Hi!
I'm Lucille and I'm a self-published author & fanfic enthusiast ❤️
My books-
HATE OR FATE: zombie apocalypse romance (available for pre-order on Amazon & Kindle Store)
OUTCAST OF SOCIETY: YA rockstar romance (on Amazon, Kindle & Kindle Unlimited)
Lucille Burman Official: TikTok, Instagram, X | Linktree
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings- language
Previous Chapter
Chapter 26- Hollywood Ending
'you got your Hollywood ending'
– Mötley Crüe
*5 Years Later*
Once upon a time, you were a teenager battling actual monsters from another world. Now, you found yourself standing beneath blinding spotlights in front of thousands of screaming fans, singing your own songs.
Life had changed in ways you never could have imagined.
You turned nightmares and heartbreak into platinum records and tour buses. Traded Demogorgons for roaring crowds, microphones and guitars instead of makeshift weapons and handguns.
But through it all there were two constants in your life:
Music.
And Steve Harrington.
Your gaze instinctively flicked to the wings where Steve stood, eyes shining with pride as he watched you perform. He was always there, supporting you from the sidelines.
By now, your name was known around the world. You had multiple number one hits on the Billboard Charts and music awards to go with it, but Steve refused to retire as a middle school teacher and part-time baseball coach. You had more than enough money to support both of you comfortably, but he refused to quit.
Teaching wasn't just a job for him, it was his calling. You understood how much his students meant to him, how he poured every bit of his heart into helping them grow and believe in themselves.
So, you made it work.
Concerts were scheduled with the precision of Eddie's old D&D campaigns. They were always meticulously planned around the school calendar, with summer breaks reserved for your biggest tours and festival runs just so Steve could travel with you and still return to his students.
You wanted him beside you every night and he wanted to be there just as much, cheering you on and sharing the highs and lows of the rock star life.
"Alright," you shouted into the microphone, voice echoing through the arena. "Let's see those lighters in the air!"
Instantly, the darkness was dotted with tiny flames, transforming the stadium into a field of stars as far as you could see.
You took a deep breath and began to strum the familiar chords of Metallica's 'Fade to Black.'
It had become tradition. Every show, no matter where you played, you covered this song. It was your way to say thank you to Metallica for getting you through the darkest times when their music felt like the only thing keeping you afloat.
You looked around at your band, exchanging a gentle smile with Emily, your loyal bassist, before glancing back at Gareth behind his drums. He twirled a drumstick between his fingers and met your gaze with a small nod.
The song swelled around you, the crowd singing along to every word.
But it wasn't until the final chorus when you stepped back from the mic to let them carry the melody and thousands of voices rose together... you felt it.
You felt that same electric buzz Eddie used to chase, the one he swore made playing live better than any high.
Your eyes drifted shut for just a second, soaking it in. When the lyrics ended, your fingers automatically found their positions on the fretboard and you began to play the guitar solo.
The chords echoed through the arena, the same raw and emotional notes that had made you cry when you witnessed Kirk Hammett play it live back in '85. Now, you were playing it in front of your own fans, hoping you were doing the song justice.
When the music began to fade, you opened your eyes again to find Steve still watching you. His smile was infectious as he clapped, wearing his 'I <3 My Rockstar Wife' shirt that he wore to every show.
You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile tugging at your lips.
Some things never changed.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
The crowd erupted into cheers and you turned back toward them, wiping sweat from your brow and grabbed the mic one last time.
"Thank you Los Angeles for being an unforgettable final show of the tour. We got one more song for y'all tonight and then I'm off for some much needed family time."
You glanced down, shifting your guitar slightly to brush a hand over your very obvious baby bump. The same bump that had been making headbanging a literal balancing act these last few months and made Steve worry every time you took the stage.
The crowd aww'd in unison and you flipped them off playfully.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Wait till I'm too sleep deprived to perform two hours sets for you maniacs," you deadpanned, earning a collective chuckle.
Behind you, Gareth smirked and made the dramatic 'ba-dum-tss' beat on his drums like he hadn't been the one anxiously watching you like a hawk on the tour bus whenever you were curled up on the couch in Steve's lap suffering morning sickness.
"This last one's for the outcasts, the fighters, the ones who refuse to be anything but themselves," you said through the mic, adjusting your guitar strap. "This one's for my brother, Eddie Munson."
The opening riff of your breakout hit tore through the speakers and the stadium exploded.
Somewhere between the screaming crowd and the familiar sting of your guitar strings against your fingers, you swore you could hear Eddie's wild cackle ringing through your ears.
Your twin would've loved this.
He would have loved this life you were leading, both on and off stage.
Steve watched with the proudest smile you'd ever seen on his face as you threw your head back and screamed into the mic like you were 17 again, sweat-soaked and rocking the Hideout's small stage.
When the song ended, your band joined you at the front of stage. Emily slung her bass behind her back, looping an arm around your shoulder while Gareth tossed his drumsticks into the crowd before slinging his arm around your other shoulder as you bowed in unison with the audience still cheering.
Eventually, you made your way off stage and Gareth carefully took the guitar from your shoulders before you could protest, knowing damn well the weight of it had been killing your back these days. He passed it off to the nearest roadie and then offered you his arm like some kind of medieval knight escorting a queen.
"Great show, as always!" Emily beamed, high fiving you both before rushing off to her girlfriend.
Gareth chuckled, watching the bassist sweep up her partner and spin her around before he turned his focus back to you as he helped you down the ridiculously steep steps.
"Just for the record, I still think you're insane touring this pregnant. I can't believe you didn't miss a single show," he commented.
"And I can't believe Gareth the Great doubted me," you shot back.
He snorted softly at the old nickname, helping you down the last step and only letting you go once your feet were firmly on solid ground.
Steve was there a moment later, holding out a bottle of water.
"You," he said, voice rough with emotion, "were unreal out there."
You smiled, accepting the water gratefully and taking a sip.
Steve's hand slid to cradle your bump, thumb brushing over the stretched fabric of your Iron Maiden shirt just as the baby gave a strong kick beneath his palm. His eyes lit up and you chuckled softly, covering his hand with yours as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your sweaty forehead.
"Ugh, I'm out. Save the domestic bliss for the hotel room." Gareth clapped Steve's shoulder as he passed. "Congrats, man. Kid's already got better rhythm than you."
Steve rolled his eyes as Gareth retreated, flipping him the bird before turning his attention back to you.
"You okay?" he asked quietly, free hand wrapping around your waist. "No dizziness or anything? You were up there for nearly three hours."
You leaned into his touch with a breathless laugh. "I'm fine, Harrington. Quit fussing."
"You're nearly due. I'm just-"
"Worried," you cut in. "Yes, I'm aware."
He opened his mouth to argue, but you silenced him with a quick kiss.
His protests were instantly quieted as he leaned in. He pulled you a little closer and kissed you back, ignoring the roadies smirking at the sight that they had become all too familiar with over the past few months.
"God, I love you," he murmured against your lips.
You smiled and pulled away slightly, running your fingers through his messy hair.
"I love you too. Now let's go home before the baby decides to debut backstage like a mini rockstar."
His eyes widened in mock horror, his hands tightening protectively around your waist.
"Do not joke about that. Y'know how many nightmares I've had of your water breaking mid-show? Jesus Christ."
Suddenly, a familiar face burst through the sea of backstage crew. Dustin held up his VIP pass toward security before dashing toward you. He was now very much an adult but somehow still radiated chaotic little brother energy that you loved.
"That was epic!" he declared, bouncing on his heels. "The crowd went nuts when you did Eddie's spin move... well, the modified pregnancy friendly version of Eddie's spin move."
You snorted and pulled Dustin into a hug. "Yeah, well, tell that to my back. Pretty sure I pulled something."
Steve's expression immediately shifted to 'concerned husband mode'.
"That's it. No more touring while pregnant."
"It's the end of the tour anyway," you reminded him with a smirk.
"Well, when you're pregnant again, no touring," he corrected.
You arched an eyebrow. "Again?"
Steve blinked, suddenly realising what he'd just implied and his cheeks flushed.
"I mean... if you want- not that we have to. Unless..." he stumbled over his words.
Dustin snorted. "Wow. Smooth, Steve."
"Relax, Harrington," you teased affectionately. "We'll talk about baby number two after this one's done using my bladder as a trampoline."
His expression softened, his hands sliding to cradle your bump again just as the baby gave another enthusiastic kick. His smile was stupidly tender, the same way it had been when you'd shown him the positive test or when he'd gotten down on one knee and you'd said yes or when he'd watched you take the stage on your first headlining tour.
You pressed a kiss to his lips, ignoring Dustin making a fake gagging sound behind you. Right now, all you wanted to focus on was Steve and the little miracle growing inside of you.
And maybe some sleep. And a long, warm bath. If your back wasn't screaming in protest, you might have suggested something a bit more fun, but that was a fantasy for another time.
-
Hawkins hadn't changed much over the years. There were still the same old stores along Main Street, same faded mural in the middle of town for the lives lost during the 'earthquake'. The only real difference was the way people looked at you now.
Back in the late '80s, they'd sneered when you walked by, whispering 'murderer' under their breath. Now? Now they smiled and asked for autographs, pretending they hadn't spent years treating you like a pariah.
You didn't hold it against them. Mostly.
Your mansion was a sprawling two-story building tucked into the woods at the edge of town. Tall security fences surrounded the premises, proving safety and privacy that you and Steve both cherished.
Uncle Wayne now had his own house too, no longer slumming it in the trailer park, struggling to pay rent. It was the first thing you did when you got your first big paycheck. Wayne had spent so many years fighting to give you and Eddie a better life and you had been able to return the favour.
The mortgage was paid for despite him insisting that it wasn't necessary but you hadn't missed the tears that glistened in his eyes when you hugged him and handed him the keys.
Inside, your mansion was warm and cozy. Pictures hung on the walls, documenting the years of your new life. Steve's teaching certificate, old newspaper articles from your first sold-out concert next to pictures of you and Steve at the Grammys.
It felt surreal to think that all of this had happened within five years.
The living room had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the woods. It was your favourite spot in the entire house and most of your biggest songs had been written there, fingers flying over the strings of your guitar while Steve sat at the table, grading papers or half-watching basketball with commentary you'd long since learned to tune out.
Currently, you were curled up on the couch, scribbling half formed lyrics when Steve walked into the house, arms filled with grocery bags and diapers.
He took one look at you, hunched over your notebook with a pen in your hand and his eyes instantly narrowed.
"Oh hell no." He shook his head, kicking the door shut behind him. "You just had a baby, like, less than a week ago and you are not supposed to be working right now."
You barely glanced up, tapping your pen against the page as a melody played in your head.
He dropped the groceries onto the counter with a pointed thud.
"Pretty sure the doctor said no strenuous activity and knowing you, you're about five minutes away from grabbing a guitar to test out whatever chaos you're scribbling there."
You paused, looking up to shoot him a half-hearted glare.
He wasn't wrong. Your fingers were itching to pluck the strings of your acoustic and make the melody in your head come to life, but you'd be damned if you admitted it.
Steve crossed the room and plucked the notebook from your hands, tossing it onto the coffee table before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.
"You're relentless," he muttered, voice equal parts exasperated and fond.
You grinned up at him, stretching your arms above your head with a wince, your stitches were still tender.
"What can I say? Inspiration waits for no one. Besides, the baby's finally asleep and I needed something to do besides stare at the walls."
"Y'know, normal people rest in bed after pushing a whole-ass human from their body," he pointed out.
You shot him a look. "Since when have you known me to be normal?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, you should still rest instead of trying to compose a new song with your brain still half-fried from..." He made a vague gesture to your stomach and you swatted his arm.
"That's a low blow, Harrington," you huffed. "My brain is functioning perfectly, thank you."
"Really?" He reached over and gently tugged the pen from your fingers. "Then tell me what day it is."
You opened your mouth and then paused.
"...Tuesday?"
"It's Friday."
"Okay, but in my defense, time doesn't exist with a newborn. It's just one endless cycle of feeding, diapers and trying not to cry when she makes that adorable little baby noise."
Steve's expression softened and he sank onto the couch beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders.
"You're incredible, you know that?"
You snorted. "Because I forgot what day it is?"
"Because you just bought our kid into the world and you're already thinking about your next album." His thumb brushed along your shoulder gently. "But please let yourself rest. The music will still be there when you're healed."
You leaned into him with a sigh, letting your eyes drift shut.
"Fine. But only because you're cute when you're bossy."
"I'll take it," he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.
-
You must have fallen asleep against his chest because the next thing you knew, your eyes were snapping open to the loud ringing of the landline.
Steve swore under his breath, untangling his arms from around you and lunging for the phone before it could wake the baby.
"Hello?" he answered, raising the phone to his ear.
You yawned, running a hand through your tangled hair just as the all too familiar wail of your daughter erupted from the nursey.
"Robin," Steve hissed into the phone, shooting a glare at the receiver like she could see it. "You just woke up the baby."
You chuckled and gingerly stood up from the couch. Steve shot you an apologetic look, but you just shook your head with a small smile.
"Tell Robin I said hi," you murmured, already walking toward the nursery. "And that she owes us for this."
Steve nodded as you disappeared down the hall, listening to him mutter, "Yeah, no, she's fine, just pissed at you- what do you mean 'how do I know?' She literally just said-"
The sound of his bickering faded as you reached the nursery.
Your heart swelled at the sight of your daughter with her tiny fists waving, face scrunched up in outrage at the world's injustices.
"Hey, Edwina," you cooed, scooping her up gently. "Aunt Robin's got terrible timing, huh?"
She sniffled, blinking up at you with Steve's big brown eyes before nestling against your chest, already settling at the sound of your voice. You adjusted her Hellfire onesie, the one the kids – who aren't really kids anymore – had gifted at the baby shower a few weeks ago.
You rocked Edwina gently, humming a soft rendition of 'Sweet Child O' Mine' because your daughter was going to be raised on a steady diet of rock 'n' roll whether she liked it or not.
Her fingers curled around the chain of your necklace, where Eddie's old skull ring hung against your chest.
"Yeah, kid," you whispered, blinking back the sudden wetness in your eyes. "Your Uncle Eddie would've loved you."
You weren't sure how long you stood there, cradling your daughter, caught in memories of the past, when the soft creak of a floorboard interrupted the silence. Steve appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
"Well, Robin sends her love. And she also said she'll bring over those bread sticks you love from Enzo's as an apology-" He cut himself off when he noticed the unshed tears glistening in your eyes. "Whoa, hey, are you okay?"
"Fine. Fine, I'm fine. Just... hormones. They're a real joy," you mumbled, giving him a small, weak smile.
Steve was immediately in front of you, one hand sliding around your waist gently.
"Hey," he whispered, tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "Talk to me."
You huffed a laugh, a stray tear escaping and rolling down your cheek.
"I'm being stupid."
He brushed the tear away with his thumb. "There's nothing stupid about what you're feeling."
"It's just... Ed... Eddie would've loved her. And I- I wish..." You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
Steve pulled you gently against his chest, careful not to squeeze too tight with the baby between you. His chin rested on top of your head as your tears flowed properly now.
"I know," he murmured into your hair. "I wish he could see her too. See you... how amazing you are at this." His hand rubbed slow circles on your back. "But she's gonna know him. Through us, through Wayne, through the stories. Hell, she's already got his taste in music, she calmed down the second you started humming Guns N' Roses, right? Just like she always does."
You laughed wetly against his shoulders, Edwina making a tiny cooing noise as if to agree.
Steve pulled back just enough to wipe your cheeks again, his own eyes suspiciously bright.
"And when she's older, we'll take her to the Hideout. Show her where her Uncle Eddie and Mum ruled the stage as teenagers," he added.
You nodded, swallowing past the lump in your throat as you looked down at your daughter.
The three of you stayed like that for a long moment with his arms wrapped around you both and the baby tucked safely against your chest. He kissed your forehead gently, then Edwina's as a comfortable silence settled over the nursery.
Eventually, he pulled away just enough to meet your eyes.
"Hungry?" he asked softly. "I could reheat that lasagna from Joyce."
You smiled. "That sounds perfect."
You carefully shifted Edwina in your arms and lowered her into the crib. Your hand lingered on the railing watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, making sure she was fully asleep and safe.
Steve gently reached out and took your head, leading you quietly out the nursey. You squeezed his hand as you walked down the hall past the gold records, school awards and framed photos of the chaotic, chosen family that had somehow made it through monsters, heartbreak and Hawkins special brand of small-town drama.
Steve's fingers intertwined with yours as you stepped into the kitchen where half-unpacked groceries still sat on the counter and you smiled at the mundane sight.
He glanced back at you, thumb brushing over your knuckles. "What?"
You shook your head. "Nothing. Just... thinking how strange it is that after everything... this is our life now."
Steve grinned, that same crooked, charming grin that used to make your stomach flip back in high school.
"Yeah, well." He shrugged, his smile softening. "Stranger things have happened, right?"
You chuckled softly, nodding in agreement.
If anyone had told that angry, grieving girl from 1986 that this would be her future?
Well...
You would have laughed in their face.
But here you were, with a life that was everything younger you never dared to dream of.
