddie discovered the identity of his mother, Nancy Wheeler arrives at Hawkins High. She's still tiny – comparable to Eddie when he was fourteen and had yet to hit his growth spurt – and she's practically glued to this tall ginger girl with thick glasses at all times.
Eddie can't help but look at her whenever they cross paths, and it doesn't take long before he has to draw the disillusioned conclusion that the two of them couldn't possibly be more different from each other. She's nothing like Eddie, with his perpetually loud and boisterous presence, but rather the kind of girl who's always quietly giggling with her friend in a corner of the cafeteria or in the library doing homework. She's very pretty and Eddie strongly suspects she could easily be hanging out with the popular crowd, if she wanted to – he sees how certain guys look at her. But she doesn't seem too interested in any of that, rather sticking with her nerdy friend and dedicating her time to the kind of extracurriculars that ambitious girls are supposed to do.
'Eddie! Hey, Eddie! Munson!'
Jeff has to snap his fingers in front of Eddie's face before he finally gets his attention.
'What?' Eddie startles.
'I've been talking to you for like, the past ten minutes. What the hell can be more important to you than the plot of The death of Captain Marvel?'
Eddie has to muster all his self-restraint to not look over Jeff's shoulder across the cafeteria to where Nancy Wheeler and her friend are sitting two tables over. But alas, he is not exactly known for his vast amounts of self-restraint.
Jeff follows his gaze and gasps.
'Nancy Wheeler?' he hisses emphatically under his breath, leaning closer towards Eddie. 'Dude, are you kidding me?'
'Jeff,' Eddie says, flatly, to stop him.
But Jeff marches on. 'The jocks won't stop talking about her, man! Don't you dare become like that, you –'
'Ew,' is all Eddie has to say to that. 'Dude, you are so wrong, it's not even funny.'
Jeff risks another glance over his shoulder.
'Her friend is cute,' he says.
'Wasn't looking at her friend either,' Eddie answers, accompanying his words with an eye-roll.
A smile crosses over Jeff's face. 'Good,' he establishes.
Luckily, if there's anything Eddie is good at, it's to take an opportunity when he sees one: he latches onto this fascinating piece of information and spends the rest of their lunch break teasing Jeff relentlessly about his little crush on a certain freckled freshman.
He's pretty sure that Jeff is way too shy to ever ask any girl out – and even though Eddie might be pretty damn stupid, he's not exactly stupid enough to meddle in this one. That'd be a recipe for a disaster of boundless extent.
He can't help but wonder what it'd be like, though. He knows it's an utterly useless daydream in multiple aspects, the most important one being the way he sees Barbara Holland looking at Nancy. It easily betrays to him that the chances are very slim that Jeff would be her type in any way. But he still can't stop imagining what his life could be like if Jeff and Barbara were dating. He imagines the four of them hanging out together. He imagines getting to know Nancy, really getting to know her. He imagines the two of them seeking out each other's company whenever their two best friends would be doing stupid date stuff. They'd become fast friends, even though they'd seem like an unlikely pair; they'd simply have this instant familiarity around each other, connect like they were always meant to be bound to each other in some kind of way, despite all their differences. He'd come to her house all the time, get to know her - his - family, learn all about her secrets, her hopes and dreams... She'd joke about Eddie having become like an older brother to her and he'd get just as close to Mike and baby Holly... Maybe he'd even grow closer to Karen. She'd take him under her wing, make him homemade cookies like she's done for all her other kids, and give him a look, every now and then, that told him that she knew who he was, and that she was sorry...
He knows it's not good for him to lose himself in those kind of daydreams. He's always been a big daydreamer, but this one is becoming an obsession that borders on being unhealthy. More often than not, he'll zone out in class losing himself in scenarios where he's somehow a part of the family in the big house in Maple Street. Not only does it feel ungrateful towards Uncle Wayne and is it ruining his already questionable grades, it's also a special kind of torture for himself, to be dedicating so much of his time inserting himself into a family that will never actually be his.
'You're Eddie Munson, aren't you?'
He almost drops his lunchbox one day when he's at his locker and Nancy suddenly appears out of nowhere behind him.
'Jesus, you scared me, can you not sneak up on me like that?!' he blurts out to conceal how his heart is suddenly beating in his throat. Fuck, he never really wanted to talk to her, that was never part of the plan. He didn't even know she knew who he was in the first place!
Looking into her eyes is the most difficult thing of all. No matter how different the two of them are, those eyes are proof of what they have in common: almost too big for their faces and so expressive that every emotion they have is easily betrayed in their gazes. Looking at her, really looking at her, shows him the phantom life that could've never been his anyway more clearly than anything else.
He sees himself, two years old, holding a newborn in his arms. He sees the two of them giggling and playing with a baby through the bars of a playpen four years later. He sees them on a playground, swinging side by side and getting mud on their hands in a sandbox. He sees the two of them grow older: him making her laugh by making up silly stories about her barbies, her practicing with make-up on his face, him sharing his newfound love for good music with her; the two of them dramatically complaining about their parents together, him teaching her to play guitar, her on his bed talking about boys; all taking place in that big house that Eddie will never even set foot in, because he belongs there just as much as the raccoons that sometimes plague their trashcans.
'Are you stalking me?'
Eddie blinks. The way she looks at him knocks the breath right out of his lungs: her chin is tilted upwards and there's something almost defiant in the way her eyebrows are curved. Suddenly, she seems to have much more in common with Eddie than he thought, this freshman girl with neatly braided hair challenging the local trailer trash drug dealer without an ounce of timidity.
'Uhhhh,' he dumbly says.
'Do you want something from me?'
'N-no,' he stutters.
'Then stop staring at me all the time, creep,' she says sharply.
Before he can say anything else, she turns her back to him and walks away.
He knows pretty damn well he shouldn't stare, but he finds himself glued to the floor, unable to look anywhere else while Nancy's tiny frame disappears among the crowds of students filling the school halls.
This one hurts more than anything else; even more than that time just after he found out, when he was soaking wet and staring into the Wheelers' warmly lit kitchen from behind the bushes in their garden.
She has no clue who he is; no clue how closely their lives are intertwined. She didn't see in his eyes what he saw in hers. Of course she didn't. How could she? He's just Eddie Munson, the school freak, after all. Completely and utterly incomparable to little miss perfect Nancy Wheeler. He's the weirdo whose creepy gaze she had intercepted one too many times in the cafeteria, making her so uncomfortable that she felt the need to stand up for herself and say something about it.
God, he needs to let this go.
Update: pt3 is now here
#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#edancy siblings#eddie munson#nancy wheeler#jeff stranger things#barbara holland#fruity ficlet#stranger things#fanfic
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Sweetheart - (eddie munson x reader)
**UNDER HEAVY CONSTRUCTION**
Ch. One - The Wot?
summary: when the split mayfield/hargrove family move to hawkins the oldest mayfield finds out that hawkins might be the weird change she needed.
pairing: eddie x fem!goth!mayfield! reader
warnings: 18+ (minors dni) this is obnoxiously long, unfortunate use of y/n, language, mentions of abuse, billy hargrove -i think that's all-
author's note: i'm nervous but also excited for this. the first few chapters are purely exposition and are honestly pretty boring except for some funny stuff but it picks up pretty fast. let me know if you like it and want to see the rest. love you <3
Part 2 >>
Y/n Mayfield stretched her arms above her head as she stepped out of her stepbrother's Camaro outside Hawkins High School on her first day, discreetly tossing her nearly finished joint on the ground. "Uh, hello?" her sister Max called from the backseat. "Oh, my bad," Y/n snorted. She moved the seat forward so Max could step out. Her stepbrother Billy was already long gone and on the way to the school but neither of the sisters noticed or cared.
Max punched Y/n's shoulder when she stood fully with a smile. Y/n gasped and dramatically held her shoulder with a look of fake anguish on her face. Max giggled and told her to shut up. Y/n snickered and ruffled Max's hair.
"See ya, rat," Y/n said. "Bye Simmons," Max replied, skating towards the middle school. "Still hate KISS!" Y/n yelled, earning a middle finger from her little sister.
The older girl noticed two other teenagers gawking at them from their own car across the lot. She smirked and tossed a peace sign above her head as she walked backwards towards the high school before turning and walking normally.
Y/n kinda liked it in Hawkins. California was too warm, and it was always ridiculously bright there. Being a person who liked to wear dark clothes didn't really mix well with that. That and all the people there were obnoxious and annoying. But it was California.
Not much else to expect.
Y/n smiled charmingly at the receptionist in the office as she walked in. "Hey, uh, I'm new? Should be under Mayfield?" she asked.
The receptionist shuffled through the papers on her desk and pulled out two papers. One was her schedule, and one was a little map of the school. Y/n tried not to laugh out loud at the map but thanked her anyways. "Ah! Let me call up a student to show you to class. Hold on one second, hon," the lady said, calling someone on the phone and telling Y/n to wait there for a minute. She nodded and leaned against the wall until the girl who was staring at her earlier came in.
"Hi, Nancy. Would you mind showing her to her first class? You have it together," the receptionist lady asked. Nancy stuttered before nodding with a 'sure!' and motioning for Y/n to follow her. Y/n did, saluting the secretary as she left.
Nancy walked beside her, humming quietly at the faint smell of weed, hair dye, and fabric softener from Y/n. Nancy thought it was odd but comforting for some reason. "Sorry. I-I'm Nancy. Wheeler," Nancy spoke up, introducing herself. Y/n snorted at her awkwardness and shook the girl's outstretched hand, "All good. I'm Y/n," she said.
Nancy nodded with a smile, "Nice. It suits you," she replied. Y/n smiled and thanked her.
They did get a good conversation going after that, having finally broken the ice and Nancy took her schedule from her to see what classes they had together. The shorter of the pair also showed Y/n where her locker was so she didn't have to carry all of her stuff and helped her get it open. Y/n, still partially high, tried her best to listen to what Nancy had to say. Nancy seemed pretty smart, and it was obvious she had lived in Hawkins her whole life, so good thing to have a friend who knows their shit.
Nancy glared at people who were staring at Y/n, who was completely oblivious to it as she carried her books and dropped the other school stuff she didn't put in her locker into the bag her mom made her carry. Y/n towered over Nancy, so she stuck out like a sore thumb. Not because Y/n was inherently tall, but because she had a pair of six-inch-tall black platform boots to add to her normal height.
Nancy noticed and thought it was brave of her. People were very judgmental in Hawkins, so to walk around without caring and with a look like that took guts. Nancy appreciated it. She had never really hung out or met anyone like Y/n, but she'd always wondered what it would be like to have a friend like her.
Y/n was currently standing at an even six feet tall and wore black head to toe including her hair, which was dyed jet black and ruffled into a shaggy cut.
Nancy smiled in satisfaction with herself when they walked into class and people gaped at them walking in together. Miss perfect Nancy Wheeler walking around with someone who looks like something straight out of a heavy metal magazine.
Robin Buckley's eyes widened from her spot in the back corner seat, and she listened to Y/n talk when the teacher made her introduce herself. Everyone was staring at her, seeming completely interested in what she had to say.
"Uh, hey! I'm Y/n," she said, "I'm from California. Now I live here. I'm just trying to graduate, so, if you're chill, we can hang!" Y/n mumbled thanks to the teacher before taking a seat in the back directly behind Nancy. Nancy turned around and gave her a thumbs-up, inviting her to sit with her at lunch. Y/n snickered and shrugged, which was her way of saying yes.
The whole class kept staring at her off and on, trying to focus on schoolwork but also hung up on the new girl. Hawkins almost never got new kids, but when they got one like this?
Everyone is shell-shocked.
Y/n blinked slowly and listened to the teacher ramble on about math. She grabbed a tin of Altoids that obviously didn't have Altoids in it anymore and popped one in her mouth. The bell rang shortly after and Y/n and Nancy were on their way to their lockers and next class.
Y/n took off her jacket, shoving it in her locker, and even that simple action earned some whispers. Nancy also looked a little shocked when she walked up, hugging a new pile of books to her chest. A guy who was about half an inch shorter than Y/n with huge hair trailed after her, eyes widening at Nancy's new friend. "What?" Y/n asked obliviously, eyes bouncing from one to the other. The couple was quiet, trying to come up with an answer, and failing.
"It's the tattoos, innit?" Y/n whispered. Nancy nodded a small smile on her lips.
"I can, like, put my jacket back on if it makes y'all uncomfortable..." Y/n offered.
"Nah, man, they're cool! I just think people weren't expecting them," the guy replied swiftly. "Oh. Okay," Y/n shrugged, and they were walking to class.
Y/n sucked her teeth and picked up the pace to toss herself into the lockers next to a blond boy dressed in all denim, a smarmy look on his face.
"What?" he said sharply.
Y/n laughed at him, "Oh, you wound me with your hatred!" Billy looked very unthreatening having to look up to speak to her eye to eye. He rolled his eyes and repeated himself. "Just wondering how your day is going. Are people staring at you too, or is it just me?" Y/n asked.
Billy scoffed and looked around, noticing a few people quickly avoiding his gaze before they got caught staring.
"Nah, it's not just you," Billy said lowly, slamming his locker and stomping away.
Y/n found her way to second period and sat down next to Nancy after having to introduce herself again.
"Hey!"
Y/n turned at the sharp whisper and raised an eyebrow at a brunette sitting next to her. Y/n looked around before pointing at herself, "Me?" she whispered back. The brunette nodded. Y/n waved hesitantly, glancing at the teacher to make sure they wouldn't get in trouble. The brunette held up a finger, turning to her notebook and writing something in it before ripping it out and passing it to Y/n.
"hi"
Y/n smirked and wrote back "hi :)" the brown-haired girl smiled and wrote on the paper under that.
"I'm Robin"
"Y/n" Y/n wrote back.
"I know. We have first together too."
"Oh, word? Nice."
"I know! Anyways, I think we should be friends! I like your style."
"Hell yeah we should! You seem nice and thank you." "Awesome!! I was so worried that wasn't going to work."
"Ahahaha don't worry you're cool."
"Yay I'm cool!! But I won't make you pass notes for an eternity. You probably have a lot to catch up on, so I'll see you later, k?"
