So, as we've said before, two people are going to be posting on this account: AB and MG. We will take requests, so make sure to specify who you want to write it, AB, MG, or either. We will state fandoms we write for, ships we write for, what we will/won't write, etc. We will write ships, but only per request because we are terrified of ship wars.
There is a huge possibility that most fics will be somewhat OOC
There are no set post times, you may get twenty minutes or two weeks between posts, we will try to keep it consistent.
AB
Fandoms - Stranger Things, The Outsiders (the list will get bigger I promise)
Characters -
Stranger Things - Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, and Eddie Munson
The Outsiders - Dallas Winston, Darrel Curtis, and Johhny Cade
Ships I'll write - Byler, Henderhop
What I WILL write - angst, fluff, implied sexual interaction
Tags: slight fluff, implied smut??? kissing, angst, arguing, flirting, drinking, spiked drink, I think that's all
a/n: hiiiiiiiii! ☺️ I've been writing a lot, jumping between different fics, me and AB have been trying. But I finished this in three days and did it on my phone. I hope you guys enjoy!!!!
Dean Winchester x reader
Dean Winchester is a dick. I mean, really, the man left you to die. But he's so damn charming. Let's go back, before now, before you're laying on this cold concrete bleeding out from a hunt gone three days to Sunday wrong.
The day was March 19th, 1992. Your dad handed you weapons, taught you how to use them then started taking you out on hunts. You were the perfect duo. Then a vampire turned your father and you had to kill him yourself.
You hunted from age 11, killing everything in sight, saving lives, while slowly ruining yours. While families thanked you for saving them, you ended back in your old 67 fastback mustang white with blue stripes, your dad's car, driving aimlessly until you found another case. Being a hunter sucked. You did have Bobby Singer though, he gave you a couch to crash on, food to eat, a place to lay low. Anything you needed, but it still wasn't what you truly needed. That was something entirely different.
But it all changed when you walked into a bar.
You walked into a run down bar, it was called Roadside Cash. You sat down at the bar, ordered a bourbon, neat. A guy sat next to you, tall, muscular, lean, handsome none the less, and dressed in jeans, a jacket, and black shirt. He catches the bartender by saying, “Make it two,” with a sly smirk, his voice like smooth southern whiskey. Once the drinks came he started a conversation, you knew this type of man, a womanizer, but you didn't care.
“What's a pretty lady like you doin’ in this run down place?” He asks his eyes moving up and down your body, almost caressing your skin with his eyes alone.
You scoff softly, biting your lip slightly, “I needed a drink, looks like you need one,” you say teasingly, drawing a smirk from him.
He leans a little closer, close enough where you can smell his cologne. “Do I really look that bad, sweetheart?" He says with a playful bit of offense on his tongue.
Him calling you sweetheart flipped something inside, your heart racing so fast you're convinced he can hear it. “Well, I don't know. Should I be nice? Or mean?” You tease leaning closer as well.
His smirk grows wider, “A doll like you should be nice, but you got fire,” he leans in, his breath tickling your ear, making your breath hitch. “So be mean, darlin’.”
A soft blush creeps up your neck. “What's your name?” You turn your face, holding eye contact, your breaths mixing together, your lips close enough to brush against each other.
“Why do you wanna know?” It's not a rude question, more teasing than anything.
“Because, I wanna know who I'm about to let watch my drink while I go take a piss,” you smirk and he leans back a little bit.
“The name's Dean, Dean Winchester,” you’d almost freeze, if you weren't already getting up to go to the bathroom. Dean Winchester, Bobby's talked about him before, said he's one of the best hunters out there.
You let your thoughts drift as you go into the bathroom.
When you're washing your hands a woman comes up next to you. “Hey,” you look up at her soft tone. “That guy you're flirting with, he has a reputation. He tends to get girls into the bed, if you know what I mean,” you chuckle, almost scoff.
“Honey, that's my intention,” she seems almost taken aback. “Look, I haven't had some since..” you pause for a second, you genuinely cannot remember the last time a guy touched you, let alone fucked you. “I don't remember, but I'ma get me some tonight,” the lady just nods.
“Well, be careful with him. Watch yourself,” she walks out and you follow shortly after.
He smiles when you come back. You two hold a pretty decent flirty conversation, him smirking for over half of it.
Once you're thoroughly tipsy, you get more ballsy. Getting closer to him, getting more flirty, really trying to get into his pants later. He loves it, loves the attention, your hand on his knee, your sole conscience just on him. And it works, he takes you to your motel, you stumbly unlock the door, him shoving you inside playfully.
The night is worth a lifetime, kisses, touches, moans, and groans shared in that small room. For a man who's so gruff, he's extremely gentle, fully focused on making sure you have pleasure from this. He hits all the right spots, kisses your neck just right, finds your sensitive areas, you can't remember the last time you've had this much attention. After you two are done, he pulls you close, your face in the crook of his neck, as you both tangle together. One of his hands rests on your lower back, his other hand between your thighs, close to your knees.
You slept like a baby. In the morning, he actually stayed, now you didn't know this at the time, but he realized just how touch deprived you really are. He knew that if he left, you'd go back into a shell and destroy yourself.
You wake up, groaning as you dig your face into his chest.
His chuckle sends vibrations through his chest. You look up at him, he's already looking down at you. “Good morning, sunshine. How's the hangover?” He asks teasingly. You just groan again and shove your head back into his neck. He pulls you closer, his hands gently rubbing your back, his callouses softly scratching your skin.
Then you start hunting together, you help him finish his hunt, turns out you're a really good duo. You meet his brother Sam, who he calls Sammy, he lets you stay in the bunker, even gives you your own room. You end up staying there, things go good with Dean. He even set things straight and wanted to start dating, you said yes. A year passed, full of everything you could have hoped and dreamed for. He would take you out to your favorite diners, park Baby in a field and watch the stars while drinking beers, let you sit on the front seat on the way to a hunt, his hand resting on your thigh. He even let you move into his room, of course when you fooled around, getting a little too loud, because touch deprivation never really goes away, Sam would complain, so you bought him noise cancelling headphones.
But then on a hunt everything went wrong. You and Dean had a stupid argument over something you can't even remember. You were both pissed, and neither of you will be the bigger person, so you were reckless. You fucked up, a vamp threw you back, your head hitting a table, really hard. Like so hard the room immediately started spinning. Dean was pissed. When you got back to the car, Dean took off his shirt and pressed it against your head while Sam drove back to the bunker. Dean scolded you about being reckless, but there was an underlying concern in his voice. He also had to keep you awake.
So, you lay, with your head in his lap as you try your ever loving hardest to stay awake. You stare up at him with tired eyes, your eyelids feeling kike they weigh a hundred thousand pounds. Dean yells at Sam to drive faster while still trying to keep you awake, he even hits your cheek softly, desperate to keep you conscious.
“Stay with me, sweetheart. Just keep those pretty little eyes open for me,” his voice is just slightly shaking, just enough to show his genuine fear of losing you.
You manage to whisper, “My head hurts…” it's small and vulnerable, something you hate being.
In reality you and Dean are the same person, you hate being vulnerable, you hate crying, you suck at comforting people, you're just good at sweet talking your way into things. So him letting his voice shake, you saying your head hurts, it's all vulnerability.
When you're back at the bunker, Sam cleans the wound and glues the wound shut with medical glue. Dean paced the hallway trying not to punch a wall out of frustration. When Sam comes out, he goes in. Dean takes one look at your curled up form and crumbles. He goes over, gently slides in behind you, wrapping his arms around your small body, and whispering, “I'm sorry..” into your ear.
You roll over and gently kiss his lips, it's soft and tender, an apology from you without having to say anything.