You weren't just surviving anymore. You were happy. Not the kind of happiness that faded with the sunset, but the deep, steady kind that settled in your bones and stayed. It was the kind of happiness that was worth keeping. The kind worth fighting for. The kind you never thought you'd have.
Hawkins had tried to bury you once.
Now, it was watching you thrive.
-
THE END
-
A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it this far, I know the whole 'marriage and kids' ending isn't everyone's favourite and normally I would steer clear of it, but it felt fitting for this fanfic and I enjoyed writing it.
I have just published my second book: HATE OR FATE by Lucille Burman. It's a zombie apocalypse/enemies to lovers romance and is available for pre-order on Amazon & Kindle Store (link in bio)
My debut novel (published last year) OUTCAST OF SOCIETY was actually inspired by Eddie Munson and is a young adult rockstar romance. So, if you haven't checked it out, it's available on Amazon, Kindle and Kindle Unlimited.
Anyway, I'm sure I'll be back with more fanfics in the near future. But until then, stay safe everyone and have a great day xx
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings- language
Previous Chapter
Chapter 26- Hollywood Ending
'you got your Hollywood ending'
– Mötley Crüe
*5 Years Later*
Once upon a time, you were a teenager battling actual monsters from another world. Now, you found yourself standing beneath blinding spotlights in front of thousands of screaming fans, singing your own songs.
Life had changed in ways you never could have imagined.
You turned nightmares and heartbreak into platinum records and tour buses. Traded Demogorgons for roaring crowds, microphones and guitars instead of makeshift weapons and handguns.
But through it all there were two constants in your life:
Music.
And Steve Harrington.
Your gaze instinctively flicked to the wings where Steve stood, eyes shining with pride as he watched you perform. He was always there, supporting you from the sidelines.
By now, your name was known around the world. You had multiple number one hits on the Billboard Charts and music awards to go with it, but Steve refused to retire as a middle school teacher and part-time baseball coach. You had more than enough money to support both of you comfortably, but he refused to quit.
Teaching wasn't just a job for him, it was his calling. You understood how much his students meant to him, how he poured every bit of his heart into helping them grow and believe in themselves.
So, you made it work.
Concerts were scheduled with the precision of Eddie's old D&D campaigns. They were always meticulously planned around the school calendar, with summer breaks reserved for your biggest tours and festival runs just so Steve could travel with you and still return to his students.
You wanted him beside you every night and he wanted to be there just as much, cheering you on and sharing the highs and lows of the rock star life.
"Alright," you shouted into the microphone, voice echoing through the arena. "Let's see those lighters in the air!"
Instantly, the darkness was dotted with tiny flames, transforming the stadium into a field of stars as far as you could see.
You took a deep breath and began to strum the familiar chords of Metallica's 'Fade to Black.'
It had become tradition. Every show, no matter where you played, you covered this song. It was your way to say thank you to Metallica for getting you through the darkest times when their music felt like the only thing keeping you afloat.
You looked around at your band, exchanging a gentle smile with Emily, your loyal bassist, before glancing back at Gareth behind his drums. He twirled a drumstick between his fingers and met your gaze with a small nod.
The song swelled around you, the crowd singing along to every word.
But it wasn't until the final chorus when you stepped back from the mic to let them carry the melody and thousands of voices rose together... you felt it.
You felt that same electric buzz Eddie used to chase, the one he swore made playing live better than any high.
Your eyes drifted shut for just a second, soaking it in. When the lyrics ended, your fingers automatically found their positions on the fretboard and you began to play the guitar solo.
The chords echoed through the arena, the same raw and emotional notes that had made you cry when you witnessed Kirk Hammett play it live back in '85. Now, you were playing it in front of your own fans, hoping you were doing the song justice.
When the music began to fade, you opened your eyes again to find Steve still watching you. His smile was infectious as he clapped, wearing his 'I <3 My Rockstar Wife' shirt that he wore to every show.
You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile tugging at your lips.
Some things never changed.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
The crowd erupted into cheers and you turned back toward them, wiping sweat from your brow and grabbed the mic one last time.
"Thank you Los Angeles for being an unforgettable final show of the tour. We got one more song for y'all tonight and then I'm off for some much needed family time."
You glanced down, shifting your guitar slightly to brush a hand over your very obvious baby bump. The same bump that had been making headbanging a literal balancing act these last few months and made Steve worry every time you took the stage.
The crowd aww'd in unison and you flipped them off playfully.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Wait till I'm too sleep deprived to perform two hours sets for you maniacs," you deadpanned, earning a collective chuckle.
Behind you, Gareth smirked and made the dramatic 'ba-dum-tss' beat on his drums like he hadn't been the one anxiously watching you like a hawk on the tour bus whenever you were curled up on the couch in Steve's lap suffering morning sickness.
"This last one's for the outcasts, the fighters, the ones who refuse to be anything but themselves," you said through the mic, adjusting your guitar strap. "This one's for my brother, Eddie Munson."
The opening riff of your breakout hit tore through the speakers and the stadium exploded.
Somewhere between the screaming crowd and the familiar sting of your guitar strings against your fingers, you swore you could hear Eddie's wild cackle ringing through your ears.
Your twin would've loved this.
He would have loved this life you were leading, both on and off stage.
Steve watched with the proudest smile you'd ever seen on his face as you threw your head back and screamed into the mic like you were 17 again, sweat-soaked and rocking the Hideout's small stage.
When the song ended, your band joined you at the front of stage. Emily slung her bass behind her back, looping an arm around your shoulder while Gareth tossed his drumsticks into the crowd before slinging his arm around your other shoulder as you bowed in unison with the audience still cheering.
Eventually, you made your way off stage and Gareth carefully took the guitar from your shoulders before you could protest, knowing damn well the weight of it had been killing your back these days. He passed it off to the nearest roadie and then offered you his arm like some kind of medieval knight escorting a queen.
"Great show, as always!" Emily beamed, high fiving you both before rushing off to her girlfriend.
Gareth chuckled, watching the bassist sweep up her partner and spin her around before he turned his focus back to you as he helped you down the ridiculously steep steps.
"Just for the record, I still think you're insane touring this pregnant. I can't believe you didn't miss a single show," he commented.
"And I can't believe Gareth the Great doubted me," you shot back.
He snorted softly at the old nickname, helping you down the last step and only letting you go once your feet were firmly on solid ground.
Steve was there a moment later, holding out a bottle of water.
"You," he said, voice rough with emotion, "were unreal out there."
You smiled, accepting the water gratefully and taking a sip.
Steve's hand slid to cradle your bump, thumb brushing over the stretched fabric of your Iron Maiden shirt just as the baby gave a strong kick beneath his palm. His eyes lit up and you chuckled softly, covering his hand with yours as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your sweaty forehead.
"Ugh, I'm out. Save the domestic bliss for the hotel room." Gareth clapped Steve's shoulder as he passed. "Congrats, man. Kid's already got better rhythm than you."
Steve rolled his eyes as Gareth retreated, flipping him the bird before turning his attention back to you.
"You okay?" he asked quietly, free hand wrapping around your waist. "No dizziness or anything? You were up there for nearly three hours."
You leaned into his touch with a breathless laugh. "I'm fine, Harrington. Quit fussing."
"You're nearly due. I'm just-"
"Worried," you cut in. "Yes, I'm aware."
He opened his mouth to argue, but you silenced him with a quick kiss.
His protests were instantly quieted as he leaned in. He pulled you a little closer and kissed you back, ignoring the roadies smirking at the sight that they had become all too familiar with over the past few months.
"God, I love you," he murmured against your lips.
You smiled and pulled away slightly, running your fingers through his messy hair.
"I love you too. Now let's go home before the baby decides to debut backstage like a mini rockstar."
His eyes widened in mock horror, his hands tightening protectively around your waist.
"Do not joke about that. Y'know how many nightmares I've had of your water breaking mid-show? Jesus Christ."
Suddenly, a familiar face burst through the sea of backstage crew. Dustin held up his VIP pass toward security before dashing toward you. He was now very much an adult but somehow still radiated chaotic little brother energy that you loved.
"That was epic!" he declared, bouncing on his heels. "The crowd went nuts when you did Eddie's spin move... well, the modified pregnancy friendly version of Eddie's spin move."
You snorted and pulled Dustin into a hug. "Yeah, well, tell that to my back. Pretty sure I pulled something."
Steve's expression immediately shifted to 'concerned husband mode'.
"That's it. No more touring while pregnant."
"It's the end of the tour anyway," you reminded him with a smirk.
"Well, when you're pregnant again, no touring," he corrected.
You arched an eyebrow. "Again?"
Steve blinked, suddenly realising what he'd just implied and his cheeks flushed.
"I mean... if you want- not that we have to. Unless..." he stumbled over his words.
Dustin snorted. "Wow. Smooth, Steve."
"Relax, Harrington," you teased affectionately. "We'll talk about baby number two after this one's done using my bladder as a trampoline."
His expression softened, his hands sliding to cradle your bump again just as the baby gave another enthusiastic kick. His smile was stupidly tender, the same way it had been when you'd shown him the positive test or when he'd gotten down on one knee and you'd said yes or when he'd watched you take the stage on your first headlining tour.
You pressed a kiss to his lips, ignoring Dustin making a fake gagging sound behind you. Right now, all you wanted to focus on was Steve and the little miracle growing inside of you.
And maybe some sleep. And a long, warm bath. If your back wasn't screaming in protest, you might have suggested something a bit more fun, but that was a fantasy for another time.
-
Hawkins hadn't changed much over the years. There were still the same old stores along Main Street, same faded mural in the middle of town for the lives lost during the 'earthquake'. The only real difference was the way people looked at you now.
Back in the late '80s, they'd sneered when you walked by, whispering 'murderer' under their breath. Now? Now they smiled and asked for autographs, pretending they hadn't spent years treating you like a pariah.
You didn't hold it against them. Mostly.
Your mansion was a sprawling two-story building tucked into the woods at the edge of town. Tall security fences surrounded the premises, proving safety and privacy that you and Steve both cherished.
Uncle Wayne now had his own house too, no longer slumming it in the trailer park, struggling to pay rent. It was the first thing you did when you got your first big paycheck. Wayne had spent so many years fighting to give you and Eddie a better life and you had been able to return the favour.
The mortgage was paid for despite him insisting that it wasn't necessary but you hadn't missed the tears that glistened in his eyes when you hugged him and handed him the keys.
Inside, your mansion was warm and cozy. Pictures hung on the walls, documenting the years of your new life. Steve's teaching certificate, old newspaper articles from your first sold-out concert next to pictures of you and Steve at the Grammys.
It felt surreal to think that all of this had happened within five years.
The living room had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the woods. It was your favourite spot in the entire house and most of your biggest songs had been written there, fingers flying over the strings of your guitar while Steve sat at the table, grading papers or half-watching basketball with commentary you'd long since learned to tune out.
Currently, you were curled up on the couch, scribbling half formed lyrics when Steve walked into the house, arms filled with grocery bags and diapers.
He took one look at you, hunched over your notebook with a pen in your hand and his eyes instantly narrowed.
"Oh hell no." He shook his head, kicking the door shut behind him. "You just had a baby, like, less than a week ago and you are not supposed to be working right now."
You barely glanced up, tapping your pen against the page as a melody played in your head.
He dropped the groceries onto the counter with a pointed thud.
"Pretty sure the doctor said no strenuous activity and knowing you, you're about five minutes away from grabbing a guitar to test out whatever chaos you're scribbling there."
You paused, looking up to shoot him a half-hearted glare.
He wasn't wrong. Your fingers were itching to pluck the strings of your acoustic and make the melody in your head come to life, but you'd be damned if you admitted it.
Steve crossed the room and plucked the notebook from your hands, tossing it onto the coffee table before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.
"You're relentless," he muttered, voice equal parts exasperated and fond.
You grinned up at him, stretching your arms above your head with a wince, your stitches were still tender.
"What can I say? Inspiration waits for no one. Besides, the baby's finally asleep and I needed something to do besides stare at the walls."
"Y'know, normal people rest in bed after pushing a whole-ass human from their body," he pointed out.
You shot him a look. "Since when have you known me to be normal?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, you should still rest instead of trying to compose a new song with your brain still half-fried from..." He made a vague gesture to your stomach and you swatted his arm.
"That's a low blow, Harrington," you huffed. "My brain is functioning perfectly, thank you."
"Really?" He reached over and gently tugged the pen from your fingers. "Then tell me what day it is."
You opened your mouth and then paused.
"...Tuesday?"
"It's Friday."
"Okay, but in my defense, time doesn't exist with a newborn. It's just one endless cycle of feeding, diapers and trying not to cry when she makes that adorable little baby noise."
Steve's expression softened and he sank onto the couch beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders.
"You're incredible, you know that?"
You snorted. "Because I forgot what day it is?"
"Because you just bought our kid into the world and you're already thinking about your next album." His thumb brushed along your shoulder gently. "But please let yourself rest. The music will still be there when you're healed."
You leaned into him with a sigh, letting your eyes drift shut.
"Fine. But only because you're cute when you're bossy."
"I'll take it," he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.
-
You must have fallen asleep against his chest because the next thing you knew, your eyes were snapping open to the loud ringing of the landline.
Steve swore under his breath, untangling his arms from around you and lunging for the phone before it could wake the baby.
"Hello?" he answered, raising the phone to his ear.
You yawned, running a hand through your tangled hair just as the all too familiar wail of your daughter erupted from the nursey.
"Robin," Steve hissed into the phone, shooting a glare at the receiver like she could see it. "You just woke up the baby."
You chuckled and gingerly stood up from the couch. Steve shot you an apologetic look, but you just shook your head with a small smile.
"Tell Robin I said hi," you murmured, already walking toward the nursery. "And that she owes us for this."
Steve nodded as you disappeared down the hall, listening to him mutter, "Yeah, no, she's fine, just pissed at you- what do you mean 'how do I know?' She literally just said-"
The sound of his bickering faded as you reached the nursery.
Your heart swelled at the sight of your daughter with her tiny fists waving, face scrunched up in outrage at the world's injustices.
"Hey, Edwina," you cooed, scooping her up gently. "Aunt Robin's got terrible timing, huh?"
She sniffled, blinking up at you with Steve's big brown eyes before nestling against your chest, already settling at the sound of your voice. You adjusted her Hellfire onesie, the one the kids – who aren't really kids anymore – had gifted at the baby shower a few weeks ago.
You rocked Edwina gently, humming a soft rendition of 'Sweet Child O' Mine' because your daughter was going to be raised on a steady diet of rock 'n' roll whether she liked it or not.
Her fingers curled around the chain of your necklace, where Eddie's old skull ring hung against your chest.
"Yeah, kid," you whispered, blinking back the sudden wetness in your eyes. "Your Uncle Eddie would've loved you."
You weren't sure how long you stood there, cradling your daughter, caught in memories of the past, when the soft creak of a floorboard interrupted the silence. Steve appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
"Well, Robin sends her love. And she also said she'll bring over those bread sticks you love from Enzo's as an apology-" He cut himself off when he noticed the unshed tears glistening in your eyes. "Whoa, hey, are you okay?"
"Fine. Fine, I'm fine. Just... hormones. They're a real joy," you mumbled, giving him a small, weak smile.
Steve was immediately in front of you, one hand sliding around your waist gently.
"Hey," he whispered, tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "Talk to me."
You huffed a laugh, a stray tear escaping and rolling down your cheek.
"I'm being stupid."
He brushed the tear away with his thumb. "There's nothing stupid about what you're feeling."
"It's just... Ed... Eddie would've loved her. And I- I wish..." You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
Steve pulled you gently against his chest, careful not to squeeze too tight with the baby between you. His chin rested on top of your head as your tears flowed properly now.
"I know," he murmured into your hair. "I wish he could see her too. See you... how amazing you are at this." His hand rubbed slow circles on your back. "But she's gonna know him. Through us, through Wayne, through the stories. Hell, she's already got his taste in music, she calmed down the second you started humming Guns N' Roses, right? Just like she always does."
You laughed wetly against his shoulders, Edwina making a tiny cooing noise as if to agree.
Steve pulled back just enough to wipe your cheeks again, his own eyes suspiciously bright.
"And when she's older, we'll take her to the Hideout. Show her where her Uncle Eddie and Mum ruled the stage as teenagers," he added.
You nodded, swallowing past the lump in your throat as you looked down at your daughter.
The three of you stayed like that for a long moment with his arms wrapped around you both and the baby tucked safely against your chest. He kissed your forehead gently, then Edwina's as a comfortable silence settled over the nursery.
Eventually, he pulled away just enough to meet your eyes.
"Hungry?" he asked softly. "I could reheat that lasagna from Joyce."
You smiled. "That sounds perfect."
You carefully shifted Edwina in your arms and lowered her into the crib. Your hand lingered on the railing watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, making sure she was fully asleep and safe.
Steve gently reached out and took your head, leading you quietly out the nursey. You squeezed his hand as you walked down the hall past the gold records, school awards and framed photos of the chaotic, chosen family that had somehow made it through monsters, heartbreak and Hawkins special brand of small-town drama.