"Ok!"
And with that, Y/n made a new friend.
taglist: @sisgotdemons @tlclick73 @deafeningmoontragedy @marjoriea13 @playfuloutcast @twosluttychains @leetaeilsnecktattoo @lil-quinnie @razzles-bottom-lip @originalstar1
@yessargeantbarnes happy birthday babes <3
tiny author's note: hii!! i'm glad y'all were excited about this! this starts slow but it gets to the point pretty quick so don't worry there will be eddie content very very soon. Let me know if you wanna be on the taglist! love you! :)
#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie my beloved#eddie x y/n#eddie stranger things#eddie munson (shaggy’s version)#joseph quinn smut#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things imagine#joseph quinn#joseph quinn fluff#joseph quinn fic#my fanfic
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can i request something inspired by where’s my love - syml? maybe bubbly reader developed something traumatic after the s4 events and just blocked everyone in her life and eddie’s worry sick that they might never be themselves again and starts helping them and all that hurt/comfort cutie patootie. luv your work!! 😭💛
oughoughhh i love this idea, thank you for the ask and kind words!!
(i’m so sorry it’s been well over a month anon thank you for being patient with me 🥲🫶🫶)
this one jumps around a bit but hopefully it’s concise 🥲
contains: cursing, use of she/her pronouns
page divider from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
“Can’t you just… fuck, I don’t know… can’t you talk to her, Wheeler? I just…” Eddie takes a deep breath and breathes it out slow away from the receiver, closing his eyes and massaging the bridge of his nose with his free hand, tucking himself into the paneled wall of Wayne’s trailer. “I feel like — like she’s not here, even when she’s right next to me… like she’s a ghost.”
There’s a pause on the other end as Nancy listens, choosing her words carefully.
“Eddie… if you can’t get through to her, I don’t know that I would do any better. I’m sorry, but, you just — you have to give her time. We all just need, time. Think about what she saw in there. All of us nearly died. But… she saw you— ... I know you don’t remember it all, but she does.”
Eddie pinches his nose harder and grimaces, shaking his head a little. “…fuck…”
Nancy sighs softly, “yeah…”
The first time Eddie becomes aware of your existence, he hears you before he sees you. From behind him, parked atop the picnic table hidden in the woods — his secret spot — he hears a delicate chime of bells; a soft giggle hidden behind shy hands. He turns quickly to spot the intruder, and when he sees you, he finds himself softening when he didn’t even realize how tense he was.
“I-I’m so sorry!” you call to him, lowering your hand to bask him in the shine of your smile, twiddling your fingers nervously together in front of your chest. “I didn’t know anyone would be here, I—“
“No no,” Eddie finds himself saying, turning more to you and raising a placating hand, waving away your apologies. “No ‘sorries,’ it’s all good. I’m just, uhh…”
“Hiding?” You finish for him with another gentle shimmer of a giggle. “Me, too.”
“Now who would you be hiding from?” There’s a lilt of playful tease in his voice. He himself was waiting for the parking lot to clear out after school, avoiding Jason and his goons and the general chaos of people wanting to book it home.
You roll eyes in exasperation, heaving your shoulders, “ugh, just… everyone. First day’s always the worst.”
“Everyone, excluding the freak?” Again there’s the gentle teasing, he says it softly like he’s worried you’ll suddenly realize who you’re talking to. Instead you raise a brow and peer around.
“ ‘The freak’?”
He smiles crookedly and opens his arms as if to say ‘you’re lookin’ at him.’
You smile softly and giggle again, disbelieving as you shake your head, moving in closer, “you don’t seem like a freak to me.”
You’d taken to spending the majority of your time at the Munson’s; it was hard to be in your own home where no one understood. No one knew why you hardly spoke anymore, why you would start to cry unprovoked, why all you wanted to do was lie curled up in bed and yet refuse to let yourself fall asleep — headphones resting tight over your ears as your music played much too loud.
You felt guilty having Eddie care for you, but aside from your family not understanding, he did. He understood, and insisted upon having you stay with him and Wayne. It made him anxious to be away from you, worrying about your state of mind and the coping habits you’d developed that weren’t all that healthy. He worried intensely about that darkness that had taken over you.
While he recovered in the hospital, you were there every single day, and when he finished his healing at home you were there, too. Once he was better enough to move around, he was determined to pay back the attention you had devoted to him. He wanted to be there while you cried, while you were quiet, let you cling to him as you shivered. He figured eventually it would pass, as it had for him — soon you’d be better and you’d laugh together again. But the darkness proved heavy and insistent. Just as you clung to him, the darkness clung to you.
Today was rainy and gloomy; days like today only intensified your struggle, and you sought shelter in Eddie’s embrace. Even in his arms, though, even with his face tucked into your cheek and his gentle voice cooing to you that it was okay — the gloom within you was so bleak, you cried so hard into his shoulder you nearly screamed, your mind plagued with images you wish you could burn away with the hottest fire. Even while he held you you feared that looking up it would be another trick of the mind, another dream where his mouth oozed blood and his eyes were devoid of his spark. And so you just hid into him and cried, shuddering and hiccuping with every short, shallow breath.
“It’s okay… hey it’s okay… just breathe, sweetheart, breathe with me… I’ve got you… you’re okay… you gotta breathe, baby… I got you… you’re okay…”
“PLEASE JUST BREATHE! Breathe, Eds, god-DAMMIT! PLEASE PLEASE — you’re okay you’re okay you’re okay — EDDIE PLEASE!!”
You can’t see past the tears, past the flashes of red, but you’re hitting him, hitting his chest, urging the air into him as you wail and then break to shake him hard, screaming into his face.
And then he gasps…
Sometimes your silence scares him more than the tears. Sometimes one minute you’ll be inconsolable, and the next it’s like something in you has switched off, you’re awake but — you’re gone. Retreated to somewhere deep inside.
Your face is damp but slack, eyes open but not perceiving, not fixed, lids heavy; you’re looking past everything into a blackness no one else can see. Your tense muscles suddenly going lax and limp to the point you’re just slouched into Eddie, so motionless you could be comatose. When this first happened he panicked, but now he just sighs softly and tips your head back to check you over, gently patting your face dry and brushing hair away from your face, pressing light and concerned kisses to your forehead and cheeks and murmuring to you, hoping you still hear him. Carefully he helps you to your feet, holds you against him as he guides you to his room; you can move but your feet are almost too heavy, dragging against the floor.
Once in the cozy confines of his room, Eddie gently and very carefully helps you to lie down on his bed, placing a pillow under your head and between your knees, another against your chest before he maneuvers your arms to wrap around it. Your fingers flex gently, eyes still unfixed but you squeeze the material and pull it further against you.
All he can do for a few minutes is just sit at the edge of the bed and rest his face in his hands, keeping his breath even and calm — the sound of your cries still rings in his ears and just the thought of it makes him want to cry, too. But he also wants to stay strong for you; needs to stay strong for you. However long it took, Eddie wanted to see you through this storm. As dark as it got, Eddie knew he would see you come home to him again.
Looking to the corner of the room, he lays eyes on his acoustic guitar, proud in its stand.
This machine slays dragons.
He stands and moves to it, brings it with him as he sits on the floor leaning back against the bed. He hears you breathe softly behind him and closes his eyes, plucking with bare fingers and a tight throat that allows no more than a hummed melody; anything more and he’d break. He needed to be strong for you. He needed to see you come home.
The picnic table had become a hideout for you just as had been for Eddie, a space you’d come to share with the boy (much to his happiness) when the days proved overwhelming — and most of them were. But you also looked forward to see him waiting there for you. As soon as you spotted each other you’d both grin and blush, hiding the unspoken feeling you unknowingly shared for each other; a deeply-rooted affection that only grew stronger with each meeting.
You’d split lunches from home, Eddie would rattle on about the D&D campaigns he was working on while you smiled wide and listened intently. Some days were worse than others, for either of you, however. Sometimes you’d find Eddie slouched into himself and tired, and you’d let him vent about Jason or teachers or whatever was bothering him. But as long as he could see you smile, he knew things would be alright. If you could smile for him, it meant the sun was right beside him.
Sometimes you’d find there Eddie with a guitar propped in his lap, after he’d been missing from school all day. Not up to being around them, but dying to be around you no matter how heavy the fog in his mind was.
The first time you’d found him with his guitar he didn’t speak at all as you approached, just smiled half-heartedly and patted the spot next to him for you to join. Together you’d sat in quiet for a while, as he absently plucked at strings, not wanting to speak but just needing some kind of gentle noise.
After a time, you asked him, “do you take requests?”
And Eddie smiled and looked at you past his hanging, curly hair, “whatever you wanna hear, sweetheart. Anything for you.”
As he strums lightly now, sat on the floor, he feels gentle fingers comb into his hair from behind him, softly caressing his scalp. Eddie smiles wide and continues to play.
“…are you really here..?” Your voice is so quiet it’s just barely audible.
Eddie sets the guitar down, resting it against his nightstand, and turns, reaching up to take your hand, finding your other as well. He squeezes them gently and presses his lips to them, puffing soft breath against them and then kissing them sweetly, nuzzling into your knuckles as he nods.
“I’m here. I’m really here. Promise.”
He looks up to find your eyes, shimmering with tears over the edge of the pillow still tucked against your chest. You’re there, all there, present and seeing him.
“It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
You close your eyes, pushing out heavy droplets.
It’s quiet for a while as Eddie just continues to hold your hands, watching you carefully. Eventually you nudge your chin up and tuck it over the pillow, and Eddie’s smile is brilliant in the presence of your own — small but it’s there.
“…do you take requests..?”
Eddie chuckles and sits up further on his knees, leaning in to kiss you, lingering against your lips and aligning his nose with yours, nudging into you with deep affection.
“Whatever you wanna hear, sweetheart. Anything for you.”
#i hope you enjoy anon i’m so sorry you’ve had to wait so long!#WHY am i so nervous abt this one lmaoooo#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x she/her#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson hurt/comfort#eddie munson angst#mine
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I think we've had "pretty?" all wrong
You know how it's annoying that Eleven is written to randomly care about her attractiveness to Mike as a kid straight out of the lab? I just found a new way of looking at this where it makes so much more sense and doesn't suck.
All the prettys that ever get talked about:
El touches the picture of Nancy and says "pretty".
Mike tells El she looks "pretty. good. pretty good." and she looks in the mirror and repeats it, evidently reveling in the sensation of being deemed attractive by a boy.
Later, missing the wig that had enabled Mike to consider her attractive, she asks him "still pretty?" and he's like "yeah, really pretty!" and she seems relieved.
El piggybacks Billy's memories, sees his mom on the beach, and reports to the rest of the gang that she's a babe.
Pinned down by flayed Billy intent on feeding her to the meat monster, El's thoughts return to how pretty his mom was, and she tells him so, and this somehow saves the world.
But the one I overlooked, because it really doesn't fit with the others in that she isn't referring to a person, is when El runs away to her mother's house. 12 years too late, she enters the nursery room meant to be hers, reaches into her crib and pulls out a teddy bear and says, in a sad little whisper, "pretty."
This is the one that decodes all the others.
Eleven has a poor grasp of language and has been using this word in her own way. Visual attractiveness is a mere pinch of salt in her recipe for "pretty," where the key flavors are good. comfort. happy. safe. normal. soft. home. loved.
That soft happy teddy bear is something that should have belonged to El and comforted her as a little child beginning a normal life. Immediate previous dialogue for context:
Becky: [ Your mother] always believed that you'd come home one day.
El: Home?
Becky: Yeah, home.
El, picking up the teddy bear: Pretty.
The Nancy "pretty" being the first one establishes that it's El's word, not one she got from Mike.
Nancy's prettiness represents normalcy and happiness to El, the kind she worries will never be hers. There were also family portraits including Mrs. Wheeler (who El could've been drawn to as a friendly mother figure) and toddler Holly (who El could've been drawn to as a reminder of her past self) yet she made a beeline for Nancy. This makes me think El's interest in Nancy relates to her hopes for her own future.
Not long after that is the scene where she seeks out Nancy's bedroom and looks with tragic reverence upon the soft comfortable space and belongings of a normal girl, and what it might look like to be loved. I can't think anything is going through her mind except that this is the future that's been denied to her, and wondering if she can or will ever have something like it.
Billy's mom is conventionally pretty, but El is really describing her vibe as warm, involved, happy, loving. I can hear the delivery of "I think she's looking at me" as a bit wistful, as El would like to have a happy nurturing motherlady to look at her that way. (She does know her own mom at this point, but she's catatonic or whatever so they can never really have an interaction like this)
Billy doesn't not kill everybody because El complimented his mom.
El: She was pretty. She was really pretty. And you were happy.
(and then she touches his face and it's presumably the only genuinely compassionate touch he's felt in years and he deactivates)
It's right there in the dialogue that El gets through to him by painting a picture of his happiest memory. But I always thought "pretty" seemed like an annoyingly shallow thing to place so much emphasis on here, until I thought about pretty in this context. Pretty + happy are a single concept to both El and Billy.
Billy, to a lesser extent, also had normal childhood stolen from him. Due to his abuse and abandonment he shares El's longing for a mother, safety, warmth and love, and "pretty" spoke to him in a similar way. Watch his face, he's clearly changed before she even adds the happy part. "Pretty" is Billy's Running Up That Hill - it isn't a magic incantation that makes the monster drop dead, but it does give him a moment of clarity that he can use to fight.
So now let's look at those classics again. Although I've always found it endearing on a "lol, linguistically stunted child misunderstands slang" level, I suddenly see a lot more in it.
"You look pretty good." He's talking about her looks.
"Pretty. Good." She's talking about her worth.
Made-over-El stands in the mirror and thinks, here is a normal-looking girl, she is pretty and good, Mike said so. In the wig and dress, she understands herself to be someone else entirely. Mike, who has only recently named her "El, short for Eleven", reinforces this by re-naming her Eleanor while she's dressed like this, even though the name Elle would not have raised Mr. Clark's eyebrows for any reason.
Later when she's on the lam in the woods, she looks at her reflection in the water with and without the wig, and screams at herself because it hurts that the real her isn't "Pretty. Good."
