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#I might not end up doing the request either if I’m unsure what to do or am not comfortable with it btw
silksongeveryday · 1 year
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Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 39
vibe check
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not requested just felt silly
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grimm-writings · 1 month
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Hi there!
I'd like to request something for the Laios party x reader where reader licks rocks like how archaeologists sometimes do to determine if it's a rock or a fossil. They just won't stop licking stuff. One moment you are just having a chat and walking side by side and the next reader grabs a rock and licks it. How would they react to their crush licking things that are certainly not food?
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“stop licking the damn thing!”
…ft! touden party x gn! reader, platonic izutsumi & reader
…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, grimm doesn't know shit about rocks
…wc! 342 ; 400 ; 405 ; 344 ; 303 = 1794
…notes! this ask enraptured me i had to complete it posthaste. i’m not an expert in archeology or geology, but i hope you enjoy! 
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Laios
“Ooh, can I have a lick?”
His ass does NOT give a fuck.
You could do anything and he wouldn’t be fazed I’m dead serious.
Honestly, once you do it in front of him he’d steer the conversation towards your study and how you figure out each time what is a rock and what is a fossil.
He may not fully take in all the information you give him.  This isn’t a topic he’s admittedly too interested in.
Honestly he’d probably take up some of your advice and see if he tastes monster he can figure out certain things about it.  Considering most monsters are made of raw meat, he has to be held back by your fellow partymates.
Someone (Chilchuck) usually has to encourage you to not “enable his behaviours.”
Overall, Laios simply does not judge!  He’s open and welcoming, and will even take part in your study with you!
(It’s an added bonus that he really likes how you explain things to him…)
Almost like an eager dog, Laios leans over your shoulder to look at the stone in your hand.  Prepared to explain yourself, like usual, you take a breath. “May I?” he interrupts you.  You still for a second.  Does he mean…? You slowly lift the rock up to the taller man behind you.  You don’t have any words as he leans down to give a small lick. You’re almost flattered from how open he is to it. At the taste, Laios’ eyebrows furrow, and he seems to seriously try to dissect the flavour.  He hums and tilts his head to you.  “Salty?” “Yeah,” you reply, slowly growing a bit more comfortable as you get an excuse to talk about your study, “so that means this rock might contain evaporite minerals.” Laios smiles slightly, leaning back to his full height to converse with you in a more casual position.  “Which are?” Your conversation continues, with Laios taking mental notes that he’ll hopefully remember for later next time he comes across a monster. Maybe if you find a gargoyle…
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Marcille
Sorry she is so judgemental.
You are so lucky she likes you or else she’ll loudly give her opinion on how gross it is.
Well, that is until she learns the context as to why.
She’ll still be a little bit unsure, wondering if it’s proper conduct at all.
Marcille is trying her best, she really is, but you can’t just end a conversation so suddenly because you saw a rock, licked it in front of her, and said “hm… sedimentary.”
She wonders every day what she did to deserve such an… interesting taste in crushes. 
Though, like all things, give Marcille some time and she’ll warm up to your habits a bit more.  It may even be that she’ll be wondering about her study of the dungeon, running her hand along the wall, and thinking that she could call out to you to taste the wall and tell her the material.
She may not try out the method herself, but she’ll at least tolerate how you do it.  There’s a science behind it, after all…
Marcille stares as you lick your lips and hum to yourself.  Her mouth is a thin line and she’s trying her best not to come out with a disapproving comment. “Any… interesting findings…?”  She stiffly asks instead, gripping Ambrosia as if you’ll try licking her to figure out the levels of Mana too.  You can never be too cautious, even if she is only made out of wood. You smile at Marcille, either blissfully unaware of her austerity or pretending to be.  You hold up the stone in your hand and outline something with your finger.  “I think if we break this, we might find some fossils inside it.  You can keep it for your research if you want.” Marcille’s ears perk up slightly at that.  “For… me?”  She asks aloud, as if there’s anyone else who’d be interested in dungeon rocks.  As soon as she processes it she’s flushed and avoiding eye contact.  “I mean, this is your field of study, not mine!  I couldn’t possibly…” But you take her hands in your own, and place the fossil in her palm.  Marcille’s breath hitches when you take her fingers and fold them over the stone. “I trust you to come up with something.”  You beam at the elf, and she thinks that she might just have to take a chance in your skills.
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Chilchuck
Not exactly open to it, not entirely critical about it either…
…But you will get a bit of a look whenever you do it.
He might be more the kind to make sure you aren’t outright doing it at stupid moments.  You better not get any ideas looking at those statues!
Sometimes you’ll be about to hold the stone up to your mouth, and right when your tongue is about to touch it, you’ll hear Chilchuck sigh a “don’t.”
Honestly this guy is treating you like a dog with something it shouldn’t have in its mouth.  Don’t worry, worrying and fretting is how he shows his love.
Even if he doesn’t like admitting to it…
If you try to explain how licking things helps in your study, Chil is inclined to raise his eyebrow and say that your field must be full of weirdos.
Then again, he’s the one who likes you so maybe he shouldn’t be too harsh…
He’s willing to let you do what you need to do but that doesn’t mean you’re free from his scathing commentary.
Crouched down, you analyse some rock in front of you.  It stands out a fair bit from most of the other geodes down here.  What could it be…? You lean in, your tongue grazing the stone slightly, and you lick.  The tip of your tongue familiarises itself with the taste.  Maybe metamorphic…? “Are you serious?”  You freeze at the sound of Chilchuck’s boyish voice.  On your hands and knees licking rocks isn’t exactly the ideal position to be judged in, even as you turn to look at the half-foot, arms crossed.  “Senshi is in the middle of cooking, no need to resort to eating rocks.” You roll your eyes.  You’re used to how Chilchuck treats your study at this point.  “I was just curious.” Chilchuck scoffs, walking up to pull you by the back of your collar up onto your feet again, which you do with some coercion.  “Yeah sure,” he says, “just wanna confirm you haven’t completely lost your marbles yet.” You look up at him, and squint.  Holding back a laugh, you mutter, “was that…?” “No, it wasn’t a dad joke,”  Chilchuck sighs, leaving you to your devices again.  “Just don’t do anything stupid when no one’s watching.” He hopes even as you giggle and confirm, you won’t notice the bright blush blooming on Chilchuck’s cheeks and tips of his ears.  How embarrassing…
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Senshi
Also winning the dgaf war I fear.
He’d watch you lick some of the rocks you had picked out from your travels while resting.
It comes as no surprise that it then crosses his mind if the flavour changes when cooked, which he asks if he can do with some of your selection.
You can use your imagination on how Marcille and Chilchuck reacted when told that today’s dinner is … just rocks.
(Laios is disappointed that it isn’t any cool monster rocks.)
One delightful montage later, and ‘tis finished!  Since they are for your research, Senshi insists you have the first bite.
Crunch… and oh, such unique flavours!
You gush to Senshi about how this is a major breakthrough in how different minerals react to cooking conditions, and he gives you his observations too.
Honestly, just sort of wholesome bonding!
“Aye, this one cooked easily, while this one took plenty more time.” You nod eagerly as you watch Senshi point to two different stones.  “That’s because one is an igneous rock, which is magmatic.  The other is a sedimentary rock, which carries different minerals from lakes and oceans.  Separation in cooking must have resulted in different reactions!  I wonder how different metamorphic rocks would react…” As you mumble to yourself, Senshi happily continues his meal-making, occasionally responding back to you with hums and comments about what else each observed in his experimentation. Even when you had finished up your meal entirely, you thanked Senshi with the widest grin on your face.  He couldn’t help but be just a little flattered when you go on to joke that you should bring him home with you so he can help with your research. In return, Senshi listens to you, and hangs on your every word as you explain your findings to him.  Even if not too nutritious of a meal, the minerals from the rocks provide some calcium and other such buffs! And well…  If he can keep that happiness prolonged with his cooking, then he’s doing a very good job providing for you indeed!
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Izutsumi
“Why are you eating rocks?  Looks gross.”
Make way for the #1 hater…
Izutsumi refuses to listen to any such rationalities you make about your study or why you lick rocks (even though she’s the one who asked), she’s still finding it icky and weird.
You’d have to fight fire with fire when it comes to her, you’ll question why she does some habits she does in return – such as licking her hand.
She’ll look at you like you’re stupid, before telling you that it’s a way for her to clean herself and notice if there’s anything caught in her fur.
“Ah, so like how I would lick rocks to identify anything embedded in them too!”
…How dare you try to rationalise yourself with her own logic, heathen.
Jail for reader.  Jail for 1000 years.
She’s not one to so readily accept other people’s weird quirks, but eventually she has to find that she’ll look stupid if she doesn’t…  It’s a bit of a dirty scheme, but it works.
“Come on, Izu, just give it a try!  I promise it just tastes like water.” “What kinda water?!”  She shoots back. You pause.  “W…Water?” This is how the argument between whether or not water has a flavour comes to be.  Izutsumi insists that some water tastes icky while others taste nice.  You have to explain that this pure water simply doesn’t have a taste.  She doesn’t believe you. In fact, Izutsumi makes you give the sedimentary stone another taste before affirming, it just tastes like water.  She’s about to grab your shoulders and shake you.  What kind of water?! It takes plenty of encouragement and an immediate failsafe orange juice Senshi squeezed out for her to ‘get rid of’ the taste when you get Izutsumi to taste the stone. She still hasn’t forgiven you… 
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ma1dita · 6 months
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about you
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this was a request! read it here
words: 4.3k (longest one yet ohmy)
summary: james potter takes ‘easier’ for granted and finds out he now has a living reminder of that
warnings: none! sort of au, everyone lives and they win the war— angst angst angst, maybe open ended!!! groveling james and reader is a MOTHA (afab!)
a/n: guys i missed writing angst…i’m a deeply sad soul at heart so i enjoyed this a lot. I listened to ‘night shift’ by lucy dacus writing the first half, and ‘about you’ by the 1975 for the second half,,,,, both on repeat. i don’t mean to post at ungodly hours but i hope you enjoy!
posted: 11/11/23
—-
Insecurity is an ugly thing. It tugs at your frame, holding your shoulders hostage and your countenance shriveled in a scowl as you slink forward in your seat. But what should the rational reaction be when your boyfriend, the one you’ve planned out the rest of your life with— takes you out to dinner on a random Tuesday and then decidedly backtracks on everything you’ve built together? Your ears are ringing loudly, and you dumbly ask him to repeat himself when he says he wants to take a break.
“So that’s it then. You’ve made your decision and I just have to be okay with losing a year and a half of my life because you aren’t sure if you love me?” Your tone cuts through the fraying tether that holds you two together in the corner booth.
James for once, is at a loss for words. He wasn’t really sure of what to expect when he brought you here tonight, but any reaction to his admission was bound to hurt the both of you. You had to have known about his hesitations. Graduation was three weeks away, and everything was about to change, whether either of you liked it or not. Stupidly enough, James does love you, but that’s not the problem. The proximity he’s had as Head Boy working with Lily Evans makes him wonder if the life he lives is what’s meant for him. It keeps him up at night, gnawing at his resolve and comfort in being with you. He feels ungrateful to have it so easy. Loving you is easy. But the imposter syndrome sneaks into his room late at night in the form of ‘what if’.
“I…it’s just the timing of it all. We’re about to leave Hogwarts, and I don’t want to tie you down if I know I’m unsure of my—our future.”
He reaches out to grab your hand, and many a time ago, his sense of awareness was what you admired about him. You’d both get this familiar feeling of needing comfort, and within a minute, your fingers would intuitively find the other’s like it was second nature. Now, the thought of his touch might make you break his hand off to serve on a silver platter.
“Fuck your timing. If you think it’s as easy as making the decision to just quit while we’re ahead…. I love you. Don’t you…Is that not—” 
You clear your throat, the fire in your indignation being stifled by the whimpering feeling of knowing this was going to happen. The understanding of his plight, the knowing that he wants more. You could see it in the way his eyes wander when you all hang out, and you could feel it when he needs time to himself before bed, letting you back to your common room in the late hours alone. Screw your heart for appealing to his indecisiveness, his fear, when the final blow is aimed at the relationship you both once wanted together. Head Boy and Head Girl share living quarters after all. What chance did you stand against the girl he fell asleep a room away from? Maybe he dreams of her too, what you couldn’t give and what more she has to offer. 
“Tell me something James,” you choke as your body heaves with something akin to nausea. Being lovesick isn’t as romantic as it seems. The hopeless feeling in your tummy throbs as you clench your fists to keep it all down.
“Whatever you want.” 
His reply makes you laugh, desolation gripping your esophagus. Who knew feeling empty would feel like drowning? There is no more air left in your lungs that it almost incapacitates you, your last breath spilling out your final ask of him.
“Do you love me? What did I do?” 
The noise and chatter around you seems to fall silent as he zeroes in on your face, crestfallen from the words that leave your lips. It isn’t your fault, but how can he tell you that? At 18, he’s feeling stifled by the privilege of having his life all planned out for him. He knows people spend their lives searching for contentment but James can’t decipher if he’s right for all of this pressure falling upon his shoulders. The societal heir of his father’s business empire. The face of the upcoming war, bringing in a new generation of soldiers to fight. 
Deep inside, he’s a wild spirit just wanting to live, to be free. And it scares him that you’d follow him to the ends of the Earth, that there isn’t much thinking involved, just doing. The lack of autonomy stifles his soul. How does one know if they’re meant for more? James doesn’t want you to have to suffer the consequences if he can’t figure it out himself.
“I love you honey. So much it hurts me. I just wonder if it’s enough.” 
Your hands clatter onto the table, bumping your half-empty pint of butterbeer as you gather your things, shoving them into your knapsack as his final blow hits your senses. And all he does is watch you, face transfixed as if he sees nothing, like he isn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.
There’s no going back after this, you think silently as you steady your trembling hands. There’s also no way in hell you’ll let him see you cry. Fuck that. Your eyes fall over the curls that drape over the frame of his glasses, his face cradled by candlelight and dear Merlin, do you love this boy. All of him, even the parts that don’t reciprocate the feeling. This is the final snapshot in your memory of him, because this fleeting moment will have to be enough.
“I hope you get everything you ever wanted James. For my sake, I hope I never hear a thing about it.”
Perhaps having the last word will absolve you of the feeling that desecrates your entire essence as you put one foot in front of the other, pushing past the door of the Three Broomsticks and out into the unknown. But it’s not enough.
The break in routine absolutely shatters you, if we’re being honest. A year and a half of loving him, and three more before that of liking the slow steady burn that is James Potter…. It’s like looking at the world with new eyes and this window of opportunity with graduation nearing is your chance of starting anew. There’s also the custodial aspect after the end of a relationship, and it’s hard to separate the rest of what’s yours and his in your mind. Your friends are his, and his are yours. It makes quite a predicament to not have things so easy as they consider who to eat lunch with, or who’s dorm to hang out in. Hopefully, things get easier with time but you’re not as confident as you once were.
A part of you feels like you don’t belong anywhere anymore. James is the sun, after all; a natural leader— everyone revolves around his ingenious ideas and the light he brings. He’s the one who always has a plan, and everyone follows in his stead. Where do you fit in all of that? Where do you go?
His parents are likely the loveliest people to ever grace the wizarding world. Euphemia catches you by the arm after the graduation ceremony as you’re about to take the 7th year boat back across the Black Lake. With no family in attendance and no boyfriend to dote on, niceties were expended quick enough to want to run out of there and never look back.
“Darling, are you leaving without a goodbye?” Mrs. Potter smiles, calling her husband over both with grins made of sunlight. 
Somehow it resonates in your brain that it’s finally over, and your lip trembles when they pull you in for a hug that rivals your hunger to be loved. You think that even if your parents showed up today, it wouldn’t have felt this kind.
“Congratulations dearest! We’re so proud of you,” Fleamont rumbles, a big man with an even bigger heart as he brandishes flowers out of thin air to hand to you daintily. You’re going to miss them terribly. Is it wrong to want more of this? But you remember why it’s not as James’s cologne floods your senses and his silhouette creeps into your periphery. Your smile grows smaller as you two stare at each other and breathe the same air for the first time in almost a month. Whatever’s thrumming in your being, he holds the key to. Mr. and Mrs. Potter try to loop you into a photo together, the magical kind that moves to capture a memory so intimately but both of you stand perfectly still as his and your hesitant dismissals go unheard.
Loving hands fuss over both your caps and the way hair sticks out until you feel your shoulders jostle together for a moment and his hand lands on the small of your back. The flash goes off as you two look at each other in something that still resembles love. You can’t unlove him, not in a day, a month, or ever, you think. Not if you’ve bared your soul to him, even if he hurt you. 
You look away first, urging your heart to come back to reality. He’s not yours anymore, and you still love him. Alice told you earlier that he asked Lily out on a date for next Tuesday. What you were supposed to do with that information you’re unsure, but the feeling in your belly helps you say goodbye to the Potters, and clarify that they can keep the picture since you’re not James’ girlfriend anymore. An awkward silence settles over all four of you.
Euphemia rubs your cheek, hushed promises of keeping in touch while Fleamont looks at his son in confusion. James’ hand flexes in the absence of your body against his. He simply watches you walk away again, alone, while he’s surrounded by his friends and his family. The beating of a tiny heart matching your own as you hop onto the boat proves otherwise.
—-
A baby.
You think back to when it must’ve happened, the weekend before that Tuesday, when everything still felt right. With your last exams of your academic career finally done, both you and James were tangled in his silk sheets until dawn, an amalgamation of passionate whispers and lingering touches you could still feel in the days that followed. As you stared at the flutter of his eyelashes and relished the way he pulled you closer in his dream state, you were quite sure that he is, too, tangled within your soul to let go. That your doubts were residual anxiety from preparing for the future. For the first time in a while, you were reaffirmed that the boy sleeping next to you was your forever. Not being careful was a consequence of feeling safe in his arms, and subconsciously, you both hoped that everything would work itself out. As you walked out of the Head Students’ Lounge past noon with James’ hickeys as a necklace and donning your boyfriend’s shirt, you noticed the blush on Lily Evans’ face. You were just so sure, but that felt like forever ago.
Your parents weren’t happy when they came back from their business trip two months after graduation to find you four months along with a prominent bump and filled with so much fear. All plans of getting a job, of moving out, and joining the Order were now replaced with the startling fact that you are 18 and don’t have a single clue on what to do next. Your childhood bedroom feels smaller tonight, with both your parents standing at the door, all of you unsure of what to say. You can’t remember the last time they tucked you in, but as your dad takes a seat on the edge of your bed, it seems possible that maybe you won’t be alone in all of this.
“Whatever decision you make will be the right one, sweetie. If you love that baby, then we do too,” he sniffles, and you don’t recall having ever seen him this emotional before. One thing you are sure of, is this baby is loved, and made from love. The next is that England is not a safe place to raise your baby. 
Somewhere far away, in a hidden place guarded by some of the most experienced wizards, the Order of the Phoenix meets again to determine the future of the wizarding world. James’s eyes dart back and forth from the door to whichever adult is talking about the next mission. You didn’t show up again. All of the meetings so far where he was always the first one to arrive and the last to leave in hopes of getting a glimpse of you, and you never showed. There’s a deep worry that haunts him as the months pass by, and he knows that it would be easy to send you a letter, or to show up at your door, but he’s probably the last person you want to see. 
“We’re going out for a pint, you ready to leave James?” Lily whispers into his ear, arms curling around to his chest. But he’s not ready at all, sat on the sofa with his eyes on the door, just in case. Trying to love someone who’s still in love is a losing battle, Lily thinks, as she watches her boyfriend look like a child missing their favorite blanket. But in a war like this one, no one would be foolish enough to decline company.
“I’ll meet you there,” he smiles, leaning back to kiss her cheek. It’s cruel to both of them, the way he’s acting knowing that Lily won’t ever be you. Every chance he gets to have a moment to himself, he thinks of the despondent look on your face as you walked away from him and his parents that day. No more anger at all, no biting words or the fighting spirit that he knows and loves. Both of you just accepted what was to come.
Sirius and Remus approach him later after everyone’s left that they got word that you moved to America. He thinks of what could’ve been, and the thought of your safety is the only thing that lets his mind rest as guilt pushes and pulls at his heartstrings like waves.
He’s spent these months fighting in the war, loving and losing that he thinks this isn’t anything like the white house and picket fence fantasy you both used to cook up. As he grabs his coat to leave, James wonders if by being away from all of this you’ll get to live the life you want. 
“Okay honey, hold on tight to mama.” 
Your little boy was almost bouncing off the pavement with a chocolate covered grin, and it makes you laugh harder than it should. Maybe Florean Fortescue’s was not the way to start off your son’s first trip to Diagon Alley, but your new job at the Ministry starts tomorrow and you’ve been missing your favorite stationery. The town was packed with people with the war having ended and trying to start anew. You haven’t seen any familiar faces and maybe years ago that was a bad thing, but hope spreads over Diagon Alley with strangers smiling at Christopher as he skips on the cobblestone, almost tripping over his own feet at the entrance of Flourish and Blotts. 
He runs forward to explore the store as you smile at your creation, letting him wander along the aisles as you have done years before. Being back here is like walking through a memory, and though it used to be home, you know yours is walking around in tiny bright red shoes that light up like his smile. Your fingers flip through the different quills and parchment on display, and after finding everything you need, you hear your son’s laughter in the opposite corner of the shop. Motherly instincts always prevail as your feet guide you to the sound of his voice, since he’s never been one to shy away from a friendly conversation.
“Did you find everything you were looking for, honey?”
James’ head whips up from the tiny boy he was entertaining with color-changing quills to see you, and he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose to make sure he’s seeing properly. The both of you go quiet as time stands still, with Christopher chattering at your feet. 
“Mama! Look at this one, it goes rainbow!” he says, tugging at your coat to see the quill in James’s hand. The pieces start to fit together in James’ mind, looking at your pursed lip, then to the sight of this boy smiling with the innocence he had a lifetime ago. This boy, his son, has your eyes. You shake your head rapidly as he intakes a breath of air.
“Honey?” he whispers, knowing that was his name for you.
“So what, he looks like a honey,” you say defensively, grabbing your son’s hand.
He looks like my son, his eyes say—both of you look down to the child who’s all grins and none the wiser piping up.
“My name’s Topher!” 
“Yes it is, and now it’s time to say goodbye to the nice man, okay?” Topher pouts and looks up at his father without even knowing it, handing him the quill. 
“Keep it. I’ll pay for it, and then you can write to me,” he says almost desperately, losing grip of everything that he’s been trying to convince himself for the past 7 years. 
“Don’t be weird, Potter. Don’t…” you shake your head, eyes misting over. Seeing him again brought back everything. It was already overwhelming to have a kid that’s almost the splitting image of him, to learn of a love so pure after one that’s wrecked you to your core, but being here, within arms reach… You’re 18 again and scrambling away from the corner booth trying to get away from the man you love most not wanting you in return.
“Honey, why don’t you give us a minute to talk? Go find me some cool enchanted stickers for me to bring to work tomorrow, okay?” Your baby runs off without even questioning it, his sense of adventure also inherited from his father.
“I’m…so sorry.” James moves closer to you, and you take a step back sighing humorlessly.
“For what? He’s an amazing kid. Even though… he wasn’t planned, I don’t think I could ever see my life turning out any other way.” You shift your weight to your other foot. He looks, successful, if that’s something he would be proud of. He’s wearing an impressive suit, and his eyes are a bit hardened by the past few years, but his charisma, his smile…. He’s still the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.
“I feel foolish. I was so scared to live my life and then here you are raising our child…” 
You blink softly at his words, and it reminds him of your youth, all doe-eyed and full of want. You used to want him like he still wants you. In front of him is a grown woman, a mother who’s strong and filled with memories and love that he should’ve been a part of.
“Things happen for a reason, James. We both did what we had to do.”
His hand brushes yours, and you realize you’ve been without his touch for 7 years. 7 years of being scrubbed clean of James Potter, and not a single regenerated cell in your body has been touched by him. But your son is of him, so you think that no matter how this ends, there will always be a part of you that loves James too.
You extend an olive branch to have him come to your apartment this weekend and get to talk. He knows he doesn’t deserve this kindness, but you know he deserves to meet his son.
—-
The doorbell rings and you take a deep breath as you open the front door, looking up at him holding a teddy bear for Topher.
“He’s still down for a nap. Let’s go sit in the den.” You say quietly. The hallway is filled with pictures of your boy, and of you in different stages these past few years. He stops at a portrait of your parents with Topher being swung between them.
“Your parents….”
“Were supportive; I wasn’t alone,” you muse, knowing he knows of your strained relationship with them back then.
“They actually just retired early last year. Overworked themselves and finally comfortable, so they help out when they can. What about yours?” Trying to make conversation with your ex is terribly hard, but it’s in good spirit and there’s not much to do until Topher wakes up.
“They passed, actually. Mum at the end of the war, and dad 6 months after. Never wanted to be apart, you know that.”
Your face falls at his revelation, “I’m sorry for your loss. They were amazing people. Taught me what it meant to be a parent, for sure.” Amicable silence fills the living room before you clear your throat.
“I have to be blunt, James. What do you want from this? You must be married and busy, so if Topher can’t fit into that….”
“I’m neither of those things, honey. I want to try and see where this goes,” he says scratching the back of his neck. 
Your heart stops at his endearment, catching yourself looking at him seriously. 
“You can hurt me, but I’m not letting you do that to him. Back then, you were all I ever wanted love to be. And then I had my beautiful baby, and I suddenly knew my love meant more.”
“I never wanted to hurt you. It was a mistake, because I was too proud to accept that I had it good. That what I had was meant for me.” James grabs your hands, begging for you to understand. The lost boy he was is a lifetime away from the man sitting in front of you now. Though it’s touching, you keep your heart guarded because the little boy sleeping down the hall is your biggest priority. You hope he can understand that too.
“He’s not a placeholder for your dreams of wanting a family. You have to build that, I did that myself. I’m not going to let you string him along and then once you have a family of your own, you just up and leave.” 
“I know. I was hoping the both of you could be my family, if you give me the chance.” You bite your lip as your thumb runs against his. It’s easier to forgive than to forget. But for Topher’s sake, you can try. 
“Tell me something James,” you whisper, having needed to know this for the past 7 years.
“Why did you throw it all away? Was the idea of loving me…so terrible?” He tilts your chin up, and you think that the earnest look on his face is the closure you needed to properly forgive him.
“I’ve never stopped loving you. Loving you is the best part of knowing you. Do you think I ever forgot about you?” He chuckles lowly, brushing back a strand of your hair, and you think this could be dangerous if you let yourself get too close. 
“I’ve thought about you everyday for the past 7 years, I just didn’t think I deserved you after everything I’ve done. I was so stupid, I am still. But I’m trying to be better.”
“You think of me but dreamt of her. Was it guilt?” Your hand grabs his as you move it away from your cheek, settling onto your lap. The air around you is suffocating.
“It took time for me to figure out that it was intention. Lily was a distraction. You’ve consumed me since the day I met you. My dreams, my thoughts… All of it is you. I choose to think about you as much as I can, because if I didn’t I was scared I’d forget all the good things about us back then.”
You both hear a thump from your son’s room and realize you’re wiping tears away. James stands up when you do, and both pairs of your socked feet pad closer to your son’s room. 
“We start this slow. We make decisions together, and if there’s any inkling I get that he doesn’t want this, it’s done. You understand?” Your hands are firm on the doorknob as he’s standing close behind you, hanging onto every word.
“Every word. There’s no turning back from this.” He wants to ask another question, but before he can, your hand unconsciously finds his and your grip is so comforting that he notices himself sniffle. 
“If it all goes well, and if you want, we can try again. But that’s in the far distant future, James Potter.”
“Anything you want, honey. That’s the future I’ve been dreaming of.” With you. Your lips quirk into a smile as they brush against his cheek.
Slowly opening the door to both watch your son wake up from his nap, your hand pulls James into the room behind you. Quietly, he sits on the edge of Christopher’s bed, and when his son looks up at him, you both notice the little boy beaming like the sun. 
—-
“Everything you love is very likely to be lost, but in the end, love will return in a different way.” -Franz Kafka
taglist: @jsjcue
love me some tunes! i listened to this while writing:
night shift by lucy dacus & about you by the 1975
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ranhaitanisgf · 3 months
Note
could i request headcanons for rindou looking after a fem reader who is recovering from getting sick (ie: more tired than normal, kinda grumpy, still dealing w headaches/congestion or more generic symptoms) ? i am recovering from COVID and i need rindou to look after me so bad LOLL
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sickness begone!!
synopsis: how would rindou act with an s/o recovering from sickness?
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☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ hiii thank you for requesting!! :3 i was wanting to make this a bit longer but i couldn't think of anything else D: i hope it's alright and that everyone enjoys !! xoxo [just as a note, i unintentionally didn't end up using any gendered specifications, so this is gender neutral! i hope you dont mind ╥﹏╥]
☆ characters ˎˊ˗ rindou haitani x g/n!reader
☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 1.4k+
masterlist
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❥ rindou is the number one complainer. he isn’t complaining about having to take care of you, no, he’s complaining about how stupid you are for getting sick. it’s an extremely annoying thing to hear when you’re already not feeling well, but it’s his own way of showing that he cares about you!
“how did you even get this sick? you need to take better care of yourself.”  “how ‘m i supposed to know…” “you need to be more careful.” “yep.”  “are you listening to me?” “just give me the damn glass of water.”
❥ he’s actually quite unsure of how to take care of someone who is ill, so he ends up calling his brother for help, asking what he’s supposed to do, (‘aniki, they're burning up, what do i do?’ ‘you don’t know what to do when someone’s sick? you don’t know anything at all?’ ‘i’m hanging up.’ ‘no, no, ‘m sorry, i’ll help you.’). 
❥ when he gets the basic rundown from ran and gets all the supplies he needs, he does his best to try and make you feel better! he doesn’t really say anything the whole time, just squinting at the directions on all the little packages, muttering about how ‘these words are too damn small…’. 
❥ he’s surprisingly soft though, his worry for you taking over his usual snarkiness. he’ll gently brush your hair out of your face and will periodically wipe any sweat away from your face with a damp cloth, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. he’ll stay by your bedside for almost the whole time you are there, watching over you and making sure that everything is alright, (he also insists on helping you walking to the bathroom or kitchen even if you can walk completely fine). 
❥ does not care if you bitch and moan about the bitter taste of the medicine. you will be taking it, no matter what. 
❥ he makes sure to check your temperature regularly, letting out an annoys tsk when he notices that your temperature is still high, (might curse out whatever virus that is tormenting your body at the moment).
❥ his snarkiness immediately comes back when you start to get better, though it comes in the form of nagging like an old grandma. 
“hey, why’re you going out?”  “‘m going to get decongestant.”  “stupid, don’t go by yourself. stay here, i’ll go.” 
❥ he just does it because he cares, so don’t get too annoyed with him!
❥ he secretly compares you to a lazy cat when he sees you lounging around your apartment, sprawled out all over the sofa or even just on the floor, (of course, he will never voice this, but he thinks it's rather cute). sometimes if you’ve ended up falling asleep there, he will snap a few pictures because he thinks you’re absolutely adorable!
❥ i think that rindou knows what it’s like to get bad headaches since having bad vision can sometimes cause them, so he understands what you’re going through when you complain of having a pounding pain in your temples. without any sort of explanation, he’ll tell you to lay down with him in bed or on your couch and he’ll gently massage your temples, doing his best to help ease your pain, (if you try to tease him or bring it up later, he will pretend like he has no idea what you’re talking about). 
❥ when you snap at him while you’re recovering, he’ll either completely ignore you or will call you an idiot and then will continue whatever he was doing. either way, he won’t ever get upset with you and he won’t snap back either since he knows that you’re not really in your right mind. 
❥ rindou likes to sleep, (not as much as ran) but he will stay up for however long you can’t sleep for whatever reason there may be, whether it’s congestion, a headache, or any other pains in your body. he’ll carefully smooth his hand over your forehead to get rid of any sweat and will hold you close to him for comfort, gently rubbing his hand in circles on your back until you fall asleep, (if you say a word about it, he will once again pretend like it didn’t happen. he is the biggest tsundere). 
❥ he does not know how to cook, but he will try his damndest to make you some good meals so that you don’t have to cook. every time you try to help him he will roll his eyes and tell you to go back to bed, ‘don’t worry, i’ve got this’, (he does not got this). he’s on the phone with ran the whole time, which is odd because he doesn’t know how to cook either. 
“oh…wow! it looks great!” “why did you pause?”  “uh, no reason…!” 
❥ it’s the thought that counts…?
❥ you guys end up ordering takeout, and you have to comfort rindou for the whole night that you were very appreciative that he tried to cook for you, (he’s not outwardly upset, but it’s easy to tell that he’s sulking). 
❥ you know those people who tell you to drink water whenever you complain about something? that’s rindou while you’re recovering. your head hurts? did you drink water? your stomach is achey? did you drink water? you’re really dizzy? did you drink water? it’s not even like he knows that water will fix any of those things, he just read an article on how sick people should have a lot of fluids, so he’s constantly shoving water and electrolyte drinks in your face. 
❥ binge watching is the number one activity to do while you’re sick, so rindou will watch any show you want to watch with you. he doesn’t exactly say why, but it’s because he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s leaving you alone, especially while you’re sick, (it doesn’t really make sense to anybody but him). 
“wait, hold on. so mary was dating mark but then she cheated on him with kendall?”  “right?! it’s so crazy!!” 
❥ he somehow gets into the crazy reality tv shows you watched because of your boredom. 
❥ going back to this note, he’s not just by your side 24/7 while you’re sick, but also while you’re recovering. it’s completely irrational, but he has this fear that you’re suddenly going to collapse and get even sicker than you were before if he’s not there, so he will not let you leave his sight, (unless he’s going to the store to get something for you). 
❥ if you want something, while you’re recovering is the time to ask for it! rindou is especially weak to your requests, and even more so when you’re feeling unwell, so if you ask him to buy you five pints of ice cream, he’ll end up buying ten, (he enjoys seeing the grin on your face, so he thinks it’s worth it). 
❥ he does not care if you’re sick or still recovering, he will keep kissing you, and no, he doesn’t care if he gets sick. why should he let some stupid virus dictate whether or not he can kiss you? he might not seem like it, but he lives off of the affection that he gets from you, so he can’t even imagine not being able to kiss you. 
❥ no matter the length of your hair, he will braid it. it’s a strange thing, and he doesn’t have an answer for you when you ask him what he’s doing. all he says is, ‘...keeps it out of your face…’, (he only knows how to braid because of ran). 
❥ will walk by and toss a blanket on you if you don’t have one on already. it’s almost like he’s attacking you with blankets, but he just says that ‘you need to stay warm’. 
❥ when you finally get better, he’s so relieved! he will only admit it to you, (and he will only say it once) but he was actually really worried about you. he’s not ever worried about your safety when you’re with him and his brother because he knows that they can fight off anybody who tries to hurt you, but sickness isn’t something that he can fight, so he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself. all he could do was hope and pray that you would get better, and he absolutely hated it. 
❥ he takes you out to your favorite restaurant and spoils you rotten when you’re back to your normal self <3
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lissrissye · 3 months
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𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔡𝔦𝔡𝔫’𝔱 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔫 𝔦𝔱, 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔞𝔯…
osamu dazai, nakahara chuuya, & ryunosuke akutagawa
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𓆩⛈𓆪 synopsis ; you are in a heated arguement with them, and suddenly, they yell something that offends you. but… they weren’t thinking straight, and they attempt on making it up to you afterwards. they never meant to hurt you…
𓆩⛈𓆪 notes ; i might begin to do angst, however, im unsure yet. most likely I’ll be switching between angst and romance/fluff, they’re my favorite genres ! if you want to request any, just comment and i’ll likely to respond in a instant !
𓆩⛈𓆪 genre : angst, slight fluff at the end
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♡ OSᗩᗰᑌ ♡
You and Dazai have gotten into an argument. In the beginning, he just had an awful day at work. He told you several times to just leave him be, but you were concerned of course, so you kept approaching him, asking him if he’s okay and if he needs anything. You were just being a loving girlfriend, but he was not in his right mind right now. He proceeded to respond negatively to your consideration, not appreciating it at the moment. You, however, you were stubborn. You continued to offer him snacks to relieve stress before he, out of the blue, yells at you.
—“Jusy shoo, you’re pestering me! I don’t need you to care for me.” Your detective boyfriend huffed and rubbed his temples. Of course, he meant none of it, he just wasn’t himself at the current moment. Despite knowing this, it still felt like a punch in the guts. I mean, you were just trying to care for him, was that so bad? The mere moment he heard you sniffle slightly, visibly shaken by his scolding, he feels remorse slap him in the face. And yet, his pride won’t let him admit he’s wrong first— at least not now.
However, he then notices you began to keep a distance from him and he instantly felt troubled, since he knew it was all because of him. Your brunette lover approached you as you were cooking in the kitchen. You avoided his touch as he tried wrapping his arms around to for an embrace, and it only made him frown. How is he supposed to make up for this one?
—“Hey, hey, woah… why are you moving away from me? Belladonna, you know I didn’t mean what I said, please forgive me… I’ll make it up to you, what do you want? Come back to me…”
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♡ ᑎᗩKᗩᕼᗩᖇᗩ ♡
You and Chuuya often get into arguments, yes. It’s often because he was short-tempered, and you both always make up. Though, today was quite different. It was like any other argument. You and your love began to give each other the silent treatment and per usual. You went out to avoid him while he just drank his worries away. Normally, Chuuya would’ve swallowed his pride and apologize by now, so that was the first strange thing. Perhaps he was just extra stubborn today, you had no clue, but you were definitely perplexed. Despite his pride, he would still apologize first because he was possessive of you.