Steve's fingers intertwined with yours as you stepped into the kitchen where half-unpacked groceries still sat on the counter and you smiled at the mundane sight.
He glanced back at you, thumb brushing over your knuckles. "What?"
You shook your head. "Nothing. Just... thinking how strange it is that after everything... this is our life now."
Steve grinned, that same crooked, charming grin that used to make your stomach flip back in high school.
"Yeah, well." He shrugged, his smile softening. "Stranger things have happened, right?"
You chuckled softly, nodding in agreement.
If anyone had told that angry, grieving girl from 1986 that this would be her future?
Well...
You would have laughed in their face.
But here you were, with a life that was everything younger you never dared to dream of.
You weren't just surviving anymore. You were happy. Not the kind of happiness that faded with the sunset, but the deep, steady kind that settled in your bones and stayed. It was the kind of happiness that was worth keeping. The kind worth fighting for. The kind you never thought you'd have.
Hawkins had tried to bury you once.
Now, it was watching you thrive.
-
THE END
-
A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it this far, I know the whole 'marriage and kids' ending isn't everyone's favourite and normally I would steer clear of it, but it felt fitting for this fanfic and I enjoyed writing it.
I have just published my second book: HATE OR FATE by Lucille Burman. It's a zombie apocalypse/enemies to lovers romance and is available for pre-order on Amazon & Kindle Store (link in bio)
My debut novel (published last year) OUTCAST OF SOCIETY was actually inspired by Eddie Munson and is a young adult rockstar romance. So, if you haven't checked it out, it's available on Amazon, Kindle and Kindle Unlimited.
Anyway, I'm sure I'll be back with more fanfics in the near future. But until then, stay safe everyone and have a great day xx
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings- language
Previous Chapter
Chapter 26- Hollywood Ending
'you got your Hollywood ending'
– Mötley Crüe
*5 Years Later*
Once upon a time, you were a teenager battling actual monsters from another world. Now, you found yourself standing beneath blinding spotlights in front of thousands of screaming fans, singing your own songs.
Life had changed in ways you never could have imagined.
You turned nightmares and heartbreak into platinum records and tour buses. Traded Demogorgons for roaring crowds, microphones and guitars instead of makeshift weapons and handguns.
But through it all there were two constants in your life:
Music.
And Steve Harrington.
Your gaze instinctively flicked to the wings where Steve stood, eyes shining with pride as he watched you perform. He was always there, supporting you from the sidelines.
By now, your name was known around the world. You had multiple number one hits on the Billboard Charts and music awards to go with it, but Steve refused to retire as a middle school teacher and part-time baseball coach. You had more than enough money to support both of you comfortably, but he refused to quit.
Teaching wasn't just a job for him, it was his calling. You understood how much his students meant to him, how he poured every bit of his heart into helping them grow and believe in themselves.
So, you made it work.
Concerts were scheduled with the precision of Eddie's old D&D campaigns. They were always meticulously planned around the school calendar, with summer breaks reserved for your biggest tours and festival runs just so Steve could travel with you and still return to his students.
You wanted him beside you every night and he wanted to be there just as much, cheering you on and sharing the highs and lows of the rock star life.
"Alright," you shouted into the microphone, voice echoing through the arena. "Let's see those lighters in the air!"
Instantly, the darkness was dotted with tiny flames, transforming the stadium into a field of stars as far as you could see.
You took a deep breath and began to strum the familiar chords of Metallica's 'Fade to Black.'
It had become tradition. Every show, no matter where you played, you covered this song. It was your way to say thank you to Metallica for getting you through the darkest times when their music felt like the only thing keeping you afloat.
You looked around at your band, exchanging a gentle smile with Emily, your loyal bassist, before glancing back at Gareth behind his drums. He twirled a drumstick between his fingers and met your gaze with a small nod.
The song swelled around you, the crowd singing along to every word.
But it wasn't until the final chorus when you stepped back from the mic to let them carry the melody and thousands of voices rose together... you felt it.
You felt that same electric buzz Eddie used to chase, the one he swore made playing live better than any high.
Your eyes drifted shut for just a second, soaking it in. When the lyrics ended, your fingers automatically found their positions on the fretboard and you began to play the guitar solo.
The chords echoed through the arena, the same raw and emotional notes that had made you cry when you witnessed Kirk Hammett play it live back in '85. Now, you were playing it in front of your own fans, hoping you were doing the song justice.
When the music began to fade, you opened your eyes again to find Steve still watching you. His smile was infectious as he clapped, wearing his 'I <3 My Rockstar Wife' shirt that he wore to every show.
You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile tugging at your lips.
Some things never changed.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
The crowd erupted into cheers and you turned back toward them, wiping sweat from your brow and grabbed the mic one last time.
"Thank you Los Angeles for being an unforgettable final show of the tour. We got one more song for y'all tonight and then I'm off for some much needed family time."
You glanced down, shifting your guitar slightly to brush a hand over your very obvious baby bump. The same bump that had been making headbanging a literal balancing act these last few months and made Steve worry every time you took the stage.
The crowd aww'd in unison and you flipped them off playfully.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Wait till I'm too sleep deprived to perform two hours sets for you maniacs," you deadpanned, earning a collective chuckle.
Behind you, Gareth smirked and made the dramatic 'ba-dum-tss' beat on his drums like he hadn't been the one anxiously watching you like a hawk on the tour bus whenever you were curled up on the couch in Steve's lap suffering morning sickness.
"This last one's for the outcasts, the fighters, the ones who refuse to be anything but themselves," you said through the mic, adjusting your guitar strap. "This one's for my brother, Eddie Munson."
The opening riff of your breakout hit tore through the speakers and the stadium exploded.
Somewhere between the screaming crowd and the familiar sting of your guitar strings against your fingers, you swore you could hear Eddie's wild cackle ringing through your ears.
Your twin would've loved this.
He would have loved this life you were leading, both on and off stage.
Steve watched with the proudest smile you'd ever seen on his face as you threw your head back and screamed into the mic like you were 17 again, sweat-soaked and rocking the Hideout's small stage.
When the song ended, your band joined you at the front of stage. Emily slung her bass behind her back, looping an arm around your shoulder while Gareth tossed his drumsticks into the crowd before slinging his arm around your other shoulder as you bowed in unison with the audience still cheering.
Eventually, you made your way off stage and Gareth carefully took the guitar from your shoulders before you could protest, knowing damn well the weight of it had been killing your back these days. He passed it off to the nearest roadie and then offered you his arm like some kind of medieval knight escorting a queen.
"Great show, as always!" Emily beamed, high fiving you both before rushing off to her girlfriend.
Gareth chuckled, watching the bassist sweep up her partner and spin her around before he turned his focus back to you as he helped you down the ridiculously steep steps.
"Just for the record, I still think you're insane touring this pregnant. I can't believe you didn't miss a single show," he commented.
"And I can't believe Gareth the Great doubted me," you shot back.
He snorted softly at the old nickname, helping you down the last step and only letting you go once your feet were firmly on solid ground.
Steve was there a moment later, holding out a bottle of water.
"You," he said, voice rough with emotion, "were unreal out there."
You smiled, accepting the water gratefully and taking a sip.
Steve's hand slid to cradle your bump, thumb brushing over the stretched fabric of your Iron Maiden shirt just as the baby gave a strong kick beneath his palm. His eyes lit up and you chuckled softly, covering his hand with yours as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your sweaty forehead.
"Ugh, I'm out. Save the domestic bliss for the hotel room." Gareth clapped Steve's shoulder as he passed. "Congrats, man. Kid's already got better rhythm than you."
Steve rolled his eyes as Gareth retreated, flipping him the bird before turning his attention back to you.
"You okay?" he asked quietly, free hand wrapping around your waist. "No dizziness or anything? You were up there for nearly three hours."
You leaned into his touch with a breathless laugh. "I'm fine, Harrington. Quit fussing."
"You're nearly due. I'm just-"
"Worried," you cut in. "Yes, I'm aware."
He opened his mouth to argue, but you silenced him with a quick kiss.
His protests were instantly quieted as he leaned in. He pulled you a little closer and kissed you back, ignoring the roadies smirking at the sight that they had become all too familiar with over the past few months.
"God, I love you," he murmured against your lips.
You smiled and pulled away slightly, running your fingers through his messy hair.
"I love you too. Now let's go home before the baby decides to debut backstage like a mini rockstar."
His eyes widened in mock horror, his hands tightening protectively around your waist.
"Do not joke about that. Y'know how many nightmares I've had of your water breaking mid-show? Jesus Christ."
Suddenly, a familiar face burst through the sea of backstage crew. Dustin held up his VIP pass toward security before dashing toward you. He was now very much an adult but somehow still radiated chaotic little brother energy that you loved.
"That was epic!" he declared, bouncing on his heels. "The crowd went nuts when you did Eddie's spin move... well, the modified pregnancy friendly version of Eddie's spin move."
You snorted and pulled Dustin into a hug. "Yeah, well, tell that to my back. Pretty sure I pulled something."
Steve's expression immediately shifted to 'concerned husband mode'.
"That's it. No more touring while pregnant."
"It's the end of the tour anyway," you reminded him with a smirk.
"Well, when you're pregnant again, no touring," he corrected.
You arched an eyebrow. "Again?"
Steve blinked, suddenly realising what he'd just implied and his cheeks flushed.
"I mean... if you want- not that we have to. Unless..." he stumbled over his words.
Dustin snorted. "Wow. Smooth, Steve."
"Relax, Harrington," you teased affectionately. "We'll talk about baby number two after this one's done using my bladder as a trampoline."
His expression softened, his hands sliding to cradle your bump again just as the baby gave another enthusiastic kick. His smile was stupidly tender, the same way it had been when you'd shown him the positive test or when he'd gotten down on one knee and you'd said yes or when he'd watched you take the stage on your first headlining tour.
You pressed a kiss to his lips, ignoring Dustin making a fake gagging sound behind you. Right now, all you wanted to focus on was Steve and the little miracle growing inside of you.
And maybe some sleep. And a long, warm bath. If your back wasn't screaming in protest, you might have suggested something a bit more fun, but that was a fantasy for another time.
-
Hawkins hadn't changed much over the years. There were still the same old stores along Main Street, same faded mural in the middle of town for the lives lost during the 'earthquake'. The only real difference was the way people looked at you now.
Back in the late '80s, they'd sneered when you walked by, whispering 'murderer' under their breath. Now? Now they smiled and asked for autographs, pretending they hadn't spent years treating you like a pariah.
You didn't hold it against them. Mostly.
Your mansion was a sprawling two-story building tucked into the woods at the edge of town. Tall security fences surrounded the premises, proving safety and privacy that you and Steve both cherished.
Uncle Wayne now had his own house too, no longer slumming it in the trailer park, struggling to pay rent. It was the first thing you did when you got your first big paycheck. Wayne had spent so many years fighting to give you and Eddie a better life and you had been able to return the favour.
The mortgage was paid for despite him insisting that it wasn't necessary but you hadn't missed the tears that glistened in his eyes when you hugged him and handed him the keys.
Inside, your mansion was warm and cozy. Pictures hung on the walls, documenting the years of your new life. Steve's teaching certificate, old newspaper articles from your first sold-out concert next to pictures of you and Steve at the Grammys.
It felt surreal to think that all of this had happened within five years.
The living room had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the woods. It was your favourite spot in the entire house and most of your biggest songs had been written there, fingers flying over the strings of your guitar while Steve sat at the table, grading papers or half-watching basketball with commentary you'd long since learned to tune out.
Currently, you were curled up on the couch, scribbling half formed lyrics when Steve walked into the house, arms filled with grocery bags and diapers.
He took one look at you, hunched over your notebook with a pen in your hand and his eyes instantly narrowed.
"Oh hell no." He shook his head, kicking the door shut behind him. "You just had a baby, like, less than a week ago and you are not supposed to be working right now."
You barely glanced up, tapping your pen against the page as a melody played in your head.
He dropped the groceries onto the counter with a pointed thud.
"Pretty sure the doctor said no strenuous activity and knowing you, you're about five minutes away from grabbing a guitar to test out whatever chaos you're scribbling there."
You paused, looking up to shoot him a half-hearted glare.
He wasn't wrong. Your fingers were itching to pluck the strings of your acoustic and make the melody in your head come to life, but you'd be damned if you admitted it.
Steve crossed the room and plucked the notebook from your hands, tossing it onto the coffee table before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.
"You're relentless," he muttered, voice equal parts exasperated and fond.
You grinned up at him, stretching your arms above your head with a wince, your stitches were still tender.
"What can I say? Inspiration waits for no one. Besides, the baby's finally asleep and I needed something to do besides stare at the walls."
"Y'know, normal people rest in bed after pushing a whole-ass human from their body," he pointed out.
You shot him a look. "Since when have you known me to be normal?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, you should still rest instead of trying to compose a new song with your brain still half-fried from..." He made a vague gesture to your stomach and you swatted his arm.
"That's a low blow, Harrington," you huffed. "My brain is functioning perfectly, thank you."
"Really?" He reached over and gently tugged the pen from your fingers. "Then tell me what day it is."
You opened your mouth and then paused.
"...Tuesday?"
"It's Friday."
"Okay, but in my defense, time doesn't exist with a newborn. It's just one endless cycle of feeding, diapers and trying not to cry when she makes that adorable little baby noise."
Steve's expression softened and he sank onto the couch beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders.
"You're incredible, you know that?"
You snorted. "Because I forgot what day it is?"
"Because you just bought our kid into the world and you're already thinking about your next album." His thumb brushed along your shoulder gently. "But please let yourself rest. The music will still be there when you're healed."
You leaned into him with a sigh, letting your eyes drift shut.
"Fine. But only because you're cute when you're bossy."
"I'll take it," he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.
-
You must have fallen asleep against his chest because the next thing you knew, your eyes were snapping open to the loud ringing of the landline.
Steve swore under his breath, untangling his arms from around you and lunging for the phone before it could wake the baby.
"Hello?" he answered, raising the phone to his ear.
You yawned, running a hand through your tangled hair just as the all too familiar wail of your daughter erupted from the nursey.
"Robin," Steve hissed into the phone, shooting a glare at the receiver like she could see it. "You just woke up the baby."
You chuckled and gingerly stood up from the couch. Steve shot you an apologetic look, but you just shook your head with a small smile.
"Tell Robin I said hi," you murmured, already walking toward the nursery. "And that she owes us for this."
Steve nodded as you disappeared down the hall, listening to him mutter, "Yeah, no, she's fine, just pissed at you- what do you mean 'how do I know?' She literally just said-"
The sound of his bickering faded as you reached the nursery.
Your heart swelled at the sight of your daughter with her tiny fists waving, face scrunched up in outrage at the world's injustices.
"Hey, Edwina," you cooed, scooping her up gently. "Aunt Robin's got terrible timing, huh?"
She sniffled, blinking up at you with Steve's big brown eyes before nestling against your chest, already settling at the sound of your voice. You adjusted her Hellfire onesie, the one the kids – who aren't really kids anymore – had gifted at the baby shower a few weeks ago.
You rocked Edwina gently, humming a soft rendition of 'Sweet Child O' Mine' because your daughter was going to be raised on a steady diet of rock 'n' roll whether she liked it or not.
Her fingers curled around the chain of your necklace, where Eddie's old skull ring hung against your chest.
"Yeah, kid," you whispered, blinking back the sudden wetness in your eyes. "Your Uncle Eddie would've loved you."
You weren't sure how long you stood there, cradling your daughter, caught in memories of the past, when the soft creak of a floorboard interrupted the silence. Steve appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
"Well, Robin sends her love. And she also said she'll bring over those bread sticks you love from Enzo's as an apology-" He cut himself off when he noticed the unshed tears glistening in your eyes. "Whoa, hey, are you okay?"
"Fine. Fine, I'm fine. Just... hormones. They're a real joy," you mumbled, giving him a small, weak smile.
Steve was immediately in front of you, one hand sliding around your waist gently.
"Hey," he whispered, tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "Talk to me."
You huffed a laugh, a stray tear escaping and rolling down your cheek.
"I'm being stupid."
He brushed the tear away with his thumb. "There's nothing stupid about what you're feeling."
"It's just... Ed... Eddie would've loved her. And I- I wish..." You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
Steve pulled you gently against his chest, careful not to squeeze too tight with the baby between you. His chin rested on top of your head as your tears flowed properly now.
"I know," he murmured into your hair. "I wish he could see her too. See you... how amazing you are at this." His hand rubbed slow circles on your back. "But she's gonna know him. Through us, through Wayne, through the stories. Hell, she's already got his taste in music, she calmed down the second you started humming Guns N' Roses, right? Just like she always does."
You laughed wetly against his shoulders, Edwina making a tiny cooing noise as if to agree.
Steve pulled back just enough to wipe your cheeks again, his own eyes suspiciously bright.
"And when she's older, we'll take her to the Hideout. Show her where her Uncle Eddie and Mum ruled the stage as teenagers," he added.
You nodded, swallowing past the lump in your throat as you looked down at your daughter.
The three of you stayed like that for a long moment with his arms wrapped around you both and the baby tucked safely against your chest. He kissed your forehead gently, then Edwina's as a comfortable silence settled over the nursery.