So when she calls back to this, she still doesn't really care if Mike thinks she's attractive, because she only ever thought he meant her definition of "pretty" in the first place.
She's not asking am I good-looking with no hair? She's asking, me, too? the real me? do I belong with nice loved happy soft? and when he gives an enthusiastic yes, look at the little look she gives herself in the mirror. It's not f yeah, a boy finds me desirable. It's maybe there is hope for me.
And the next thing out of Mike's mouth is "I'm happy you're home."
Season 4 gave us one more sneaky one:
El: I am twice as happy now. You are right. It just takes time. I think I have finally adapted. At first I missed all the spring flowers, but now I find it pretty here too.
At this point, El has the life that that hopeful little girl in the mirror dreamed of: normalcy, a home, a mom, a family, a boyfriend, long hair, her own bedroom full of her own stuff and important little mementos like Nancy's. And the gnawing truth is, it still isn't making her happy. But this was the dream, so she's just trying to fake it til she makes it. Pretty here is not just about Hawkins vs Lenora scenery but the sense of home, wholeness and happiness that she's trying to fool both Mike and herself into believing she feels in her new life.
Here they are in order for your evaluation. thank you for your time
#perhaps ive judged you too harshly#eleven#stranger things#el hopper#jane hopper#pretty#analysis#long post#character analysis#givehimthemedicine analysis#best
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Billy spots Holly Wheeler as soon as he turns the corner.
There she is, a pink munchkin in a Strawberry Shortcake nightgown, shuffling along the streets in too-big Cabbage Patch slippers, and even from behind, Billy recognises that giggly ray of sunshine from his Little Tiddlers swim session. But even if this is one of the good neighbourhoods- the kind with double garages and heated pools around the back- he's still getting the heebie-jeebies at the sight of her trudging along like this in the dark of night, all alone. And hey, Billy might be an asshole, but Holly's the only one outta the whole damn Wheeler family that he gives a shit about, so he slows to a stop as he pulls up alongside her and he asks, "I'm pretty sure Little Mermaids like you outta be tucked up on the sea bed right now, Missy."
And his heart cracks, just a little, when she looks up at him with big, watery eyes and says, "I wanna go to Nana's."
"OK?" Billy asks, a little confused, and Holly's bottom lip starts to quiver,
"Mommy was crying again. And Daddy was saying mean things. And they woke me up and it was scary and I didn't like it so I'm gonna go to Nana's house. Nana's always nice."
And, oh, Billy gets that. And he remembers how he used to run away sometimes too, only he had no Nana around, so he'd take himself down to the beach, somewhere where his tears could get masked by the spray of the ocean, and his muffled sobs were drowned out by the crash of the waves.
But that was California. And this is Hawkins. And it's a hell of a lot colder here. And he's always had a soft spot for little Holly and the way she'd try so hard at her lessons and how pleased she was when he taught her how to dolphin dive and how she'd always give him a great big hug at the end of his lessons, burrowing right into his chest and telling him he was her favourite ever teacher.
So of course he tells her to hop on in, explains that it's a little too late to go waking up her grandma, but hey, he'll give her a ride home, and he gets her settled in the passenger seat, cranking up the heat and bundling her up in his way-too-big denim jacket, and the two of them drive around the streets, Holly chattering about the noises that woke her up, the banging and the 'bad words' and the yelling, getting herself all upset again until Billy distracts her by getting her to choose a tape to put on, and Holly spends the rest of the short drive bobbing her head adorably to Metallica, her fingers tip tapping the beat on the well-loved Bedtime Bear she's got perched on her lap.
And she hadn't really gotten herself too far away from her house so she can't have been out long, but Billy's still kinda surprised when no one comes running out to greet them both, half expecting to round the corner and see a distraught Karen and a whole crowd of police officers and search dogs and nosy neighbours congregating on the manicured lawn. But instead, there's nothing. No sign of anyone until he walks up the path and rings the doorbell and Nancy's the one who answers. She takes one look at Holly, still with Billy's jacket falling off her shoulders, and the confusion on her face twists into fury. She reaches out to tug Holly towards her, wrenching her little hand roughly out of Billy's grip and shoving her back into the house, before she's stepping forward to glare up at Billy, spitting venom as she hisses,
"Billy? What the hell? What have you been doing with my little sister?"
And Billy's taken aback by the anger in her eyes and the accusation in her tone, and he can't help but get defensive, sounding just as vicious when he growls out,
"Your precious little sister was out wandering the streets in the middle of the night, and it looks like you didn't even have a clue she was missing. So how about you can it with that attitude, Miss Priss?"
And Nancy doesn't have an answer to that, but she does reach over to Holly and try to pull Billy's jacket away from her, only for Holly to cling onto it, stamping her foot and saying, "No! It's mine! Billy said it made me look badass." And as she lisps the curseword, Nancy shoots Billy another of those filthy looks, and Billy glares back, entirely unmoved,
"Hey, from what she was telling me, the lil gremlin's been hearing much worse coming outta Mom and Pop's mouths recently. So maybe you should try acting like a big sister once in a while and keep an eye on her?"
And he leans around Nancy to give Holly a smile and a wave, watching as she twirls away down the hall with the jacket pooling at her knees, before he turns back to Nancy, voice cold and serious as he says, "I mean it, Wheeler. Jesus, just give her a damn hug then put on a movie and turn up the volume. Cause hearing shit like that? It's not nice for a kid. Kinda fucks you up. Believe me, I know."
#cherrywrites#not harringrove#but billy!#and lil Holly cause hey. i love her#i have a whole universe of these two being buddies
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Hello there!!! May I request a suuuper fluffy piece for Gareth? Maybe where you’ve been friends since you were little, and you both love each other but think the other doesn’t (so cliche I know but it makes my heart happy) and the hellfire boys are tired of it so they do their best to get y’all together and adorable-ness ensues? If possible, thank you so much!! 💕💕💕
Thanks so much for the request!
Honeysuckle
Gareth Emerson x Fem!reader
Summary is basically the request
1.3k words
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕🥁💀💀🥁💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
"So close! Try again!" You giggled as Gareth missed for what had to be the 100th time.
It was lunch, and Gareth had been trying to throw a tater-tot in your mouth the entire time. The rest of the table was audibly groaning, and Mike had a very readable look of disgust on his face.
"Are you sure they're not dating and just very, very bad at hiding it?" Dustin whispered to Eddie.
"Sadly, I'm sure. "
"Are we gonna do anything about it?" Lucas questioned.
"Please do something, I don't think I can watch this for much longer without vomiting," Mike muttered.
"You're right. Freshmen, it's time to get the childhood best friends together once and for all." Eddie smirked.
“God they’re such a cliché,”
~~~~~~~
The boys spent the rest of the week trying to get you and Gareth together, like sticking notes in you or Gareth’s lockers (turns out you two already did that) and saying it was from the other or making comments whenever Gareth called you a pet name.
“What's up buttercup?”
“Buttercup? Doesn’t that sound like something a boyfriend would call a girlfriend?”
“Shut up Lucas.”
It got to the point where Eddie even got your friends outside of Hellfire involved.
“Look, Y/n, all I’m saying is I see the way he looks at you. And c’mon, he calls you stuff like “Honeysuckle” and “Lovebug” Isn’t it obvious?”
“Since when have you been one to play matchmaker Alex?”
“Whatever. Just saying.”
None of their tactics were working, so by the end of the week, the boys devised a much more straightforward plan.
~~~~~~~
You worked at the local arcade, right next to family video.
Just before your shift ended, a familiar boy ran in, out of breath.
"Wheeler? Did you run all the way here?" You chuckled.
"L/n! Uhh, yes actually. Last minute change. There's a hellfire campaign starting tonight that we need you to sub for because Lucas had a last-minute basketball thing. It starts at 8 pm." Mike practically wheezed, still out of breath.
" ’Kay, I’ll be there. But you realize you could've just called right-?"
"...Shit."
~~~~~~~~~
You walked up to the clubroom, only to see a giddy Eddie, Dustin, Mike, and Lucas waiting outside the room.
"Hi! Are we supposed to go into the clubroom or..?" You questioned, feeling as though something was off.
"It's a common tradition that the Dungeon Master enters the room last." Dustin quickly explained.
"Well, then why are you guys out here-?"
"Eddie gets lonely out here," Lucas said, patting Eddie on the shoulder. "So we wait with him."
"Yep," Eddie said through gritted teeth.
"Lucas? Wait if you're here who am I subbing for?"
"Just get in the room." Mike practically screamed, before pushing you in.
You stumbled into the room, which as far as you knew was not set up for a DnD game. There were light candles, dim lighting, rose petals sprinkled on the table and floor, and... Gareth.
"Helloo?" You awkwardly asked more than said, which made Gareth jump.
"Oh hey!" he waved before his eyes widened. "I-I see how this might look, and I promise I didn't set any of this up. Mike shoved me in here and locked the door. I mean we're just best friends! Nothing romantic." Gareth quickly explained, his voice uneasy.
“Oh yeah. O-of course.”
Soon you heard the door click and realized you’d both been locked in.
“ L/n, Gareth has something to tell you. Something verryyy important.” Eddie shouted, emphasizing the word very.
You quickly turned to Gareth, whose face was bright red. “I-I don’t know what Eddie’s talking about.” He stuttered out before practically running to the door and banging on it.
"What the fuck are you doing Munson?"
“Sorry Gareth, this doors not unlocking until you tell L/n what's been bugging youuu.” Eddie said in a sing-song tone. “Oh, and I'm sure L/n'll have something pleasant to say about it. Now I’m taking the freshmen for a drive, by the time we get back you better have told each other what you need to.”
Gareth groaned and fell against the door as you both heard footsteps walking away. There were a few minutes of comfortable silence as you walked around the clubroom and Gareth just sat by the door with his head in his hands.
As much as you didn’t want to admit it, your heart was beating a mile a minute. You and Gareth had been best friends since you were both six when he was trying to skateboard and nearly crashed into you while you were biking.
“Watch it, nerd!”
“Sorry, princess.”
“I’m not a princess, nerd.”
“Oh yeah? Then what are you and why are you riding a pretty pink bike?”
“I’m Y/n L/n. And this is a hand-me-down from my sister.”
“ I’m Gareth Emerson. I got this skateboard for Christmas.”
"Well you need to keep practicing buddy."
"I bet I'm better than you!"
"Let me see the skateboard, nerd."
You couldn't help but smile to yourself while thinking of the day you two met, and other childhood memories. When you skipped school to goof off at the arcade, all the sleepovers, or that one time you slipped down a muddy trench during an especially rainy spring and Gareth found you in the pouring rain and helped you home. You figured that was the day you fell in love. Your parents didn’t even notice you were gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You'd been zoned out for who knows how long, trapped in the clubroom for even longer.
“Helllooo? Princess?” Gareth’s voice was soft, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Augh, I told you to stop calling me that.” You rolled your eyes.
“Did you even hear what I said?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I asked why your smile is so pretty,” he said matter of factly like there was no doubt about it.
“W-what?” You stuttered, his sudden complement catching you off guard.
“Why is your smile so pretty?” Gareth tilted his head like a dog while giving you puppy dog eyes. God that man was the human embodiment of a golden retriever.
The most you could do was shrug before burying your head in your hands, afraid you were blushing.
“I’m sorry.” Gareth’s voice was barely a whisper, so quiet you were surprised you even heard it.
You looked up to see Gareth shaking his head, looking away from you and off to the side.
“Sorry for what?”
“Everything.”
You frowned and walked over to him, sitting down beside him.
“Well, what’s everything?”
“All this.” He motioned to the room. “Promise?”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “Promise what?”
“You’ll still want to be my friend after this? After the shocking news I'm about to reveal?”
You giggled and nodded. “I’ll never not want to be your friend Gareth Emerson. Promise”
“Okay, good cause I’ve like… had the biggest crush on you since we were eight.” When the words were out of his mouth, Gareth brace himself as if he was expecting something catastrophic to happen, or you to slap him.
Instead, you smiled and cupped his face in your hands.
“Can I kiss you?”
Gareth nodded, his face turning a light shade of pink.
You softly pressed your lips against his, and he moved you closer.
Close. This was as close as you'd ever gotten. And as close as you wanted to be, yet still not enough.
Gareth pulled away, a big goofy grin on his face.
“Well, you have me beat Emerson.” You giggled.
“Hm?”
“I think I’ve had a crush on you since the trench incident which was when we were…” you trailed off, trying to remember the exact age.
“Ten.” Gareth quickly finished the sentence for you.
“Yeah, yeah ten.”
“So that means I win by two years.” He smugly declared.
You rolled your eyes with a grin and shook your head.
“Can I sit in your lap?”
Gareth acted like he was thinking about it for a moment. “Sorry, lap privileges are reserved for my gorgeous girlfriend.” He teased.
You pouted, crossing your arms.
“I could be your girlfriend.”
“I’d love that.”
“...Can I sit in your lap now?”
Gareth chuckled, before patting his lap and putting his arms out. “Come here honeysuckle.”
#gareth emerson#gareth emerson x reader#gareth stranger things#gareth stranger things x reader#gareth x reader#stranger things
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Hi wonderful writer and human being... it feels so weird to request anything from you, I usually just watch in awe.
Anyway, could you maybe do an Eddie x reader where they are a couple and the reader is in a really dark place mentally trying to hide it from anyone, but she eventually starts missing school and appointments and dates and Eddie gets worried and when he finds out she hasn't been even leaving bed he comforts her in a really soft and understanding way?
I know it might be a lot, feel free not to do this, it's just something I'd really like and kinda need to see written so I had to try and ask <3
Don't worry, I'm the right person when it comes to writing the more heavy stuff! This goes out to you and everyone else having a hard time while fighting their own demons. I'm always here to listen and so is Eddie. Enjoy and feel better soon <3
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Words: 2.6k
Warnings: Deals with depression
Also on: AO3
“I’m fine.”
“Not today.”
“I’m busy.”
“Not in the mood.”
“Another time, okay?”
He groaned when he thought about the conversation you had with him the last couple of weeks. Shallow. Empty. Like you weren’t really there at all.
For two days, you haven’t even been at school. He could deal with one day; everyone is sick occasionally.
