#supercomms

[mike-el]

Ally’s Top 10 ST Characters ↳ #4. Steve Harrington

#strangerthingsedit #strangerthingsedits #dailystrangerthings #tvstrangerthings #tvedit #steveharringtonedit #dailyflicks #tvfilm #userstream #steve harrington #stranger things #usershaysh #userkaisa #nessa007 #supercomms #userkate #useradie #hawkinslibrary #*mine #top10stcharacters

[nessa007]

Stranger Things 4 + parallels

#stranger things #stranger things 4 spoilers #strangerthingsedit #contentbynessa #userlukeskywalker #useradie #userdcbicki #userkenny #hawkinslibrary #usermady #strangerthingsedits #supercomms #useroptional #usertelevision #cinemapix #cinematv #filmtvdaily #dailyflicks

[alliesway]

as she should.

#byler #st4 spoilers #st4 vol2 #stranger things #max mayfield #not mine #made by supercomms

[lovebugism]

hi! not sure if you’re still taking requests but if u are may i request the prompt “it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.” with reader comforting steve? tysm <3

bug's blurb sleepover (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)!

Steve tends to feel things really, really deeply.

When Nancy called him bullshit at a Halloween party and ran off with the weird kid from chemistry class a day later, he felt like it was the end of the world. His world, at least. 

He thought it was going to stick with him for the rest of his life — that she was right, that he really was bullshit, and that that truth would haunt him forever. It did. It does. It lurks over his shoulder sometimes, like a shadow or a sleeping dragon.

And when Robin’s mad at him, like mad mad, it makes him feel like dying. 

One time he overestimated how tired he was after a shift and forgot to pick Robin up after band practice. He was startled awake from his nap out of nowhere, like his brain knew he’d done something wrong, and realized he was supposed to drive her home over an hour ago. 

He found her standing with her trumpet case under the awning in a futile attempt to hide from the pouring rain. She didn’t talk to him for days — not during the drive, not at work the next day, not until he was milliseconds from groveling at her feet for her forgiveness.

But it’s different when he’s happy. He’s got you and he’s got Dustin, and he loves the two of you so much it feels like he might burst sometimes. Adoration spills from his pores like so many little rays of sunshine, leaves him a grinning and gushing thing in the place of a teenage boy. 

It’s so much worse with you, though. Because sometimes he feels like his heart beats only for you — that it follows the rhythm of your pulse, that it will stop when yours does. 

He can taste every word that spills from your mouth, the one’s coated in venom and honey alike. He can hear every sound of your soul, too. It’s the crackles of an old record player when you’re content, autumn leaves crunching when you’re angry, and the sounds of a deep, deep ocean when you’re sad.

You’re embedded into every fiber of his being. You’ve entwined yourself with him without even realizing it, tucked yourself into the outer regions of his bleeding heart with a fuzzy blanket and a good book — no sign of leaving any time soon.

He loves you hard, too hard. So hard there’s no breath without you.

So when Vecna almost kills you, it feels a little like his life is ending.

He watches you float in midair, his feet still stuck on the ground, totally helpless. 

Tears spill from your glazed-over eyes and glitter beneath streams of moonlight. Your body is slack, but your fingers tremble and your brows twitch and your chin quivers. You’re not all there, but you can feel every ounce of fear like an ice-cold bath, painful and numbing all at once. Because you know that you’re going to die. And that there’s nothing anyone else can do to stop it.

Dustin shouts for help into his supercomm, begs for Max to bring her walkman or steal the nearest boombox they see and bring it with them to Lover’s Lake. They’re too far away, though, on the other side of town in Nancy’s too slow Station Wagon picking up more hunting supplies to kill the son of a bitch trying to kill you. He knows they won’t make it in time.

Steve shakes your shoulders and shouts in your face, but you still don’t wake. He keeps a hold of you until you’re out of his reach entirely — rising and rising and rising until you’re six feet off the ground. Then he’s just begging, shouting pleas up at you, at god, at Vecna — the shriveled skin creep doing this to you. 

“Please,” he shouts to everyone and no one all at once. “Please, just— you gotta wake up, okay? I’ll be better, I’ll be so much better, I promise. I’ll listen to all the music you like, watch all the movies you want — even the ones that suck — I’ll be a better boyfriend, okay? You just— You need to wake up!”

You don’t. 

You just keep on crying, like you can hear him in whatever world Vecna’s sucked you into. Eyes fluttering, neck jerking, lips trembling. You succumb completely to the monster’s curse.

It’s Eddie that saves you.

He rushes to the stolen R.V. for his guitar, the one Steve said made him look like he was overcompensating for something, the one that’s about to save your life. “What’s her favorite song?” the boy urges as he slips the strap over his head with pale and trembling fingers.

Steve looks over at his shoulder at him. It’s hard to see through the stinging tears. “Wh— What—” He can’t form words. Or thoughts, really. The only thing going through his head is that you’re about to die, that he’s about to lose you forever. It clouds his mind like thick black smoke.

“Her favorite song?” Eddie snaps. “What is it?”

He scrambles to answer. “Uh, it’s uh— it’s Take— Take On Me… Do you know that one?”

“No,” the boy answers honestly. “But I can try.”

That’s all they can do for now. Try. Hope.

He puts his fingers to the strings, trying to find the right placements, but it’s hard when you don’t know how to play the song and you’re shaking that you’re fucking freezing. Eddie’s forced to play it by ear and tells Steve that it won’t sound exactly right and that it won’t be loud without his amp. 

It takes him a moment to find the melody, but Steve hears it the second it comes — the synth-y da-da-da-dum, da-da-dah, da-da-da-da-dum’s that were practically engrained in his psyche after he heard it on the radio the millionth time.

You weren’t as afflicted by the earworm as he was. You loved it. 

The song came out the year the two of you started dating, so all he heard for months was that catchy beat and even catchier falsetto. You played it on the jukebox when you went to the diner, popped the tape into your radio whenever he was over at your place, requested for it to be played virtually wherever you went.

You hear the song from where you’re stuck in your own head. The strums of the guitar are quiet and a little out of tune, but the uncanny notes make sense when you’re trapped in a world that isn’t really your world. Suddenly you don’t see Vecna or his claw in your face — just Steve, Steve, Steve.

He’s with you at the diner with whipped cream on his chin, making fun of you for singing to the song so off-key. He’s with you in your childhood bedroom, spinning you around and singing all the high notes with you. He’s with you at Enzo’s, the fanciest place in Hawkins for your anniversary, and slips the mini-orchestra a hundred-dollar bill to play the song for you.

Suddenly, you’re on the ground again — back in Hawkins — and gasping for breath in his arms. You can’t see him from where he’s got his face tucked into your neck, but you can feel the scarily rapid beat of his heart and the way it matches your own.

Steve sobs into you, uncaring about how loud he is or how his snot and tears stain your t-shirt. Because he almost fucking lost you. And, for a split second, he tried to think of what a life without you would look like. He quickly came up short. There was nothing — no light, no sound, no music — just darkness. A void. 

Sometimes, he thinks he would’ve died with you that night.

Vecna is dead within the next twenty-four hours after the fact. You and Nancy take turns shooting bullets in the pale patchy skin of his chest where his heart’s supposed to be while Steve and Robin throw hand-made bombs in his direction. He trips and stumbles out the window while the rotting basement erupts into flames. There’s nothing left but ashes.

Steve doesn’t feel a thing for a little while after that, just the acute urge to protect the group of you even though the boogeyman is long gone. 

He doesn’t let go of you for days, always holding onto some part of you, because he’s terrified of you slipping away again. 

He lets Dustin sleep at his place when the boy asks, but it’s for his own peace of mind more than anything else. He doesn’t let the boy out of his sight until his mom gets concerned about him. 

He drives forty-five minutes to the hospital every day for two weeks with you so you can visit Max and Lucas, always with two peanut butter jelly sandwiches for them — just in case.

He’s on auto-pilot for a while. He just keeps on taking care of everyone else because it distracts him from himself — from his own inner turmoil, from the horrors he saw that night, from the boogeyman still in his closet.

It takes you a month for you to tell him what you saw. You were a lot like him in that way, still trying to hide from it all. You would’ve been more than happy if you could squish your great big problem into a tiny little ball that you could stomp underneath your feet and forget about completely. 

But that’s not how life works. 

The thing just swells and swells and swells until it takes everything in you to stay sane.

You sit Steve down on his bed and curl into his lap — knees to your chest, head tucked beneath his chin. And you tell him about it. Everything.

You tell him that Vecna showed you Brad, the boyfriend you had before Steve. It was a replay of the last night you saw him parked at Lover’s Lake, the very same place you had been when Vecna almost took you. You’re sitting in his passenger seat and he’s trying to feel you up. “Billy’s girlfriend lets him fuck her all the time,” he gripes when you swat his hand from your thigh.

“Then maybe go fuck Billy’s girlfriend,” you shoot back. 

It’s the last thing you’d ever said to him before storming off and catching the late bus back home. He went missing the next day; his car still there, but no sign of the boy himself.

Vecna shows you everything you’d been making yourself sick over for years, tells you exactly what happened to him that night.

A demogorgon appears in thin air and snatches the boy, takes him to the Upside Down like he’s some kind of light night snack. The thing doesn’t eat him, though, just plays with its food for a while until it gets bored and lets him rot. Brad was down there, for days, beggingfor someone to save him. Help never came, though. Just the slow, slow hand of death. 

“You never even looked for him…” you recite the words Vecna said to you, voice much softer than his cruel baritone one. “You let him rot down there while you threw yourself at a boy that didn’t even want you…”

Steve eyes squeeze shut then, like he’s trying to hide from your words. It’s about as effective as those idiots in horror movies who try to hide under their bedsheets from demons.

You sought refuge in Steve that night and many others, when Brad was acting especially douchebag-y. It was innocent at first. He was your friend. But somewhere down the line, you realized that you had bigger feelings for him than you ever did for your boyfriend. Steve, meanwhile, was still caught in the web of his complicated feelings for Nancy.

It wasn’t until you got kidnapped by Russian soldiers that he realized how much he loved you.

There’s just something about the end of the world that makes a person see clearly again.

Everything seems to hit him exactly a week later. 

He’d done a pretty good job at hiding it all — the nightmares, the panic attacks, the sleepless nights. He hid that all from you because you were recovering too. He didn’t think it was fair to dump all his hurt on you while you were still trying to get back to normal.

You noticed it very quickly, though, that Steve didn’t seem to be very affected by any of it. 

He was so nonchalant about everything, the kind of casual only a person who was aching could pull off. 

And he’d get real reserved at times, uncharacteristically quiet, and you’d ask him if he was okay. He’d scoffed and say he was fine —of course I’m okay, what do you mean? — while his cheek speckled with red and he blinked back glassy tears. 

You’d try to hug him and he’d let you, but kept shrugging off your concern — I’m fine, babe. I promise. I’m not the one who almost died.

Steve did that a lot. Made it seem like his problems didn’t mean as much because they weren’t as big as yours or Max’s or Eddie’s. He convinced himself that they didn’t. Why should he be upset when he didn’t have to meet the monster face to face or live through something traumatic all over again? What does he have to cry about?

But when he sleeps all he sees in you — in that spot at Lover’s Lake, succumbing to Vecna’s curse, while the rest of them try like hell to bring you back. In his nightmares, they never do. He watches your bones break one by one, piercing cracks in the quiet night that he can feel in his chest, before you fall limply to the ground again.

He wakes with a gasping breath, the same way you had all the time ago. You’re sleeping peacefully beside him, hair wild and face smushed into your pillow, but he can’t seem to get the vision out of his head — of your mangled body and sucked-out sockets. He stumbles off to the bathroom on tired and trembling legs.

You wake to the door slamming shut and stir at the sound of the faucet turning on. 

Light spills from the crack underneath the door, bright in the darkness of your bedroom. You watch Steve’s shadow with bleary eyes, how it stands in one place for a moment and then paces back and forth.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you tiptoe to the door, but don’t do anything when you reach it. You just wait, listen. 

Steve mumbles something to himself that you can’t quite make out — you’re okay, stop being such a baby, jesus… is all you can hear. He sniffles as his feet pad the length of the tiled bathroom floor. It doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s crying.

Your knock upon the door is a soft one. You don’t want to startle him. The second he realizes you’re outside the door, he freezes.

“Stevie…” you call gently out for him. “Are you okay?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah—” Then again. “Yeah, I’m fine… Go back to bed.”

“Are you sure?” you press. “Do you want me to get anything for you?”

The boy has to take a deep breath in to stop himself from snapping at you. He’s angry at himself more than anything — for hiding, for failing at hiding. He runs two anxious hands through his hair and plants himself along the ceramic edge of the bathtub. 

“I’m sure. Just… Just go back to bed, okay?”

You don’t listen. You just slide along the door frame until you’re sat on the carpeted floor of your bedroom. Steve can hear your shuffling outside.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay. You know that, right?” you ask him through the door.

Steve puts his face in his hands before he can catch his scrunching face in the mirror. Just when he thought he wasn’t going to cry, here you come, pulling this shit. 

“I know,” he answers tightly, muffled through his palms. He rubs them up and down his face once, twice, and then a third time before throwing his hands into his lap. “But I’m fine, okay? Seriously.”

“You can cry in front of me, Steve. It’s okay. You don’t have to— You don’t have to go through this shit alone, you know? I’m here. I’m right here, okay? Let me help you.”

It’s that reminder that does him in; the assurance that you’re here and not a disfigured mess in the tall grass of Lover’s Lake. A sob spills from his mouth too abruptly for him to stop it.

“Steve…” you call for him again, heartbreaking on the other side of the door.

“I’m almost lost you,” he cries, more than himself than to you, then sniffles. “I’m almost fucking lost you.”

“But you didn’t. I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere, Steve Harrington. The universe is gonna have to try a whole lot harder to keep me away from you.”

He manages a laugh through his tears. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” you quip. “If Vecna couldn’t stop me from being with you, nothing will.”

The thought of that warms him. He realizes it’s not the universe keeping the two of you together, not fate or some higher power in the clouds. It’s love. It’s all the love the two of you have got for each other, stronger than any demogorgon or Russian soldier or dark wizard. And it’s love that’s gonna hold the two of you together for the next several decades, until you’re old and wrinkly and ugly. 

But Steve won’t think you’re ugly. He’ll think you’re as beautiful as the first moment he saw you — throwing up in the bushes outside Tina’s house after your first high school party.

You rise quickly when the door opens. Steve stands in front of you, eyes puffy and face red and smiling gently down at you anyway. “I love the shit outta you, you know that?” is all he can think to say. Because that’s all that he feels in that moment.

“Of course, I know that,” you grin up at him. Your hands rise to cup his jaw, thumbs swiping at his tear-stained cheeks. Your browns pinch in concern. “You okay?”

For the first time, he’s honest.

“No…” he murmurs with the soft shake of his head. His eyes dart away from yours and to the floor where his and your twenty toes stand, still on the ground, not floating in thin air.

“No— I… I don’t think I am,” he confesses softly. His tired, sad, and heavy honey eyes flit back up to yours again. “But I will be.”