Eventually, he pulled away just enough to meet your eyes.
"Hungry?" he asked softly. "I could reheat that lasagna from Joyce."
You smiled. "That sounds perfect."
You carefully shifted Edwina in your arms and lowered her into the crib. Your hand lingered on the railing watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, making sure she was fully asleep and safe.
Steve gently reached out and took your head, leading you quietly out the nursey. You squeezed his hand as you walked down the hall past the gold records, school awards and framed photos of the chaotic, chosen family that had somehow made it through monsters, heartbreak and Hawkins special brand of small-town drama.
Steve's fingers intertwined with yours as you stepped into the kitchen where half-unpacked groceries still sat on the counter and you smiled at the mundane sight.
He glanced back at you, thumb brushing over your knuckles. "What?"
You shook your head. "Nothing. Just... thinking how strange it is that after everything... this is our life now."
Steve grinned, that same crooked, charming grin that used to make your stomach flip back in high school.
"Yeah, well." He shrugged, his smile softening. "Stranger things have happened, right?"
You chuckled softly, nodding in agreement.
If anyone had told that angry, grieving girl from 1986 that this would be her future?
Well...
You would have laughed in their face.
But here you were, with a life that was everything younger you never dared to dream of.
You weren't just surviving anymore. You were happy. Not the kind of happiness that faded with the sunset, but the deep, steady kind that settled in your bones and stayed. It was the kind of happiness that was worth keeping. The kind worth fighting for. The kind you never thought you'd have.
Hawkins had tried to bury you once.
Now, it was watching you thrive.
-
THE END
-
A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it this far, I know the whole 'marriage and kids' ending isn't everyone's favourite and normally I would steer clear of it, but it felt fitting for this fanfic and I enjoyed writing it.
I have just published my second book: HATE OR FATE by Lucille Burman. It's a zombie apocalypse/enemies to lovers romance and is available for pre-order on Amazon & Kindle Store (link in bio)
My debut novel (published last year) OUTCAST OF SOCIETY was actually inspired by Eddie Munson and is a young adult rockstar romance. So, if you haven't checked it out, it's available on Amazon, Kindle and Kindle Unlimited.
Anyway, I'm sure I'll be back with more fanfics in the near future. But until then, stay safe everyone and have a great day xx
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings- language, grief
Previous Chapter
Chapter 25- Don't Cry
'don't cry tonight
there's a heaven above you, baby'
– Guns N' Roses
Time heals all wounds.
That was what people always said, right?
For so long, you thought that was bullshit.
There was nothing that could heal the grief and pain of losing a loved one. Nothing. But it was 1989, two whole years since Eddie died... and you had to admit, you were wrong.
Time didn't exactly heal all wounds. No. But time had a way of dulling the sharpest edges of grief, turning it into something softer, something you could carry without bleeding out.
You crouched in front of your twin's headstone, tracing the letters of his name with your fingertips. One of the kids had tucked a shiny new D20 against the base, right beside the old flowers you had laid last week.
"Hey, asshole," you greeted, sitting cross-legged in the grass. "I promised I'd play you the album from that new Skid Row band, but I think you'll like this better."
You pulled out your Walkman and hooked the headphones over the top of the gravestone before pressing play, letting your song fill the air.
While the music played, you dusted off the dirt and stray leaves from the top of the granite stone. There hadn't been anymore graffiti or vandalisation since you'd threatened to shoot the jocks who used to do it. Although Dustin still came by frequently with a washcloth just in case.
You replaced the old, withering flowers with a bundle of fresh black roses. Eddie wasn't really a flower person, but you figured he would've liked those ones.
"I, uh, I finished the song. Finally." You huffed a laugh, leaning back on your hands. "Took me long enough, right? You'd have had it done in a week."
The music continued to play softly from the headphones while you talked.
"I played it live at the Hideout last weekend. Steve cried. Like, actually cried. I wish you could've been there."
You sighed and picked up the new dice, twirling it between your fingers.
"The kids graduate today," you continued to say, fiddling with the D20. "Your little sheep are all grown up. They've worked hard. Whatever they do with their lives... they'll be okay. We'll be okay."
A gust of wind sent the dice tumbling from your palm, landing on the grass. A natural 20.
"Cheater," you whispered, smirking at his gravestone.
The song ended and you rewound the tape before playing it again.
The crunch of gravel under tyres made you glance up. A familiar Chevy Blazer rolled to a stop beside your car in the distance. Hopper.
Only in Hawkins could a man come back from the dead and get his old job back.
The Chief stepped out, adjusting his duty belt before slipping on his hat. His beard was gone now, but his signature mustache remained in place. He spotted you across the cemetery and gave you a curt nod before walking toward a different grave.
El's grave.
You quickly looked away, suddenly finding the grass fascinating.
After everything that happened, you avoided Hopper as much as possible. Every time you saw him, all you could picture was Eleven standing on the other side of that gate in the Upside Down... and you were too slow to save her.
The bullet scar ached at the memory. You reached down and pressed your hand against where it sat beneath your leather jacket.
Hopper hadn't blamed you. No one had blamed you. But it didn't matter because you blamed yourself.
El's grave was empty. Her body wasn't in the coffin below, just as Eddie's body wasn't in his. But you both kept visiting the empty graves every single week like clockwork.
"Y/N," he suddenly called out in that no-nonsense tone of his.
You looked up to find him walking across the cemetery toward you, and you slowly stood up to greet him.
"Hey, Chief."
"Did you do that?" he asked, motioning back to his daughter's grave where familiar black roses laid.
"Uh," you hesitated, glancing down at the same roses by Eddie's headstone. Probably no point in lying, he did used to be a big city detective after all. "Yeah, that was me. Sorry. I... I had some spare ones, so I replaced the old-"
"It's okay," he reassured. "Thank you... not just for the flowers."
You looked up at him in confusion.
"Thank you," he repeated. "For trying to save her. I... I, uh, I don't think I ever did thank you for it."
He didn't say her name, he couldn't, but he didn't have to.
"I'm sorry I failed," you replied quietly.
He shook his head firmly. "Kid, you took a goddamn bullet trying. That's not failing. That's nearly dying."
You bit your lip and looked away.
It didn't matter that you nearly died. You still couldn't save her, just like you couldn't save Eddie.
"It ain't on you, Y/N. What happened to her and... and Eddie. None of that is on you," Hopper continued to say and you realised you must have spoken your thoughts out loud.
His hand clapped down heavily on your shoulder. You glanced back at him, but he was now staring up at the Walkman by Eddie's grave.
If anyone understood, it was him. He knew what it was like to hate the world for spinning when someone you loved was gone. He already lived through it once with his first daughter and now he was living through it again with El.
"By the way, I'm sick of hearing your song," he suddenly said.
The abrupt change in topic made you pause, your brain struggling to process what he had just admitted before you let out a surprised burst of laughter.
"Callahan and Powell bought the cassette. They keep playing it back at the station and now it's on the damn radio too... Christ." He rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head. "I can't get away from it."
You chuckled softly. "Not my fault your deputies have good taste."
"Well, I don't need to hear it 20 times a day."
"Yeah, that's fair enough."
After a moment Hopper checked his watch and sighed.
"Gotta get to the school. Joyce's got me on 'crowd control' for graduation." He made air quotes with his fingers, rolling his eyes. "Like I'm not just gonna stand there eating stale donuts while she does all the work."
You smirked. "I'll see you there, Chief."
He nodded, walking away and you sank back onto the grass in front of Eddie's grave.
"Hear that, Eds?" you whispered, leaning back on your elbows. "Chief hates my music. You'd probably think that's hilarious."
You took a slow breath, tilting your head back. The sun was high in the sky now, you probably should get going if you didn't want to be late.
A few minutes of silence past before you turned the Walkman off and unhooked the headphones from around the headstone, slipping them back around your neck.
"See you later, bro," you whispered, pressing a kiss to your fingers and brushing them against his name. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."
-
The graduation ceremony was in full swing.
The high school field was packed with families and friends, the scent of fresh-cut grass mingling with the occasional whiff of cheap perfume that made you want to gag.
Steve looked unfairly handsome in his grey suit, though his tie was already loosened halfway down his chest like he'd been fidgeting with it. His hand was wrapped around yours in your lap, his thumb gently brushing over your engagement ring.
The kids were a sea of orange gowns in the front rows, their excitement bubbling over as they bounced in their seats, tassels swinging wildly from their caps.
Steve pressed a tender kiss to your temple and you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. The sun beamed down on your face from above. It was a perfect summers day for this celebration.
The Wheeler family sat in the row in front of you, Derek Turnbow seated beside Holly. He had turned around in his seat earlier holding out a permanent marker and your cassette tape, asking if you could sign it.
Steve had smiled proudly but you hesitated, shocked that someone wanted your autograph. Your song hadn't even been out for long and people were already listening to it and buying copies. It was unbelievable.
Derek practically squealed in excitement when you signed and personalised the tape for him.
'Delightful Derek,
Keep on rocking!'
*your signature*
"Knew you'd be famous," Steve murmured, against your skin, his breath warm as he kissed your cheek. "You clean up nice too."
You rolled your eyes, adjusting your 'good' leather jacket which was just the one that only had minor scuffs and all its zippers intact.
"You don't look so bad yourself, Harrington," you whispered back, smoothing the collar of his suit. "And I'm not famous."
"You will be," he replied without hesitation, like he somehow just knew that your music career would take off.
Principal Higgins cleared his throat at the podium before you could respond.
"And now it's my great pleasure to introduce someone who has truly excelled during their time here. Ladies and gentlemen, give a warm welcome for your valedictorian, Dustin Henderson."
Steve let out a loud, embarrassingly paternal whoop as he shot to his feet and clapped. You joined in whistling and clapping just as loud while Ms. Henderson cried happily a few rows down.
Dustin strode confidently to the podium, dark curls bouncing beneath his cap. You and Steve sat back down, his hand finding yours instantly as Dustin reached the microphone.
"I just wanted a normal childhood. But that childhood was stolen from me. It was stolen from us. And this past year, if you wanna know the truth, I've been pretty pissed off about it. But then I thought back to the past six years and I realised that, even though there was a lot of bad, there was so much good too. There's this game I like to play. It's called Dungeons & Dragons."
A few of the boys cheered at the mention of their favourite game but you didn't miss Hopper's muttered, "Jesus Christ," from somewhere behind you.
"And in this game, there are two types of chaos classes, chaotic good and chaotic bad. Now, bad chaos brings anarchy, destruction, war. But good chaos can bring innovation, change. And this school, frankly, it needed to change. Because we were so divided into the jocks, the nerds, freaks. And in the chaos, all those walls broke down, and I made new friends. I made friends who were never even supposed to be my friends."
Dustin's eyes landed squarely on Steve. His breath hitched from beside you and you squeezed his hand gently. Without even looking you knew his eyes were glistening.
"When you get to know people who are different from you, you begin to learn more about yourself. You change. You grow. I'm a better person now. I'm a better person because of them, because of my friends. So, I'm not pissed off anymore," Dustin continued to say, his gaze scanning the crowd. "But I am worried. Worried because now that the chaos is over, Principal Higgins and every square like him is gonna do their damnedest to put everything back in order."
The crowd gasped at his words, but a grin began to spread across your face. It was more than just pride. In that moment, in the fearless way Dustin spoke his mind with the spark of rebellion in his eyes... it reminded you of Eddie.
-
*Hawkins High 1986*
You promised yourself that you'd never set foot back in this school. It had been over a year since you graduated and you hated this place with a burning passion, but... you hated washing dishes for minimum wage without your music more.
And your stupid brother had taken your Walkman to class instead of his own.
So, here you were.
A few jocks threw you disgusted glares as you strode past, but you ignored them just as you had done when you were a fellow student behind these walls. The cafeteria was filled with chatter and laughter as you entered, and it wasn't hard to find Eddie.
The Hellfire Club sat at their usual table by the window. You marched straight over to them, not bothering to announce your arrival. Instead, you planted yourself squarely on the edge of the bench between Eddie and Gareth, making the table shudder and Jeff's juice slosh dangerously.
"Jesus H Christ!" Eddie yelped, nearly tipping his chair backwards at your sudden appearance.
Gareth let out an amused snort and quickly scooted over to make room for you. You shot the drummer a grateful smile before focusing back on your brother with a glare.
"Where is it?"
"Where's what?" he asked innocently.
"Don't play dumb with me, Eds. You took my Walkman this morning instead of your shitty one."
He gasped dramatically. "I would never."
"Liar."
Around you, the rest of Hellfire watched in amusement as you and Eddie argued.
You leaned into his personal space, fixing him with a glare that would make any lesser man back away. But Eddie was used to it by now and didn't so much as flinch as you got right in his face.
"Where. Is. My. Walkman?" you ground out, enunciating each word like he was particularly stupid.
He held your gaze for exactly five seconds before his lips twitched, cracking into a shit-eating grin.
Without waiting for a response, you reached into the pocket of his battle vest and pulled out our Walkman, the familiar scuff marks from when you'd thrown it at him last month clearly visible on the casing.
"A search? Without a warrant? This is police brutality!" Eddie declared, loud enough for nearby tables to glance over.
Gareth snorted into his lunch tray while the others tried to muffle their laughter with their hands.
You clipped the Walkman to your belt and slid the headphones around your neck where they belonged, but before you could leave, Eddie snagged the back of your shirt.
"Oh no you don't," he said, tugging you back down onto the table. "You owe me for theft of personal property."
"It's my Walkman, you idiot."
"But it is my Maiden tape in there."
You froze, your eyes narrowing before you popped open the Walkman's tape compartment.
Sure enough, Iron Maiden's Piece of Mind stared back at you instead of Metallica's Ride the Lightning.
"Edward Munson," you said slowly, voice dangerously calm.
"Oh shit."
"He's so dead."
"Nice knowing ya, man," the others all mumbled in the background.
"Where is my favourite tape?" you questioned.
He shrugged. "Dunno."
"Check his lunchbox!" Dustin piped up.
Eddie's head snapped toward the kid. "Henderson, you traitor!"
You snatched the metal lunchbox from the table beside you before he could hide it. You flipped it open to reveal your beloved Metallica tape nestled neatly between a bag of weed and a half-eaten sandwich.
"Soooo," Gareth began to say, dragging out the word as he leaned back in his chair, sensing you were about to explode at Eddie. "Corroded Coffin practice tonight at mine. Dad said we can use the garage until eight. What time do you finish work, Y/N?"
Your fingers closed around the tape, shooting your twin a glare that promised retribution later.
"Five-thirty," you replied, shoving the tape back into your Walkman with a satisfying click. "I'll be there for rehearsal."
"When are you guys gonna perform somewhere other than the Hideout? That place is lame," Mike spoke up from across the table.
"One day we'll move to Los Angeles and conquer the Sunset Strip," you announced, smiling at the thought of the future. "We'll sell out the Whisky a Go Go, the Roxy, the Starwood, you name it. But until these dorks finish school... we're stuck with the Hideout."
"That's gonna take so long though," Dustin complained. "You guys should be playing for crowds now."
Eddie suddenly jumped to his feet, his chair scraping loudly in pure chaotic fashion. All eyes shifted to your brother, and you arched an eyebrow knowing whatever he was about to say was going to be good.
"Jeff graduates this year," he began, pointing to the bassist. "Gareth's got, what? A year and a half? Me, I am army-crawling my way through a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final... I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma, and I'm gonna run like hell outta here."
Dustin and Mike both chuckled, their eyes glued to Eddie like he was the only person in the cafeteria.
"Didn't you say that last year?" Gareth questioned smugly.
"And the year before that?" Jeff added.
"Yeah, yeah, and I was full of shit!" he replied, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "This year's different, I can feel it. This year... is my year. '86 baby!"
You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to speak, but your brother wasn't done yet.
"You know what that means?" Eddie turned to Dustin and Mike. "It means Corroded Coffin is about to leave Hawkins and you boys... you boys are the future of Hellfire."
You slid off the table to make your exit, knowing they were about to nerd out with D&D talk. You ruffled Eddie's already wild hair as you passed.
"Love you, asshole," you called over your shoulder.
"Love you too! " Eddie yelled back, flipping you off as you strolled out the cafeteria to the sound of the Hellfire Club's laughter.
-
*Hawkins High 1989*
Dustin's voice brought you back to the present as he continued his speech behind the podium.
"And I don't want order, which is why it's pretty hypocritical that I'm even wearing this thing. I mean, we look ridiculous. What is this? We look like Roman senators. I mean, it's not who I am. I don't think it's who any of us are. So honestly, just screw it."
He ripped off his graduation gown in one smooth motion, revealing the familiar logo of the Hellfire Club.
The crowd began to cheer and a small smirk spread across your face knowing he had planned this all along.
Principle Higgins rushed across the stage, trying to stop Dustin, but the kid just grabbed the microphone from the podium and moved away, still talking.
"Screw this school. Screw the system. Screw conformity. Screw everyone and everything trying to hold you back and tear us apart, because this, this is our year!"
Your breath hitched at the familiar words, Eddie's own voice echoing through your ears.