Another year passed by, you and Dean were inseparable. Your romance only grew, Sam got more annoyed but slowly started accepting it. On hunts, you and Dean worked flawlessly together, like you never used to hunt alone. After successful hunts you'd go back to the bunker and get laid, you and Dean were constantly fooling around, just couldn't keep your hands off each other. Your touch deprivation just made every touch more intense than the last, Dean learned to use it to his advantage.
Right before you ended up bleeding out from wounds galore, it was just a normal hunt. A hunt for a djinn, but that night, you and Dean had an argument, not the usual half joking, half arguing, it was full blown arguing, like yelling, begging, all the things. Naturally, you took Baby and went to a bar, trying to blow off steam. You sit down at the bar, ordering a neat bourbon. A guy sits down next to you.
You roll your eyes and say, “Look dude, I have a boyfriend, keep it to yourself,” the guy looks at you and then chuckles.
“Alright, I wasn't gonna try anything, but at least let me buy you a drink,” he smiles and pulls out some cash.
You scoff, “I don't need your money,” you pay for your drink and go sit down at a table, drink in hand. The guy isn't going to give up.
After an hour, you have to pee, so you hand your drink to the bartender, asking her to hold it for you. You sat it on the bar and left. When you finished, you drank the rest of your drink, and went back outside. That's when you start feeling dizzy, you pull out your phone and dial Dean's number. He doesn't answer. You leave a voicemail, “Dean, I think someone..” you stumble, “spiked my-” your cut off by you falling, blacked out.
When you ‘wake up’ you're in a different world, “Fuck. Damn djinn,” leaves your mouth before you can think. You're in a house, a master bedroom, you're standing in front of a mirror, dressed in jeans and a nice blouse, something you'd never wear. Dean walks in, wrapping His arms around your waist.
“Hey baby,” he coos before placing a soft kiss on your neck. “The kids got on the bus, so the house is all ours now,” he smiles at you in the mirror.
You pause, kids? You think to yourself, why the hell would we have kids- that's when it clicks. You're not hunters in this world, just normal people, just a husband and wife, with kids. All you've ever wanted… so you go with it.
When Dean found the djinns hide out, he burst in guns blazing, Sam following behind. He had an angel blade and was ready to kill anyone in sight. They walked around, looking for the djinn, a big fight went down, then one djinn got away, went to you, stabbed you in multiple places, and threw you to the floor, to die. You saw Dean run past, right passed you, without even helping.
Dean Winchester is a dick. I mean, really, the man left you to die, you're bleeding out on the floor and he just ran past. After you hear fighting, before you pass out, you hear a yell for you.
That sweet voice, that sounds like smooth southern whiskey, calling out for you. You pass out as you see Dean's boots running at you, his hands landing on you before everything fades to black.
sum: reader is insecure and has no friends, eddie changes that.
a/n: if i missed anything in the tags or sum i sorry. i wrote this like a month ago and just went off of what i remember. i do know that i enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoy :3
Eddie Munson. The freak of Hawkins High, the boy who plays the devils game. Is he really that bad? Well life sucks, but people suck more. That's how you end up as the butt of most jokes. Jokes. They’re not really jokes, that is just what they call it to get away with being an asshole.
You are thick, but hot as hell. Most boys your age just think you're fat, they don't see the girl beyond the hoodies and baggy clothes. Eddie Munson, on the other hand, sees everything. And I mean everything. He notices when you’re wearing a new lip gloss, when you got a new hoodie, when you don’t eat in the cafeteria. Every slight movement Eddie notices. He’s had a crush on you since he can remember, not because of your body. Well, that's a factor, cause he wants to squeeze your hips and thighs like fucking lemons. But he loves your style as well, your taste in music, clothing, and everything in-between.
To him, you're a goddess.
Yet you still see yourself in a horrible way like the popular kids. Eddie despises them for making you hate yourself. And it's not your fault, you're just trying to live your life, yet those pesky popular, rich kids pull you back down the second you get yourself up.
One day you walk into school feeling like utter shit. Your body aches because of the stupid workout you did yesterday. A class to so called “get fit”. That shit is not for a beginner.
The second you get to your locker you hear, “oooohhhhhhh Paarrkkkkkeerrrrrrr!!!” come from none other than Steve fucking Harrington. You ignore him and keep walking towards class to avoid him. Maybe, just maybe, if you get there quick enough the teacher will yell at him for harassment, and he’ll go away.
Eddie walks in with a dramatic flourish, as always. He sees Harrington messing with you and gets pissed off. Today is not the day for someone to be messing with his crush. “Hey Harrington! Why don't you just leave the girl alone, and shove your hairspray and lotion, up your ass!” You spin around after hearing the comment from Eddie that has Steve red as his car.
Your eyes widen, a slight blush creeping up your neck as you hold back a giggle. You’ve never had someone stand up for you before, and you're not gonna lie, it feels kinda good. Eddie, seeing you bite your lip to hold the giggles back, smirks. He could stare into your eyes for hours and never get bored...
Damnit, Munson focus! He thinks to himself. As you quickly turn and hurry to class, the banter between Steve and Eddie fades.
By lunch you just sit down with your headphones and book. Technically, you're supposed to be eating, but you lost your appetite the second your name was in Harrington’s mouth this morning. Eddie notices. Dustin, who is sitting at the Hellfire lunch table with Eddie and the rest of the group, notices how distracted Eddie is. All of a sudden fingers are snapped in Eddie’s face and he looks at Henderson, annoyed. “What.” Eddie says irritated that he was pulled out of his thoughts.
“Are you okay, man? You’ve been distracted all day. What’s going on with you?” Dustin says, but Eddie grumbles about Harrington being an asshat and “it's nothing” or “I’m good.” To Dustin, Eddie goes back to staring into space. In reality he’s staring right at you, as you read quietly with your headphones on.
After he finds the courage he had this morning, he grabs his tray, and heads straight for the table you're sitting at. He pulls out a chair and plops down on it, as if it was a comfortable reclining chair. You slowly close your book, setting it on the table, and taking your headphones off before finally looking up at him. When you do, you almost die laughing. Eddie has a stupid goofy grin on his face that looks comical. How can just one, goofy face make you feel so much better in five seconds, when you barely know it? Eddie being himself only grins wider at your amusement. “Hey. I’m Eddie Munson. You might know me as the “freak” of Hawkins High, and that I am.” He owns the stupid nickname, that just makes everything so much funnier to you, the way he introduces himself.
“Hi?” you say biting your bottom lip trying not to laugh. Eddie takes that as a good sign that he didn’t completely blow it. “I’m Anastasia Parker, you can call me Anna. I’m- I don't have as epic of a nickname as you Eddie.” Your teasing smile makes Eddie’s grin go goof ball.
“Well, I guess not everyone can pull it off. It’s hard work owning such an epic nickname. I just happen to have the charm to.” Eddie winks, making your ears turn slightly pink. Your book is forgotten, along with his tray, on the table. After a minute, he speaks up once again.”So, why is a beautiful girl like you, sitting alone?” There's a slight ease to his tone, but it's mainly serious.
You hesitate, getting nervous, you subconsciously tuck a loose strand of hair from your bun, behind your ear. “I uh- no one really wants to talk to me I guess. Everyone has.. Opinions of me, i kinda like that quiet, sometimes its good. Most of the time it makes my ears ring. That;s why I listen to music instead,” you, for some odd reason, can’t look this boy in the eye as you speak.
Eddie looks concerned. Suddenly he gets up, you think, oh great, you’ve run another person off. When really he moves around the table and sits next to you, tucking the same strand of hair you did, behind your ear because it had fallen back into your face. Your eyes widen, breath hitches. What the actual fuck?? You think to yourself. This is the first time someone, let alone a guy, has paid a lick of attention to you. And he’s flirting??? When you finally get the guts to look up Eddie is smiling softly, knowing how much he affected you. Seeing your soft blushing cheeks is the best part of his day.