You nod until your words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, you will.”

“If only out of pure spite of all the monsters to all the monsters trying to destroy our lives.”

“They’re gone now,” you promise, like a parent who’s checked under their child’s bed for shadows and ghosts. It works well enough. Here, with his face in your hands and standing in your shared bedroom, he’s never felt safer.

“Can you… Can you hold me?” he wonders, a little meekly because he feels like an idiot saying them. Then he feels even more like an idiot for feeling like an idiot. You’re his girlfriend, after all, cuddles sort of came with the package.

“Of course,” you answer without thinking twice. You grab his hand and tug him back to the bed almost immediately. “I’ll hold you for the rest of our fucking lives, Harrington, you know that.”

The two of you settle into the mattress. Steve uses you like a pillow, wraps all of his limbs around you and tucks his face into your neck. Your scent is a familiar one, warm and comforting, like home. “I like the sound of that,” he mumbles into your shoulder after a moment of quiet.

“Well, buckle in, baby. ‘Cause I got you for the next, like, six decades.”

You feel his smile form against your skin as Steve tucks himself inside your soul.

#bug's blurb sleepover #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #published by bug #stevie drabble #st drabbles

[lucassinclaer]

don't mind me, just thinking about lucas and mike annoying each other via their supercomms bc they're the only two who get reliable reception...

#when mike said that... it's just so cute #wheelclair #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #stranger things #emspeak #emrewatch

[musicalchaos07]

A Very Late WIP Wednesday

The first couple of days bleed together. Joyce stayed in bed, and Jonathan came by with small meals insisting she had to eat something. Their house was proverbial Fort Knox, no one went in or out. That was until Karen sent Nancy along with a casserole and for a briefest second at the dinner table Jonathan had a look in his eye that she's seen before but she couldn't remember when.

The next week the boys went back to school, she went back to work and found out that the town was once again well aware of her latest tragedy before she had the chance to tell them. They buried Bob's ashes on a Tuesday, that much she's sure of. Afterwards, in the church hall, she walked in on Nancy consoling Jonathan and it felt like she was watching herself stand there motionless. Begging herself to do something to comfort him. Before she could, Jonathan quickly dried his tears, stiffened his upper lip and straightened up. He even asked her if she was ok, and she felt so ashamed she cried.

The next day she cleaned the house in a rage while the boys were at school. When she realized all the drawings were long gone the anger truly took hold. It was all so fucking unfair. Owens got to survive and Bob died. Bob died. Bob was dead and she couldn't move to Maine now even if she wanted to. It was like a bomb went off and she was left to pick up the pieces of her life but she can't even manage to do that. 

At some point one of Will's drawings found its way to the refrigerator. "Bob Newby Superhero" it shouted at her every time she double checked the fridge for a Demogorgon in the middle of the night. 

Eventually, the days blurred into weeks so quickly that it was Thanksgiving before she knew it. Time is funny like that. Jonathan, of course, made all the sides and the only reason they ended up with a turkey is because Hopper had enough foresight to buy them one. 

Something about sitting down to holiday dinner with her boys finally snaps her out of her grief-fueled daze. And it's with a mix of horror and guilt that she realizes the only reason their house is still standing is because of Jonathan. But if he resents her at all it doesn’t show. 

Truthfully, she really doesn't remember much at all. It comes back in small flashes, Will seizing, Bob, Mike carrying Will out, Nancy stabbing him with a poker to get that thing out, but nothing ever sticks around long enough for her to make sense of any of it. 

The next morning, Will begged to go sledding with Mike, Lucas and Dustin like they do every Friday after Thanksgiving she cautiously caves. She made sure he packed his supercomm and sent Jonathan along with him for good measure. Which neither of them seemed too thrilled about but she's not about to let Will go off on his own. 

They're still gone when she gets home from work and she tries not to panic. It's only six or so, and sure the sun went down an hour ago but there could be a perfectly logical explanation as to why they're still out. She makes herself a leftover sandwich and picks at it while trying to find something to watch that isn’t the news. She doesn’t watch the news anymore. She’s about to give up and just go lay down when she hears Jonathan’s car pull up.Joyce doesn’t hear him turn off the car but a few minutes later  He unlocks the door and makes a beeline for his room. 

“Hello?” She calls out, confused by his odd behavior. 

“Oh uh hey” he responds walking back into the door frame of the living room.

Jonathan left the front door ajar and the wind blows in, she wraps a blanket around herself to try and warm back up. Her stomach suddenly churns. 

“Where’s Will?” she realizes

She envisions him crashing into a tree and bleeding out in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car 

“Oh I left him at Mike's” Jonathan explains.  

She stares at him wide-eyed. 

“I didn't think it was a big deal.” he mumbles, glancing down and up again.

“You couldn’t have asked first?” she cries a little too loudly

“I’m.. I’m sorry…. they were all just really excited and.. and I think Mike got some new video game but I’m picking him up in a couple hours” Jonathan reassures 

“A couple hours?” she presses, suddenly tense

“Yea” he shrugs.  

“What could possibly be so important that you need to be alone for that long?” she shrieks. 

Jonathan stares, then he starts getting well fidgety. He takes a couple of breaths trying to start talking and then stopping again. But the only noise is the drone of the tv, the car outside, and his fidgeting. She’s about to ask again, but she reminds herself to be patient while he finds his words. 

“I'm uh… Well I'm um…the thing is…” he stammers, nervously. 

The thing about Jonathan is that while he's just as earnest as Will, his thoughts are more like a puzzle or maybe a maze. Either way, it's… challenging for him to express himself as freely as Will does. And while Joyce really hates to think of him as the harder one to parent, right he's not making it any easier. She maintains eye contact and starts counting. If after fifteen seconds he doesn't say what he wants to she'll start asking leading questions. Gently coaxing him out of his shell. 

“I'm going out with Nancy” he spits out all at once when he’s almost lost her attention. 

“Nancy?” she asks

“Yea” he nods 

“Nancy Wheeler?” she questions slowly, making sure that they’re on the same page. 

“Yea, Nancy Wheeler” he says softly with a smile. 

It’s not that she doesn’t like Nancy, not in the slightest but well the two of them are an odd pair. When she found them together last year it made a little bit of sense, what with everything else going on. But she’s really not sure what the two of them are doing hanging out without a threat of monsters. At least she hopes there’s no threat of monsters. Jonathan’s still rocking on his heels in the doorframe waiting for her to say something.

“Well have fun” she resigns, because she has so many questions but no idea where to start. 

“Thanks… uh I gotta go, she's waiting for me.” he informs 

“Waiting for you?” she asks 

“Yea uh in my car” he answers 

“Your car?” she blinks at him

“Yea” 

“You left her in the car?”

“Yea” 

Leaving Nancy Wheeler in the car in the dead of winter, what is he thinking? It’s not like him to be inconsiderate. 

“Jonathan” she scolds “Let her know she can come in next time” 

“Right, right yea I will” he nods, making his way back out of the house as quickly as he came in. 

#I'm really liking this one so far #I can't wait for y'all to read it #stranger things #jancy #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #joyce byers #byers family #my fic #wip wednesday

[mrs-gucci]

𝐬𝐤𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤

𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

yeah, idk. this idea just ~happened~ and I wrote it. it’s nice to be feeling at least a little bit inspired again! this is my first Eddie fic, so I hope people enjoy my character interpretation :)

warnings. smut!!, implied previous relationship, outdoor sex, clothed sex, sooooome dirty talk, reverse cowgirl, unprotected sex, creampie.

word count: 1.1k 

** you and eddie have been broken up for the past few months. now, you’re alone with him at skull rock as you both await the return of the party... **

Eddie pushes the stolen supercomm’s antenna down with a sigh. You offer him a small smile.

“They’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”

He laughs breathily, looking away. He’s lost pretty much all hope at this point, it’s obvious. “Yeah.”

The two of you sit in silence for a bit. He twists his rings, you play with the holes on the knees of your jeans. Only the chirps of the birds and the droplets of rain from the night before hitting the dead leaves covering the ground can be heard.

“Eddie?”

He looks up at you. “What?”

“I, uh...”

He looks at you expectantly.

“I’m sorry about everything that has happened. It’s a shame that all the dickbags in this town can’t see how totally innocent you are.”

Eddie laughs softly, a genuine laugh this time. “Thanks. But I think we both know I’m not, uh, totally innocent.”

Your cheeks warm rapidly and you look away, a small smile tugging at your lips, despite your best efforts to rein it in. He’s referencing the relationship the two of you shared...before you broke up with him after a heated fight.

Yeah, he’s definitely not totally innocent. Far from it, actually.

“Well...that is certainly true, yes.”

Both of you laugh together, then fall silent again.

“Seriously though, thanks.” He says to you before offering the smallest of smiles. “It’s nice to know that I’ve got the prettiest girl in Hawkins on my side.”

You smile, cheeks even hotter.

“Don’t worry, I’ll send you plenty of fanmail in jail.”

“So not funny.” He chuckles anyway, shaking his head. “You’re not funny.”

“Aww. Just keep telling yourself that.”

It’s always so easy with Eddie. Everything. Joking, laughing, talking, fucking... Your head tips downward, swallowing harshly.

“This is weird.”

You look up, surprised that he spoke up. “What is?”

“This. You and me, small-talking. It’s weird.”

“Yeah. It kind of is. We...we weren’t really too good at the talking part, were we?”

He hums with a smile. “No, we weren’t too good at that. We were good at other things, though.”

You’re already wet just thinking about it, all those times he pounded you, made you scream his name...

“Y’know...”

Eddie hasn’t stopped looking at you.

“Skull Rock isn’t just a good hideout spot, it’s...it’s known as a pretty popular hookup spot.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a small smirk.

“Mhm. We never really got to come out here when we were dating.” He leans in slightly. 

You do the same, turning a bit to face him better.

“Eds, I know we haven’t really been together in a while but--”

He’s lunging forward and lips are pressing against yours in the blink of an eye. You’re startled at first, but quickly kiss him back, tongue dancing with his. Your head tilts slightly to the side, deepening the embrace.

“Shit, babydoll...we gotta make it fast. Don’t wanna traumatize the kids...and Steve. Robin and Wheeler seem like they could handle it.”

Your laughter vibrates his lips. “You know the drill, Eds. Just tell me how you want me...or put me there yourself.”

He grins and pulls you onto his lap swiftly, hands tightly gripping your ass. You hum into his mouth, grinding on him and enjoying the way his hips lift instinctively.

Suddenly, you find yourself turned around on his lap, back pressing against his front. His cool metal rings press up against your skin as his hand wraps around your neck.

“Fuck...move your fucking shorts to the side. I need you now.”

You quickly reach down to undo your shorts, giving more room for you to pull them to the side, revealing your bare wetness. Eddie yanks his belt loose, followed by the clasps on his jeans, reaching in to pull out his hardened cock.

You’re joined together quickly and swiftly, both of you moaning softly at the sensation. His thickness stretches you, his shaft penetrating deeply. His length twitches with excitement as you hold him inside for a moment, re-adjusting to him after the time apart.

Eddie takes over quickly, barely letting you begin to bounce before he’s fucking up into you, hand around your throat squeezing in-time with his thrusts. You’re gasping, whimpering, whining with each sharp motion of his hips.

“E-Eds, ssshit...”

“Mmm. Just like that, babydoll, moan my fuckin’ name.” He groans, jaw clenching and teeth gritting.

“Eddie. E-Eddie.” You gasp. You start to bounce along with his quick pace, matching his upwards strokes with your downward ones. “Ohhhmygod.”

You’re already close, so relieved to have Eddie back inside you. You’re relieved just to have Eddie back, even just in this way. You’ve missed him a lot.

He’s close too, you can tell. His dick is twitching, pulsing inside you as his climax draws closer. His breathing grows heavier and more choppy, his legs begin to shake beneath you, and he’s steadily losing himself to the intense pleasure he’s feeling.

“Y-You still on the pill?” He asks shakily, head tipping back for a moment.

You nod, then gasp as he yanks you back flush against him, rings pressing further into your neck with the effort. “Uh huh!”

“Good.”

His hips slam once, twice, three times more before they stutter to a stop. He groans loudly, lazy thrusts continuing as his spend empties into your waiting cunt.

Your walls squeeze him tightly, milking him for all he’s worth while your climax builds to a peak only moments later. A soft gasp of his name is all that’s heard before your hips buck erratically, jerking and jolting with each wave of pleasure that washes over you.

After you’ve ridden out your high, you collapse back onto his chest, breathing heavily. He hums, lazily moving his hand up and down your sides, occasionally venturing up to tease your clothes breasts. You laugh breathily when he does that, shaking your head in amusement. He always did have a special liking for your tits...

Suddenly, and before either of you can say anything, the sound of leaves crunching and twigs snapping reaches your ears.

“It’s this way, Henderson!”

“No, it’s North!”

“This. Way!”

Your eyes widen, as do Eddie’s, at the familiar voices of Steve and Dustin. You quickly get off his lap and straighten yourself out while he does the same.

The party soon approaches through the brush and by then, the two of you are sitting next to each other. 

“Hey, we found them!” Dustin grins.

Both of you look at one another for a moment, sharing a small smile.

“Yeah, Henderson. You found us.”

I don’t currently have a Stranger Things character taglist!

my masterlist | my ao3 | my taglist form (a.d. characters only) | my current page happenings

#mrs-gucci #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #joe quinn #joseph quinn

[myuninterestinglifestory]

Dating Eleven Hopper-Byers Headcanons

Eleven doesn't really know anything about dating

So you'll have to show her

Which is fine because you're a fucking expert

You've watched enough rom-coms--

So you start small

Hanging out at her house

Then you asked her out

Eleven was confused but picked it up pretty quickly

Hopper thinks it's kind of strange that you have to teach her about dating but he's totally fine with it and helps a little bit, too

Joyce absolutely adores you, duh

She's happy that El found her other half

Eleven loves pet names, too

Like babe, baby, sweetheart, honey

Apparently it makes her feel "grown up", you heard from Max

El loves holding your hand and when you play with her hair

She didn't understand that either but now she gets it and loves it

Y'all stay up on your supercomms until your parents or her parents tell y'all to shut the fuck up because you're super flirty and Eleven cannot contain her giggles

You told her to dress up fancy once so you could take her to Enzo's

So Max and El went dress shopping

She picked a dress out in your favorite color but her favorite style

Let's just say you were pleasantly surprised when a fucking Barbie doll babe opened the door at the Hopper-Byers' house

Hopper let's you have the door shut all the way!!!

He knows you're not gonna go far and totally trusts you more than he trusts Mike

Probably because of Joyce

But Will has to keep his door open the whole way whenever Mike's over

And you kind of feel bad for them but you do get where Hopper's coming from

Mike is untrustworthy behind a closed door

Eleven much prefers cuddling to kissing with you, anyhow

She likes being wrapped up in your arms and vice versa

Loves dancing to pop music and jumping on the bed and playing tug-of-war with her powers (spoiler alert: you always, ALWAYS lose)

If you break up, sure, she'll be sad, then she'll burn your house down ignore you completely for the rest of forever, so...