Steve was the first one to stand, clapping so hard his hands had to be stinging.
Then, the crowd erupted. The graduating class surged to their feet cheering and clapping, but your eyes stayed locked on Dustin.
He snatched his diploma from Principal Higgins, who looked seconds away from combusting, and without hesitation, flipped him the bird with a wide grin.
...Just like Eddie wanted to do.
Dustin turned to face the crowd, throwing his hands in the air as everyone cheered and screamed louder.
A wet laugh escaped your lips as you fought back tears rapidly rising in your eyes.
The lump in your throat threatened to choke you as Dustin's gaze shifted over the crowd before locking onto you. His grin was all mischief, all Eddie, and he raised his diploma higher as if to say, 'this one's for him'.
Steve noticed your emotions and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. His chin rested against the top of your head, tucking you gently against his chest.
The crowd roared around you, confetti shooting into the air and drifting over the students as they celebrated.
You buried your face into Steve's suit, laughing and crying all at once. You didn't even try to stop the tears from spilling, because Dustin Henderson had just given Eddie the graduation day he'd never gotten.
"You okay?" Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair.
"Yeah, I am," you replied, and you meant it.
Eddie might not be here, not in the way you wanted him to be, but he wasn't gone. Not really.
Eddie Munson's spirit was alive in every laugh, every reckless decision, every raised middle finger to the people who'd never understood the misfits and outcasts.
Some people never really died, nor did their legacy.
Not if you remembered them.
Not if you kept playing their song...
... and you always would.
-
The End ??
A/N: I'm thinking about adding a bonus *5 Years Later* final chapter, so... this might not be the end.
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings- language, grief
Previous Chapter
Chapter 25- Don't Cry
'don't cry tonight
there's a heaven above you, baby'
– Guns N' Roses
Time heals all wounds.
That was what people always said, right?
For so long, you thought that was bullshit.
There was nothing that could heal the grief and pain of losing a loved one. Nothing. But it was 1989, two whole years since Eddie died... and you had to admit, you were wrong.
Time didn't exactly heal all wounds. No. But time had a way of dulling the sharpest edges of grief, turning it into something softer, something you could carry without bleeding out.
You crouched in front of your twin's headstone, tracing the letters of his name with your fingertips. One of the kids had tucked a shiny new D20 against the base, right beside the old flowers you had laid last week.
"Hey, asshole," you greeted, sitting cross-legged in the grass. "I promised I'd play you the album from that new Skid Row band, but I think you'll like this better."
You pulled out your Walkman and hooked the headphones over the top of the gravestone before pressing play, letting your song fill the air.
While the music played, you dusted off the dirt and stray leaves from the top of the granite stone. There hadn't been anymore graffiti or vandalisation since you'd threatened to shoot the jocks who used to do it. Although Dustin still came by frequently with a washcloth just in case.
You replaced the old, withering flowers with a bundle of fresh black roses. Eddie wasn't really a flower person, but you figured he would've liked those ones.
"I, uh, I finished the song. Finally." You huffed a laugh, leaning back on your hands. "Took me long enough, right? You'd have had it done in a week."
The music continued to play softly from the headphones while you talked.
"I played it live at the Hideout last weekend. Steve cried. Like, actually cried. I wish you could've been there."
You sighed and picked up the new dice, twirling it between your fingers.
"The kids graduate today," you continued to say, fiddling with the D20. "Your little sheep are all grown up. They've worked hard. Whatever they do with their lives... they'll be okay. We'll be okay."
A gust of wind sent the dice tumbling from your palm, landing on the grass. A natural 20.
"Cheater," you whispered, smirking at his gravestone.
The song ended and you rewound the tape before playing it again.
The crunch of gravel under tyres made you glance up. A familiar Chevy Blazer rolled to a stop beside your car in the distance. Hopper.
Only in Hawkins could a man come back from the dead and get his old job back.
The Chief stepped out, adjusting his duty belt before slipping on his hat. His beard was gone now, but his signature mustache remained in place. He spotted you across the cemetery and gave you a curt nod before walking toward a different grave.
El's grave.
You quickly looked away, suddenly finding the grass fascinating.
After everything that happened, you avoided Hopper as much as possible. Every time you saw him, all you could picture was Eleven standing on the other side of that gate in the Upside Down... and you were too slow to save her.
The bullet scar ached at the memory. You reached down and pressed your hand against where it sat beneath your leather jacket.
Hopper hadn't blamed you. No one had blamed you. But it didn't matter because you blamed yourself.
El's grave was empty. Her body wasn't in the coffin below, just as Eddie's body wasn't in his. But you both kept visiting the empty graves every single week like clockwork.
"Y/N," he suddenly called out in that no-nonsense tone of his.
You looked up to find him walking across the cemetery toward you, and you slowly stood up to greet him.
"Hey, Chief."
"Did you do that?" he asked, motioning back to his daughter's grave where familiar black roses laid.
"Uh," you hesitated, glancing down at the same roses by Eddie's headstone. Probably no point in lying, he did used to be a big city detective after all. "Yeah, that was me. Sorry. I... I had some spare ones, so I replaced the old-"
"It's okay," he reassured. "Thank you... not just for the flowers."
You looked up at him in confusion.
"Thank you," he repeated. "For trying to save her. I... I, uh, I don't think I ever did thank you for it."
He didn't say her name, he couldn't, but he didn't have to.
"I'm sorry I failed," you replied quietly.
He shook his head firmly. "Kid, you took a goddamn bullet trying. That's not failing. That's nearly dying."
You bit your lip and looked away.
It didn't matter that you nearly died. You still couldn't save her, just like you couldn't save Eddie.
"It ain't on you, Y/N. What happened to her and... and Eddie. None of that is on you," Hopper continued to say and you realised you must have spoken your thoughts out loud.
His hand clapped down heavily on your shoulder. You glanced back at him, but he was now staring up at the Walkman by Eddie's grave.
If anyone understood, it was him. He knew what it was like to hate the world for spinning when someone you loved was gone. He already lived through it once with his first daughter and now he was living through it again with El.
"By the way, I'm sick of hearing your song," he suddenly said.
The abrupt change in topic made you pause, your brain struggling to process what he had just admitted before you let out a surprised burst of laughter.
"Callahan and Powell bought the cassette. They keep playing it back at the station and now it's on the damn radio too... Christ." He rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head. "I can't get away from it."
You chuckled softly. "Not my fault your deputies have good taste."
"Well, I don't need to hear it 20 times a day."
"Yeah, that's fair enough."
After a moment Hopper checked his watch and sighed.
"Gotta get to the school. Joyce's got me on 'crowd control' for graduation." He made air quotes with his fingers, rolling his eyes. "Like I'm not just gonna stand there eating stale donuts while she does all the work."
You smirked. "I'll see you there, Chief."
He nodded, walking away and you sank back onto the grass in front of Eddie's grave.
"Hear that, Eds?" you whispered, leaning back on your elbows. "Chief hates my music. You'd probably think that's hilarious."
You took a slow breath, tilting your head back. The sun was high in the sky now, you probably should get going if you didn't want to be late.
A few minutes of silence past before you turned the Walkman off and unhooked the headphones from around the headstone, slipping them back around your neck.
"See you later, bro," you whispered, pressing a kiss to your fingers and brushing them against his name. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."
-
The graduation ceremony was in full swing.
The high school field was packed with families and friends, the scent of fresh-cut grass mingling with the occasional whiff of cheap perfume that made you want to gag.
Steve looked unfairly handsome in his grey suit, though his tie was already loosened halfway down his chest like he'd been fidgeting with it. His hand was wrapped around yours in your lap, his thumb gently brushing over your engagement ring.
The kids were a sea of orange gowns in the front rows, their excitement bubbling over as they bounced in their seats, tassels swinging wildly from their caps.
Steve pressed a tender kiss to your temple and you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. The sun beamed down on your face from above. It was a perfect summers day for this celebration.
The Wheeler family sat in the row in front of you, Derek Turnbow seated beside Holly. He had turned around in his seat earlier holding out a permanent marker and your cassette tape, asking if you could sign it.
Steve had smiled proudly but you hesitated, shocked that someone wanted your autograph. Your song hadn't even been out for long and people were already listening to it and buying copies. It was unbelievable.
Derek practically squealed in excitement when you signed and personalised the tape for him.
'Delightful Derek,
Keep on rocking!'
*your signature*
"Knew you'd be famous," Steve murmured, against your skin, his breath warm as he kissed your cheek. "You clean up nice too."
You rolled your eyes, adjusting your 'good' leather jacket which was just the one that only had minor scuffs and all its zippers intact.
"You don't look so bad yourself, Harrington," you whispered back, smoothing the collar of his suit. "And I'm not famous."
"You will be," he replied without hesitation, like he somehow just knew that your music career would take off.
Principal Higgins cleared his throat at the podium before you could respond.
"And now it's my great pleasure to introduce someone who has truly excelled during their time here. Ladies and gentlemen, give a warm welcome for your valedictorian, Dustin Henderson."
Steve let out a loud, embarrassingly paternal whoop as he shot to his feet and clapped. You joined in whistling and clapping just as loud while Ms. Henderson cried happily a few rows down.
Dustin strode confidently to the podium, dark curls bouncing beneath his cap. You and Steve sat back down, his hand finding yours instantly as Dustin reached the microphone.
"I just wanted a normal childhood. But that childhood was stolen from me. It was stolen from us. And this past year, if you wanna know the truth, I've been pretty pissed off about it. But then I thought back to the past six years and I realised that, even though there was a lot of bad, there was so much good too. There's this game I like to play. It's called Dungeons & Dragons."
A few of the boys cheered at the mention of their favourite game but you didn't miss Hopper's muttered, "Jesus Christ," from somewhere behind you.
"And in this game, there are two types of chaos classes, chaotic good and chaotic bad. Now, bad chaos brings anarchy, destruction, war. But good chaos can bring innovation, change. And this school, frankly, it needed to change. Because we were so divided into the jocks, the nerds, freaks. And in the chaos, all those walls broke down, and I made new friends. I made friends who were never even supposed to be my friends."
Dustin's eyes landed squarely on Steve. His breath hitched from beside you and you squeezed his hand gently. Without even looking you knew his eyes were glistening.
"When you get to know people who are different from you, you begin to learn more about yourself. You change. You grow. I'm a better person now. I'm a better person because of them, because of my friends. So, I'm not pissed off anymore," Dustin continued to say, his gaze scanning the crowd. "But I am worried. Worried because now that the chaos is over, Principal Higgins and every square like him is gonna do their damnedest to put everything back in order."
The crowd gasped at his words, but a grin began to spread across your face. It was more than just pride. In that moment, in the fearless way Dustin spoke his mind with the spark of rebellion in his eyes... it reminded you of Eddie.
-
*Hawkins High 1986*
You promised yourself that you'd never set foot back in this school. It had been over a year since you graduated and you hated this place with a burning passion, but... you hated washing dishes for minimum wage without your music more.
And your stupid brother had taken your Walkman to class instead of his own.
So, here you were.
A few jocks threw you disgusted glares as you strode past, but you ignored them just as you had done when you were a fellow student behind these walls. The cafeteria was filled with chatter and laughter as you entered, and it wasn't hard to find Eddie.
The Hellfire Club sat at their usual table by the window. You marched straight over to them, not bothering to announce your arrival. Instead, you planted yourself squarely on the edge of the bench between Eddie and Gareth, making the table shudder and Jeff's juice slosh dangerously.
"Jesus H Christ!" Eddie yelped, nearly tipping his chair backwards at your sudden appearance.
Gareth let out an amused snort and quickly scooted over to make room for you. You shot the drummer a grateful smile before focusing back on your brother with a glare.
"Where is it?"
"Where's what?" he asked innocently.
"Don't play dumb with me, Eds. You took my Walkman this morning instead of your shitty one."
He gasped dramatically. "I would never."
"Liar."
Around you, the rest of Hellfire watched in amusement as you and Eddie argued.
You leaned into his personal space, fixing him with a glare that would make any lesser man back away. But Eddie was used to it by now and didn't so much as flinch as you got right in his face.
"Where. Is. My. Walkman?" you ground out, enunciating each word like he was particularly stupid.
He held your gaze for exactly five seconds before his lips twitched, cracking into a shit-eating grin.
Without waiting for a response, you reached into the pocket of his battle vest and pulled out our Walkman, the familiar scuff marks from when you'd thrown it at him last month clearly visible on the casing.
"A search? Without a warrant? This is police brutality!" Eddie declared, loud enough for nearby tables to glance over.
Gareth snorted into his lunch tray while the others tried to muffle their laughter with their hands.
You clipped the Walkman to your belt and slid the headphones around your neck where they belonged, but before you could leave, Eddie snagged the back of your shirt.
"Oh no you don't," he said, tugging you back down onto the table. "You owe me for theft of personal property."
"It's my Walkman, you idiot."
"But it is my Maiden tape in there."
You froze, your eyes narrowing before you popped open the Walkman's tape compartment.
Sure enough, Iron Maiden's Piece of Mind stared back at you instead of Metallica's Ride the Lightning.
"Edward Munson," you said slowly, voice dangerously calm.
"Oh shit."
"He's so dead."
"Nice knowing ya, man," the others all mumbled in the background.
"Where is my favourite tape?" you questioned.
He shrugged. "Dunno."
"Check his lunchbox!" Dustin piped up.
Eddie's head snapped toward the kid. "Henderson, you traitor!"
You snatched the metal lunchbox from the table beside you before he could hide it. You flipped it open to reveal your beloved Metallica tape nestled neatly between a bag of weed and a half-eaten sandwich.
"Soooo," Gareth began to say, dragging out the word as he leaned back in his chair, sensing you were about to explode at Eddie. "Corroded Coffin practice tonight at mine. Dad said we can use the garage until eight. What time do you finish work, Y/N?"
Your fingers closed around the tape, shooting your twin a glare that promised retribution later.
"Five-thirty," you replied, shoving the tape back into your Walkman with a satisfying click. "I'll be there for rehearsal."
"When are you guys gonna perform somewhere other than the Hideout? That place is lame," Mike spoke up from across the table.
"One day we'll move to Los Angeles and conquer the Sunset Strip," you announced, smiling at the thought of the future. "We'll sell out the Whisky a Go Go, the Roxy, the Starwood, you name it. But until these dorks finish school... we're stuck with the Hideout."
"That's gonna take so long though," Dustin complained. "You guys should be playing for crowds now."
Eddie suddenly jumped to his feet, his chair scraping loudly in pure chaotic fashion. All eyes shifted to your brother, and you arched an eyebrow knowing whatever he was about to say was going to be good.
"Jeff graduates this year," he began, pointing to the bassist. "Gareth's got, what? A year and a half? Me, I am army-crawling my way through a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final... I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma, and I'm gonna run like hell outta here."
Dustin and Mike both chuckled, their eyes glued to Eddie like he was the only person in the cafeteria.
"Didn't you say that last year?" Gareth questioned smugly.
"And the year before that?" Jeff added.
"Yeah, yeah, and I was full of shit!" he replied, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "This year's different, I can feel it. This year... is my year. '86 baby!"
You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to speak, but your brother wasn't done yet.
"You know what that means?" Eddie turned to Dustin and Mike. "It means Corroded Coffin is about to leave Hawkins and you boys... you boys are the future of Hellfire."
You slid off the table to make your exit, knowing they were about to nerd out with D&D talk. You ruffled Eddie's already wild hair as you passed.
"Love you, asshole," you called over your shoulder.
"Love you too! " Eddie yelled back, flipping you off as you strolled out the cafeteria to the sound of the Hellfire Club's laughter.
-
*Hawkins High 1989*
Dustin's voice brought you back to the present as he continued his speech behind the podium.
"And I don't want order, which is why it's pretty hypocritical that I'm even wearing this thing. I mean, we look ridiculous. What is this? We look like Roman senators. I mean, it's not who I am. I don't think it's who any of us are. So honestly, just screw it."
He ripped off his graduation gown in one smooth motion, revealing the familiar logo of the Hellfire Club.
The crowd began to cheer and a small smirk spread across your face knowing he had planned this all along.
Principle Higgins rushed across the stage, trying to stop Dustin, but the kid just grabbed the microphone from the podium and moved away, still talking.
"Screw this school. Screw the system. Screw conformity. Screw everyone and everything trying to hold you back and tear us apart, because this, this is our year!"
Your breath hitched at the familiar words, Eddie's own voice echoing through your ears.
Steve was the first one to stand, clapping so hard his hands had to be stinging.
Then, the crowd erupted. The graduating class surged to their feet cheering and clapping, but your eyes stayed locked on Dustin.
He snatched his diploma from Principal Higgins, who looked seconds away from combusting, and without hesitation, flipped him the bird with a wide grin.
...Just like Eddie wanted to do.
Dustin turned to face the crowd, throwing his hands in the air as everyone cheered and screamed louder.
A wet laugh escaped your lips as you fought back tears rapidly rising in your eyes.
The lump in your throat threatened to choke you as Dustin's gaze shifted over the crowd before locking onto you. His grin was all mischief, all Eddie, and he raised his diploma higher as if to say, 'this one's for him'.