What in the fucked up world is happening? Eddie Munson, the freak of Hawkins High, just made your heart stop beating BY MOVING YOUR HAIR! Your blush only grows more red when he leans a touch closer. “Well, I think everyone here is a total ass for not sitting with you. You're very pretty and have an awesome personality. I can’t really say much as ‘the freak’, but I still think everyone should be flocking to sit with you. I may have just met you, but you're still extremely kind, even to me. Plus you have good taste in literature.” His boyish smile as he talks, seems to make the whole cafeteria disappear. The only thing in the room to you is you and Eddie. He gently takes your hand, still smiling like a complete goof ball. “Why don’t you join my table? I can always move a few chairs where you’ll be right next to me. I bet you’ll even enjoy my friends.”
The offer is irresistible. “I’d love to.” Eddie grins, standing up with your hand in his pulling you up with him. You grab your headphones and book before walking with him, leaving his tray behind. Once you both get over to the table Eddie gestures dramatically towards you. “Everyone! This is the beautiful Anastasia Parker, you can call her Anna.” He pulls out a chair for you, the boys at the table, plus Max Mayfield, all watch as you sit down next to Eddie. Dustin speaks first.
“So Eddie. I see you’ve managed to get your crush over here. Good job!” Dustin claps a few times before introducing himself, “I’m Eddie’s best friend, Dustin Henderson. Nice to meet you.” The toothless smile this Dustin kid flashes at you is just adorable.
You smile saying back, “Well, I’d say my name but Eddie did the courtesy of saying it for me.” You smile politely. After everyone has taken a turn introducing themselves, conversation flows easily. Making these very strange ninth graders your new friends, plus Eddie and the only other two people actually in your grade.
At the end of the day Eddie pops up next to you while you're at your locker. “Wanna come over tonight? My uncle has to work and you look like you could use a break.” His suggestion is not at all forced, more like a hopeful question.
After a split second of thought, why not? After all, you deserve a break, and besides, you don’t have any homework tonight because you finished it in class. “Sure. I finished my homework earlier so I won’t have much to do other than listen to my mother ramble.” You smile at him “I’ll meet you in an hour.” As you walk away, you feel butterflies start to collect in the pit of your belly.
When you get home, you practically sprint up the carpeted stairs to your bedroom to change. Your mother on the other hand has different ideas. Once you get up there you see your mother in your room stuffing stuff in trash bags. “Mom! What are you doing! That’s my stuff!” Your mother turns around to look at you clearly drunk again.
“What did I tell you about letting your room get messy?! You have trash everywhere in this disgusting room! What have I told you about all this junk food?! This is the reason you’re fat and ugly! No one will want a disgusting pig!” Oh yeah, did I forget to mention your mother is the reason for most of your body image issues? She will berate you, slap you, call you everything under the sun, just to make you feel bad about yourself.
After your mother goes downstairs, you slip out of your window, almost in tears getting in your car. God, I wish dad was still here. Maybe she’d be more bearable. You think to yourself. Ever since your father died your mom has been drinking herself into oblivion and taking her anger out on you. As you drive towards the trailer park Eddie lives in, tears stream down your face. When you eventually get there you compose yourself, wiping the remaining tears off your cheeks.
Walking in, Eddie immediately notices something is wrong. “Hey are you okay? You look upset. Did something happen?” He jumps up from the couch and walks towards you. He gently cups your cheeks. Just from his concern, you seem to crumble right into his arms, sobbing into his chest. Eddie freezes only for a second when you fall into his arms. He quickly wraps his arms around you, holding you up, whispering sweet words in your ears, saying it's okay. “Whenever you're ready you can tell me what's wrong.” His words are kind and patient. He feels no need as to rush you.
After you start to feel better, you start to speak. “My mom she-” you hesitate not knowing how to explain it, “Ever since my dad died, she’s been struggling to cope. Instead of seeing a therapist, like I did, she turned to alcohol as her way to forget. She will take her anger out on me instead, more so on my body. She was throwing stuff around my room, stuffing my clothes and personal belongings in trash bags. Then when I walked in she started yelling at me, called me fat, said no guy would ever want me.” on the last bit your voice wavers, you start to tremble again just wanting to disappear into Eddie’s arms.
He holds you closer, feeling horrible that you can’t go home and be safe from cruel words. “You’re not fat, certainly not ugly, and most definitely will have guys swarming over you soon enough. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I know I can’t say much considering I’m a so-called ‘freak’, but you're perfect in every way.” He gently kisses the crown of your head, “Besides I want you.” He whispers the last words as if they are sacred. His words somehow make your heart flutter, something you always thought just happened in a fairytale.
For the rest of that evening, Eddie sits with you on his small couch, watching movies, eating junk food, and dramatically mocking soap operas. You feel like you’ve known him for a thousand years, like you didn’t just start talking today in the school cafeteria. It feels like you’ve known him your whole life.
Fast forward to the next morning at school. You walk in as usual, Steve Harrington, the ass he is, picks on you, hoping to get a reaction. When he doesn’t, he huffs annoyedly. Nothing could possibly ruin the amazing mood you’re in. When you get to your locker, Eddie is standing there already waiting. You smile upon seeing him.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” He says with a grin that goes from ear to ear.
You open your locker still smiling. “Good morning to you too. How are you on this lovely morning?” You talk in the sweetest, most joyful tone Eddie has ever heard.
“I’m doing awesome now that I’ve seen you.” His grin only grows wider as he speaks. “So, any plans after school? Because if not, I know this place where we could watch the sunset. If you’re up to it of course.” Eddie’s attempts at flirting are adorable
“I’d love to go watch the sunset with you. But really, it depends on how much homework I have tonight. I might have to study as well. Though, I might be able to let you know by lunch time.” You smile kindly. Eddie’s smile falters only for a second, you still catch it. “If I can't, I’ll make it up to you sometime. I promise.” You kiss his cheek before going to class. As you walk away he holds his hand up to his cheek, gently touching where you kissed him.
Dustin, who had come around the corner just as you kissed Eddie's cheek, bursts out laughing. He goes over to Eddie, “You're so head-over-heels for her, man, y’know that?” Eddie rolls his eyes, dropping his hand. That only makes Dustin laugh harder.
At lunch, instead of sitting alone at the usual table you’d find yourself in, you sit next to Eddie at the Hellfire table. He finds his smile when you sit down next to him. The conversation between you and his friends carries easily, just like with Eddie. You laugh and carry on, it’s like you’ve always been a part of this group.
Suddenly, you hear a bunch of students yelling and chanting, when the whole table looks up, a fight has broken out between two of the star basketball players. Jason Carver jumps in trying to separate them, but ends up getting hit himself. Before you can comprehend it, a lunch tray comes flying right at your head, one that one of the fighting boys had thrown. The loud sound of a tray hitting your head, plus a yell of pain from you, stops the fight. Everyone turns, and sees Eddie already over you, placing his hand firmly over your bleeding forehead. He looks up and around like everyone there is an idiot. “Someone get the nurse. Now!” Chrissy, the cheer captain, jumps up and runs to get the nurse. Jason Carver looks at Eddie, then you. The boy who threw the tray looks over and mutters a weak, “sorry…” Making Eddie’s blood boil more.
The school nurse arrives within a few minutes, the principal and a few teachers behind her. While the principal gets the boys and a few witnesses, the nurse goes over to you, gently trying to get you up so you can go to the nurses office. Eddie gently wraps his free arm around your waist, helping you up, while still keeping his hand on your forehead. He walks with his arm around your waist to the nurses office refusing to let you go. He’s muttering curses towards the boy who threw the tray, making you giggle slightly, which only hurts your head more.
In the nurses office, Eddie reluctantly moves his hand to let the nurse see. When he does, he sees the blood on his hand, your blood. The nurse gestures to the sink, so he can wash his hands, all the while she gently examines the spit open forehead of yours. She cleans the wound, drawing a hiss from you at the sting of the antiseptic. Eddie finally finishes washing your blood off his hands, and sits back down next to you, taking your hand. His fingers intertwine with yours, creating a soothing gesture.