Two days was already pulling on his heartstrings, especially because you’ve barely spent any time together lately.
It was four days in total with the weekend. Almost a week and it was killing him.
Eddie knew you were pushing him away; he just didn’t know why. His mind was going wild, trying to think of any possibility and only coming up with the worst-case scenarios.
He ate his food deep in thought, not even listening to his friends. Four days without a sight of you, three weeks without you even being really there. He hadn’t noticed at first, but it had dawned on him later when you had started to act…weird.
“Eddie? Hello?” Dustin suddenly said and got him out of his head. “What about Hellfire tonight?”
“Canceled.” He huffed out and the table looked at him in shock.
“What? You never cancel it!” Gareth protested, only to earn a death glare from the long-haired man.
“I have important things to handle,” he hissed only to then throw food at Mike. “Wheeler. Y/N is your sister’s best friend, did she hear anything from her?” Eddie looked at the younger boy with narrowed eyes, but Mike shook his head.
“Nancy only said she’s worried about her because she’s canceling all the plans they made,” Mike answered with a shrug and Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek.
If it was for Eddie, he’d leave right now to go and check up on you, but he also knew you’d kill him if he missed any more classes.
The thought made him smile briefly, you were always insisting he didn’t miss a single one so he could get his diploma. Now it was hard to even listen to the teachers because the way you acted had him all worried.
“So, she’s the important thing you need to handle?” Dustin asked and Eddie nodded at him.
“Something’s wrong and I’ll find out after school,” he admitted, and the rest of the desk were silent for a moment before agreeing.
You were a member of Hellfire Club, basically part of their big family, especially as Eddie’s girlfriend. They were worried about you too, so Hellfire could wait for a week.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
You groaned loudly as you woke up with the biggest headache, feeling like death.
A look at the clock told you that it was 8pm. What a wonderful time to wake up. Fourteen hours of sleep wasn’t your record, but it was good enough to ignore the responsibilities of daylight and blocking out the sun completely.
There was barely any light left now and you could barely see the little cracks in your ceiling where the paint was coming off.
You really should get out of bed, get something to eat or drink but staring at the ceiling felt so much better.
Your whole body felt heavy, felt like it was just a burden to you. God, you wanted to sleep again. The more your brain was waking up, the faster the dark thoughts came back.
Not good enough. Not pretty enough. Not worth it. He will break up with you. You’re a loser. Bad at school. Never going to make it in college. No one loves you. You shouldn’t be here anymore. You should just-
You winced at the thought alone. It hurt but there was nothing you could do. Those thoughts had been back for a few weeks now, without a warning. Things had been good. Dating Eddie, making new friends thanks to Hellfire, doing a lot of things with Nancy before you wouldn’t see each other as much anymore because of college.
And then the darkness crept up in you, whispering and entwining you, making it hard to breathe.
You had been able to mask it at first as you always did when it happened. Forcing yourself to smile, telling everyone that might suspect something that everything’s okay.
In the end, the energy costs had been too high. Maintaining it had been impossible, so you started to make excuses, trying not to worry anyone.
Now you were just bound to your bed because as soon as you got up there was this feeling inside of you. The one that also currently made you scratch your arm without thinking about it.
As soon as you realized it you stopped immediately, tears at the corners of your eyes. Why now? Were you not allowed to have good things in life?
Breathing was hard and your back hurt from lying in bed all day and yet, there was no way you’d get up. Your parents were on vacation, and you were really grateful because no one would question why you were in bed all day.
For everyone else you were just sick and that wasn’t even a lie. You were sick but it was all in your head.
Well, technically because at this point, the mental illness had taken a physical turn.
You closed your eyes again, trying your brain to stop.
You just wanted to sleep.
For a moment you thought it would work until you heard a knock on your window. The surprise took you fast and you felt your heart beating out of your chest when you turned around to see Eddie sitting on the roof in front of your window.
You stared at him for a long moment, not sure what to do. What was he doing here? But at the same time, what did you expect? He was your boyfriend; at one point he’d get worried about you.
“Hate to rush you but it’s starting to rain,” you heard his muffled voice through the window. To your own surprise, you turned on the light and actually got out of bed to walk over to the window, opening it for him but immediately going back to bed as he crawled inside.
“Jesus Christ, how do you even breathe in here?” He asked and didn’t close the window behind him. Right. You didn’t open the windows for the last four days, there must be a disgusting smell inside of here.
“Sorry”, you mumbled as you crawled back under the cover. You could feel his worried eyes on you, but you had no energy to do anything about it.
It was unfair to him, you knew that. You should tell him but how would you even start?
“I’ve missed you,” he told you with a soft smile as he walked over to you, sitting down at the edge of the bed. His gaze was wandering over your face and his smile faded. You knew how you looked, that’s why you avoided looking into any mirrors.
“Missed you too.” Not even a lie, being without him just felt so wrong but you just couldn’t. It felt impossible to do anything.
“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” He asked and stroked your cheek slightly. The gesture almost made you cry. Right to the point.
“I’m just sick,” you answered, trying to avoid the actual conversation that would need to happen eventually.
He didn’t buy it; you could see it in his eyes. He was thinking about a physical sickness like a cold or something.
“Please, don’t lie to me, sweetheart. If I’ve done anything to deserve this treatment, please tell me and I’ll make it right.” His voice sounded so sad and it almost broke you apart.
He shouldn’t blame himself for something that was you all along. He probably thought you didn’t love him anymore and you hated that but how do you explain?
Tears were once again gathering at the corners of your eyes and he looked at you with even more worry now.
“Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?” You asked him, trying to find the right words because he deserves to know. You didn’t want him to be in pain because of you.
“I mean, just on a daily basis?” He laughed softly at his words but stopped when you didn’t join in. “But this is different, isn’t it?”
You nodded and tried to sit up a little more, leaning against the wall behind you. “I’m sick. Just…not physically.”
He tilted his head to the side as if he didn’t understand until it seemed to dawn on him.
“Oh,” was the only thing he said, and you let out a huff of amusement. Not a laugh, that would be too much, but you were just glad he understood what you meant without needing to say it out loud. It wasn’t common to talk about it, that’s why it was so hard. You hadn’t even been sure if he would understand.
He looked at you in silence for a moment before rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, pondering what to say.
“How can I help? Can I do anything?” Eddie asked and a tiny smile was at the corners of your lips.
“No, it’ll be fine eventually,” you said with exhaustion in your voice. It was sweet of him wanting to help but you were barely able to form a normal thought that wasn’t dark. He could probably do a million things; you just had no idea at the moment.
“I want you to be fine now,” he muttered, and a single tear rolled down your cheek when he said that. You wished you could be fine too.
He looked you up and down and then got up, holding his hand out. You looked at his hand and then back up to his face, sliding down under your covers further again. Getting up felt so goddamn hard even with him here.
“Trust me,” he whispered, and the words alone felt like he just grabbed your heart with his hand, squeezing it.
For a long moment you looked at his hand again, looking at the rings until you reached out for it, feeling his strong grip closing around you and pulling you up.
You felt dizzy as you got up and your legs were weak after being in bed for so long, but his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you tight. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead.
“How long have you been in bed?” He asked as he took a step backwards so he could look into your face.
“Two days. Except pee breaks,” you admitted, and he sighed, a sad smile on his lips.
“What about food? Water? Shower?” For a man who didn’t seem to know what to do, he seemed to know what to look out for because he asked the right questions.
“Your perception is too high,” you muttered and took a step forward, pressing your body against his again.
He felt like home.
“It’s at +3 at least but please answer my question.” You sighed into him and then shook your head.
“Water a little, food barely, no shower,” you admitted and saying it out loud hurt. Saying it out loud made it feel real. Showing you what kind of failure, you were.
“Come on,” he said and took your hand again, leading you down the stairs carefully, through the kitchen right into the yard. The rain was coming down loudly on the canopy over you.
“What are we doing here?” You asked, not even sure what his plan was now. He was so full of surprises.
“I haven’t been sleeping in all of my biology classes. You need fresh air and get your body going,” he told you with a grin of mischief before he pulled you out of the canopy, right into the rain.
You shrieked a little as the cold water came down on you and he laughed. “Let’s dance.”
“I’m not dancing in the rain with you! It’s fucking cold!” You wrapped your arms around yourself as you already started to shake. It was such a big difference from your smelly room with sticky air and your warm covers.
It was fresh and cold and you hated to admit it but it felt good.
“Be romantic like all the girls in those movies you like,” he teased and took both of your hands in his, his hair already drenched and clinging to his body, the white parts of his Hellfire shirt transparent, hugging his stomach.
You let him pull you into the middle of the yard, his hands warming yours.
“I’m very romantic,” you muttered, and he grinned at you, letting go of your hand to bow down slightly, only holding out one hand as he looked up at you.
“Well then, my lady, may I ask for this dance?” He asked and he was so ridiculous you couldn’t stop the soft laugh escaping you.
As soon as the noise left you, his eyes started to shine some more. You took his hand and he stood up straight, putting his other hand on your waist and started to dance with you in some rhythm you didn’t really recognize at first until he started to sing your favorite slow song.
It was slow enough for you to put your head on his shoulder, enjoying his closeness.
“Promise me something,” he suddenly asked, and your body stiffened, not sure what he was going to say. “If it ever gets this bad, don’t push me away. I want to be there for you.”
For once you were grateful for the rain so he couldn’t see the tears that were running down your face. How did you even deserve a man like him? The dark thoughts were whispering you didn’t but feeling his warmth embracing you was telling another story.
You didn’t know what to say at first so you just nodded, letting a moment pass before you whispered, “I promise.”
After that he started to sing your favorite faster song and he was dancing like crazy to it. It looked so ridiculous, and it took you a moment to join in, his silliness pulling you with him. The longer you danced like idiots in the cold rain from above, the more you started to feel alive again.
Later one the two of you took a warm shower where he took care of you, washing your hair, your back and all the other places where you didn’t have the energy to clean yourself.
He then cooked you a tasty dinner even with his limited cooking skills and the almost empty fridge but at this point your body would have eaten almost everything.
He made sure you drank enough water to make up for the last days and then some more.
You felt exhaustion creep over you again as you were on the couch, watching a movie he had put on. You laid half a top on him, blanket wrapped around both of you as he held you close, drawing little patterns on your skin.
The dark thoughts wouldn’t go away that quickly. You knew that. They would come back, over and over again, maybe for the rest of your life.
There was no cure and even though it hurt to think about that, it was the truth. Not even Eddie could fix you, it was something you had to deal with but knowing you didn’t have to deal with it alone anymore already helped. You had been afraid of him not understanding, of him pushing you away for it and yet here he was, taking care of you.
Together, you were sure that it was possible to hold the demons at bay.
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hii! i love ur writing so much i just had to request for my best girl <33 (this is a bit long & angsty sorry HDJSAHD)
could u maybe do robin x gn!reader where they're bestfriends and the reader has a crush on robs but hasn't told her yet, and the reader is sorta in max's situation but when vecna attacks them they don't make it and unfortunately dies and a few days later robin was looking at the readers stuff and finds a love letter/confession letter for her? thank uu!! <3
redeem the cursed
A/N: wuf nonnie, the ANGST. don’t ask me about canon……… the rules are off in this one, fellas. (also rereading the request, i might’ve missed some of the details? sorry about that in advance!!)
Pairing: Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader
Summary: Sometimes, the right words have their way of coming out at just the right times. Sometimes. 2.7k words.
Warnings: ST4 VOL1/2 SPOILERS, Angst, character death, vecna being a little bitch/a straight up bitch, cursing, pining, grief, canon level gore
"How're you feeling?"
Robin rubs her palm along the hunch of your back, your neck craned down, eyes fixed on your untied laces where you sit on Nancy Wheeler's couch while the rest of them root around upstairs. You’ve known about the symptoms for a day, and an hour ago you saw something you didn’t know how to comprehend. It struck, and she was the first to notice the glazed over, far off look in your eye.
“So far? Teetering.”
You’d been holed up in your room since then. Furiously going through a new package of black pens, pinky smudged with the ink even now. But you saw a massive, alien creature and heard a voice and lost your shit, rambling to her over the phone. She begged you to come along after you swore and swore into the landline’s muffled microphone. And finally agreed. But being around her didn’t make this any less difficult.
“Teetering?”
“Might puke, might pass out. Fucking exhausted,” you sigh, looking up at her as she perches on the armrest, folding her fingers between yours, and leaning her cheek on your knuckles.
“Don’t go dark on me now, buttercup, still gotta see the world, right?”
“Right,” you chuckle.
“Just… think about Paris, right? The swans, the lights, no more Hawkins.” She opens your palm across her cheek with a grin, and you can’t help but smile back at her shred of hope.
“No more Hawkins,” you parrot softly, leaning your temple against her thigh.
Steve clops down the stairs, whistling, and the kids perk up when he orders, “C’mon, let’s go, in the car”—he points to you—“You’re comin’ with me. Babysitting duty. Robin: go get changed.”
“Yessir,” she teases, patting his back as he bounds put the door, swinging his keys around his finger. She peers down at you, tilting her head and pulling you to stand right in front of her. So close, count her pretty freckles. “Stay safe. Love you.”
And you take a deep breath. Her hand comes to your chin, and you hope to God she’s not just inspecting you. That she’s really looking this time. That she could feel the same ache in her chest that you do each time she laughs. That her heart beats a little faster at your mindless innuendos or when she sees you pop through the Family Video door.
“I love you, too, comet. Try not to go insane while I’m gone.” And she laughs and turns when Nancy calls for her.
“No promises! Keep us updated,” she chirps, waving goodbye.
“Sure thing.”
Kicking at the shoebox you set under the driver’s seat, you wish everything would go back to normal. You wish you could take a nap and wake up and spring break will be over and you won’t feel this sinking terror anymore. Max holds your hand between her thigh and yours, and her head rests against your shoulder. You close your eyes, and Steve pulls the beamer across the gravel in front of Max’s house. It births a thick grey cloud, and you hop out of the car. Max takes off running from behind you and up her steps.
Steve rolls down his window when you lean against the car door.