—“Stupid woman, always botherin’ and startin’ arguments with me. So fuckin’ annoying, for the love of god.” You heard you PM executive beloved renting about you to someone in the phone. You didn’t like it at all, not one bit. You stormed off, feeling childish and sensitive for letting your ginger-haired boyfriend get under your skin so effortlessly with just a few words, but that kind of crap still hurts, so who could blame you? I mean, your own love talking shit about you hurts like hell, doesn’t it?
The next night, Chuuya returned from work and went to your guy’s shared bedroom to see you sitting on the mattress, fetal position with the blanket all the way to your lips. You were visibly upset, and Chuuya already knew why. He sighed as remorse ate him from the inside. With his teeth, he took his black gloves off, then approached you. You were a bit stubborn and turned away from him, which he wouldn’t let slide, as he grabbed you chin roughly.
—“Hey, my pretty girl… don’t give ‘m that attitude, you know I don’t like it… don’t you dare look away from me either. Look, i’ll say it, I’m sorry. You can stop sulkin’ now, you know that it makes me feel so damn bad…”
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♡ ᖇYᑌᑎOᔕᑌKE ♡
Oh good god, what did you do to make Akutagawa angry at you? Well, it wasn’t necessarily your fault. You accused him of cheating at first because of how distant he’s been with you recently. He was offended really, and started to raise his voice at you, which led to bickering, then you two ignoring eachother at the Port Mafia. Akutagawa either gave you a slight scowl or disapproving look when he met your eyes, and you did the same. You both were too stubborn to apologize first. Akutagawa went and complained about you to Tachihara.
Then, when you both had to go on a mission together, Akutagawa scoffed and crossed his arms. He purposely kept a distance for you and stared indifferently. —“You’re an pathetic… I should just leave you in the dust. You just distract me anyways.” The Diablo spoke, making you feel really terrible, like a brutal slap on the face. Your dark-haired boyfriend didn’t even realize what he was saying because he was so agitated right now, all because of an small accusation. This all could’ve been avoided if one of you would just apologize…
—“You know, I only dated you because I felt pity for you. You kept chasing me like a mutt, and—“ Akutagawa continued before pausing, coughing slightly, then realizing you had stopped walking with him. That part what he said was actually partially true, he only started to date you to shut you up since you kept following him around and telling him how much you love him. Though, one part he didn’t include was that he did start to fall for you in the end. Now, because you mean something to him, he felt instant remorse and sighed, turning back to see your reaction.
You were obviously hurt as you notice your lover looking back at you… concerned? Tears already rolled down your cheek, then dropping to the ground. You wiped them away quickly since you didn’t want to look vulnerable, and just continued on with the mission in silence. —“God damn it— sweetheart? I didn’t mean it… it’s not like that, I promise you it isn’t… if it makes you feel better I’ll— uhh… apologize.”
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yesimwriting · 1 year
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Sick Day
Set in the Final Girl universe, but it is a stand alone fic that can easily be read with no context :)
Summary: Billy and Stu don’t get why they’re so antsy about the latest addition to their friend group being absent from school. Sure, they talk about her more than they talk about anyone else, but not seeing her for one day isn’t enough to justify panic, right? Guess that doesn’t matter, because they find a way to justify checking in anyways.
a/n if you haven’t read final girl and this makes you curious,, the main fic and extras can be found here: Final Girl Series 
fun fact, this is chronologically set at some point after ‘first impressions’ but before the main series, if you haven’t read either that’s fine, it’ll still make sense, i just like building “lore” lol 
also if there are any typos i’m sorry, i’m stuck wearing a wrist brace for a little while, especially while writing
also this was really fun to write so i might do some more mini fics in the final girl universe in between full chapters, it’s more low stakes and is a good way for me to work on adding to their dynamics,, so if you have any ideas/requests for final girl universe specific stuff pls feel free to ask! 
----
It didn’t take Billy long to realize that part of your appeal comes from the fact that you’re not as predictable as everyone else. Maybe it’s because you’re still new, but that’s easy in Woodsboro, where lifelong friendships are practically assigned by the locker you’re given on your first d of middle school.
You’re also a contradiction. Almost everything you’re feeling is visible on your face, but what you’re thinking isn’t as easy to guess. It balances you out, keeping you from being unknown enough to be threatening but still letting you pop enough to keep you from blurring into the background. 
That’s part of the reason he picked up on your routine so quickly. What he knows about you isn’t as concrete as what he has on the people that are a part of his plan, but he knows enough. More than he intended to. He memorized your classes without meaning to and knows the time you get to school and the approximate time you leave. It’s useful, he tells himself, you’re around Sidney and Tatum all the time and him and Stu are still working on fitting you into the plan.
Sure, they’ve decided that you fit as their potential final girl, but it’s rocky. You bring out something panicky in him and some days it’s too much to be around you and know you have the ability to affect him. It’s not the same, not at all, but Billy can’t help the way it reminds him of what his mom’s distance used to make him feel. At risk. And Billy knows Stu, knows that he probably thinks about you twice as much as he brings you up and that there’s such a thing as Stu liking someone too much. 
When there’s uncertainty, it’s easy to fall back on routine, and you stick to a relatively simple one. You get to school riding close to late more often than not, during your study hall you tend to study outside unless Randy doesn’t use it as an excuse to leave early, then you bother him in the library (something Billy doesn’t get), and you take a little longer at your locker at the end of the day. Billy also knows you’re not one to skip. 
You’re never not at school (which may or may not have lead to an increase in the regularity of Stu and Billy’s attendance). You’re too hyper focused on your grades to not show up without a reason. So when Billy passes by your locker right before the home room bell rings and you’re not there it’s weird.
Billy knows you really must not be here when his eyes land on Stu, who’s staring at your locker. Stu walks you to most of your classes and always walks you to homeroom. 
“She’s not here,” Billy summarizes flatly. 
Stu turns his head, a little unsure. “Or she went to class without me.” 
The jab would be subtle to anyone else, but Billy knows what Stu’s getting at. “She’d still be at her locker, she’s always running late in the morning.” Billy focuses on hearing his words, tries to feel them. “We can check her homeroom.” 
A casual enough suggestion. Still not overly concerned. Stu has to walk past your classroom to get to his anyways and Billy takes that route sometimes. With that justification, the two walk down the hall and peak through the door’s long window as un-notably as possible. You’re not in your usual spot, at the desk right behind Casey Becker, who you talk to from time to time (a potential future problem they’re both aware of).
By lunch, it’s confirmed that you never showed up. You’re not in the first period you have with Stu or the third period you have with Sidney and Billy. Tatum brings it up first. Where’s Y/n? Sidney shrugged and mumbled about how you weren’t in second period today. It only took a minute for the girls and Randy to brush over your absence with a simple she must be sick. 
That got under Billy’s skin a little and he couldn’t figure out why. You’re almost weirdly into the whole school thing--everyone here could likely list your top 3 colleges--and stubborn. Even if you’re only absent because you’re sick, you must be pretty knocked out to not be here. But why should he care about you being really sick or your friends being relatively dismissive? 
“Isn’t she a little...Annie Wilkes about school?” Stu’s question comes out casually enough.
Randy looks up, “She’s not that bad.”
Stu blinks, forcing himself to stay in the moment. Randy was quick to defend you even though Stu’s seen him call you worse to your face. Maybe that back and forth is a sad attempt at flirting. “Easy, no one’s saying anything bad about your girlfriend.” 
“She’s not my girlfriend.” 
“Knock it off, Stu, they’re basically related,” Billy forces the words out as casually as he can manage.
Sidney picks up on the joke, mumbling some comment about how they do sort of act like siblings, which gets Tatum off on some tangent about her brother. The conversation doesn’t circle back to the person that’s missing.
In the english class you share with Billy and Stu, the teacher hands back an old essay and gives out a homework packet. The two of them exchange a look. That’s a good enough excuse to stop by your house...if they...wanted to, which they don’t because it’s not like your absence is that relevant.
Billy talks to the teacher after class anyways, saying that he could make sure you get the graded essay and homework. You’re friendly enough that he’s sure he’ll be able to get it to you before you come to class and it’s never a bad idea to have options. Stu doesn’t say anything when Billy gets the papers and neatly places them in a folder. 
----
There’s all this energy and there’s no real outlet for it. Stu doesn’t know what it is, he can’t tell what he wants to do with it or what’d make it feel better. He’s felt versions of it all day, having it drop and morph into an off-brand version of that dark, craving feeling he gets at the thought of feeling a knife plunge into someone and rise back up to an antsy-ness that’d better fit a kid in line for a ride at a theme park.
The energy reaches its peak on the front steps of your porch, but the feeling doesn’t settle on a particular charge. It remains focused on the more positive side of the spectrum, but it’s undercut by some of the urgency of the other urge. 
He had been the first one to bring it up after school, when Billy and him were finally alone. It had started relatively detached, things are still weird when they mention you outside of certain contexts. They’re so used to being open about other things that the fact that they’re both almost shy about something--someone--is twisting. It’s a feeling they’re still learning to take in larger doses. 
They had spent a little too long trying to find an angle to justify a pop in to themselves. It’s one thing to think about you, to talk about you, to like you even. But it’s something else entirely to openly care. To worry about why you’re missing school or if you’re sick. 
Eventually, want won and Billy finally said something that stuck. She can’t be a final girl if she’s dying, and we need her to trust us, to like us. 
This is stupid. A flaring feeling in Billy’s chest has been yelling at him to stop since the idea first formed his mind. It’s a distorted echo of his father’s voice. 
Billy swallows once, forcing himself to finally knock. The only thing more pathetic than what he’s doing is lingering, coming here and then turning back. 
The seconds pass and with each of them, they both feel worse about their decision. And then they hear the lock click and the front door opens and they see you. 
You look more tired than usual and the blanket that’s practically swallowing you whole makes you seem smaller, more vulnerable even though you’re more covered than usual. You squint at the sunlight in a way that makes them think you’ve spent the day in intentionally dimly lit spaces. It takes you a second, but once you finally register them, it’s visible. You’re grinning, practically beaming. 
Billy feels the reaction in his chest. It strains uneasily beneath his ribs, not much unlike what he imagines a heart palpitation could feel like. He briefly thinks he might be able to hold the discomfort against you, but even that thought mostly fades. 
Stu’s flooded with the strange desire to wrap you up in bundles of blankets the way that his mom used to when he was younger. The few times it happened, it was weirdly comforting. He can’t remember the last time she took the time to make sure he was warm until his fever broke, but he knows his dad put a stop to it at an early age. Too needy, too dependent.
“Hi?” It’s partially a question, and your voice hints at raspiness. 
Snapping back into reality, Billy answers, “You weren’t at school.” Your eyebrows draw together and Billy realizes that that wasn’t the easy reaction he thought it’d be. It’s too open and implies concern. 
“Yeah, I kinda have a cold-fever-something. It’s a bug my mom brought home from work. I thought she was being dramatic, but it totally knocked me out.” You lean against your front door. If you sense either of their conflicts, you give no indication of it. “Karma, I guess.” 
Stu lets out a laugh at that. “Karma? You were that mean?” 
Your lips pull into an almost-smile. “The universe seemed to think so.” 
“You think the universe gave you a punishment cold, but your mom’s the dramatic one?” Stu’s biting down a grin, all concerns about showing up melting. 
You glare halfheartedly, “You can’t be not-on-my-side when I’m sick. That’s like...against friend...rules.” Your eyebrows draw together. “That was--that was really lame, forget I said that.” 
The reaction is so warm and you’re doing your best even though you’re clearly still not feeling well and Billy feels an awful swell of what’s likely fondness. “Not sure I want to.” 
Rolling your eyes, you relax even more of your weight against the doorframe. The shift is small, but Billy can’t help but note it. Are you just being casual or are you that tired? “You’re both here to cause problems.” 
“We’re here to be nice.” The look on your face says you might be a little out of it but you haven’t lost IQ points. “We got our essays back and some homework. Billy picked up yours and I drove him to school, and because one day felt way too long to go without seeing you...”
Your laugh is punctuated by a brief cough you burry into your elbow. It’s not like you’re coughing up a lung, but it is a little concerning. “You guys grabbed my stuff?” 
The genuine surprise in your voice sticks out. “Yeah,” Billy slides his backpack off of his shoulders and starts unzipping it, “One of those friend rules.” 
Billy finds his folder as you roll your eyes. “Funny.” 
“It’s what I’m known for,” he keeps his voice flat, and the sarcasm feels a little off, but you smile and that makes it a little easier.
He hands you the papers, his fingertips brushing against yours. “I see why.” 
“I never get that many gold stars.” Stu leans forward, re-reading some of the notes scribbled on next to your grade. “Maybe you should invite me over, tutor me...”
Your nose wrinkles. “Shut up.” By now they’ve learned that that’s the closest you’ll come to retreating.
Stu exaggerates a frown, “What? Bringing you your stuff doesn’t get us invited in?” 
The redirect is a bit of a stretch, but you’re used to the jumps and you’re tired enough to not read much into it. Not as much as Billy does, who’s a little surprised because he and Stu never talked about what they’d do after. He decides that it’s harmless enough. 
Turning your head a little, it almost feels like a part of you forgot there was anything to be invited into. “I don’t want to get you guys sick.” 
It’s such a you response. Always considerate, polite. Billy looks past you and into the house. There’s no noise indicating that anyone’s in there, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re alone. Though the one time he came over to work on a project, he briefly met your mother and was given the impression that she likes making her presence alone. There’s also your mother’s boyfriend, who wasn’t around when Billy came over but based on your comments, he’s not sure being alone with him isn’t worse than being alone. 
“Are you okay?” The question comes out of Billy a little unexpectedly. “You don’t look too...” 
You glare. “Thanks.”
“Not like--” Billy cuts himself off with a sigh. Your eyebrows pinch together briefly. “You look too sick to be alone. At least say your mom’s here.” 
Billy takes in the details of your reaction even though he already has a good idea on what you lying looks like. Harmless, white lies often used to seem more okay with things than you actually are. He sees something similar in the way your chin tilts upwards slightly. “I’m fine.” 
That’s all the confirmation Billy needs. You’re definitely alone. The lack of lie and attempt at dismissal is oddly endearing, especially while you’re like this, leaning against the front door and squeezing your blanket a little tighter. Wait--are you colder? It’s warm out today and there’s not even a breeze. 
A half thought embeds itself beneath Billy’s skin. He gives in, extending an arm slowly. You’re just as confused until Billy’s turning his hand so that the back of his palm is facing you. “I’m--Billy, it’s--” 
The cutoff of your words is sudden, your lips still partially parted, some other jumble of words dying in the back of your throat as Billy’s hand meets your forehead. You don’t move away. It’s been a few seconds, definitely long enough for Billy to have deduced whether or not you have a fever. How did his mom use to do this? 
He takes his time dropping his arm back to his side. Billy doesn’t have too many references to what a fever feels like on someone else, but you did feel warm. “You have a fever.” 
You press your lips together briefly in a forced pout. “You’re worse than my mom.” The blanket is slipping off of your shoulders, you tug it back up. “I’ll take some Tylenol, find a jar of vapor rub.” Angling your head to glance behind you again, you’re returning to that awkward uncertainty. 
The small dismissal digs at them both. It’s bad enough that they let themselves get to this point over one absence and here you are, alone and unwell and completely okay with sending them away. “You sure you’re good here?” 
This time you’re considering it. The proof of the deliberation is there in your silence. More often than not it takes you two or three offers to accept anything you think is an inconvenience. You’re nice to a point of fault. “I’m okay, because no one dies of fever, but if hanging out for a little and seeing absolutely nothing happen to me makes you guys feel better, that’d be cool. But you need to be careful.”
Stu grins, “I thought no one dies of a fever.” 
You take a step back, offering some space for them to pass, “I hope you get this, I think you could use a karma cold.” 
“Now I see why you have one,” Stu mumbles, pretending to be more annoyed than he feels as he steps into your house as you turn your head to stick your tongue out at him. 
Billy follows, lingering in your doorway before shutting your front door. You’re approaching the kitchen, turning your head to look Billy in the eye, “What do you think? Stu deserve one?” 
He briefly pretends to debate, “Worse.” 
You laugh at the irritated sound Stu lets out at the back of his throat. “Do you guys want anything?” They swear they’re fine as you pour yourself a glass of water and use it to down two tylonel tablets. “If my mom gets back from work and thinks I haven’t offered you guys anything to eat or drink, I’m not hearing the end of it.” 
“We’ll defend you.” Stu rests his weight against the kitchen counter, noting the bottle of cough syrup still out. “You need this?” 
You shake your head immediately. “I took some earlier and still feel foggy. I slept most of today.” 
Stu runs his thumb over the white cap, watching it spin without coming off. He considers pushing. Billy changes the subject before Stu has fully made up his mind, “You would be the type to have the most boring sick day.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You’re offended, and it’s oddly soft. “I didn’t just sleep.” 
Billy’s amused enough to press, “What else did you do?” 
“I think I know...” There’s a smugness in Stu’s voice that instantly floods you with embarrassment. Oh no. He’s found them. You snap your head up in time to see Stu holding up some of the tapes you left stacked on the counter. “Beverly Hills 90210, the first four seasons.” 
Billy looks right past you and focuses on Stu. “Only four?” 
“Uh--” You’re caught. “Five’s on right now...and I don’t have a copy of six.” They’re both too quiet, fighting the urge to burst into laughter. “Don’t judge. Trashy teen soaps are popular for a reason.” 
“What about artistic integrity?” 
You dismiss Billy’s question with a scoff that’s a hint too raspy. “Cheap writing in Hollywood isn’t my fault.” 
Instead of returning with another joke (maybe some comment about what Randy would say if he ever found out), Billy pushes himself off of the wall he was leaning against and approaches your refrigerator. 
Billy knows he’s at least heard of the usual home remedies, but he can’t quite place them. Won’t place them because the only person that ever worried about these kinds of things isn’t someone Billy’s willing to think about right now. 
Starve a fever or maybe that’s colds. There’s also...electrolytes? And hydration. That’s probably the best idea. Why does it matter? That thought bothers him, digs under his skin and settles at a wrong angle. He’s seen you. You’re alive, unscathed, and relatively fine. It’s not like any of the bad thoughts were proven right--you weren’t skipping for some other person or leaving.
But you’re uncomfortable. And alone. And vulnerable. Billy hates it. Hates that his awareness of your feelings is lodging itself in his mind and that he can’t really help and that it matters. He’s not sure he remembers the last time anyone besides Stu’s feelings actually mattered. Maybe Sidney’s did once, awhile ago, but that--that didn’t feel nearly as urgent as this.
“You okay?” Your voice snaps him back to the moment, to the glass of water he was getting. “You’re kind of staring at that glass like it knows something it shouldn’t.” 
You drop your voice a little, chin tilting down as you try to be funny. The humor is real enough that Billy doesn’t feel overly pushed, but he does note the thinly veiled genuineness in your words. That’s another thing about you. You say things and you mean them. Even if it’s completely casual, even if it’s a sentiment you’ll forget about immediately until it comes up again. You mean it. 
Billy sets the freshly filled glass on the counter, “Drink more water, your voice sounds like it could be used by a horror movie villain.” 
You frown like Billy’s offended you beyond repair. Just as he thinks you might protest, you pick up the glass and down a fair amount in a few gulps. “Happy?” 
“Oh, he’s thrilled,” Stu hums, “That’s what he looks like when he’s happy.” 
“I think I believe you.” Billy waits until your attention is fully on Stu before letting himself give in and smile a little. 
Stu takes a step towards you, “I’d never lie to you, baby.” He ignores the slight face you make at the nickname. Being sick must make you more irritable because you’ve let much more creative nicknames slide. Stu cups your face between his hands before you can protest. You don’t move or try to shake him off. He takes a second to exaggeratedly feel your skin. “You’re as hot as you look and that’s saying something.” 
“I’m wearing Christmas pajama pants that I got in 8th grade and I spent half the morning on the bathroom floor. No one could find this look attractive.” Stu half shrugs, protests already building, but you snap back to reality before he can get them out. “And if I’m that hot,” you step back, using your hands to pry him off of you, “You shouldn’t be touching me.”
He takes a step towards you. “My immune system’s strong.” Stu briefly flexes an arm, “You think all this could be supported by a weak one?” 
You half smile, giving Stu the opportunity he needs to place his hands on the soft blanket still on your shoulder’s. Again, he’s pleasantly surprised when you don’t brush him off. “You’re gonna get sick.”
Stu rubs a hand up and down your left shoulder, hoping the gesture comes off as light and comforting. “I’ll be fine.” 
Nothing about Stu has given you the indication that he’d be a tolerable sick person. Also, a small part of you is worried a cold like this could really take him out. He rarely dresses warm enough and you’ve seen the amount of energy drinks he’s willing to consume on one day. You’re also not sure you’ve ever seen him eat anything with significant nutritional value. “Every day I find out you’ve managed to keep yourself alive, I’m pleasantly surprised.” 
He squeezes your shoulder. “You’re cranky when you’re sick.” 
“At least she said pleasantly.” 
Stu looks past you to throw a dirty look in Billy’s direction. “Aw, he’s jealous of what we have.” 
Okay--you might be drowsy but you know where the play fighting over you goes. It starts off lighthearted enough, but if you’re not careful it can end kind of sour. One second everyone’s joking and the next Stu’s actually pushing you to pick a side on something that should be harmless but feels heavy. Sometimes Billy gets a little more involved than you think he wants to seem and it never feels fully about you. It’s like half of what they say means something else to them. 
“Okay, no fighting over me,” you shrug Stu off as best you can without losing your blanket, “I belong to this blanket and the couch.” 
You grab your cup of water off the counter and start walking to the living room without checking if they’re following. You hear their footsteps, but pay little mind to that as you settle on the couch and set your glass on the coffee table. 
Billy sits down next to you. “Couch and not your room?” 
Reluctantly sighing, you drop your head back, letting your neck rest at an awkward angle. "I live here now.” 
He can’t tell how much of that is a joke. Are you feeling that sick? “Right.” 
Your attention briefly flickers to the TV, the cliche teen drama that’s still playing being enough to suck you back in even though you’ve missed some context. To him it just looks like overly pretty-ed people overreacting. The scene ends and you return to the present enough to shrug off your blanket and settle the fabric more comfortably on your lap. “You guys can change the tape if you want.” 
A small mercy. Billy stands and begins looking at the tapes stacked on a shelf near the TV. It’s a fair collection, but the movies he saw in your room the time he came over to work on a project were better. He picks the first title that feels decent enough for background that doesn’t seem like too much just in case you’re prone to nausea. 
You’re patiently waiting for the tapes to switch out. Stu’s being quiet, which would have clued you in on a better rested, less sick day. You don’t realize he’s planning anything until you feel the side of your blanket being tugged on. “Stu.”
He scoots closer, “It’s cold.” 
Stu stretches his legs, weaseling himself under your blanket. You weakly try to push him out “There’s another blanket over there.” He ignores you, adjusting so that your legs overlap. “You’re going to get sick.” 
“Your pants are soft,” it’s said so softly, like a kid getting clothes fresh from the laundry.  You’re not sure you have it in you to ruin his good mood. He stretches a foot past your knee and a few inches up your thigh before relaxing back into place. “Fuzzy.”
Despite what you’re wearing, you can feel the comfortable warmth radiating off of him, turning the space beneath the blanket into a space heater. “You’re like a radiator.” 
“I’ll keep you warm an--” 
“Don’t ruin it.”
He frowns, mumbling something about you being “no fun” before sinking further into the couch. You pull more of the blanket onto you and Stu’s hit with the realization that you might not be warm enough. “You want another blanket?” 
You’re clearly surprised by the question. “Uh--no, I think I’m--” 
Stu pushes himself so that his legs are almost off your lap in order to reach the fabric draped over an armchair. He moves back into place and makes a point of draping the blanket over you. “Warmer?” 
“Yeah,” the admission is hesitant.
That is so like you, needing a little push to accept what you need. “Told ya.” 
He must be right because you don’t say anything else. Silence is usually your way of being reluctantly wrong. Stu takes his victory as an excuse to move a little closer. 
Billy sits back down, settling a little closer to the side of the couch. He’s not exactly jealous of how open Stu is. Distance is a good thing, a smart thing. But he does--
A weight on his shoulder. It takes less than a second for realization to wash over him. You’re relaxed, head resting on his upper arm. The room feels a little snugger but it’s not an uncomfortable change. 
The opening credits of the movie are rolling off screen and your eyes are focused on that. “Not to make this weird or lame,” you pause, sniffling slightly as you breathe, “But you guys are kind of nice, sometimes.” 
That has to be a sign of you being tired. Billy fights down a smile. “Sometimes?”
Stu turns his leg to tap your knee, “I think we deserve a little more than that.” 
You move your hand under the blanket to halfheartedly flick his leg. After that, your hand relaxes and rests there. “Fine. Most of the time.” 
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clonecaptains · 10 months
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28 for the writing request!
28. first kiss
// rating is g; reader uses she/her pronouns // this is written from the pov of the reader never having been kissed before! //
masterlist is here
Jamie’s been thinking about you all day. He chews on his bottom lip during training and almost gets hit in the head with a ball coming in his direction. He can hear the coaches tell him to focus up, and he does the best he can till training ends.
He doesn’t say a word when he goes into the locker room. He’s zoned out while he showers. He doesn’t remember getting dressed, he just knows that he is when he knocks on the coach’s door.
The door is open, but he taps on the door with his knuckle, then shoves his hands underneath his shirt.
“Coach?” Jamie speaks. Beard, Higgins, and Nate are in the office too – but Jamie directs his question to Ted.
“What’s going on Jamie?” Ted turns in his chair to direct his gaze at the player. Jamie’s eyes look around at the other men in the room. Ted sees his glance, and he nods to Jamie – telling him to keep talking.
“So, I’m seein this girl and I really like her,” Jamie smiles, and the men in the room make a collective “oooh!” sound. “But-“
“But?” Beard urges him on.
“We’re on a date ya? And I go in to kiss ‘er and she said she’s never been kissed before. I don’t know what to do with that coach.”
Jamie hears Ted say something about Diamond Dogs, and Nate closes the office door. Jamie’s confused, but he’s too concerned about his situation at hand.
“Ahh first kisses,” Higgins muses.
“Have you tried just kissing her?” Beard asks as if that’s the most obvious answer.
“Coach she got nervous, and I didn’t wanna upset her yeah?” Jamie nibbles on his lip again.
Ted shares a fond glance with Higgins.
“Look Jamie, this girl likes you right? She just might be a lil shy that she’s never kissed anyone. If you kiss her, you’re gonna be the one she remembers. Don’t overthink it. She’ll let you know when she’s ready.”
Jamie likes the idea of his kiss being the one you’ll remember. That seems to satisfy him enough for now.
“Thanks coach,” he nods as he leaves. He hears Ted ask Beard about his first kiss and he’s sure it’s a wild story, but he’d rather go find you.
Jamie had been sweet about the whole thing. You’d been embarrassed to tell him, but you’d never have known he was nervous about it either. He ended the night by kissing you on the cheek and took you home.
You’re supposed to have another date tonight at your place. And you have no idea that he’s been thinking about kissing you all day or getting advice about it.
Your heart flutters when you hear the doorbell ring. You’re quick to answer it, and you smile happily when you see Jamie standing there, bags of food in hand.
“Hi,” you greet him and take one of the bags from him. He’d picked up some Chinese food on his way over.
When the bags are set down on the counter, he reaches for you to hug you. You could melt into him. His cologne smells amazing, and his hug is tight.
“Did you have a good day love?” he asks, looking at your face.
You nod. Your face warms under his gaze, his eyes are a lot to handle.
“Let me do this yeah? ” he tells you and points to the barstool by the counter.
You do as he says, and you sit for a moment watching him take the cartons out of the bags. He’s figuring out the layout of your kitchen, and he gets some plates and bowls.
Watching him move about quietly fills you with a strong desire to be near him. Your heart pounds in your throat as you stand up and walk to him. You gently place your hand on his back and call out his name.
He turns to see the look on your face, and he knows. He thinks back to what Ted said earlier.
The carton of rice is set down quickly on the counter as Jamie’s hand flies to cup your cheek. His other hand is on your hip pulling you closer.
You let out a shaky breath, or is that him? You close your eyes and feel his lips gently brush against yours. It’s only for a beat, but it makes your heart skip. He pulls back, an unsure expression is on his face. But when he sees your shy smile, he grins.
“Can you kiss me again?” you ask him, and he’s quick to close the gap between your lips.
Several sweeter kisses are shared while the food is distributed. The night ends on a more heated kiss that Jamie spends the next day at training thinking about.
This time he does get head with the ball, but luckily for him – he has someone to kiss the bruise better when he goes home.
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strawberrycrushes · 6 months
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Hello!, I saw that your requests were open. Can I request Jing Yuan, Welt and Screwllium with a shy!reader who loves to figure skate? Reader is very private about it, yet also very pasionate about it. Reader will plan to go skating at places at times where there's no one present so they can preform figure skating tricks freely. If there isn't any music, reader will just sing it themselves. They'll skate for as long as they can, and won't stop untill either (a) someone finds them, (b) they're too tired to keep going,or (c) they're too cold continue.
thank youu
❄️
A/N: Dear snowflake, thank you so much for the request however I will unfortunately have to exclude Screwllium because I only write for playable characters. I had a lot of fun with this request so I hope you enjoy.
Welt:-
Ever since the Express had landed in Jarilo-VI, you had acquired the strange habit of disappearing into the world’s frost-covered plains, only coming back much later; freezing cold and completely drained. It worried Welt half to death, but since you never revealed what you were up to, he just had to get used to the feeling. It helped that, ever since you started these so-called expeditions, you carried yourself with more satisfaction and confidence, or at least the closest thing to those he had ever seen you carry yourself with. It was nice seeing you like that.
Today, though, was different. You were late. Late enough to warrant concern from Himeko and Pom Pom as well. It confirmed that he wasn't just exaggerating the issue in his head, which was the only thing he needed to know before heading out to find you–
And find you he did.
You were out skating across an ice lake, humming a melody that matched the grace of your movements. You were so focused on these motions that you didn’t even notice him standing there, enchanted.
He was awestruck as he watched you make great leaps across the ice, pirouetting along to a routine even he could recognize as extraordinarily difficult. So this was what you were up to then?
When you finally skidded to a stop, he instinctively raised his hands to clap for you. A move that proved itself to be poorly thought out when you swerved around to look at him with wide eyes, nearly tripping along the way.
“M-Mr. Yang? What are you doing here?” You tried to steady yourself, the shock, confusion, and embarrassment evident in your face
Welt chuckled, “Perhaps it would be better if you got off the ice first?” he said playfully, and you quickly slid over with a beet red face, moving to retrieve the boots you hid inside a bush to replace the skates you were currently wearing.
“So um… Mr. Yang…” you trailed off, unsure how to ask him.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about this. I myself am sorry that I didn’t tell you I was watching earlier. I’m afraid I might have encroached upon your privacy.” Welt gave you an apologetic look, and you flailed around with your hands.
“No, no, it’s fine, it’s actually probably for the best that you didn’t or else I would have fallen face first in the ice.” you awkwardly chuckled, causing Welt to laugh.
“If I may ask, you were figure skating, right?”
You nod and mumble, “It’s just a hobby I picked up from my home world, nothing special.”
“Liar.” Welt smiled, “If it really was nothing special to you, you wouldn’t be able to skate that way. I’ve seen figure skaters before, and if I had to say, you’d be amongst the best.”
You blush, “You’re flattering me”
“I’m being serious. Even if you didn’t want to share your talents with the world, you still ended up with a fan in me.”
You looked up at the earnest look on his face and smiled.
To be honest, figure skating was supposed to be a private hobby you could enjoy while nobody was watching. You loved it, yes, and you enjoyed the subtle comfort it gave you, but you honestly never believed anyone could enjoy it the same way you did. Yet somehow, when Mr. Yang saw your ‘performance’, as embarrassing as it was, you had to admit… it felt nice.
“Thank you, Mr. Yang. I appreciate it, really.”
A comfortable silence fell on the snowy plains. You hesitated, then asked, “If it’s not too rude to ask, what were you doing out here anyway?”
Welt’s eyes widened, “Shoot. I was supposed to come look for you because you hadn’t returned to the Express yet, and it completely slipped my mind just how late it was getting.”
……
You tried to hold back your laughter, but failed. This time, it was Welt’s turn to be embarrassed. “If you’re done laughing, we should probably head back now”
“Right.” you cleared your throat, clearly still amused by his misstep. Getting up, you begin to trail behind him with a smile on your face you couldn’t hold back. Maybe sharing this little hobby of yours wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Not when it was Welt, anyway.
Jingyuan:-
You took a deep breathe, then began.
Steadily pushing yourself forward, you carefully fell into the skating routine you had recently started practicing. Increasing your intensity with the rise and fall of the music playing in the background, the thin grinding of your skates against the ice being the only other sound that could be heard alongside. It felt like you were creating magic in the moment, something you easily got lost in until you couldn’t go on anymore.
Panting on the edge of the ring you reached out to grab your bottle of water only to find nothing there.
“Looking for something?” A suave voice called out from besides you.
You whipped your head around to find your boss, Jingyuan, teasingly waving your bottle in front of you with a sly smile. “I had no idea you could skate like that, why didn’t you tell me?”
You flush red. It was difficult not to be embarrassed when your literal boss caught you in one of your most private moments.
“I- I’m sorry General. Do you need me for anything? I’ll get right back to work-“
You try to stand up but Jingyuan quickly cuts you off “No no, not to worry. There’s no work to be done. I was hoping to invite you to a cup of coffee since you seemed so tired all the time but instead…I seemed to have come across the reason why, no?”
You gulp, “Um well, that’s-“ You try to think of something to say and Jingyuan chuckles.
“No need to be so tense, I only jest. I was actually very impressed with your performance here today and couldn’t help but ask, how come you haven’t told anyone about your hobby? You’re very good at it, I don’t doubt that you could even take it to an intergalactic stage-“
“General.” You cut him off this time. “Please. It’s nothing special. Besides, it’s meant to a more…private hobby. I feel uncomfortable figure skating when there are other people around”
“You were fine when I was watching”
“I didn’t know you were there!”
“Hmm, really?” He seemed to ponder this for a while though you find it quite impossible to believe he didn’t already know that. “Alright, new question. Is it possible for you to pretend that I’m not here once more? I want to watch again. If that’s okay with you of course. I wasn’t lying when I said I liked seeing you skate”
“You-!”
You had no idea what to say. How could he even say things like that with a straight face? Did he really want to see skate again that bad?
You gulp and reach out to grab the water bottle from his hands. Taking a sip, you mull it over, occasionally glancing back over to Jingyuan. How you weren’t as opposed to this as you initially thought, you had no idea either, but you wanted to give it a try.
“Fine” You mumble underneath your breath and try not to let your heart flutter too much at the sight of an honest to god genuine smile on your boss’s face. You slide back on to the middle of the ice rink, getting into position again.
As the music takes off, so do you. Twirling to the music you try to balance yourself on your skates but with the newfound nervousness that come with having an audience, even if there was only one member, you quickly found yourself slipping up. Very literally. As in, falling gracelessly on your ass.
“Are you hurt?” Jingyuan gave you a worried look.
You bit the inside of your cheek. How embarrassing. “No. It’s fine”
You get up, and try again, continuing on where the music currently was. This time, you didn’t trip immediately, feeling comfortable in adding that previous flourish you had when figure skating alone, but when you caught sight of the pride in Jingyuan’s face, your breathe hitched and you got distracted. Consequently you tripped.
You sigh in frustration, trying to get up again before promptly letting out a hiss of pain. Ah, your ankle. You must have injured it in the tumble…
Jingyuan immediately rushed to your side, hesitantly inspecting your ankle, carefully setting it back down when you grimaced.
“Not to worry. It appears you’ve only sprained it” He tries to reassure you but you have a feeling he’s telling that to himself as well. “It’ll be fine after some icing and rest, but I still want to take you to a doctor just to be sure.”
Before you could insist that you really were fine, you felt yourself be scooped up by the general as he began carrying you out, effectively turning you to mush. Your heartbeat went haywire and none of your thoughts felt comprehensive.
“G-general?”
“I am sorry for making you perform in such an unfamiliar environment.” He said, sounding incredibly guilty. “This is my fault. At least let me make it up to you”
You gazed at him silently then sighed, gulping down the lump in your throat. “A-alright. Perhaps it would be best to have to go through a proper check up”. You mumble, barely audible.
Jingyuan smiles before continuing on. How silly, you thought. You felt your heart skipped a beat once more.
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antlerscove · 8 months
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Ethan Landry x M!Reader
A/N — this is not canon compliant, as always, requests are welcome!I listened to my sad playlist whilst making this, take that as you will.
Word Count: 698 words
Warnings — angst, slight fluff, hurt no comfort ending
Falling Behind
Ethan was your boyfriend of five years, you loved him so much, and in fact, you would do anything for him.
That was until you found out he was a serial killer.
To top that, he was killing your friend group slowly.
As average couples, it ended up to be an argument, a fight of sorts. You stormed off into your room, changing your clothes into just your boxers and a loose shirt.
It was his, and it still had him written all over it, but it was reminding you of the sweet boy you had once known.
Now? You were unsure who “Ethan Landry” was.
The argument might have broken the five years you swore up and down were the best years of your life. You sat in your bed for a second and looked at a photo of you and him, it was framed on your nightstand.
You started to tear up, you slowly reached for the frame and grabbed it, bringing it to your lap. You started to sob quietly, not wanting him to hear. He was a sweetheart, but you didn’t know if you could trust him anymore.
You hear a knock at the door, one, two, three times.
“Sweetheart, please? Can we talk about this?” he asked, almost sounding like he was pleading.
“We can talk about it if you stop killing people,” you retorted, looking back at the picture frame. You heard the door open anyways, hearing his footsteps as you wiped your tears off of your face.