After she puts a bandage on your head, you claim to be “dizzy.” Eddie can see the slight glint in your eye that means you're up to something. When you ask if you can go home, the nurse says yes. When she asks if you have a car you say no. You even keep up the lie when she asks if your mom can pick you up. Eddie, catching a glimpse of your plan, offers to drive you home. Once you and him slip out of the school, Eddie is laughing. “You’re a total genius, you know that?” You just grin.
“What can I say? I have some good ideas in my injured head.” You say teasingly.
He smirks. “Well since you’re physically impaired,” he lets his words hang, because he picks you up bridal style, making you yelp, your arms quickly wrapping around his neck.
“Eddie Munson! Have you lost your mind?!” He laughs as you hold on tightly. “You asshole.” Despite your words, you're smiling as he clumsily opens his van door, setting you down on the passenger seat. He runs to the other side jumping into the driver seat and starting up the old van.
Back at Eddie’s trailer, you see a new car sitting in the driveway. “Whose car?” You’re confused, you thought Eddie’s uncle worked during the school hours.
“That is my Uncle Wayne’s car, he took a day of vacation today, needed a break. Don’t worry he won’t bite.” Eddie smiles reassuringly. Inside, you see who you presume is Wayne, sitting on an old recliner, drinking a beer. Eddie drops both your backpacks by the door. “Hey Wayne!” Wayne jumps out of his, what looks like a food coma, from Eddie’s voice.
“What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in school still? And whose the girl?” Wayne doesn’t sound unfriendly, more-so concerned for why his nephew is home before school lets out, and with a girl.
You step forward, head still throbbing. “I’m Anastasia, a friend of Eddie’s. A fight broke out and a tray hit my head. I lied to the nurse so I could leave early and Eddie offered to drive me. My home isn’t exactly paradise right now so he brought me here. Do you mind if I stay a bit?” After hearing your explanation, Wayne looks concerned for you too.
He stands up, setting his beer down, he looks at your head and sees the bandage. “You said shits tough at home?” You just nod. “Then you can stay here for as long as you need. A friend of Eddie’s is always welcome. You look sweet and like you won’t cause trouble.” He turns to Eddie, sounding firm, like the boy is stupid. “Well don’t just stand there. Get the poor girl an ice pack for her head!” Eddie immediately runs to the kitchen to retrieve the ice for your head, almost falling on the way back. Wayne sighs knowing his nephew all too well, he knows Eddie has a big fat crush on you.
After a few movies, you find yourself asleep on Eddie’s side. Sitting on the old couch you did just the other day.
When Eddie feels you relax completely against his side, he refuses to move, not wanting to wake you. Wayne sees the way his nephew stays completely still so he doesn’t wake you. Wayne grabs a blanket and gently drapes it over the both of you. Eddie looks up at him, Wayne can see the love Eddie has for you in his eyes.
The next morning you wake up finding yourself on top of Eddie, on his couch. You smile as you see him drooling, the morning sun hitting his face perfectly. You gently tuck a piece of his hair behind his ear, making him stir. When he opens his eyes, he smiles seeing you looking up at him. He kisses the top of your head before gently moving you to the side, so he can get up. Wayne is in the kitchen cooking breakfast. “Good morning, lovebirds.” He teases lightly as Eddie goes to the fridge.
“Yeah, yeah, you're just jealous because I had a pretty girl laying on me all night and you didn’t.” Eddie says to his uncle oh so smugly.
“Oh yeah? Well you have to go to school, Mr. Mattress.” Eddie’s eyes widen realizing he has school.
“Fuck!” Eddie quickly grabs his bookbag and scattered items, but stops in his tracks when he hears your laugh. “What? Did he put something on my ass again?”
His question makes you laugh harder. ”I’m not going to question the ‘again’ part of that, but today is Saturday. We don’t have school. He’s fucking with you.” Eddie throws down his backpack in frustration, making you laugh impossibly harder.
“Fuck you, Wayne. You suck ass.” Wayne starts laughing as well, Eddie can't help but smile at your continued giggles.
Wayne smirks. “Always works.” He looks at you, “Everytime he annoys me when he wakes up on the weekend, I’ll tell him he has school. It makes him panic and run out the door. He even drives to school and comes back cursing when he realizes there's no school.” As Wayne explains his tactic to deal with Eddie, you start laughing again, making Eddie blush.
He mumbles something before saying, “Thanks for enjoying my embarrassment..” It only makes you laugh harder.
During breakfast, you, Wayne and Eddie carry conversation, one that is mainly to embarrass Eddie. Wayne tells funny stories about Eddie from when he was a baby. By the end of breakfast Eddie’s face is as red as a tomato.
Around ten o'clock, a car pulls haphazardly into the driveway. Wayne goes outside to see who it is, having not recognized the car. Then a woman, tall, skinny, looking pissed, and smells of alcohol comes out, your mother. You don't know why your mother came to the Munson’s house looking for you, she probably asked around in her weird ass friend group. She's red faced and seems ready for a fight before she says, “Where is she? Where is Anastasia? You fucking drunk ass old man! Now where the fuck is she?!” Wayne is starting to look pissed, he's not the one to be disrespected, especially not on his property.
“Ma'am if you can't show some damn respect on my property, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.” Wayne is trying to keep things civil, but your mother is not having it.
“I'm not gonna ask again! Where is she?!” She's basically screaming now. You run outside, hoping you can talk some sense into her, even though she's drunk.
“Mom, I'm right here! Leave them out of this! It's my fault! I got Eddie to bring me here!” You're trying to take the blame, knowing what she's thinking, you went off to fool around with a boy. But she's not listening.
“Get your ass over here! We're going home!” Wayne gently grabs your arm as you walk with slightly trembling legs, the fear rooted deep into your bones.
He looks at you softly, “Do you really want to go with her? It's okay if you don't.” He speaks kindly, reminding you of your father. When you shake your head, tears start to flow uncontrollable. Wayne steps in front of you blocking your mother's view. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.” He says to her, leaving no room for argument.
Of course her screaming got the neighbors attention on this. Them, being good friends with Wayne, walk over and stand in a line by his side. Seeing you in hysteria makes all their protectiveness come in full swing. Each one of them is either a father, uncle, or even grandfather. Your mother is too drunk to realize it's not worth it, so she starts shaming you again. She throws insult, after insult, making you slowly start to break down. Eddie rushes over to you, having been frozen on the porch. He wraps his arms around you, covering your ears with his large, warm hands. You tremble, shake, and cry into his chest. Eddie doesn't let go. He looks up when he hears Wayne yell at her, “If you want her so bad, you're gonna have to go through us!” That's when your mother realizes it's not worth it.
She says, “That mistake isn't worth it anyways. You can have her. She doesn't deserve anything from me.” And with that, she gets back into her car and drives off, blowing dust from the gravel at them. Everyone turns around and sees Eddie holding you close, whispering calming words that he is praying are helping. Everyone gathers around for a huge fucked up group hug, going around you and Eddie. The best part is all the other women, mothers, and children come out and join.
It was odd when Dustin came home one day saying, “Sis! You'll never guess who I became friends with!” When you just raised an eyebrow he practically screamed, “Steve Harrington!” Steve Harrington. The so-called “king” of Hawkins High. You never questioned it, just went with his flow.
That was four years ago. Dustin is now best friends with Steve. You and Steve are the same age and fought together to kill Vecna. I mean yeah, he was hot, but you never realized how much you liked Steve for his personality, not his looks. You and Steve are pretty good friends, you just kinda.. clicked. Robin, your best friend, ships you and Steve together so often it drives you crazy.