“How you holdin’ up back there? Would’ve let you ride shotgun, but Henderson called it, and I am a man of my word,” he teases, leaning across the sill to squint up at you.
You chuckle.
“I respect it. Every driver needs his co-pilot,” you sigh, “besides, I promised to see Max through this shit show. Anything to help the kid out.”
He nods and sits back, fiddling with the lock and humming to the low radio.
“You wish Robin invited you along, huh?”
You click your tongue and duck your head, laughing when he pokes your side and beams up at you before sidling back into his seat.
“I mean, the kids are great, don’t get me wrong but… obviously, I love spending as much time with her as possible,” you mumble. But he doesn’t laugh or console or anything. His breathing goes shallow and dragged out. And you turn to look at him when he licks his lips.
“So ridiculous… don’t you think now’s a good time to give it up?” he says with a casual shrug, but he doesn’t look at you, even when he goes on, just staring straight ahead, “you’re helpless, admit it. The world is ending, and if she didn’t love you before, she never will.”
“Steve, what are you… what’re you talking about?”
Your heart sinks because that’s not Steve. You glare at him, and suddenly he snaps. And in a deep voice that’s not his own, with eyes devoid and cloudy, he grumbles out, “You’re still waiting? After all this time. You never learn, do you?”
You cover your mouth and sob, trying to stumble away from the car when he gets out, but you trip on a rock and scrape your elbow scrambling across the ground. That’s not Steve. His once young face morphed into slime and veins and sunken eyes.
“Pathetic. You see why you belong with me now, don’t you? Because no one else will accept you. Your friends don’t care about you. You can’t run from it. No matter how hard you try, you’re better off crawling back to me.”
“That’s not true,” you pant, blood staining the sleeve of your shirt, ripping further down the seam when he catches you by the arm. And his claws dig against your skin, spewing fire through your marrow.
“Stop lying to yourself.”
“Steve!” you shout, “Robin, please!”
But it echoes back in a screech, a whine, demented and ringing as the sky bleeds a thick red. Spiraling out through low hanging clouds that swirl and spin and get stuck in your throat. He laughs, deep and harsh, lifting you off the ground and tossing you back against a slick, crawling pillar.
“She does not need you. She never did,” he says with a wet gushing when you scream again. “You could be free from this. All of this. Guilt. Futility. This is your destiny. This is how it ends.”
Against your own will, kicking and squirming, you rise up the pole, face to face with one of the cheerleaders in your english class. Her mouth is cracked open, and tears spring in your eyes when the creature creeps closer and your back slides further upward. And the pressure on your spine is crushing. You can barely breathe with a vine wrapped around your waist.
“Let me go,” you huff. But the air is punched from your lungs and your arms are tugged taut.
“Stop resisting. You cannot win. Just like she cannot love you.”
And when resisting becomes too hard, you surrender. His long fingers creep into view, blocking out the low red light beaming from above.
“Please,” you squeak. But there’s no more fight left. It drains from you, and shock leaves you senseless. Numb to the crackling of your own broken bones. His eyes flash between his knobby knuckles, and you feel the vomit swarming in your throat. And everything goes dark.
There’s a voice calling your name right before it’s over. Muffled and distant, metallic, almost shrill. Chanting your name and shaking your shoulders, but the world is dark. In fact, there’s no world at all. Just the absence of it.
Steve waits to tell Robin. Lets her believe you went home safe, decided the action wasn’t for you. But he knows the truth flew into the air and crashed into his arms, limp and cold, and he was shuddering and sniffling when they carried you to the trunk. It felt brutal, and no one spoke on the way to the graveyard. Steve took care of your body even when Hawkins shattered at the threading. Split into quarters, shockwaves of plasma and light.
And when slippery onyx tentacles strapped Robin to the wall, he thought it was the end. He couldn’t let her die without knowing the truth. So he told her. From across the room, he hollered it, with tears in his eyes, he watched her face fall. A frown tugging and pulling. Her muscles going soft even stretched across the mansion’s crumbling wall. The panic set in. It was life or death for her, and you didn’t have a choice. You were seconds away from knowing how to stop him. She wasn’t there to save you. She could have saved you.
The gym was crowded. Bustling and broken arms and legs and leftover clothes from old money families. His face steels when he reads your letter in the back seat of his car. And it takes him twenty minutes to steady his breathing. And even after the fact, his chest flutters, ready to sob walking across the squealing gym floor.
“Hey,” Steve huffs, cheeks damp with a small shoebox tucked under his arm, other hand holding a plain white envelope with no address and no stamps. Just her name. In haphazard cursive across the back.
“I think this is for you.”
“You wrote me a letter? C’mon, Steve. Read the damn room—”
“Not from me.” He chokes and has to turn away when Robin glances down at the envelope pinched between his fingers. She takes it and sits down on one of the empty cots, scanning and scanning and fussing over your finical handwriting and the scrawl of the last ink your pen could spit out. She closes her eyes and flips open the unsealed lip, still sticky but not wet. Inside, there’s a folded piece of lined paper nestled neatly into the bottom edge of the pocket.
And she slips it out. And unfolds the paper, chuckling because both sides are inky and a little smudged, and the creases are set down the middle. Nearly torn. Like you spent hours tirelessly folding and unfolding and folding the sheet, studying your own writing like it might change last second. Like the things you write will become any less you if you blink hard enough.
She takes a shuddering breath in reading the first word squeezed against the top left corner.
Buckley,
I hope this letter finds you well but who the fuck knows considering it's the end times. I mean, Hawkins has always been like those old rollercoasters they lug around every summer, all rusty and unpredictable and always about to hurl you head first into the afterlife. I remember heading down to the fairgrounds every fourth of July and begging you to go on the Zipper with me. You would remind me how much I hated it last year and warn me over and over, but you always spent your four tickets just for me to be clinging to you by the end. Definitely on the verge of puking all that cotton candy up. God, it was so easy to live back then. To just be alive and still breathing and have that be enough. I miss it.
Sorry I took so long to write your letter. I know you always loved the suspense. All that ‘will they, won't they’ romcom bullshit. But enough of the waiting. I'll tell you why it took so long, and it's not because I'm a tease or a wuss or whatever. I just didn't know what to say. Or what to write, I guess. All I knew is it had to be perfect, but I had nothing to say. I'd put pen to paper and end up with a bin full of sappy openers scribbled on leftover card stock. Finally figured notebook paper would be easier to manage. Trust me when I say it's so goddamn hard to keep my lines straight. Anyways, back to my last chance Armageddon sob story.
I guess I should start from the beginning (ironic, isn't it?). It was my first day at Hawkins middle, sitting next to the girl wearing baggy cutoffs with her hair all wild and thinking, 'maybe moving away from home won't be so bad after all' because you smiled and offered me a piece of bright pink bubblegum, and the rest is history. The next seven years were just me borrowing your new tapes and lying around in my room and scouring the corner store on Fridays, and yet I can still distinguish every single day from the next. You made 'em all special, Buckley.
I tried to write this one first, you know. Spent hours and hours trying to figure it out, but nothing sounded right. Nothing could ever top John Hughes’ scripture. Everything I wrote sounded so monotonous. Felt like one of the infinite monkeys, but I couldn't get anywhere near Shakespeare expertise. Not for you, at least. You make me nervous even in spirit. Need a goddamn twelve step every time you're not around. Call me cheesy, but it's true. It's crazy the way you never failed to make me feel wanted, and now I don't know what there's left to say. I mean, these are my last words. Technically.
So, I guess, here goes nothing. (Sorry in advance for the gag-worthy soliloquy; I know it's ridiculous):
I love you. And if I said it out loud, I know you'd say it back, but you wouldn't get it. It'd be a joke thing like 'ha ha, yeah, babe, gnarly as hell, love you, too,' and I know you always meant well, but I meant it. I meant it like I couldn't go a single day without seeing your face or hearing your voice or asking Harrington about you. Like I'd feel all out of place, and then I'd pull into your driveway and this massive weight would be lifted off my shoulders. You're magic, Buckley, I need you to know that. I've had a crush on you since that first day. I made every excuse in the book for seven years to follow you around like a puppy dog hoping one day you'd throw me a bone. (In fact, I'm still riding on that 'right people, wrong time' excuse). I'm sorry I didn't say something before it was too late for us.
And I'm sorry for all the plans we made together. I'm sorry I won't get to see you graduate. I'm sorry for all the times I didn't pick up the phone, and I'm sorry for being so stubborn. I'm sorry for being a shitty person most of the time. I'm sorry I kept you waiting, and I'm sorry for leaving. But most of all, I'll be sorry for the rest of my life that I never got to tell you how I felt in person.
But trust me, I will not be sorry for our time. And I will not be sorry for knowing you. I mean, really knowing you. There's nothing like it. You're my comfort zone and safety blanket and trust exercise, and I know all of my secrets are safe in that bottomless vault of yours. Honestly, there's no one I'd rather be in love with. I know, one day, you're gonna make someone feel so important. Just promise me you'll let yourself love and be loved in return. It's the meaning of life, comet, and who are we to neglect our purpose?
Even though ours is something I wanted to last forever, sometimes you just don’t get that lucky. No matter how desperate you end up by the end. I used to curse Hawkins, and now I guess Hawkins has cursed me, huh? Gave me all these awesome memories and people—and you—only to screw me over within a decade, and I probably won't even get a proper goodbye in. Well, this is it: goodbye. Don't forget about me, okay? Actually, more importantly, don't forget about you. I hope you make it out alive. If I can’t, I want you to. For me. I swear on all of it: out of everyone in this shitty little town, I'm gonna miss you most. So you better get back out there. And I promise I’ll wait for you. So take your time because there's no one like you, Buckley. I'm serious.
Can't wait to see you again,
your favorite loser and number one fan
P.S. if you forget our handshake, I'm haunting you forever. XOXO!
masterlist
#robin buckley angst#angst#robin buckley x fem!reader#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley x you#robin buckley x y/n#tw: death#x reader#x fem!reader#x female reader#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things spoilers#st4#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x reader#robin buckley#robin buckley fic#stranger things x you#maya hawke#maya hawke x reader#*
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Home Coming
Part 3
The third time was different.
Worse, but…
Better.
The monster had been unfathomable.
They were all horrific, but this one…
It was an amalgamation of blood, bone, and sinew; bubbling melted person.
People Steve had grown up with.
The losses had been numerous;
Heather and her family, that Russian scientist, countless Hawkin’s citizens, Billy Hargrove,
Hopper.
That one hurt the most.
Seeing the tears in Joyce’s eyes as she approached Eleven, taking her in her arms as they sobbed together cut Steve more deeply than he could explain.
He wanted to reach out, offer some words of comfort, but what could he say that would make anything better?
So he stayed where he was, sat beside Dustin as the EMT’s looked them over.
His head was throbbing as he forced his bleary eyes to scan over the paperwork that’d been thrust into his hands. Yet another NDA; third verse same as the first.
No matter how many times he blinked, rubbed at his eyes, hoped, his vision refused to clear.
“It might not”, is what the EMT had told him when he’d complained, shining her little flashlight directly into his swollen eye.
“Three major concussions in such quick succession, it’s a wonder you’ve managed to avoid more averse side effects.”
He sighed in mild frustration, giving up entirely on reading and simply scratching his signature across the dotted line.
He set the clipboard aside with a grimace, unfocused gaze searching across the packed parking lot, the emergency vehicles with their flashing lights, the government agents in their respective stuffy suits and fatigues, the burning mall not even 100 feet away; it thankfully didn’t take long before he found who he was looking for, catching sight of Robin sitting beside Erica in the back of an ambulance across the way, the two sharing a woolen orange blanket as they read over their own paperwork.
She looked overwhelmed while Erica merely looked unimpressed.
Steve fought not to chuckle at that. Laughing would only exacerbate his head trauma.
“Mr. Harrington?”
Steve tensed at those words, going stock still as two shiny black shoes stepped into his direct line of sight, expensive and out of place in the chaos of the aftermath of Starcourt.
His heart hammered in his chest.
He raised his gaze slowly, past the finely pressed lines of the suit, the stiff posture of the man beneath it, only to release the breath previously trapped in his lungs as he was met, not by the stern gaze of John Harrington, but one of the government agents patiently waiting for him to display any sign that he was listening.
It took him another moment of confusion before he realised that he was Mr. Harrington.
“Yes?” he answered, unable to hide his frown at the almost sympathetic look that had overtaken the agents poker face as he prepared to speak.
He didn’t need to. Steve knew what was coming.
He’d been through this song an dance enough for the intricate movements to become muscle memory.
“You couldn’t get ahold of my parents, right?”
The agent’s expression dropped further; never a great sign.
“No, we did,” he said with nod, the paper he held out toward Steve crinkling in the light summer wind. “Your father’s secretary asked me to pass along this message.”
Steve took it, squinting down at the neat script which read:
‘Steven,
Conference ended early. Holiday has been extended. In Norway until September 20th.
J. Harrington.’
“Oh,” was all Steve could say in response, steadfastly ignoring the look of concern he received from the agent.
It wasn’t a surprise, per say, the reaffirmation that his parents were simply too busy, too important, to care about him.
That didn’t make it hurt any less.
-
Little by little, the rest of the party was picked up; Karen Wheeler raced out of her car to pull Nancy and Mike into a crushing hug.
Claudia Henderson’s nervous tittering carried across the entire parking lot as she fretted and fussed over Dustin.
As they led them hand in hand to their car, Charles and Sue Sinclair made both Lucas and Erica swear to never ever scare them like that again.
Joyce, Will, Jonathan, Max, and Eleven left together, Max and El holding each other as they continued to cry; continued to mourn and grieve.
But they had each other.
They all had each other.
And who the hell did Steve have? Brenda, his dads secretary? Or was it Brandy now?
He could never seem to keep them straight.
Who did Steve have to take comfort in? To confide in? To cry to when the nightmares became too much?
His eyes searched the significantly emptier parking lot for only a moment before he once again found-
“Robin?”
She was still there, sitting in the back of the ambulance with her blanket around her shoulders.
He remembered her mentioning her parents were going out of town a little more than a lifetime ago, before Russians and drugs and giant flesh monsters from hell.
She was alone too.