Be careful and don't hurt this angel :)

#eleven x reader #eleven hopper x reader #eleven byers x reader #eleven hopper-byers #millie bobby brown #stranger things 4 #stranger things 4 volume 2 #st4 volume 2 #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #eleven hopper fluff #Caden's sCribbles

[mike-el]

jonathan running to help el → 3x08 | 4x03

#strangerthingsedit #dailystrangerthings #strangerthingsedits #tvstrangerthings #tvedit #filmtv #cinemapix #el x jonathan #jonathan byers #the byers #the byers family #tusersoph #userkaisa #supercomms #userkayles #nessa007 #userkate #useradie #*mine #stranger things

[beth-march]

https://images.app.goo.gl/AiN7K7F7xsuCYPdq7

when he wasn't studying he was looking for el. so if that's not true love, i don't know what it is.

😭😭

i mean 353 days plss.

Please, this profile is so cute. Look at little Mike! He’s just the best boy in the entire world. I really love the idea of him being a writer, too.

The 353 days that Mike spent calling El encapsulate so much of what I love about them. True love is exactly what it indicates - he knew her for such a short time, and she spoke so little, and yet he understood her perfectly and their bond was so well established that his devotion lingered an entire year after losing her. They’re such a unique romance, their bond is so innate and sincere and untouchable.

It’s so heartbreaking to imagine that Mike spent all of his free time trying to find El, switching between Supercomm channels trying to reach her… But not surprising at all! Really, all he’s ever wanted is to know that she’s safe and to be with her. Truly, it is true love 🥹

#mileven #belle answers asks

[bagsybaggins]

Chapter 1: The Disappearance

I open my eyes, staring out the window as I wait for the bell to ring. It was the most boring class of the day, Math. But I still had my good grades to keep Mom happy, even though Dustin always got better grades than me.

Not that I cared about that.

Sure Mom cared about the good grades the 'reputation' of being a good kid and all that shmuck. But I am not exactly a good kid. Not that anyone knows of what I've done. Not even my little brother who is 4 years younger than me, and I tell practically everything.

But Hopper does, and some of the other police officers do. 

But Hopper has 'taken care of it'. I'm not sure exactly what he means by that, but I trust him. After all, he was my dad's best friend. At least he was until my dad died. And after that happened, I wasn't exactly okay. I'll admit, I acted out. Didn't deal with the whole grieving thing properly. Got into picking locks and stealing occasionally.

But I stopped doing that, a while ago actually! I swear.

"Dare! Have you seen my supercomm?" I hear my little brother yell from his room.

I snicker as I toss his walkie under my bed, making sure that I had turned it off.

"Haven't seen it Dusty! Maybe ask Mom for a new one!" I smile as I hear him cursing under his breath, turning into my room's doorway.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for school too?" He asks as he notices me laying on my bed, with a book in my hand.

I roll my eyes, kicking my feet over the side while closing the book. "I've been waiting for you, you dork."

He rolls his eyes. "I needed to find my super-"

"Mom will get you another one Dusty, don't worry about it. Hell, I'll get you one if you just move your butt so we can go." I say as I walk towards him, slowly pushing him out of my room.

He sighs and nods his head, turning into his room. 

"I'll be waiting!"

"Are you going to be at the campaign Sunday?" I hear him ask as I swing my bag over my shoulder, heading towards the door.

I click my tongue as I swing the front door open, hearing his footsteps rushing after me. "Well I have a dinner date with myself at 6:30, and a midnight slumber party including me myself and I. But I think I can rearrange the dinner for another day." I grin as I look at him over my shoulder, noticing his false glare directed at me.

"Ah, you know I wouldn't miss this one for the world Dusty. We've been planning this for what, months? I'll be there, and I'll even order pizza!" I throw my arm over his shoulders and rub my knuckles into his head, knocking off his hat.

He laughs as he shoves my hands away, giving me a nudge with his elbow. "Well good, we'll need you to help us win the fight. Do you think Mike-"

He rambles on but I glance down the street, noticing the familiar car that I had seen many times before.

"Hey Dusty, why don't you start peddling to school before you're late. I'll catch up." I say as I push my bike off the lawn, towards Hopper's car. I hear him mutter an okay, but I can feel his eyes on me as I hop on my bike.

"I haven't committed any crimes Hop, I swear," I state loudly as I press on my break, slowing down as he steps out of the car.

He chuckles down at me, shaking his head. "I would hope so Kid. But I'm here to give you something, for staying clean for so long. Or something like that."

He reached into his car, pulling out a hat. It was dark army green, and it had some pins in it. One flag pin on the right side, with a small bronze star next to it. 

"It was mine, but your dad added that to it." He said as he pointed to the other side of the hat.

I turned it and stared at the words that seemed to be embroidered on the left side of the hat. Stretching from the front to back.

"I didn't know Dad could sew," I mutter, and Hopper laughs softly.

"Was full of surprises."

I run my thumb over the wording, feeling the bumps and the smoothness of the string.

'All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust.'

I scoff a laugh as I realize where they were from. "Of course, he put a quote from his favorite Disney film."

"And he put it on my cap, not his. Thought you would want to wear it since he lost his original one." 

I nod my head with a smile, turning to look up at him. "Thanks, Hop."

He pats my shoulder. "Not a problem Kid. Promised your old man I'd look after you, and Dustin. Though he never warned me of how much trouble you'd get into."

Grinning widely, I place the cap on my head, moving my light brown hair behind my ears. "He was good at keeping secrets, but I think he just thought you knew. Besides, my first word was ‘dare’, remember?"

He shakes his head with a snort, "I remember, he wouldn’t shut up about it either. You're just like him Kid. Stalling to try and get out of school."

Pushing on the bike peddle, I smile as I start rolling down the hill. "I'm not stalling! And I won't be late for school! Later Hop!"

"Later Kid!" I hear him yell as I turn the corner, sighing as I see four kids waiting for me on their bikes.

"I thought I told you to go ahead!" I glare at Dustin as I slowly pass them.

"What was that about?" Dustin asked, dodging what I had said.

"He was telling me to keep out of trouble. Said he didn't want to arrest me again for picking another lock at the little corner store. That and he wanted to give me this hat." I explain as Will speeds up and looks at me in shock.

"You've been arrested?" 

"Yeah-" "No you haven't!" Dustin yells, and I roll my eyes.

"But why'd he give you a hat? It's kinda a weird thing to do." Mike says as he moves to my other side.

"It was something that Dad had for a bit. He thought I would like it." We turn the corner, and I can hear Dustin's bike move up next to mine.

"Why do you get something of Dad's?" He asks, causing me to scoff.

"Look Dork, I said it was something dad had for a bit. It's Hopper's old army hat, I think. But Dad stitched it a Peter Pan quote and so Hop gave it to me." I look over at him and give him a look. "And you have multiple things of Dad's. But you lose them! So I keep them safe until you stop losing your junk." 

He frowns, opening his mouth to say something before Lucas interrupts. "She's not wrong. You already lost your Supercomm this morning."

Dustin sighs and nods. "Fine, alright. But why does Hop come to visit you? You still haven't told me that!"

"What do you mean I haven't told you? You know why he does."

Dustin gives me a look and shakes his head. "No, you haven't. Every time I ask, you just say it's because he was friends with Dad."

I groan as School comes into view, a bubbling feeling of math equations sends my stomach into knots.

"He is- was. But he promised to make sure we didn't into trouble. That and it was to help Mom take a load off so she could watch you more. I just got into trouble."

And before Dustin could say anything else, I push on towards the High School, dodging people and cars. 

"BYE, BOYS! SEE YOU LATER!" I yell as I wave to them.

"BYE DARE!" "YOU NEED TO TELL ME ONE DAY!" 

I laugh at Dustin's voice, rolling my eyes as I press on my breaks, slowing down at the bike stand. I hop off, inhaling deeply as I feel a slight burning in my chest tighten up. I hold my breath, leaning against my bike as I try to shift the feeling away. After ten seconds I exhale, the feeling lingers but it wasn't as bad anymore.

"Hey, Dare!" 

I turn my head, giving Nancy a thin smile as the urge to cough erupts from my lungs. And she notices it, like always. As she sends me a look, I sigh and let myself have a small mild coughing fit.

"You need to stop doing that. It's not good for you." Nancy says as she pats my back. 

I shake my head as I slowly stop coughing, my throat hurting from it. I give her a smirk as I grab my bag from the front of my bike. "I was told to do that, by a doctor Nanc. It's supposed to help me grow out of having asthma. Or something."

"Well." She looks at me before she adjusts her books. "I think that's a lie."

I laugh as Barb comes out of her car, a smile on her face. "What's a lie?" 

"Nance says my doctor's tips for getting rid of Asthma are fake," I explain as we walk into the hell pit called school.

No, I don't like school. But hey, It's that or child labor.

"I mean, sometimes doctors can be wrong about things," Barb says as I dodge another basketball player, who doesn't know how to walk.

"Yeah, but they should know what helps or not, right? I mean, they studied it for how long to get a doctorate?" I ask as I stop at my locker, which was next to Nancy's thankfully. Can't stand my other locker neighbor though.

"Look, I'm not saying he's lying. I'm just saying that it doesn't help to not breathe. Or to hold back a cough. Where is your inhaler?" Nancy asks as she leans back to look past my locker door.

"It's in my bag, and the nurse has my other one just in case. But I've been fine so far without it Nance, Stop worrying. If it gets bad I'll use it. But, now that I think about it," I pause as I take out my inhaler and shake it. "I don't remember when I last had an asthma attack."

"It was last week, on Monday. You laughed too hard after you saw one of the cheerleaders slip on milk and flipped her skirt, and her entire lunch onto herself. Which I think was sloppy joe day." Barb recites from memory, squinter her eyes as she recalls the incident.

I snort, laughing as I remember it. And like before, I feel my chest tighten and I feel my breath shortening. I hastily cough as I shake my inhaler, Nancy, and Barb rubs my back as I inhale deeply with my inhaler. 

"Thanks." I croak, coughing once more. "I needed that laugh."

Nancy sighed heavily while Barb nodded, understanding what I had meant.

"Yeah well, don't leave your inhaler in your bag. I want you to carry it with you at least." Nancy says as she closes her locker, holding her first and second classes books. As she turns to me, I close my locker and I see her looking at my hat. "Where did you get that?"

I smile as I flick the front up a little. "A friend of my dad's gave it to me, said my dad had it," I explain, before waving off their questioning looks. "It's a long story, but it's mine now. that's all that matters."

Barb nods her head quickly. "Alright, well I think it suits you. But I think we should head to class before we're late."

Nancy nods her head and I pat her shoulder as I walk around her. "Don't worry Nance! I won't have another attack so soon. It's uncommon-"

I later did have another attack in my first class. Someone had sprayed too much bad cologne and I ended up having to leave the room for a few minutes.

---

"What did I tell you, I knew-"

I sit my lunch down and wave my hands around. "I'm sorry Nancy! You were right! But I wouldn't have had another attack if SOMEONE DIDN'T HAVE THAT CRAPPY COLOGNE THAT CAUSED ME TO HAVE A COUGHING FIT!" I yell as I slowly look over at the basketball team. 

The one who had the bad cologne ducked his head down in embarrassment because he had to use the showers to wash it off. The teacher had almost given him detention but I said it was fine.

Nancy puts he hand on my arm, causing me to stop and look at her. She gives me a look, one that tells me to stop. Like, a mom glare. 

"Well, I'm glad you're okay. Are you going to need a refill sometime soon? I'm sure Mom might have some at our house when you left it there."

I sigh with a smile, shaking my head while reaching into my jacket pocket. I bring out my inhaler and shake it. "No, I should be good for the rest of the night. Besides I can just sneak in and take my other inhaler from the nurse's office if I need to."

I see Nancy and Barb look at me, and I pause as I realize what I had said. 

"Guy's I was joking! I wouldn't break into the school for that! I have some more at home. I'll be okay!" I exclaim as I sit down next to them, shoving my inhaler back in my pocket.

'I wouldn't break into school again.' I silently repeat in my head as I open my milk.

Nancy and Barb shake their heads with smiles on their faces, looking down at the lunch and beginning to eat. 

"I wouldn't doubt if you did do that Dare. You've done some crazy things." Nancy says as she gives me a side glance.

I scoff and look at her. "And what are you insinuating that I've done Nance?"

She hums as she looks at Barb, who snorts in response. 

"Great, you're teaming up against me." I look down at my tray, frowning when I realize I forgot to grab a fork.

"Hey, if you ever need to run to pick up a refill, just call me. I'll come to pick you up." Barb says as points her finger at me.

I nod my head as I stand up. "Thanks, Barb. At least someone has my back."

Nancy laughs as she looks at me. "I got your back, Dare. Wait, where are you going?"

I wave my hand as I head back towards the lunch line. "I forgot my fork, I'll be right back."

"DO YOU HAVE YOUR INHALER?" She yelled, to which I glare at her from over my shoulder.

Now, you should pay attention to where you're walking. But I wasn't because I was glaring at her, so I ended up hitting one of the small brick pillars that are in the middle of the room.

"Whoa, are you okay?" I hear someone ask as I rub my nose.

I turn to my right as I hear the small sound of the music being blasted through headphones. A guy, with brown curly-haired mullet, and brown eyes. He looked at me with his brows furrowed, his hands holding his tray.

"Yeah, I'm alright. I think." I scrunch my nose as I take my hand away. "Quick question, am I bleeding?"

He blinks at me before I notice his eyes slip down slightly, and he shakes his head. "No, I think you didn't hit it hard enough." He smiles as he looks back up at my eyes. 

I sigh. "Damn, no chance of getting sent home then."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "I don't think so, but you could try again."

I laugh shaking my head. "I think I won't but thanks. Have a good lunch-" I pause leaning forward, grabbing his fork, and trying to hear the song that was playing through the headphones around his neck. "Oh is that Def Leppard? Rock of Ages right?"

He blinks as he visibly stills for a moment, I lean back tapping my fingers against the fork I had taken. 

"Uh, yeah it is. I didn't think anyone else here listened to them." He mutters a patch of pink lightly crawling up his neck. 

Shit, he's embarrassed. Didn't mean to do that, whatever I did. 

"Well, guess you were wrong. They're good, but I've only heard a few of their songs on the radio." I explain as I slowly step back.

He grins, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. "Their album's really good! I can lend it to you if you'd like to listen to it-"

I laugh and shake my head. "Maybe some other time, but I gotta head back to my friends before they start having a panic attack. If I'm gone everything goes wrong, ya know?"

I can see his face fall, just slightly before he smiles again and nods his head. "Yeah, I'll bring the cassette another time."

I smile. "Yeah, thanks." I turn around, walking back to my table with Nancy and Barb watching me. I quickly turn around and lift the fork, twirling it around in my fingers.

"Oh and thanks for the fork!" I say as he turns back around, quickly glancing at his tray. I giggle as his mouth drops in shock as he looks back at me, and he smiles and shakes his head.

I speed walk back to my table, dodging another person holding their tray. As I sit back down, Nancy and Barb raise their brow at me.