But you were so scared of ruining the great friendship you had with Steve that you pushed him away. You used to talk for hours on end, now you barely say a word when you guys are talking. You used to cuddle on his couch and watch a movie, now you make up excuses to not see him. You hope and pray he doesn't notice, but he does. He notices to the point where he wants to talk to Dustin wondering what he did wrong. He thinks he's the reason.
Eventually, he's fed up with sitting around and he knocks on your door. You, expecting Robin, opens the door to be met with Steve's face. You quickly try to shut the door, but he puts his hand firmly on it, “You’re not running anymore Henderson. What’s wrong? Is it something I did? What did I do? I miss you, and I'll do just about anything to get you back," he's a little harsh, harsher than he intended.
His words hurt, and you bite your lip trying to hide your emotions. He sighs, “look I didn't mean to be that harsh, I just.. I'm worried about you. Dustin is too, and Robin won't tell us shit,” you can see the concerned look in his eyes. It hurts down to your bones, knowing he thinks it’s all his fault.
You want to just give up, scream “I love you!” until your lungs give out. You’re just too scared. “Steve, I-” his face falls, you called him Steve, not Stevie, or bestie, he doesn’t even care if you call him girl, which you do sometimes.
“Okay what in the actual world is going on with you? Why did you call me Steve? Is it actually something I did? Just tell me, I promise I can fix it!” The pure and undying desperation is his voice takes a bite out of your soul.
“You didn’t do anything I just-” in your head you're screaming to tell him but don’t know how.
“Then just tell me! You’ve been scaring me and Dustin for two weeks now! I don't know what to do with myself anymore!” he takes your hand in his large, warm, actually no, sweating, hand.
On instinct you comment on his sweaty hand, something you always complained about when you’d hold his hand. “Your hands are clammy..” You whisper, your voice barely audible, but he hears it. A short, humorless laugh comes from Steve.
“Well it’s good to know that you can still complain,” he teases back lightly before getting back onto the subject. “But seriously, why are you being so weird? I mean, you're weird normally, but right now you're more weird than normal and-” You almost laugh at his rambling, a nervous habit of his. His fingers are absentmindedly twisting the rings on your fingers, another nervous habit he has that you love. You look down at your hands in his, then back up at his desperate face.
He keeps rambling, begging you to tell him what’s going on. You finally give up, snapping. “I love you, Steve!” You yell the words at him, shouting over him, and he stops. Looking into your eyes as if he doesn’t believe you. As if you just flat out lied to his face.
“What?” His voice cracks and trembles at the same time. “Y- you love me?” Ever since his “King Steve” era ended, Steve has been self-conscious. He can’t flirt like he used to, he can’t be a cool guy anymore, and it really hurts him. But now he’s better, he’s more calm, patient, caring, careful, kind, everything he wasn’t in high school. It sucks for him, he can’t pull women as easily, all the girls want a hot, outstanding, and loud dude. You want Steve and everything he is. Now, if you were asked about Steve Harrington four years ago, you would have laughed and called him an asshole, because that's what he was. Key word: was.
“I was scared of ruining our friendship,” the words you’ve been keeping locked tight in the dungeon in your heart, spill out. They come fast and blunt, just needing to escape. So, he listens as you spill your heart right into his hands. “I was terrified that you would keep me in the friend-zone, so I kept quiet. I thought keeping my feelings buried down inside would make it better, that they would go away. But they didn’t. They got so strong that just seeing you made me want to jump into your arms, kiss you, hug you, touch your annoyingly perfect hair, anything to get closer. I hated them so I started pushing you away instead, thinking that would help. It only hurt worse. I told Robin everything which is why she wouldn’t tell you, or Dustin. I asked her not to.”
The words hit him all at once. Shock, joy, confusion, and something you can’t quite place crosses on his face all at once. “That’s- but why did you think pushing me away would make it better?” His words hurt. You don’t know how to explain your thought process. “Just know that I feel the same. I was slowly dissolving when you started to disappear. It almost killed me when I didn’t get my daily dose of your weirdness,” his attempt at a bit of humor works, drawing a small, blushy giggle from you.
He leans down, his nose almost touching yours. “Promise me you will never leave like that again,” he whispers the words like they could shatter from the cool breeze, forming from the sun going down.
“I promise,” you say firmly, playfully holding out your pinky finger in-between both of you. A childish move, but completely you at the same time. He laughs softly before hooking his pinky with yours.
“You can be such a child sometimes, y’know that?” he grins as he speaks, his words light and kind.
“Shut up, Stevie.”
The relief that washes over his face at hearing his deemed nickname fall from your lips, is almost comical. “Finally, back to using my proper name,” he teases softly, “I hope you know you, just about, gave me a heart attack when you said ‘Steve,’ instead of any other weird nickname you’ve given me,” a stupid goofy grin crosses his face at your scoff.
“You're such a hopeless, lovesick puppy, and I say that as your favorite person,” you smile as you speak, proud of yourself. He laughs at the stupid comment because it's too true.
“Well then, that's perfect because the one I'm love sick for is you,” the words are soft and tender. Still, as he speaks he pulls you flush against him, making your face light up like a light bulb. “You're cute when you blush,” he whispers teasingly in your ear.
“Then shut up and kiss me, Harrington,” using Harrington is funny, everytime you use it it's to get him to stop being annoying. Now you're telling him to kiss you. So he does.
The kiss is soft, gentle, as if he was scared you'd shatter under the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer before pulling back, your forehead on his. His cheeks are lightly dusted with a pink shade that makes him even more handsome.
“Maybe we should go inside before my neighbors think I’m a hooker again,” Steve bursts out laughing at the comment.
“Again?” He asks, slightly teasing, but it’s a genuine question.
“Don’t ask. It’s a long story,” you say, pulling him into the house by his collar, shutting the door behind you.
Steve leans in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss starts soft, yet intense at the same time. Steve starts backing you both up. You hit the kitchen counter, the edge digging into your lower back. Steve grabs your waist, lifting you onto the counter, and pulling a yelp and giggle from you.
Just as Steve starts to get a little handsy, his hand sliding up your shirt, the other tugging at your collar, the door bursts open with a loud, “BOOM!” Robin comes in with her usual enthusiastic greeting, “Helllooooooooo best frie- what the hell??” She pauses, taking a second before saying a very loud, and very Robin, “EWWWWWWWWW!!!! Get a room you two!”
She walks over, grabs Steve by the nape of his neck and rips him from in-between your legs. Robin replaces him with herself, “Hey there, sweet cheeks,” she says in a flirtatious tone.
“Robinnn, what did I tell you about acting like we’re in a homosexual relationship?”
“Not to do it…”
“That’s right. Now move, I’m trying to get dicked down tonight.”
“Good luck with that. But remember, if it doesn’t work out tonight, my strap is always ready. And we all know you two are quite acquainted~”
Steve’s jaw drops, his eyes so wide they look like they could pop out at any second. “What the hell is going on?!”
Robin looks over her shoulder, smirks at him, then leaves slamming the door behind her with the same loud, “BOOM!”
Steve looks even more bewildered, “So, uh, what was that about?”
“So, you remember how I told you my neighbors thought I was a hooker?”
warnings - angst, post! Major character death, slight implied sex if you squint
summary - two weeks after the death of both your little brother and boyfriend / months later, you find a hidden secret
word count - 2k
Two weeks. Two weeks was how long it had been since you’d lost both your little brother and your boyfriend in the same night. Two weeks since you’d gone back to the hospital after the successful rumble, only to be met with your little brother’s final goodbye, and then his lifeless body. Two weeks since you’d warned Dally to be careful as he left the hospital, only to run outside barefoot after his breathless call to the Curtis house. Two weeks since you’d arrived where you were meant to meet Dally, just to be met with the sound of gunshots. BANG! BANG BANG! And he was gone. Both of them were.
You remember falling to your knees beside him, pressing your forehead against him, tears falling onto his blood streaked abdomen. Everything in you gave out, you couldn’t even fight back when the police officers grabbed you by your shoulders to pull you off of your boyfriend’s lifeless corpse.