You felt the bed dip beside you, but you didn’t bother looking, you were upset at him, angered by the fact that your “sweetheart” Ethan was going around and killing off your friend group. He slowly rubbed your thigh, looking at you sympathetically, but you didn’t hold eye contact with him.
“Love, please? Let’s just talk about this, I’m sorry,” he said, real emotion and sympathy in his voice. For all you knew, it could be an act, something that had malicious intent to it. Maybe he could kill you next? You had no idea how to respond to that.
“You kill our friends, then I find out, right?” you asked.
He nodded.
“And yet, you expect me not to care?” you said, anger underlying in your voice.
He looked down at his hand, slowly pulling it away, then looking back at you.
“I can’t stop now, I’m sorry,” he said, clearly upset at himself.
You sat in silence, looking at him, tears of anger and sorrow starting to slip down your face.
“Ethan, do you understand that this can ruin you and I? Five years Ethan, five years you want to throw down the drain?” you half-whispered.
He started to cry, shaking his head ‘no’. You looked at his hands as they clasped yours.
“Love, what have I told you before? I promised five years ago that I wouldn’t ever leave you,” he started.
You just looked at him, not a single thing going through your head.
You kissed him.
From what? You had no clue, but you started to kiss him softly while tears fled down your face. You felt him grip your sides as he kissed back, just as cautious, just as soft. You pulled away first and looked at him.
“I want my sweet boy back, Ethan,” you whispered to him.
“I know,” he replied.
“Give him back to me please, stop killing, please?” you asked, you didn’t want this to end, but you didn’t want him to kill anymore either.
You sat in silence until he spoke up.
“Okay, I’ll…I’ll stop,” he said. He knew he could get caught easier, but this was you, you were his handsome boy.
You kissed again, the tears being wiped away by his fingers softly as you two pulled away. You pulled him to lay down with you, letting him know to hold you. He did.
You laid there, both content.
Later you would know, he didn’t stop the killing, and you found him dead on scene, November 1st, 2023 at around 4:30 in the morning.
He was no longer yours, but you wished he had been.
There goes your sweet boy.
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floral-force · 1 year
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hello there <3
coming at ya with a request!
can I get a f!reader x captain rex (TCW or Rebels) where reader is an armor tech and rex needs repairs done often? maybe he breaks a piece of armor on purpose just to keep going back?
can't wait to see what you doooo thank you friend!
in my head rex is either super flirty or super unsure/awkward when it comes to ~feelings~ so this def falls on the opposite end of the spectrum for me. my fic strategies in flirtation is at the other end. i hope you enjoy this drabble !!
requests are open! | masterlist | join the tag list
On the Mend
captain rex x f!reader
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words: 844
warnings: none, but my blog is 18+ ONLY. no minors allowed.
read on ao3 | masterlist
“For a captain, you sure are clumsy,” you comment, looking over the damaged chest plate.
Rex rubbed the back of his head and chuckled nervously. “Yeah, well…It comes with the occupation, I suppose.”
You look up at him from where you sat, the clone captain standing before you dressed only in a body glove. He crossed his bulky arms over his chest—a broad one, at that—and you smiled at him. A tense, awkward silence hung over both of you, filling your small workroom with fog. You looked into his deep brown eyes, noticing how his broad nose crinkled when he sniffed; how he couldn’t maintain eye contact with you for longer than a few seconds.
You cleared your throat, fingers tapping the broken armor. “Well, um, this should be done by the end of the day tomorrow. Doesn’t look too banged up.”
“Good to know,” Rex said. He walked to the door with a stiff back, giving you a curt nod before leaving.
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The second time he came back, it was a cracked pauldron—the blue one signifying his rank. She raised her eyebrow when he held it out to her, taking it gently.
“You were just here not even 6 rotations ago,” she remarks. “Kriff, captain, what does Commander Skywalker have you doing?”
Rex shook his head. “I’ve been here training, actually.”
She scoffed and looked up and down between him and the armor. “This happened during training?”
He shifted and scratched his thick bicep. Rex could barely look into her eyes; not because he couldn’t make eye contact, but because her beauty threw him off. When he’d first gone to her a standard month ago, he was instantly smitten. Whenever he saw her walking around base, he felt his heart beat faster. She made him more nervous than his Commander’s plans ever did.
Rex couldn’t stop thinking about her, and it led to him doing this just to see her. He made sure to land on his shoulder during a training exercise, knowing he’d need to get it fixed. Knowing it would lead to seeing her.
The way she looked at him, smiled, bantered—it drove him crazy. He wished he could just hold her hand, brush his fingers against hers. Rex wished he could be bold enough to make the first move.
“Landed on my shoulder wrong,” he replied.
She hummed and turned it over in her hands, deft fingers running over the crack, making him wish it was his chest she was stroking instead. When she looked up at him again, his breath caught in his throat. Maybe he was dreaming, but it seemed like there was something in her eyes, seeing him in a similar way.
“I’ll have it done tomorrow. You can pick it up then.”
Her voice was music to his ears. Maybe he’d return in a few rotations with something else.
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“Captain Rex, here again? What a shock,” you deadpanned, leaning back in your chair.
He gave you a soft smile, light copper cheeks crinkling. “Hope that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all,” you said with a smile. “But I’m thinking I might have to start charging you.”
Rex chuckled, a light rumble. He was handsome, you’d decided. Charming, in his own special way. It was funny. You saw him training, giving orders; he was confident, sure of himself, filling a room with his presence. When he stood in front of you, he shrunk from shyness. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he had a crush.
You bit your lip as you inspected the damaged thigh plate, hiding a smirk. But of course, the ever-observant Rex noticed.
“Something the matter?”
You swallowed, deciding to be bold. “You know, I think I have an idea about how you could pay me back for all of these little—“ you gestured to the armor— “accidents.”
He raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat. “Is that so?”
You nodded, meeting his eyes. “I’ve heard of this cantina nearby. It’s quiet but I prefer them that way.”
“What’re you suggesting?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.
“Take me there.”
“As…As a date?”
A smile spread across your lips and you nodded. “Exactly.”
Rex’s face brightened and he grinned. “I’m free tomorrow. I got the morning off the day after.”
“I’ll be free after I finish fixing this,” you giggled, holding up the armor.
“I’ll meet you here then, love.”
The pet name sent a shiver up your spine. “Sounds like a date.”
Rex gave you a wide grin, and you could tell something had been lifted off his shoulders. You were incredibly flattered to be the object of his affection, and even more excited to finally get to know him beyond his awkward way of flirting. Maybe you’d be able to steal a quick kiss—you definitely weren’t thinking about how it would feel last night. Hopefully, you could be bold again. Hopefully, he’d keep coming by to drop off another piece of armor, giving you another piece of him—the real Rex—each time.
taglist (join here): @hardlystrictlystarwars
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sweet-villain · 10 months
Text
You Were There, Then You Weren't~ B.H
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Words: 7.6K
@strangerfreak asked:
Since your request are open! I’m so excited to share idea for you! 🩶 This one is angst and fluff. I’m sorry this is kinda long
Billy Hargrove x best friend!reader to lover (kinda?)
In California, Billy and reader been best friend since kids, he always be there for her and she always be there for him too, ever since his mom run away, comfort him after dad was mean to Billy (same as reader mom, dad is too lazy drunken, sleeping on chair). They grow up to teenagers, they were saying goodbye each other for moving to Hawkins. Reader finally finish high school (or collage), she driving off to Hawkins to find Billy and nervous to tell him that she love him, like love love him. But when she find out that he died in “fire” and Max is in coma. Biggest heartbroken she ever felt. 6 months later, Max woke up and reader really want to be there for her like Billy did for reader. 8-10 years later, Reader and Max live together, always be there each other. Billy show up at their door. Alive. (Or not)
@babyloutattoo89 @palomam18 @becca-alexa @sadbitchfangirl @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @djkeruigbbygirl @haileighboi @bookshelf-dust @moonchildquinn @strangerfreak
A shadow looms over at you while you play with your dolls causing you to stop and look up at who’s blocking the sunlight. A boy is standing over you with blonde hair and ocean blue eyes looking out of place. He turns nervously looking back over his house seeing his father standing there by the window looking over at him, motioning with his hands to go on. 
“ Hi” the sound of your voice caused the little boy to turn back around. He wiped his hands on his pants feeling them sweaty from even being close to you, let alone a girl. 
“ Hi” the sound of his voice wasn’t so confident. 
“ What’s your name?” You questioned standing up from the blanket you were sitting on and offering your hand to him. His eyes dropped down to your hand and back to your face.
“ My name is Billy, what’s yours?” He asked. You tell him your name and he nods. 
“ Do you want to play?” In his hands you noticed for the first time he had a robot. Billy glances down at your dolls and then at his robot, shrugged and sat down on the blanket. You joined him playing with him. This was the very first time you met Billy and the first time you had notice of his unsureness but you were too young to understand.  
You and Billy had grown closer and closer as the years go back, you have been there for him when his mother left him leaving him with his step sister, Max and his father. Billy ended up find out later the week his mother left him, your mother ended up leaving you too. You two would spend time in the backyard sitting together and staring up at the night sky. 
It was either in his backyard or yours. It was the very first time you took notice that you and Billy were starting to have things in common. His father, Neil wasn’t really fond of you as he thought he might be always looking at you disapprovingly. Your father didn’t like Billy all too much either but he rarely paid attention where you were as he spend his time on the couch, watching tv and drinking beer. 
You’d always had to clean up after him when he fell asleep on the couch. You’d place a blanket over him and took care of yourself for the night. You were young but you were finally understanding things in your home. In your life. In Billy’s life. 
“ Your room better be clean when I come in there” the sound of Billy’s dad voice came from the other side of the door. Your eyes roamed the room seeing it was clean to the best of how Billy thought it would. 
Billy’s breathing picked up at the sound of his father’s voice and turned his head to glance at you. He had worry in his eyes and snapped his head towards the door when his dad stormed in with his hands on his hips. 
“ I thought I told you to keep this door opened” he pointed towards the door, his nose flaring in anger. “ You don’t listen, and you know what happens when you don’t listen.” 
You crawled over to Billy to shield him from having Neil do anything to Billy. 
Neil snickered for the first time noticing how much you cared for his so called son. 
“ Your little girlfriend needs to leave. I need to have a word with you” Neil spatted. “ Now” he added through his gritted teeth. You shook your head staying where you were shielding Billy from Neil. 
“ I am staying” you tell him. Neil grumbled in anger, kicking Billy’s dresser before he stormed out of Billy’s room. You could tell he had steam coming from his ears. 
Billy turned to you, “ Why did you do that?” 
“ Because your my friend and friends are there for one another” 
Billy stared at your face for a good minute or two before he wrapped his arms around you, and that for the very first time was the day Billy hugged you, appreciating you being there for him. 
“ Go get me another beer, will you?” Your father groans from the chair he was sitting at. An ash tray filled with buds of cigarettes and smoke filled the room and the only sound you hear is the television set running on some show your father was watching. 
You had Billy for company over your house as the two of you were chasing each other around the house when your father asked you to get another beer for him. This was very common for him to ask you. It made you uncomfortable getting these things for him when he can do it himself. You didn’t like that he raised his voice at you. 
Fear struck you when you froze at your standing spot, over looking at Billy who turned to look at your father. His own fear overcoming him from his own father, and turned to you when he heard the sound of your feet moving towards the kitchen. He watched you struggle on the high stool opening the beer on your own. 
His eyebrows knitted together watching you wince when you opened the bottle. 
“ Are you okay?” He asked, his voice loud enough for your father to hear.
 “ Son, don’t worry over that little brat. She should be here with my BEER!” He shouted, ready to stand up from his chair. He hated moving around the house, it gotten worse after your mother has left you leaving you with your father. 
“ I love you very much, my sweet girl” was the last words she told you. Then, why did she love you if she left? You never gotten an answer to that, it remained unknown until your brain is connecting your own dots. 
“ Here, daddy” you handed the cold beer to your father who grunted underneath his breath as he took the beer from your hands. He shooed you away with his hand when you didn’t move to ask him a question. 
“ Can we go get some ice cream, daddy?” Your father took a sip of his beer and put it on his leg to balance it as his cold eyes turned to glance at you standing there pleading with your eyes at him. 
“ Do you have any money?” You shook your head. Your allowance wasn’t that much but you were saving it up in your small jewelry box that you had. 
“ No, sir” you answered with a shake of your head. 
“ Then you know the answer, now get out of my sight before I do something about it” your eyes grew wide knowing what he was talking about and rushed out of the living room, taking a hold of Billy’s hand in yours taking him to your room.
You left the door opened in case your father would yell asking for you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took your little yellow step stool you had in your room that was covered in flowers. 
“ What are you doing?” Billy asked, making his way over to you to stand on his tippy toes to look over your shoulder. But he couldn’t see. 
“ Seeing how much money I have” you opened the jewelry box you had in your room that held a secret opening where you had your money in there. It was hidden so your father wouldn’t know where you kept it. 
You began to count the coins and bills you had, focusing. Billy watched you count staring at you in awe. That was the first time Billy knew that you understood how his life was because you shared the same one. Except you were the only child, looking after your father. 
“ Do you have enough?” He asked. In your small hand you hand him some bills over and his eyebrows knitted in confusion on what you were giving him. He knew it was money but for what?
“ What is this?” 
“ Money, duh” he rolled his eyes and taking up the scrunched bills into his hand. “ What am I suppose to do with it?” 
“ Get yourself some ice cream” Billy’s eyes grew wide as he shoved the money back in your hand and shook his head. 
“ No, what about you? You shrugged. Billy looked at you in pure confusion on why you just wanted him to have the ice cream to himself. 
“ I will share” Billy says and offers his other hand to to you. “ Come on, before it closes”
“ But you don’t like sharing” you mumbled. Billy chuckled and he shrugged.  
“ You’re my best friend, and you aren’t contagious or anything” 
That was the very first time that Billy wanted to share something. Let alone, a girl. But you weren’t just a girl to him. You were his best friend and the person that most cared about him. He was still very young to understand at the time what this was. 
The beach was your favorite place to spend time with Billy, watching the waves, enjoy the sun, listening to little kids run around and laugh while Billy enjoyed the same with surfing. He had grown up to have a wild hair of curls which he had yet to learn how to maintain, his blue eyes were the bluest you have ever seen. He wore a necklace around his neck that he told you he found in his parents bedroom hidden away by his father with a letter from his mother.
It was the only thing that he had left of his mother and he wore it evert day. In your eyes he was growing up to become one of those boys that you secretly thought about and dreamed about. As he grew older, he saved enough money to buy himself a car. 
“ This is yours” you gasped brushing your fingers over the hood of the car. Billy smirked once he stepped out of it, he had been working out and he started to wear open shirt where you can see the sun kiss skin underneath with the necklace he always wore. He leaned how to maintain his mullet of curls that was just gorgeous. He started to smoke cigarettes as a habit which you found out, a coping mechanism from what was happening at home. 
But he was in California, the open shirts he wore was around when he was at the party with you drinking and every girl wanted a piece of him. Not you, that’s what he thought. He wore tank tops in day time or the sleeveless shirt that he cut out the sleeves off. 
He was just your best friend, he thought. But you took every chance you’ve gotten to roam your eyes over him and watch his smoke. Something about it that you found so attractive. 
“ All mine, this beauty is my baby now” he says tapping on top of the car softly. 
“ Runs beautifully too” he says, taking the cigarette from his mouth and dropping it on the ground and stomping it with his foot. 
“ Can I drive?” You asked hoping he would say yes but he stared at you like you said something out of ordinary and something so weird to him. 
“ Are you crazy? I just got her and you want to drive it already” Billy chuckled, shaking his head. “ You always liked me better for my things I’m starting to think.” 
“ Yeah, very much so, but it wasn’t me who shared his ice cream when he was little with a girl” 
“ You were my best friend and basically gave me all your money, I didn’t want you to feel left out” 
“ You’re such a softie” Billy shoot you a glare like what did you say as he looked around hoping no one has heard you. He had a reputation around here to hold out. 
“ Hey Billy” you rolled your eyes at the sound of one of the girls as they walked over to Billy.
“ Nice ride” one of them said. In your mind you made a gagging noise which they would walk away. It was always those girls that Billy’s eyes roamed over with the bustier top and the ass he couldn’t stop talking about. 
“ Just got this beauty,  you want to go for a ride?” He asked, a smirk on his face. Your eyes flash of hurt, stepping back from the car about to walk away from this. You didn’t want to hear none of this. The thought of Billy enjoying his time with some other girl than you, appalled you. It made your stomach sick. 
“ Hey, where are you going?” Billy asked once he took notice you were walking away without another word to him. He felt kind hurt that you gotten up and just left out of the blue. Did he do something wrong? 
When you didn’t even turn around to look at him and he continued to see your back, he sighed ignoring the girls and locking the car as he ran over to catch up with you. He ran ahead of you to catch your eyes in hoping to see what was wrong. 
“  Where are you going?” 
“ I’m going home, Billy” he frowned stopping you in your track having you bump into him. 
“ I’m sorry, I thought I was having fun back there” he motion to where his car was parked. The beautiful Camaro that you were so desperately wanted to drive. 
“ Then go have fun” you mumbled refusing to look at him when a smirk appears on Billy’s face as he chuckles. “ You jealous that I’ve asked another girl to take a ride in my new car? Is that it? You want to be the first one to claim the passenger seat? Hm?” 
Your eyes snapped towards him watching the smirk on his face dropped when he noticed the hurt look on your face. His face immediately goes soft. 
“ I didn’t think it was such a big deal to you” he says. 
“ It’s not that” you shook your head, swallowing the lump in your throat and feeling your heart race knowing you can’t tell him what you want to tell him. It was just to painful to watch him talk and flirt with girls. It’s been something going on for awhile and you were always there to witness it. It just hurts. 
“ Then, what is it?” He continued to press wanting to know what’s going on. 
When you remained silent, he sighed. You don’t know when he happened to stand in front of you because you felt his fingers cup your chin and brings your face that you were locking eyes with him again. His blue eyes stared into your own begging you to talk to him. 
“ No other girl will take your place if that’s what your worried about princess” he says. That nickname. He used it once or twice on a girl he talked too and now he’s using it on you. It makes you melt inside. 
“ Billy” he shook his head hushing you with a finger over his lips. “ I mean it, no other girl stands a chance against you in my life” he offers you a small smile, one of those rare smiles he does and it’s only been reserved for you. You were the only person to see him smile like that. 
“ Come on, I’ll take you for a ride” he says. His hand drops from your chin causing you to frown and already missing his touch. He waits for you to join him by your side and you follow him casting a look at the other girls that were waiting for him seeing the whole interaction between you and Billy. 
Jealousy flared in their eyes and you could tell. 
As you slipped into his car, you turned to look at how beautiful he is and the sound of the roaring engine caused Billy to get excited as he yelled happily, and turned to you to see you were already looking at him. It shocked him a bit and his eyes widen as his cheeks redden. 
“ What?” He asked. 
“ Nothing, are you going to drive or not?” He hummed putting his arm behind your seat to back out the space and asked if you were ready. 
You nodded your head watching him as he happily yelled driving off towards your house with music blasting. You rarely saw him happy and this was one of the moments you didn’t want to forget about him. 
The sound of waves filled you with calmness as you sat on the beach with your head tilting up with your eyes closed letting the sun hit you. Billy sat next to you with his legs stretched out and in his swimming trunks, his shoes by his side and his hands fiddling with one another while he stared at the sand. 
The silence was killing you and when you turned to look at him, you felt like something was wrong from the way he was playing with his hands and refusing to look at you. 
“ Billy?” A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his head. He felt his throat dry up and his stomach was in knots. Not the nice knots when you have a crush on someone or something along the lines. It was something else and it was killing him. 
“ What’s going on? Why are you so quiet?” His head turned and his eyes locked with yours. His eyes held sadness in them that your heart pulled strings watching him. 
“ Did Neil do something? I’m going to kick his ass again, you know I can” Billy chuckled as he shook his head. Only you would lighten the mood up at situation like this.
“ I need to talk to you about something” he says. You nodded your head urging him to go on. 
“ I’m moving” he says. Your eyes blinked a couple of times, not really sure that you had heard him correctly or not. He was moving?
“ W-wher?” You asked, voice cracking at the thought of losing your best friend and the only man that you felt cared about you. 
“ Indiana, Hawkins. Neil got a new job over there and we’re all moving” he says, head hanging. It was really hurting him that he was going to have to leave you, his best friend and the only person he knows that cares about him. Like really cares about him. 
“ I don’t want you to go” you turn your full body towards him and throw your hands over his shoulder to hug him while leaning your head against his curls. His hair smelled like the ocean mixed with his own scent. 
Billy pouted as his hand came over yours to hug you back. You were the only person he allowed to touch him and hug him. 
“ I don’t want to go either” you pulled away from him and moved the curls away from his face that you can see him better.
“ Then don’t go, stay with me” He sighed and turned to look at you. You swore he was the most beautiful person you have ever seen in your life. He looked at you like he could give you the world but right now he was heart broken.
“ Neil would have my ass, your dad too and Maxine…” he trails off like he doesn’t want to mention he thought of leaving her and Neil might hurt her instead if he leaves. “ I can’t..” He swallows the lump in his throat and looks at you with tears in his eyes. 
“ You can’t leave me..” Your voice shook as you shook your head. “ How am I suppose to do this without you?”  
Billy wanted to throw himself onto you and hold you for dear life. He wanted to stay and continue to be here in California where he felt the most at home. He didn’t want to make new friends, he didn’t want to see new faces and he didn’t want to start a new school. 
Your shoulder shook as tears roll down your cheeks. This wasn’t fair. 
“ Can I got with you?” You asked. “ I can clean, cook and I can sleep on the floor” you added in hopes Billy would say that you could.
He sniffled as his head falls onto your shoulder. He wants to be close to you. He needs to be close to you. 
“ Neil won’t let you” Billy says. He wants more than anything for you to come along but he’s scared, he is scared what Neil might do to you and let alone him. “ Your father will not let you go either” he picked up his head as his blue tear eyes look at you. 
“ I’m going to miss you” you tell him. “ A whole lot” 
“ I’m going to miss you too” your hands cup his face and for the first time there, you both felt like you were disconnecting from your person. A piece of your heart was being handed to him and his own to you. 
“ Are you taking the Camaro?” A small chuckle escapes from him knowing you want his car if he ever left or something happened to him. “ I knew you were going to ask that” 
You shrugged. 
“ I am taking my baby with me” he says.
You two spend the rest of the day sitting like that, listening to the waves and staring at each other in the eye, no words exchanged. Billy felt the most home here in Californian, with you. He swore to himself he wasn’t going to find anyone compared to you. 
You dreaded the day when he had to move. You stood on the side walk watching him close the trunk of his car one last time and turned to look at you. Neil was grunting in disgust while Susan calmed him down, or tried to while Max watched with sadness. She loved how you affected her step brother, and she knew his secret and yours too. 
The both of you had found each other, you were each other favorite person and the secret was the two of you were in love with each other. It was much more difficult for Billy to grasp on what that is, but he sure knew that besides his mom, you were the only person to make him feel safe. 
“ It’s time to go, Billy” Susan tells him. Neil had already gotten into his car, clearly annoyed that he had to drag Billy with him. But Billy still lived under Neil’s roof. 
Billy threw his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder. He took a deep breath in trying to remembering your scent that it would always stay with him. You hugged him tight, wanting to remember how his curls would feel underneath your fingertips, how good he always smelled, how his smile widen when you appeared at his door step, how he was the only person to make you laugh and smile like no other and how he was the only person that made you realize what love is like. 
He made you feel safe as much as you made him feel safe. He pulled away from you not wanting to let go of you, of his moment, of having you in his arms. Your hands came up to his cheeks feeling his tears run down his cheeks. He had his eyes closed not wanting to see the hurt in your eyes.
But you chose to tell him. You chose to tell him in this moment that he could have. To have him understand that someone loved him like no one has loved anything before. 
“ I’ll come see you once I’m done with high school, and we can make new memories” He nodded giving your hips a squeeze showing you he was listening. “ Billy” his eyes opened at  the sound of his name. 
 “ Don’t forget me, Billy Hargrove” he shook his head. 
“ Never” He says. 
“ I love you Billy” 
In answer he nods, smiling. Of course you love him, your his best friend but you shook your head. That’s not exactly what you meant by that. 
“ No, Billy. I love you Billy Hargrove” his eyes widen at the words and mouth a jar as he pulled away from you but his hands were on your hips. His heart raced at the words and he thought he would never find anyone that would love him like he wanted. But here you were telling him that you did. 
In response, he took your hands in his and laced it with his, squeezing four times letting you know that he loved you too. It was his way of showing you that he felt the same and that was never going to change. His hands slipped away from yours as he stood back not wanting to anger Neil any more than he already has and made his way to the Camaro. He was about to open the door when he felt himself turned around and a pair of lips smashed against his.
A small sound escaped from him as his eyes widen realizing you were kissing him. He came to his senses not long and closed his eyes as he kissed you back. He wanted to stay like this forever. 
“ Enough!” Neil’s voice boomed causing you to pull away and glare over at Neil who gritted his teeth. 
The sound of Billy’s door handle caught your attention as he opened it and sat inside. He was driving there all on his own following Neil. He turn to start the car when your hands reached out to grab him by his shirt and he turns his head to have your lips meet his one more time. His hand dropped from the steering wheel and comes up behind your head, kissing you back. The kiss doesn’t last too long as Neil horn beeps breaking the kiss between you two.
“ One day he’s going to have what’s coming for him” Billy chuckles watching you pull your head out of his car window, and in sadness he puts the car in drive. He doesn’t look at you because if he does, he might never leave. 
“ I love you!” You shout to him as he drive off leaving you on the side of the road watching him leave. He looks into the review mirror at you getting smaller and smaller and the tears never stop running.
He hates Neil more than anything. Max turns around in the car watching as Billy cries as he drives behind Neil and her heart pulls heart strings wanting to scream at Billy to go back but she doesn’t and sits back. 
“ Pathetic” Neil mumbles looking at the review mirror at Billy seeing him cry. “ What a baby” Susan looks at him disapprovingly but doesn’t say anything. She can’t. 
Your heart feels like someone drove over it as you collapse onto the ground feeling like you lost a piece of your heart. 
Your father stood by the door of the house watching you pack your car, confused on where you off too suddenly. Things between your father and you haven’t changed, you’ve been taking care of him and he hasn’t been the best to you either. Raising his hand at you and raising his voice. 
“ Where do you think your going?” He asks. “ Get back in the house and make some dinner” he says pointing behind him. You huffed, and turn to glance at him with your hands on your hips. You were growing more tired of him as the days go by. 
“ Dad, I’ve been taking care of you since I was a little girl, it’s time I do something about it” he frowned and his hands grew into fists. 
“ Get back in the house before I come get you myself” he says. 
“ No dad, I finished school and I have saved enough money to make my own choice now. I am leaving and I am not coming back” your father grew angrier by the minute. 
“ Listen here you little girl, get back in the house and stop talking nonsense” 
“ No” you said getting into your own car. It wasn’t much but it got you places and as you started to drive off, your father reached the end of the driveway to catch up with you but it was no use as you were driving down the road. You let out a deep breath looking at the review mirror, happy to get away from that man. 
You were finally free and making the drive to Hawkins. 
“I’m coming, Billy” your foot pressed on the gas, with a smile on your face you were ready to see your best friend and the man you still loved after all this time. 
You didn’t know who to look for when you arrived at Hawkins, you had no place to stay and you had no idea where Billy was living. Was he still living with Neil? Was he safe? Was Max safe? All the questions ran through your head giving you a headache. You had checked into the hotel as your best choice, but you were hungry and looking for something to eat when you stumbled upon a diner. 
The sound of the bell rang above your head signaling a new customer, you had walked in. You chose a booth not too far off the door and folded your hands on the table waiting patiently for a waitress or a waiter to come by. A pair of voices had caught your attention when they walked through the door. 
“ She’s in a coma, I’m not sure we can all visit her” one voice said. 
“ Max doesn’t deserve this” another said. 
“ It’s been a long day, I am craving a burger. What are you getting?” Another voice asked. The name had caught your attention and you turned your attention to them to see if you could listen in more on what they were saying. But could they be talking about the same Max you were looking for? 
You were too lost in your thought to notice that one of them took notice that you were staring at them.
“ Can we help you?” He asked. He had chestnut hair, some strand hanging in front of his forehead, he had brown eyes and had some moles on his face and he looked older than the others. 
“Um…” you slide out of your seat and made your way over to their table, standing there.
“ I’m sorry, but you said the name Max. It wouldn’t be Max Mayfield by ay chance, would it?” They all looked at each other before turning back to you. 
“ Who are you and how do you know her?” 
“ My name is Y/N and her step brother, Billy is my best friend. Is he around too?” You asked. They were silent and fidgeting when you mentioned his name like they have heard about him but refused to talk about it. 
“ Billy is dead” one of them said quickly, causing your mouth to drop in surprise because you weren’t believing it. The guy that spoke up to your first, hit the other one who told you that Billy was dead in the arm with a glare.
“ Ow! What was that for?” He asked. 
“ Dude, we don’t even know her” The other pointed to you not noticing tears becoming to stream down your face. He finally turned his head noticing the look on your face and stood up, to have you only faint in his arms while he yelled for help. Your vision blurred and your eyes closed. 
No one knew what the government has been secretly hiding, at StarCourt mall when they found a dead Billy Hargrove, they took him back to the labs to have to be looked after. Firstly, Billy laid there on the table with black veins over him, in a white tank top and jeans covered in dirt. They examined his wounds and how the mind flyer killed him. 
They were going to bring Billy back to life even though many told them it was impossible to do so. They used all the methods they could do even closing up his wounds and instructing the small veins running through him and for some reason, some miracle, something made his eyes open. 
Billy stared at the light above his head, wincing at the brightness of it and groaned not knowing where he was or who he was for that matter. He rose up quickly seeing tubes connected to him. To his legs. To his arms. To his chest. He stared down at how own chest seeing scares shield up and as he reached touch it, someone spoke out. 
“ Don’t touch” he looked to see a doctor next to him, examining him and touching his arms.
“ Do you feel pain here?” He asked. Billy shook his head while he watched the doctor check on him. 
Billy felt really weird.
“ What is this place?” He asked looking around. “ Who are you?” He continued to ask questions and even asked who he was. Poor Billy has lost memories and doesn’t know who he is. It was like a whole new Billy has been born alive. 
Test after tests were being performed on Billy and each time, he failed to understand his name, where he lived, where he came from and any past memory he had. It wasn’t until they brought a file to him and laid it on top of the table. 
Billy reached out with his hands to open it to see a picture of you. His eyebrows pinched together in confusion on who you were first and he answered that he didn’t know you, he was going to push it away when he heard the laughter in his head. It sounded like a girl. The image appeared in his head as he lived the memory of the little girl shielding a boy from someone. His breath hitched when he noticed his own eyes, he was the little boy and the little girl stood her ground screaming at the other person. It’s the same girl in the picture of the table.
He shook his head, not wanting anymore test done to him. Day after day, the doctors performed more test and each day Billy was remembering who he was, where he came from, what his father did to him, his step sister Maxine, and then you. The person he left back in California.
“ I have to get back to her” he shouts at the doctors. His back against the wall as he shouts, anger growing in him.
“ You’ve done a great job, Billy. But you’re not ready for the world yet” they said to him. He slide against the wall not knowing what to do. His energy wasn’t fully there, his memories was. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he mumbled your name over and over again, how he wished he was with you.
You stared at Max’s body as she laid in the hospital bed, in coma. You had learned the names of her friends that she made here once she move here. Your heart was broken that Billy wasn’t alive, he should of been here and you didn’t know the full story of what happened, but you wished you were there when he died. At least to hold him. 
“I’m so sorry Max, I should of been here when this happened…” you took a hold of her hand in your own. 
“ Are you staying in Hawkins?” You believe his name was Steve who asked you while he stood on the other side of the bed. 
“ I am for now, spending a few nights in a hotel” 
“ Why don’t you stay with me? I live in a big house, my parents are gone most of the time” 
“ Dude!” Mike you believe his name was, hit Steve in the shoulder. “ You don’t even know her and now your letting her stay in your house?” 
Steve sighed as he looked over at Mike, “ she seems like a trust worthy person and she knows Max… and Billy” he sent you an apologetic look not really know how close you were with Billy. 
“ What if she is a serial killer or something?” 
“ You know I’m right here” 
“ She’s not” you turn your head to glance at the girl in the room that supposedly has some sort of powers. “ Max talked about her” she adds.
“ She did?” You asked. 
El was her name that she told you, nodded her head. 
“ You made her feel safe, her brother too” she says. “ I’m sorry” 
Later that night you had a room to stay in Steve house not really knowing him and yet he trusted you already, that was until you got back on your feet but he told you that you could stay as long as you liked. He helped you settle in. 
“ You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but who was Billy to you?” 
You hummed placing your clothes on the spare bed. 
“ He was my best friend and the person I fell in love with” Steve looked at you in disbelief because he didn’t really think that Billy had someone like you who looked at  him like that. 
“How long were you two together?” He continued to ask. 
“ We weren’t” Steve looked at you confused. 
“ I told him I loved him the day before he left” Steve’s heart sank to his stomach as he made his way over to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.
“ He wasn’t a good guy to us, and I’m sorry for your loss” 
“ Thank you” you turn to look at him offering him a smile. 
Now it was your turn to ask. 
“How did he die?” Steve face disappeared of any color on his face as he froze in his spot.
“ I don’t thin you’ll understand” 
“ Try me” he swallowed and nodded his head. 
“ Where do I begin?” He asked sitting on top of the bed as you followed. 
“ At the beginning, I want to know what happened and how” He nodded not really sure if you were going to handle hearing about the monsters crawling into Hawkins, how Billy died, Barb and about Vecna. As he told you the story, it took almost the whole night until morning for you to sit there and listen and when he was done, you were a loss of words. 
“ I wish I was there to help” you tell him. He smiled at your offering but shook his head, “ It would be too dangerous for you.” 
“ Thank you, but I think I would make a badass member to the gang” he laughed and that was the night that your friendship with Steve started to blossom. You trusted him most in the gang, until Robin stuck to your side and that’s when it was like the three of you were like the three musketeers. 
You wondered if Billy was looking down on you and rolling his eyes how you found them. Months go by, Billy was making more progress in the lab as he was growing stronger and healthier. He wasn’t labeled as a number. Billy. That was his name and that’s what they used. To your surprise and your new friends surprise, Max ended up waking up from her coma but it left her in a wheelchair. 
When she found out that you were out looking for her and found her, became friends with her friends, she was in tears of happiness and she apologized that she couldn’t save Billy in time. You simply promised her that from that day forward as long as she stuck to your side, that you were going to protect her from anything. 
She became like a sister to you. 
Things were going good, you were living with Max in a small apartment that you found not too far away from everyone. You were looking after Max with her friends visiting and Lucas and her rekindling how they felt about each other. It was cute. 
You had spend every day thinking about Billy and how your future would of been like with him. You miss him so much. You haven’t found anyone new to date, and you didn’t plan too any time soon.
You were comfortable with your life, at least for now. Not until there was a knock at the door that startled you. You looked over to Max who was watching Tv to see her looking at you with worry in her eyes.
“ Did you invite anyone?” You asked her. She shook her head. 
“ Did you?” You shook your head before making your way over to the door. Your heart was racing getting the feeling that who was on the other side of the door was not who you want to see. You threw the door opened and slammed the door shut right away. 
“ Who is it?” Max asked, rolling the wheel chair over to you. Your body shook in fear at who you saw at the door. It couldn’t be, he was dead. How was he alive? 
Max reached for the door knob and opened the door letting it swing open as her eyes widen seeing he was standing there. His curls were matted down a bit, his blue eyes stared down at his step sister in a wheel chair, and the color of his face was back to normal. He didn’t have any veins as he sued to. He wore a black leather jacket on him with a white shirt underneath with a pair of jeans. 
Billy. 
“ Who are you? What do you want?!” Max yelled. “ I will crush your feet with my wheelchair if you don’t speak” Billy couldn’t help but snicker hearing Max. 
“ Max, it’s me” he put his hand on his chest, patting it. “ It’s Billy” he says. 
“ No, my step brother died. Who are you?!” 
Meanwhile you had your eyes closed and standing against the wall trying to grasp at who you saw. He wasn’t real. He wasn’t real. That’s what you kept repeating in your head. How could he be here? 
“ Billy Hargrove, you know who I am” he says. Max shook her head rolling her wheelchair away from him and about to close the door when his foot got in the way. He opened the door while Max rolled back, in fear that she was seeing things. 
He stood there with his back to you when you opened your eyes and it wasn’t until he felt the shovers that he knew you were standing there. Those blue eyes turned to glance over at you over his shoulder, and they glossed over. 
You were here in Hawkins living with Max, looking after her. 
“ Y/N..” He spoke your name like it was the most angelic thing he has ever said to you. 
“ B-Billy..” He nods his head as he opens his arms and what he didn’t expect was for you to punch him in the chest repeatedly with tears streaming down your cheeks.
“ How could you?!” You kept repeating and he took every hit from you as he looked down before your arms wrapped themselves around him. Your tears soaking his chest. 
“ It’s me” he says, wrapping his arms around you as his lips brush over your forehead. “ How could you leave me?” You asked, your voice sound so broken that all he wants is to hide you away and kiss it all way. 
“ I’m sorry” he kept saying as he rocked with you back and forth on his feet. He pulls away after he hears you stop crying and cups your face with both his hands. 
“ It’s you” you mumble to which he nods. But you need more of him to make it real. Your eyes drop down to his lips and then back to his eyes as a way to tell him what you needed from him. He happily was going to kiss you. 