"What?" I ask as I eat my crappy school spaghetti that barely has any sauce on it. 

"Who was that?" Barb asks.

"And what was that?" Nancy smiles with a devious look on her face.

I lean back from her as I twirl another strand of spaghetti onto the fork. "No idea what their name is, and that was me grabbing their fork instead of going back to grab a new one."

Nancy and Barb give me a look that just translates to, really?

"What?" I look at the two of them.

"What was that whole, leaning into him thing? Do you like him?" Nancy asks as her voice grows quieter as she leans closer.

I blink slowly and take another bite.

"He was playing a good song on his headphones. I leaned closer so I could hear it, it sounded familiar. And no, I don't like him, I don't even know his name. Yeesh, Nance, not everyone thinks about dating someone." I say as I give a look.

Barb looks at Nancy with a raised brow, and Nancy's eyes are blown wide.

"Wait- no, I don't think about-" Nancy tries to explain, but we cut her off by looking over at Steve Harrington's table.

He waves his hand as Nancy looks at where we had turned to, smiling at her before turning back to his friends. Nancy, in turn, blushes as she turns back around and looks down at her food. 

"Not think about dating huh?" I mutter as Nancy starts pushing her food around.

Barb snickers as she opened her book, pulling out a sheet of homework.

"Shut up." Nancy murmurs as she gives me a false glare, one that holds no bite to her 'mom' glares.

I smirk as our table falls silent, the two either invested in their food or their homework. I exhale silently, looking up from the table as I lift my milk with my left hand, still holding my fork in my right. My gaze shifts from table to table as I slowly drink my milk, and then I see him again. His headphones were on, sitting at the end of a loner's table his bag in the seat next to him. I press back a smile as I see him trying to twirl his new fork in his hand.

He slowly lifts his head, his lips mouthing whatever song had been blaring through his headphones. His eyes look away from his hands, and we meet gazes. I smirk as I lift my stolen fork, and salute him with it as subtly as possible. His lips twitch upwards and I turn away as I snicker to myself.

"Why are you laughing?" Barb asks, her gaze not leaving her homework.

I turn to her as Nancy looks over at me. I click my tongue and blurt out the first thing that popped into my head.

"I was thinking about T rex's trying to fist fight, but their arms don't even stretch that far so they just kinda lean back and slap each other's hands like this," I say as I lean back, bringing my arms close to my chest and flapping my hands around.

Barb and Nancy stare at me for a moment, before they turn to each other. Then our little trio bursts out laughing at my ridiculousness. I smile as I glance over at his spot, feeling a twinge in my gut when I see he wasn't there anymore. 

---

"No, I'm fine Mom! I didn't have any asthma attacks at school. I promise!" I say as I walk out of my room, to my panicking mother. 

"But they called and said you did! Twice!" She said as she turns to me.

I sigh and shake my head. 

'It was actually three times, but no need to correct her.'

"They lied Mom! They just want you to try and get me to be homeschooled. They don't want me to beat the highest grades or something. I was fine all day. I swear." I smile as I hug her quickly.

I see Dustin raise his brow at me from the kitchen, and I glare at him.

"Alright, Dare-bear. If you're sure. I'll be back later after bingo night is done." She kisses my cheek quickly as we part from our hug.

I shake my head. "I don't know why you play bingo Mom. You're not that old. Grandma's play Bingo, everyone knows that."

She smiles as she kisses Dustin's cheek, grabs her purse, and heads toward the door. "Don't flatter me, dear, I'm still going to take you for another visit to the doctors tomorrow."

My neck cracks as I look over at her, a feeling of panic filling me. "Sunday? I can't we-"

I feel my lungs constricting, her back still turned to me, but Dustin noticed.

"We have a campaign Sunday Mom, we can't cancel it! She can go after that!" Dustin comes to my safety as he walks to the door, skillfully moving her out so she couldn't see me.

I hold my breath, closing my eyes as I try to focus on counting. Drowning their words. When I slowly exhale, I fall into a wheezing coughing fit. My eyes water with each cough, and I feel my inhaler being shoved into my hand. I quickly inhale, the sound coming back into my ears. I slowly calm down again.

I slowly look at Dustin, nodding in thanks as the attack dissipates. 

"She still doesn't know about it?" He asks as he sits down beside me.

I shake my head. "I try to explain, but she doesn't quite get it. Fear of the hospital is normal, you'll be fine. I just try to push through it."

He nods his head and I smile. "Thanks, for the cover."

He smiles at me, and I chuckle. 

"I owe you one, ya I know," I murmur before I pull him into a hug. "But really, thanks."

"No problem, you're my sister. Plus, we can't lose our rogue right before the campaign." He says.

I laugh, shoving him away and shaking my head. 

"Whatever nerd, go get ready for bed. We're heading out early on Sunday, gotta go grab something from the store before we head over." I stand up, stifling a yawn as I look over at the clock.

"What are you grabbing?" He asks.

"Girl stuff." I look at him from the corner of my eye, smiling as he falls silent with a confused look on his face.

And then light bulb, he hastily says good night and runs to his room. I laugh silently as I walk to my room, muttering a 'night' through his door. I open my door and shut it, falling onto my bed with a slight bounce. I stare at the ceiling before clicking my tongue and turning onto my side, reaching down at the bottom of my nightstand and shuffling through my books. When I see my yearbooks from middle school, I smile, grabbing them and throwing them down next to me.

I sit up as I grab the oldest one, with little sharpie doodles on the cover and sides. I chuckle at the monkey drawing I had drawn in a bright pink sharpie. I open the cover and slowly sift through it to find a familiar face, that I had yet to put a name to. And page after page, I begin to frown in concentration looking at each face slowly.

When I turn to the M's, I finally see him. At the bottom right corner. 

"Eddie Munson huh," I mutter aloud as I look at the fourth-grade picture.

I smile as I flip through the book, smiling at pictures of Nancy and Barbra. They were all ahead of me by one year, I was one year behind despite being the same age. I had been born at the end of the year, December 28th to be exact. Of 1967. We were friends because of Dustin and Mike. I didn't have any friends because I had been sick, and so when Dustin was invited over by Mike, I tagged along. That's where I met Nancy and Barbra, and we've been friends ever since.

But, when I was supposed to be attending my first year of kindergarten, I ended up getting pneumonia. I fell into a coma for six months, missing my fifth birthday, and too much school to start first grade the next year. I mean, I could have gone to first grade with them. But my dad didn't want that, said I should get the joy of Kindergarten first.

And then halfway through kindergarten, Dad died. I was six, and Dustin was barely two.

I exhale shakily as the memories try to resurface, but I ignore them. I flip through the pages, looking at the pictures of different events that happened during that year. A Halloween costume competition. Thanksgiving lunch with little finger turkeys littering the walls. A Christmas choir concert and I couldn't help but notice the boy who stood up in the front. My memory was fuzzy from that, but I did remember someone had hit a really high note. 

And it had been him.

I giggle at the thought that that little head-shaven boy had grown a mullet. He had been good at singing from what I remember. I mean that high note, wow. 

I slowly close the book and I knock them to the ground, knowing that I would accidentally step on them tomorrow. I smiled as I turned onto my side, pulling the covers out from under me. I slowly drift to sleep, knowing that I would be his friend before this year was over.

---

I curse wildly as I bounce around on one foot, having stepped on the damn yearbooks. I huff and glare down at them, before noticing that they had fallen open.

"Oh shit, I forgot Jonathan existed," I say in awe at the bowl cut he had been sporting back in fourth grade.

"Dare! Dare, you up?" I hear Dustin yell from beyond the door.

"Yeah?" I yell back, kneeling down and closing the book. 

"Wanna get breakfast before we head out? Mom made eggs and bacon." He said before I look at the door.

"BACON?" I yell, before throwing the books back under my nightstand, and running to my door.

"Move Nerd, there's bacon." I push past him, heading to the kitchen.

I pause as I realize that there was in fact no Bacon. And Mom wasn't even in the kitchen. I slowly turn to Dustin who smiled.

"Can I request Bacon with eggs?" He asks as I glare at him.

I stare at him, not moving, and watch as he slowly loses his smile.

"Fine, but you owe me," I say quickly as I walk into the kitchen and open the cupboard. 

I hear him sigh in relief before he sits down at the table. 

"So where's mom?" I ask as I open the fridge, pulling out the eggs and bacon. 

He shrugs. "I think she went shopping. At the thingy store."

I look at him as I click my tongue, cracking an egg into the pan. "The thingy store?"

He nods. "The store where she got that, I forgot what- wait. Antique store! She's there."

I sighed heavily and shake my head. "So we'll come home to what, another weird cat statue maybe?"

He shrugs. "Or maybe she'll find another 'rare' plate. I don't think we even have a normal set."

I wince as I start scrambling the eggs. "Yeah, that's my fault. I had used them for target practice."

"What?"

I freeze before correcting the previous statement. "We had used them for target practice. Dad and I. Before and after I had Pneumonia. Which sucked, by the way, don't ever get it."

He nods his head. "I know you told me that before. I keep forgetting that Dad had taught you to shoot when you were five." He frowns.

I shrug. "Dad was paranoid for some reason, the whole PTSD thing ya know? But yeah that was weird." I hum as I think back on trying to shoot our plates. 

"I couldn't hold the gun ya know. I was too small, and it would keep flying out of my hand. it was fun, except it was really loud." I say fondly with a smile.

Dustin smiles thinly.

"Hey," I put my hand on his shoulder as he looks up at me. "You might not have had a lot of time with him, and neither did I. But we still have his pictures. And you are almost a replica of him you know. Mom might not say it, but you really do look like him. Except you got Mom's eyes and her hair. I got his eyes and hair," I pause as I frown. "But where did I get my asthma?"

Dustin chuckles and shakes his head. "I know, but I wish I had at least a memory with him before he died in the crash."

I inhale sharply before covering it with a fake hiccup, yes I have mastered the art of fake hiccupping and it's something everyone should do.

"Yeah, I wish you did too. He definitely would have helped you with that radio project that you have going on. He would have also provided the snacks. He had a major sweet tooth." I smiled.

"Really? A sweet tooth?"

I laughed and nodded my head. "Oh yeah, he carried around candy in his pockets all day. By the time the day was over, they would be gone. Anything sweet, he'd eat it. He enjoyed ring pops, suckers, candy canes, anything." I pause for a moment. "I think his favorite candy was 3 Musketeers."

Dustin's eyes lit up. "We like the same chocolate?"

I smile. "Yeah, he would only eat that type of chocolate. But candy, that was limitless. So long as it was sweet."

---

"Wait there for me Dustin, I'll be right back!" I yell as I hop off my bike, running into the music store. 

I cringe as the abundance of Elvis was on display. I walk around it, looking at the plastic labels for anything other than oldies music.

"If you're looking for Def Leppard-" I jump as I hear a voice say from the isle behind me. 

Eddie's head peeks out from above the self, a smile spread across his face. "-I'll be willing to lend you mine as I said."

"Jesus Joe Cricket, you scared the fuck out of me Eddie," I say as I wheeze lightly, my hand on my racing heart, ignoring the look he gave me. "I thought a ghost was talking to me for a second."

"An interesting selection of words, most people say Jesus H Christ you know." He said as he walked around the aisle toward me. "You know my name?"

I cross my arm, mimicking his stance, and nod my head. "Yeah, there's no one else named Eddie who hit that high note back in our fourth-grade choir class."

His smirk shifted into an embarrassed smile, pink spreading to his cheeks. "And that apparently."

I laugh and shake my head. "No, I looked you up in the yearbook. I'm terrible with names honestly. But the high note? Man, that's something you should be proud of. It was killer, no one else could have made that without some helium."

He looks at me through his hair, raising a brow. "Really?"

I nod my head rapidly, lightly hitting his shoulder. "Hell ya, it was great! I wouldn't be able to do that, so yeah it's awesome."

He smiles, nodding his head while looking down at the shelf. His fingers tap against some of the cassettes. I tap my foot to the song playing in the store, a rock song by a band I didn't recognize.

"Here, your copy of it." He said abruptly as he held out a cassette to me.

I glance down at it and notice that it was Pyromania, the Def Leppard album that he had been listening to the first time we met. I take it from it, turn it over, see the band on the back, and smile. 

"You know," I pause looking at him. "I think you would rock the long hairdo."

He stares at me for a moment before laughing, his hand drifting towards his mullet. "My hair not looking good? Is that what you're saying?"

I shake my head. "No, no-"

"So it's not good?"

I nudge his arm as he laughs loudly. "That's not what I'm saying! I just meant that it would look good on you. Not a lot of people can pull it off you know."

There's a moment of silence before he asks, "You really think so?"

Nodding my head, "Definitely. It would be wicked."

He nods his head before I see the clock above the door. My eyes widen as I realize the time. "Oh shit! I'm gonna be late, they're gonna kill me."

I put the cassette back on the shelf and turn to him with a smile. "It's been great seeing you Eds, but I got a campaign to get to." And I walk past him towards the door.

"Wait! Your cassette." He says while he held it back out to me. 

Shaking my head with a smile, I reply. "No, I think I'll borrow the one I was offered. We can talk more the next time we meet! Bye Eds!" I open the door and walk out. 

"Bye, YN."

---

"Okay! Break time!" I exclaim as I lean back in my chair, wincing at the verbal cracking in my back.

"We can't take a break yet! We're almost at the dragon keep!" Lucas said as he looked over at me.

 I stand up and cross my arms. "We are taking a five-minute break. I can hear your stomach growling like it hasn't eaten in two days. So we are grabbing the pizza and the drinks. Plus, I need a pee break and I need Nance to answer the diabolical question for Mr. Pickles's homework assignment."

"There's a teacher named Mr. Pickles?" Will asks.

I sigh. "No, I just call him that because he smells like Pickles, and so does his classroom. Now, five-minute break!" I clap my hands and usher them upstairs.

"Oh, you're coming out of the cave, how's everything going?" Mrs. Wheeler asks as she opens the fridge door.

I sigh as the boys answer, noticing how she tries to hold her smile as they talk about the campaign. 

"I got them out Mrs. Wheeler, for a short time. We need food to tame the hunger of the monsters they call stomachs." I smile.

She smiles at me, patting my shoulder. "Thank you for that dear."

"No problem, but I gotta go ask Nance something real quick," I state before moving around her and running up the stairs. "Nance! I got a question."

I open the door and walk in, falling onto her bed with a groan. She looks over at me from her desk, raising her brow.

"Is it already done?" She asks as she stands from her chair and sits next to my head. 

"No, I just demanded a break. Anyway, I was wondering." I pause as I try to think of my question again. "Oh right, Mr. Pickles gave me homework, and there's one problem I can't figure out. It's got like 50 melons and the cost of one is 5, but then the inflation is like, 2.2 or something. What do I do?"

She stares down at me before laughing. "Really? That's your question?"

I smile and shake my head before sitting up. "Nope, what up with you and Steve?"

---

"Wait, guys!" I yell as Will and Dustin start racing. "Guys, don't leave me! I have asthma!"