You remember Darry lifting you up and carrying you when you were too grief-stricken to walk yourself home. You remember him laying you down on the couch in the living room of the Curtis house. You cried and sobbed and wailed, until you exhausted yourself and passed out on the couch. You tried your best to block out what had happened that night.
You’d have trouble, though, when you’d, purely out of routine, knock on Johnny’s door to tell him you’d cooked his favorite, to be met with silence, and a dinner you felt too nauseated to eat. On those nights, you’d usually end up bringing the food over to the Curtis house, and claim you’d just had extra left over, due to cooking large portions out of habit, usually cooking for both Dally and Johnny as well. And while it was true that the large portions were purely out of habit, ‘left overs,’ left everyone under the impression you’d already eaten some, and not the truth, that you were yet to eat today, unable to sit at your table with the two empty seats.
You found it especially hard to forget what had happened when you’d have a particularly bad dream about it. You’d wake up in a cold sweat, instinctively reaching towards Dally’s side of the bed, only for your hand to grip onto the cold sheets, rather than Dally’s hand you’d usually find there. Those nights you’d end up walking the streets, chain smoking and drinking whatever was cheapest at the corner store, willing yourself to just forget everything.
Forgetting helped when you were going out to do something. Living like you hadn’t just lost the two most important people in your life proved to be easier than properly grieving. But when you were at home, the silence only broken by the sound of whatever record you’d absently put on, it was harder not to think about. You’d flipped all the pictures of them face-down, but the scent of their smoke had seeped deep into the walls. When you’d manically scrubbed all the smell out of them, you’d found that the absence of it hurt worse than it ever being there in the first place.
Everything in the house was somehow connected to them. Whether it be the ingredients to the meal you’d cook for Dally and Johnny when they were particularly banged-up, or something as simple as a pair of shoes, forgotten, never to be worn again. Everything in the house just hurt.
You’ve found yourself going out more often, unable to sit in a home that holds so many memories. On nights you’d usually be at home, in bed with Dally, you were at Buck’s drinking yourself half to death, and turning down any guy who even looked your way. No one would ever compare to Dally, in any aspect. Whether it be how he’d beat the shit out of a guy for looking at you like you were a quick fuck, or how he’d hold you after a late night, all sweat and limbs and sweet nothings, no one could ever come close.
Dally’s death had hit the hardest initially, being almost completely unexpected, and while you would never truly get over it, you felt that the pain was lessening, even if just a bit. On the contrary, the pain of Johnny’s death just got worse and worse everyday. You felt completely responsible, some butterfly effect bullshit spiraled out of control. A series of events, in your eyes, all caused by you, that ultimately lead to your little brother’s death.
You and Johnny had fought that night. If you’d never argued, he would’ve been at home, in his bed instead of at the lot. If he wasn’t at the lot, he would’ve never gone to the park with Pony. If they’d never gone to the park, they wouldn’t have gotten jumped. If they didn’t get jumped, he wouldn’t have killed Bob. If he’d never killed Bob, he wouldn’t have had to run away. If he never ran away he would’ve never gone into the church. If he’d never gone into the church, he wouldn’t have died. And now you realize, if Johnny never died, neither would Dally. It was all your fault. Both of their deaths were all your fault, all over some stupid disagreement with Johnny, that you can’t even remember what it was about anymore.
You were a shell. A shell of yourself, like the long-forgotten shell of a hermit crab, chipping at the edges. The life had crawled out of you, now left with an empty space, waiting for something new to crawl in. Though, rather than a new life crawling in, as you’d hoped it would, you’ve found what had crawled in was a parasitic grief, inviting more and more parasites to join in and suck out whatever life did remain of you, until you truly were just a shell. Eventually there’d be nothing left of you, and only then would the parasites give way, off to find a new host to drain the soul of and ultimately leave them too.
Maybe, just maybe, if you sat on your hypothetical ocean floor for long enough, a new life would eventually crawl in. Though you thought by that time, the weathering of the years would leave you chipped and scraped and ultimately broken. Or maybe nothing would come to you, and you’d sit and sit and sit on the ocean floor, waiting and hoping for something to crawl in and carry you back to the surface of the water, up onto the beach, and into the sun, and nothing ever would. Rather you’d sit there and chip and break and weather until you’d finally erode away into millions of bits of sand fallen on the ocean floor.
That was your analogy of how the rest of your life would go. Maybe a bit of a morbid one, but either way you felt it was more comforting than believing your life was a total loss. Perhaps your life was a total loss, maybe there really was no point in living like this. If you did die, what would it really mean to anyone? Just the death of that one little greaser girl with the already dead boyfriend and brother? Who would really care? I mean sure, the greasers would, but you didn’t think they’d be near as distraught as with Dally and Johnny’s death, so what was one more? Maybe your death would bring light, and maybe flowers would sprout from your grave. Maybe a little boy would pick the flowers and give them to the girl he liked. Maybe a bee would pollinate the flowers and make the sweetest honey in the town of Tulsa. Maybe your death wouldn’t be a bad thing. And maybe you should stop dwelling on this topic before you end up too deep in your thoughts.
Months later, you were doing a bit better, better enough to be able to actually look through Dally and Johnny's stuff without bursting into tears. Okay, maybe you were crying, but not as bad as you would’ve thought you’d been, which was surprising. You thought you’d pick up a few things, burst into tears, and then decide this was for another day, then go to Buck’s and have a few drinks. You were doing really well though. Of course, you were just going through it, none of it was going anywhere. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to part with any of their things, no matter how far in the future.
At this point you’d gotten through all of Johnny’s things, and now you were working on Dally’s. You’d been through maybe two or so drawers, he didn’t have many things, but what he did have was scattered around your room in various places, though you’re sure he knew exactly where everything was. You didn’t though, so you had to go through drawer by drawer, picking out the very few things you had left to remember him by.
You got to this next drawer, which was surprisingly only filled with his things. You’d gotten about halfway into it, looking at all the things he kept. Rather than this being a drawer of his things, it was a mix of many people’s things, a few of his, but mostly yours and others that he wanted to keep for himself. You found a photograph of the two of you, dated on the back in red ink. When you lifted the photo, you found a sheet of paper, folded in quarters. When you lifted that, you were met with a little velvet box.
You set the sheet of paper down to read later, and instead, went to inspect the box. You lifted it, and upon opening, you found that it was a ring. Why would he have a ring? You picked the paper up to see if it had any clues to what the ring might have been for. You unfolded it, and began to read.
“I'm not great with words, so I'll keep this simple. You make me a better person. You challenge me, you support me, and you put up with my bitch ass. Being with you is the smartest decision I ever made. I want to build a life with you, face whatever comes our way together, and grow old pissing each other off. Will you marry me?”
The end was hard to read through the tears, but you could still see the words “Will you marry me?” You dropped the paper from your hands. He was planning to propose. Dallas was planning to propose and then he fucking died. He died before he could ever marry you. He died before he could really become Johnny’s brother.
You sank down onto the floor with the ring box clutched in your hands. You had been so close to becoming Mrs. Winston. You had almost been married. You had almost been married to Dallas Winston, the love of your life, and he had died before he ever got the chance to ask you.
You carefully opened up the box and slid the ring onto your finger. It was definitely fake, and probably stolen, but it was a ring nonetheless. An engagement ring. It was beautiful. You sat and stared at it for a minute. He knew everything down to the cut and color and you hadn’t even told him. He had learned simply from observing.
One of the things you’d loved about Dally was his ability to just observe. Sometimes, he’d go particularly quiet and suddenly he’d just know things. Like the one morning at breakfast when he’d gone quiet and then the next morning you’d woken up to a cup of coffee made exactly how you like; two sugars and a splash of cream. Or when you’d run out of red nail polish and come home to a new bottle sitting on your dresser. It was just little things like that but they mattered so much to you, and now you didn’t have them anymore.