-
The drive back to Steve’s house was silent and slow.
The pain of the last 48 hours had fully caught up with the both of them, so once they finally reached their destination, they wordlessly headed inside and up the stairs.
Robin didn’t say a word about his positively heinous decor, the total lack of personality, she simply caught the clothes Steve tossed to her and together they changed out of their filthy uniforms and climbed into bed.
Sleep, as usual, didn’t come easy, but it was easier with the steady in and out of Robin’s breathing in his ear, the dip and creak of the mattress as she rolled over and threw an arm over Steve’s side, urging him closer.
He rolled to mirror her position, hugging her in tighter until his face was buried in her shoulder.
“This is surreal,” he whispered, unwilling to break the silence completely.
“What is?” she asked just as softly, her voice little more than a rasp.
Steve shrugged as best he could with Robin weighing down his arm.
“Not being alone for this part.”
Robin didn’t need him to explain. She simply squeezed him tighter and whispered:
“Well, sorry to say, but you’re stuck with me, now. You won’t ever be alone again.”
And it was fine.
This was fine.
They were fine.
Or they would be, so long as they stayed together.
Steve allowed himself to relax, drifting off into his first dreamless sleep since ‘83.
Not alone.
Never again.
Tag list:
@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @plyerice27 @alienace @vi-an-te @cr0w-culture
#stranger things#platonic stobin#codependent stobin#stranger things fanfiction#steddie#eventual Steddie#steve and robin
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Chapter 3: I Get My Ass Kicked by an Elven Princess
The next chapter of my Byler Isekai AU is now up on Ao3! We learn about Will's backstory, get some Byler bonding, and most importantly, Mike gets to use his new sword. What could go wrong?
Tags: M, Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Fantasy AU, Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Horror, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Summary:
Mike Wheeler hates High School, so when he almost dies and falls through a portal to another world, he’s not going to complain. Especially not when that world does not only have swords and magic but seems to work exactly according to the rules of his favorite tabletop role-playing game. But his euphoria might be short lived because the party of adventurers he falls in with turns out to be the target of an evil god and the fate of the world might rest on their shoulders. So, exactly like his games of D&D. Except the wanna-be Paladin soon realizes that being a hero is much harder in real life than it is in-game.
-
Or, Mike gets isekai’d into a world where D&D is real.
An excerpt and taglist below the cut:
Excerpt:
By the time Mike, Will, and Jonathan make it back home, the number of people they have to give the bad news to has halved. Because the Byers’ house only has so many beds, Lucas had left with Dustin, ceding his to Mike, and the pair had taken Max with them. Mike’s not sure what to do with the elf’s sudden kindness, but as the sun sets on Hawkins, the day’s excitement catches up with him and he’s not going to turn down a bed. He is a little disappointed to find Dustin had taken his backpack and everything but the books inside of it with him though.
When they arrive, El and her parents are playing cards, the Sorceress and her father competitively while her mother seems to only have joined to while away the time. Mike had finally found a moment to ask Will and Jonathan about their family situation on their way back when Jonathan mentioned that Mike should show the sword to Hop. Apparently Hop wasn’t the boys’ actual father, although neither of them seemed fond of the man who was. Hopper and their mother had found each other years after she left that man, and he had taken to her sons as if they were his own. And when Will and his friends brought El home, he had immediately become protective of the girl. Mike thought that was sweet, and the Byers genuinely seemed to love each other, something he wasn’t always sure applied to his own family.
True to Jonathan’s word Hop watches almost hungrily as Mike pulls the sword from the leather scabbard Murray had also provided while Will tells them about the Wizard’s ‘prophecy’. It’s the first time the harengon looks at him with something other than contempt, but Mike isn’t sure he likes this other expression either.
Thankfully Hop turns back to his cards when Mike’s eyes meet his, apparently unwilling to admit his curiosity. He pulls a red, beautifully illustrated card from his hands and throws it on top of the pile on the table.
El drags her eyes away from the sword and growls when she sees what her father has done.
“You got a plan on what to do with it?” Hop asks, nodding at the sword with feigned nonchalance.
Mike considers it. “Learn how to use it, I suppose. I’m not going home so I might as well take advantage of this.”
“Learn to use it how?”
He frowns. “Uh, like you use a shortsword, I guess?”
Mrs. Byers laughs, looking up from considering her own cards. “He means what class you had in mind.”
“Wait, you get to choose your class?” Of course, back in his world, he had chosen his characters’ classes, but that was a game and he was the author of those characters’ stories. He hadn’t expected that to translate to real life quite so literally.
Hop huffs a barely audible laugh that has Mike stare at him in disbelief. He didn’t think the man was capable of expressing joy.
“It’s like with every other profession,” he explains, with a shrug. “You pick what you think suits you and hope it works out for the best. But trust me, there are enough green-eared youngsters who think they want to become some world famous Wizard and remain the same green-eared nobodies even after years of study.”
Next to Mike, Will rolls his eyes. His expression is fond, though. “I thought we’d agreed, as a family, to never speak about that again?”
“You were a Wizard first?” Mike asks, intrigued. He places the sword on the table where everyone can continue ogling it and takes a seat.
Will shrugs as he joins him. “Well, emphasis lies on tried. I sucked at it and then I got lost in the woods for a week when I was twelve or so and Selune helped me find my way out. So that put an end to it.”
“So you decided to dedicate your life to the goddess?”
“I’m a better Cleric now than I ever would have been a Wizard, and besides, it’s not all that different serving her. Except she helps me finally understand magic.”
Mike weighs his head. It makes sense, although he’s not sure he understands that kind of religious devotion. He supposes if the god his parents believed in was a little more hands on, a little more available and granting his followers magic powers, it would be easier to believe in him. But as it stands Mike doesn’t think he’d be capable of the same kind of faith as Will seems to have in his goddess – not even if some god were to come to him in his dreams tonight.
Far more important to his choice: “Do you think I could learn magic?”
“Every living being has a connection to the magic that flows through this universe,” Will explains. “In some it is stronger than in others, and it manifests in different ways. Not everyone can actively channel magic, but I don’t see why you couldn’t try. Here.” He grabs Mike’s sword, and before his mother can reprimand him for doing that at the table and before Mike understands what his intention is, he drags his thumb over the sharp edge of the blade.
Mike has never considered before what color the blood of fantasy creatures such as dragonborn must be, but what wells up in the path of the blade is red and runs in a thick rivulet down the pad of Will’s finger. He swallows at the unexpected sight of it.
Will hisses slightly as he cuts himself, but his expression when he presents the cut is tranquil. He takes Mike’s hand with his uninjured one, guiding it to hold his bleeding finger, then nods towards the cut. “Don’t worry, I can heal myself if this doesn’t work.”
Mike grimaces. “You might have to. Maybe I will be a wizard.”
Will laughs with a nod at the sword. “Murray said he’s seen you wield that, so I doubt it.”
Mike feels his cheeks warm at how correct that assessment of him is. He’d played a Paladin in Hellfire’s last campaign, and he’d become partial to that class. Pure spellcasters were too complicated for him because there were always too many spells to memorize, but he did like the versatility of having some magic at his disposal. And while he wants to learn some magic now – why wouldn’t he, if magic is real here? – he also wants to learn how to use the sword he’s been given. He won’t have that opportunity if he ever goes back home.
Unofficial Tag List (aka you interacted with my snippet posts, please tell me if you want me to not tag you in the future (or want to be added)): @smalltownwheeler @wheelerpilled @wrong-energy @willthelies @foodiewithdahoodie @doggo9 @gardenfairie @beelikesbyler @beverlysclown @yickarus @sourdough-el @hessolivagant @hesquietoday @oldfashionedmorphine @total-serene560 @bylersrise @hawkinsunderground @longtallglasses @generalstorecashier @usnaavi @camel-casing @bylersbear01 @turningsoft @casatoan
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the bad news: work is kicking my ass, like actively and violently beating the shit out of me
the good news: posting excerpts makes me feel better so have some pining from the flayed!robin au
-
“Welcome to Family Video,” Robin greets dully, automatically, as Nancy walks through the door with Mike, Lucas, and Max. She straightens up when she actually sees them, frowning a little, but she doesn’t say anything else.
“Erica?” Lucas asks incredulously as he and Mike walk further into the store. Sure enough, Erica is standing by the front counter with her arms crossed over her chest. “What are you doing here?”
“Annoying me,” grumbles Robin. She turns her back on them all and goes back to working on something at the computer.
Erica frowns at that, looking pointedly away from Robin. “Renting a movie. What else are you supposed to do at Family Video?”
“Then go pick out a movie,” Robin says, not looking away from whatever she’s working on. Erica scowls at her, then rolls her eyes and follows Mike and Lucas down one of the aisles.
Nancy hardly notices them. She just keeps staring at Robin. Her hair is messy, like she’s been running her hands through it a lot, and it dangles down to hide her face from view. Nancy wants to run her own fingers through it, tuck it back behind her ear and ask her why she looks so tired. She wants to hold her gently and ease her head down to rest on Nancy’s shoulder, wants to rub her back slowly while she talks until she can feel Robin relaxing against her.
She’s trying. She’s trying so hard to give Robin the space she apparently needs. Steve told Nancy—once, a hint of frustration in his voice after she asked yet again why Robin wasn’t meeting the rest of the party in the Wheeler basement—that Robin had found a sense of normalcy, and they couldn’t take that away from her. Nancy doesn’t want to take it away from her. She just wishes it didn’t hurt so much. She wishes normalcy didn’t have to replace her.
Maybe it doesn’t, but Nancy has held too tightly to every relationship she’s ever had. She clung to Steve even though she knew he wasn’t really what she wanted. When it was time to let Jonathan go, she’d had to force herself to uncurl her aching fingers, to relax her death grip on a romance that she knew had long since run its course. She doesn’t want to make the same mistake with Robin. She doesn’t want to hold her so tight it hurts them both. She doesn’t want to ruin what little she has left.
But god, she’s so beautiful, so handsome in a gray, short-sleeved button up with a blue tie Nancy thinks might be Steve’s. She’s loosened it and undone her top buttons, like she’s hot even though it’s cool and cloudy outside. Nancy watches her jaw work as she frowns at the computer, her eyes moving sharply back and forth across the screen.
She’s beautiful, and she’s clever, and she’s brave and she’s so kind, and the kids love her so much even when they haven’t seen her in days, and Nancy doesn’t want to push but she so desperately wants to ask what’s wrong. Was it the creepy old man who never rents movies but loves to come in and talk to Robin anyway? Was it her parents saying something awful again? Was it the incredibly rare occasion that Robin and Steve were fighting? It had only happened once, back before she and Robin were close—did such a time really exist?—but it hadn’t been pretty for either of them.
Or maybe Robin is still having nightmares. The ones where she dies in the Creel house, or where they all stumble back and find Dustin’s body lying next to Eddie’s, or where Max doesn’t wake up. Maybe, even, it’s the Russians again. Dreams of metal walls and glinting instruments of torture and fumbling through a feeble attempt to escape because she’s not in control of her own body.
Nancy hasn’t been around for those dreams, though Robin shared them during one of the sleepless nights they spent curled up in Nancy’s bed. Robin said it’s been a while since she dreamed about last summer, but maybe she spent time around Dmitri and Yuri and found herself spiraling again.
It had happened to Steve. He’d stiffened when he first heard Dmitri speak, then backed up against a wall, hand on Dustin’s shoulder, until Joyce had stepped in and calmed him down enough to make introductions.
Now that Nancy thinks about it, though, she’s not sure Robin has even met Dmitri and Yuri yet. They’re not around very often, and Robin is around even less these days. But, Nancy supposes, she wouldn’t really know either way.
“Nancy.”
She blinks and looks over at Mike, who stares back at her, entirely unimpressed.
“What?”
“Will you rent an R-rated movie for us?”
“What?” She shakes her head a little. “What movie?”
He holds up a case, and after a moment she finds the title, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2. She rolls her eyes.
“Seriously? After everything?”
Mike just shrugs.
“Sure, whatever. But if Holly sees it I’m never driving you here again.”
“Wait, Mike, what about this one?” Lucas holds up a tape Nancy can’t see. Mike walks over, and the two of them start talking again.
Nancy looks away from them and back at the counter. Maybe she should walk over. She can still talk to Robin, right? Surely—
She makes it one step forward before Robin glances at her, then grabs a stack of tapes and moves further away
Maybe not.
#flayed!robin#ronance#excerpts#writing nancy's pov in this has been such a meaty challenge#also i'm fully oversharing this fic at this point buuuuut who cares#not me#hopefully not y'all
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Wherever You Point To I'll Find ~ Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham
Nobody expected a budding romance between Steve and Chrissy when they were invited on this graduation road trip. But, as the two spend more and more time together away from the pressures their families, they just might find that they're the perfect match.
masterlist | prev. | next
Tags: modern au, road trip, mutual pining, fluff, angst, discussion of mental health and body issues, eventual smut, adult themes and swearing throughout
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: This series is five months in the making and I'm so excited for you all to finally get to read it. None of this would exist without the help of @quinnkeerys. This story belongs to them just as much as it belongs to me, and I couldn't ask for a better collaborator in bringing this idea to life.
As she sat down at their usual booth at Benny’s, Nancy pulled a thick binder out of her bag and slapped it down in front of her friends.
“These are the plans for our graduation road trip so far,” she announced. “But I’m still missing a few people’s lists of what they’re interested in doing, and I’m going to need them as soon as possible if we want to make sure that we get to do everything that we want to do. Even Eddie gave me his list already, and I expected him to be the last one finished.”
“Hey! You underestimate me too much, Wheeler. I’m the most reliable guy you know.” Eddie pouted as he wrapped his arm around Nancy’s shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She turned to kiss his cheek and leaned into his embrace.
A year ago, watching this would have killed Steve. Seeing his ex being so affectionate with another guy right in front of him would have had him ditching the rest of their hang out and fleeing the diner. But through his friendship with Robin and Robin’s friendship with Eddie, he and Nancy had been thrust together enough that they’d formed a comfortable friendship.
“I told you guys that I’m fine with just doing whatever you wanna do,” Steve said with a shrug. This is your graduation trip. Not mine. I’m just along for the ride.”