Steve noticed your emotions and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. His chin rested against the top of your head, tucking you gently against his chest.
The crowd roared around you, confetti shooting into the air and drifting over the students as they celebrated.
You buried your face into Steve's suit, laughing and crying all at once. You didn't even try to stop the tears from spilling, because Dustin Henderson had just given Eddie the graduation day he'd never gotten.
"You okay?" Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair.
"Yeah, I am," you replied, and you meant it.
Eddie might not be here, not in the way you wanted him to be, but he wasn't gone. Not really.
Eddie Munson's spirit was alive in every laugh, every reckless decision, every raised middle finger to the people who'd never understood the misfits and outcasts.
Some people never really died, nor did their legacy.
Not if you remembered them.
Not if you kept playing their song...
... and you always would.
-
The End ??
A/N: I'm thinking about adding a bonus *5 Years Later* final chapter, so... this might not be the end.
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings- language, grief
Previous Chapter
Chapter 25- Don't Cry
'don't cry tonight
there's a heaven above you, baby'
– Guns N' Roses
Time heals all wounds.
That was what people always said, right?
For so long, you thought that was bullshit.
There was nothing that could heal the grief and pain of losing a loved one. Nothing. But it was 1989, two whole years since Eddie died... and you had to admit, you were wrong.
Time didn't exactly heal all wounds. No. But time had a way of dulling the sharpest edges of grief, turning it into something softer, something you could carry without bleeding out.
You crouched in front of your twin's headstone, tracing the letters of his name with your fingertips. One of the kids had tucked a shiny new D20 against the base, right beside the old flowers you had laid last week.
"Hey, asshole," you greeted, sitting cross-legged in the grass. "I promised I'd play you the album from that new Skid Row band, but I think you'll like this better."
You pulled out your Walkman and hooked the headphones over the top of the gravestone before pressing play, letting your song fill the air.
While the music played, you dusted off the dirt and stray leaves from the top of the granite stone. There hadn't been anymore graffiti or vandalisation since you'd threatened to shoot the jocks who used to do it. Although Dustin still came by frequently with a washcloth just in case.
You replaced the old, withering flowers with a bundle of fresh black roses. Eddie wasn't really a flower person, but you figured he would've liked those ones.
"I, uh, I finished the song. Finally." You huffed a laugh, leaning back on your hands. "Took me long enough, right? You'd have had it done in a week."
The music continued to play softly from the headphones while you talked.
"I played it live at the Hideout last weekend. Steve cried. Like, actually cried. I wish you could've been there."
You sighed and picked up the new dice, twirling it between your fingers.
"The kids graduate today," you continued to say, fiddling with the D20. "Your little sheep are all grown up. They've worked hard. Whatever they do with their lives... they'll be okay. We'll be okay."
A gust of wind sent the dice tumbling from your palm, landing on the grass. A natural 20.
"Cheater," you whispered, smirking at his gravestone.
The song ended and you rewound the tape before playing it again.
The crunch of gravel under tyres made you glance up. A familiar Chevy Blazer rolled to a stop beside your car in the distance. Hopper.
Only in Hawkins could a man come back from the dead and get his old job back.
The Chief stepped out, adjusting his duty belt before slipping on his hat. His beard was gone now, but his signature mustache remained in place. He spotted you across the cemetery and gave you a curt nod before walking toward a different grave.
El's grave.
You quickly looked away, suddenly finding the grass fascinating.
After everything that happened, you avoided Hopper as much as possible. Every time you saw him, all you could picture was Eleven standing on the other side of that gate in the Upside Down... and you were too slow to save her.
The bullet scar ached at the memory. You reached down and pressed your hand against where it sat beneath your leather jacket.
Hopper hadn't blamed you. No one had blamed you. But it didn't matter because you blamed yourself.
El's grave was empty. Her body wasn't in the coffin below, just as Eddie's body wasn't in his. But you both kept visiting the empty graves every single week like clockwork.
"Y/N," he suddenly called out in that no-nonsense tone of his.
You looked up to find him walking across the cemetery toward you, and you slowly stood up to greet him.
"Hey, Chief."
"Did you do that?" he asked, motioning back to his daughter's grave where familiar black roses laid.
"Uh," you hesitated, glancing down at the same roses by Eddie's headstone. Probably no point in lying, he did used to be a big city detective after all. "Yeah, that was me. Sorry. I... I had some spare ones, so I replaced the old-"
"It's okay," he reassured. "Thank you... not just for the flowers."
You looked up at him in confusion.
"Thank you," he repeated. "For trying to save her. I... I, uh, I don't think I ever did thank you for it."
He didn't say her name, he couldn't, but he didn't have to.
"I'm sorry I failed," you replied quietly.
He shook his head firmly. "Kid, you took a goddamn bullet trying. That's not failing. That's nearly dying."
You bit your lip and looked away.
It didn't matter that you nearly died. You still couldn't save her, just like you couldn't save Eddie.
"It ain't on you, Y/N. What happened to her and... and Eddie. None of that is on you," Hopper continued to say and you realised you must have spoken your thoughts out loud.
His hand clapped down heavily on your shoulder. You glanced back at him, but he was now staring up at the Walkman by Eddie's grave.
If anyone understood, it was him. He knew what it was like to hate the world for spinning when someone you loved was gone. He already lived through it once with his first daughter and now he was living through it again with El.
"By the way, I'm sick of hearing your song," he suddenly said.
The abrupt change in topic made you pause, your brain struggling to process what he had just admitted before you let out a surprised burst of laughter.
"Callahan and Powell bought the cassette. They keep playing it back at the station and now it's on the damn radio too... Christ." He rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head. "I can't get away from it."
You chuckled softly. "Not my fault your deputies have good taste."
"Well, I don't need to hear it 20 times a day."
"Yeah, that's fair enough."
After a moment Hopper checked his watch and sighed.
"Gotta get to the school. Joyce's got me on 'crowd control' for graduation." He made air quotes with his fingers, rolling his eyes. "Like I'm not just gonna stand there eating stale donuts while she does all the work."
You smirked. "I'll see you there, Chief."
He nodded, walking away and you sank back onto the grass in front of Eddie's grave.
"Hear that, Eds?" you whispered, leaning back on your elbows. "Chief hates my music. You'd probably think that's hilarious."
You took a slow breath, tilting your head back. The sun was high in the sky now, you probably should get going if you didn't want to be late.
A few minutes of silence past before you turned the Walkman off and unhooked the headphones from around the headstone, slipping them back around your neck.
"See you later, bro," you whispered, pressing a kiss to your fingers and brushing them against his name. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."
-
The graduation ceremony was in full swing.
The high school field was packed with families and friends, the scent of fresh-cut grass mingling with the occasional whiff of cheap perfume that made you want to gag.
Steve looked unfairly handsome in his grey suit, though his tie was already loosened halfway down his chest like he'd been fidgeting with it. His hand was wrapped around yours in your lap, his thumb gently brushing over your engagement ring.
The kids were a sea of orange gowns in the front rows, their excitement bubbling over as they bounced in their seats, tassels swinging wildly from their caps.
Steve pressed a tender kiss to your temple and you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. The sun beamed down on your face from above. It was a perfect summers day for this celebration.
The Wheeler family sat in the row in front of you, Derek Turnbow seated beside Holly. He had turned around in his seat earlier holding out a permanent marker and your cassette tape, asking if you could sign it.
Steve had smiled proudly but you hesitated, shocked that someone wanted your autograph. Your song hadn't even been out for long and people were already listening to it and buying copies. It was unbelievable.
Derek practically squealed in excitement when you signed and personalised the tape for him.
'Delightful Derek,
Keep on rocking!'
*your signature*
"Knew you'd be famous," Steve murmured, against your skin, his breath warm as he kissed your cheek. "You clean up nice too."
You rolled your eyes, adjusting your 'good' leather jacket which was just the one that only had minor scuffs and all its zippers intact.
"You don't look so bad yourself, Harrington," you whispered back, smoothing the collar of his suit. "And I'm not famous."
"You will be," he replied without hesitation, like he somehow just knew that your music career would take off.
Principal Higgins cleared his throat at the podium before you could respond.
"And now it's my great pleasure to introduce someone who has truly excelled during their time here. Ladies and gentlemen, give a warm welcome for your valedictorian, Dustin Henderson."
Steve let out a loud, embarrassingly paternal whoop as he shot to his feet and clapped. You joined in whistling and clapping just as loud while Ms. Henderson cried happily a few rows down.
Dustin strode confidently to the podium, dark curls bouncing beneath his cap. You and Steve sat back down, his hand finding yours instantly as Dustin reached the microphone.
"I just wanted a normal childhood. But that childhood was stolen from me. It was stolen from us. And this past year, if you wanna know the truth, I've been pretty pissed off about it. But then I thought back to the past six years and I realised that, even though there was a lot of bad, there was so much good too. There's this game I like to play. It's called Dungeons & Dragons."
A few of the boys cheered at the mention of their favourite game but you didn't miss Hopper's muttered, "Jesus Christ," from somewhere behind you.
"And in this game, there are two types of chaos classes, chaotic good and chaotic bad. Now, bad chaos brings anarchy, destruction, war. But good chaos can bring innovation, change. And this school, frankly, it needed to change. Because we were so divided into the jocks, the nerds, freaks. And in the chaos, all those walls broke down, and I made new friends. I made friends who were never even supposed to be my friends."
Dustin's eyes landed squarely on Steve. His breath hitched from beside you and you squeezed his hand gently. Without even looking you knew his eyes were glistening.
"When you get to know people who are different from you, you begin to learn more about yourself. You change. You grow. I'm a better person now. I'm a better person because of them, because of my friends. So, I'm not pissed off anymore," Dustin continued to say, his gaze scanning the crowd. "But I am worried. Worried because now that the chaos is over, Principal Higgins and every square like him is gonna do their damnedest to put everything back in order."
The crowd gasped at his words, but a grin began to spread across your face. It was more than just pride. In that moment, in the fearless way Dustin spoke his mind with the spark of rebellion in his eyes... it reminded you of Eddie.
-
*Hawkins High 1986*
You promised yourself that you'd never set foot back in this school. It had been over a year since you graduated and you hated this place with a burning passion, but... you hated washing dishes for minimum wage without your music more.
And your stupid brother had taken your Walkman to class instead of his own.
So, here you were.
A few jocks threw you disgusted glares as you strode past, but you ignored them just as you had done when you were a fellow student behind these walls. The cafeteria was filled with chatter and laughter as you entered, and it wasn't hard to find Eddie.
The Hellfire Club sat at their usual table by the window. You marched straight over to them, not bothering to announce your arrival. Instead, you planted yourself squarely on the edge of the bench between Eddie and Gareth, making the table shudder and Jeff's juice slosh dangerously.
"Jesus H Christ!" Eddie yelped, nearly tipping his chair backwards at your sudden appearance.
Gareth let out an amused snort and quickly scooted over to make room for you. You shot the drummer a grateful smile before focusing back on your brother with a glare.
"Where is it?"
"Where's what?" he asked innocently.
"Don't play dumb with me, Eds. You took my Walkman this morning instead of your shitty one."
He gasped dramatically. "I would never."
"Liar."
Around you, the rest of Hellfire watched in amusement as you and Eddie argued.
You leaned into his personal space, fixing him with a glare that would make any lesser man back away. But Eddie was used to it by now and didn't so much as flinch as you got right in his face.
"Where. Is. My. Walkman?" you ground out, enunciating each word like he was particularly stupid.
He held your gaze for exactly five seconds before his lips twitched, cracking into a shit-eating grin.
Without waiting for a response, you reached into the pocket of his battle vest and pulled out our Walkman, the familiar scuff marks from when you'd thrown it at him last month clearly visible on the casing.
"A search? Without a warrant? This is police brutality!" Eddie declared, loud enough for nearby tables to glance over.
Gareth snorted into his lunch tray while the others tried to muffle their laughter with their hands.
You clipped the Walkman to your belt and slid the headphones around your neck where they belonged, but before you could leave, Eddie snagged the back of your shirt.
"Oh no you don't," he said, tugging you back down onto the table. "You owe me for theft of personal property."
"It's my Walkman, you idiot."
"But it is my Maiden tape in there."
You froze, your eyes narrowing before you popped open the Walkman's tape compartment.
Sure enough, Iron Maiden's Piece of Mind stared back at you instead of Metallica's Ride the Lightning.
"Edward Munson," you said slowly, voice dangerously calm.
"Oh shit."
"He's so dead."
"Nice knowing ya, man," the others all mumbled in the background.
"Where is my favourite tape?" you questioned.
He shrugged. "Dunno."
"Check his lunchbox!" Dustin piped up.
Eddie's head snapped toward the kid. "Henderson, you traitor!"
You snatched the metal lunchbox from the table beside you before he could hide it. You flipped it open to reveal your beloved Metallica tape nestled neatly between a bag of weed and a half-eaten sandwich.
"Soooo," Gareth began to say, dragging out the word as he leaned back in his chair, sensing you were about to explode at Eddie. "Corroded Coffin practice tonight at mine. Dad said we can use the garage until eight. What time do you finish work, Y/N?"
Your fingers closed around the tape, shooting your twin a glare that promised retribution later.
"Five-thirty," you replied, shoving the tape back into your Walkman with a satisfying click. "I'll be there for rehearsal."
"When are you guys gonna perform somewhere other than the Hideout? That place is lame," Mike spoke up from across the table.
"One day we'll move to Los Angeles and conquer the Sunset Strip," you announced, smiling at the thought of the future. "We'll sell out the Whisky a Go Go, the Roxy, the Starwood, you name it. But until these dorks finish school... we're stuck with the Hideout."
"That's gonna take so long though," Dustin complained. "You guys should be playing for crowds now."
Eddie suddenly jumped to his feet, his chair scraping loudly in pure chaotic fashion. All eyes shifted to your brother, and you arched an eyebrow knowing whatever he was about to say was going to be good.
"Jeff graduates this year," he began, pointing to the bassist. "Gareth's got, what? A year and a half? Me, I am army-crawling my way through a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final... I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma, and I'm gonna run like hell outta here."
Dustin and Mike both chuckled, their eyes glued to Eddie like he was the only person in the cafeteria.
"Didn't you say that last year?" Gareth questioned smugly.
"And the year before that?" Jeff added.
"Yeah, yeah, and I was full of shit!" he replied, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "This year's different, I can feel it. This year... is my year. '86 baby!"
You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to speak, but your brother wasn't done yet.
"You know what that means?" Eddie turned to Dustin and Mike. "It means Corroded Coffin is about to leave Hawkins and you boys... you boys are the future of Hellfire."
You slid off the table to make your exit, knowing they were about to nerd out with D&D talk. You ruffled Eddie's already wild hair as you passed.
"Love you, asshole," you called over your shoulder.
"Love you too! " Eddie yelled back, flipping you off as you strolled out the cafeteria to the sound of the Hellfire Club's laughter.
-
*Hawkins High 1989*
Dustin's voice brought you back to the present as he continued his speech behind the podium.
"And I don't want order, which is why it's pretty hypocritical that I'm even wearing this thing. I mean, we look ridiculous. What is this? We look like Roman senators. I mean, it's not who I am. I don't think it's who any of us are. So honestly, just screw it."
He ripped off his graduation gown in one smooth motion, revealing the familiar logo of the Hellfire Club.
The crowd began to cheer and a small smirk spread across your face knowing he had planned this all along.
Principle Higgins rushed across the stage, trying to stop Dustin, but the kid just grabbed the microphone from the podium and moved away, still talking.
"Screw this school. Screw the system. Screw conformity. Screw everyone and everything trying to hold you back and tear us apart, because this, this is our year!"
Your breath hitched at the familiar words, Eddie's own voice echoing through your ears.
Steve was the first one to stand, clapping so hard his hands had to be stinging.
Then, the crowd erupted. The graduating class surged to their feet cheering and clapping, but your eyes stayed locked on Dustin.
He snatched his diploma from Principal Higgins, who looked seconds away from combusting, and without hesitation, flipped him the bird with a wide grin.
...Just like Eddie wanted to do.
Dustin turned to face the crowd, throwing his hands in the air as everyone cheered and screamed louder.
A wet laugh escaped your lips as you fought back tears rapidly rising in your eyes.
The lump in your throat threatened to choke you as Dustin's gaze shifted over the crowd before locking onto you. His grin was all mischief, all Eddie, and he raised his diploma higher as if to say, 'this one's for him'.
Steve noticed your emotions and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. His chin rested against the top of your head, tucking you gently against his chest.
The crowd roared around you, confetti shooting into the air and drifting over the students as they celebrated.
You buried your face into Steve's suit, laughing and crying all at once. You didn't even try to stop the tears from spilling, because Dustin Henderson had just given Eddie the graduation day he'd never gotten.
"You okay?" Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair.
"Yeah, I am," you replied, and you meant it.
Eddie might not be here, not in the way you wanted him to be, but he wasn't gone. Not really.
Eddie Munson's spirit was alive in every laugh, every reckless decision, every raised middle finger to the people who'd never understood the misfits and outcasts.
Some people never really died, nor did their legacy.
Not if you remembered them.