Perhaps you could learn to live with it. Maybe things would get better and you could lead a new life. It’d be hard, and you knew it, but maybe, just maybe you could heal, and you could live.
You looked down again at the ring on your finger and just admired it. You were going to wear that ring for the rest of your life. In your eyes, you two were married, whether you got an official ceremony or not. You were Mrs. Winston.
First fic on this account! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated, but not expected! Hope you guys liked it!
how would y'all feel about a terribly angsty Dally Winston post!death fic (with a KIND OF happy ending)? it's already written I just wanna know what the people want
yessssss please post!
no
Voting ended onMar 5
BTW this is the other person posting on this account, I'm AB. Most of my fics will be angsty so if you don't like that go read MG's fics!
It had been a halfway decent day at school so far, despite the fact you had spilled your coffee all down your shirt this morning, your least favorite teacher dismissing your answer in front of everyone, and getting your period. Okay maybe it did suck, but when you saw Eddie, your secret boyfriend, at lunch you smiled and blushed slightly. Eddie was sitting at the Hellfire lunch table with his weirdo friends, who you don't mind hanging around.
You take your seat next to your brother, Jason Carver, reluctantly. You hated hiding your true self; it's like being fake, and you hate it.
Your brother ruffles your hair as you sit down, making you roll your eyes and fix your hair.
As you sit there, barely eating, barely paying attention, and completely zoned out, and your brother, being annoying, tries to get your attention.
You snap out of your thoughts when there's a loud bang on a table somewhere off towards the middle of the cafeteria. Eddie and Jason are arguing, again. You just roll your eyes as Jason stands up. When you look up you see Eddie standing on the table making a little speech “as long as you're into band… or science…or parties… or a game where you throw balls into laundry baskets! …It's forced conformity! That's what's killing the kids! That's the real monster!” As he speaks you try to hide your proud smile, but your face betrays you as you grin ear to ear.
As Jason says something you don't even hear you see Eddie hold up his index fingers to his head making horns and sticking his tongue out. You burst into giggles because it's just Eddie. But did I mention it was dead silent in the cafeteria? Yeah. Your giggles filled the silence. Everyone, I mean everyone turned and looked right at you giggling in your chair.
Once you finally get your composure, you turn and see your brother pissed. He looks like he's gonna strangle you. That's when you realize everyone is staring at you. “Fuck it.” You think as you stand up.
“He's right.” Your voice echoes through the cafeteria. “You all judge people for what they like. Why? What is the point of judging? What good does it get you? You didn't even know one of the freaks was among you!" Everyone gasped and you smiled, smirked really, and joined Eddie on the table. “I'm dating Eddie Munson. I have been for months. I'm a part of Hellfire. You all thought I was the innocent Carver but you're wrong. This is politics in school. It's fucked up.” You kiss Eddie in front of everyone. On the table. In front of EVERYONE!
Once you pull back you can see the blush on Eddie's face, but he looks smug as ever. The Hellfire table is clapping and whistling, because they all knew. Jason on the other hand looks like he's gonna explode with anger. So smirking you look at him. “What? Did I hit a nerve, bubba?” Bubba, the name you've always called your big brother, now used to insult him. It kind of felt good.
After lunch everyone clears out. You get pulled from walking with Eddie and yelp, naturally. When you turn around you see Jason standing there fuming. Eddie, who now notices you're not by his side, spins around and sees Jason holding onto your arm with a bruising grip, dragging you towards the school doors.
Eddie, being the concerned little boyfriend he is, runs over and pulls Jason's hand off your arm which is now tomato red from his grip. When Jason turns around and sees Eddie gently touching your arm to check for bruises, he punches him right there out of anger at both of you. This act causes you to gasp and scream at Jason to stop. Eddie stumbles back and you immediately step in-between them, taking a blow yourself from Jason, which sends you flying into Eddie's chest. You, being you, gets pissed. You've had a shitty start to your day so it's already fucked, so let's give up and keep it fucked.
You step forwards and punch your brother hard in the nose. He stumbles backwards and into some lockers. He won't get back up but the basketball team rushes to his side.
You spin around and go to Eddie. Carefully and gently, you move his hand from his face to see what happened. There's a bruise forming on his jaw. “I swear I'm gonna kill him.” You mumble under your breath and Eddie hears it.
“Babe, don't worry about him. And I'm fine. I'm more worried about you.” Eddie says extremely concerned as he gently touches your cheekbone which is bruising way faster than his, you wince. “Although that was pretty hot when you hit him” Eddie smiles softly and you smile and blush slightly at the compliment. “Let's skip this joint, what do you say?” You nod just wanting to get as far away from your brother as you can.
After around ten to twenty minutes of driving you get to Eddie's trailer. Once inside, you plop down on his couch just like you have plenty of times before. He goes to the kitchen and comes back after a minute and has a bag of ice. He ever so gently places it on your bruising cheekbone, making you wince.
“Shh, it's gonna be sore for a while. But you'll live. I'm here as your life support,” he says with a dramatic flare as always.
His playfulness helps, a little, to lighten your mood.
As you sit there you slowly start to lean against Eddie. Him still holding the ice to your cheekbone, and AC/DC playing softly in the background that he turned on when you both walked in.
Eddie smiles softly as you lean fully against him, your cheek to his chest as you close your eyes and just live in the moment.
Eddie's soft voice rings through your ears as he breaks the silence. “Baby,” he says softly, getting your attention. You look up at him, your head still against his chest. “What you did for me, for us, that was really badass, like metal as hell. Thank you for punching him. He deserved it.” He smiled as you blushed at his comment, but nevertheless smiled.
“He's my brother. He'll get over it. Although I'm definitely going to sit with you at lunch from now on.” You smirk slightly as you look back up at Eddie who is now chuckling softly, the vibration in his chest hitting your head just as softly as they sound.
Eddie looks down at you asking softly “Do you wanna find a movie to watch? I'll make popcorn.” He says playfully making you giggle
“I'll find a movie. Go make the popcorn.” Eddie grins and runs off to the kitchen to make popcorn. You sit down on the floor and rummage through the options he has. You find one of your newer favorite movies “Little Shop of Horrors” that came out earlier this year.
When he comes back you hold up the movie and he takes it dramatically popping it into the player. You both flop down onto the couch, your head going into Eddie's lap, as you both sit there cuddling watching the movie.
After a while of watching Eddie notices you've dozed off, so he sits as still as he can to not wake you. He smiled softly watching your peaceful face as you slip into a deep slumber.
~
The next morning you wake up, your back aching, from falling asleep on Eddie's couch.. wait a minute… FUCK! You fell asleep at Eddie's house! Jason, mom, and dad are going to kill you!
You jump up from the couch which wakes up Eddie. He sits up really fast, “What happened? Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.” He sits up rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.
You speak so quickly it's like a waterfall of words from your mouth, “My parents are going to kill me! I have a curfew of ten! It's just sunrise! Jason is going to kill us!” You panic as you run around grabbing your stuff quickly and realize you need different clothes especially if you're going to school today.
Eddie gets up and gently grabs your shoulders. “Baby,” he says calmly, taking your chin to make you look at him. “Take a breath, you'll be fine. You can borrow some of my clothes if you need.” His calm voice helps you collect your thoughts a little but you're still everywhere at once.
You sit down and after a minute Eddie hands you a T-shirt and a pair of jeans that have to be way too big for you. But you still go to the bathroom and try them on anyway.
When you come out, Eddie dies laughing seeing his shirt hanging off you and his jeans fitting a little tightly but having to be rolled up at your ankles because you're way shorter than him.
“Don't laugh at me!” You say playfully as you fix the shirt that falls off your shoulder again, making Eddie laugh harder.