“Absolutely not,” Nancy replied. “This is your trip just as much as it is ours. Come up with a few things that you’d like to do, and I’ll work them into our itinerary. Now, what about you, Robin? Where’s your list?”
“About that,” Robin said as she stared down at her hands. “I kind of can’t go on the trip anymore. My parents surprised me with the plans for a family trip to California last night. All of my grandparents pitched in to make it happen. I couldn’t say no.”
Steve tried not to openly react to what he was hearing. While he was comfortable being friends with Eddie and Nancy, he definitely didn’t want to be their third wheel for the entirety of their trip. He’d never back out on them over this, but he knew that he was in for an uncomfortable couple of weeks on the road now.
“Are you sure you can’t come?” Nancy asked. “We could always postpone it until you’re back from your trip.”
“Not if you guys actually want to do this road trip the way we originally planned it. And I can’t afford to go on the trip with you guys if I want to spend any money on anything while I’m in California. You’re just going to have to go without me. And hopefully not be mad at me at all? Because I’d really hate it if you were mad at me over this.”
“We’d never be mad at you over something like this,” Eddie told her. “I mean, we’re bummed that you’re not coming with us, but shit happens. I’ll just livestream the entire trip for you so it’ll feel like you’re actually there.”
“What Eddie said,” Nancy reassured her. “The trip would obviously be better if you were with us, but we understand why you can’t go. We’ll just have to do something together once we’re all back in Hawkins.”
“Thanks, you guys. I really appreciate this.”
Steve and Robin had to leave shortly after that. Steve had promised that he’d sit with El that night while Hopper was on a date with Joyce, and since he was Robin’s ride home, she had to leave with him.
“So, what are our chances of this trip actually happening without Robin?" Eddie asked once their friends were gone.
"If we don't find a replacement for her? Slim to none. There's no way my parents are going to agree to me going on a cross country road trip with just my boyfriend and my ex. And the only reason my dad was generous enough to pay for our hotel rooms is because he was convinced I'd be rooming with Robin and not you."
"So we just need another girl who’d be willing to room with Steve? How hard could finding one of those be?”
“Eddie, I’m not vacationing with some random hookup of Steve’s. We want to actually enjoy this trip.”
“Then what do you suggest?"
"Well, you and I wouldn't be able to room together anymore, which is a sacrifice I'd be willing to make in order for us to still be able to take this trip, but what would you say to us inviting a certain best friend of yours?"
"You know I'd love nothing more than to spend a few weeks with both of my favorite girls, but do you think her parents would even agree to this? They aren't exactly my biggest fans, and that was one of the main reasons we didn't invite her in the first place."
Nancy shrugged. "Parents love me though," she told him. "I'm sure I could persuade them to let her go if she wanted to come with us. And maybe this will get her to come out of her shell around me a little more."
"Have I told you that you're a genius lately?"
"Only three times today so far. I promise I won't let it go to my head."
Chrissy laid on her bed and stared up at the ceiling clutching her well-loved Fozzie Bear plushie to her chest. Spending yet another Friday night alone was not how she'd pictured her last summer before college. But, ever since Jason had broken up with her and painted her as the villain in their relationship, she wasn't exactly getting invited to parties or group hangs at the mall or the diner anymore. She wasn't one to beg to be included, and she would never show up somewhere where she knew she wasn't wanted, so she had spent most of her summer so far watching whatever her younger brother was streaming and counting down the days until she could leave for college and put this lonely feeling behind her.
She was about to grab her phone and start mindlessly scrolling through tik tok when her screen lit up with a text from her best friend Eddie Munson.
Throw a bag together and tell your mom you're sleeping over at Nancy's. Be there in 10.
Immediately, Chrissy's mood brightened. While her parents openly hated her best friend and discouraged her from spending time with him, they had no issues with her spending time with his girlfriend, and as long as she didn't mention the fact that she was really hanging out with Eddie, they allowed her to go over to Nancy's pretty much whenever she wanted. Sometimes these sleepovers really did happen at the Wheelers' house. Other times, the three of them slept in the living room of the Munson trailer. Chrissy never knew which it would be until she was sitting in Nancy's car.
Shortly after she'd thrown her overnight things into her backpack and promised her mother she wouldn't eat any junk food over at the Wheelers’, Nancy’s car pulled up in her driveway, and she was racing out the door. Chrissy and Nancy had never hung out one on one before, and she would be lying if she said she was comfortable being herself around the other girl, but she was an actress, and she could put on a good enough show just in case her mom was watching. She tossed her bag into the backseat, taking care not to hit Eddie where he was hiding crouched on the floor behind the passenger seat. The trio had this routine down easy by now, and Eddie was popping up to sit in his seat and requesting that Nancy turn off the Top 40 station and switch to his approved playlist as soon as Chrissy’s house was out of sight.
One short ride to Nancy's house later, and the trio was setting up camp in the living room. Nancy announced that she was going to go make popcorn, and she and Eddie shared a look before she left the room.
“So, what was that look about?” Chrissy asked as she made herself comfortable on the mountain of blankets, pillows, and sleeping bags that they’d arranged on the floor.
“That was Nancy’s oh so subtle way of telling me to ask you something while she was gone.”
“And that something is?”
“Well, you know that road trip that we’re planning on taking this summer?”
Of course, Chrissy knew about the road trip. She’d tried to be happy and excited for Eddie when he first told her about it, but there was a part of her that knew it meant she’d be completely isolated from everyone she talked to while he was gone. The only friend she’d retained from the cheer squad after everything went down with Jason had a social calendar filled with all of the parties and hang outs that Chrissy was very much not welcome to attend, and while all of the other drama club kids were perfectly fine to hang out with, they were all wrapped up in summer theater productions and acting workshops that she’d decided not to participate in since most of them ended after she would be leaving for college. So, with Eddie and Robin off on their summer adventure, she was looking at several more weeks of staring at her ceiling and waiting for someone to want her around.
“What about it?” she asked.
“Robin can’t go anymore because her parents are taking her to California, and we were wondering if maybe you wanted to go with us instead?”
“Who’s all going on this trip again?”
“It’s just me, Nance, and Steve.”
“I don’t know. I don’t really know Steve all that well. Wouldn’t it be weird if I was just suddenly there?”
While it was true that Chrissy and Steve traveled in similar social circles, their paths crossed surprisingly little. She didn’t think she’d ever actually spoken to him in the three years that they’d been in school together. The only real impression she had of him came from the gossip of the older cheerleaders and the opinions of her ex-boyfriend. And while the cheerleaders painted a picture of a ladies’ man who most definitely deserved his title as the King of Hawkins High, Jason never had a single nice thing to say about him. He was constantly complaining that Steve was arrogant and selfish, that he only cared about himself and what made him look good on the court instead of what would actually benefit the team. The one time she’d interrupted his rant to point out that Jason was being guarded by two different guys when Steve didn’t pass to him, so he probably just didn’t want them to lose possession of the ball, Jason had yelled at her for being unsupportive of him and just being a bad girlfriend in general. After that, she just tuned out any and all mentions of Steve’s name to avoid that happening again.
Now that she and Jason weren’t together anymore, she was sure that most of what he said had to be an exaggeration fueled by his own monstrous ego, but there was still a part of her that was wary about what Steve was actually like.
“Why would it be weird?” he asked. “You’re my best friend, and I want you around, and that automatically makes it not weird. And anyway, you and Nance would obviously be bunking together, and I’m not gonna just abandon you with some guy you barely know to spend all my time with my girlfriend. If you’re coming on this trip, it’s so you and I can have some crazy adventures before you go away to college and I slowly waste away in agony because I can’t annoy my best friend every day anymore. You'll be sick of me by the time we get back home. I promise.”
A prolonged adventure with her best friend sounded like the perfect thing to lift Chrissy out of the funk she was in, but she was still hesitant to say yes. Because this wasn’t going to be just the two of them. This was them and Nancy and Steve. And, while she was perfectly capable of being herself around Eddie and not worrying about how he saw her, she couldn’t say the same about the other two. And three weeks was a long time to keep up the appearance that she was perfect without any real alone time. There was always the fear that she would do something to embarrass herself or somehow ruin the trip for everyone because she couldn’t live up to the expectations people set for her. She always ended up disappointing people when she wasn’t the perfect girl she was supposed to be.
But she never disappointed Eddie. Even when he had every right to be disappointed in her, he never made her feel bad about herself. This was the guy who had kept up a snapchat streak with her for nearly 1300 days even though he hated snapchat and didn’t get the point of streaks. The guy that let her cry on his couch for hours when Jason dumped her and then helped her bleach her hair back to her natural blonde since she’d only colored it because Jason said he had a thing for redheads. The guy who dropped everything to stay over at her house when her family was out of town and Jason had started spreading rumors about her just so she wouldn't have to be alone with her thoughts. The guy who never once said 'I told you so' even though he had every right to do just that. He was her best friend, and she trusted that he would never put her in a situation where she'd be uncomfortable.
"Say I agree to go on this trip with you," she started as she pulled her knees to her chest. "And I'm not saying I'm agreeing to this. Just, hypothetically speaking, if I were to tell you right now that I want to go on this road trip, do you actually think we'd be able to get my parents to let me go with you?"
"It might take a little convincing, but I think Nance and Harrington outweigh my bad influence, don't you?"
"Oh, I don't know about that. I think you're bad enough for at least three people."
"And don't you forget it." He smirked and playfully pointed a finger at her. "But I'll be on my best behavior when it comes to talking to your parents. So, you'll think about it?"
"I don't need to. I'm in."
Trip's got a 4th again. More details to come. Get your list to Nance by tomorrow night or she hunts you for sport.
"Why is Nancy hunting you for sport?" El asked as she peeked at the text that had just appeared on Steve's phone.
Steve paused making their dinner and went over to check his phone where he'd left it on the kitchen table.
"Road trip stuff," he told her as he sent off a thumbs up emoji in reply to Eddie's text. "Which reminds me that I gotta tell Hop we're leaving on Monday so I won't be able to come over for a few weeks."
Steve wasn't entirely sure how he'd become Hopper's go-to babysitter for El. Frankly, the girl was too old to really need a babysitter now that she was in high school, but Hopper felt better having someone in the house with her when he had to work late or had a date night with Joyce, and the girl didn't like to be left on her own for too long either. Steve didn't know everything about what her life had been like before Hopper, and El never talked about her past, but he'd been old enough to understand that things weren't exactly great for her when the town first found out that Hopper had taken in a foster child and the gossip mill got going.
So, when El had become friends with the party, he started to feel just as protective of her as he felt for the rest of the kids. Joyce and Claudia must have talked him up to Hopper because Steve was one of the few people trusted to look after her. Maybe it was because he treated her like a friend instead of like a little kid, but El liked having him around, and he thought she was a pretty cool kid, too. He was happy to watch movies with her and make sure she ate something other than Eggos for dinner if it made her feel safer. Besides, he much preferred hanging out with El at Hopper's place to being alone at his own.
"How long will you be gone?" she asked.
"Three weeks, I think," he said as he went back to mixing the cheese powder into their boxed mac'n'cheese. "I'm not really sure. Nancy's planning the whole thing."
"So I have to wait three weeks to find out what happens with Haley and Andy?"
The pair had been binging Modern Family together whenever Steve was over at El's request, and she was very invested in Haley's dating life.
"You know, you could watch a couple episodes without me. I wouldn't be mad."
The offended look on El's face let Steve know that wouldn't be happening.
"I would never watch without you," she told him. "It's our show."
"Then you'll just have to be patient," he said as he turned off the stove. "Or we could eat in front of the TV to maximize our viewing time, so you get the answers you need tonight. And anyway, three weeks is barely any time at all. I'll be back before you know it."
"That reminds me," El said as she got up from the table. "I have something for your trip."
As El bounded out of the kitchen to head to her bedroom, Steve served up their dinner and carried it over to the coffee table. Shortly after he'd sat down, El made her way back in and sat down next to him on the couch.
"This is for you." She held out her hand, and nestled in her palm was a tiny, painted clay squirrel.
"Did you make this?" he asked as he took the figure from her to examine it more closely.
"I did. It's Mister Fibbley. I thought that you could take him on your trip with you and maybe take pictures of him doing all the cool things that you're doing. And when you get back, you can tell me all about his adventures with you. Only if you want to though."
"I think that can be arranged."
"Really?"
"Definitely. You'll have so many pictures of Mister Fibbley that you won't know what to do with them," he told her. "Thanks for this, El. I really love it."
El beamed as she leaned over to hug Steve, and he wrapped his arms around her in turn being very careful not to crush his gift.
After hearing that Steve Harrington was the one driving them around on this road trip, it was easy enough to convince Chrissy's mother that she should be allowed to go on this trip. Their family had a membership at the same country club as Steve's parents, and that was enough for her mother to think she wouldn't get up to too much trouble. That coupled with the fact that Nancy promised there would be no co-ed sleeping arrangements meant that she was given permission to go.
The real hard part was sitting through the lecture her mother gave her about sticking to her diet and keeping up appearances while she was on this trip. Chrissy's only solace was that she'd at least waited until Eddie and Nancy were gone to start this lecture.
"I'm just saying that you'll need to watch what you're eating a lot more carefully now that you're really done with cheerleading," she said as she sat down next to Chrissy on the edge of her bed. "With those extra workouts gone, it's going to be a lot easier for you to end up gaining that freshman fifteen, and we don't want you to have a head start before you even get to college."
"It's not like I'm going to be sitting around doing nothing for this whole vacation. I mean, yeah there's going to be a lot of time just sitting in the car, but Nancy has all these plans for things we're going to be doing, and I'm going to be walking around so much that it'll be like I still have those extra workouts."
"I know how these trips go, Chrissy. You four will be too tired to make appropriate meal choices after everything you've done throughout the day, so you'll end up going to a drive through because it's quick and easy. And what happens then?"
She gazed at her daughter and paused to wait for her to answer.
"Then I end up bloated and feeling sluggish, and because I'm bloated and sluggish, I won't want to do anything which just makes it worse," Chrissy said as she stared down at her shoes. They'd had this same conversation more times than she could count, and each time it left her feeling worse than it had the time before. Just pounding it in that her entire body was her worst feature, and she would never be the perfect size no matter how much she exercised or monitored her calorie intake.