One of his hands went behind your head as he leaned in pushing his lips against yours with hunger, I’m sorry in it and that he still loves you after all this time in just one kiss. Your heart fluttered feeling the cracks made to your heart heal back having him back in your arms. One of your hands goes into his curls, tugging it causing him to groan and the sound of Max making fake barf noise made you pull away and laugh. 
“ Forgot you were in the room” 
“ Gee, thank you” she rolls her eyes. Billy turns to face Max. His eyes brimmed with tears as he walked over to her and kneel before her. 
“ I’m sorry, Max. I’m so sorry” she shook her head and fell into his arms without another word. Your own eyes brim with tears seeing them hug like this. You had never seen them to do this. Not once. 
“ Quick question” Billy pulls away from Max and looks over at you.
“ What happened to my car?” He asked. “ I know it’s destroyed and all but did someone else get it?” 
You laughed, fishing the keys out of the bowl by the door. 
“ You think I let someone else have her?” You swung the keys in front of him. 
Billy laughed as he stood up, “ I knew you always wanted my car.” 
“ Maybe, but more of the man who loved driving it” you winked. His cheeks flushed red.
“ You two are gross” Max says. 
“ Why don’t we go for a ride?” You asked, throwing the keys at him which he catches it. 
“ I thought you never asked”
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kitty35 · 2 years
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His Little Bunny
Shu Yamino x Bunny Hybrid and GN!Reader
Content warning!! This is for 18 years and older!! If you are a minor or ageless blog then do not proceed! Your account will be blocked.
Summary - Shu wanted to try out a new potion from his grandfathers old book. After what happened last time he made a potion, you think he'd learn not to do that. But, maybe it was okay this time.
Requested by @r0ck1n-r0ll I hope you enjoy ;)
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The rain poured hard as the day grew old and dark. The large elephant-ear leaf above my head was the only reason I wasn’t soaking wet right now. Though, it didn’t do much to keep out the cold. I shivered, hugging my legs to my body and burying my face in my knees to try and keep even a little warm. My ears laid against my chest, cold and dripping rain water onto my clothes.
Was this it? Was this really it? Was I about to die out here in the cold and rain, cast aside by the village people because of my bunny-like features? It wasn’t fair. I’m human, just like any of them. Only, with the ears and tail, they would never see me as an equal.
“What are you doing out here?” A voice asked. If I had the energy then I would have jumped at the sudden sound. But all I could do was turn my eye up a little to see a guy my age. His mostly dark hair had a few streaks of color in it and his eyes almost glowed a pretty purple in the darkness all around us. Slowly, I turned my head towards him. “Are you okay?” I shook my head ‘no’. He extended his hand towards me, a worried look in his eyes. “Common, I’ll help you feel better. My parents can fix you up.” It didn’t take much consideration on my end. Either die from the cold or trust this person to actually help me. Yeah, pretty easy decision. So, I reached my shaking hand out towards him. As he pulled me to my feet, I realized that he was holding an umbrella. No wonder he was still dry. Either I underestimated how strong he was or he underestimated how light I was because I crashed against him.
“Woah, careful.” He spoke calmly, wrapping his free arm around my waist to keep me steady on my feet. He easily noticed that my whole body was shaking and realized I probably would need help walking. Without a second thought, he handed the umbrella to me and picked me up.
“W-Wha?” I squeaked out, unsure of how to react. He was warm and his arms felt so inviting and caring. My voice had caught him off guard.
“Is something wrong? Do you not want me to carry you? I can put you down! I just, you know, thought it might be, like, easier! Since you can’t just-can’t really walk!” He rushed out, stuttering over almost every other word. For a second, my hands tightened and un-tightened around the umbrella handle before I shook my head ‘no’. 
“It’s okay.” I whispered. Those words took a weight off his shoulders before he began to walk.
“I’m Shu, by the way. Shu Yamino.” 
“Shu…” I mumbled, head falling to his shoulder. For a second I could feel his hands tighten over where they sat on my body. But they quickly released and went back to how they were. “…(y/n).” 
“Is that your name?” Once again, I nodded. “That’s a pretty name. It suits you.” Neither of us said anything after that as we finished the walk to his place. 
His parents fixed me up, which was when I learned they were the sorcerer family the towns people were always whispering about. Though, seeing them now, I didn’t understand their gossip. This family was lovely and not at all what the town said they were. The head of the family, Shu’s grandma, invited me to live with them after hearing how I didn’t have a place to go back to. 
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. Before long, it had been a year since I first met the Yamino family. Shu and I had grown particularly close over that time. We spent almost every second of the day together.
“Can you hand me the lemon grass?” He asked, catching my attention and making me stop kicking my feet back and forth before jumping off the counter I sat on. It only took a second for me to find the dried herb in the cabinets before handing it over to him. “Thanks.” He barley even looked up from his book while taking the small glass bottle from me. I moved back to where I sat, watching as he continuously stirred the big pot in front of him.
“What are you even making?”
“I wanted to see if I could do this one specific potion.”
“Didn’t your parents tell you to stay away from making potions after what happened last time?” His hand faltered in its stirring as he remembered turning me into a full on bunny. It took a couple of days and a lot of trouble for his grandma for me to be turned back. After all, potions are a lot stronger then spells. 
“It’ll be fine! This is grandpa’s book. He was always very precise with his potions.”
“If you insist.” With that, I hopped off the counter and headed towards the door. “I’ll be right back.”
“Be safe.” It was something he always said to be whenever I left his sight. For some reason it made my heart flutter.
It didn’t take long for me to return with two glasses of water in hand. Shu had been working hard for a while without any breaks, he probably needs a drink by now. Only, as soon as I walked in, I was all but suffocated with the overwhelming smell of him. As much as I love that smell, this was too much especially considering how sensitive my sense of smell has been since the previous potions incident.
“Shu, did you dump a whole bottle of your cologne in that or something?” I asked, setting my glass down in favor of pinching my nose. Carefully, I walked over to him to hand him the other glass. He jumped a little at my voice, head snapping up towards me. There was something in his eyes that made me pause. It was like he was struggling, as if he was trying to hold something back. I could even see a thin layer of sweat over his skin.
“What? It doesn’t smell like me, it smells like you? I guess the things I mixed together must be in your soap or something.” My head tilted a bit, confusion very obvious on my face. 
“Let me look over your recipe. Cause you’re going crazy if you think this smells like me.” As I walked past he grabbed his drink. Our hands brushed together and lightning shot through my finger tips, making me jump and pull away. For a second we just stared at each other. The intensity of his expression made my tail twitch. That moment passed and we both quickly went back to what we were doing, faces bright red and hands moving quick in embarrassment. 
It didn’t take long for me to be looking through the pages of his grandfathers old book. How did he know what he was making? The name and descriptions were written in a language I had never seen. The weird part was the ingredients were all in our language. Not only that, but the picture of the bottled up potion that was added for reference was in a heart shaped bottle. Even on the page, the content inside looked like it shimmered and swirled in a beautiful pattern. At very bottom of the ingredients list was the order in which they needed to be added then the words ‘drink me’.
“Shu, I don’t think you should…” My words trailed off as I turned around only to be met with him taking a big gulp from his glass. Only, the water was gone and inside the cup was the shimmering purple liquid. After it was half way gone, he brought it away from his lips. “How is it?” It took him a second to respond, staring at me with blown out eyes.
“Have you always been this pretty?” The question made red creep up my neck.
“W-What?” He began to slowly walk closer.
“You heard me. I think you look really pretty right now.” My feet backed up till I hit the counter I previously sat on. His arms pinned me in, hands resting against the cool marble on either side of me. “Fuck…so pretty, just for me.” His purple eyes glowed in the dim lighting as he tilted his head. It was uncharacteristic of him to curse like that. The way it so easily rolled off his tongue made my knees weak. “I swear, you make me feel things I didn’t even know I could feel.” He was so close to me. I could feel his breath ghosting over my lips. Not only that but his scent was so strong, it was making me dizzy. It was almost like my whole brain was fuzzy with the thought of him. I hadn’t even realized but my hands now rested against his chest. “Why’re you looking at me like that?” His words were slurred as they passed his cheshire-like smile.
“Please…kiss me.” I whimpered. This made his smile grow, happily pressing his lips against mine. Slowly his hands moved to help me onto the counter before settling on my thighs, pressing them open so he could fit between them. After a few seconds, he pinched my leg, making me jump and squeak. In a heart beat he shoved his tongue in my mouth. If my eyes were open then I swear they would have rolled to the back of my head at his taste. Not only that, but I could still taste the potion on his lips and tongue. 
“You have no idea what you do to me, bunny.” He mumbled, pulling back and trailing down my neck. “When ever I bring you into town and everyone stairs at you, I swear I just wanna fuck you dumb right then and there. Show them who you belong to. You’re my little bunny.”
“Only yours.” It was surprising my voice was as steady as it was considering how his hands were now kneading against the tops of my thighs.
“Good. Only mine.” I could hear and feel him sucking dark purple spots onto my neck. I couldn’t help how turned on it was making me. Thankfully, he was fully absorbed in marking me as his to notice. “I hate it when other people pull on your ears. They always get the cutest sounds out of you.” A harsh bite was placed right under my jaw as one of his hands came up to brush against to soft fur of my ear. “It isn’t fair. I should be the only one who can hear those noises.”
“I don’t mean to!” I tried to defend myself. “I can’t help it when people pull on them.”
“Really?” With that, he yanked on the ear that he was holding. This pulled a large moan from my throat. One hand wrapped around him, bringing his body closer to mine, as the other covered my mouth. Our hips finally met. I could feel that he was painfully hard as he pressed himself even further against me, desperate to feel me even more. 
“Hey, bunny, don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear those pretty noises.” He brought his head from my neck to look at me while pulling my hand away from my face. “Here, tug at my hair instead. Show me how much you love what I’m doing to you.” With that, he placed my hand on his scalp. In a heart beat, I was lightly pulling against it. “Good bunny.” He grumbled, glowing eyes half-lidded as he stared down to my trembling form. “My good bunny. So pretty for me.”
“Please…more…I need more.”
“My little bunny wants more?” I nodded, eyes closing as I tilted my head down. His hand moved my head back up. “Do you deserve more?” My eyes shot open at the thought of him not giving me what I wanted.
“Yes! Yes, I’ve been good! I’ve been so good! Please.” He tilted my head back and forth a little as a wicked smile came to his lips.
“You sound so pretty when you beg… Beg for me more.”
“I want you! I’ve wanted you for so long, please just let me have you. I promise I’ll be good! I’ll be your good bunny!” I couldn’t control my words at all. The effects of the potion that entered my body from Shu’s lips worked quickly. To say I lost all control over my desires would be an understatement. I wanted him and my brain and body would do anything they could to get him. If I was even a little more conscious then I would marvel at how even a few drops could be this strong. I could only imagine how Shu felt considering he drank half a glass.
“Fuck… If we start this I don’t think I can stop.” It was a moment where his eyes lost their cloudy look. He knew what he was saying in that moment, wanting to make sure I was okay with whatever he was about to do. “I need you to tell me you want this. That you want me.” My hand that was in his hair brought him closer to me once again. Our lips slammed together, teeth colliding in the process as our tongues danced.
“I want you. Please take me.” I’m not sure how he was able to hear my words against his mouth, but he did. In a heart beat, he was lifting me up.
“Need more room.” He mumbled, bringing us to the floor. There, he laid me against the cold wood. I whimpered and squirmed, “Shhh, shh, it’s okay.” He shushed me, running his hands up and down my sides to try and warm me up again. In a flurry of lust, there was a moment of care as he pulled away from my lips. Our eyes connected as he brought a hand to my cheek, thumb rubbing over the soft flesh. The grip that I had on his hair loosened till I was also holding his cheek, my other arm wrapping around his neck. There was so much love in his eyes as he stared down at me.
“Let’s get rid of this.” He tugged at my top, freeing me of it. A large sigh fell from his lips as he looked down towards my chest, loving every curve and dip that he could see. “So perfect.” With that, his head dipped down to bite at my collar bone. Once he was happy with the work he had done, he began to move lower.
“Shu…please.”
“Please, what? What does my little bunny want?”
“I want you… I need you. Please, I need more then just your mouth.”
“Well, if you insist.” The smirk he gave as he sat up, positioning my legs around his hips so we pressed together, made me weak. I knew this would be a long, tiring, day.
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deancasbigbang · 7 months
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Title: Then Till Now
Author: silver_penny
Artist: spiffyflypie
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen, Dean & Sam, Dean & Charlie, Cas & Anna, Cas & Claire
Length: 20000
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Tags: 17776 AU, human/nonhuman relationship, alien invasion, happy ending, dialogue-heavy, rocketry
Posting Date: November 1, 2023
Summary: It's the year 17776, and Dean Winchester is used to the peace. Humanity has stabilized the climate, vanquished world hunger, and achieved equitable global co-operation. Nanobots swoop down to heal every little paper cut, and if no one is born anymore, well, no one dies either. When the Cassini-Huygens space probe crashes into his life – newly conscious, bluntly sarcastic, and deeply skeptical of humanity's late triumph – it's the most interesting thing to have happened to Dean in millennia. But out in deep space, something truly interesting is stirring...
Excerpt: Bobby’s wrong about the house – it’s not too big, not for Sioux Falls and especially not for their family – but when he opens the door and the creak echoes out into a cavernous empty space, it kind of feels that way. Dean ends up in the Deancave, curling up in the best seat and summoning up something old and a little mindless to watch. Hello.  It’s the first thing he’s heard in hours, and for a moment Dean doesn’t even recognize it as another person. But it lingers, the way real environmental sounds do. Dean mutes the TV. “Hello?”  Yes.  Dean bites his lip. “Hello, yeah. You okay?”  I’m not sure.  “Alright. What’s up? Can I help?”  I am unsure if that is something you are capable of doing.  Dean blinks. “Okay. You just soliciting or something? Sorry, man, not interested.”  I am not...soliciting.  “Okay?”  I have no interest in solicitation.  “So any reason you decided to barge into my evening, then? If you don’t need anything, you don’t want anything...”  I am talking to you on the advice of my brother.  “Who’s your brother?”  Pioneer G.  Dean blinks again and then slowly sets his remote control back down. “The – the space probe? Pioneer G?”  He likes to be called Gabriel.  Of course he does. “You’re talking to me from space?” There’s a very long pause. Yes. “Huh.”  I don’t know where else I would be talking from.  “Yeah,” Dean says, “of course not.”  You are also talking to me from space.  “From Earth,” Dean says absently. “Not quite the same thing.” There had been, of course, probes on the news. How humanity built something that, millennia later, could wake up like that, for lack of a better term...that was still a mystery. The scientists were all over it, of course, but maybe a little less urgently than they might have been, once upon a time. And now there was a spacecraft interrupting his show. Dean clears his throat. “So, um, any reason your brother thought I would be the best person for this conversation?”  He didn’t.  Now Dean squints at the ceiling. “You know, you’re not doing a great job answering my questions.” There’s a beat. Two beats.  My apologies. Gabriel requested that I “go find one of those humans to chat with if you want to talk so much.” You were in an optimal position.  “I am, huh?”  Yes.  “You mean, like...spatially? Cosmically?”  Your position on Earth is optimal for transmission at the current moment. Also I can see your television. Huh. “So who are you, then?” Dean asks. He kicks up his feet a bit and studies the ceiling, imagining the moon and stars that might show behind it, once the sun goes down. He racks his brains, but even back when the space program was at its height, it didn’t make top thousand on the Winchester priority list. “Hubble? Sputnik?” Sam would know more.  Cassini-Huygens. Dean catches his breath.
DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule
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thestoryden · 2 years
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Hello, i hope you have a wonderful day ! My request is : Reader has been bullied by Jason's group and the cheerleaders, she decides to visit Eddie at his house for him to comfort her. (they are quite close) (Afterwards if an idea comes to you I'll let you do it ❤️)
Target
Eddie x Bullied!Reader Warnings: Blood, Bullying, Violence, Fluff, Smoking, Comfort, Language Word Count: 1.4 k
This came out far less fluffy than I anticipated, so fair to say I will be making a very fluffy sequel to this. I want to capture that cuteness and the soft moments. / Edit: the sequel didn't scratch the fluff itch. I think it might do better as a series
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Once upon a time you had been Chrissy’s best friend. You had been the perfect fit, you had the award winning smile and were kind to everyone around you. But, your kindness had gotten you in trouble to the point of no return. Towards the end of junior year you had come upon Jason beating up Eddie. Jason had accused Eddie of taking something of his, and used that to justify his brutality against him. You threatened to tell Chrissy about what he was doing, and in response he had told Chrissy you made a play to get with him behind her back. Chrissy, wanting to see the best in Jason, believed him. You were devastated by the betrayal, but what happened next you couldn’t have possibly foreseen. Everyone you had called a friend for the past three years now sought your destruction. In their eyes you had dared to try and usurp Chrissy’s power and now her courtiers were after you. At first it wasn’t so bad. Just insults and nasty notes from the rest of the cheer squad. Then it was being shoved into walls and hit on the back of the head from the basketball team. Through all of this you had made fast friends with Eddie, who you had saved from a beating which he had actually taken to save a younger member of his club. He comforted you when the bullying happened. You comforted him when he flunked senior year for the second time. You assumed the bullying would cool down over the summer, but you were wrong. You had gotten a letter telling you not to come to summer cheer practice or else. Which meant you were off the squad. That night you cried hard in Eddie’s arms. He wanted to ease your pain so he offered to smoke with you. You accepted just wanting to relax for a moment. You two spent the summer together planning out D&D sessions, listening to music, and learning how to play bass. School was about to start again and you were nervous. Eddie reassured you that senior year was a breeze. You laughed in his face in response. Then you had gotten the fateful letter in the mail right before school started. In it Chrissy had said she had wanted to make up and be friends again. She wanted to meet you at the school and talk everything out. You wanted to be friends with Chrissy again and were elated to get her letter. That leads you to your current situation waiting for Chrissy in the school parking lot at about forty-five past seven. 
It becomes apparent to you that Chrissy is in fact not showing up. You had biked here about an hour ago and no sign of Chrissy this whole time. “Maybe I read the letter wrong,” you think. You look back over the letter. You are right on the time, place, and day. You start to mount your bike to head off when you hear a car pull up. 
“Thank God,” you say, “I thought you weren’t coming for a second.” 
You turn around and are greeted by Jason and his friends. 
“Miss me?” he asks. 
You freeze for a second unsure of what to do. Two of the players get out of the car and run up to you. Grabbing you on either side they hall you towards the trunk of Jason’s car. They open it up 
“Please don’t do this, please I’m begging you.” you reason. 
They hoist you off the ground and throw you in. You hit your head on a tire iron. The trunk slams behind you, leaving you in complete darkness. 
“Let’s have some fun boys!” you hear Jason yell. 
The music blares and the car bumps up and down the country roads of Hawkins then there is a sudden stop. The trunk opens with a click and there are bright lights shining in your face. Jason pulls you out onto the tarmac. He yanks you up to your feet. Tears are streaming down your face. 
“Please please don’t do this.” 
Jason drags you in front of his car, the headlights illuminate the dark road. You shake violently, sputtering pleas begging him to let you go. He raises his hand with a flashlight in it and brings it down on to your face. Striking on the side opposite where the tire iron hit. 
“Listen here you freak slut.” he seethed, “In a second, I’m going to get back in my car, and I’m going to tell you to run. When those words leave my mouth you are going to run like your life depends on it. And we are going to hunt you down like the dog you are. Got it.” 
Tears well up in your eyes and snot runs down your face. Blood drips down your forehead, matting into your bangs and crusting into your eye brows. Your throat tightens and your lips tremble. 
“Jason,” you croak, “Please.” 
He hops into his car and gives you a smile. 
“Run,” he says. 
At first you start off slowly as you can not see where you are going, but then you hear the engine rev behind you. You bolt into the dark. Your breathing gets heavy but the car sounds fainter, so you keep going. Then suddenly it is on your right and one of the boys is leaning out the side with a bat held up high. It makes a sickening thud when it hits your body. You stumble onto the ground. You hear the tires screech as the car flips round. The gravel crunches as it slowly approaches you. You begin crawling on your hands and knees into the woods.Your palms hit the pine straw and you attempt to stand, grabbing on to a tree for support. The car idles on the road and one of its doors slam. 
“Where are they?” Jason shouts. 
He flashes his light into the woods and sees your silhouette. You run faster than you ever had before. The boys flashlights sweep over the trees as you zigzag between the brush patches. Then you see a faint glow in the distance and head for it. It flickers and moves. Your whole body hurts as it heaves with your lungs trying to suck in as much air as possible. You hit a rock and tumble towards the wavering hope. You look up and can faintly make out a silhouette. 
“Please you have to help me.” you mumble. 
Everything is spinning and you can not reorient yourself. An arm slips under you and lifts you off the earth. Before you can get your bearings you are half running half being dragged till you hit a tree line.There are street lights and trailers and a gravel road. Your companion takes you towards a trailer. You are pushed through the entrance and the door clicks locked behind you. You look up from the floor to see a curtain of hair and a jean vest. 
“Eddie?” you mumble faintly. 
“What is going on?” he says. 
You try to explain what exactly happened, but your words become muddled. Everything is going in and out of focus. 
“No, no, no. You have to stay awake.” Eddie says panicked. 
He runs into the kitchen and grabs a towel and some paper napkins. He fills the towel with ice. He rushes back to your side and cradles your head into his lap. He gently blots away the dried blood and holds the napkins to your head trying to stop the excess bleeding. The light of the living room shines around his head making him look angelic. You laugh a little. You reach up your hand to his face and hold it softly. He smiles back at you with concern, before placing the cool compress on your forehead. The cold and damp sensation breathes a bit of life back into you. 
“It’s cold,” you groan. 
“It’s supposed to be,” he replies.
He pulls you into him and rises shouldering your weight as he drags you to his room. You try your hardest to stay uprightish as much as you can. You let out a cry when you fall into the bed. Your body explodes with new pain spreading out from your back. Eddie winces and rests his hand against your cheek. He sits next to you. 
“We're going to get through this okay.” he whispers. 
In your haze you finally say what you have always wanted to, “Eddie if this is my last night on earth I just want to let you know something, I love you.”
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littlewinter1917 · 1 year
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The Haunting
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Part I - I See You In Everyone
My blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI 🔞 Don't reposed my work anywhere.
Series Masterlist
Series Summary: It’s been a few months ever since your boyfriend, Billy Hargrove, died in the battle of Starcourt Mall. You’re still struggling to come to terms with his death, when weird things start happening in your house - almost as if you’re being haunted. Against your better judgement, you get the growing feeling that it’s Billy, and that he’s trying to tell you something, but you cannot figure out what. And then the Vecna attacks start happening, and you and your friends are hurled back into an adventure that seems closely tied to the weird activities in your house, to Billy, and above all, the cursed town of Hawkins, Indiana.
Words: 20.6k (Yes, I know, a little excessive)
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader
Chapter warnings: A lot of grief, angst and survivor’s guilt. Some hurt/comfort. Slightly spooky stuff. Some swearing. Talks about Billy’s death and the events of Starcourt Mall.
Please check out the more detailed series warnings here if you’re unsure about what this story might entail in future chapters.
A/N: I’m quite excited about finally being able to share the first chapter of this! I’m not sure if anyone wants to read a slightly spooky story in the middle of March, but I’m impatient incarnate, so, I simply cannot wait until October to publish this.
I really wanted to capture a certain eerie atmosphere in this story, and you can find some of the visual inspirations I’ve used for it here, as well as a playlist, which you can find on Spotify here.
I've also decided to start a taglist, and you can fill out this form here or let me know in a comment if you want to be tagged in the next chapter <3
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“And now, another song that’s been requested: Survivor’s I can’t hold back! A great one, might I add; and even greater for this particular Friday night.” 
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You quietly curse under your breath, as you try to turn off the radio quickly, because that’s the last song you need to hear right now.
Truly, the last song.
“Oh, come on! What is it with you this time?”
The annoyance in your voice is only amplified by the angry stare that you throw the car radio’s way, once you realize that the off button seems to have developed a mind of its own, as it stays unresponsive to your biddings. 
“No, no, no!” You whisper, panic rising up in your chest, as the opening notes of the song start to play, and the radio still doesn’t budge.
Pushing the button forcefully a few times more, just for good measure, and maybe as a way to air some of your current frustrations, you can’t help but curse that damn Camaro. 
“Fuck!”
Even though your steering wheel bears hardly any responsibility for your current misery, it finds itself on the receiving end of your angry outburst anyway, as you hit against it hard. 
This must be one of fate’s cruel jokes again, you think defeated, as the song continues to play on; and haven’t you had enough of those already? 
Truly.  
There’s no other way to stop the oncoming catastrophe either, because neither the switch to change channels, nor the one that regulates the volume, reliably work anymore. And with the on/off button now officially joining their ranks of the dead and unresponsive, there’s nothing left for you to do. 
No way for you to avoid the song that used to mean so much to you. 
To the both of you. 
To you and Billy. 
“And I feel the hand of fate ♪
reaching out to both of us.  
♪ I’ve been holding back the night.”  
Jimi Jamison sings, and your grip around the steering wheel tightens, as you try hard to keep it together. 
This used to be your song, but now it’s nothing more than a torture device that leaves a hole the size of the earth in your already desecrated heart. 
How it can still hurt so much, without there being anything left to destroy, is not something you have an answer to; only that you’ve run out of tears weeks ago, yet the ache in your heart never falters, never sleeps. 
You feel like this is going to haunt you forever, for a lifetime, at least. 
And that’s without having to listen to that stupid song!
You try to distract yourself by focusing on the road instead, but the darkness of the night and the cold silhouettes of the surrounding trees hardly offer a relief. 
Or a distraction. 
The headlights of your car seem to be the only guiding constant in this equation, as they illuminate fractures of the passing landscape before moving on to something further away in the distance, over and over again. 
It’s kind of unsettling, really, if you think about how much of your current surroundings you can’t see, can’t capture with the fleeting lights of your vehicle. How behind the first line of trees looms another, darker one, and then another, and another, and- 
“That’s a forest for you, sweetheart.” Billy would’ve probably teased with a smile, if you’d voiced that thought to him. 
If he was still around. 
He is not.
Instead, you get taunted by a fucking rock ballad, and the wave of painful memories that come with said tune. 
To your horror, it’s not even halfway done yet, and for a moment you actually consider stopping the car completely and turning off its ignition, just to escape it. 
Just to make it stop.
But, miraculously, your silent prayers seem to have been heard by someone with at least a little bit of agency in this universe, because suddenly, out of nowhere, that current curse of a song gets cut off by blaring sounds of static before a different melody breaks through the speakers. 
“ Operator … could you help me…” 
Jim Croce’s voice croaks through the buzzing noises, and a shiver runs down your spine at the memory of where exactly you know that song from.
But before you can dwell on that too much either, your radio simply decides to unceremoniously turn itself off. 
“Fucking finally,” you mumble relieved, while the long-awaited silence engulfs you and the surrounding space of your Camaro. 
Your Camaro?
Billy’s Camaro. 
No one’s Camaro.
Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you quickly come to the unpleasant realization that silence has its teeth and claws too, as it grows and takes shape right there beside you in the car, flashing you a sinister smile, threatening to swallow you whole. 
Getting haunted and tortured by music, or torn apart by nothing, is hardly a choice worth making. 
Especially not when you’re driving through a darkened forest, on the way home to a town you deeply resent, in a car that used to be your boyfriend’s before he got possessed and brutally killed by an inter-dimensional goo monster. 
And the scars of that story still litter your heart, and your thoughts, and your memories, in ways you can’t even begin to express, because the pain is simply too vast to fit into words, or phrases, or anything else that bears some form of communicational function.
Except scars would imply healing; and you feel anything but that. 
Healed.  
Nor do you think you’ll ever get there again.
Not in this lifetime, you won’t.
You speed up the car a little, until you see the first flickering lights of the town you call both, home, and hell; and the knot that builds in the pit of your stomach at the sight is not something you actively fight anymore. 
You wouldn’t know how to anyway these days. 
Once upon a time, there was the pleasant dream of Californian beaches, of the day where both you and Billy would speed off into the night together, and never, ever, come back again. 
Only for you to wake up in one big, cruel nightmare, with no means for you to escape it.
You wouldn’t know how to anyway these days.
Somehow, you make it through half of the town, despite feeling like you’re on fire, and each passing crossroad is only adding gasoline to the flickering flames eating away at your heart. There’s memories splattered all over this town, and the stains they leave won’t ever truly wash away. No amount of tears, or denial, or distraction will do that job. 
You’ve tried all three enough times to confidently stand by that verdict. 
There’s no escaping it. 
You would have to soak your heart in bleach and acid to get the remnants of Billy out; and even then you’re not sure it would work, because Billy has been the sole inhabitant of that place hidden deep within your chest for so long, that you don’t think it would still count as your heart, without Billy in it.
There’s nothing that can fill the bleeding gash he left in your life, and it’s not like you’d want to replace him either. 
You just want him back. 
You still wait and long for that moment, where you wake up and find out that all of this was just one, big, exceptionally cruel nightmare. 
Yet, that moment never comes, and as of late, you’ve started to lose faith that it ever will. 
Acceptance, or so they call it, but this is just one more of the many things you’d rather not think about. 
And by the time you reach the trailer park, you’ve succeeded in your mission, of blocking these thoughts out completely.
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As usual, Max is already standing outside her trailer, waiting for you, and she’s quick to run up to the car as soon as she spots you and the blue Camaro.
You’ve barely come to a stop, when the door to the passenger side already swings wide open, and the little redhead plops down beside you. 
“You’re late.” Are the first few words she throws your way, and with a quick glance at the tiny time display inside your dashboard, you come to the realization that she’s right. 
You are almost 15 minutes late. 
Weird, you think with a frown, you could have sworn you left the newspaper’s office just in time – a rather rare occurrence these days. You’ve been doing a lot of overtime ever since Starcourt Mall. 
Anything, really, to keep yourself from going home or not being busy enough. With Fridays being the only exceptions, because, well, you and Max have shared plans on these evenings.
A ritual, so to speak.
“Sorry,” you mumble apologetically, “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
“It’s alright, can we just go now, please?” Max grumbles, one of her legs bouncing nervously in anticipation. 
“Right, right.” You state, before maneuvering the car out of the gravely grounds of the trailer park.
The silence that’s been haunting you is back inside the car, hovering over you and your dead boyfriend’s little sister from the comfort of the backseat now.
“So, uhm, how’s school?” You offer, as a way to keep its claws from gripping either one of you too tightly.
It’s a sorry excuse of a topic, and you almost cringe physically as the words leave your lips.
Still better than silence, though.
But Max just huffs as a response, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.
“It’s fine.” She says in a way that leaves you to think that she’s said these exact words today about a million times before.
Like a script. 
Like something she’s practiced and recites automatically, without much heart or thought.
Like the way you do, too, whenever someone brings up your current emotional state or well-being.
Looking over at the little redhead, you quietly observe the way the passing lights of the street lamps illuminate her face, and let her drift into darkness again.
Illuminate her face, and let it drift into darkness again. 
Turning your gaze back towards the road, you can’t help but take the mental note that she looks exceptionally pale today. Paler than she did the last time you saw her, which would have to be exactly a week ago. 
Maybe, it’s just the harsh and unforgiving lights of the street lamps feeding that illusion, you tell yourself, but you know in your heart that’s not right. After all, these lights must have been the same ones last time around, too, and you don’t remember her looking so pale then, so what exactly changed now?
As usual, she has her headphones hanging loosely around her neck, and the baggy flannel she’s wearing is something you immediately identify as Billy’s.
There’s a lump the size of the earth stuck in your throat now.
You know she’s hurting. One could say you all are, but it’s safe to say that Billy’s sudden death hit Max and you the hardest.
Launching the two of you into the biggest and deepest spiral. 
You’ve lost the love of your life, and she lost her only brother.
Her big brother.
And though they shared a rather rocky sibling dynamic from the very start, things had been cooling down over the past year. They even started bonding a bit before the tragic events of Starcourt Mall.
Before both of your lives were turned completely upside down, and then never recovered.
Glancing once more over to the girl next to you, you’re overwhelmed by a massive wave of helplessness that washes over you mercilessly. 
Dunking your head underwater, filling your lungs and your chest with despair, rendering your body immobile.
Taking you over, and under, and then spitting you out. 
Soaking your heart till it drowns.
You feel like you should have some comfort, some guidance, something, anything, to say, that might make your young friend feel a little better, but you’re struggling just as much as she is. 
There are no words to relieve the steady ache in your chest, the silent longing, the pounding headaches from all the crying. 
So why should it be any different for her? 
Anything anyone says to you, about how time will heal and mend the cracks of your heart, how they understand, how they’re there to help; it all feels like a cruel joke.
Because no time can heal or mend your heart. There’s hardly anything left of it anyway.
And they don’t understand your loss because, how could they? 
They didn’t lose the love of their life. 
Hell, most of them didn’t even know Billy. 
At least not the real Billy. 
No, they didn’t know him the way you did.
They only knew him as the troublemaker, the hot lifeguard, the one with the speeding Camaro and the anger issues. 
The one who embodied recklessness down to his very bones. 
And don’t most men like that die a tragic and terribly young death? 
But you knew him as the sensitive and softhearted boy he really was underneath it all.
The one who would snuggle into your side even in his sleep, because he always needed you as near and as close as possible.
The one with a terribly odd sense of humor, that would make you laugh until your stomach hurt. 
The one who was so utterly protective and tender when it came to you; whose kisses could make the world stop spinning, whose touches felt like heaven on earth, making even the strongest of angels blush and bloat with envy. 
Billy, your Billy, was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of guy. 
Someone, who took over your heart and mind in an instant. 
And you knew even then, after the first few dates you two shared, that your life would never be the same again without him in it.
He did have his demons, too, of course. 
The angry voice of his father, like a taunting shadow in the back of his mind. 
The lack of love and trust, a jealous and hungry monster in his heart.
It took a while, until he truly opened up to you, but when he did, well, you got to experience an exceptionally vulnerable and strong-willed man, whose cards had always been stacked against him; but still he fought, still he survived, still he loved you with a heart so fragile, so scared; with an utter and blatant tenderness, that no one who’d hear the name Billy Hargrove would connect to the boy in question.
But to you they were one and the same, really. 
Yet you’ve lost all of that in an instant, in the blink of an eye. 
And you’ll never get it back either, never get to experience the future you and Billy dreamed so vividly about. 
Now his body is stuck in a town he hated, and you’re stuck right there with him.
So, no, when people say they know or understand your loss, they really don’t. Because it wasn’t their world that was ripped away and taken from them in the most cruel way; but yours was. 
And Billy’s. 
And you’ll never recover from it, you’re sure of that. 
There’s a crater where your heart once was. 
There’s only hurt where there once was love and happy memories. 
And the pain of that loss is so vast, so strong, it renders you almost physically immobile on some days.
The bad days. 
The really bad days.
You have a lot of those.
And the empty promises of, “I’m there if you need anything,”  or, “If I can help in any way, let me know,”  they hurt the most, like stabs and twists of an ugly knife, because where were these promises, when Billy needed them?
When he needed help, there was no one there. 
Not even you, because you’d been out of state. 
The biggest mistake of your life. 
But despite that, there had been so many other people in the cursed town of Hawkins, Indiana, and yet, no one noticed. No one cared. And the few people that did realize something was wrong, well, that apparently wasn’t enough. 
And on some days you can’t help but think that maybe they simply didn’t try hard enough.
You know you’re not being fair in your judgment or resentment, but those feelings are hard to stop and rationalize. 
You wonder if Max feels a similar way. If that’s one of the reasons why she keeps such a distance from most of her friends these days. 
You know you kind of do. 
“Geez, is your radio broken, again?” Max curses, her finger still lingering over the on/off button, that apparently stayed unresponsive to her biddings, too.
Her words are what pulls you out of the hurricane in your head, and back into reality.
“Yeah, sorry, it started acting up again earlier.”
Max shakes her head slightly, before muttering, “That’s so weird that it keeps happening, right? Maybe you should let Eddie look over it once more.” 
“He already did, trice. I don’t want to bother him a fourth time with this.”
“I don’t think he’d be bothered. If anything, he would probably rejoice. Come to think of it, maybe it’s been his doing all along; manipulating the car to get you to talk to him, I wouldn’t put it beyond him.”
“Well, I would.”
There’s the hint of a hint of a smile playing on both of your lips. 
“It’s a shame that the Camaro doesn’t like tapes either, anymore.” Max slender fingers linger on the opening of the tape enclosure for a moment, and you watch her with careful eyes.
“Yeah, it’s-“
“It’s almost as if she knows.” Max interrupts, her blue eyes questioningly finding yours.
Despite the fact that she and Billy aren’t related by blood, her eyes look so much like his to you. 
“It’s like the Camaro knows that these aren’t Billy’s tapes, and so, she rejects them.”
“Max,” you chide gently, because now that’s ridiculous. 
“I’m sure the Camaro would reject Billy’s tapes as well; I just haven’t gotten around trying it out yet.”
And I don’t think I ever will, you think.
You can’t even bear the idea of listening to them without him by your side, laughing and singing along. It just feels wrong.
“After the crashes, not everything in this car could be fixed or replaced. She’s bound to have some quirks and flaws. The tape player not properly functioning is just one of those cases, you know.”
“I’m sure they said something similar about Christine.” The redhead mumbles dryly, and you can’t help but scoff with a laugh.
“Max, please.” you huff, trying to keep a straight face. 
“I’m just saying that Billy would have probably kicked me out of the car if I’d asked him to play Kate Bush, so it makes sense that his car would react the same.”
“Oh, hush, Billy wouldn’t have minded a little Kate Bush. In fact, I think he would have secretly liked it.” 