“I'm not laughing because it's funny, I'm laughing cause you look adorable.” He says before coming over and gently tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. You look down but he gets you to look up at him, putting his index finger under your chin and tilting your head up. When your eyes meet his, you can’t help but smile at his cheeky grin but you also question what he's thinking about.
“Eddie,” he raised an eyebrow as if to ask “what?”, “What's with the cheeky grin? It usually means you're planning something, so what are you planning?” You say with a smile that turns more mischievous as you speak.
Eddie's grin just widens as he leans down to your ear and whispers, “Jason is in for it today. You're going to be with me when we walk in, when we walk to classes, at lunch, and during dismissal. You're a freak now, but you're my freak.” His grin gets impossibly bigger. He leans in and kisses your lips gently for a little peck. “Let's go to school. Together.” He dramatically holds out his hand with a slight bow but never breaks eye contact. You take his hand, and he drags you out to his van.
When he starts the van you find the Classic Rock station, turning it up making Eddie show a proud smile. After around five minutes Eddie's hand had creeped its way over to your thigh to gently rest there. You take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his.
Arriving at school was very dramatic. Eddie gets out, and opens the passenger side offering his hand like the dramatic gentleman he is. Jason had just arrived at school with the rest of the team. When he sees you with Eddie he gets mad again, but he's mainly worried, from you not being home last night. Jason runs over, but you flip him off, throwing your middle finger over your shoulder. In retaliation you walk closer to Eddie who wraps his arm around your waist. Jason is pissed off again but doesn't do anything this time.
After you walk through the doors, heads turn. You freeze for a split second, but close your eyes and just relax at the scent of Eddie's cheap cologne. You start walking with Eddie, his arm around your waist, your hands intertwined, everyone stops talking and looks. You're wearing a random band shirt of Eddie's, his jeans feeling too tight making you hyper aware of every movement your legs make, you being thicker is not helping right now. You get to your locker and he looks around and sticks his tongue out at everyone else before looking back at you and gently placing his hand on your lower back. He leans down and whispers “Baby, you're shaking. Are you okay?” you just nod but he knows it's a lie.
Once he has walked you to your first period and you take your seat, all you can hear are the whispers of your classmates around you. Robin, your best friend, looks over at you, worried, so as the teacher talks she passes a note that reads: “are you okay??? I know all that shit with Eddie is tough but you're shaking. If you need to talk I'm here. :)” you look up at her and smile softly, but quickly hide the note before the teacher sees. After getting lectured for one wrong answer you finish your first period wanting to cry. You hate that teacher, always have, always will, they shouldn't even be a teacher in most people's opinion.
As you walk out of class you look up and see Eddie, smirking. You raise an eyebrow confused on why he's smirking. When he's about to lean against a classroom door it opens and he starts to fall instead, cutting off his words. “Hey there sweetche-” you hear a yelp then a loud thud, papers flying out from the door with a cartoonish “swush” sound. You can't help but just die laughing, Eddie just made your day so much better.
Meanwhile his favorite teacher, and most other people's favorite, pokes her head out of the classroom and sees you giggling at Eddie. You don't know her that well because you, unfortunately, don't have her, you only know her because she lets Hellfire use her classroom for the campaigns.
She looks down at Eddie and stifles her laugh “To impress her?? Dude she is way out of your league.”
You hear her then Eddie go “I know! Don't rub it in my face, man! And we've been dating for six months! So ha! She's my girl!” You giggle even harder at their conversation and go to the classroom door.
“You're right in my league.” you say with a smile. Eddie sticks his hands up with grabbing hands and a playful smile. You roll your eyes and take his hands pulling him up, him, being silly, flies into your arms hugging you tightly, your face going straight to his chest. His teacher smiles proudly and the whole Hellfire club whistles teasingly.
Afterwards you turn around and help him pick up his campaign which is a gumbled up mess now. As you're picking up papers you notice how one is a potion Eddie made. It's a sleep potion and only a true love’s kiss can wake up the person sleeping. At the bottom you see in small writing: “the mage, (you) can only be awoken by the kiss of Relgar the Bloodied.” AKA Eddie's character. You look at him then turn the paper around, “Eddie, what is this?”
He sees it and his eyes widen a little too big and he grabs the paper from your hands. “Nothing! Nothing at all!” His face turns tomato red and you grin knowingly.
You both finish getting the papers and he walks you to your next class but he's still blushing.
When you're walking to lunch after that period Eddie opens the door for you, gesturing with his arm dramatically, saying. “My lady~” you giggle and walk in. During lunch you sit at the Hellfire table next to Eddie who rests his hand on your thigh.
Jason is sitting with the basketball team, not paying attention to them but watching you instead. He notices how Eddie is so gentle and sweet to you, he even sees how protective Eddie is.
Right before dismissal you’re at your locker. You've successfully survived another day in Hawkins High. Eddie comes up leaning a few lockers down, trying to get your attention. Robin comes up next to you where her locker is and opens it, blocking Eddie's view. Next thing you know you look back and you see Eddie looking around Robin at you smiling. “Hey sweetcheeks.”
You roll your eyes at the nickname. “How many times do I have to tell you I hate that name?”
He grins “however many times it takes to get me to stop calling you, sweetcheeks.”
You roll your eyes dramatically, as your brother comes up and stops behind you. “You coming home tonight?” he says not harshly but with a concerned tone. “Mom was worried sick. I just wanted to make sure you're okay.. and… I'm sorry for punching you yesterday. I was angry and aiming for Eddie, not you.” When you turn around you see Jason standing there with his head hanging. “So if it's my fault you didn't come home last night I'm sorry.”
You sigh, “Thank you for apologizing but I don't appreciate getting punched in the face. And yes I'm coming home tonight.”
You turn and walk out with Eddie. Jason stands there for once not knowing what to do.
That afternoon when Eddie drops you off at home your mother runs out and hugs you. “Oh my god! Baby, where have you been?! Don't ever disappear like that again!” She hugs you so tightly that you can't breathe. “And whose clothes are these? They're huge on you!”
You gently push her off you because you need air. “Mom, I'm fine. I borrowed some of my friends' clothes for the day.”
Once inside, your mom gently touches the bruise on your cheekbone that is way worse than yesterday. “What happened? Who did this to you?”
You laugh and point to Jason's room, "Your other child.” Your mother storms into Jason's room and starts lecturing Jason on punching you. After a while you slip up into your room and change into one of Eddie's hoodies you've stolen over the last few months.
The phone rings in your room and you answer “Hello?”
Eddie's voice comes through and you immediately smile. So for the next two hours while doing homework, you lay on your stomach, on your bed, kicking your feet, as you work and talk to Eddie.
Around hour two into the call you hear Jason knock on the door. “Sorry Eddie, Jason wants something I'll call you back in a minute.” You hang up and call out: “What do you want, weirdo?”
Jason comes in, “Is he still on the phone? Because I don't want him to hear this.”
Your eyes narrow but you sit up, “I hung up before you came in. What do you want that's so important?”
Jason takes a deep breath and steps further into the room, “I saw how you were with Eddie today. Him falling into the classroom while trying to be romantic, him opening doors for you, walking you to class, driving you to school this morning… he seems good for you. I still hate him. And I still wanna kill him for making you fall in love with his ass but.. I'll leave you two alone, for now. I won't beat him up as much, and not as bad. You're welcome, dork.”
As you comprehend his words, tears well up in your eyes “Really? You support us?”
Jason looks concerned but slightly amused by your reaction. “Yeah, I guess.”
You jump up and start walking to him. He steps back saying, “What are you doing? Get away from me you freak.” you don't stop but instead you hug him, sobbing happy tears onto his shoulder. He just awkwardly pats your back. “It's okay, you're good, maybe.” he looks over his shoulder and yells “Mom! Bring some chocolate up here! She's on her period again!”
The End,
If you liked this comment, and I'll post a second part! :3