"Exactly. And if you don't want to do anything, how will you remember how to hold yourself and act in public? Your image is everything, and you'll continue to do nothing but sit in your room moping about unless you put in the effort to impress people. It's just a shame that you couldn't make things work with Jason. Then you wouldn't be having these issues now."
There was a part of Chrissy that thought her mother wouldn't be saying that if she'd seen what her relationship with Jason was really like, but she never told her what had really happened. She didn't know how she would react, and she was too afraid to find out now. Too afraid that she'd be appalled that she stayed, and even more afraid that she'd be ashamed that her daughter wasn't strong enough to endure it all and make it work.
Instead, she just gritted her teeth and beared it like she always did when her mother talked to her like this. It was all she could do in the moment without completely falling apart. Once the lecture was over, she'd be left alone, and she could go over every little comment her mother made and come up with ways to attempt to be better so she'd never have to hear those words again. So far, nothing she'd been able to come up with worked, but something had to eventually.
"I promise I'll make good choices on the trip," she said. "Really and truly. I know how important this is."
"You know I only want the best for you, right? I expect this perfection from you because I know you can achieve it. You just have to try a little harder."
"I know."
But even as she told her mother what she knew she wanted to hear, she knew that she'd never live up to the standards that she was held to.
The morning that they were set to leave on their trip, Steve headed straight to the trailer park. He'd been texting with Eddie the night before, and Eddie'd told him that they'd all be waiting there for him when it was time to load up the car and head out. When he pulled up in front of Eddie's trailer, Eddie and Nancy were sitting together on the front steps, and another girl that he thought recognized but couldn't place was standing off to the side talking to Eddie's uncle. They'd never actually told him who their new fourth was, so he assumed that was her.
"Harrington!" Eddie jumped up from his spot and bounded over to his uncle and the girl as Steve got out of the car. "Allow me to introduce you to my best friend and the girl who'll be riding up front with you for the next three weeks. You remember Chrissy Cunningham from school, right?"
Of course, Steve remembered Chrissy. She'd been co-captain of the cheerleading squad during his senior year, and she'd always been the loudest person cheering during every basketball game and pep rally. They'd traveled in the same social circles, but he didn't think he'd ever actually spoken to her since she seemed to avoid a good majority of the team hangouts and parties, and when she did attend, she'd never left Jason Carver's side. But the Chrissy standing in front of him looked different. A lot quieter and more reserved, and he was pretty sure the Chrissy that he remembered wasn't a blonde.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Chrissy said, sounding a lot more quiet and reserved than Steve remembered her being.
"You, too," he replied. He barely had time to get that out before Eddie was pulling him over to start loading everyone's things into the car.
"So Chrissy's our new fourth?" he asked as he opened his trunk.
"Yeah, I hope that's cool," Eddie said as he started placing bags in the trunk. "I know you guys don't really know each other, but we needed another girl or Nance's parents never would have agreed to this trip."
"I get it. She seems a lot quieter than I remember her being. How's that work being best friends with you?"
"Very funny. It's just because she doesn't really know you yet. She'll warm up to you in no time, and then you'll see that she's even louder than I am."
"I find that hard to believe, but I'll take your word for it." Steve paused to place the last of their bags in the trunk. "Am I remembering this wrong, or was she a redhead when I was still in school?"
Eddie slammed the trunk closed as his joking demeanor all but vanished.
"Hair can change, Harrington," he answered. "Don't worry about it. And don't bring up the red hair phase with her, okay? It's kind of a sore subject."
"Noted. I promise I won't bring it up."
The two made their way back over to where Wayne was giving goodbye hugs to the girls.
"Now, you two, be sure to take care of these two while you're on the road. I'd hate it if anything happened to my two favorite recent high school grads."
"Hey! I graduated this year, too!" Eddie pouted. "And I'm your nephew!"
"And yet these two are still my favorites. Imagine that."
Wayne smirked at Eddie before pulling his nephew in for a long goodbye hug. When they pulled apart, he acknowledged Steve with a slight head nod.
"Have fun, be safe, and make sure to take lots of pictures for me, okay?" Wayne said as the group headed towards the car.
The group promised him more pictures than he would know what to do with before piling into the car. And with that, they were off.
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Head Over Heels
Book 2 - Chapter Two: Trick or Treat Freak
Steve Harrington x gn!reader (eventually)
Head Over Heels Masterlist
Summary: Nancy and Steve convince you and Jonathan to go to Tina’s party, you attempt to comfort one of them after a fight ensues.
Warnings: mentions of death, alcohol
Hawkins High was buzzing with energy on Halloween. Everyone was ready to party, pull pranks, get absolutely shit faced, etcetera, etcetera. You were frankly ready to spend the night at home, alone.
Jonathan had offered to take you trick or treating with him and the kids, and of course there was Steve’s invitation to Tina’s party. Neither of which you really felt like doing.
Nancy had called you the previous night, practically sobbing into the phone. Apparently dinner with the Hollands hadn’t gone too well, and they were looking into getting a private investigator to look into Barb.
You knew there was practically no way anyone would be able to find out what actually happened, hell, it was still hard for you to believe what happened, but it might bring more attention to you, Nancy, and Steve.
Nancy and Steve had told you that you were in fact going to Tina’s party tonight, and so was Jonathan. A part of you felt like maybe the two of them were just trying to make you guys feel included. You weren’t a part of the perfect Steve and Nancy bubble, but you all went through everything last year together, and they wanted the two of you to feel like you were important to them.
“Jonathan will pick you up after he’s done with the kids, then you’ll meet us at Tina’s, okay?” Nancy asked. It was less of a question though, more of a statement.
“Alright, fine.” You sigh dramatically, falling against Nancy.
She laughs, and pushes you off of her.
You had taken Jonathan up on his offer that night, accompanying him and the kids for trick or treating. You figured you might as well go with him if you were going to be glued to his side for the rest of the night anyways.
You told your family you were going out with some friends for the night. It wasn’t a total lie, you were in fact going out with Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve, there were just going to be a few others there too.
You spotted the Byers’ car pull up to the Wheeler’s house across the street. Will got out of the car, and bounded over to the other boys, a large camera in his hands.
You walked over to the car, and opened the passenger door.
“Letting Will go trick or treating alone?” You ask Jonathan.
He nods. “Yeah, I figured why not give him some freedom. Let him feel like a normal kid for a little while.”
You get in the car, and head over to the diner before going to Tina’s party. You figured you might as well get some food before you went somewhere where the only offerings were going to be various alcoholic concoctions designed by your rowdy classmates.
The diner was decorated for the holiday. Jack-o-lanterns lined the ground outside. Various streamers in black, white, and orange hung from the ceiling. Plastic spiders sat on the counter tops in nests of frayed cotton balls.
“That’s gotta be a health hazard.” You say as the two of you take a seat.
You’re only seated for about five minutes before Benny comes over and puts food down in front of you. His diner had become a popular hangout spot for the four of you after saving Will. He’d memorized your orders, and eventually just stopped asking what you all wanted to eat.
“Just the two of you? Where’s the hair and his girl?” Benny asked.
“At a party.” Jonathan answered.
“And you weren’t invited?” Benny raises an eyebrow.
“We’re crashing later.” You tell him.
Benny nods, then heads back to the kitchen.
“Do we really have to go to this party?” Jonathan sighs.
“I’m pretty sure Nancy would be mad at us if we didn’t at least make an appearance. And I know you don’t want Nancy mad at you.” You teased him.
“And what about Steve?” He teases back. “You want him to see you, huh?”
You scoff. “I don’t know what your talking about.”
“Yeah, there’s totally nothing going on between you and Harrington. That’s why you wear that everyday.” He gestures to the necklace around your neck.
Your hand instinctively moves to the small bat that sits on your collarbone.
“It was a gift.”
Jonathan laughs, then continues eating his food.
“There’s nothing going on. We’re just friends. He’s in love with Nancy.”
“I honestly don’t know what she see’s in him.”
“I used to think the same thing, but after last year? I don’t know, it’s like he’s slowly changing, becoming a better person?”
Last year, if someone had told you that you’d become friends with Steve Harrington, that you’d actually grow to care for him, you’d have thought they were crazy. Steve used to really piss you off, walking around school like he was a king, like everyone should bow before him. But now it’s like he’s a whole new person. He’s no longer the arrogant asshole from before. Now you look forward to seeing him in the halls, to sitting with him in chemistry class.
“And all it took was a monster from another dimension.” Jonathan snorted.
After finishing your food, you paid Benny, then drove to the address on the bright orange flyer.
Music was blasting from inside the house, teens were crowded together on the lawn, occasionally pushing themselves back inside. You looked at the crowd of sweaty people, each one holding at least one red solo cup in their hands.
“Alright, we go in, say hi to Nancy and Steve, then sneak back out and go home.” You say.
Jonathan nods, then the two of you get out of the car. Jonathan speed walks to the door, and pushes it open just enough to slip inside. You follow him in and are quickly pressed between the door and other bodies in the room.
You grab Jonathan’s wrist as he maneuvers through the crowd, attempting to stay close to him.
“Nice costumes.” You hear someone say.
You turn to see a girl in all black smiling at you.
“Thank you. We’re going as people who hate parties.” You tell her.
She laughs. “I’m Samantha.”
“Y/n, and this is Jonathan.”
Jonathan gives her a small wave. You look around the room, and spot Nancy and Steve. They’re dancing together, Nancy drinking from a cup in her hand. Steve’s got a massive smile on his face, his hair is falling into his eyes, which are covered by a dark pair of sunglasses.
“I’m gonna go say hi.” You tell Jonathan.
You push through the crowd of teenagers as Nancy walks back to the kitchen. Steve follows behind her, and tries to pull her away from the bowl of what you can guess is spiked punch.
She tries to pull away from him, causing one of them to tilt the cup in Nancy’s hand. The red drink covers her once white blouse, staining it a light pink color.
“What the hell?” She asks, then leaves him to find a bathroom.
“Nance,” He follows after her.
Everyone standing around the kitchen watches in an awkward silence. You debate following them upstairs, but decide to just wait for them there.
Nancy looked upset. You’d seen her mad at Jonathan before, you’d been in the middle of some of their arguments, but you’d never seen her mad at Steve. At least not since the movie theater incident.
Jonathan comes over a few minutes later.
“Where’d they go?”
“The bathroom. I think they were arguing, I don’t know. A drink spilt on Nancy’s shirt, I think they went to clean it.”
Nancy comes back downstairs first. You can see the grimace present on her face. She spots you and Jonathan, and stumbles over to you.
Jonathan catches her in his arms as she trips over her own feet.
“It’s bullshit.” She mumbles.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask her.
She turns to you with her eyebrows furrowed. “It’s all bullshit Y/n.”
“Okay, I’m gonna take her home, do you want a ride?” Jonathan asks you.
You sigh, then shake your head. “No, I’ll be okay.”
He nods, then steers Nancy toward the door. You watch as he tries to keep her upright.
Steve still hasn’t come back downstairs, so you make your way up, dodging people who’ve decided to hang out on the stairs.
The stairs take you up to a dark hallway, various doors are shut, and some open, more than likely with couples occupying them. You really don’t want to have to knock on every door looking for Steve, and luckily you don’t have to.
Steve walks out of one of the doors , and brushes past you. You can tell that something went down between him and Nancy. He’s got his hands in his pockets, and his eyes trained on the ground.
“Steve!” You follow him back down the set of stairs, and outside. “Steve wait!”
He huffs, then turns around. “What?” His voice is sharp.
You halt, keeping a few feet between the two of you. “Are you okay?”
Steve scoffs. “Am I okay? Why do you care? This is all bullshit, right? I’m bullshit, you’re bullshit, everything’s bullshit!”
“Steve, we’re friends, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” You try to tell him.
“Since when are we friends? We hate each other! You know what, we don’t have to play nice with each other anymore. I’m pretty sure Nancy’s done with me.”
“I just wanna make sure you’re okay you dick! But fine, wallow by yourself, see if I care.” You wrap your jacket around yourself tighter, and start walking away.
Steve immediately knows he’s screwed up. “Hey! Where are you going?” He calls out to you.
“I’m going home!” You tell him.
“Shit.” He sighs, then jogs to catch up with you. “Let me give you a ride home.”
You don’t respond to him, instead you just keep walking.
“C’mon Y/n. I’m not letting you walk home by yourself. Not when there could quite literally be a monster hiding in the bushes.”
It’s a tempting offer, not taking the chance of being snatched up by a monster.
“Fine.”
You follow Steve back to his car. The drive back to your house is filled with silence, the only sounds to be heard are the quiet radio, and the sounds of other cars passing by.
Steve steals glances at you every so often. He didn’t mean to blow up at you, he knows what happened between him and Nancy wasn’t your fault. He can’t help but want to reach out to you. Pull your hands away from where they are, tucked under your arms which are crossed over your chest. You’re facing the passenger window the entire ride home, not once looking back at him.
He parks the car in your driveway, and watches as you unbuckle your seatbelt. You’re about to open the car door, when his hand on your arm stops you.
“I’m sorry.” He says quietly. “I’m sorry for what I said. I don’t hate you, and I’d like to think of you as a friend…”
You look into his big, brown eyes. He looks like a puppy dog, begging for forgiveness.
“I don’t hate you either.”
Steve lets out a sigh of relief.
“But I still think you’re a dick. Sometimes.”
Steve laughs, and shakes his head.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
You sit there for another moment, watching him.
“Are you okay?”
Steve sighs. “I don’t know.”
You reach out for his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “Well, you can talk to me about it if you want. Because we’re friends.”
You find a pen in his glovebox, and pull his hand closer to you. You write your phone number out on the back of his hand.
“If you ever want to talk.”
He gives you a soft smile.
“Goodnight Y/n.”
“Goodnight Steve.”
HOH Taglist: @nptnewr @rishlurh @scoobiessnacks @wisdomcrys @parker-natasha @missbunsworld @eddiemunsons-lover @lilyhw1
#stranger things x reader#stranger things rewrite#stranger things#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#slow burn
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