Not if you kept playing their song...
... and you always would.
-
Next Chapter
A/N: I'm thinking about adding a bonus *5 Years Later* final chapter, so... this might not be the end.
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings- language, past suicidal thoughts
Previous Chapter
Chapter 24- Life Is Beautiful
'you can't live until you die'
- Sixx:AM
Slowly, you blinked awake and squinted at the bright light seeping through the curtains, painting the room in a golden haze.
A familiar hand slid around your waist, fingers curling softly at your hip. You startled at the touch, still half asleep and a gentle laugh rumbled against your back.
You rolled over to find Steve lying beside you, propped up on one elbow. His hair was tousled as he smiled down at you.
"Morning, rockstar," he whispered, voice rough with sleep and brimming with affection.
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you closed your eyes letting out a content hum.
It had been a year and a half since the Upside Down was destroyed and you nearly died. The bullet wound had healed after weeks spent in hospital and countless antagonising months recovering.
Steve's thumb moved in lazy circles against the faded pink scar on your side like a ghost of what almost was. He shifted lower and pressed a gentle kiss to the scar. Then another. Then another.
"Hey," you murmured, reaching down and cupping his cheek. "Stop being sappy."
He smirked, leaning into your touch.
"Can't. You're my wife," he teased, his gaze softening further. "Gotta be sappy."
"Fiancé," you corrected, nodding pointedly at the silver ring on your finger. "Big difference, Harrington."
He rolled his eyes but his smile didn't waver. "Technicalities."
The sunlight danced across his face as you traced the curve of his cheekbone with your thumb, still marveling at the fact that you got to wake up like this every morning.
You had spent so long wishing to die, longing to be with Eddie again. There were nights where you wished you hadn't woken up in that hospital bed at all, wishing that the solider had just aimed a little higher and ended everything.
For a while, the pain of surviving felt heavier than the relief of being alive, but now, after everything, you realised you were grateful. Grateful for every sunrise, for the warmth of Steve's love, for the chance to keep living and to honour your brother's legacy.
Steve caught your wrist gently, pressing a kiss to your palm before he shifted, resting his head against your chest. You automatically raised your hand, running your fingers through his messy hair.
"I had a dream last night," he suddenly said.
"What about?"
He was quiet for a long moment and you felt his body tense slightly.
"Us... and a baby."
"A baby," you repeated, glancing down at him.
"Yeah."
A million thoughts rushed through your mind, but before you could fully process them, Steve was speaking again.
"It was a little girl. She... she had your eyes."
Your lips parted in surprise.
The truth was, you guys had never really spoke much about your future beyond the wedding next year, but you knew he wanted kids one day. You weren't entirely sure how you felt about having children of your own, but if there was one thing you did know... it was that Steve Harrington was born to be a father.
There was no doubt that he would be a fantastic dad. Hell, he had plenty of practice over the years with the Party. He would be a great father one day, but that day was definitely not anytime soon.
He must've taken your silence the wrong way because he quickly shifted, raising his head to peer at you.
"Hey, I'm not saying we have... I don't expect-"
"We couldn't even keep a cat alive," you reminded.
He let out a burst of laughter, the tension immediately melting from his shoulders.
"First of all, rude," he said, poking your ribs lightly. "Secondly, Mr. Whiskers chose to run away. That's not on us."
You snorted. "He ran away because you tried to put him in clothes."
"Bandanas are stylish!"
"You traumatised that poor cat."
Steve groaned dramatically, flopping onto his back and pulling you against his side. You sighed against his skin, breathing in the familiar scent of his expensive bodywash and shampoo.
"One day," you whispered, tracing idle patterns across his chest.
"...yeah?"
"Yeah." You nodded against him. "One day. But let's master keeping a cat alive first... or maybe a goldfish."
His laugh shook through you before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
"Speaking of kids... don't you have a baseball game to coach?"
Steve's eyes went wide. "Fuck."
He bolted upright, scrambling out of bed only to trip over the discarded pile of clothes on the floor and nearly faceplanted into the dresser. You chuckled in amusement, flipping back onto the pillows as he shot you a weak glare.
"Not funny."
"It was a little funny." You smirked as he frantically tugged on his Hawkins Cubs shirt, the one with his name embroidered on the chest pocket in big, proud letters.
The Hawkins Cubs was his ragtag team of misfit middle schoolers. They were notorious for their losing streak, but Steve made sure they aways left the field grinning, usually with the promise of post-game pizza.
You watched in amusement as he rushed around the bedroom looking for his pants. The scene was so normal. The guy who'd fought literal monsters in the Upside Down was currently panicking about being late to coach a bunch of kids. How did your life come to this?
"Babe," you called out.
He looked up in the middle of stuffing his foot into a sneaker. "Yeah?"
You smiled at him feeling an unexpected rush of affection. His hair was still a mess, the coaching shirt half-buttoned and untucked and there were faint pillow lines across his cheek. God, you loved this man.
"Don't forget the other kids graduation today. I'll meet you there after I have lunch with Uncle Wayne."
"Oh my god. I completely forgot!" He rubbed his face, groaning. "Okay, okay. Game at 10am, graduation at 3pm... shit, I don't even know where my suit is."
"Go to your game, I'll find your suit and bring it. You can change in the car."
"Marry me faster," he blurted out.
You rolled your eyes. "Stop distracting yourself, you're gonna be late."
He nodded, rushing toward the door before quickly doubling back to press a sloppy, hurried kiss to your lips. You kissed him back before he pulled away, giving you a wink and sprinting out the room.
"Love you! Tell Wayne I said hi!" His voice echoed down the hallway.
The front door slammed shut a second later and you let out a laugh before collapsing back onto the pillows, listening to the screeching tyres of his new BMW as he pulled out of the driveway.
-
You hummed along to the radio as you took a turn, driving through the familiar streets towards the trailer park.
It was weird how life had returned to a sense of normalcy.
Hawkins was no longer under military lockdown. The government had packed up and left soon after the Upside Down collapsed, and the town was finally starting to heal.
Some residents still shot you cautious glances whenever you wandered down the street, but you simply ignored them.
Your name was still tainted from the false murderer allegations from 1986. Some people still whispered and pointed whenever you walked by. Murderer. Dangerous. Munson scum. The words followed you like a bad smell, but the good in Hawkins outweighed the bad.
"Hi there, strangers," Robins voice suddenly said over the radio. "It's been a while. I mean, do you guys even remember me? Okay, maybe I'm being too modest. I mean, let's be honest, who could forget this soothing voice with a trace of Debra Winger rasp? That's right. It's me, Robin Buckley, aka Rockin' Robin. Jimmy 'Fast Hands' was kind enough to let me back into the booth for a guest stint."
You reached over and cranked up the volume. You'd missed listening to her ramble on the radio every morning.
"Now, I got something very special for you guys. A dear friend of mine has just released her very first song! Yes, you heard correctly folks. My friend, your fellow Hawkins resident, Y/N Munson has released a song! Now, I might be a tiny bit bias, but it is totally awesome. It's called 'One More Breath'. Now sit back and enjoy."
Your mouth had dropped open as soon as you heard your name.
Robin was actually playing your song.
Holy shit.
The familiar opening notes drifted through the car and your breath hitched as your own voice rang out a few seconds later. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious. This was the actual radio which meant the whole town was listening.
'Lost in shadows,
swallowed by pain,
haunted by your memory,
every second of every day.'
The song wasn't just yours, it was Eddie's too. The main melody was something he used to hum absentmindedly years ago, that same catchy half formed tune that used to annoy you in the middle of the night... but now you had finished it for him.
The song had taken you months to create. Lyrics scribbled on napkins between pouring drinks at the Hideout and written on sticky notes around your house whenever inspiration hit.
Your fingers started tapping the steering in time with the beat, and you found yourself whispering the lyrics along with the song, lost in the memories contained within the words.
'Death has whispered in my ear,
like a sweet siren call pulling me near.
I'd follow you if I could,
oh, I would follow if I could,
One more breath, one more night,
one more fight against the dark inside.
Brother, I'm lost,
I'm so, so lost,
but I'll try to survive though I don't know why.'
As you turned down the next street, your guitar solo exploded through the speakers, flooding the car. The familiar rapid-fire notes soared over the thundering drums and your fingers twitched to play along.
You could still remember the hours spent hunched over your guitar, trying to find the right chords to capture how you felt. It wasn't your usual style, but this song needed that raw emotion and vulnerability.
Gareth played the drums in the song after you call for a favour. He drove in from Indianapolis the next day without hesitation, his old Hellfire shirt wrinkled from the trunk of his car.
You hadn't seen him since Eddie's funeral, but the second he walked into your tiny home studio – Steve's garage with soundproof foam taped to the walls – he hugged you so tight your ribs ached.
You expected it to be awkward. Gareth was your brother's best friend. They were inseparable ever since kindergarten, but it wasn't awkward in the slightest.
Gareth had listened to what you had recorded so far and before long he'd attacked the drums like he was exorcising a ghost. The drumsticks had flown as he fell back into the rhythm of your shared teenage years and you'd watched him from behind the mic, your throat tight as the music swelled just the way Eddie would've wanted it.
'One more breath, one more night,
one more fight against the dark inside.
I ache to vanish, to fade to black,
but I'm still here, holding back'
'Oh, brother I'm lost,
I'm drowning in pain,
just one more breath,
one more breath is all I've got left'
You blinked back tears as the song came to an end. They weren't sad tears though, they hadn't been for a long time because somewhere in whatever afterlife existed, you knew Eddie was listening and cheering you on.
The radio crackled as the last notes faded out and Robin's voice cut back in.
"Wow. Just... wow. Y/N Munson, ladies and gentlemen. Remember that name. Looks like we've got a hometown hit on our hands! Her debut single, 'One More Breath' is available for purchase on cassette at Family Video. So what are you waiting for? Go get yourself a copy before they sell out!"
You rolled your eyes at her enthusiastic support as Uncle Wayne's trailer came into view. The old man was already standing outside in front of the barbeque. He was wearing his usual flannel, hair a little greyer but his gruff smile still the same.
His face lit up when he saw you, and you couldn't help but grin back as you pulled up beside his rusty pickup truck.
"Hey, kiddo," he called out, wiping his hands against his apron. "Heard that song of yours just now. My old radio don't do it justice."
"Didn't know Robin was gonna spring that on me," you admitted, climbing out the car.
Wayne chuckled, shaking his head as he flipped a burger on the grill. "That girl's got a flair for the dramatic. Just like..."
His voice trailed off but you both knew exactly who he meant.
Eddie.
You smiled but the mention of your twin still hurt no matter how many years had passed because some wounds never fully healed... they just scarred over.
"He'd be damn proud, you know," Wayne said, his voice softening. "Eddie would be so proud of you."
Your throat tightened.
He was right. Eddie would've been the first one blasting your song from his shitty van, bragging about how his twin sister was a rock star. But if he was still alive... he would've been the one singing. It would've been Corroded Coffin written on the cassette tapes and you would've been happily standing by his side on stage every night shredding your guitar, watching him sing.
"Yeah," you replied, clearing your throat. "He'd have been insufferable about it."
Uncle Wayne nodded, looking away to concentrate on the food.
There were a few moments of comfortable silence before you grabbed two sodas from the cooler and tossed him one. He caught it with his free hand and nodded his thanks, cracking it open.
He was sober now.
Turns out, your near-death experience had scared him into quitting alcohol cold turkey.
When he got the phone call about you in critical condition at hospital, he had been halfway through a bottle of Jack and couldn't drive himself there. That was enough to scare him sober. The thought of you dying in hospital without him there... he wouldn't have been able to live himself, and he hadn't had so much as had a single sip of beer or whiskey since.
You leaned against the porch railing, watching Wayne work the grill like he always did. The smell of charcoal and sizzling meat filling the air as you took a sip of your drink.
"That fiancé of yours... he treatin' you good?" Wayne suddenly asked, glancing sideways at you.
The question was casual, but you knew what he was really asking. He'd never say it out loud but you suspected he had always worried you'd end up with someone who would treat you the way your father had... cold, dismissive, abusive.
You rolled your eyes affectionately, but your voice softened without meaning to.
"He's Steve," you said like that explained everything, and it did.
Because Steve Harrington was the kind of guy who remembered your ridiculously complicated coffee order, who rewrapped your leftovers without being asked, who held your hand whenever you walked down the street, who still stayed up with you late at night when your grief and depression got bad even though he had work early the next morning.
Steve was your best friend, your safe place, the person who knew all your flaws and still thought you were worthy.
"Yeah," you replied, smiling softly. "He does. He treats me good. Real good."
The old man nodded once in satisfaction, turning his focus back to the grill as he brushed his special garlic butter over the corn. The breeze picked up, carrying with it the distant cheers of the little league game across town. Maybe Steve's Cubs were finally winning for once.
You smiled into your soda.
Life wasn't perfect. The nightmares still came sometimes, and Hawkins would always carry its scars. But despite everything... life was kinda good.
-
Next Chapter
A/N: This final chapter is split into 2 parts, so stay tuned for part 2 where we get to see Dustin's graduation speech (I bawled my eyes out when I first watched it)
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings- language, past suicidal thoughts
Previous Chapter
Chapter 24- Life Is Beautiful
'you can't live until you die'
- Sixx:AM
Slowly, you blinked awake and squinted at the bright light seeping through the curtains, painting the room in a golden haze.
A familiar hand slid around your waist, fingers curling softly at your hip. You startled at the touch, still half asleep and a gentle laugh rumbled against your back.
You rolled over to find Steve lying beside you, propped up on one elbow. His hair was tousled as he smiled down at you.
"Morning, rockstar," he whispered, voice rough with sleep and brimming with affection.
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you closed your eyes letting out a content hum.
It had been a year and a half since the Upside Down was destroyed and you nearly died. The bullet wound had healed after weeks spent in hospital and countless antagonising months recovering.
Steve's thumb moved in lazy circles against the faded pink scar on your side like a ghost of what almost was. He shifted lower and pressed a gentle kiss to the scar. Then another. Then another.
"Hey," you murmured, reaching down and cupping his cheek. "Stop being sappy."
He smirked, leaning into your touch.
"Can't. You're my wife," he teased, his gaze softening further. "Gotta be sappy."
"Fiancé," you corrected, nodding pointedly at the silver ring on your finger. "Big difference, Harrington."
He rolled his eyes but his smile didn't waver. "Technicalities."
The sunlight danced across his face as you traced the curve of his cheekbone with your thumb, still marveling at the fact that you got to wake up like this every morning.
You had spent so long wishing to die, longing to be with Eddie again. There were nights where you wished you hadn't woken up in that hospital bed at all, wishing that the solider had just aimed a little higher and ended everything.
For a while, the pain of surviving felt heavier than the relief of being alive, but now, after everything, you realised you were grateful. Grateful for every sunrise, for the warmth of Steve's love, for the chance to keep living and to honour your brother's legacy.
Steve caught your wrist gently, pressing a kiss to your palm before he shifted, resting his head against your chest. You automatically raised your hand, running your fingers through his messy hair.
"I had a dream last night," he suddenly said.
"What about?"
He was quiet for a long moment and you felt his body tense slightly.
"Us... and a baby."
"A baby," you repeated, glancing down at him.
"Yeah."
A million thoughts rushed through your mind, but before you could fully process them, Steve was speaking again.
"It was a little girl. She... she had your eyes."
Your lips parted in surprise.
The truth was, you guys had never really spoke much about your future beyond the wedding next year, but you knew he wanted kids one day. You weren't entirely sure how you felt about having children of your own, but if there was one thing you did know... it was that Steve Harrington was born to be a father.
There was no doubt that he would be a fantastic dad. Hell, he had plenty of practice over the years with the Party. He would be a great father one day, but that day was definitely not anytime soon.
He must've taken your silence the wrong way because he quickly shifted, raising his head to peer at you.
"Hey, I'm not saying we have... I don't expect-"
"We couldn't even keep a cat alive," you reminded.
He let out a burst of laughter, the tension immediately melting from his shoulders.
"First of all, rude," he said, poking your ribs lightly. "Secondly, Mr. Whiskers chose to run away. That's not on us."
You snorted. "He ran away because you tried to put him in clothes."
"Bandanas are stylish!"
"You traumatised that poor cat."
Steve groaned dramatically, flopping onto his back and pulling you against his side. You sighed against his skin, breathing in the familiar scent of his expensive bodywash and shampoo.
"One day," you whispered, tracing idle patterns across his chest.
"...yeah?"
"Yeah." You nodded against him. "One day. But let's master keeping a cat alive first... or maybe a goldfish."
His laugh shook through you before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
"Speaking of kids... don't you have a baseball game to coach?"
Steve's eyes went wide. "Fuck."
He bolted upright, scrambling out of bed only to trip over the discarded pile of clothes on the floor and nearly faceplanted into the dresser. You chuckled in amusement, flipping back onto the pillows as he shot you a weak glare.
"Not funny."
"It was a little funny." You smirked as he frantically tugged on his Hawkins Cubs shirt, the one with his name embroidered on the chest pocket in big, proud letters.