Muttering a curse I try to push myself to catch up with them, and I manage to catch up to Dustin as he stops at our corner.

"I want your X-Men 134!" I hear Will shout as I stop next to Dustin, wheezing.

"Shit," Dustin says, before looking at me. "Fuck, where's your inhaler!"

I flip him off, peddling forward slowly, digging into my pocket for my inhaler. I hear him apologizing but I wave him off, trying to breathe again. 

"Whatever. Do you think we beat it?" I ask as we go to our house.

He shakes his head. "No, we didn't. Will found the other dice, it was a seven. We lost."

Cursing again I crack my neck as I press on the breaks, stopping in our driveway. Dustin's breaks squeak loudly and I wince. "We should fix that."

He shrugs as we head to the door, ready to go to bed after a long campaign.

"Hey Mom, We're home!"

[Next Chapter]

#stranger things #st season 1 #eddie munson #fem!reader #x reader #will byers #eleven #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #lucas sinclair #steve harrington #henderson reader #demogorgan #hawkins #chief hopper #dustin henderson #yn dare henderson #dare henderson #eddie munson x reader #jonathan byers #barbara holland #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x yn #the freaking rebel

[thewidowsghost]

Five - Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Four Eggo waffles spring up from the toaster and Mike slides two of them into his pockets before moving to the table and wolfing down his Eggos.

“Slow down, Mike,” Nancy, Mike’s older sister, says. “That’s disgusting.”

Mike turns to his sister. “Do a lot of studying last night?” Mike questions.

“Yeah, actually, I did,” Nancy replies.

“What’s your test on?” Mike asks. “Human anatomy?”

Nancy kicks Mike under the chair, and Mike kicks her back.

After finishing breakfast, Mike makes his way down the stairs to the basement. He sits down in front of the fort, flipping up the blanket where he finds the two girls sitting. Eleven was playing with Mike’s walkie.

“Hey, you found my supercomm,” Mike says, smiling at the girl. “Pretty cool, huh? I talk to my friends with it. Mostly Lucas, ‘cause he lives so close. Signal’s pretty weak.”

Eleven looks up, meeting Mike’s gaze as he pulls the waffles out of his pocket. “I brought breakfast,” Mike holds out the waffles to the sisters. Eleven takes a chomp of her waffle and Five smiles slightly before taking a bite of her own. “So listen, this is gonna sound a little weird, but I just need you guys to go out there,” Mike says, pointing outside. “Then go to the front door and ring the doorbell. My mom will answer the door and you’ll tell her that you’re lost and that you guys need help. But whatever you do, you can’t tell her about last night, or that you know me. Understand? Really, it’s no big deal. We’ll just pretend to meet again. And my mom, she’ll know who to call.”

Five and Eleven exchange a look before Eleven shakes her head.

“No,” El says and Mike frowns in confusion.

“No?” Mike echoes.

“No,” Eleven repeats.

“No . . . you don’t want my mom to get help?” Mike questions. Both girls shake their heads. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?” Mike asks.

There is a silence, and El looks off into the distance and a shiver runs down Five’s back.

“Who . . .” Mike begins, “Who are you in trouble with?”

“Bad,” El murmurs.

“Bad? Bad people?” Mike asks. Both Eleven and Five nod. “They want to hurt you?” Mike questions. “The bad people?”

Eleven lifts a hand, her index and middle fingers out straight, pointing at her temple and then at Five’s temple, and then at Mike.

“Understand?” El asks.

“Michael, where are you?” Mrs. Wheeler’s voice comes from the top of the stairs. “We’re going to be late. Let’s go!”

“A-all right, I-i’ll be right back. J-just stay here, okay? Stay here,” Mike says, dropping the sheet back in front of the girls’ faces.

Mike’s footsteps recede, Eleven and Five listening to his footsteps on the stairs.

El bites her tongue, looking down at the blanket over lap looking slightly disappointed.

Five’s expression softens; she wraps an arm around her sister’s shoulder, and El allows her head to fall on her sister’s shoulder.

. . .

“Will! Will Byers!” the volunteers shout as they walk over the rise.

“Hey! Anything?” Hopper jogs up to his fellow officers.

“Eh. You?” Officer Powell questions.

“Nothing but a dead phone,” Hopper replies.

“Joyce?” Callahan asks.

“About one step from falling off the edge,” Hopper says.

“She’s been a few steps for a while now, hasn’t she?” Powell asks.

“One kid’s dead; another one’s missing,” Hopper says, his eyebrows knitting in a tight frown. “Show a little class.” Hopper walks away, calling to the city volunteers. “All right. Come on, let’s go! We got a lot of ground to cover.”

“The chief and her, they’ve screwed before, huh?” Callahan asks.

Powell shakes his head in exasperation before he turns to walk away calling, “Will!”

. . .

“Oh, God, look,” Carol says, looking over at Jonathan, who was posting a flyer reading, “Have you seen me?” with Will’s portrait on it.

“Jeez, that’s depressing,” Steve Harrington says, resting a hand on his hip.

“Should we say something?” Nancy asks the group.

“I don’t think he speaks,” Carol replies.

“How much you wanna bet he killed him?” Tommy says, his lips twitching slightly.

“Shut up,” Steve says, smacking Tommy gently on the chest.

Nancy glances at Tommy before her gaze strays back to Jonathan. After a moment, Nancy walks over to Jonathan.

“Hey,” Nancy says not to startle Jonathan.

“Oh, hey,” the boy replies.

“I just . . . “ Nancy pauses, collecting her thoughts. “I wanted to say, you know, um . . . I’m sorry about everything.” Jonathan’s gaze clouds sadly for a moment before Nancy continues. “Everyone’s thinking about you.” Jonathan’s mouth twitches and his eyes gleam with disbelief. “It sucks,” Nancy goes on.

“Yeah,” Jonathan replies.

“I’m sure Will’s fine,” Nancy tells the boy. “He’s a smart kid.” The school bell rings over head and Nancy looks up. “I-I’ve got to go. I-I’ve got a test.”

Jonathan just nods as Nancy walks away. He gathers the remainder of his flyers before walking out the door of the school.

. . .

Mike rides his back out from behind the line of trees as his mother’s car drives by.

. . .

“Do you want anything to drink?” Mike asks the girls as they walk up the stairs. “We have OJ, skim milk . . . What else?”

Eleven walks into the living room and Five follows.

“Um, we have . . .” Mike tries to remember, but he turns around as the two girls move into the other room. “Oh, this is my living room,” Mike says, moving over to let his arms rest on top of his television. “It’s mostly just for watching TV. Nice, right?” Mike asks, tapping the top of the television with his fingers. “It’s a twenty-two inch. It’s like ten times bigger than Dustin’s.”

Eleven turns, walking over to the mantle to look at the photographs. She smiles slightly as she looks at a picture of Nancy. “Pretty,” she murmurs.

“I guess,” Mike replies, looking disgusted. “That’s my sister Nancy,” Mike says. “And that’s baby Holly,” he goes on as Eleven moves down through the pictures. “And those are my parents. What are your parents like?” he asks Eleven, then turning to Five.

A confused look twists Eleven’s face but Five just looks wistful.

“Do they live close?” Mike goes on, seemingly not comprehending the expressions on the gir’s faces.

Eleven moves away from the mantle, running her hand along the soft cloth of the reclining chair.

“That’s our La-Z-Boy,” Mike says. “It’s where my dad sleeps. You can try it if you want.” Eleven moves to sit down in the chair and Mike smiles encouragingly. “It’s fun,” the boy says. He leans down, placing a hand on the lever. Once Eleven is settled in the chair, he pulls the lever and the La-Z-Boy reclines, rocking slightly.

“Can I get some water?” Five asks and Mike’s eyes widen slightly with surprise - he hadn’t heard Five speak before.

The boy nods, then tells Five where the cups are in the kitchen.

Eleven shifts slightly in the chair when she cannot see her sister anymore.

. . .

In Mike’s room an hour later, Five is sitting on the floor, nursing her second glass of water.

Eleven moves over to Mike’s dresser, studying the photos and trophies.

“Oh, these are all my science fair trophies,” Mike says, standing up from his small card table to stand beside Eleven. “We got first every year. Except for last year when we got third,” Eleven’s gaze strays from the largest trophy to the picture of four boys and her eyes widen slightly as it falls on the boy second from the left. Eleven’s slight smile slides off her face and she points at Will Byers in the photo.

“You know Will?” Mike asks.

Five looks up at the name, feeling as though she’d heard it before, and not last night, but sometime in her past.

“Did you see him? Last night? On the road?” Mike bombards El with questions.

Mike pauses at the sounds of brakes squealing. Mike runs to the window, seeing his mother’s car pull up into the driveway.

“We’ve got to go?” Mike says, taking Eleven’s hand and leaving Five to closely follow.

Mrs. Wheeler enters the house, Holly propped on her hip as the three children are heading down the stairs.

At the sight of his mother, Mike urges the girls back up the stairs and into his room.

“Stay here,” Mike orders, nudging the girls into the closet and closing the door.

At the darkness of the closet, Eleven’s breathing increases and Five wraps her sister in a hug, both girls sliding down to sit on the floor of the closet.

“I’m here,” Five murmurs.

Eleven clings to the words, her face pressing into Five’s shoulder. Tears stream down Eleven’s face and Five holds her sister close to her.

. . .

“Eleven? Five?” Mike closes the door to his room and rushing for the closet. “Is everything okay?” He opens the door to find El’s face wet with tears and clinging to her sister’s shirt.

El removes her face from the crook of Five’s shoulder and nods.

“Are you sure?” the boy asks and Eleven nods.

. . .

The door to Mike’s room closes, and Dustin and Lucas look over at the two girls - Eleven sitting on the bed, wrapped up in one of Mike’s blankets, and FIve, who is sitting below her sister on the floor, nursing her glass of water once again.

“Are you out of your mind?” Lucas asks Mike.

“Just listen to me,” Mike replies.

“You are out of your mind!” Lucas says again, this time, however, it wasn’t a question.

“They know about Will,” Mike says.

“What do you mean, they know about Will?” Dustin asks, and Mike steps forward, picking up the photo that Eleven had seen. “El pointed at him, at his picture. She knew he was missing. I could tell.”

“You could tell?” Lucas questions, Dustin’s gaze straying over to the girls.

“Just think about it,” Mike begins. “Do you really think it was a coincidence that we found them on Mirkwood, the same place where Will disappeared.”

“That is weird,” Dustin agrees.

“And they said that bad people were after them,” Mike goes on. “I think that these bad people are the same ones that took Will. I think she knows what happened to him.”

“Then why doesn’t one of them tell us?” Lucas asks, crossing his arms. Lucas glances over at the girls before he stalks over, towering over Five, who was still on the floor, and meeting Eleven’s gaze. “Do you know where he is?” Lucas asks. When neither of the girls respond, he reaches out, grabbing Eleven’s shoulder and shaking her violently. “Do you know where Will is?”

A terrified look spreads across Eleven’s face and Five stands up, forcing Lucas away from her.

“Stop it,” Mike says, “you’re scaring her!”

“She should be scared!” Lucas replies. “If you know where he is, tell us!” Eleven’s eyes water and FIve turns around, wrapping her sister in a warm, comforting hug. “This is nuts. We have to take her to your mom.

“No!” Mike replies. “Eleven said telling any adult would put us in danger.”

“What kind of danger?” Dustin asks, turning his attention back to Mike.

“Her name is Eleven?” Lucas asks, glancing over at the girls again and noticing the ‘011’ tattooed on Eleven’s arm, and the ‘005’ tattooed on Five’s.

“El for short,” Mike replies.

“Mike, what kind of danger?” Dustin questions again.

Mike raises his hand, leaving his index and middle fingers - as well as his thumb - extended, making the shape of a gun. He points first at Dustin, then himself, and then finally, Lucas.

Lucas smacks Mike’s hand. “No, no, no!” Lucas replies. “We’re going back to plan A. We’re telling your mom,” Lucas walks towards the door, opens it, but it slams shut, shaking the shelves around the room. He opens the door again, but once again, it slams shut.

“No,” Eleven replies, and, where Five had been standing, a Rottweiler snarls. Eleven rests her hand on the dog’s back, and she sits down, a growl rumbling in her throat.

The three boys stare at Eleven and Five, and after a moment, the Rottweiler’s head tilts, and Five shifts back into herself.

Both girls wipe the blood from below their noses.

. . .

Scott Clarke, one of the boys’ teachers blows his whistle, a few times.

“You got something?” Hopper asks, he, Powell, and Callaghan heading down the hill to where Scott is kneeling in front of a drainage pipe.

“Not sure,” Scott replies, holding two pieces that looked as though they had been torn off a hospital gown. “Maybe nothing.”

“No way a kid crawls through there,” Powell replies.

“If they’re scared enough, one might,” Hopper replies. “His brother said he was good at hiding.”

Standing up, he follows the length of the pipe up to the fence for Hawkins National Lab.

. . .

Eleven is fiddling with Mike’s super-comm again as the two girls are sitting down in the blanket fort.

“El? Five?” Mike descends the stairs carrying a tray with two plates of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and corn, as well as two glasses of milk.

Dustin and Lucas descend the stairs just after Mike, remaining farther away as Mike sets the tray down in front of the girls.

“No adults,” Mike says. “Just us and some dinner.”

“Thanks, Mike,” Five says, smiling slightly.

The boy blinks in reply, but then smiles as Five hands her sister a plate.

Eleven glances up at Dustin and Lucas.

“Don’t worry. They won’t tell anyone about you. They promise. Right?” Mike looks up at his friends for confirmation.

“We never would’ve upset you if we knew you had superpowers,” Dustin says and Five lets out a breath of laughter.

Dustin looks pleased with himself, but Mike reaches over, smacking his friend’s leg.

“What Dustin was trying to say is that they were just scared . . . earlier,” Mike goes on. “That’s all.”

“We just wanted to find our friend,” Lucas adds and Five’s expression softens.

“‘Friend’?” El echoes.

“Yeah, friend. Will?” Lucas offers.

“What is ‘friend’?” El asks.

“Is she serious?” Lucas questions and Dustin shrugs. “Um, a friend -”

“Is someone that you’d do anything for,” Mike interrupts.

“You lend them your cool stuff, like comic books and trading cards,” Dustin adds.

“And they never break a promise,” Mike chirps.

“Especially when there’s spit,” Lucas pipes up.

“Spit?” El echoes.

“Yeah,” Lucas replies, holding out his hand, spitting on it, and shaking Dustin’s hand. “A spit swear means . . . you never break your word. It’s a bond.”

“That’s super important,” Mike pipes up, “because friends . . . they tell each other things. Things that parents don’t know.”

Eleven is looking down, her gaze fixed on her lap before her gaze flicks up to meet Mike’s.

. . .

Eleven walks over to the card table, where the party’s game of Dungeons and Dragons sits on the table.

“El?” Five follows her sister, watching over her sister’s shoulder as Eleven rests her hands on the game board.

“What’s the weirdo doing?” Lucas whispers.