Now, it’s Max’s turn to scoff in disbelief, because of all the lies she’s been told today, this has to be the most blatant one yet.
“Yeah, right.” She states, voice dripping with sarcasm. 
“I’m serious!” You insist, “but I guess that only means Billy’s never told you about that time when he and I got awfully drunk on my mom’s expensive port wine, and we were convinced that now was the best moment to try and learn the choreography to Wuthering Heights .” 
Max looks at you wide-eyed. 
“You’re kidding.” 
“I’m really not.” 
There’s a short pause as you recall the memory, a small smile playing on the edge of your lips.
“You know, he was always surprisingly steady on his feet, even while drunk, and so of course he ended up being a whole lot better at executing that damn choreo than I was.”
You still remember that night vividly. The two of you had laughed so hard, your stomach still ached the very next day. And you’ll never forget the big, boyish smile taking over Billy’s face, when he managed to nail the Choreography part of the chorus without much fault. 
“I’ve got it!” He’d beamed, outshining all of the stars that night.
“Look, look! I've got it!” 
And as he twirled around he almost knocked your dad’s car magazines off the coffee table. But he still looked great doing it, and most importantly, he was having the time of his life, so, it was all okay. 
He looked so young that day, so full of life and hope. 
That memory, like all memories involving Billy, stings somewhere deep within your chest. But for a brief moment there’s also a small spark of happiness there, as a tiny smile etches itself on your lips. 
A very tiny smile, but a smile, nevertheless.
And Max, who’s lost in the idea of trying to imagine her older brother dancing to that particular song out of all the possible songs, well, there’s a tiny smile on her lips playing, too.
“That must have been quite a night to remember.” She mumbles, and you nod your head in agreement. 
“It was.” You admit softly. 
It really, really was. 
The silence that takes over the car now has nothing threatening, nothing sinister. Instead, there’s a calmness that you haven’t experienced in quite a while, and for a moment you feel like you can breathe again. 
Like you aren’t suffocating under the weight of Billy’s loss. 
Or your loss. 
The loss of the world.
“Alright, we’re almost here.” You state while setting the blinker as you take the last turn. It’s only a handful of minutes now, until you two will reach your destination. 
Billy’s final destination. 
Clenching your hands into fists around the steering wheel, you realize just how much that truth still angers and upsets something deep within you.
That thought, however, drifts into the background as the parking lot creeps into view, and just like every Friday evening, there’s not a single spot taken. 
Not a single car around. 
Except for the one you and Max are currently sitting in. 
The headlights of the Camaro illuminate a sparse line of trees in front of you, as you park the car, and you can vaguely make out the first few silhouettes of some lonely gravestones peeking out from behind them. 
For a brief moment, you stare at the sight ahead of you. Taking in the way the cold light of the car leaves an eerie glow on the dark tree barks, giving their trunks a haunting yet artificial look. The grass beneath, wet with dew, or remnants of the last rain, reflects the light softly, intensifying the surrounding glow. 
The only thing missing is some fog, you think. But with summer slipping into autumn, that kind of element is waiting just around the corner. Give it another week or two, and you and Max will have the perfect horror movie setting at your hands by then.
“I’ll go grab the flowers from the trunk.” Max pulls you out of your thoughts again, and you take that as your cue to shake the lingering residue of your last mentation off, before grabbing your backpack from the backseat, as well as the flashlight you keep in the gloves department, and then, finally, you decidedly turn the engine of. 
In the blink of an eye darkness encompasses the surrounding trees again, while the Camaro’s headlights go to sleep. 
As you close the car door with a heavy thump, Max echoes the sound shortly after with the booming noise of the trunk shutting, too.
“Ready?” You question, as you turn around to face her, and she gives you a brief nod. 
But when you move to lock the car, the headlights of the Camaro suddenly turn themselves back on again. It’s only brief, for a split second maybe, before the darkness of the night creeps back into its rightful place, like nothing happened, like nothing disturbed it at all. 
If you had been all on your own, you might have convinced yourself that you just imagined it, but with Max right there by your side, bearing witness, that’s hardly a possibility. 
Max, however, just shrugs her shoulders as she comes up next to you. 
“Eddie.” She simply states, and you’re not sure if she’s trying to state the name of the culprit or the solution. 
As the two of you step up the curb that gives way to the graveyard, marking the territory like a faint line between the home of the living and the dead, she softly bumps her shoulder into your side. 
“Or, Christine, if you know what I mean.” 
“Max,” You huff again with a small laugh.
She’s really trying to drive that point home, you think. 
“Aren’t you too young to watch horror movies like that anyway?” You tease.
Despite the deep darkness surrounding you two, you can tell that Max is throwing you the most utterly offended look, like you’ve just asked her if she still sleeps with a nightlight and a mobile, or something. 
“I think I should punch you for this.” She mumbles, but there’s no real malice behind her words, just a matter-of-fact kind of dryness that she most definitely picked up from her brother.
This time, it’s your turn to playfully bump your shoulder slightly into her side, as you continue to walk next to each other. 
You both know the way by heart. Eyes closed, eyes tied, in a dream – it doesn’t matter, either of you know the exact path to the grave that holds so much more than a brother, or a lover. 
You continue to walk a little longer in the lingering silence and darkness.
It’s not even that dark once your eyes have become accustomed to the lack of light sources. The flashlight you crammed into the side-pocket of your backpack only really exists for emergencies, like when your zippo won’t work to light the candle at the graveside. 
A few weeks ago, you and Max didn’t even need any additional light sources at all, because the sun wouldn’t set until you were back inside the car. 
But as of late, ever since the days have begun to get colder and shorter, and the sun started to stick around less and less, you found yourself needing some kind of extra illumination at the very least when the two of you are at the graveside. 
The choice to only go with a candle was easy enough. Both you and Max luckily shared the sentiment that anything’s better than the harsh and artificial glow of a flashlight. 
Besides, you’d been lighting candles next to Billy’s headstone even before the nights started to creep in earlier, and earlier, and stay for so much longer, too. 
It also seems more peaceful that way, walking to the grave in the natural darkness, trying not to disturb any of the surrounding sleeping souls buried on the haunting grounds of Hawkins, Indiana.
During your last few trips to visit Billy, the setting sun was at the very least still a loyal companion on your walks to the grave, but today might actually mark the first time that there isn’t even the faintest sliver of orange hovering at the edge of the horizon anymore.
Instead, there’s only a deep indigo blue, similar to the one of the Camaro you now get to call your own. 
“You know,” you break through the quiet song of the last remaining crickets and the low humming of the wind rustling through the trees, whispering sweet nothings to the blushing leaves before carrying them away. 
“When Billy and I initially started dating, one of the first things he told me about you was how much you loved horror movies. He tried not to sound too impressed, but I could tell he was quite proud of that, of you.” 
You feel Max’s wide-eyed gaze on you once more, two big oceans of blue and a wave of disbelief. 
“Really?” She mutters, trying hard not to sound too affected. 
“Yeah, really. Told me how often you’d want to rewatch Halloween. He tried his best to look annoyed, but you could tell he really wasn’t. Not even in the slightest. Max, I know you two used to share a complicated relationship, and he certainly wasn’t the type of guy who’d wear his heart on his sleeve, but he did care a whole lot about you.” 
“I know,” Max mumbles while kicking a few pebbles across the grass, one hand buried in the depth of her pocket, the other one still holding on to the small flower bouquet that you bought earlier during your lunch break. 
Silence takes shape between the two of you once more, safe for the sound of your steps on the mix of fallen leaves, dirt, and gravel. 
But you come to a stop soon after - at a grave whose sight still burns holes in the broken remnants of your heart. 
William Hargrove it states, etched into dark and cold stone, followed by two dates: One that means the whole world to you, and one that pulled the rug from under your feet in the cruelest of ways, leaving you to float in a state of disbelief, anger, and infinite sadness. 
And you still struggle to come down from that, to face the reality of it all, accepting it.   
Leaving you to question what’s the world without Billy in it. Not much, not really. Not when it comes to your world anyway. 
And then, underneath that, the grave’s finishing touches says: Gone, but not forgotten.  
Such an impersonal statement. 
Something that could also be said about the missing neighborhood cat for all you cared. 
But what did you expect from a father like Neil? 
A big ode devoted to how great of a son Billy was? Of course not. 
You almost got into a physical fight with him over Billy’s burial. You had wanted for Billy’s last resting place to be somewhere in California. The place he never stopped calling his home with so much fondness and longing, instead of the town he absolutely despised with every single bone in his body.
You had been willing to take care of it all, to drive him there yourself if you needed to, pay for anything, sell your soul if that’s what it took. But Neil had refused every single plea and offer from your side, and it took both Eddie and Steve to hold you back from, well, escalating that whole situation further. 
But all of this lays behind you now, even if the wound that Billy’s sudden death created continues to feel so tender and raw, like it just happened yesterday, and each time you visit his grave, there’s still a twinge of disbelieve bubbling up inside of you at the sight of the gravestone and everything that lies beneath. 
Billy.
Your Billy.  
“Are you going to-“ Max’s voice pulls you out of your head again. 
“Oh yeah, sorry!” 
You don’t know where your head is today. 
Your heart? No question, six feet under next to Billy. 
Your head? You must have left it somewhere during the car drive to the trailer park because you’re pretty sure you were still doing somewhat fine while working at the newspaper earlier.
Trying hard not to keep Max waiting any longer, you kneel down while getting the new candle from out of your backpack, but before you even get to lighting it, Max speaks up again. 
“How about I get the broom this time, while you finish up here?” She offers and though that idea surprises you, you nod your head. 
“Sure, why not.“ You state, offering her your flashlight, but she just brushes you off.
“It’s fine.“ She says with a little wave before walking in the direction of where some gardening materials are usually hidden underneath a small shelter. You’re not even sure if these things are actually intended for public use or not. But so far no one’s told either of you otherwise. 
The whole routine is based around a weird little habit you two established early on, after your first or second visit to the grave together.
Initially, it was a simple watering can that you would go get from that place at the other side of the graveyard, giving Max the possibility to have some time with her brother by herself. 
There were a few wildflowers blooming near Billy’s gravestone that you two would then water with the can together, before Max would bring it back to its rightful place again, leaving you to have a couple of minutes of alone time with Billy in return.
Now, with summer slipping into autumn, there’s no need for watering flowers anymore. Instead, Max incidentally found a small hand broom in between the other gardening tools a few weeks ago, and her eyes lit up immediately, as a new idea formed in her head.
There‘s a strong pine tree not too far off from Billy’s grave, and occasionally a few needles and debris find their way onto his gravestone. 
But not anymore, because nowadays Max makes a continuous effort to brush them away, with the help of the small broom she’s found, of course.
The first time she decided to do that, it caught you off guard completely, and the tenderness with which she‘d clean the gravestone certainly didn’t help your emotional tumult either; brushing the stone with a care like it could be Billy’s hair. 
“Now you’re all pretty again.” She would mumble to the cold stone once she was completely done, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek hard, to not let out a single sob or tear.
You’d get back in your rhythm after that, with you usually getting the broom, and Max bringing it back again. Occasionally you would switch up these roles, but for the most part they stayed the same, yet you are thankful to get a few minutes alone with Billy first, this time around, for a change.
You really, really need that right now.
“Hi,” you whisper softly, still on your knees while planting your hands securely on the ground, fingers trying to dig their way inside; inside the earth that holds Billy’s remains. 
You don’t notice you’re crying until the image of your hands gets blurry, and a small sob escapes your lips. 
You haven’t cried by his grave in a long time. 
Geez, what is it with you today? You mentally chide yourself, rubbing your eyes in a hurry. You don’t want to worry Max any more than you probably already do, so she really shouldn’t witness you like this.
Get yourself together! You scold underneath your breath, trying to focus on the flickering flames of the candle for a little bit, before turning back fully towards the grave.
To Billy.
“I miss you,” you whisper, like old times, like always. 
“They played our song today on the radio, but I c-couldn’t… It just hurts too much, Billy. It just all hurts too much.” 
Slumping down a little more, your fingers find their way back into wet earth. 
“Billy,” you whisper, “I don’t know how-“ 
The sound of careful steps in the distance makes you pause. 
Max.  
Talking a steading breath, you try to get back in a more dignified position, straightening your back and blinking hot tears away quickly.
By the time she comes to a stop next to you, you hope you look a little more pulled together. 
“Do you want to-“ Max holds the small broom out to you like a peace offering.
“No, no, it’s fine, Max, go ahead.” 
Your eyes cannot bear to witness her gravestone-cleaning-ritual tonight. So, instead, you toy with the zipper of your backpack for a little while before standing up, brushing lingering pieces of earth from your jeans in an effort to seem busy. 
And fine.
You’re absolutely fine. 
“I’ll just bring the old flowers over to the compost.” You state after a heartbeat of silence and nothing to do. “You can put the new ones in the vase if you’d like.” 
Max only nods her head at your words, too absorbed in her own little routine. 
Taking the withering flowers out of the small, sturdy vase you two planted next to the edge of his stone, you walk over to the compost with quick strides. It’s not too far off, and you’re glad you have something to do as a distraction. 
That’s another one of your shared rituals – bringing a fresh bouquet of flowers to Billy’s grave every Friday night, and getting rid of the old one by default, too. It’s the least you can do, in your mind. Because you have to do something for Billy. 
Anything.   
Even if it’s too late now. 
Once you’re back at the grave, Max has finished not only the cleaning of the gravestone, but  also managed to put the new flowers up, too.
They’re a lovely mix of blue and yellow, kind of like sunlight reflecting on the ocean’s surface – at least that’s what they looked like in broad daylight earlier, anyway. Now, their colors are more muted by the surrounding darkness, but you can still guess their shades roughly.
“Looks great, Max.” You quietly praise, and she gives you an appreciating smile. It’s only short and faint, and vanishes quickly, but it’s still a smile. 
You two stand there in silence for a little while longer, gazing at the graveside together.
The glow of the candle bathes its surroundings in a soft and tender golden hue, but it flickers every now and then, like an unsteady heartbeat. You try not to think of Billy at that realization, try not to let that memory of Starcourt Mall overtake your mind.
Max keeps fidgeting with the broom in her hand next to you, and you’re about to ask her if you should take it back to the shelter, when she suddenly speaks up again. 
“Does it ever make you angry?” She asks, and you can’t help but furrow your brows in slight confusion. 
“Does what make me angry, Max?” 
Turning the broom over in her hands once more, she’s quiet for a heartbeat longer, before whispering: “That you can’t tell anyone why he’s gone; why he left. That he died saving-“ 
Her voice breaks slightly, and there are tears back in your eyes. 
“I mean, instead, he’s just one more victim of some stupid fire. L-like he didn’t sacrifice everything. And I can’t even talk to the other’s about it because they don’t understand, not really, not when it comes to Billy. But honestly, I don’t care what it takes, I just want him back!“ 
Your gaze softens at Max’s admission, her outburst, because, hell, if you don’t feel the exact same way. 
“Max, hey,” you quickly soothe, once you realize that her eyes are darting restlessly over the vicinity, her jaw clenched, the hand around the broom tightening.
She’s doing the exact same thing Billy used to do, when he was fighting back tears, trying hard not to let them slip.
Trying hard not to cry.
“Oh, Max.” You whisper, before instinct takes over and you wrap her up into your arms.
It takes her only a split second before she melts into you, a little sob wrecking her body as she hides her face in the crook of your neck.
“Oh, sweetheart,” you mutter, “it’s alright, you can cry. It’s alright, I’ve got you.” 
You don’t immediately notice how much these words sound like the ones you’d usually mumble to Billy in an effort to ease his falls, his pains, his tears in the past. 
You stay like that for a little while, rubbing gentle circles on Max’s back, voice soft and calm, encouraging her to let it all out. 
“I just want him back!” She wails, and the desperate tone of her voice cuts you right through your heart, through your bones, through every fiber of your being. 
“I know,” You whisper, tears openly running down your face as well now. “I do too, I want him back just as much as you do. And there isn’t anything I wouldn’t sacrifice, to get that, but we both know this isn’t possible. There’s nothing any of us can do, to bring him back alive and well.” 
Blinking your tears away once more, you try to steady yourself and your voice, while you continue to hold Max. 
You wonder when the last time was that she let herself cry like that, be held like that. You know she’s been keeping a certain distance from her friends, know that she broke things off with Lucas shortly after the events of Starcourt Mall, know that her family life turned even more chaotic with Billy’s passing.
You know all of these things and yet you found yourself so occupied by your own hurt and grief that the struggles of the little redhead managed to drift out of sight for you, at least for a little while. 
But right now, in this moment, you’re once more reminded of just how much you two have in common when it comes to the loss of Billy, and the significance it carries for the both of you.
To a certain extent, you think you might even have it a little bit easier than her, because you don’t have to reconcile so many different versions of Billy, the way Max undoubtedly has to. 
The way you felt towards Billy has never been particularly divergent, never been exposed to much change, but Max on the other hand… There’s a more intricate relationship there. One with a rocky start and middle at the very least. 
So, reconciling Billy’s death in the context of their history carries a different weight for Max than it does for you. 
Additionally, something that you also slowly realize, as you sway Max gently in your arms, is that she kind of serves as a reflection of Billy for you in many ways. She’s adapted quite a few mannerisms from her older brother; things that make you see him in her, and there’s an odd comfort in that. 
But, you doubt that it’s the other way around as well. That she can see glimpses of Billy in the little things you do, too. 
“Max,” You whisper softly, “I miss your brother dearly, and I know you do, too. I know you’re hurting more than you let on. And I wish I could ease your pains. Wish I could take your hurt and mine and just bury it somewhere together with Billy, but I can’t. I can’t get him back, and I can’t make it better, and I’d be lying if I said I know how to move on, but we do have to try, somehow.
“I know me out of all people saying that you shouldn’t distance yourself from your friends too much, while I do the exact same thing would be hypocritical of me, so I’m not even gonna go there; but Max if you ever want to talk about Billy, not just the good things, but the bad things as well, I’m always here, always.”
“Fuck,” you huff with a quiet laugh, “I usually hate it when people tell me that, so feel free to hit me now, if you want to, but I still stand by these words. And for the record, I’m still incredibly angry at the whole mall-fire-lie. It hurts that even in his death there’s nothing but misconceptions about Billy, I don’t think he deserves that. 
“Max, I understand how much the loss of Billy must affect you, cause it affects me, too. You and I might be the only two people in this god forsaken town, who really knew Billy, so, if you ever want to talk about it, about him, his death, anything; even about how much of a fucking dickhead he could be, I’m always just a phone call away, alright? A phone call and a quick drive of the Camaro is all it takes, Max.“ 
By now, Max’s sobs have eased into quiet sniffles, and she looks up at you with her usual wide-eyed gaze.
“Yeah?” She questions.
“Yeah.” You promise with a reassuring smile. 
“You’re like a little sister to me, always have, always will be.”
Brushing a few loose strands of orange from her face, and wiping away the last remaining tears from her cheeks, you look at her with all the sincerity in your eyes that this world can hold, before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. 
“Okay?” You question softly and Max nods her head in a slow manner.
“I will be.” She whispers. 
And that’s all you can wish for, for the both of you.
The moon has decided to show her face around, too, by now, peeking through a few translucent clouds, painting silver stripes on the ground and the cold graves.
“Do you want me to take the broom back while-“ You offer after a short pause, but Max is quick to interrupt you.
“No, it’s okay, we can do this together and then get back to the car, if that’s alright?”
“Sure thing.” There’s a gentle smile playing on your lips as you watch Max skip ahead a little bit before she���s turning back around towards you. 
“You can always talk to me about Billy, too, you know.” She offers quietly, and you hope that the moonlight doesn’t give away the tears shining in your eyes. 
“I know.” 
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The rest if the walk back to the car turns out to be uneventful, but then again, it usually is. The detour to the shelter takes only a few minutes more, and by the time the two of you are back in the car, you feel a shallow tiredness start to slowly creep up on you. 
Luckily, the trailer park isn’t too far off, and Max also seems in a more chatty mood now, than during the previous ride, so, you have something more to focus on than just the empty road in front of you, and maybe the growing inabilities of your car radio.
“You know,” she suddenly says, “you really should talk to Eddie.” 
“Still convinced this car is Christine 2.0?”
“No. I just- listen, how about a deal?” 
“A deal?”
“Uh-huh. If you’ll talk to Eddie, I’ll talk to Lucas…no, wait! I’ll talk to Dustin; that would make more sense, right? Since Eddie is to you what Dustin is to me?”
“Max, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, you know.”
You do in fact kind of know. There’s a small inkling about what she’s trying to say, even if you don’t like where she’s getting at. 
“And why should I talk to Eddie?” 
“ Be-cause. Also, I think you two might need it, and maybe he’ll finally stop asking about you constantly. Besides, you did say I shouldn’t distance myself too much from my friends, and neither should you, so…”
“Max…”
“I’m just throwing ideas out there, alright. I mean, shouldn’t you as a big sister set a good example at least?”
“You’re seriously going to use all of my own words against me right now, huh?”
There’s no real malice in your voice, just a hint of surprise and dare you say, a little amusement. 
Max really is as sly as her big brother. 
“Fine,” you mumble, “but you better keep up your end of the bargain and talk to Dustin, too.”
“Deal.” Max promises, as she holds her hand out to you. Such a Dustin-move, you think, or maybe even Steve’s, but you probably do well not to mention it. 
“Deal.” You echo, before slapping Max’s outstretched hand and she smiles. 
And as you turn away to set the indicator, you notice that you’re smiling, too.
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You two turn up at the trailer park shortly after, and by now, the night has truly settled in.
Some of the trailers are left completely in the dark, while others illuminate the glumly surroundings through their rectangular windows and makeshift porch lights. 
You don’t immediately notice Eddie sitting on the steps of his trailer at first. He, on the other hand, notices you straightaway. 
You’re hard to miss with the Camaro, though.
“Alright, here we are.” You mumble after turning off the ignition and Max leaps out of the car quickly.
You watch her walk up to Eddie, who in return is making his way over to you, and you quietly sigh. 
Please don’t make me regret this, Max, you think. 
Please don’t make me regret this.  
Once you step out of the car, you roughly hear Max say something about the state of your radio, and you watch the way Eddie nods his head deep in thought before his gaze shifts, and his eyes suddenly find yours. 
Oh, you’re going to regret this, you think.
But there’s no way out, and Max, that little shit, fakes an exaggerated yawn. 
“Huh? I’m really tired, I better get to bed now.” 
You can tell that she struggles to say these words with a straight face, trying her very best to cover the pleased smile that threatens to spill out. She even has the audacity to do an overzealous stretch, trying hard to drive her look-at-me-I’m-so-sleepy point home. 
Smug little shit, you think, as you watch her hop up the steps to her trailer, opening the door swiftly. 
She calls your name one last time, thanking you with a small, yet sincere smile, before calling out to the both of you: “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” 
By now, she has almost vanished behind the door, but not before giving you a little, hidden thumbs up. 
Pointing over to Eddie she mouths, “Be careful with the car!” or something of that sort. You’re too far away, to really be able to tell, so you wouldn’t bet your life on it. 
And then with a low rumble, the door falls shut behind her.
For a moment, you find yourself dumbfounded at the redhead’s behavior, but before you can dwell on it for too long, the sound of crunching steps pulls you out of your thoughts again.
Eddie.  
“Hey.” He sounds slightly out of breath, timid even, like he’s worried you might run off if he speaks too loudly. 
“Hey.” You echo, because you don’t know what else to say.
“Max told me that your radio is acting funny again.” 
You almost let a sigh of relief slip past your lips at the realization that Eddie decided to skip the whole how-are-you-doing-and-holding-up part of the conversation. 
Guess he still knows you better than you thought.
“Yeah,” you mumble, eyes darting over the ground like it might hold the world’s secrets, or maybe just an escape plan for you to get out of this conversation. 
Unfortunately, it features neither; nothing but dimly lit gravel, dirt, old cigarette buds, and dried, fallen leaves. 
There’s not even a hole that opens up to swallow you whole. 
Seems like you’re completely out of luck today, you think, resignation settling heavy in your heart. 
It’s just a conversation, you try to tell yourself. 
Just a simple conversation with an old friend.
But when you look back up at Eddie, his big brown eyes are immediately too kind, too understanding, too much for you to bear at once.
“Uhm, yeah, the radio has been acting off again, but, it’s fine, really, don’t worry about it.” 
Your words come out jumbled, like they all tried to leave the captivity of your mouth as fast as they could, tumbling over each other in the process. 
But Eddie just gives you a look that seems to say: It’s not the radio I’m worried about.  
And you can’t take it. 
You can take the pitiful glances from the unfamiliar and whispering women at Melvald’s. You can take the talking, the stares, the fingers pointing in your direction, when they think they’re being real smooth, but you cannot take it from your friends. 
The strangers? Yes. 
Your once-upon-a-time best friend? Not so much.
“Max said, you’ve been fucking with the car.”
You’re not sure what in god’s name possessed you to blur that out, but Eddie looks at you like his eyes might pop out of his skull.
“What?!” 
“Max said, she thinks you might have been fucking with the car.” You repeat, as if it’s the words that Eddie didn’t quite catch right the first time around. 
“I-I know, you didn’t, obviously, but she also said that you’ve been asking about me and-”
“Yeah, no shit, genius,” Eddie huffs, slight amusement illuminating his features, “how else am I supposed to find out about your well-being, when you’ve been dropping from the face of the earth.” 
You’re grateful for the things he doesn’t say. The accusations he very well could throw your way. Like how you haven’t returned any of his phone calls over the last few weeks for example. 
“And for the record, I didn’t fuck with the Camaro. Though, I do have to admit, I’m slightly baffled that Max would even consider me capable of that, I don’t know if I should feel flattered or concerned.” 
“Bit of both, maybe.” 
The small smiles you and Eddie exchange feel entirely foreign, yet at the same time oddly familiar.
This is wrong, a voice in your head proclaims, you have no right to be doing that. No reason to feel even a little bit cheery.
But now that Eddie managed to crack the surface of your aloof exterior, he’s going to seep into the protective walls of withdrawal and detachment you’ve built around yourself in the span of the last few months. Coaxing his way in, trying to pull you out.
You know it, and maybe, he knows it, too. 
There’s a tug and pull war inside your brain. A damsel in distress, wanting to be saved, and a dragon that spits angry flames at anyone that comes too near. And the way that Eddie is able to put you at ease is entirely too close. 
He’s going to get hurt, or you are, a voice inside of you warns. 
You’re not ready yet. You’re still mourning, still struggling, still walking around with half a beating heart, the other, better half, lifelessly buried somewhere in Hawkins. Gone, but not forgotten.  
You shouldn’t be happy yet. Shouldn’t exchange smiles with a friend you once held dear. 
You’re doing a disservice to Billy, an ugly voice chides, and you feel your smile slipping. 
You’re doing a disservice to Billy.  
The smile on your face is gone for good.
“Do you want me to look at the car radio?” Eddie offers after another heartbeat of silence, haunted by the sudden inability to read your face. 
The walls are up again, and there’s a strong defense sitting in the highest towers of your broken mind.
He can’t reach you anymore.
You can’t let him reach you anymore. 
“It’s fine, Eds.” 
The nickname slips past your lips like ice cream on a hot summer’s day. Like the earnest laughs you used to share. Natural, and warm, and- 
But that was at a moment in time when Billy was still around.
“It’s fine, you don’t need to do that, Eddie. You’ve already inspected it three times, I can’t ask you to do that again.”
“You don’t have to ask, I’m offering. I don’t mind checking it out once more.”
Maybe there’s simply nothing to check out, maybe the car just hates me, you think. 
Maybe Max’s Christine fever dream of an idea isn’t too far off at all. 
Maybe you’re just going a little crazy.
Maybe there’s nothing to fix. 
Broken beyond repair. 
Yet your friends keep trying anyway.
The unwelcomed silence has decided to crawl out of the car, taking heavy steps towards you, pushing itself between you and Eddie. Taking the words out of your mouth, your brain, and filling it with cotton. 
Until you can’t breathe. 
You wonder if Eddie can feel its presence, too, as you watch him shuffle his feet uncomfortably. Trying to come up for words, like air, but the current of silence renders you both immobile before pulling you under again. 
You’re drowning at the offshore trailer park of Hawkins, Indiana, in a cobalt blue night, and a silence so heavy, the surrounding trees might start to buckle and break at any given moment under its weight.
“You know, I, uhm-“ Eddie starts, helpless. Like he’s putting one hand up as an imploring sign, before vanishing under the waves again. 
But you’re out in the open, too, incapable of throwing him any kind of lifeline.
“I, uh, I’ve made you the tape.”
“What?”
Is there water in your ears? Or cotton? You don’t think you’ve heard him right.
“The song that you talked about that night, I managed to get my hands on it, and I thought-“
Your mouth feels too dry, but now it’s for an entirely different reason. 
“Eddie-“
“I know, I know, I promised to never bring that night up again, but I thought, maybe you still crave that song and-“ 
You only now notice the small, rectangular object in Eddie’s hands that he keeps fiddling with. 
Turning it over, and under, and over again.
Like flotsam in a current.
“If you don’t want it, it’s fine. I just thought that maybe, I don’t know, it might help? Listen, I know it’s probably silly, and maybe you don’t want to hear that song at all anymore but-“
“No, I do!” 
Your hand reaches out towards Eddie before withdrawing again halfway.
“I do. I still miss that song.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” You breathe. 
He still cares, you realize. 
He still cares, deeply. 
Why else would he remember the things you drunkenly told him during that one night, a few days after Billy’s funeral, when he’d found you out of your mind inebriated at the quarry. 
That was months ago. 
Months. 
You wonder if his attempts to reach out had been partially about this, all this time.
How long has he been trying to give this tape, and how long have you kept him, like everyone else, on more than a little arm's length? 
The remnants of your heart do an uncomfortable twist sparked by a wave of guilt.
“Eddie, I don’t know what to-“
“You don’t have to say anything. Just take it, and maybe it can help you a little; cheer you up a little.” 
With the uttermost tender care, you take the mixtape that your friend is holding out to you. 
Your fingers brush against each other, slightly, softly, yet it sparks a feeling that travels through you like lightning moving through a single tree. Cutting it open, setting it ablaze, painting its body in flames and ash down to its very roots. 
Maybe, you think, it’s not just Max that needs a good hug. 
If Eddie notices the turmoil taking place inside of you, he doesn’t show, doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t seem to be affected in the ways that you are. 
“So, about your car radio-” He starts, once you’ve securely stored the tape in the biggest pocket of your leather jacket. 
Billy’s leather jacket. 
You’re about to brush him off again, but Eddie just lifts his hand in a gesture to continue speaking. 
“Let me inspect it just once more. Maybe there’s something wrong with the wiring that I didn’t catch before, for some reason. I’ll look at it first thing in the morning, I promise, and in the meantime I can drive you home instead.” 
“Eddie, I appreciate your offer, but I don’t think this is going to work. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I-”
“Shit, that’s the day you usually join Chrissy in her visits to Heather in the hospital, right?” 
“Right.” You nod your head slowly, while Eddie lets out a pensive sigh. 
Silence takes over the space between the two of you again, and you shift your gaze towards the distant woods, watching the way the wind moves swiftly through the branches of a couple of trees, leaving their dark silhouettes shivering and shaking. 
Once your eyes dart back to Eddie, you expect him to look somewhat crestfallen, but instead there’s a tiny, mischievous smile playing on the edges of his lips.
“I have an idea,” He proposes, the small smile on his lips growing, “I would have to check in with the headquarters office of Eddie’s Mechanic Enterprise, but I’m pretty sure we offer an additional shuttle service for our very best customers.” 
"Shuttle service?" You question, lips tugging upwards as your friend’s smile proves itself to be of the contagious kind once again. 
“Yeah...” Eddie shifts his feet slightly, one hand coming up to rub a hidden spot on his neck, “I need to run some errands for my uncle tomorrow at Melvald’s, meaning I’d already be in your neighborhood at some point.” 
“So, you’re shuttling me and-” 
“A carton of eggs, yes.” 
“Well, in that case, that company seems hard to top.” 
“Is that a yes?” Eddie asks, trying hard to curb the excitement bubbling up inside of him. 
“If you and your eggs can make it to my place before 10 o’clock, say, a quarter to 10, maybe?” 
“A quarter to 10, confirmed and noted, ma’am.” Eddie states with a small salute, and this time you really cannot help the soft giggle from slipping out.
It’s a warm and gentle sound, one that Eddie hasn’t witnessed in quite a while, and it fills and nourishes a spot in his chest that has been starved for way too long. 
“I’ll try to have the Camaro looked over and finished by then, but I’m not entirely sure…” 
“Eds, it’s fine. I’m sure Chrissy can drop me off after the visit, and if not, I’ll be sure to call Eddie’s Mechanic Enterprise from one of the hospital pay phones. In any case, you can bring the Camaro over throughout the day, whenever.” 
“Okay,” Eddie sighs, clearly relieved, as you suppress the urge to reach out and give his shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze. 
“Listen, I’m pretty sure that car radio is beyond salvation, so don't stress about finding a cure too much. Besides, this is Hawkins we’re speaking of, so, the radio signals are kind of shit either way.” 
“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever had issues with my radio signals.” 
“Interesting, and how many times do you, Eddie Munson, listen to the radio again?” 
“Fair enough.” Your friend huffs with a quiet laugh, before taking a few steps back, stretching one of his arms out in a wide gesture.
“Your carriage awaits you, m’lady.” 
“Thank you,” you whisper, suddenly overwhelmed by Eddie’s determined kindness and effort to make you feel at ease. 
But Eddie just brushes you off with a quick movement of his hand, as if to say don’t mention it. 
As you two walk up to his van, you can’t help but turn around once more, glancing back at Max's trailer. For a brief moment, you think you see one of the curtains move swiftly, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
Little red haired devil, you think. You’re still not sure what exactly she’s up to, but you’re certain you’ll find out eventually. 
By the time you turn around again, Eddie’s already waiting by his car, holding the passenger side open for you. 
This, you notice once more with a sudden shred of wariness, feels entirely too familiar.
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Eddie’s van looks and feels the same way it always does. Slightly chaotic, a little dusty, and the smell of weed is, well, rather present to say the least. 
It’s a little odd being back in that space, but not entirely uncomfortable, and Eddie is quick to turn the radio on, filling the lingering silence with a more pleasant background noise.
For a brief moment, you wonder why on earth he’d do that voluntarily, especially considering that he has about a million metal tapes scattered around this place, before it hits you. 
He’s deliberately not playing his metal tapes because of Billy. Because if there’s one thing he and Billy used to have in common, apart from sharing a certain fondness for the devils lettuce, it’s their love for metal music. And while Billy steered more towards glam-metal and Eddie preferred the trashy kind, they still would rock out together to Metallica and W.A.S.P. and KIX. 
You all would.
And you can’t help but think that the only reason Eddie’s currently putting up with the seemingly endless horror that’s commercially popular and radio suitable music, is out of a deep consideration for you. 
Because he doesn’t want to trigger you. Doesn’t want to bring up any kind of painful memories of you and Billy and maybe Eddie in some way or another. 
There’s Eddie Rabbitt coming from his speakers now, for crying out loud. There’s no way he’d listen to that on his own accord, and yet, he’s putting up with it, for you.
Staring deliberately out of the window to your right, you wipe your eyes quickly, anxious that Eddie might see. You don’t know where all of these tears are coming from today, but they sure love showing up. 
The drive to your place continues for a little bit in silence before Eddie, your Eddie, not the singer currently proclaiming his love for rainy nights on the radio, decides to speak up.
“You know, I miss you, I mean, we all do, obviously, the campaigns aren’t the same without you, and-“
You watch Eddie take a steading breath, as his hands tighten around the steering wheel. 
“I know that losing Billy must be incredibly difficult for you, and I won’t even try to pretend to know what that’s like, but he was my friend too, you know. A-and I’m not saying this in an effort to downplay your pain in any way. I’m saying this as a reminder that you’re not alone in this. That you and Max aren’t the only ones missing him, and also because I.. I don’t want to lose you too, okay?” 
There’s another heartbeat of silence before Eddie whispers: “I’ve already lost one good friend, and I don’t want to lose another. I understand that you need your space, but please don’t be a stranger. Please, don’t turn into one.“
The ticking sound of the indicator and the low whispers of music are the only two things that fill the heavy silence that follows, and you have to wipe your eyes again. 
“I’m sorry.” You mumble, voice incredibly soft and timid, “I didn’t mean to lock you out, it’s just…” 
A sniffle breaks through your words, through the silence, through the entirety of Eddie’s heart. 
“I think when Billy died, something inside of me broke, something significant, and I don’t think I can fix it. I don’t know how to fix this, Eddie-“
This time, it’s a sob that cuts you off in your own speech, and you don’t even try to hide the tears running down your face anymore.
There’s no way you could, because there are way too many now.
“I’ve only ever imagined a future with Billy by my side, and now that he’s gone, I don’t know how to move forward.” You admit quietly.
“It feels like his death created a chasm between me and the rest of the world. And I can still see it somewhere in the distance, see everyone else moving on, right there on the other side, but I can’t find a way to join them for the life of me.” 
It takes everything in Eddie not to stop the car, not to unbuckle your seatbelt and engulf you in his arms, in the biggest hug of the universe.
But he’s not sure you’d appreciate that; not sure if he’s crossing ten lines in one breath by doing so. 
So, instead, he slows the car on the otherwise empty road down a bit, before leaning over to you slightly, taking your hand securely in his. 
“But I’m right here, sweetheart,” He whispers, big brown eyes finding yours, “there’s not a chasm between us right now, is there?
"I understand that it might feel this way, especially when you’re all on your own, but I’m right here, and so is everyone else, too. Nobody expects you to continue on with your life like nothing happened, but you’ve been so hard to reach lately, I’m worried that one day you’ll slip away completely, and I don’t want to lose you, too.” 