Closing her eyes, Eleven concentrates, and then picks up Will’s D&D figurine. She studies it closely before setting it aside. She uses her arms to a move all the other pieces out of the way before she grips the board, flipping it upside down. Eleven places Will’s figure on the upside down board.

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, looking confused, sitting down in a chair adjacent to Eleven’s.

“Hiding,” Eleven says softly.

“Will is hiding?” Mike asks.

Eleven nods.

Lucas and Dustin lean over Eleven’s shoulders, watching both Eleven and the figurine on the board carefully.

“From the bad men?” Mike questions and Eleven shakes her head. “Then from who?”

Eleven lifts another figure before placing it on the board with Will’s figure.

Five stares at the figure, her eyes widening slightly. “Demogorgon,” Five murmurs.

Word Count: 2763 words

Taglist:

@bennzzo​

@kqmui���

@fall-08​

@stardustmars0305

@etheriaaly

@yan-yans-addiction

#max mayfield x reader #max mayfield x fem reader #max mayfield x female reader #eleven x reader #eleven x female reader #eleven x fem reader #eleven x sister reader #el hopper x reader

[boysdontcryboycry]

uuhhhhh so it's like . super weird that el was able to channel will singing on the supercomm in 1.04, right? like she does it with a normal nosebleed, making eye contact with mike, whereas every other time she's channeled someone over a speaker she had to be in deep concentration like when she first did it in the lab and when she used the heathkit at the school, or better yet in the sensory deprivation bath, but the very first time she does it like it's nothing?

like noooo clue what was so special about this one, like is it her connection with will that has to this day never been explained, despite requiring more assistance every time she looks for will? is it possibly bepowered mike and his distress giving her a boost? is will hiding in the upside down wheeler basement at this moment and the metaphysical lack of distance makes it easier? urnwatch is SO fun for making these little discoveries and i love finding more questions that will never be answered.

[cowboykeery]

original post for tagging reason - part 3 tagging

@castielss @davinaclaires @ladybokatankryze @robinbukley @elenas @thehetfield @blackmascara @luke-skywalker @erikkarlsson @patheticversace @munsonstrange @stargazingcarol @kingofscoops @sonuvawitch @chrrispine @michaelwheelers @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @riettveld @calkesits @legospiderman @yelenafbelova @ladyfogg @twinkiemaximoff @evanpeters @marvel-djarin @nbrevan @crankynewt @slashersteve @skullrock @monroe-marilyn @carlos-reyess @nick-nelson @kingstcvc @scoopsahoy @bluebellbrooke @supercomms @stevesnailbat @harrington-thedad @nanianela @matbaynton

[bixxelated]

Wavelength

Chapter 2: Landmines

(archiveofourown) (previous) (fic index) (next)

--o--o--o--

Mike jolts awake with a strangled gasp, his heart racing in his chest, goosebumps trailing down his spine.

Just a dream, it was just a dream, you’re okay, you were just dreaming…

Wiping his wet eyes, he does his best to stifle his panting and tries not to give in to the tightness in his chest, sitting up so that he can focus on breathing in slowly and deeply. 

Inhale as he counts to five. Hold it in, count to eight… and then count to seven as he exhales. Five, eight, seven. And again. And again.

He follows this pattern for several minutes, pulling in air all the way down to his belly until his heartbeat finally starts to slow down. Once the last screams of his nightmares fade away, with one final exhale he looks over at the numbers blinking on his digital alarm clock, bright red blaring in the darkness of the room. 5:33 AM. Yeah that’s… typical.

Groaning, Mike falls back onto his pillow, but he only lets himself lie there for 10 more minutes before he finally admits that he's not getting any more sleep today. Not like he ever does.

He sighs as he climbs out of bed to change out of his pajamas, his body aching with exhaustion. Might as well get ready for school before Nancy goes and hogs the bathroom again. Such a shame, too, he'd been having such a good dream before it turned for the worst, about a girl he'd found in the woods who was like him… 

Except then he finds the pile of muddy clothes he'd shoved away yesterday into the corner of his room, and he realizes it wasn't a dream at all.

Heart rate picking up again, he exhales shakily and lets his senses unfurl beyond his bedroom. Nancy and Baby Holly are still asleep, but Mom’s already awake, sleepily shuffling around her room getting ready for the day while Dad snores away in bed. And stretching further downwards, he finds the girl from the woods still hidden in the basement where he left her. 

El’s still comfortably curled up in his blanket fort, but to his surprise she’s quite awake despite the early hour. She’s fiddling with something in her hands, some sort of object, he can’t quite tell…

And then she stops, and lifts her head upwards in curiosity—at an angle looking directly back at him.

With a strangled gasp, Mike loses his concentration, the bubble of awareness popping until it’s just him in his bedroom again.

No one’s ever reacted to the sensory aspect of his powers before. 

He forgoes changing or getting ready in favor of sneaking out of his room, quietly tiptoeing down the stairs and creeping all the way down into the basement.

El peeks out under the blanket fort as soon as he comes down.

“Hey El.” Despite the early morning exhaustion, he manages to dredge up a sliver of cheerfulness for her. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

She shakes her head, eyebags almost as dark as his.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night?”

She shrugs before going back to tinkering with what he now sees is his walkie-talkie.

“Mm, yeah me neither. I see you found my supercomm though. Pretty cool, huh?” 

He holds a hand out, and when she gives him the supercomm he tweaks the knob a little, static morphing and wavering with the motion. “I use it to talk to my friends.” He explains to her. “The signal’s usually pretty weak—most of the time I can only reach Lucas ‘cause he lives so close to me. But I can do this..."

It takes a bit of concentration, gathering up a handful of his power until with one sharp effort he pushes it all into the radio. El's tired eyes widen as it crackles and whines with feedback.

"—and it increases the range so that I can talk to Dustin and even Will from their houses too. For a short while at least." He blows out a short breath and hands the supercomm back to her, although she doesn’t seem interested in it anymore, looking up at him with her big brown eyes instead.

Mike clears his throat. “Are you hungry? Mom’s a really good cook. She hasn’t made breakfast yet, but I can save you something if you like.”

She doesn’t answer, only keeping that wide gaze on him. That laser focus would be intimidating were she any other person, but Mike can barely stop himself from staring back at El too. The sight of another kid with powers is mesmerizing. He hardly wants to look away.

"So," he forces himself to go on. "I know I told you I would help you, but I don’t exactly know how to do that… usually I would just tell my mom so that she can handle it, call the authorities, send you back where you came from. But…” he cocks his head, watching her grow frightened at the proposal. "I don't think that's such a good idea, is it?"

“No." She says.

Mike gnaws at his bottom lip, gaze falling to the floor. Dread sinks heavy into his stomach. "…You're in trouble, aren't you?"

"Yes."

“Who… who are you in trouble with?”

“Bad.” She explains, gaze distant.

“Bad? Bad people?”

A nod.

“They wanna hurt you? The bad people?”

El says nothing, only bends her fingers into the shape of a gun, and presses it up against her temple. After a moment, she then turns her hand on him as well and Mike can’t stop himself from recoiling with a shiver.

“Understand?” She says.

Mike does understand. He wishes he didn’t.

--o--

Karen’s mind is still foggy and slow when she puts on the finishing touches of her makeup and makes her way down to the kitchen. It's not exactly elegant—she's lucky that Ted doesn't wake up with her clumsy stumbling, her body still weighed down with exhaustion until she gets that first cup of coffee.  

It’s a bit of a challenge to prepare breakfast so early in the morning, but it’s a challenge that she’s well prepared for. With one teenage daughter, a pre-teen son and a toddler to look after in the house, she’s no stranger to running on little sleep.  With all the things she has to do—including but not limited to: keeping track of school and clubs, doctor’s appointments and therapies, groceries, laundry, cooking, cleaning, house and car maintenance, etcetera, etcetera—it’s a wonder that she manages to sleep at all. It’s a full time job running around keeping everyone’s schedules on track.

It’s not that she’s ungrateful, of course. She’s blessed to have the life she has; blessed to have a husband who’s good to her and three darling little angels. It would just be nice to be able to sleep in every once in a while too.

She’s so focused on making sure to set out all of the necessary ingredients that a sudden sharp ringing nearly startles her out of her skin. Clutching her chest, it takes a moment for Karen to realize the ringing is coming from the phone, and then another for her to realize that the phone is ringing.

Well that’s certainly one way to get me wide awake. Cracking one last yawn, she spares a confused glance towards the clock as she makes her way towards the phone. 6:28 AM. Just early enough for twilight to barely start seeping into the darkness outside the windows. Who would call this early in the morning?

The phone clicks as she picks it up . “Wheeler residence, this is Karen speaking.”

“Um, uh, hey Karen. It’s Joyce.”

Karen pauses and softens immediately. “Joyce? Hey, how are you?”

“I’m—well, I’m… doing the best I can, I guess, I… s-sorry to call you so early in the day.”

“No, no, no worries, I was already up anyway. Just preparing breakfast.” 

“Oh that’s, that’s good. Um. I wanted to ask you a favor? Jonathan needs to go over to the Xerox store to make some—some copies, but I need to stay here to wait for news and I-I don’t want him to go by himself…” A shaky sigh. “I was hoping you could take him?”

“Of course, Joyce, anything.” Karen replies, forcing lightheartedness into her tone of voice. It’s hard not to feel such dread when little Will’s disappearance hits so close to home. “I’ll make sure to head over as soon as everyone’s off to school. Let me know if I can be of help with anything else, okay?”

Joyce murmurs a distracted thanks and hangs up. Karen places the phone back on its base and leans forward on the kitchen counter, sighing into her hands. 

It’s not the same, she tells her racing heart. It’s not the same thing at all, but it doesn’t stop the chills from seeping down her spine as her mind dredges up unpleasant memories.

"...Mom?"

It takes a moment to remember that she’s warm and safe in the comfort of her own kitchen. Karen blinks and looks over her shoulder to see Mike standing by the entrance, clad in his pajamas with his face scrunched up against the bright kitchen lights.

"Hey Michael." She greets quietly, mustering a weak smile just for him. "What are you doing up so early in the morning?” 

"I… I just… I had a nightmare. Couldn't sleep."

“Oh I’m sorry to hear that honey.” She frowns, noting that he’s standing by the wrong entrance. “I didn’t hear you come down the stairs, did you sleep in the basement again?”

Mike shrugs, looking down at the ground.

She sighs, crossing her arms. “Mike, you know that you’re not supposed to stay down there all night. You won’t rest any better if you’re outside of bed, remember?”

“I know.” Mike gnaws at his lip. “I just… it’s hard to sleep anyway…”

“Oh honey…” Her eyes soften, and she walks over to cup his face in her hands. "Is it because of Will?"

He hesitates, and then nods.

“Oh… I know, Michael, I know... all this that’s been going on with Will, I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you. I know it’s a scary situation, believe me I do, but it won’t help to worry yourself sick over Will.”

“I can’t help it. He’s my friend.” His eyes are reddened around the edges from lack of sleep, and glinting when he looks up at her. “One of my best friends.”

“And he’s already got a lot of people looking for him, okay?” She insists, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his eye. “People who are well-equipped to find him. It might feel like no one cares because you can’t see it with your own eyes, but I assure you they are doing everything they can to get him home. Everything. Okay?”

“Okay…”

“Attaboy. Now, I was just about to start with breakfast, you hungry? How do waffles sound for today? With some whipped cream and strawberries?” 

“I mean… yeah… but… Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think…” Mike hesitates. “Do you think I could maybe stay home today?”

That gives her pause. “I don’t know, Michael…”

“Please? My attendance has been really good this year, and—Lucas can bring over our homework and lend me his notes so I don’t fall behind.”

“Even so… I just think it’d be better if you tried to have a normal day instead of just driving yourself crazy with worry in here, all alone…. School would help you keep your mind off of things.”

Mike slowly blows out a breath through his teeth. “I just feel like I’m not gonna be able to focus anyway. Like… school is going to stress me out even more.”

She eyes him thoroughly. “You sure?”

Mike nods.

“Well then…” She bites her lip. “Okay. Just for today. But I want you to get a few more hours of rest while you’re here, okay? You’re a growing boy, and your sleeping patterns are erratic enough.”

“Yeah, of course.”

--o--

Mike does not get any more sleep. 

Instead, what he does is bring El up and out of the basement as soon as Mom leaves with Holly for errands. Dustin and Lucas are gonna be so pissed when they find out that he’s ditching for seemingly no reason, but he doesn’t see any other choice. He needs to get more information out of El, and he can’t do that and hide her at the same time if the guys are there, and this could be important, it could be relevant to Will’s disappearance, he can't afford to wait until after school.

Watching El explore the house is a study in sadness. Mike is incredibly reminded of a day a couple of years back, when they went over to Dustin’s house to meet a recently adopted baby Mews. The kitten would stalk around just as carefully as El was doing, trying to figure out whether the new environment it found itself in was safe or not. 

The way El drinks his house in like she’s never seen any of it before, the thoroughness with which she looks over everything as if it's the only opportunity she'll get to brand them into her memory—it makes him nauseous. What kind of life was she living before he found her, if she doesn't even know what a refrigerator is?

She’s a kid. She’s just a kid, just like him. The toys, the TV, Dad’s La-Z-Boy, the family photos, this is all stuff she should already know about. Stuff she should already have. She should be growing up safe and happy, not living on the run from bad men that want to use her for her powers. It makes a familiar bitterness rise and clog up the back of his throat.

Who we are and what we can do is unique, and one-of-a-kind, and special. That’s what all the movies and comics and books say. But instead of celebrating our abilities and using them to make the world better, we have to hide and live in fear because it would be so easy for evil people to hurt us otherwise.

If things were different, that could’ve been him. If his circumstances had changed even a little bit, if his powers were flashier, if he'd blabbed the wrong thing to the wrong person, that could’ve been him.

Mike goes upstairs to his room. He plants himself on his bed and forces his lungs to breathe steadily until he can choke the anger and fear back down into the deep dark hole where they belong. He doesn’t want the black tangle of his emotions to ruin El's exploration of the house. She deserves to have the whole experience unmarred by his anxiety acting up.

Of course, she notices his absence and goes to find him anyway. “Mike?”

Mike sighs, runs a hand through his hair and looks up at her. “Sorry,” he tells her. “It’s not you. I just needed a moment. I’m kind of high-strung.”

El cocks her head. “High… strung?”

“It—” he grapples with the right words to explain it, “it means that I feel emotions really strongly all the time, and I get upset very fast because of it.”

“Oh.” El says, but doesn’t make any moves to leave the room. 

Mike watches wearily as she checks over all his stuff with the same meticulousness she’s given the rest of the house. Then her eyes fall onto a certain photograph, the one of the Party celebrating last year's victory at the science fair, and she pauses, and taps it with her index finger.

The molten power in her body spikes at once, and Mike is unable to stop his own from doing the same on reflex. All at once, images crash into his mind, flashing, jumbled, overwhelming:

—bare feet standing on lightless black water—

—looking up worriedly at his best friend under the dim garage lights—

—bolting out of the tunnel into the forest where there’s cover—

—swerving off of Mirkwood and crashing into the undergrowth—

—fleeing from the sirens blaring in the distance—

—shaking hands loading bullets into the gun, just like Dad showed him—

—a face peeling open like flower petals, revealing rows and rows of jagged teeth—

“Will!” Mike gasps, and jerks so upright he bangs his head on the top of his bunk bed. 