There are tears swimming in Eddie’s eyes, mirroring yours. 
There’s a heavy understanding in his heart, mirroring yours. 
Maybe, you think, you really aren’t quite as alone in this.
“I just,” you try to think of a way to phrase this, unsure of where to start, and where to stop. 
“I just miss him so much.”
“I know.”
“And I thought, I think, I don’t know, I guess I’m just not that easy to be around these days.” 
“You don’t need to be, sweetheart.” 
“You don’t understand, Eddie. I’m hardly fun anymore. I start crying out of nowhere at the most random times, and I still feel so much anger, so much hurt, that on some days I think that’s all that I’m made of, a-and I feel like I’m doing a disservice to Billy by-“
“By letting yourself be happy? By putting yourself in situations you know you might enjoy, even if it’s just a tiny little bit? By starving yourself of the company of your friends, because you fear you might be too much of a bummer, a burden, or you could find yourself enjoying something despite Billy’s absence?”
Eddie questions carefully, and though you hate to admit it, he’s hitting the nail right on the head, finishing the sentence forming in your heart perfectly.
Putting words around an otherwise almost unexplainable thing. A fear. A worry. A dark shape in the back of your mind, with a murky voice to match its exteriors.
He’s describing exactly what you’re worried about.
“Yeah,” you whisper, voice stunned and eyes wide, “yeah, that’s, that’s it.” 
And Eddie’s eyes are nothing but gentle and understanding when he glances back over at you, but this time around, they don’t feel too kind, they just feel earnest.
“Well, in that case, let me tell you that I’d rather spend time with you, even when you’re in some dark mood, than not having your presence around me at all. You can show up in any state that you find yourself in, I promise, I can take it.
“When I said, I’m here to help, I really, truly, meant it. Taking care of one another is a fundamental part of friendships, and you're one of my closest ones, so please, let me at least try to help. Don’t push me out completely.” 
You sniffle again, searching your pockets for a tissue or something to wipe your nose with, but you come up completely empty. 
“The glove department.” Eddie suggests out of nowhere, and you can’t help but let out a tiny, timid laugh. 
There’s a small pack of kleenex hidden inside of it, and you gratefully take one.
“Thank you,” you mumble, and you hope that Eddie knows you’re not just talking about the paper tissue clenched in your hand.
“You’re very welcome.” Eddie answers with a small smile, and when your eyes meet, you know he understood the implications of your words, too.
“I’m sorry about distancing myself so much, and-“
“You don’t need to apologize for grieving, just let me at least try to catch up with you sometimes? Maybe don’t lock the door completely?”
“I’ll try.” You whisper. 
You promise. 
“And about Billy.” Eddie starts carefully, because there’s something that needs to be said, even if you don’t want to hear it.
“Do you really think Billy wants you to suffer for the rest of your life without him? I know you feel a lot of guilt about his death, but you’re punishing yourself in the cruelest of ways, by-“
“It’s not that I don’t want to be happy, Eddie.” You interrupt him quietly.
“It’s that I don’t deserve it. Not after everything that happened. Not after the way I’ve let him down. I have to make it up to him somehow-“
“And you think you’re making it up to him by, what, stop trying to live a happy life?”
“I don’t know,” you whisper, because, truly, you don’t. “But it feels wrong to… to just move on without him.”
Eddie knows there isn’t anything he can say to convince you otherwise, and if he’s really honest, he kind of gets it. If he imagines losing you in such a way, he would struggle with an endless amount of guilt and an inability to move on from that, too. 
But what happened still isn’t your fault, yet you’ve put such a heavy burden on yourself, one that no human soul can possibly bear or carry. To his despair, Eddie doesn’t know how to make you take that off. How to find a space big and strong enough for you to put that, lay it down to rest.
“If it was Billy who survived,” Eddie tries, since he knows there’s no other way to reach you, “would you want him to suffer, too?”
“Of course not,” you huff, “but it wasn’t Billy who survived, now was it?”
There’s a bitterness in your voice as you cross your arms defensively over your chest, and Eddie feels you slipping away from him again, away, and into the steady silence and darkness of the car. 
He’s almost by your house now, and he feels the dire need to turn this around somehow.
“I get it,” he finally whispers, “If it was the person I loved, I would feel like this, too. But that doesn’t make it right, doesn’t make that narrative true. What happened wasn’t your fault, and punishing yourself like it is, isn’t going to add anything other than additional suffering on yourself. It’s not going to bring Billy back, and I very much doubt that he’d want that for you either.”
“But it’s not about what he wants, or you want, or I want!” You say, voice desperate and rising in volume.
“It’s about the fact that I don’t deserve to move on without him; besides, there’s nowhere to move on to anymore. There’s no way I should be happy when the better half of my heart is lying six feet underground in some cheap ass casket with a ribbon on it. 
“And I still wake up every night reaching for him, only to find his side of the bed empty and cold. And every time the world comes back crashing down on me again, every. single. fucking. night. And I take it, because, maybe, that's simply what I deserve! He’s been through so much, and it’s all my fault!
“I keep seeing him in everything I do, yet it’s completely pointless because he isn’t there by my side anymore. And he never will be. I will never be able to hear his voice again, never be able to hear his laugh. Never feel the comfort of his presence ever again, because he died!
“He died saving a town he hated and yet nobody cares. And I can’t even leave this shithole of a place because I made a promise to him months before his death, that if anything ever happens to him, I would look out for his little sister! So I’m stuck here just like his fucking body is! 
“And how am I even supposed to move on, when all of my dreams, all of the plans I had for the future involved Billy in some way. He was the one constant in my life, the only constant in my life that truly mattered more than anything else in this world. Just for it now to feel like the light of my life, the sun I’ve been revolving everything around has gone out, and I’m left all alone, spinning out helplessly on a cold and dying planet. 
“It’s fucking hard to move on, when there’s nowhere to move on to, because I simply cannot imagine a future without Billy in it. And there’s no way to soothe the hurt, or to fill the emptiness that his absence has created, since there’s no way for me to get him back ever again!“
You’re full on crying now, and after having sobbed so much throughout the latter part of your admission, you didn’t even notice that Eddie already parked the car and unbuckled your seatbelt.
You only notice it once you’re done, all the words having left your mouth, energy completely drained, when suddenly two arms wrap themselves around you, lifting you up, over the center console - and into Eddie’s lap. 
You slump against him immediately, heavy sobs still wrecking your body, while your best friend, the one you shared your very first kiss in middle school with, the one who has seen you cry a thousand times before, quietly whispers soothing words to you. 
“Shh, just let it out. Let it all out, it’s okay, I’ve got you. You can let it all out, love.”
His touch, much like his words, feels incredibly comforting. His arms are wrapped securely around you, keeping you close, one hand brushing that tender spot at the back of your neck in soothing strokes.
He stays true to his words, takes all the vulnerability and hurt that flows out of you in cries and tears, witnesses you breaking down completely, yet he never falters in his mission to gently guide you through it all. 
Like a storm that you’re both trapped in. But his comfort, his presence, soothes the severity of the rain pouring down, lessens the strength of the howling wind, until the hurricane quiets down, and your cries, like clouds, start getting smaller. 
Letting go like this, crying unrestrained in his arms, feels not as hopeless and heavy as it usually does when you’re doing it all alone in the darkness and isolation of your bedroom. And suddenly, you feel compelled to admit something you’ve never told anybody.
“It’s my fault, Eddie. It’s all my fault.” You whisper, but Eddie brushes you off gently.
“Shh, no it isn’t, sweetheart. The only one responsible is the mindflayer, remember?” 
“No, Eddie, you don’t understand, I could have saved him, I could have-” 
Eddie furrows his brows in confusion. He doesn’t know the events that happened at Starcourt Mall that night to a T, since he wasn’t there during them, but he’s pretty sure that there’s hardly anything you could have done to save Billy. 
From the things he’s been told, you arrived there when it was already too late. When Billy already decided to stand up to that monster all by himself. 
You had just come back from the airport, fresh out of California, confused and incredibly concerned because Billy hadn’t responded to any of your calls while you were away. 
When you finally made it back to Hawkins, you found yourself rushing to the Mall, just to watch the love of your life fight a monster with his bare hands, trying his hardest to hold it back, to stop it, but to no avail.
And despite the fact that you ran up to him immediately, you still had to watch him get impaled and killed by that interdimensional monster. 
And by the time you made it to Billy’s side, the only thing you could do was to hold his dying body close in your arms, while he took his last, uneven breaths, and you whispered your final I love you’s.  
Weeks later, when Steve came over to pick up a few things to help ease his own nightmares, he told Eddie in secret that he doesn’t remember much from that night, but one of the things that had etched itself into his brain were your fierce cries.
He said he heard you scream Billy’s name that night so loudly, so full of utter desperation and horror, he was sure your cries could be heard all over the town of Hawkins.
But your horrors didn’t just end there that godless night at the mall. Because when help finally arrived, you refused to acknowledge the first aid responders, as they told you that Billy was dead and gone or good.
You refused to budge, refused to let Billy go, refused to watch him be put into some cold, plastic body bag. 
They needed four grown men in order to get you off and away from Billy’s body, and no matter how much they tried to calm you down, you still wouldn’t stop fighting back, not until someone finally infused you with some tranquilizer, but even while drifting into unconsciousness, you continued to whimper Billy’s name in quiet pleas.
That night, under a starless sky in the town of Hawkins, Indiana, you lost the love of your life, and you knew, you would never be the same again. 
There’s no such thing as recovery when you lose the most vital part, your heart, in such a gruesome way. 
But there’s another reason for the immense guilt you feel. 
The knowledge that you could have prevented it. 
And it’s time for you to share that part. 
You talk one last steading breath, hoping that your voice won’t sound as shaky as you feel.
“Before I went to Cali, to meet with that administrator from UCLA, we had initially decided that I would fly out there all by myself, but two days before my departure, Billy told me that he wanted to join in on the trip and come with me instead.” 
Eddie feels your frame trembling slightly, your hands digging into his shirt in an effort to hold on to something. 
“But I told him no.” You wail, sobs rumbling through you like thunder. Tears streaming down like hail. Each and every single one punching holes in Eddie's heart.
“I told him no; That that was silly, that I’d be fine on my own, and that I would be gone for hardly a week anyway. I told him that booking a flight so last minute would be way too expensive, and that we could use that money a lot more for our first rent payment, because, you know, we wanted to move into that small apartment right by the sea once uni starts-“ 
Eddie is stunned. He’s frozen. He doesn’t know what to do, because he had no idea.
Sure, he knew about yours and Billy’s plan to move to California once the summer break came to an end. But you have never, ever told him that story, and he doubts that you’ve shared it with anyone else either, judging by how hard it is for you to recall any of these details.
“Even when he dropped me off at the airport, he still joked about sneaking in and getting his own ticket at the desk. He said that there was still time, that I only had to say the words and we’d board that stupid plane together… but I didn’t.
"I just laughed and kissed him goodbye, and told him to stop being such a sap; that I would be back in no time, and in only a couple of weeks we would both soak in the Californian sun till the end of our days, and never have to hear the word Hawkins again.
"But if I had listened to him; if I’d taken him with me, he would still be around!”
Your voice, now utterly hoarse from crying, might haunt Eddie for a lifetime or two.
He’s at a loss of words, because what really is there to say? 
Of course, what happened isn’t your fault, you didn’t know. You couldn’t have predicted that this moment with Billy at the airport would end up being the last time you sincerely saw him smile, and yet, Eddie understands now, why Billy’s death feels even more like a burden on the tender shoulders of your soul. 
How you didn’t just lose the love of your life, but feel utterly responsible for it, too. 
“I could have saved him, I could have prevented his death, if I only had let him buy his stupid plane ticket.” 
The regret in your voice is almost palatable, dripping from your slumped frame like the tears from your eyes. 
“If I hadn’t said: No, Billy. Money’s tight, Billy. Being away from me for a few days won’t kill you, Billy... If it wasn’t for me, he’d still be here. ” 
Well, shit, Eddie thinks, hindsight really is one brutal tool. 
Are there any words, in this universe, that could take some of the burden off your shoulders? Something to ease your guilt and the blame you clearly feel? Eddie doesn’t think that there are.
All the words he thinks about saying just sound hollow and dull. 
He can repeat the phrase, this isn’t your fault, a million times; he’s sure you still wouldn’t believe him. 
But at the very least, he has to try. 
“I didn’t know,” Eddie whispers, wiping a few stray tears from your cheeks, “I didn’t know that that happened.” 
You sniffle, eyes darting everywhere, but the face of your close friend. 
“I’ve never-” 
You can’t even finish the sentence, and Eddie feels his heart do an incredibly uncomfortable twist, as he hears his assumption be called true.
You’ve been dragging that secret around like a dead horse; and that’s on top of all the other shit that’s been thrown your way. 
“Please don’t tell the others,” you whisper, and the desperation and worry in your voice is hard to miss. Like you almost expect Eddie to start blaming you, too.
“It’s okay, I won’t tell, I promise.” He pledges, “but what happened still isn’t your fault. I know, it’s probably impossible to change your mind right now, but it really wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know. If you did, things might have gone differently, that’s true, but you didn’t know.
"You didn’t know that in your absence, Billy would find himself getting possessed and taken over by the Mind Flayer. You didn’t know. You can’t blame yourself for something you had no clue would happen.” 
Your sniffles have now quieted down to something that doesn’t feel like bullets through Eddie’s heart, but the way you curl up into him still tugs on something tender deep inside of him. 
It’s like you’ve turned shy all of a sudden, worried about what Eddie might think of you, now that you’ve shared that heavy secret. But Eddie doesn’t see you in a different light, and he’s determined to reassure you that, too.
“I really mean it, when I say that what happened to Billy isn’t your fault. Looking back at the past with the knowledge you have now, is always going to leave you wondering why you picked one choice rather than another.
"And you’ll drive yourself mad, if you judge all of your life’s choices that way. You didn’t know. And punishing yourself for a decision you made in nothing but good faith, wondering what could have happened if you didn’t, sweetheart, that’s just no way to live.”
Tentatively moving your face out of your hiding spot that’s Eddie’s neck, you look up at him with careful eyes.
“You think so?”
Eddie just nods his head with a deep hum.
“If you had taken Billy with you, you don’t know what could have happened. He could have died there, too, you know? And then you’d wish that you’d left him in Hawkins instead. It’s a vicious cycle of what was and what could have been,but, ultimately, we don’t know, and we never will. 
"All you did in that moment at the airport was make a sensible decision based on all of the information you had at that time. Judging it by anything else is doing a disservice to you and your intentions. You just tried to do good, to look out for you and Billy, with your shared future in mind.” 
“So, you don’t think I’m -“
Despicable, a murderer, a horrible person, responsible for Billy’s death, the voice in your head finishes.
“I don’t think you’re a bad person at all, sweetheart.” Eddie whispers, knowing what you’re thinking without saying it, while wiping the last few tears from the apples of your cheeks. 
“And you’re not just telling me this because you are my friend?” You sniffle, voice and mind still a little unsure.
“I’m telling you this because it is true.” 
The sincerity and earnestness of Eddie’s words are hard to miss, hard to ignore, hard not to let seep into your heart at least a little bit. 
You stay intertwined like that for a while, until your breaths have evened out, and the last tears on your skin have dried down. 
They’re back in your eyes for a moment, when you notice the dark mascara stains you’ve left on Eddie’s Hellfire t-shirt, and something inside of you starts to panic, but your best friend is quick to shush you again, calming you down with gentle words. 
“It’s just a shirt, sweetheart. Just tears and mascara stains on a shirt, don’t worry about it.”
“You sure?” You mumble, and Eddie nods his head enthusiastically. 
“Nothing a washing machine can’t fix.” 
Still not completely convinced, you try to rub some of it away, but only with little success.
Letting out a defeated sigh, you decide to curl up into your friend a bit more, enjoying a closeness you haven’t experienced in a while. 
And Eddie lets you, not just because you clearly need it, but because he does, too.
He missed this, missed you, and despite your promise to try and be around more, he’s worried that by tomorrow, you will have receded back into your reclusive ways. 
Time moves through the space of the van in the form of the quiet music coming from the radio. Currently it’s some cheesy 70s ballad that neither of you pay too much attention to.
You’re both deep in thought, only grounded by the touch of the other. 
Eddie has a few more words sitting heavy on the tip of tongue, waiting for him to open his mouth and finally tumble out.
There’s no such thing as the right moment in a space like this, he thinks, and so, after another beat of slow moving music, flowing like syrup all around him, he whispers: “Do you trust me?”
If his words confuse you, or catch you by surprise, you don’t show. Instead, you just look up at him with honest eyes.
“Yes.” You whisper, and there’s not an ounce of a question stained in your voice, or written on your face. 
“Of course, I do.”
“Then please trust me when I say that there’s a future for you, even if you can’t quite see it yet. And you’re allowed to move towards it, even if it still seems gloomy, or unattainable right now. The things that happened that night at Starcourt Mall should have never happened, but none of it was your fault. None of it, okay?”
He’s holding your face in both of his hands now, cradling it gently, silently hoping, begging, crying to the gods above, that at least a fraction of what he’s said will take root in your heart. 
“Okay.” You whisper, overwhelmed by the deep sincerity in each and every single fragment of Eddie. His eyes, his voice, the gentle brush of his fingertips.
“Good.” 
He leans in, leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead, but before either of you can dwell on the meaning of that too much, a sudden noise of static cuts right through the moment, making the both of you jump. 
Catching you off guard and slightly startled. 
“What the-” Eddie mumbles while leaning forward to change the station, but the frown on his face only deepens when the radio won’t budge at all. 
“So much for a perfect radio reception, huh?” You can’t help the tiny dig, and Eddie scoffs, though there’s a small smile growing on his face. 
“I swear, this has never happened before.” 
“Uh-huh, and you don’t think that this might be explained by the fact that you usually never listen to the radio?” 
“You know, I might be inclined to believe your theory, if it was just the radio signal that’s going off, but the whole thing is acting strange. I can’t even-” 
In an attempt to demonstrate to you that he isn’t even able to change stations, Eddie forcefully turns the button- only for it to work perfectly this time.
But for some odd reason, all the other channels seem to consist of nothing but pure static, too. 
“Okay, that’s weird.” You whisper, trying to ignore the small chill that’s started to run down your back, as you realize how familiar this situation feels. 
You’re about to tell Eddie to just turn the radio completely off, when he finally finds a channel that is not just static upon static noise.
“Hah!” He exclaims, quite pleased with himself, though that sentiment turns out to be rather short-lived. 
“Still weird.” You mumble, while Eddie continues to toy with the volume button this time, and it makes you listen to the song more intently. 
It’s Take my breath away , of all things. Not quite the song you’d pick for a Friday night, sitting in your best friend's van, still perched upon his lap. 
“Through the hourglass, I saw you. 
In time, you slipped away.” 
Terri Nunn sings, and you’re about to ask Eddie if he can just turn this whole thing off, when the song, completely out of nowhere, starts to change its pitch. 
“Take my breath away,” rattles through the speakers, only now it resonates both slower and lower, kind of like a vinyl record being played at the wrong speed, giving the singer a much deeper voice.
The song suddenly sounds a lot more sinister and a lot less romantic, and though you don’t mind the latter, the way the song is now being played hardly counts as an improvement in your books.
“Uhm, Eddie, what exactly are you doing?” You question, as you watch your friend continue to tinker with the electronic device. 
“I don’t know.” He mumbles, voice slightly muffled because he’s bent over quite a bit, and you take shelter on his left knee in an effort to get out of the way a little more.
“Watching every motion in this foolish lover’s game. 
Haunted by the notion somewhere there’s a love in flames.” 
The distorted voice coming from the speakers promises, and you feel yourself grow rather uneasy, as the odd voice manages to sound more and more threatening. 
“Eddie, please turn this off.” 
“I’m trying, but the power button won’t work.” 
“Eddie, don’t fuck with me right now.” 
“I’m not, alright. I promise, I’m not.”
To prove his point, your best friend purposely pushes the on/off button a couple of times, but it simply continues to stay unresponsive. 
“See?” 
To your own horrors, you not only see the radio’s inability to shut itself off, you hear it, too. 
“Uh-huh, kind of hard not to notice, Eddie. This sounds like music straight from hell.”
“I honestly don’t think the music down there would be that bad.”
That comment deserves your friend a small punch in his side, which he retaliates in turn with a poke of his own, and for a moment the weird music is almost forgotten, until suddenly it turns itself completely off again.
“Fuck, about time.” Eddie exclaims, relief evident in his voice.
“Seems like even the broadcast from hell struggles with transmission difficulties sometimes.” You state dryly, although, you’d be lying if you said that whatever this just was, didn’t unnerve you, too.
“This seriously never happened before.” Eddie mumbles, eying his radio with two watchful eyes, like he doesn’t quite trust the silence yet. 
“Guess I can’t say the same thing.” You state with a small shrug, and when Eddie gives you a slightly confused look, you elaborate: “This is kind of exactly like the stuff plaguing the Camaro.”
“Your music gets that distorted?”  
“No, but anything except that seems quite familiar; the static, the unresponsiveness of the buttons, the radio just turning itself off like that.” 
“Geez.” Eddie summarizes, and you don’t think you could put it any better either.
“Well, in any case, I know now that the problem can’t just be the radio signal, but probably something a lot more technical. Maybe an issue with the speakers, too, if the sound comes out that weirdly.”
“Yeah, for a minute I thought we were in some kind of horror movie.” You joke with a timid laugh, and it’s only now as you begin to relax again that you notice how incredibly tightly you’ve been holding on to Eddie’s shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt and the soft cushion of his flesh. 
After letting go quickly, your hand repeatedly strokes over that spot inconspicuously, like you’re trying to brush out a wrinkle you caused in a tablecloth without getting caught.
Like Eddie can’t still feel the cresent moons of your fingernails pushing into his skin.
“Quite honestly, a minute more of that racket, and I would have gone insane.” 
“Would have?”  You tease, and Eddie’s quick fingers are back at your sides. 
“Stop, stop!” You plead in between soft giggles, and Eddie thinks he would endure hell’s music for eternity, if it means he can listen to your earnest laughter one more time. 
Eddie’s fingers come to a rest soon after, and you lean into his frame once more, slightly out of breath from the tickle-induced laughing. 
“You’re not playing fair.” You huff, as soon as you have enough of your breath back to properly talk again, and Eddie just gives you a big grin. 
“Never said I was.” 
You roll your eyes, but it’s a half-hearted act, one that leaves you dodging Eddie’s fingers again.
“Well, I think I should get going now.” You state, after the ceasefire between tickling hands has reigned for a little bit longer, and it slowly dawns on you that you’ve spent a whole lot more time with Eddie than you’d initially planned. 
“Right, sure!” Eddie quickly fumbles with the door, trying to get it to open for you, without dropping you in the process. 
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow then.” He states, as you reluctantly detach yourself from him, before hopping out of his car and catching your footing on the curb in front of your house.
“Yeah, a quarter to 10,” you remind him, “and don’t stress about the Camaro too much, especially now that you have two patients to look after, instead of just one.” 
Your eyes fixate on his car radio. 
“Guess whatever is going on is contagious now.” 
You initially meant it as a joke, but now that the words have left your mouth, you can’t help but feel like there’s a bitter aftertaste to them. 
“Eddie, whatever you do, please be careful, okay?” 
“Don’t worry, I usually know what I’m doing.” 
“Uh-huh.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Nothing, I just know you, is all.”
This time, it’s Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes. 
“Oh, and Eddie,” you quickly interject, suddenly feeling a little more shy, “thank you.” 
Your friend’s gaze immediately softens.
“Anytime.” 
“I… uh, I think I really needed this, so thank you for not giving up on me.” 
“I would never!” Eddie looks almost offended at the implication that you could even think such a thing.
“I know now, I guess. And, uh, thank you for the tape, too.” 
Waving the small item for emphasis, you hope Eddie truly catches how much the events of tonight matter to you. 
And you’d like to think, as your eyes meet his in parting, that he does. 
That he does understand how much all of this means to you. How much his efforts are appreciated. 
“Drive slowly!” You exclaim in a last farewell, “and I can’t wait to meet your carton of eggs tomorrow.” 
Eddie’s laugh echoes through the space of the night like warm rays of sunshine. 
“I’ll let them know how eagerly you’ve been waiting for an introduction.” 
“Please do. Good night, Eddie.” 
“Night, sweetheart.” 
One last wave and a shared smile later, and the van’s door closes with a dull thud. 
You watch Eddie drive off into the night, his taillights vanishing in the distance until they’re only a mere memory of two red eyes glowing in the empty space of your street. 
Turning around to walk the few steps through your yard and up the stairs to your entrance, you can’t help but notice that the many memories buried deep within your chest feel a little lighter, or maybe just a little less heavy. 
And by the time you make it through your front door, the profound dread you normally feel upon walking into your family home does not overcome you the way it usually does.
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Once inside, you make your way into the kitchen immediately, getting some cold beverage before settling down in your bedroom. 
Like every night, you turn the TV on, letting it play as a background noise mindlessly, without paying much attention to it.
It’s another rerun of the movie Rumble Fish, and you honestly couldn’t care less about it, you just need some kind of distraction, some kind of stimuli, because anything is better than the haunting silence, especially in the portent hours between midnight and the rise of dawn. 
It’s not quite that late yet, but it most likely will be, by the time you feel exhausted enough to get at least some resemblance of sleep. 
Putting down Eddie’s tape on your bedside table, you decide to look for your cassette player, while the movie continues on lowly in the background. 
The TV also functions as your only light source, and its flickering lights illuminate the space of your bedroom before turning darker and then back into brightness again.
It’s an endless charade of light and dark against your bedroom walls.
As usual, the television alone isn’t enough of a distraction, and with a sigh, you decide to put on a record as well, to reallydrive the last remnants of your spinning thoughts out of your brain. 
Tonight, that honor falls in the hands of Patti Smith, and her powerful voice joins the hushed ones coming from the television. 
Moving through the space of your bedroom restlessly, you still try to find your walkman, but to no avail. 
You know you haven’t used it in a while, yet that doesn’t explain its apparent disappearance, and you feel angry tears start to fill your eyes. 
You just want to listen to that goddamn tape, and forget about the rest of the world for a little bit. 
After going through the items in your bookshelf one more time, you come to the realization that this current search-mission is a rather fruitless endeavor, and you might find yourself having more luck in the morning.
Defeated, and admittedly in a worse mood than you were before entering your bedroom, you flop down on your bed again, picking up Eddie’s tape and opening it up carefully. 
He’s written you a little note on the inside of the cover, underneath the, admittedly, rather small tracklist. 
I See You In Everyone  by Survivor  
x 5 times on Side A  
x 5 times on Side B  
Knock yourself out with this.  
 -  Eddie  
The tiny smile creeping up on your lips is impossible to call a halt to, and you really wish you could listen to the cassette now; if only you knew where your tape player currently resides. 
The song, that Eddie put on a tape as many times as it could possibly fit, is from the same album as the love song you and Billy used to call your own. And despite owning it as a vinyl in your rather extensive record collection, you don’t have the heart, or the strength, to listen to the complete album anymore. 
When Billy was still around, you used to listen to it all the time, obviously. 
But with I can’t hold back as the opening track on it, every song that followed would usually fade into the background quickly.
Especially with the amount of times you've made out with each other to said record, and by the time it was time to flip the vinyl over, you two were already in a completely different world, music and your surroundings completely forgotten. 
With that in mind, you never really listened that much to the B-side of the album. 
Until Billy’s death. 
Until in a desperate attempt to feel closer to him, a few days after his funeral, you decided to listen to it, the whole way through. 
A great mistake, as it turned out, because the onslaught of memories that came with everything in that moment; picking the record out, pulling it out of its covers, putting it on, and above all listening to it, felt like stabs straight through your heart, through yourself, through every fiber of your being, until you felt like a puddle of pure misery, tears, and despair, staining the soft carpet of your bedroom floor. 
But still, you pulled through, flipped the record over and listened to everything that that album had to offer.
And you cried the whole time, completely overcome by sadness and anger, until the very last song. 
I See You In Everyone.  
You don’t think you’ve ever listened to it before, or maybe you did, but you don’t remember. Either way, that afternoon, something about that tune struck a vital cord deep inside of you. 
And you wanted to listen to it again, over, and over, and over, until the vinyl would be completely worn out, or your record player broke, or the world got up in flames. 
The outside world, of course. 
Your world already did.
But unfortunately, you could hardly bear looking at that record, could hardly stomach touching it, or pulling it out of its designated space on your sideboard; let alone repeatedly engage in the whole process of actually putting it on and listening to it. 
You had to banish that vinyl from the space of your bedroom completely, each time you merely saw the cover of Vital Signs your heart would drop ten million feet below, shattering at the bottom of the earth and piercing every part of your soul.
That night, after having listened to the record completely, maybe for the first time ever, you got out of your mind drunk, kicking stones into the abyss of the quarry, until Eddie found you and- 
Well, the exact details hardly matter now, and it’s not like you remember much from it anyway. That night, like most of the nights following the first few weeks after Billy’s death, are nothing but a blur to you. 
But you do recall telling Eddie how there’s this song on your favorite Survivor record. That one record that’s cursed as your least favorite now, because it sparks nothing but painful memories, like lightning in the sky. 
Except for that one song, that one song.
That one song you want to listen to until your world doesn’t feel like it’s burning anymore. 
Until your heart stops hurting, until you wake up one morning without feeling like there’s a massive hole in the middle of your chest.
And Eddie, attentive as ever, somehow remembered. 
And now, here you are, with the song you’ve been craving for a whole long while, right there at the tips of your fingers, but with no real way to listen to it. 
You know that crying over something like this is a bit silly, but you’ve cried over smaller things before, and this right now feels rather big on your side of the universe. 
“Goddamn it!” You whisper, irritated by both, the tears in your eyes, and your inability to find that walkman. 
You stare at your ceiling for a little bit, almost ready to call it a night, when suddenly, out of your peripheral vision, you see something light up.
It’s only brief, only for a short moment of time, and you brush it off as a trick of the light coming from the TV at first, before it happens again. 
And again. 
And again once more. 
And by the fourth time, you finally lift your head. 
It’s the small night light on your dresser that’s lighting up, and then goes off again, lights up and then goes off again. 
“What the fuck?” You whisper confused, especially since you’re beyond certain that you didn’t even turn it on in the first place. 
You simply stare at it for a little while, watching the slow rhythm of the light flickering on and then off again. 
On and then off. 
After having seen enough of this odd routine, you decidedly get up, making your way over to the weirdly behaving culprit. 
The night light is a simple lamp in the shape of a small, plastic surfboard that lights up from within, giving its surroundings a warm, orange glow. 
It used to be a gift from Billy, something he’s gotten you without any special occasion, just because he thought it might look cute in your room, and maybe, as a small thing to remember him by. 
“So, when you wake up in the middle of the night without me by your side, you can still think of me, and remember that I’m always yours, even when we’re miles apart.”  He had told you with an uncharacteristically shy gaze, and your heart beamed with the luminosity of a thousand suns. 
You had wanted to get him a night light, too, initially. Thinking there was something deeply romantic about the small gesture of sharing matching night lights with each other while being apart.
Separated physically, but united in spirit, thinking of the other in your dark bedrooms, the small night lights a whisper of the other’s name.
In practice, that turned out to be a whole lot more difficult, mostly thanks to Billy’s dad. 
There simply was no way that such a thing would survive even a single night in Billy’s room without harm, and it wasn’t really worth the risk either, to be honest.
You didn’t want to give Neil any more reasons to mistreat and discipline his son, than he already had. 
So instead, you got Billy a little figurine that looked a lot like his Camaro. It wasn’t completely right, but still close enough, and you even took the time to paint two little faces on the windows of each side. 
A small iteration of Billy on the driver’s side, and you on the passenger seat. 
In reality, it looked a lot like two stick figures with bad hairstyles, and Billy started crying with laughter upon seeing them. His hearty hyena laugh echoing through your room for what felt like hours before he would calm down.
“I love it,” he said, voice rough from his unrestrained glee, wiping a few tears away. 
“You look like something out of an alien movie, trying to disguise itself as human, and I look like a possessed doll, but at least you got my angles right.”
And Billy threw his head back laughing again, curls flying everywhere as he shook his head in nothing but pure joy. 
“No, no, wait, I’ve got it! I’ve got it! I look like if Robert Plant and the smiley face from the goodwill logo had a baby!”
And then he was back to laughing his ass off again, amusement in every heaving breath leaving his lips, and you couldn’t help but join in on his laughter, too. 
“I’m never painting you something again.” You huffed, once you’d both calmed down enough, and though you tried hard to sound annoyed, you failed miserably. 
“Oh, no, Baby, please do! Please paint me things all the time now!” Billy exclaimed with a twinkle in his eyes. 
“I didn’t know about your talents! Tell me, who was your teacher? A five year old?”
“Asshole!” You'd grumbled, but you couldn’t keep a smile from spreading on your face. 
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry.” Billy immediately backtracked, not having seen your amused facial expression yet, and thinking you were earnestly hurt by his jab. 
He quickly rolled over on the bed to see you properly, caging you in between himself and the mattress, before cupping your face gently.
“I love it, okay? It’s a great gift! It kind of looks like Picasso threw up all over it, but I love it and-“
“Oh, shut up!” 
His comments had you laughing again, and you slapped his shoulder playfully while Billy gave you an earnest smile. 
“I really love it, it’s perfect.” 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“This is going to be us one day,” you whispered, “just us, leaving this shithole town and never looking back.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And where are we going?” Billy murmured, face inching closer to yours, until the very tips of your noses touched.
“Wherever you want to go,” you whispered, “wherever you want to go, Billy, I’ll follow.” 
“You promise?”
Billy’s voice suddenly sounded more vulnerable, like it was thick with emotions, or tears, or disbelief, or maybe a jumbled mix of it all.
“Cross my heart.” You murmured, fingers tracing a X upon your chest. 
“I’ll always be by your side, Billy, and that little car is supposed to be a reminder for you.”
There had been tears swimming in Billy’s eyes when you pulled him close for a deep kiss, and by the time your lips met, there were tears in your eyes, too. 
From that day on, Billy left that toylike figurine sitting on his bedside table, at a spot where it would always be illuminated by the soft glow from one of the street lamps outside at night.
It almost looked like it was glowing a little itself, and each time Billy woke up from a nightmarish dream, his eyes would find the small object, and he knew that he was going to get out of all of this, one day.
One day, you and him would leave everything behind and start over some place else.
And his heart longed for that moment, where he could walk out of his father’s house and never ever come back again.
So, that’s how you and Billy gifted each other a tiny copy of the Camaro, and a glowing, plastic surfboard.  
A surfboard that’s now flickering away on your dresser, and you can feel your heart sink a little at the sight.
“Oh, please don’t die on me, too.” You whisper, worried that the present that reminds you so much of your boyfriend decided to fritz out at the worst possible time.
It only takes you a couple of steps from where you’re currently sitting on the bed to get to the item in question, a deep frown settling upon your face. 
And that expression only deepens, once you notice that the lamp’s switch is still securely placed in its off position. 
“What-” you mumble quietly, as unease begins to settle in your stomach more and more, “how’s that even possible?” 
The flickering of the light increases its speed.
On. Off. On. Off. On. Off. 
“Okay, t-that’s enough.” Your voice comes out with a little tremor, but how could it not? 
There have been weird things happening in your bedroom before; sometimes, lights will flicker. Sometimes, your TV will suddenly turn to static, seemingly out of nowhere; but none of that ever bothers you too much, because it can all be explained away with the easy excuse of old wiring, or the growing age of your devices. 
Take your record player for example. A loyal thing gifted to you by your mother on your 14th birthday, but only a few weeks ago it started to act up, skipping and looping perfectly good vinyls for no apparent reason with increased frequency. It has to be its growing age, you’re sure of that. 
Maybe, it’s simply getting a bit too old and tired of spinning records all the time. And you can’t really blame it. You’ve been planning to take it to RadioShack for a while, to get it checked out and hopefully fixed, but it’s not something that concerns you too much, either.
So, when your night light starts to flicker in your room, it’s not like you’ve never seen such a thing before, but usually, the device is at the very least turned on.  
This, however, cannot be said for the little surfboard right now. It’s definitely switched off, and yet, every two seconds, it lights up the space of your dresser in a bright, orange hue. 
Your first attempt to make it stop is to simply turn the lamp on and then off again. Unfortunately, it doesn’t budge in the slightest, and the memory of your and Eddie’s car radios doing something oddly familiar creeps its way into your mind. 
You feel your heartbeat quickening, as a  growing anxiety rushes through you, this should not be possible, you think, and yet, here you are bearing witness to it. 
With trembling fingers, you try switching it off one last time, but after being unsuccessful again, you can’t help but take a few shaky steps back. 
“Okay,” you whisper, trying hard not to freak out completely, “okay, okay, okay, okay.” 
There’s one more thing that you could try.
One more chance to make it stop.  
Whatever it even is. 
You quickly approach the dresser again, this time kneeling down next to its side, hand stretching out in an effort to reach into the space behind it.
There’s cobwebs, and dust, and hardly any room, and your fingers keep touching things you’d rather not think about, before you feel the outline of your outlet merging together with the plug. 
It’s a tight fit, the space between your furniture and wall being rather narrow, and trying to pull the plug from its socket without scratching up your hands is not an easy task, but somehow, after some rounds of trial and error, you manage to finally set it free. 
There’s a small clicking sound, and then, unceremoniously, the lamp turns completely off. 
“Jesus Christ,” you exhale, resting your head gently against your wooden dresser, trying to take a few steading breaths. 
“That was…” You don’t even know how to finish that sentence. 
Spooky? Unexpected? Quite something?  