The pain snaps him out of the visions. Yelping, he curls in on himself, cradling his head until he can recover enough to look up at El with watery eyes. “What was that? Did you see that too? Did you see Will?”

El says nothing, face pale.

“El please, this is important. I—" he swallows. "That kid you pointed at? In the picture? His name is Will, and he’s in trouble, he’s missing, and that’s why I was out in that storm yesterday, I was looking for him. Do you know him?”

“Missing.” El repeats quietly.

"Yeah, he—no one’s seen him since Sunday. Did you see Will last night? On the road?” She doesn’t answer. “Do you know where he is?”

El bites her lip.

“El, do you know where Will is?” Mike repeats. “Do you know what happened to him? Do… do the Bad Men have him?”

Timidly, she meets his gaze. “No.”

Mike’s heart is trying so hard to beat its way out of his chest. It should be a relief to know that Will hasn’t been kidnapped by some secret evil organization, but it’s a small mercy at best. Because if Will isn’t being held captive in some top secret cell, then where is he? Why hasn’t he come home? And why is El so frightened by all these questions?

Mike doesn’t have time to ask her any more. A familiar voice calls his name from downstairs—Mom’s voice. He hadn’t realized before, but she’s come back home, and she’s now coming up the stairs.

He needs to hide El.

--o--

Never let it be said that when presented with a mission, Lucas Sinclair is not the man for the challenge. 

Granted, all things considered, breaking out of Middle School isn’t exactly a challenge. There are very few teachers willing to deal with them hellions during lunch break unless someone like Troy is causing too much of a ruckus to ignore. All they need to do is squeeze through the hole in the fence behind the outdoor bathrooms while everyone’s busy getting their lunch and tables from the cafeteria. From there it’s a simple walk round the hill up to the high school, from an angle where they won’t draw so much attention. 

Finding Nancy might present more of a challenge, but they get lucky this time. Lucas easily spots her eating lunch with one of her friends over on the outdoor lunch tables. Barb, he thinks. He’s seen her around the Wheelers’ often enough to recognize her short red hair and taller figure.

Lucas points the pair out to Dustin, and trots over in their direction. “Hey. Hey Nancy!”

“Nancy!” Dustin also calls as they approach.

“Oh my god.” Nancy puts her sandwich down in surprise. “Lucas? Dustin?”  

“What are you two doing here?” Barb blinks from beside her. 

“We snuck out.” Dustin admits unabashedly. “We need to talk to you.”

Nancy’s mouth twists in displeasure as she takes the two of them in. “I’m pretty sure little kids aren’t allowed out of the middle school without permission. Do you know how much trouble you’re going to be in when the teachers realize you’re missing?”

“No one needs to know unless you tattle on us.” Lucas crosses his arms and juts out his chin defiantly.

“Yeah, it’s not a permanent breakout, we’ll break right back in, we just wanted to ask some questions.” Dustin nods.

“Where’s Mike?” Lucas gets to the point, brow wrinkling. “Is he okay? Why didn’t he come to school today? Is he sick?”

This seems to be news to Barb as well, who frowns when she turns to Nancy. “Mike didn’t go to school today?” 

Nancy hesitates for a second before she shrugs it off. “Mike’s—fine, he’s just rattled about all this stuff with Will.” She tells them all primly. “Mom decided it was better if he took the day off, you know how it is.”

Lucas does know how it is, which is why they went to all the effort to get some info from the closest source available after no one answered home at the Wheelers. It’d been pretty alarming to see Mike’s empty desk this morning after yesterday’s announcement that Will had gone missing. 

So it should be a relief to hear that things are… relatively fine on Mike’s end. Nancy certainly doesn’t look particularly worried about it, but Lucas also knows that since she started high school, Nancy and Mike usually just stick to each doing their own thing. It wouldn’t surprise him if she missed something being truly off with him.

 “He is okay, though?” Lucas insists. “No attacks or anything?”

“No. At least not that I know of.” Nancy huffs. “He was his usual annoying little self from what I could see this morning, so go back to school before someone thinks we helped you break out.”

Dustin and Lucas share a glance, considering, before nodding. That’s really all they’re going to get out of Nancy until they see Mike themselves later this afternoon.

After all, one member of the Party is already missing. They can’t afford to lose another one if they’re going to get Will back.

“Alright, thanks girls!” Dustin says. 

“Remember, if anyone asks, you didn’t see us.” Lucas adds, with a pointed ‘I’m-watching-you’ motion. Nancy rolls her eyes at him, but Barb salutes the both of them with no air of sarcasm to it, which immediately makes her his favorite in his books.

It's not much information, but it's enough to make a plan now at least. And so they’re off.

--o--

When Mike flings his bedroom door open it’s just in time. His mom stands on the other side, one fist poised to knock while the other keeps Baby Holly up against her waist. Surprise flicks across her face for a second before it softens. “Hey, bud, how are you holding up? Have a nice nap?”

“Um,” Mike shrugs wearily, picking at the pants of his pajamas. “Yeah, I guess…”

“Listen... I had an idea. Since you’re not at school today, how about Holly, you and I head over to Joyce’s house in a bit, just to pop in and see how she’s doing, offer some friendly support. This way, you’re not stuck in this big house all alone and... I’m sure she’ll be glad to see some friendly faces as well. What do you think, sound good?”

Mike pauses, tries not to let on how distracting the buzzing beehive of El’s emotions are, radiating as they are from his closet behind him. “I don’t—I don’t know, Mom… I—do we have to go right now?” 

“Well, I’m just going to quickly whip something up to take over to Joyce, so that should give you time to arrange yourself into something appropriate, but yes we’ll be leaving soon.” 

“I just think…” It’s hard to think of a proper excuse with all the noise, “I’d rather stay here for the day... maybe get some more sleep?”

Mom frowns, looking him over. “I don’t want you to sleep the day away either, hon. It’ll be better if you have something to keep you occupied, and we won’t be over long anyway.” She replies firmly. “ We’re leaving in an hour, so make sure to be ready by then, okay?”

“I… okay.”

Mom nods and walks away. Even though his eyes are watering, Mike waits for her to reach the bottom of the stairs before he finally darts back into his room.

“El?” He calls for her as loudly as he dares, beelining for the closet. “Is everything okay? Eleven?”

When he opens the door, Mike doesn’t need psychic empathy to realize that asking El to hide in the closet was probably the worst plan he could have come up with at the moment. It’s pretty obvious in of itself when he finds her curled up into a ball on the floor, pressed as far back as she can go, fear and sadness and hurt wafting off of her in erratic waves. She looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Mike.”

“Oh,” he says, and kneels down with her. “El? Are you okay?”

El’s breath hitches, and for a moment he thinks she might burst into tears, but she nods instead.

“Are you sure?”

She nods again, and the frenzied static of her emotions starts smoothing out. “Promise.”

The way she says the word is so heavy with meaning that Mike sees no other choice but to believe her, even without the external evidence telling him she’s calming down. “I’m really sorry I made you hide in the closet. I didn’t—I should have realized it was one of your landmines.”

She swipes at her eyes. “Landmines?”

“It’s a term Lucas came up with. It’s stuff that you usually have to avoid doing or talking about because if you don’t it’ll blow up in your head and hurt you, but like, mentally.” Mike explains. He hesitates before adding, “when... when I hit a landmine I get so scared I get these—these crying fits, and I get really dizzy and it’s hard to breathe. It feels like I’m dying or something. Is that what it feels like for you?”

She nods slowly.

“I should have realized you didn’t like closed spaces when you didn’t want me to shut the bathroom door yesterday. That’s one of your landmines, I think.” Mike holds a hand out. “Come on, let’s get you out of that closet.”

She grabs his hand. As soon as their skin makes contact a jolt of electricity runs through Mike’s body like a live wire, and he flinches and immediately lets go—

But not before his clothes blast off of their hangers and come falling down all over the two of them like goose feathers.

Thankfully, Eleven isn’t overly frightened by the incident; just a bit startled as she pulls a sweatshirt off her head. “Mike?”

“Agh, sorry.” Mike shakes the excess energy off of his hands, his skin tingling from where it touched El’s sweaty palms. Whew. She’s so strong. “That’s my bad, sorry. I lost control a bit.”

Crap, he’s gonna have to work on that, isn’t he? The same thing happened earlier when El got those visions of Will with the science fair photograph. If Mike’s powers keep acting up every time Eleven uses her powers near him, every time she even touches him, someone’s gonna figure out something’s up real quick, and that’s the absolute last thing he needs to deal with right now.

Years and years of having superpowers, and he’s only just now realizing he needs to learn to control them. He can’t believe he didn’t think of that before now.

Well to be fair, he thinks somewhat bitterly, it’s not like there’s ever been anyone around whose had powers I could lose control with, let alone use to help me practice.

El frowns at him, and looks between his hands and her own. “I... hurt you?”

“No, no, no, it just took me by surprise, that’s all. I’m not used to being around someone else with powers.” He admits, crossing his arms and tucking his hands under his armpits. “Before you came along... I was the only one in town like this.”

“The only one?”

“Yeah. I mean I looked, but….” He shrugs. He’d never seen anyone else with that certain aura of… of something more , something brighter so to speak, that gave away that a person was not what they’d seemed. As far as he could tell there was no one else like that in Hawkins. Not until El had shown up.

El goes quiet at that, and after a moment Mike shakes the thought off and tentatively tries to bring her out of the closet again. Power hums ominously inside of him when he grabs Eleven’s hand, but he’s careful to push it down as he helps her up this time. The trophies on his shelves rattle suspiciously, but Mike manages to help El out without incident, so he counts that as a victory. Hopefully, the first of many.

He can do this. He just needs to go slow and be patient. Take it step-by-step. He’ll adjust and they’ll find Will and he’ll figure out a way to help El and everything will go back to normal before he knows it. He can totally do this.

--o--

When the Wheelers arrive at the Byers’, Mike is caught off guard by the gloomy sight of it. The house that’s always been like a second home to Mike is almost unrecognizable with how… cold… it looks.

It's strange. Nothing has physically changed inso far as he can tell, but it looms in a way it never has before. Although Mike’s only ever been able to sense other living creatures, he can’t shake the idea that the house feels gloomy and hollow—he’d go so far as to call it lifeless even.

Whether she can sense it or not, it’s clear that the ambient is putting a toll on Mrs. Byers. He’s long learned to adjust to the uncomfortable prickle of her stress buzzing in the background whenever he comes over, but now it’s escalated into a frenzied static that’s painful enough to make his eyes water, when she opens the door to Mom’s knock. 

Mike winces and takes a subtle step back to put Mom as a shield between them, even as Mom greets her with a shaky but sympathetic smile.

“Joyce! Hi! I brought you a casserole.” She lifts the tin-foil covered dish in explanation. “It’s not baked yet though. I hope you don’t mind. I figure it’d be better to pop into the oven here instead of letting it get cold on the way.”

It takes a moment for Mrs. Byers to blink past her surprise and usher them in. “Oh, uh, no—that’s, that’s fine, please, come in.” 

She pauses in surprise when Mike walks past her. “Mike? Hey, what are you doing here, kiddo? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“No, I… um…” Mike turns sheepishly to his own mother.

“Oh, Michael didn’t feel comfortable going to school after hearing about Will.” Mom explains apologetically. “So I figured that it couldn’t hurt to miss one day of classes. I hope that’s okay? That he’s here?”

“Oh, no, it’s—it’s absolutely fine, I understand completely.” Mrs. Byers smiles thinly, leading them over to the dining area. “I’m sorry about all this Mike. Kids your age shouldn’t have to deal with this sort of situation.”

Mike shrugs uncomfortably, unsure of what to say in face of the yawning abyss of her grief and worry.

“Neither should their mothers.” Mom adds, squeezing Mrs. Byers’ shoulder. “Especially not alone. I hope you know that we’re here for your family if you need us. For anything at all.”

“I appreciate that, Karen, thank you.” Mrs. Byers says quietly, and gently takes the casserole from Mom’s arms to put it into the oven. 

“So, um.” Mom starts awkwardly. “Where’s Jonathan? I thought he’d be here with you.”

“Oh… no… I just—I didn’t want him waiting here with me all day long, so I sent him to school. Better that he keeps himself busy, at least.”

“I can understand that.” She shoots a quick glance at Mike as if to say, see? “How’s he been holding up with… with all this?”

“Well,” Mrs. Byers sighs. “What can I say? He’s my rock. You know, he’s always been good at taking care of himself and—us, and I’m proud of him for that but... I just worry that sometimes that keeps him from depending on me in return...” 

As Mom and Mrs. Byers solemnly chat, Mike swallows and wanders off into the rest of the house.

It’s not what Mom intended from the visit, but he’d been wanting to take a look around anyway. He doesn’t think it’ll help much. From what he gathered from the Chief yesterday, as far as anyone can tell Will disappeared in the woods on his way home. But still, short of going back to Mirkwood, it doesn’t hurt to look for clues, for something that might be missed by normal eyes. 

It's harder than he expected. Mike shudders as he rounds the living room, and heads to the dim hallway that leads to the bedrooms. To call it eerie would be an understatement. Just like outside, every inch of the rooms inside are cold and subdued, as if Will’s disappearance took all warmth along with him. Mike would certainly believe it.

He finds Chester in Will’s bedroom, curled up on the bed with his scruffy nose tucked into the quilt looking sad and subdued. Mike sighs deeply and settles down next to him, the old springs creaking under the added weight.

He’s not sure what Mom hoped to accomplish by bringing him here. It doesn’t help any—he just feels more depressed.

“You miss him, huh?” Mike tells Chester softly, stroking the wiry hairs behind his floppy ears like he likes. 

Chester whines at him.

“Me too, buddy. I’m trying to find him,” Mike confesses frustratedly, “but it’s—it’s a work in progress. I just don’t know where to start.”

Will’s lamp flickers at that moment. Mike and Chester both snap up their heads to stare at it, but it turns off after a moment and remains dark and quiet.

And then, the telephone rings.   

Even as far away as he is in Will’s bedroom, the noise startles him. Chester immediately leaps off the bed to go running into the hallway, barking wildly like he’s never seen him do before, and Mike follows right at his heels, peeking out of the bedroom to see Mrs. Byers rush over to the phone.

“Hello?” She answers desperately, clutching the yellow plastic like a lifeline. Chester dances around her feet, still barking like there’s no tomorrow, and Mom watches worriedly while rocking a startled Holly on her hip. “Hello? Who is this?” 

A pause, as she listens. And then a small whimper, and the one word he’d never think would come out of her mouth at that moment. “…Will?”

Mike’s chest goes cold.

“Will? Baby—baby, it’s me. It’s Mom. Talk to me.” Mrs. Byers’ shaky voice gasps. “I, I-I can hear you, just—talk to me, please.”