Retreading your hand from the space between turns out to go a lot quicker and smoother than getting it there, and you shake it a few times with slight disgust, convinced that you can still feel faint traces of cobwebs haunting it.
With a heavy sigh, you take a look through your room, but everything else seems just the same.
Like nothing weird happened at all.
Your TV keeps playing in the background, and your Patti Smith record is still spinning.
And your pulse is slowly coming down to healthy level again.
You’re about to get up and back into bed, hoping to forget whatever just happened, when something small and rectangular lying underneath your dresser catches your eye. 
Your breath hitches once you realize what you’re looking at, and your heart might actually be doing a tiny flip.
There, behind one leg of your wooden dresser, hides your missing walkman. 
“No way,” you mumble, confused and slightly stunned. 
“How the hell did you get here?” You question, though you don’t expect the inanimate object to actually answer that.
You don’t remember any event that might explain why your tape player currently resides in such an odd place, but you also don’t really have the energy, or brain power, to question the whole thing, either. 
You just want to cuddle up in bed and forget a good portion of this night. Block out the weird behavior of your lamp and its meaning; at the very least for a few hours.
You’re still trying to convince yourself that this was probably just a faulty cable, or maybe, a defect wiring connected to the switch, or something.
You can overthink these details in the morning, though, because right now, your fingers really itch to finally, finally listen to that tape.
To have its melody soothe a part of your soul that you otherwise can’t touch, can’t reach. 
Putting your headphones on securely, and pushing the play button with still slightly shaky fingers, you feel yourself exhale slowly as the opening notes of the song begin. 
You stare at the ceiling for a bit, as you let the music wash over you.
The glow from the TV draws flickering shapes on some parts of the space surrounding you, before withdrawing again, like waves.
It’s a hypnotizing spectacle, and you watch it for a while, trying not to think of the many Californian beaches you’ll have to visit all on your own.
By now, the moon has traveled enough across the horizon, to finally find its way in front of your bedroom window, painting your desk and the edge of your bed in a milky hue. 
“Listening for your footsteps in every hallway 
Watching for your headlights around the bend 
I can see you standing in every doorway. 
Out in the street, in every glance  
I see your reflection, I fall in a trance  
Can't you see what I've become  
It's making me crazy  
I see you in everyone!” 
The song continues, as you long for Billy in ways that can’t be put into words. 
For a moment, you decide to sit up again, turning around to face the window, looking up at the midnight blue canvas high above, hoping to find some comfort in it.
The waxing moon, a lonely companion in a cloudless sky, seems to glance down on you with a benevolent gaze, as you wipe a stray tear away. 
“I miss you, Billy.” You whisper into the endless sea of midnight sky. 
“I miss you so much. There’s not a single day where I don’t wish you near, where I don’t long for you to come back and hug me close.” 
You continue to stare up at the moon with teary eyes while your favorite part of the song begins, and a small sob leaves your lips. 
“Day by day, I watch the memories slip away  
And traces of reality come back to me  
Then I see your face, somewhere in a distant place  
The fantasy has gone too far -  
I close my eyes and there you are. 
I can see you standing in every doorway 
I can feel your heartbeat -- I hear your voice 
And hiding in my shadow you're with me always. ”
“I just wish you would come back.” You whisper, “I just really wish you would come back somehow.”
With your eyes still transfixed on the moon, and the volume of your walkman turned up to its maximum, you don’t notice the sudden picture of static flickering over the TV screen behind you, disturbing the current scene of Rumble Fish, before turning back to its normal broadcast again. 
Only this time in the movie, when Rusty James begs his brother to engage with him, to pay attention to him, his voice comes out distorted.
“Look at me, I just want you to see me, man.” The young man on the TV screen urges, voice slipping into something different, “I’m right here. I'm right here. I want you to see me-” 
The screen flickers again, as the scene loops back to its beginning. 
“Look at me… I’m right here, I’m right here.”  A different voice says. 
Billy’s voice. 
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Ahhh! And that’s it for the first chapter! If you’ve made it this far, thank you!! I know this part was quite Eddie/Reader heavy, but I promise Billy will start to make a lot more appearances (one way or another), too, and Eddie will have to take a backseat then.
I’m not sure when I’ll have the next part for this finished. Considering that I have a few more series and works in the drafts, it will probably take a little bit.
Like I’ve already said, I’ve decided to start a taglist so if you want to be tagged in the next chapter just let me know or fill out this form here <3
Also, before anyone decides to come for me because of my inaccurate music choices. I know that 'Take My Breath Away' was initially released in ’86 rather than ’85, but with a little suspense of belief I hope we can all overlook that tiny flaw. Thank you!
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canislupus-exe · 2 years
Text
Fits of Passion and Idiocy | eddie munson
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CONTAINS SPOILERS
fandom | Stanger Things
character | Eddie Munson
reader | he/him (she ver.)(they ver.)
requested | anonymous
warnings | brief mention of drugs, canon character death, fandom typical blood & violence, mild angst
word count | 14,814
keys | (Y/n) = Your name, (L/n) = Last name, (f/c) = favorite color, (D/n) = Dog's name
summary | eddie fix it fic PLEASE im begging literally you an do anything you want just fix it my heart was BROKEN
editor | @feliscatus-exe
>> back to prev <<
Keep reading
“So, uh, speaking of monsters, uh, Lucas has to do his, uh… balls-in-laundry-baskets game. So…” Dustin trails off, chuckling. “He’s not gonna be able to make it to Hellfire tonight.” His attempt to lighten the mood while talking about such a thing seems to have no sway on Eddie.
“And I know there’s no way we can beat your sadistic campaign without him. So, me and mike, we were talking, shooting the shit, and we were thinking that ma-maybe we- we might-”
“Postpone.” Mike cuts his rambling short.
“Postpone!?” The rest of the Hellfire Club shouts in anger. They begin talking over each other, most of their sentences overlapping and inaudible.
“Shut up!” Eddie shouts over everyone else. Gareth sighs and swallows his frustration.
“You saying Sinclair’s been taken in by the dark side?” Eddie asks.
“Uh. Something like that.” Mike replies.
“Something like that?” Eddie hisses as he throws a pretzel at him.
“Jesus Christ.” Dustin whispers, his voice high-pitched and somewhat trembling.
“And rather than find a sub for him, you want… you want to postpone ‘The Cult of Vecna’?” He asks, another pretzel in his hand. Whether for eating or throwing, they’re unsure.
“I… I don’t want to postpone it. We don’t want to postpone it. It’s just that, you know, most of the subs will be at the championship game.” Mike begins to plead his case, but Eddie stands up from his chair halfway through his sentence.
“Oh, it’s the championship game?” He asks.
“Yeah?” He replies, his words coming out as more of a question than an answer.
“Can I level with you? Jeff graduates this year. Gareth’s got, what? A year and a half? Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms. O’Donnell’s. If I don’t blow her final, I’m gonna walk that stage next month, I’m gonna look principal Higgins dead in the eye, I’m gonna flip him the bird, I’m gonna snatch that diploma, and I’m gonna run like hell outta here.” He’d made his way around the entire table by the end of his spiel, pumping up the theatrics as he always did, which made Dustin laugh.
“Didn’t you say that last year?” Gareth asks.
“And the year before that?” Jeff chimes in. Eddie half jogs back to the table.
“Yeah, yeah, and I was full of shit. This year’s different. This year is my year. I can feel it. ‘86 baby.” He relays with a shit-eating grin—the rest of the group chuckles.
“You know what that means?” Eddie asks. Dustin and Mike shake their heads.
“It means you boys are the future of Hellfire. I knew it the moment I saw you. You sat on that table right over there, looking like… looking like two little lost sheep.” He says, leaning down to the boys' level with his hands on either of their shoulders.
“You were wearing a Weird Al T-shirt, which I thought was brave,” Eddie says to Dustin.
“Thank you.” He replies, his voice hardly even a whisper.
“Mike, you were wearing whatever shit your mommy bought you from goddamn Gap,” Eddie says to Mike, causing them to laugh much louder than before. At the moment their guards were down, Eddie pulls them up from their chairs by their shirts, forcing them to walk alongside him. 
“And we showed you that school didn’t have to be the worst years of your lives, right?” He asks.
“No,” Mike replies.
“Okay, no, no. Well, I’m here to tell you that there are other little lost sheepies out there who need help. Who need you. And all you guys gotta do is get your Bo-Peeps on and go and find one.” He says, giving them one final shove away from the table.
>><<
Mike and Dustin groan as they sit on the brick wall surrounding the outside benches.
“I hate high school,” Mike says. Dustin grunts in response. As he looks away from Mike, he notices something in the distance.
“Hey hey look, two o’clock.” He says. Mike looks in the opposite direction of two o’clock, seeing as he’d never learned what that meant. Dustin rolled his eyes and pointed.
“Over there dipshit.” He said. They watched as a (f/c) backpack with a D20 keychain on the zipper disappeared into the library. He looked at Mike as Mike looked at him, presumably having the same thought. They both stood up and rushed toward the building, throwing the doors open fervently.
“Where did he go?” Dustin whisper-shouted.
“I-I don’t know Dustin! Maybe we should look for him in the aisles.” Mike replied. Dustin sighed as he walked further into the library, checking behind every shelf for any sign of life. Finally, he’d found you, all the way in the back where you were putting books back on the shelf. 
“You!” He shouted. You jumped, so startled by the loud outburst that you dropped the book you were holding. You bent over to pick it up and turned around to see who was bothering you. You looked down at who you could only assume was a freshman.
“Please keep it down. Library policy. Do you need help finding a book or something?” You asked. A second freshman rounded the corner and walked to stand next to the first.
“You play DnD.” The one with curly hair stated, almost matter-of-factly. You raised your eyebrows.
“Um… No. I don’t.” You replied as you turned away from him, starting to put the books back once again.
“Then why do you have a D20 keychain?” He asked. You sighed.
“Because I used to play.” You said.
“So you know how?” He asked.
“Well, yeah, but the last time I played was like four years ago. Plus, why do you care? I don’t even know you.” You replied.
“I’m Dustin Henderson and this is Mike Wheeler. We’re part of the Hellfire club and we need someone to sub in for the campaign tonight. So will you?” He asks, his voice desperate.
“No.” You reply simply.
“W-What? Seriously?”
“Yeah. Seriously. Truly. No.” You say, turning around to face him. Dustin looks at Mike, silently asking him for help but Mike only shrugs in response. Dustin sighs and turns back to you. He notices the school ID around your neck and reads your name, before deciding to take a page out of Eddie’s book.
“Can I level with you for a moment (Y/n)?” He asks. You raise your eyebrows at the use of your name.
“We need you, so I’m willing to sweeten the deal on your end.” He says. You scoff. 
“Dude, you know nothing about me. How could you possibly ‘sweeten the deal’?” You ask, putting air quotes around what he’d said.
“Well everybody loves movies! I can make it so you don’t have to pay to rent a movie for the next month.” He replies. You raise your eyebrows.
“Oh yeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that Dustin Henderson?” You say, leaning on the cart of books.
“I have a buddy who works at Family Video. He’ll waive your fee for the next month, I swear.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“I’ll pay!” He shouts. 
“Shhh!” You shout back at him.
“Sorry. Sorry.” He whispers. You roll your eyes.
“So you’ll get your buddy to waive my movie rental fee for the next month if I play DnD with you for one night?” You ask. Dustin nods. You think for a second before sighing. 
“Alright fine. But I swear to God if you try to pull a fast one on me, I’ll make your life hell. And I mean it, kid.” You say, poking your finger into his chest.
“Yes! You won’t regret this (Y/n)! Come on Mike!” He says as he bolts out the library doors with his friend in tow.
“You think Steve will let him rent for free?” Mike asked.
“Who cares? We have found a sub for tonight and that’s all that matters.”
>><<
The leader of the Hellfire Club sits on his throne. Hands folded together as he eyes you standing next to Dustin and Mike.
“Absolutely not.” He says after a pause of silence.
“You asked for a sub. We delivered.” Dustin said as he motioned toward you.
“This is Hellfire Club. Not Sports club.” He says, pointing at your Indiana Hoosiers T-shirt. You rolled your eyes.
“It was the only shirt I had clean. Plus, it’s comfortable you elitist piece of shit.”
“My, my. The sports fan knows big words.” Eddie replies, eliciting chuckles from his friends. He stands up from his throne, walking toward you.
“So, what’s your name, sports fan?”
“(Y/n) (L/n).” You reply. He laughs.
“So you’re the boy who works in the library.” You scoff and turn to Dustin.
“Wow, intuitive, isn’t he?” You say, earning a laugh from his friends. He turns and glares at them, shutting them up immediately.
“What’s your class and level? Level one half-orc?” He asks, once again earning laughter from his buddies.
“My name is Akzire the Wretched. And I’m a chaotic neutral Tiefling Fighter, level 15. And I will valiantly protect my party members by beheading any monster you throw my way with my scimitar. And I will brandish their head for all to see as a token of my victory. So, we gonna do this, or are you gonna keep pestering me like you’re a little girl in need of attention?” You ask. The five members stare at you as you face off with Eddie, shocked at how effortlessly you’ve challenged him. They wait in stunned silence, but after a moment, he breaks out into a cheeky smile and offers you his hand to shake.
“Welcome to Hellfire.” He says. You roll your eyes one last time, but with a smile, as you shake his hand.
>><<
You sit at the table, listening intently as Eddie relays his campaign onto the club.
“The hooded cultists chant, ‘Hail Lord Vecna. Hail Lord Vecna.’ They turn to you, remove their hoods. You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize, his skin shriveled, desiccated. And something else. He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!” He shouts, covering his own with his hand. The party erupts in protests, strings of “no”s and “come on man”s.
“Vecna’s dead!” Jeff shouts.
“He was killed by Kas!” Mike yells, to which Eddie smirks at.
“So it was thought, my friends. So it was thought. But Vecna… Lives!” He exclaims, placing the figurine on its podium with unmatched vigor. He resigns back to his throne.
“You are scared. You’re tired. You are injured. Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or stand your ground and fight?” He asks. Mike reclines in his seat as Dustin ponders the options.
“Come on.” Eddie prods. After a few seconds, he speaks up.
“I say we fight. To the death.” He states.
“To the death.” Mike agrees, nodding his head. They look toward you. You sigh.
“Fuck it. To the death.” You reply. The rest of the table breaks out into smiles.
“To the death! To the death! To the death! To the death! To the death! To the death! To the death!” Everyone chants while slamming their palms down. Eddie’s large smile is plastered on his face as he watches.
“To the death!” Dustin screams as he pumps his fists in the air. You grab the dice and roll, watching as they slide over the surface of the table. They all shout in triumph, some even clapping. It’s Mike's turn to roll, but it lands on 8, a miss. Eddie pushes over his figurine and the club begins to groan in protest. Jeff rolls. Miss. Miss after miss after miss and Eddie begins to laugh maniacally.
“Time out time out!” One of the members calls. You all step away from the table and huddle up.
“Guys, I hate to say this, but we've got to flee,” Gareth says, clear tiredness in his tone.
“I concur.” The person who called the time-out replies.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t we just agree on ‘to the death’?” You asked.
“That wasn’t literal,” Gareth replies.
“Vecna just decimated us. We can’t kill him with two players.” Jeff argues. You sigh and turn to Dustin, who’s already on the defense.
“You too? He only has 15 hit points left. Don’t be pussies.” He practically growls.
“Pussies? Really? Cause we’re not delusional.”
“Delusional? How about ‘not cowards’.” You retort.
“Hey!” Eddie calls from across the room, grabbing everyone’s attention and breaking the huddle.
“If I may interject gentlemen. Whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gareth the Great’s concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don’t try to be heroes. Not today, ‘kay?” He says, that cheeky shit-eating grin back on his face. It would make you furious if part of you didn’t find it so cute. Dustin holds up a finger.
“One sec.” He says before reforming the huddle circle.
“What do you think Mike?” He asks.
“How many hit points do you and Akzire have left?”
“Twelve.” Both you and Dustin proclaim in unison.
“It’s risky as hell… But you’re the ones on the battlefield. So it’s your call.” Mike says. You sigh and look at Dustin.
“What do you say Akzire the Wretched?” He asks. You smile.
“Do you even have to ask?” You reply. A moment of silence hangs over the Hellfire Club as Dustin contemplates.
“Screw it.” He finally mutters, pulling away from the huddle.
“Let’s kill this son of a bitch.” He states. Everyone approaches the table.
“The chances of success are 20-to-1,” Jeff says. Dustin holds up his finger.
“Never tell me the odds. Give me the D20.” He demands, holding his open palm out. Eddie picks up the die with that damn smile painted on his face and tosses it toward him. He catches it and holds his hands over his shoulder, shaking it vigorously. You watch with bated breath as he tosses it. It rolls and rolls and rolls until finally… 11.
“That's! A! Miss!” Eddie calls out, shaking his head after every word.
“Shit! Shit!” Dustin shouts, and in his anger, he knocks one of the soda cans off the table. But now, you were up. The entire game hinged on your role, and you could feel every bit of pressure as you picked up the die. You closed your eyes and shook it in your hands, feeling the intense stares on you as you did so.
“Please!” You could hear Gareth shout beside you.
“Come on!” Dustin called out. But their words fell on unlistening ears. You were too focused on the cool feeling of the die gently hitting the palms that encased it. Finally, without thinking about it, you released it. Watching with unmatched intensity as it rolled, the quiet clacking against the wooden table sounded immeasurable in magnitude. And then, it reached the end of its road. No more cascading down the table. It stopped. And it landed with the 20 side facing up.
“Crit hit!” You shouted, the rest of the club exploding in cheers alongside you.
“What? What?” Eddie shouted in disbelief, laughing and clapping his hands.
“That’s why we play!” He said, bending over and extending his arms, almost as if he was presenting your victory to someone. You smiled, much brighter than you had in a long time. Maybe this Hellfire thing wasn’t so bad after all.
>><<
You whistled as you pulled your car into the parking lot of the Family Video, double-checking the address Dustin had written down for you. It seemed like it was the right one so you put your car in park and gathered your keys and wallet. As you were doing so, you saw Dustin rush into the store, a redheaded girl following right behind him. What perfect timing. 
Nobody paid you any mind as you walked into the store, perusing their many isles of movies, searching for something that may come of interest to you. Dustin was behind the counter with the redhead you saw earlier and two people you vaguely recognized from school. 
You shuffled through the shelves closest to the front counter. It was by pure happenstance that you heard their conversations. Dustin, along with the two girls you didn't know were all on the phone, and it sounded like they were talking about Eddie, meanwhile, the older guy was cheesing up a customer with some romcom, which you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at.
“Hey, guys, I might have a lead.” The redhead called out as she hung up the phone.
“Seriously?” Dustin asked as he turned around in his chair to look at her.
“Yeah. Apparently, Eddie gets drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick, and sometimes Eddie crashes there.” She replies. You whistled as you approach the counter, having decided which movies you wanted to take home. 
“Now that is a name I haven’t heard in a minute,” You say, setting your items down.
“(Y/n), what are you doing here?” Dustin asks. You shrug and push your tapes toward the worker.
“Cashing in on the sweet deal Dustin gave me to play DnD with him.” You reply. This statement catches the older guy's interest and he walks over.
“Wait wait wait. What’s he talking about Dustin?” He asks. 
“Shit. Now, before you get mad at me Steve, I was desperate.”
“Dustin. What. Did. You. Do.” He demands, dropping his palms on the counter. Dustin sighs and closes his eyes.
“I may or may not have told him he could get movies here without paying the rental fee.” He says, getting the words out as fast as he could.
“You did what?!” Steve asks. You smile and lean your head on your palm, which you lean on the counter.
“For a month.” You interject. Steve looks at you and then at Dustin.
“For a month?!” He shouts. Dustin rolls his eyes.
“H-Honestly Steve it’s not that big of a deal. You can just-”
“Not that big of a deal? Not that big of a deal!? You have the nerve to- to-to-”
“Pimp you out?” You suggest.
“Pimp me out! Thank you (Y/n). And then tell me it’s not a big deal. Who do you think-”
“Guys shut up!” The redhead silenced them. They did so without question and she turned to you.
“You said you hadn’t heard that name for a while. Reefer Rick?” She asks. You nod.
“I used to hang at his place and get high before he got busted.” You reply, tracing your finger along the cover of the VHS on the counter.
“You smoke?” Steve asks, obviously perplexed by this fact. You shrugged.
“There ain’t exactly much else to do in this shithole town.” You reply.
“But that means you know where he lives? That-That’s great! Get me a pen so I can write it down!” Dustin says, searching for a piece of paper. 
“Now hold on there Dustin. I’m not just going to give you the address. What kind of a person would that make me?” You reply innocently, but before he can speak, you continue.
“At least… not for free.” 
“Jesus Christ (Y/n) seriously? Now is not the time to dick around.” Dustin practically yells at you. 
“Who’s he gonna pimp out this time?” The older girl said as she nudged Steve. You chuckle as you hold your hand up.
“I don’t want anything supermassive. Free movies for a month are profit enough. I just want to tag along. Be a part of the know, you know?” You reply. Dustin looks at the redhead who shakes her head.
“(Y/n), I don’t think you want to know this know, okay. It’s in your better interest to just give us the address and forget this ever happened.” He said, placing a sticky note and pen in front of you. You raise your eyebrows and sigh.
“Alright, fine.” You say, grabbing the pen and writing on the paper. Once you were done you slid it over to him. He grabbed it with fervor but paused when he read it. Not a chance kid.
“I told you. I want all the details, or you guys will never find Reefer Rick. Well… you might but, it could be too late.” You say, gathering the VHSs you’d set down.
“But if you guys don’t want to know, I'll just be on my way.” You walk away from the service desk, hearing Dustin string out profanities.
“(Y/n)! Wait.” He calls out. You turn around, a coy smile on your face.
“We’ll tell you on the way there, 'cause it’s a long story.” He says with a sigh. You smile and grab your car keys from your pocket.
“Shall we?”
>><<
“So just to recap. Chrissy Cunningham is dead, last seen with Eddie Munson in his trailer by you, Max Mayfield, but you didn’t go straight to the cops with this information, instead, you go to Dustin Henderson's house to tell him, and even after that you still don’t go to the cops, you go to Family Video where you relay the entire situation to your friends Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, and might I just add it’s a bit concerning how many young adults you’re friends with. What is it now, four?” You say, your hands on the steering wheel of your car.
“Wow, he’s got a great memory. When did we even tell you our last names?” Robin asks.
“I recognized you two from the yearbook.” You said with a shrug. The familiar sound of gravel on your tires was somewhat pleasant as you pulled to the side of the house. The sun had long since set, so most were carrying flashlights as they approached the door and rang the doorbell. Waiting not even a second before the first bell finishes, he rings it again. He rings it seven more times before he starts to bang on the window.
“Okay. Well, that’s settled. I guess he’s not here.” Steve says, but you knew he wouldn’t give up that easy. And true to your thoughts, he leans over and yells into the window.
“Eddie! It’s Dustin!”
“Great.”
“Look, we just wanna talk okay? No cops, I swear. We just wanna help.” He shouts as he pounds on the glass pane.
“Eddie!”
“Shhh!” Robin shouts at him. He begins to ring the doorbell again.
“Rick!” He calls out as he pounds in the door.
“Is he always like this?” You whisper to Steve. He sighs and nods.
“Reefer rick!” Dustin yells.
“Don’t scream that.” Steve scolds him.
“Rick!”
“He’s not there!” You turn your attention away from the loud door pounding and their incessant bickering to see Max making her way around the house.
“Reefer Rick!” Dustin’s shouting pulls your attention back to him.
“Just-”
“He might just be really high…” Dustin suggests.
“Is that a foot?” Steve asks. You roll your eyes.
“No, that’s just a shoe,” Dustin replies.
“Obviously dumbass.” You mutter.
“Hey, guys!” Max shouts. Everyone looks at her for a brief second before leaving the front porch and stationing behind her. There was an eerie-looking boat house staring back at you.
“Despite it being a terrible idea, why do I have the feeling that we’re gonna go poking around in there?” You asked. Max looked over her shoulder at you before looking back at the boathouse. She slowly approached it, shining her light in the windows. You sighed.
“Yep. How did I know?” You say as you roll your eyes and follow close behind her. Once you’d made a full circle around the building, you reached the door. Robin was the first to push it open.
“Hello?” She called out to the vast darkness.
“Is anyone home?” She said, sweeping her flashlight across the room. She stepped inside, Max following her. Then Dustin, then you, then Steve bringing up the tail end.
“What a dump.” He said, looking around.
“Yeah well, I’m sure Eddie wouldn’t be hiding out in the Hilton.” You replied. Steve rolled his eyes and clicked off his flashlight so he could put it away. Once he did, he grabbed what looked to be an oar off the wall and began to violently poke whatever the tarp covered in the center of the room.
“What are you doing?” Dustin asks. Steve responded by poking it again. Dustin repeated his question and Steve shrugged.
“He might be in here.”
“So take the tarp off!” Dustin exclaimed while Steve continued to mess with it.
“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off.” He replied. They both continued to circle the boat, neither of them removing the tarp.
“Hey, look over here,” Max called. You and Robin walked to her side, examining whatever she was ushering to.
“Someone was here.” She said, picking up the wrappers scattered access the surface.
“Maybe he heard us. Got spooked and ran.” “Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar.” Dustin replied sarcastically.
“I know you think you’re being funny Henderson but considering almost everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight-” Steve was cut off by the sound of glass shattering and movement so fast you could barely perceive it. Eddie had emerged from the tarp and was backing steve against a wall, holding the jagged edges of the broken glass bottle toward his throat.
“Wait wait wait wait wait!” Steve shrieked in horror. You speechlessly watched, unsure of what you could do.
“Woah, woah, woah, Eddie! Eddie! Stop! Eddie! Eddie!” Dustin called out as you all rushed toward him but still kept a reasonable distance. Eddie turned his head to stare at him. His eyes were wide with terror, and you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell you’d gotten yourself into.
“It’s me. It’s Dustin. This is Steve. He’s not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?”
“Right. Yeah.” Steve replied meekly, his voice hardly above a whisper.
“Steve, why don’t you drop the oar?” Dustin asked. There’s a quiet thud as Steve does what he’s told, but in doing so Eddie only pushes the bottle closer to steve's neck. He groans in pain and fear.
“He’s cool. He’s cool!” Dustin shouts.
“I’m cool, man. I’m cool.” Steve practically begs.
“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, his voice is rough and terrified, so much different than the way he’d sounded that night at hellfire.
“We’re looking for you,” Dustin says softly.
“We’re here to help.” Robin chimes in.
“Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band.” Dustin says, ushering to the girl behind him, who mimics playing trumpet.
“And (Y/n), from Hellfire. You remember him, right?” He says. You give a weak smile from behind Dustin, waving at Eddie.
“This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play, D&D. Eddie. We’re on your side. I swear on my mother. Right guys?”
“Yes. Yes. We swear.” Max pleaded.
“On Dustin’s mother,” Robin replied.
“Yeah. Dustin’s… Dustin’s mother.” Steve chimed in. There’s a moment of silence that seems to last forever before Eddie finally pulls away from Steve, who gasps in relief.
“Jesus christ…” He mumbles to himself. You watch Eddie walk away, sinking down the wall until he’s sitting. Dustin approaches him.
“Eddie… We just want to talk.” His words are slow as he stoops to Eddie’s level. He gently reaches for the broken bottle, but Eddie flinches away.
“Okay…” He whispers, removing his hands.
“We want to know what happened,” Robin said as she knelt next to Dustin. Eddie sniffles and shakes his head, looking at her.
“You won’t believe me.” He says, making eye contact with you for a split second before looking away. 
“Try us,” Max replies. Eddie stares at her before standing up and slowly beginning to pace. He seems to be psyching himself out. Dustin adjusts his position, as do the rest of you as you wait for him. He pulled a chair in front of everyone and sat down, looking at his hands in his lap for a few more minutes before finally looking back up.
“Her body just, like, lifted up into the air and, uh… and she just, like, hung there. In the air. And her bones… Uh, she…” He seems to whimper at the thought and his voice becomes shakier as he continues.
“Her bones started to snap. Her eyes, man. It… It was like there was something, like, inside her head, pulling. I… I didn’t know what to do, so I…I ran away. I left her there.” He pauses for a second before scoffing.
“You all think I’m crazy, right?”
“No. We don’t think you’re crazy.”
“We don’t?” You whisper, not wanting him to hear. Steve nudges you in the side and gives you a look which you’re tempted to argue with but stop when Eddie begins to yell.
“Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds.” His voice cracks.
“We’re not bullshitting you,” Max says.
“We believe you,” Robin interjects. Maybe you missed the memo because it seems like everyone else was on the same page. Dustin was right, you were in way over your head.
“Look, what I’m about to tell you might be a little, difficult to take,” Dustin says.
“Okay,” Eddie replies.
“You know how people say Hawkins is… cursed? They’re not way off… There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours.” You were just as perplexed as Eddie seemed to be.
“Like ghosts and shit?” He asks. You snicker quietly, earning a glare from Max before she turns back to Eddie to continue.
“There are some things worse than ghosts.” She replies.
“These monsters from this other world… we thought they were gone. But they’ve come back before. That’s why we needed to find you.”
“If they’re back again, we need to know,” Max says, her voice firm, demanding almost.
“That night, did you see anything?” Robin asks.
“Dark particles, maybe?” Max adds on. Eddie shakes his head.
“It would almost look like dust, swirling dust.” 
“No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh… or touch… You know, I tried to wake her, man. She couldn’t move. It was like she… she was in a trance or something.”
“Or under a spell,” Dustin suggests. Eddie looks at him.
“A curse.” He whispers.
“Vecna’s curse.”
“You don’t mean from…” You trail off, mostly thinking out loud rather than talking to anyone. Dustin nods, and steve looks at him confused.
“Who’s Vecna?” He asks.
“An undead creature of great power,” Dustin replies.
“A spell caster,” Eddie adds, meeting his gaze with yours.
“A dark wizard,” Dustin whispers. You remembered the horrors you’d read about him in your books. But that’s all they were. Books. Works of fiction. These people you’d known for a combined total of a few hours couldn’t possibly be trying to convince you otherwise, right?
“Sorry, did I miss a chapter or something? Cause if Eddie’s not the crazy one here then I think I might be. What the fuck is going on?” You asked. Max sighed.
“It’s a long story.”
“And very unbelievable,” Robin says with a slight chuckle. You closed your eyes and rubbed your temples.
“Condense it and consider me open-minded.” You replied, leaning against the wooden pillar behind you. 
“A few years ago our friend Will was kidnapped by a monster from the upside down, that’s what we call that other world we mentioned earlier. We found this girl, Eleven or El as we called her and she has superpowers. She fought the Demogorgon, the monster that kidnapped Will, and we thought she died after that but turns out she was just being kept hidden by Hopper, the chief of police. Will tried to return to normal life but failed since he now had some sort of connection to the upside down and could see into it, causing a new monster to possess him, The Mind Flayer. We were able to defeat him, or so we thought. He returned, this time with Russians on his side.” “Russians!?” You exclaim.
“That’s where we come in!” Robin said with a smile. Steve scoffs.
“Correction, that’s where you come in. I was there since the Demogorgon.” He replies.
“Ehhh, more like since Dart,” Dustin says.
“Who’s Dart?” You ask.
“Not integral to the story. Back to the Russians. They were running an underground operation with a mall as the front. Eleven returns, another victory, yadda yadda. They move to California to escape the craziness of Hawkins but we’re still here, thus still having to deal with it.”
“And now there’s a new monster… Vecna… who’s… framing people for murder?” You ask. Dustin looks at Eddie and shrugs.
“More or less.” He says. You sigh, trying to take in the information you were just given. 
“I tried to tell you (Y/n). You didn’t want to know this know. It’s not too late to back out now. Just go back home and pretend this never happened.” Dustin said as he stood up. You rolled your eyes.
“Yeah right. If any of this shit you’re saying is the truth, it’s gnarly as hell. Besides,” You hold up your keys. “How else would you guys get home?” You say with a smile. Dustin sighs.
“You really wanna do this?” He asks. You nod.
“In fact, I’m about to get myself into even deeper shit. Eddie can’t stay here.” You say, pointing at the subject who was still sitting in his chair and chewing on his nails. At the sound of his name, he stared up at you.
“Why not?” He asked. “You have a very tangible connection to reefer rick. If I knew that, other people are bound to know that. If some dumbass kids were able to find you, I doubt the cops are that far behind.” You reply. 
“He’s right,” Max replies. Dustin groans.
“Of course he’s right but where else could he go? This town isn’t exactly crawling with good fugitive hiding spots.”
“Why can't he just stay with me?” You ask. Dustin looks at you, along with everybody else in the room. Steve is the first to make a noise, which is a somewhat awkward laugh.
“Listen, (Y/n), as much as we love the knight in shining armor move, I doubt your parents will be too keen on you hiding-”
“Who says I live with my parents?” You cut him off. He raises his eyebrows.
“You… don’t?” He asks.
“No. I live on my own. In a pretty secluded area. My neighbors are at least ten minutes in either direction so they wouldn’t see anything. The only people who know I’ve ever interacted with you are the Hellfire club. And considering I was only there one night, there are probably plenty of other people they’d talk to first. It’s perfect.”
“How old are you?” Steve asks, still seemingly shocked that you live on your own.
“19.” You reply.
“How do you-”
“Steve. Shut up.” Robin cuts him off. He looks at her, his face almost offended that she would do such a thing.
“That could work… Eddie, what do you think?” Dustin asks as he turns to the man of the hour.
“You’re asking me what I think?” He replied. Dustin shrugs. Eddie sighs, standing up from the chair and crossing his arms.
“You’re really gonna harbor a fugitive (L/n)?” He asks. You shrug. 
“Why not? I’ve already done plenty to get me jailed tonight, might as well make that list as long as possible. Get me more cred in the yard if we get caught.” You say with an almost devious smile.
“(Y/n)’s house it is. Anything beats this shithole.” Eddie replied. 
“Let’s get a move on then.” You grabbed your keys out of your pocket but pause for a second.
“Hold on, I’ve got an idea.” You said, putting your keys back into your pocket and removing the tarp from the boat. 
“What are you doing?” Dustin asked. You began to unhook the boat from where it was being held.
“Sending this bad boy out to sea. With any luck, the police will find it and think Eddie jumped off ‘cause he couldn’t handle the guilt.” You reply. Eddie smiles.
“Smart.” He says as he crosses his arms. You return the smile.
“I try.”
>><<
You pulled into the driveway of your house, hearing your dog barking. Poor boy hasn’t seen you all day, he must’ve missed you. You quickly locked it down before stepping out. You held your keys in your hand as you turned around.
“The dog is very friendly, don’t worry. He’s a total sweetheart. He might nibble your arm but that’s about it.” You say as you unlock your front door. True to your word, your dog came barrelling toward you, greeting you by jumping on your legs. You laughed and pet him gingerly, waiting for the others to pile in.
“Everyone in? Good. I’ll lock up, you guys can make yourself at home.” You said. He weaseled around you to sniff the new people. Max smiled as she began to put him.
“He’s so cute… What's his name?” She asked.
“It’s (D/n).” You reply, walking toward your tv so you could kneel and store your new VHS rentals with the others. Once everything is neatly sorted, you stand back up and turn around to talk to others.
“Since we dropped by your place to grab your car Steve, you should get these kids home now. It’s pretty late. Eddie and I will be fine.” You say.
“Are you sure? What if the cops come?” Dustin asks. You laugh and gently push down his hat.
“You worry too much. Get out of here already.” You reply, walking back toward your door to unlock it for them. He begrudgingly makes his way over, pausing for everyone else to follow him. 
“We’ll be back tomorrow to check up on you two,” Steve says. You nod.
“Fine by me. See you all then.” You say as they slowly begin to exit. Once they’re in their car, you lock the door and turn to Eddie who stands awkwardly. You laugh.
“Relax dude.” You say.
“Relax? I’m on the run from the police and you want me to relax? I’m surprised you’re not losing your head right now considering you’re the one hiding me.”
“We’re just two friends hanging out, alright? Listen… You look like shit. Why don’t you take a shower while I cook dinner?” You suggest making your way into the kitchen to check what you could make.
“Shower? And what exactly do you propose I change into?” He asks.
“I’ll let you borrow some of mine while I toss yours in the washer. I’m sure I have something that’ll fit you. Might be a bit big though.” You say, exiting the kitchen and walking down the hall to your bedroom. You can hear him follow behind you. You push open the door and make your way to your dresser, beginning to shuffle through the top drawer.
“Oh… Wasn’t expecting your room to actually be cool.” Eddie says as he leans on the door frame. You glance at him with a cocked eyebrow.
“And why is that?” You ask.
“Well, you’re like a sports fan aren't you?” He asked. You rolled your eyes and went back to sifting through the clothes.
“Like I said. It was laundry night. I got that shirt from my dad ages ago. Couldn’t you tell from how beat up it was?” You replied, grabbing a couple of garments before standing up and tossing them toward him. He fumbled to catch them but eventually did. He unfolded the shirt to see a Mötley Crüe album cover staring back at him. He smiled.
“You’re hard to pin down (L/n).” He said. You rolled your eyes and tossed him a towel.
“That’s cause I like to be on top Munson.” You reply with a playful wink. Eddie’s face became red, holding the clothes close to his chest. He opened his mouth to reply but only sputtered. In order not to embarrass himself more, he opted to make his way to the bathroom for that shower. Maybe even a cold one.
“Make sure you toss your clothes out so I can wash them.” You shout. You see Eddie reach his arm out and drop everything in the hallway. Once you gathered his items, along with a couple of your own to make the load more substantial, you started the washer and made your way back to the living room.
You quietly whistled as you gently ran your finger along your shelf of cassettes, deciding which you wanted to listen to while you cooked. Eventually, you settled on Black Sabbath’s self-titled album and popped it into your radio.
The familiar sound of the rain from the opening song soothed you as you pulled out the pot you needed to boil water in. You hummed along once the music began to pick up. You continued cooking, enjoying the music in pair with the sound of the shower in the background.
A substantial amount of time had passed and you were close to finishing the meal you were preparing when you paused. Your favorite song on the album was starting. N.I.B. Instead of humming, you began to sing along.
“Some people say my love cannot be true / Please, believe me, my love, and I'll show you / I will give you those things you thought unreal / The sun, the moon, the stars all bear my seal.” You sing quietly to yourself.
“Woah, you’ve been holding out on me.” A voice spoke from behind you. You were startled, jumping slightly and flinging sauce onto your shirt. You groaned.
“Come on man.” You said, turning around and placing your hands on your hips. You planned on being annoyed but when you saw him standing in front of you with his curly hair damp and sticking to his forehead, you couldn’t help but swoon. Your shirt looked great on him, which caused a smile to creep onto your face.
“Tomato sauce?” He asked. You nodded.
“Spaghetti. I hope you like it.” You reply, turning back around to stir the sauce. Eddie leaned on the counter next to you, watching as you did so.
“I meant it though. Your voice was good. And your song choice? Impeccable.” He says. You roll your eyes and push him with your shoulder.
“Quit fucking with me Munson.”
“I mean it! Seriously.” His voice is soft and gentle, and your heartbeat starts to thump loudly in your chest. You turn the heat off your stove and look at him with a smile.
“Dinner is done.”
>><<
Eddie sighed as he reclined on the couch.
“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a home-cooked meal like that?” He asked with a laugh. You smile.
“So, you liked it?” You ask.
“Are you kidding me? That shit was delicious.” He proclaimed. You stood up and collected both of your bowls, placing them into the sink before standing in front of him.
“I'm glad you liked it. Wanna get some sleep now? It’s super late.” You said. Eddie checked his watch and nodded.
“Wow, you’re right. It is late. Am I taking the couch?” He asks. You shake your head.
“Nah, you can take my bed, I’ll take the couch.” You reply. Eddie raises his eyebrows.
“Wait what? Seriously?” He asks, sitting up straight.
“Well, yeah. The couch is super uncomfortable.”
“So why are you sleeping on it?”
“Because I don’t want you sleeping on it.”
“So… neither of us should sleep on it.”
“Where am I gonna sleep then? The floor?” You asked with a laugh.
“We could both sleep on the bed.” Eddie was quick in his response, almost too quick. You were a bit surprised by this and felt that funny feeling start to well up in your stomach again.
“We could… If you’re okay with that.” You say, trying to sound nonchalant. He shrugged, averting eye contact.
“I am if you are.” He says. You smile.
“Yeah. You can go to the room and get comfortable, I have to use the restroom so I’ll be there soon.” You say, stretching before walking down the hall.
Eddie did as you said, going into your room as you went into the restroom. He laid down on your bed, sidling under the covers and finally relaxing for the first time in a long time. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until he was resting. As he held the blanket close to him, he inhaled. It smelled like your cologne. He’d only ever caught gentle hints of it when you stood close to him, but now, he could smell it as clear as day, which was so soothing.
What has been going on with him lately? He’d only known you for two days, and everything about you seemed to make him act a fool. He needed to get himself together, he had bigger things to worry about now. Not how good your cologne smelled or how comfortable your shirt fit him or how melodic your voice sounded or how you were honestly starting to look like the perfect man for him the more time he spent with you. 
You walked back into the room, hairbrush in hand as you raked it through your tangled locks. Once you finished you placed it on your nightstand. You smiled at the sight of him all cozy and comfortable in your bed. He seemed like he was already starting to drift off to sleep. God knows he needed it.
“I can’t stand the feeling of sleeping in pants, do you mind?” You asked, hands hovering over the button of your jeans. He raised his eyebrows but shrugged.
“Go ahead.” He muttered before breaking into a yawn. You chuckled.
“Sleep Eddie. You need it.” You replied, gently crawling into your bed so you didn’t disturb him. He looked at you with half-lidded eyes and gave you a sleepy smile. 
“Thanks. For everything.” He mumbled before closing his eyes. You opened your mouth to respond but seeing as it seemed he’d already gone to sleep. You opted for a fond smile as you stared at him for longer than you would’ve liked to admit. The funny feeling in your stomach and heart was back, but you didn’t fight it this time. You laid with it as he laid with you, your hand only centimeters away from his. So close, yet so far. But that was okay. He was there, and that was okay.
>><<
The horrible sound of bones crunching met his ears as he stared up at her floating body. Blood was pouring from her empty eye sockets but it still felt like she was staring right at him. Into his very soul. Despite her broken jaw, she spoke to him.
“It’s all your fault, Eddie.” She whispered. Her voice was so hoarse it didn’t even sound like her own.
“No…” Eddie pleaded.
“It’s all your fault!” She was yelling now. Eddie collapsed to the floor and began to cry, covering his ears in an attempt to block out her screaming. He rocked himself back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably.
Eddie sat up with a fervor, his hands shaking violently as he swung his head around to look at the room. His eyes trained on the ceiling, waiting to see if she’d appear there. It was so hard to breathe and he was so fucking scared. He was goddamn terrified.
All the motion had woken you up. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and planned on asking what was wrong, but quickly sat up when you heard Eddie crying. You could feel his body tremors on the mattress due to how violent they were. What had happened to him while you were sleeping?
“Eddie? Eddie, what’s wrong?” You whispered. You kept your voice low and avoided touching him in case it would upset him further.
“She was there… She was there and she- s-she-”
“Who was there Eddie?” You asked.
“Chrissy! She said it was all my fault and-” It was hard to catch the rest of his words over his sobs. 
“Hey hey hey i-it’s okay! Chrissy isn’t here. None of that was your fault alright? Just breath. Can I touch you?” You asked gently, hovering your hands over his shoulders. He nodded something no short of desperation, and you wrapped one of your arms around his back, the other holding his arms. “It’s okay Eddie. It’s okay…” You whispered. He cried harder as he clutched fistfuls of your shirt with an iron-tight grip. His entire body was shaking in your arms. You weren’t sure what else you could do other than whisper that he’d be alright and gently rub his back. 
“You’re safe here, okay? You’re safe…”
>><<
Eddie woke up, the smell of your cologne much stronger than it was when he’d gone to sleep. He opened his eyes and yawned, taking a few seconds to blink away the tiredness before realizing he was laying on your chest. His arms were wrapped around your midsection and yours laying atop his back. 
He vaguely remembered what happened. Having that horrible nightmare, waking up in tears, and you soothing him back to sleep, but he didn’t remember this level of intimacy. Had he really fallen asleep clutching onto you like this? Furthermore, you let him?
He pulled his arms out from under you, trying his best not to disturb you, but it was fruitless. You slowly began to stir, stretching your limbs and shaking them gently in an attempt to wake yourself up further. You looked at Eddie and gave him a small smile, remembering the events of the night clearly.
“You alright?” You ask quietly. Eddie gives a half-hearted laugh before leaning against the headboard of your bed.
“Yeah. Sorry, you had to see me like that. How embarrassing.” He muttered. You chuckled and sat up as well, bumping your shoulder into his as you did so.
“You went through something traumatic Eddie. Don't be so hard on yourself.” You replied. He looked at his hands which he’d folded in his lap.
“I was acting like a baby though. Crying and shaking? I mean seriously-”
“Eddie.” You cut him off. He looked at you with those big brown eyes that made you weak in the knees.
“You’re okay. I mean it.” You say, placing your hand on his shoulder. He stared at you, his cheeks dusting that familiar shade of pink that seemed to be happening much more often now that he was around you. He looked away, a small smile on his face.
“Just don’t tell Henderson, alright? I don’t want him to think I’ve gone soft.” He says. You laugh.
“Deal.”
>><<
A few days passed and you found yourself growing much closer to Eddie. You bonded over music and books, played board games, and marathoned some of your favorite movies. The more time you spent with him, the harder you seemed to fall for him, and unbeknownst to you, it was the same for him.
Every time he looked at you from across the couch he felt his heart beat faster than it ever had in his life. He had crushes before, but none like this. None that would've given him a second glance, let alone let him stay in their house as he was suspected of murder.
You were reclined on the couch, your dog wedged between you two. Eddie had grown quite fond of him, and it was mutual. (D/n) loved having another person around to play with. It started to make you feel like you were your own little family. But a loud knock on your door disturbed that peace, causing (D/n) to start barking.
“Who is it?” You called. 
“It’s Dustin! Let us in!” He yelled through the door. You sighed and got up from your comfortable position, unlocking the door for the others to pile in. But there were two faces you didn’t quite recognize.
“Hold on there kid. Mind catching me up on these two characters?” You asked.
“Oh, right. (Y/n), this is Nancy and Lucas, Nancy and Lucas this is (Y/n). We’re all caught up now? Great, good, because shit just hit the fan.” Dustin replies. You raise your eyebrows, and Eddie adjusts his sitting from being reclined to attentive listening.
“On our way here, we drove by Rick’s place. It was swarmed with cops and reporters. Patrick was Vecna’d last night at Lover’s Lake. Jason managed to convince them that it was you and they’ve just released your name to the public.” His words come out so fast that you almost don’t register what he’s saying.
“Shit. shit… fuck man!” Eddie yells, standing up and beginning to pace the room.
“But, there’s a bright side to this,” Dustin says.
“Oh is there Henderson? Please do enlighten me.” Eddie replies sarcastically.
“Another thing I noticed on my way here was that my compass was slipping the further east we went.”
“And we’ve seen this before.” The one named Lucas chimed in.
“Mhmm. In the presence of a stronger electromagnetic field, the needle will deflect towards that power.” Dustin says.
“Meaning…?” You ask.
“There’s another gate.” He answers.
“So what do we do now?”
“We follow the compass to the gate,” Dustin replies excitedly. 
“Eddie’s still a wanted man. What do you expect us to do? Go for a nice stroll in the woods?” You ask.
“This little steel capsule might be the key to saving both Max and Eddie. What say you Eddie the Banished?” Dustin asks. Everyone fixes their eyes on Eddie, even you. You’re not sure what you’re hoping his answer is.
“I say you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor, which, if I’m totally straight with you, I think is a really bad idea. But, uh, the shire… the shire is burning. So Mordor it is.” Dustin excitedly opens the front door, waiting for Eddie to walk out. You walk to step out after him but pause to speak before you do.
“For the record, if anything happens to him, you’re all dead meat. Got it?” You say. A couple of shocked faces dance around the room, but there are nods of agreement. Once your gone, Steve looks at Dustin.
“Since when does he care so much about Eddie?” He asks. Dustin smirks.
“Young love Steve. Young love.” He replies as he pats his arm. Steve makes a noise of shock as Dustin walks out of the house.
“A little bit of elaboration would be nice.”
>><<
“Dustin? Can you slow down? Dustin?” Eddie called out. You felt like sheep, blindly following this kid through the woods.
“I think we’re getting close,” Dustin yelled over his shoulder. In his distraction of telling you so, he didn’t notice that he was about to walk straight into Lover’s Lake. Eddie grabbed his backpack and placed his arm in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.
“Watch your step big guy.” He said. It took everyone else a little bit to catch up, but once you did, you sighed.
“Oh, man. You gotta be shitting me.” Steve groaned.
“Yeah. I thought these woods looked familiar.” Eddie replied.
“Lover’s Lake.”
“This is confounding,” Dustin whispered.
“There’s a gate in Lover’s lake?” Max asked.
“Whenever the Demogorgon attacked, it always left an opening. Maybe Vecna’s the same way.” Nancy suggested.
“Yeah, only one way to find out,” Steve replied. Eddie sighed and cracked his neck, walking down the shoreline. He pulled the tarp off the boat which seemed to be an integral part of this story. Steve and Eddie began to push it onto the water.
“Easy I… I said easy, man.” Steve said.
“Sorry, dude,” Eddie mumbled. Steve holds his hand out to help Robin into the boat but she opts to use their heads instead. 
“Yeah that works too.” Steve mumbles. Eddie climbs in after, offering a hand to help you in. You snicker.
“How gentlemanly.” You reply sarcastically as you climb in. Nancy quickly follows behind you. Dustin is right on her heels, but Eddie flicks his hat downward and pushes him away.
“Hey, hey, hey, you trying to sink us? This thing holds four people tops, okay?”
“It’s better this way, okay? You guys stay here with Max. Keep an eye out for trouble.” Nancy said.
“You keep an eye out!” Dustin rebuttals. Nancy furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
“It’s my goddamn theory!” Dustin argues.
“You heard Nance.” 
“Who put her in charge?”
“I did,” Robin states, almost matter-of-factly. Dustin looks at her confused while Nancy holds out her hand.
“Compass.” She demands. Dustin begrudgingly forks it over as he walks back to stand next to the other younger teenagers. Steve stands up and tosses his backpack before pushing the boat into the water and hopping in.
“You said four!” Dustin protests.
“Sorry,” Steve whispers.
“Bedtime at nine kiddos! Miss you already!” Robin yells. You chuckled.
Robin and Eddie use the oars to propel the boat on the water while Nancy watches the compass. You quietly begin to whistle a tune, one that Eddie recognized. The same one you sang the first night he stayed at your house. He was sure his face was flushed, but he didn't mind since it was shrouded in the darkness of the night.
”Whoa, whoa, woah, woah, slow down. Slow down, guys.” Nancy called out. Robin and Eddie stopped rowing, turning around to look at her. You all gathered around the compass, staring at it as the needle went crazy. You heard the walkie-talkie chime with Dustin’s voice.
“Guys, what’s going on? Come on, talk to me. What’s going on?” He asked. Robin grabbed the walkie and spoke into it.
“Uh, Dustin, your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capitol ‘aah!’” She replied. Steve began to pull off his shoes and socks.
“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy asked. 
“Yeah, seriously man, nobody wants to see those. Or smell them.” You say, fanning his feet away from you. Steve rolls his eyes.
“Somebody's gotta go down and check this thing out. Unless one of you four can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then… It’s gotta be me. No complaints, alright?” He asks.
“Hey, I'm not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.” Eddie replies as he fishes a grocery bag from his battle vest pocket. Steve pulls his shirt off and you roll your eyes.
“Show off.” You mumble. Eddie looks up at you and smiles. 
“Tell me about it.” He whispers before handing Steve the flashlight wrapped in the plastic bag safeguard.
“Hey. Good luck.” Eddie says. He pulls out a cigarette while Steve thanks him but Robin quickly grabs it and throws it in the lake.
“Steve?” Nancy calls out. He looks over his shoulder at her.
“Be careful.” She says. He nods before diving in.
“Gross.” You mumble, taking off your hoodie and bunching it up. You toss it in Eddie’s lap before laying your head onto it, reclining as comfortably as the small boat would allow. Eddie’s a bit surprised by this, looking down at you as if questioning why.
“Who knows how long he’ll be down there? Might as well get comfortable while I can.” You reply with a shrug. He relaxes a little but is still somewhat on edge.
“Where we at, Wheeler?” Robin asks.
“Closing in on a minute,” Nancy replies. She exhales and nods. More time passes as both of them stare intensely at the water, wondering when he’s gonna resurface. You, on the other hand, find yourself close to drifting off. You wouldn’t have expected it considering the high-stakes situation you were in, but something about laying in Eddie's lap made you feel safe enough to doze off. You were snapped out of that peace quickly though when Steve burst through the water gasping for air.
“I found it!” He exclaimed. You sat up and pulled your hoodie back on.
“You found it?” Nancy asked.
“I found it. Yeah. I found it.” He replied as he clutched onto the side of the boat. Robin smiles and grabs the walkie-talkie.
“Dustin you are a goddamn Einstein. Steve found the gate!” She spoke into it. She waited for a response, but nothing came. She furrows her eyebrows in confusion but disregards it when Steve starts talking.
“It’s pretty wild. It’s more of a snack-sized gate than the mama gate but still, it’s pretty damn big.” He says, almost out of breath. When his sentence finished, he dips back under the water, seemingly struggling against something. He pops back up with a look of confusion on his face before being pulled fully underwater.
“Steve!” Nancy calls out.
“No no! What the hell was that, man?” Eddie yelled.
“Nancy, really, what happened?” Robin asks, her voice filled with terror. Nancy stares at the water for a moment before she stands up. She looks like she’s going in after him.
“Wait, wait, wait. You’re not going in there, are you?” Eddie asks, grabbing her arm to stop her.
“Just wait here.” She demands.
“No Nancy!” Robin yells, but she’s already in the water.
“Goddamnit!” Eddie yells, running his fingers through his hair. Robin begins to perch herself on the edge of the boat.
“No no no no no no. What are you doing? She said wait.” Eddie protested.
“Yeah, I heard her.” She replies.
“She’s in charge.” 
“Are you kidding me? I made that shit up.” She says before plugging her nose and beginning to lean back.
“Don’t you go. Don’t you-” His words are cut off by the splash of Robin's body meeting the water.
“Goddamn it!” He bangs his open palms on the edge of the boat. You stand up, causing him to look at you.
“(Y/n), don’t even think about it!” He says. You smirk and hold out your hand to him.
“Come on, don’t make me do this alone.” You reply.
“Son of a bitch. This is so stupid. This is so stupid. This is so stupid.” He practically chants to himself, but he grabs your hand anyways. You dive into the water together, all while he’s stringing out profanities.
>><<
You all huddle under skull rock, shaking from fear and possibly hypothermia. After saving Steve from those creatures and running through the entire forest to hide from them, it was safe to say that you were exhausted. The screeching becomes more distant, and Robin is the first to peek her head out.
“Oh… okay. That was close.” She says.
“Yeah. Too close.” Eddie replies, his voice shaking with fear. As you begin to walk farther out, you hear steve mutter something. You turn your head and see him lean against the rock.
“Steve? Jesus.” Nancy says as she notices the same thing you had.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” He protests.
“No, no, no. You’re not. You’re losing blood. Come on, sit. Alright?” She coaxes him down He groans in pain as he removes his hand from the open wound. Robin kneels next to him as well.
“Okay. So the good news here is I’m pretty sure wooziness is not a common symptom of rabies. But if you start having hallucinations or muscle spasms or you start feeling aggressive, like you wanna punch me or something, then you should totally let me know, okay?”
“Robin.”
“Yeah?”
“I kinda wanna punch you.” He replied. Robin laughs.
“Sense of humor’s still intact. That’s a good sign.”
“Yeah…” He mumbles. Nancy finishes tearing off the piece of fabric that she needed to dress his wounds, so Robin steps away.
“You ready?” Nancy asks. 
“Yeah. Just do it.” Steve replies. She pushes the fabric against him and he stifles his groans. He locks his hands behind his head as she apologizes, doing her best to wrap the fabric around him properly.
“Too tight?” She asks.
“No, that’s good.” He replies. He lets out a few final grunts of pain before she finishes by tying it into a knot. You hear Eddie walk away from you, so you turn to see what he’s doing. He’s climbing up a rock, trying to get a better view of the land in front of him.
“So, uh, this place is like Hawkins, but with monsters and nasty shit?” He asks. Nancy helps Steve stand, putting his weight on her shoulders.
“Pretty much.” She replies. He nods and starts to walk back down, but Nancy stops him with a warning.
“Wait, watch out for the vines. It’s all a hivemind.”
“It’s all a what?”
“All the creepy crawlies around here dude. They’re like, one, or something. You’re stepping on a vine, you’re stepping on a bat, you’re stepping on Vecna.” Steve says.
“Shit,” Eddie replies, now very carefully stepping around the vines.
“But everything from our world is still here, right? Except people obviously?” Robin asks.
“As far as I understand it, yeah.” “So, theoretically, we could go to the police station and steal guns and grenades and whatever we need to blow up those bat things that are guarding the gate.” “I highly doubt the Hawkins PD has grenades, Robin. But guns, yeah, sure.”
“Well, we don’t have to go all the way downtown for guns. I have guns in my bedroom.” Nancy replied. Eddie finally manages to jump down from the rock.
“You, Nancy Wheeler, have guns, plural, in your bedroom?” He asks.
“Full of surprises, isn’t she?” 
“A Russian Makarov and a revolver.” She states.
“Yeah, you almost shot me with that one,” Steve says.
“You almost deserved it.” She replies. Eddie rolls his eyes and slips off his battle vest, tossing it at Steve.
“For your modesty, dude.” He says. You can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy culminate in your abdomen, but before you have time to even think about why that is, a loud rumbling shakes the earth. It’s so intense that you lose your balance, falling into Eddie as the others fall into each other as well. His arm falls onto your waist and you would've been flustered by the fact had you not been preoccupied with the earthquake. There was a loud snarling in the distance that sent chills down your spine.
“Yeah, so guns seem like a pretty good idea to me,” Eddie said.
“Yeah, me too.” You reply, realizing how close he is by how loud his voice is in your ear.
“So what are we waiting for?”
>><<
After the highs and lows of finding the wheeler house, realizing there were no guns because the upside down was three years stuck in the past, finding a way to contact the overworld, and biking seven miles to Eddie’s trailer, you were almost relieved when you saw that fleshy interdimensional portal on the ceiling. But something about the way it squelched and breathed as if it were alive made you have second thoughts.
“This is where Chrissy died. Like, right where she died.” Eddie said, looking over his shoulders at you and the others. You could tell there was a lot of pain in those memories.
“I think there’s something in there,” Robin replied, her eyes never leaving the ceiling. There was a crackling sound as the red barrier was pulling downward as if something were pushing it in. You felt your stomach go queasy at the sight.
“What the hell is that?” Eddie asked. Seconds after the question left his mouth, the gate popped open, the fleshy parts and vines all retreating into the ceiling. The sudden movement made all of you yelp in fear and back up, eyes still fixed on the now open gate. You exchanged worried glances with Eddie.
Steve slowly began to approach it, and you followed his lead, right behind Nancy and Robin. The steps you took toward it were slow and timid, waiting for the slightest sign of danger. Finally, as you got closer, you could see into it.
“No way,” Steve muttered. On the other side of the gate stood Dustin, Lucas, Max, and a little girl you didn’t recognize. Dustin had a huge smile plastered on his face, jumping on the balls of his feet.
“Hi there.” He said as he waved, prompting Lucas to do the same.
“Hi…” Nancy, Steve, and Robin replied. You were too shocked to speak.
“Holy shit, this is trippy,” Robin said.
“Tell me about it…” You mumbled. Dustin laughed again, excitedly looking at his friends before looking back up at you.
“Bada bada boom!” He exclaimed.
“Henderson, your childlike joy is refreshing, but could we maybe, I don’t know, figure out a way to get us the hell out of here!” Eddie shouted. Dustin stopped giggling and nodded.
“Right right sorry, Eddie.” The children began to disperse out of your view. You could hear shuffling and after a few minutes, Max and Lucas dropped a mattress below the portal. You raised your eyebrows at the state of it.
“Those stains are, uh… I dunno what those stains are.” Eddie said.
“Mmm,” Robin replied, a questioning look on her face. Dustin walked into view, a makeshift rope of tied-together sheets in hand.
“Not quite sure how these psychics are gonna work. But uh… here goes nothing.” He says as he throws it up through the portal, but once it meets your end it begins to cascade down.
“There we go. And if my theory is correct…” He says before removing his hands from the rope. It stays in its place, causing him to smile.
“Abracadabra.” He whispers.
“Holy shit,” Max says, looking up at the rope on your end.
“All right, pull on it! See if it holds!” Dustin shouts to your group. Robin looks around before grabbing onto the rope, giving it her best yank. She smiles and laughs incredulously.
“This is the craziest shit I’ve ever seen in my life. And I’ve seen some crazy shit.” The girl you don’t recognize says as she high-fives Dustin. You laugh.
“Starting to think that’s a common experience.” You reply. Robin grabs hold of the rope once again.
“Guess I’m the guinea pig.” She says as she begins to climb up the rope. The younger teens on the other side begin to disperse to make room for her on the landing pad. She grunted as she climbed upward, but once her head was on the other side, she fell onto her back on the mattress.
“Oh thank God. That was fun.” She said with a sigh of relief. You watch her grab Dustin’s hand to help pull her up. You look at the others, Nancy looking at Eddie, then you, then Steve, the other teenage boys looking at each other until somebody volunteers.
“All right, guess I’ll go,” Eddie says with a shrug as he approaches the rope. He grunts as he begins to climb it, inching his way back to the overworld. Finally, gravity takes hold and he falls onto the mattress. He sits up abruptly.
“That… was fun. Shit.” He says with a large smile before getting up.
“Don’t mind if I do.” You say, grabbing onto the rope. Climbing it felt reminiscent of gym class, which made you feel a bit queasy, but once your head passed that gap between the worlds, all the blood went rushing to your face and you felt like you were freefalling. You laughed as you began to cascade onto the mattress and blinked a few times once your back finally hit the surface. 
“(Y/n) approved.” You said as grabbed Eddie’s hand so he could help you up.
>><< 
You sat wedged between Dustin and Eddie, on your way to what could very well be the end of your life. Thanks to Nancy being Vecna’d and that trip to the War Zone, you were as well prepared as you could’ve been, but that didn’t quiet the loud thrumming of your heart, or the sinking feeling growing in the pit of your stomach.
The car slowed in front of the dilapidated Creel house to drop off the Sinclairs and Max. And then it kept driving. You looked out the window, watching their bodies become smaller as you drove further and further away. The sun was dipping lower into the sky as the drive continued. It was nightfall by the time you reached your destination. Nancy stood up from her seat and turned to look at every one.
“Okay. I wanna run through it one more time. Phase one.”
“We meet Erica at the playground. She’ll signal Max and Lucas when we’re ready.”
“Phase two.”
“Max baits Vecna. He’ll go after her, which’ll put him in his trance.”
“Phase three?”
“Me, Eddie, and (Y/n) will draw the bats away,” Dustin replied. Eddie nudges you in the side with a smile before giving Dustin a noogie, an oddly pure moment despite the given circumstances.
“Four.”
“We head into Vecna’s hopefully newly bat-free lair and… flambe,” Robin replies, sloshing around the Molotov cocktail in her hand.
“Nobody moves on to the next phase until we’ve all copied. Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what. Got it?” Nancy asks. You all chime in with ‘got it’s before dispersing and piling out of the RV. You trek through the small span of woods in front of you before making it to the trailer park and shortly after, Eddie’s trailer. Once you're inside, you’re relieved to see the makeshift rope is still intact.
“Be careful,” Dustin says.
“Thanks, buddy. Here goes nothing.” Steve replies as he begins to climb the rope. Since there’s no mattress on the other end, he’s extra careful to land on his feet, which he does somewhat majestically. Robin sarcastically makes noises of praise.
“What does he want us to do, applaud?” She asks. It takes Steve a few seconds to bring the upside-down mattress under the portal, giving those athletically challenged a safer landing strategy.
“Alright, let’s go.” He calls up to you. Nancy is the first go, Robin kneeling next to her to provide even more assistance. She nods at her before climbing and subsequently falling onto the mattress. After Nancy, Eddie drops down his gear and follows right after. Then you, then Robin, then Dustin, who takes far too long to stand up which results in him being pulled to his feet by you and Eddie. You begin to walk out of the trailer right behind Steve, with the rest of your team in tow. He turns back to you.
“Hey, guys, listen. If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort. Okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna. Don’t try to be cute, or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just-”
“Decoys. Don’t worry. You can be the hero Steve.” Dustin cuts him off.
“Absolutely. I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.” Eddie says with a laugh as he looks between you and Dustin. You feign offense as you nudge him in the side. Steve hesitates for a moment before turning around and walking toward Robin and Nancy. Eddie takes a step toward him.
“Hey, Steve?” He calls out. Steve turns around.
“Make him pay.” He says. They nod at each other before Steve’s team begins to walk off. 
“Now that all that mushy gushy bullshit is over, it’s time for the fun part.” You say, hitting Eddie’s stomach with your arm. He laughs as you make your way into his bedroom. Once he’s in, he stops.
“Jesus christ… It’s like… She was destined for an alternate dimension…” He mumbles as he approaches his guitar.
“What do you say, guys?” He asks, picking it up from where it hung.
“Are you ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world?” He asks, turning to face the two of you.
“That a rhetorical question?” Dustin asks. Eddie smiles and puts the strap over his shoulder.
“Let’s do it.” He says, swinging it over his back. As if you didn’t find him hot enough as it is.
>><<
You waited tentatively for the crackle of the walkie-talkie to sound and tell you when to move forward. Finally, after what seemed like hours, you heard Robin’s voice on the other end.
“She’s in. Move on to phase three.”
“Copy that. Initiating phase three. Let’s hope they hear this.” Dustin said as he pulled the extension cord up to plug in the amp and subsequently turned them to their full volume. He looks at Eddie, who grabs the pick from around his neck.
“Chrissy, this is for you.” He mutters, mostly to himself, before he starts to strum. You recognize the beat immediately.
Dustin is crouched beside you as you lean one hand on the amp, enjoying Eddie’s impeccable performance of one of your favorite songs. You would’ve enjoyed it more, had it not been for the predicament you were in. Dustin checks his binoculars a few times, but this time, he calls out to Eddie.
“We gotta lock down in T minus 30 seconds.” He yells over the noise. Eddie nods, focusing back on playing his guitar.
“T-minus 20!” Dustin shouts. You look over at Eddie, who’s now shredding the guitar solo, which you wish you could appreciate more, but the screeching bats inching closer in proximity make it difficult. Dustin begins to count down from 10, and Eddie finishes right as he reaches one. The bats are way too close for comfort, so you shove Dustin in the direction of the truck you used to get on the roof. He begins to climb down, you following and Eddie just behind you.
They’re shouting incoherently at each other as you rush into the gated area, which Eddie shuts just in the nick of time. You watch the bats attempt to claw at you through the fencing, but they have no luck. You give a relieved half laugh half sigh, but it’s short-lived as more begin to fly toward you.
“Hurry! Come on!” Dustin calls to the two of you. Once you’re inside, you lean against the wall, panting heavily.
“Dude. Most metal ever!” Dustin yells, causing both him and Eddie to jump with excitement. You laugh and can’t help but smile at the two fondly. They take a few minutes to bask in their excitement before finally winding down and walking to the portal. There’s a thump against the trailer wall that makes you turn your head. Then another. And another. And then they’re not stopping. The bats outside seem to be thrashing their bodies against the walls. Hard. But then, just as soon as it started, it stopped.
“Hey, dipshits! Give up that easy!” Dustin yells.
“Is that really necessary?” Eddie asks.
“Both of you shut up!” You hiss. They stop bickering long enough for you to hear the bats have moved.
“They’re on the roof,” Eddie says, looking upward. Dustin begins to string out profanities as you all follow the sound of the bats traveling. You fix your eyes on a small circular vent.
“Uh oh.” You whisper.
“They can’t get in through there, can they?” Dustin asks, but right as the words leave his mouth, the demobat breaches the flimsy metal. It screeches, and the three of you begin to stab at it furiously with your spears. After a few seconds, Eddie backs away, much to Dustin’s protests. 
“Get out of the way! Get out of the way!” He calls to the two of you. You back up just in time for Eddie to throw down a chair and wedge his nail shield into the ceiling.
“Holy shit… Holy shit.” He says in between pants.
“Nice,” Dustin says.
“Thanks.” He replies, giving him a high five.
“Are there other vents?” Dustin asks. Eddie seems to realize his answer is not the one you’d hope for as he rushes to his bedroom. You all begin to run toward it, and as soon as you enter, bats come flying through the vent on the floor. He pushes you and Dustin out, shutting the door as quickly as he can.
“That’s not gonna hold!” Dustin yells as you back away.
“No shit genius!” You yell back.
“Let’s go!” Eddie yells. Dustin begins to climb the rope. You’re quick to follow, not sparing another second. Once you're on the other side, you look at Eddie who starts to climb but stops halfway.
“Eddie, what are you doing? You have to hurry!” You yell at him. He stares at you and then at the door before dropping back onto the ground.
“Eddie! Come on man!” Your shouts seem to fall on deaf ears as he walks away to grab a spear.
“Eddie don’t you fucking dare! Eddie-” He cuts the rope, severing the way to travel between the worlds. He moves the mattress and you can feel tears begin to well in your eyes. Dustin is watching this unfold with you.
“Eddie, what are you doing?” He asks. Eddie looks at the two of you with a smile on his face.
“I’m buying more time.” He says before walking out of your view. Dustin looks at you as if he’s asking what to do and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know. You’d never felt this way before. Scared and lost and heartbroken all at the same time. You couldn’t breathe.
“No fucking way. You’re not fucking running this time Eddie.” You say as the tears fall out of your eyes, but you wipe them away ferociously. You grab the chair and set it right underneath the center of the portal. Standing on it, you’re just tall enough to reach it when you jump. So you do just that. Grunting as you pull yourself through, you hang on for dear life when the gravitational pull hits. You sigh and swing back and forth so you can roll when you let go. It’s messy, and you're gonna be left bruised, but it’s enough to have gotten you down. You pull the mattress back, giving Dustin a safer way to land than you had.
“Come on!” You yell, offering a hand to help him up. Once he’s on his feet, you rush out the door, him following close behind you. You run as fast as you can, pushing yourself farther than you ever have before. You can see the bats swarming him. God, why did you have to fall in love with an idiot? 
You see them wrap around his legs and arms, rendering him defenseless. More begin to pile onto him and you can only imagine what they’re doing. Tears blur your vision as you start to run even faster, faster than you thought was in your capability. You pull the machete you’d nabbed from the war zone off your back as you were finally in distance. You swung it at the bats in your path but saved your deadliest blows for the ones gnawing on his torso.
Dustin was close behind you, picking off those that he could as you fought with the ones latched onto Eddie. He seemed to recognize you, a bloody smile on his face. You kept swinging and crying and fighting, all at the same time. It seemed like an impossible fight that you swore you would’ve lost, but then, out of nowhere, the bats all fell from the sky.
You dropped your machete and began to cry harder. You were going to hold Eddie but found his wounds held a higher precedent. You wiped away your tears in an effort to see better as Dustin kneeled next to him as well.
“Bad, huh?” He asked.
“No. You’re gonna be fine.” Dustin replied.
“Damn fucking right you will.” You yelled, pulling off your hoodie. You sliced through the fabric with the pocket knife you had and began to tie it tightly around his torso.
“You’re not dying on me that easy Munson. Don’t even fucking think about it.” You reply. He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off by placing his arm around your shoulder.
“Whatever sappy shit you’ve got to say, you can save it, 'cause I already told you. You’re not fucking dying today.” You say as you stand up, carrying his body weight as well. He groans in pain.
“Help me out here Henderson.” You say, staggering to hold him up by yourself. Dustin rushes to your side and grabs Eddie’s other arm, splitting his weight between the two of you as you hobble back through the upside-down.
>><<
Eddie sat up in bed, gasping and looking around, then clutching his sides in pain. He recognized the room he was in, but he wasn’t sure why. The door to his right creaked open, and you walked in with what looked like medical supplies in your arms.
“(Y/n).” His voice was hoarse as he spoke your name. You were surprised to see that he was awake, and felt tears prick the corners of your eyes,
“Finally you’re up. I was starting to think you were holding out on me.” You said, trying to act as if you weren’t bursting at the seams with excitement. He chuckled.
“Why am I here?” He asked. You shrugged and sat next to him on your bed, pulling the covers off of his body. He hadn’t noticed he was shirtless until he felt the cold chill nip at his body.
“Would you rather be at Hawkins High with the rest of the town? I’m sure they’d all love to see their darling Edward, wanted murder suspect.” You reply. He smiles.
“Guess you’re right.” He says as you begin to unwrap his bandages.
“Someone’s getting a bit handsy.” He teases. You roll your eyes and finish unwrapping the bloodied bandages before starting to wrap him with new ones.
“That was really stupid, by the way.” You say.
“What?”
“Running into that swarm. You could’ve been killed.” You scolded. Eddie sighs.
“They needed more time and even if I had been… What difference would it have made?” He said with a shrug. You felt tears well in your eyes again.
“What difference would it have made? Just because Jason got a few hicks to be against you doesn’t mean everybody was. There are still people who care about you and love you, Eddie. I fucking love you! Do you really think I just ran back into that hell dimension because it wouldn’t have made a difference whether you lived or died?” You said angrily, pulling his bandages around him tighter.
“Wait wait wait. Do my ears deceive me? Did you just say you love me?” Eddie asked. You were so frustrated that you couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a kiss.
At first, you were angry, pressing your lips against his just to get him to shut up for once in his goddamn life but then, as his hands gently held onto you as if you were a delicate piece of fine china, you broke. Tears began to stream down your face as it all hit you at once. You needed this. You needed him.
He pulled away, far too soon for your liking, and stared at you as his chest heaved to catch his breath. He blinked his beautiful brown eyes and smiled his stupid grin. There he was, in all his glory, and you’d just kissed him in a fit of passion and anger at his pure idiocy.
“If I get a kiss like that every time I act a fool, then I’ll have to remember to risk my life more often.” He whispers. You laugh and wipe your face of your tears, shaking your head before standing up.
“Eddie Munson. You have changed my life.” You say with a laugh.
“Then I guess we’re even. Cause I think you saved mine.” He replied. You gathered the bloody bandages and began to walk to the door. Your hand was just above the knob when you paused at the sound of Eddie’s voice once again.
“If I ever beat these charges and things ever go back to the way they were… or at least as much as they can… I’d like to take you on a normal date.” “If I liked normal, I never would’ve found you.”
“Then can I take you on a not normal date? Affective immediately?” He asks. You laugh and open your bedroom door.
“Tell you what Eddie. You heal from the damage those hellbats did to your stomach, and I’ll think about it. Deal?”
“Deal.”
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