Another pause, as Mrs. Byers listens, but whatever she does or doesn’t hear can’t be any good, because she visibly shakes all over as she curls into herself, clutching the phone even tighter in her hands. 

Chester barks his absolute head off. Mom tucks Holly’s little head into her shoulder, partly to comfort Holly and partly to comfort herself, looking frightened beyond anything he’s ever seen or felt from her before.

“Will! Will, yes, it’s me, please, just talk to me, just tell me where you are, please baby, I’ll find you, I promise, talk to me honey—”    

And then the lights in the whole house flicker, and a high-pitched whining is their only warning before the phone crackles with electricity so strong he sees it arc into Mrs. Byers hands, causing her to scream and drop the phone into the floor. 

In the span of less than a second, the plastic’s warped and gone black with extreme heat, and when Mike starts to smell the acrid burning of it all the way over from the other end of the hallway, his lungs forget how to breathe for a moment.

“No. No!” Mrs. Byers whimpers, immediately dropping to the floor to scramble at the phone in spite of her blistered fingers. “No, no, no, no, it was Will, he was there, I heard him, it was his voice—” 

“Joyce,” Mom tries, still rocking Holly as she gets increasingly upset with the noise. “the phone isn’t—please, you have to calm down—”

“But it was Will, I heard him, he was there, I just know it, he was—the same thing happened yesterday—!”

Bark! Bark, bark! Bark! Bark! Bark!

The pandemonium is overwhelming. Mom’s eyes dart uncertainly from Mrs. Byers to Chester to Holly before finally landing on him, and when she sees him her face hardens with decision all at once.

“Michael,” she hisses, putting a whining Holly down. “Come get your sister. I need you to take her outside right now.”

“But—”

“Right. Now.” She growls, her voice lined with a steely edge that he’s never heard before, especially not directed at him. All the hairs in his body stand up straight, even as he goes to fetch Holly. 

“Go play with Chester in the front yard.” Mom tells him, helping Mrs. Byers to her feet. “Go!”

And so Mike has no choice but to obey.

Chester turns to scratch and whine at the front door as soon as it closes behind him, and nothing will pull him away from it short of dragging him by his collar, which Mike isn’t strong enough for, so he doesn’t bother trying. 

Mrs. Byers is emitting such a strong, eclectic blast of emotions that even from outside the house the bombardment is giving him a headache. And Baby Holly is rapidly gearing up for a full-grown tantrum, so he takes Holly far out of range, all the way over to the edge of the tree line down the driveway in the hopes of distracting her before she gets too overwhelmed. This at least is something he can do.

Usually no one but Mom can get her to calm down when she’s exposed to too many loud noises, so it’s a bit of a gamble to try redirecting her to the piles of leaves gathered around the floor, but the quiet and games seem to work well enough for once. Holly quickly entices him into a few rounds of patty cakes, and he tries to play along, careful to hide his worry from her even though his heart thumps wildly in his chest and his lungs are working harder than usual to breathe. 

Baby Holly’s enthusiasm is contagious though, and helps calm him down. He’s just barely starting to settle into the rhythm of it when a scream rings out from within the house. 

“Mom!?” He yelps. His heart jumps to his throat, and he leaps up to his feet at once, but there’s no need—Mom bursts out of the house not a moment later, dragging Mrs. Byers with her, and both of their faces are whiter than he’s ever seen them. 

Chester likewise only takes one step inside the house before he yelps and comes speeding right out with his tail in between his legs. Something’s got them downright spooked. 

Mom ignores the fleeing dog in favor of rounding the house, and confusion blooms amidst her fear when she stops in front of the windows, as if expecting to see something there. She feels around the glass and wooden frame before looking around the surrounding bushes and trees with wide eyes, and when her gaze falls on Holly and Mike watching from the other side of the street she stiffens.

“Kids, are you okay? Did you see something?”

Mike crinkles his nose in confusion. “No…?”

“I… I thought I saw—” Mom puts a hand to her forehead and breathes out shakily. “Nevermind. I’m just glad you’re both okay.”

--o--

When Lucas and Dustin roll up to the Wheeler’s house after school, they find that the house is quiet from the outside and the garage door is closed shut. The Wheelers usually like to keep it open when they’re home, Lucas knows, which means that no one must be inside at the moment. 

It doesn’t deter Dustin from dropping down his bike as soon as they get to the front yard, so that he can go up to the front door and bang at it frantically. “Hello? Is anyone home? Hellooo?”

Lucas slouches forward on his bike so that he can rest his chin on his hand. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s around to answer.”

“Ah well, it doesn’t hurt to check, just in case—” Dustin takes a deep breath so that he can holler out, “Mike! Are you there?! Open the door if you are, man! You got some ‘splaining to do!”

“Dustin!” Lucas hisses. “You don’t have to be so loud! I got my supercomm with me, remember?”

“Oh,” Dustin pauses. “Yeah. I forgot about that.” 

Lucas rolls his eyes and pulls his backpack off to rustle around in it as Dustin sheepishly bounds back to him. Lucky that he thought to bring his radio with him today, even if he’d been hoping to use it to get a move on the search for Will. “Mike, do you copy? Me and Dustin are at your house, let us in if you can hear us.”

“Don’t forget to say over so that he knows you’re done talking.” Dustin reminds him cheerfully. 

Lucas shoots him a look, but obligingly brings the supercomm up to his mouth to add, “over.”

They wait for an answer, but several minutes pass by with nothing but radio silence to show for it. 

Lucas tries again. “Mike, are you home now? We’re at your front door and we got your homework with us, let us in so that I can give it to you.”

“Over.” Dustin adds.

“Over.” Lucas sighs into the supercomm.

It’s no use. The house and radio remain ever quiet. 

Lucas’ stomach twists unpleasantly, but he takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. It’s fine, he tells himself. Just because Will’s gone doesn’t mean he needs to jump to conclusions about every little odd thing he runs into. Best to not let his nerves get the best of him. Dustin does enough of that for the whole party, and someone needs to keep a level head to find Will.

And sure enough—“you think something happened to them?” Dustin whispers, suddenly pale and wide-eyed. “What if the monster got the Wheelers as well?”

Monster? “They’re probably out on errands or something.” Lucas says reasonably. “C’mon, we can wait for them to come back over at mine.”

He rolls his bike back without any further input from Dustin, meaning to cross the street with it, but nearly falls off when the other boy suddenly yells out of nowhere.

“Dustin, what the fuck—”  

“I saw him! He’s in there!” Dustin points several times at the window for emphasis. “I just saw Mike peeking out of his room right now!”

“What?” Great, now Dustin’s hallucinating. “No way he’s in there, why wouldn’t he answer us then?”

“It’s true, I didn’t imagine it! He was right there!” Dustin insists. He lifts both hands to cup around his mouth. “Miike! C’mon, open up! If you’re ignoring us on purpose we won’t tell you about Mr. Gursky’s assignment and you’ll have to blunder through it on your own!”

Lucas eyes the window consideringly, but nothing happens. At least, not at first. Dustin keeps yelling, and even goes so far as to pick up a pebble and lob it at the Mike's window.

The pebble hits way lower than where the window actually is, but that doesn’t stop a large pair of eyes from peeking out from the side-curtains and then disappearing just as quickly.

Lucas sucks in a breath.

“See! I told you!” Dustin exclaims.

“What the hell, Mike?” Lucas shouts up at the window. “This is not the time to go AWOL on us! Why didn’t you come to school today?”

But no one answers. 

“Welp!” Dustin says with a pop of lips. “What do we do now?”

Lucas is so mad he hops off his bike, kicking the stand out and marches over to the backyard.

“Wait, Lucas, what are you doing, where are you going? Lucas!”

With one hand, Lucas holds a finger to his mouth, motioning for silence, while the other grabs the spare key hidden under one of the planted pots.

“What?” Dustin just barely manages to contain his surprise to a whisper. “How long have you known that was there?”

“I saw Mr. Wheeler put it down there once.” Lucas explains, and inserts the key into the door. “Never really had a reason to use it before.”

“Never—? Lucas, think of all the hilarious pranks! The pranks!”

“Yeah well generally people don’t like it when you break into their houses so, shh!”

The house is empty and quiet when they slip inside, erasing any doubts that Mrs. Wheeler or Holly might be home as well. The only noise they actually get is from the TV, playing brainless commercials Lucas cares not for. It’s a good enough cover to muffle their footsteps, so Lucas motions for Dustin to follow him.

They have to be extra careful. Mike can be pretty avoidant when he wants, and he’s never been easy to sneak up on, so it’s a slow trek upstairs to make sure he absolutely can’t duck out of their ambush. 

It must work, because as they come up to the door they can hear him shuffling around his room, unaware.

Which is why Lucas is more than happy to burst through the door with a satisfied growl of, “gotcha!”

Except, it’s not Mike who’s lurking inside.

It’s not Mike who jumps and whirls around in surprise.

It’s not Mike who throws her hand out, and pins Lucas and Dustin to the walls. With her mind.

“What... the hell—?” Dustin gasps out past the paralyzation. 

Staring at the strange girl as she gasps for breath—the strange bald girl wearing Mike’s clothes standing in Mike's room, wiping her bloody nose with wide eyes as she stares right back at them—Lucas couldn’t agree more.

--o--o--o--

(archiveofourown)

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[gaygoetia]

Rewatching season one again and I really don't think, as a fandom, that we talk enough about what the fuck was going on here...

I'm talking about the meat wall scene.

Let's unpack.

At this point in time Will is in the echo of his home in the Upside Down and hiding from the Demogorgon. He can clearly hear Joyce's voice and is trying to communicate with her.

At the same time, Eleven is channeling him through the supercomm at the AV club (though it's established that Will is unaware of this and unable to hear the rest of the party, even though they can hear him.)

It's a significant turning point in the season because it's 1. The first time Lucas and Dustin get proper confirmation that Will is alive and 2. The first time Joyce actually sees and hears Will instead of just communicating through the lights.

For the first time in the series (and one of only two total instances I can think of) we see a window into the Upside Down. Not a gate - there doesn't seem to be a way to get through - but a place where the barrier between worlds is thin enough to see and hear through.

The one other time we see a window like this is when El is (briefly) trapped in the Upside Down after defeating the demogorgon at the end of season one. A flashback in season 2 shows how she stumbled across a small interdimensional window which she widens and turns into a gateway using her powers.

But how and why did this happen?

Theory 1: Basically, it's a coincidence

This is probably the most likely theory but also the most boring so I won't spend too much time on it. The gist is, we know that the mothergate Eleven opened had a big impact on Hawkins in a lot of ways and it's likely that it caused the barrier between worlds to be weaker than usual across the board. It's like when you're rolling dough; the more you stretch it, the thinner it gets and the more likely it is to break. It's possible that the "window" Will and Joyce communicated through was an area where the barrier between dimensions just happened to be stretched thinner than usual (but not quite enough to break.)

A slightly more interesting variation of this theory is that these openings might appear due to surges of psychic energy (e.g. when El uses her powers). This explanation makes a lot of sense for the second window - as it appears in the hallway where El killed several "bad men" using her powers. However, that doesn't explain the first window at the Byers House.

Theory 2: The demogorgon did it.

We know that (in addition to the mothergate) small gateways open up in proximity to the demogorgons - specifically (it's suggested) after they kill/attack someone.

The demogorgon was in close proximity during both window scenes - The scene with Eleven occurs just after she's killed the demogorgon and we know it was also present in the scene with Will, because the party hears it through the supercomm, Joyce hears it through the wall and Will runs and hides at the end because "it's coming."

But this theory doesn't quite make sense to me for a couple of reasons:

1. It doesn't match up with the demogorgon's previously displayed behaviour/abilities.

As far as I can remember, there has only been one occasion where we actually see a demogorgon opening a portal. This is when Joyce is communicating with Will through the Christmas lights and he tells her to run. She turns around and sees the demogorgon coming through the wall.

We see the wall warping and eventually breaking as the demogorgon bursts through, implying that it's essentially using force to puncture a hole in the barrier between dimensions.

We know from the gates we've seen that this barrier is basically a mass of fleshy tendrils that pulse and move as if alive. And like living flesh, it heals itself, closing up small tears shortly after they appear.

We see this happen with other small gateways, such as the one Nancy went through in the forest and we see it in the meat wall scene when the window closes up.

So if these gates are created using force, how does that fit with the interdimensional window?

Did a demogorgon apply just enough force to weaken the barrier without actually breaking through? This seems uncharacteristically precise and restrained for the demogorgon.

Alternatively maybe it's a gate they opened previously that is partway through closing up.

2. (If intentional) What possible benefit could there be for this?

The window (which is at face height for a four-foot-nine Will Byers, not for a seven-foot demogorgon) is only open briefly before closing up and as far as we see, the demogorgon doesn't interact with it whatsoever.

Would it even need to? The demogorgon doesn't have visible eyes or ears. Can it even see and hear? It seems to operate on some form of creature-sense more than anything, and we know it can detect blood even across dimensions.

Theory 3: Eleven did it.

As previously mentioned, this exchange is overheard by the Party as Eleven uses her powers to channel Will through the supercomm at the AV Club. So it's entirely possible that the window was created either intentionally by Eleven or as a side effect of this.

This isn't an ability El uses often (tbf it's very situational) and I think this is the only time in the series where we see the person while El is channeling them. But I would have thought that if a window had opened up on previous occasions where El channeled him, Will would have reacted in some way.

That said, El channels Will here through a much more powerful radio than any other previously used, which could be enhancing the effectiveness of her powers.

If Eleven did create the window (and did so intentionally) it's unclear whether this was an unsuccessful attempt to remotely open a gate or a successful attempt to enable/enhance communication between Will and Joyce/The Party.

Either way, if opening windows like this is something Eleven can do on purpose it has interesting and useful implications for later in the series.

Theory 4: Will did it

I can never resist an opportunity for a "Will has powers" theory and this is no exception.

Will, of course, has more motive than either Eleven or the Demogorgon for opening a window here. He's scared and alone, he wants to see and speak to his mom and he wants to be home and safe.

If he opened the window intentionally he may have been trying to create a gate but wasn't yet strong enough to do so. It's also entirely possible that he opened the window without even realising it was him who did it.

I'm planning to do a whole post on the "Will has powers" theory at some point but essentially there are two variations of this theory. Either Will has innate powers he was born with or he acquired them in the Upside Down.

If the former (he was born with powers), he most likely has abilities similar to Eleven and One. This means some degree of telepathy and/or telekinesis and (most significantly here) the ability to open interdimensional gates. Even if he never displayed psychic abilities previously, the trauma and helplessness of being trapped in The Upside Down may have unlocked dormant psychic abilities he already had.

If the latter (he developed powers from exposure to the Upside Down) he has a unique connection to the Upside Down that allows him to sense, communicate with and/or influence its inhabitants. If he does have these types of powers (and had them at this point in the story) he potentially willed the window to open (whether consciously or unconsciously) so he could see and talk to his mother.

Conclusion

I think we can all agree this scene was very spooky and weird as hell. But the specifics of how and why this window opened up remains a mystery. What do you think was the cause? Vote now on your phones! (By letting me know your thoughts in the tags, comments or replies)

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