The Hawkins Cubs was his ragtag team of misfit middle schoolers. They were notorious for their losing streak, but Steve made sure they aways left the field grinning, usually with the promise of post-game pizza.
You watched in amusement as he rushed around the bedroom looking for his pants. The scene was so normal. The guy who'd fought literal monsters in the Upside Down was currently panicking about being late to coach a bunch of kids. How did your life come to this?
"Babe," you called out.
He looked up in the middle of stuffing his foot into a sneaker. "Yeah?"
You smiled at him feeling an unexpected rush of affection. His hair was still a mess, the coaching shirt half-buttoned and untucked and there were faint pillow lines across his cheek. God, you loved this man.
"Don't forget the other kids graduation today. I'll meet you there after I have lunch with Uncle Wayne."
"Oh my god. I completely forgot!" He rubbed his face, groaning. "Okay, okay. Game at 10am, graduation at 3pm... shit, I don't even know where my suit is."
"Go to your game, I'll find your suit and bring it. You can change in the car."
"Marry me faster," he blurted out.
You rolled your eyes. "Stop distracting yourself, you're gonna be late."
He nodded, rushing toward the door before quickly doubling back to press a sloppy, hurried kiss to your lips. You kissed him back before he pulled away, giving you a wink and sprinting out the room.
"Love you! Tell Wayne I said hi!" His voice echoed down the hallway.
The front door slammed shut a second later and you let out a laugh before collapsing back onto the pillows, listening to the screeching tyres of his new BMW as he pulled out of the driveway.
-
You hummed along to the radio as you took a turn, driving through the familiar streets towards the trailer park.
It was weird how life had returned to a sense of normalcy.
Hawkins was no longer under military lockdown. The government had packed up and left soon after the Upside Down collapsed, and the town was finally starting to heal.
Some residents still shot you cautious glances whenever you wandered down the street, but you simply ignored them.
Your name was still tainted from the false murderer allegations from 1986. Some people still whispered and pointed whenever you walked by. Murderer. Dangerous. Munson scum. The words followed you like a bad smell, but the good in Hawkins outweighed the bad.
"Hi there, strangers," Robins voice suddenly said over the radio. "It's been a while. I mean, do you guys even remember me? Okay, maybe I'm being too modest. I mean, let's be honest, who could forget this soothing voice with a trace of Debra Winger rasp? That's right. It's me, Robin Buckley, aka Rockin' Robin. Jimmy 'Fast Hands' was kind enough to let me back into the booth for a guest stint."
You reached over and cranked up the volume. You'd missed listening to her ramble on the radio every morning.
"Now, I got something very special for you guys. A dear friend of mine has just released her very first song! Yes, you heard correctly folks. My friend, your fellow Hawkins resident, Y/N Munson has released a song! Now, I might be a tiny bit bias, but it is totally awesome. It's called 'One More Breath'. Now sit back and enjoy."
Your mouth had dropped open as soon as you heard your name.
Robin was actually playing your song.
Holy shit.
The familiar opening notes drifted through the car and your breath hitched as your own voice rang out a few seconds later. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious. This was the actual radio which meant the whole town was listening.
'Lost in shadows,
swallowed by pain,
haunted by your memory,
every second of every day.'
The song wasn't just yours, it was Eddie's too. The main melody was something he used to hum absentmindedly years ago, that same catchy half formed tune that used to annoy you in the middle of the night... but now you had finished it for him.
The song had taken you months to create. Lyrics scribbled on napkins between pouring drinks at the Hideout and written on sticky notes around your house whenever inspiration hit.
Your fingers started tapping the steering in time with the beat, and you found yourself whispering the lyrics along with the song, lost in the memories contained within the words.
'Death has whispered in my ear,
like a sweet siren call pulling me near.
I'd follow you if I could,
oh, I would follow if I could,
One more breath, one more night,
one more fight against the dark inside.
Brother, I'm lost,
I'm so, so lost,
but I'll try to survive though I don't know why.'
As you turned down the next street, your guitar solo exploded through the speakers, flooding the car. The familiar rapid-fire notes soared over the thundering drums and your fingers twitched to play along.
You could still remember the hours spent hunched over your guitar, trying to find the right chords to capture how you felt. It wasn't your usual style, but this song needed that raw emotion and vulnerability.
Gareth played the drums in the song after you call for a favour. He drove in from Indianapolis the next day without hesitation, his old Hellfire shirt wrinkled from the trunk of his car.
You hadn't seen him since Eddie's funeral, but the second he walked into your tiny home studio – Steve's garage with soundproof foam taped to the walls – he hugged you so tight your ribs ached.
You expected it to be awkward. Gareth was your brother's best friend. They were inseparable ever since kindergarten, but it wasn't awkward in the slightest.
Gareth had listened to what you had recorded so far and before long he'd attacked the drums like he was exorcising a ghost. The drumsticks had flown as he fell back into the rhythm of your shared teenage years and you'd watched him from behind the mic, your throat tight as the music swelled just the way Eddie would've wanted it.
'One more breath, one more night,
one more fight against the dark inside.
I ache to vanish, to fade to black,
but I'm still here, holding back'
'Oh, brother I'm lost,
I'm drowning in pain,
just one more breath,
one more breath is all I've got left'
You blinked back tears as the song came to an end. They weren't sad tears though, they hadn't been for a long time because somewhere in whatever afterlife existed, you knew Eddie was listening and cheering you on.
The radio crackled as the last notes faded out and Robin's voice cut back in.
"Wow. Just... wow. Y/N Munson, ladies and gentlemen. Remember that name. Looks like we've got a hometown hit on our hands! Her debut single, 'One More Breath' is available for purchase on cassette at Family Video. So what are you waiting for? Go get yourself a copy before they sell out!"
You rolled your eyes at her enthusiastic support as Uncle Wayne's trailer came into view. The old man was already standing outside in front of the barbeque. He was wearing his usual flannel, hair a little greyer but his gruff smile still the same.
His face lit up when he saw you, and you couldn't help but grin back as you pulled up beside his rusty pickup truck.
"Hey, kiddo," he called out, wiping his hands against his apron. "Heard that song of yours just now. My old radio don't do it justice."
"Didn't know Robin was gonna spring that on me," you admitted, climbing out the car.
Wayne chuckled, shaking his head as he flipped a burger on the grill. "That girl's got a flair for the dramatic. Just like..."
His voice trailed off but you both knew exactly who he meant.
Eddie.
You smiled but the mention of your twin still hurt no matter how many years had passed because some wounds never fully healed... they just scarred over.
"He'd be damn proud, you know," Wayne said, his voice softening. "Eddie would be so proud of you."
Your throat tightened.
He was right. Eddie would've been the first one blasting your song from his shitty van, bragging about how his twin sister was a rock star. But if he was still alive... he would've been the one singing. It would've been Corroded Coffin written on the cassette tapes and you would've been happily standing by his side on stage every night shredding your guitar, watching him sing.
"Yeah," you replied, clearing your throat. "He'd have been insufferable about it."
Uncle Wayne nodded, looking away to concentrate on the food.
There were a few moments of comfortable silence before you grabbed two sodas from the cooler and tossed him one. He caught it with his free hand and nodded his thanks, cracking it open.
He was sober now.
Turns out, your near-death experience had scared him into quitting alcohol cold turkey.
When he got the phone call about you in critical condition at hospital, he had been halfway through a bottle of Jack and couldn't drive himself there. That was enough to scare him sober. The thought of you dying in hospital without him there... he wouldn't have been able to live himself, and he hadn't had so much as had a single sip of beer or whiskey since.
You leaned against the porch railing, watching Wayne work the grill like he always did. The smell of charcoal and sizzling meat filling the air as you took a sip of your drink.
"That fiancé of yours... he treatin' you good?" Wayne suddenly asked, glancing sideways at you.
The question was casual, but you knew what he was really asking. He'd never say it out loud but you suspected he had always worried you'd end up with someone who would treat you the way your father had... cold, dismissive, abusive.
You rolled your eyes affectionately, but your voice softened without meaning to.
"He's Steve," you said like that explained everything, and it did.
Because Steve Harrington was the kind of guy who remembered your ridiculously complicated coffee order, who rewrapped your leftovers without being asked, who held your hand whenever you walked down the street, who still stayed up with you late at night when your grief and depression got bad even though he had work early the next morning.
Steve was your best friend, your safe place, the person who knew all your flaws and still thought you were worthy.
"Yeah," you replied, smiling softly. "He does. He treats me good. Real good."
The old man nodded once in satisfaction, turning his focus back to the grill as he brushed his special garlic butter over the corn. The breeze picked up, carrying with it the distant cheers of the little league game across town. Maybe Steve's Cubs were finally winning for once.
You smiled into your soda.
Life wasn't perfect. The nightmares still came sometimes, and Hawkins would always carry its scars. But despite everything... life was kinda good.
-
Next Chapter
A/N: This final chapter is split into 2 parts, so stay tuned for part 2 where we get to see Dustin's graduation speech (I bawled my eyes out when I first watched it)
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings- language, past suicidal thoughts, blood
Previous Chapter
Chapter 23- For Whom The Bell Tolls
'take a look to the sky just before you die
it's the last time you will'
- Metallica
Miraculously, you got the kids out of the Abyss and safely down the radio tower before loading them into the back of the truck.
Hopper and Murray met you on the road in a military vehicle that they had stolen after they were ambushed at the lab. Kali was dead, but Murray blew up the army's helicopter and saved Hopper and El, so that was a relief.
Steve drove the truck while you sat in the passenger seat, your eyes scanning the horizon for danger, more out of habit than necessity.
"Hey." Steve reached over, his hand resting on your knee. "You good?"
You nodded, placing your hand over his. "We might actually make it out of here alive."
"You sound surprised."
You shrugged, a faint smile tugging at your lips.
You had planned on dying. Deep down, you were certain that Steve knew it, but now...
Vecna was dead.
You killed the monster that had been responsible for Eddie's death, but it didn't bring your brother back. Eddie Munson was still gone and he was never coming back. That familiar, aching hole in your heart would never be fixed either but... you felt lighter, somehow.
"You could've died," Steve murmured, his voice barely audible over the rumble of the engine. "When you were being the bait... you- you could've died, Y/N."
"Yeah," you agreed quietly, tilting your head toward him.
He glanced over at you, his warm, brown eyes meeting yours. There was so much pain and worry swimming inside them, but there was also relief. Relief because you didn't die. You were still alive. Everyone was still alive.
He shifted his focus back to the road, but his hand remained on your knee, his thumb gently tracing a path back and forth.
Eventually, the glowing red gate appeared up ahead as Steve turned the corner. Hopper and Murray drove through first and you guys followed when suddenly-
"Shit, Steve!" you shouted, noticing the tyre spikes on the ground a second too late.
The truck jerked as he ran over them, the tyres instantly popping before you came to a stop beside Hopper and Murray's vehicle.
Soldiers appeared out nowhere with their guns raised. They shouted orders and swarmed both vehicles before you could blink.
The passenger side door was wrenched open and a gloved hand seized your arm, yanking you out, hard. You barely caught yourself before your knees hit the dirt, but the solider hauled you upright, shoving the barrel of his rifle against your spine.
"Don't hurt her!" Steve yelled as two more soldiers dragged him from the driver's side, slamming him against the hood of the truck.
You twisted slightly to see the others being pulled from the back of the truck. Holly was ripped roughly from Nancy's embrace while Joyce clung protectively to Will, shielding him with her body. The other kids were being roughly corralled by more soldiers, pinning them up against the side of the truck at gunpoint.
"Hands behind your head!" the solider behind you barked, jamming the muzzle harder into your back.
You gritted your teeth but complied, locking eyes with Steve across the hood of the truck. His jaw was clenched, panic flashing through his gaze as a soldier wrenched his arms behind his back.
"Sergeant! Where's the girl?" an older woman in military uniform questioned.
The girl?
Oh, El.
You quickly looked around, your eyes scanning the kids, ticking them off in your head to ensure they were all accounted for but El was missing.
Did she get away?
You glanced around, trying to find her, hoping she was hiding somewhere but then your heart stopped.
She was standing on the other side of the gate in the Upside Down... the Upside Down that was going to blow up and take everything with it in a matter of minutes.
No.
No, no, no, no.
"El!" Mike cried, noticing her as well.
Dustin, Lucas and Will were screaming. Hopper was fighting against the soldiers holding him back, trying desperately to get to his daughter but he couldn't.
She stood motionless on the other side of the gate, her silhouette framed by the eerie red glow of the Upside Down. Her face was calm, way too calm, as if she had already accepted her fate.
Time seemed to freeze.
Hopper's voice cracked as he roared her name.
Mike thrashed against the solider holding him, screaming, "El, no! Eleven! El! El!"
But El just smiled at them. A sad, final smile.
No.
You spun so suddenly the solider barely had a chance to react before you smashed the butt of your handgun – the dumbass didn't disarm you, that's his own fault – against his forehead, knocking him out with a solid thud.
Then, you were running.
You sprinted towards the gate, vaguely hearing Steve shout your name but you were only focused on El, on the little girl who, after everything, deserved a life... deserved to be happy.
A gunshot cracked through the air.
Pain exploded through your side as the bullet sliced through your flesh, spinning you around before you hit the ground. The handgun flew from your fingers as you gasped, hands immediately going to the wound.
It was bad.
Really bad.
Blood was already soaking through your now ruined Guns N' Roses shirt, staining your trembling fingers.
El was still standing there, her wide eyes locking with yours in panic. You forced yourself onto your elbows, ignoring the screaming pain as you tried to sit up and get to her.
A shadow fell over you and Steve's panicked face appeared as he dropped to his knees beside you, hands pressing against the wound. White hot pain flared through your body at the pressure, a pained whimper escaping your lips.
Guess he must've broken free too. Weak soldiers, you thought smugly.
"Jesus Christ," he gasped, clocking just how bad it was.
You gritted your teeth, bloodied fingers clawing into the dirt as you tried to sit up, but he grasped your shoulder tightly, not letting you.
"El... she's-" you tried to say, but it was too late.
A bright light exploded from the gate. Steve threw his body over yours, shielding you as a shockwave rocked the earth.
You looked past his shoulder just in time to see the Upside Down behind El being swept away. Debris blew around her, being sucked out through the now broken walls of the wormhole and within a blink of an eye, El was swept away too.
Steve held onto you tightly as the wind suddenly blew, sucking dirt and dust from your side of the gate through the opening with more force than you anticipated... until, it all stopped.
The gate was gone.
El was gone.
You couldn't save her.
"No!" you cried out.
Steve shifted, lying you back on the ground as your head spun. His face was taut with panic as he cupped the side of your neck with one hand while the other remained pressed down against the gunshot wound.
"Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. Y/N, look at me."
The world was hazy and fading at the edges, but you focused on his face.
"You're gonna be fine," he insisted, voice trembling. "You hear me? You're gonna be fine."
"Get a medic! Help her!" Robin's voice shouted in the distance.
Nancy was yelling too, her words venomous. "You fucking shot her! How could you?!"
But all you could focus on was Steve.
His hands were shaking where they pressed against your wound, blood seeping between his fingers rapidly.
"I told you not to do anything stupid!" he hissed, silent tears spilling down his cheeks.
You choked out a weak laugh. "Guess stupidity runs in the family."
He froze at the reference of Eddie.
"You don't get to- you don't get to follow him, you hear me? Stay with me. Please, just stay with me," he rasped, thumb brushing your jaw. "You're not done pissing me off yet, rockstar."
His fingers were slick with your blood, still pressing against the wound even though you both knew it was too late.
"It's... it's okay," you whispered. "I... I love you... Steve Harrington."
A sob ripped through him as his head dropped to your shoulder.
"I love you too, rockstar," he breathed, voice cracking. "Please- please don't... don't leave me. Please, Y/N, don't leave me. Don't leave me."
You smiled weakly, lifting a trembling hand to grasp the back of his head, bloodied fingers tangling weakly in his hair.
Steve let out another broken cry, his face buried against your neck as the world around you started to fade.
You stared up at the night sky blurred above you. The stars flickered and you could almost pretend that you were lying on the roof of the trailer beside Eddie with a stolen six-pack between you, counting constellations neither of you knew the name of.
"Look..." you whispered, voice barely audible. "The stars... they're..."
Beautiful.
But the word never made it past your lips.
Your hand fell and the stars blurred into darkness.
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings- language, past suicidal thoughts, blood
Previous Chapter
Chapter 23- For Whom The Bell Tolls
'take a look to the sky just before you die
it's the last time you will'
- Metallica
Miraculously, you got the kids out of the Abyss and safely down the radio tower before loading them into the back of the truck.
Hopper and Murray met you on the road in a military vehicle that they had stolen after they were ambushed at the lab. Kali was dead, but Murray blew up the army's helicopter and saved Hopper and El, so that was a relief.
Steve drove the truck while you sat in the passenger seat, your eyes scanning the horizon for danger, more out of habit than necessity.
"Hey." Steve reached over, his hand resting on your knee. "You good?"
You nodded, placing your hand over his. "We might actually make it out of here alive."
"You sound surprised."
You shrugged, a faint smile tugging at your lips.
You had planned on dying. Deep down, you were certain that Steve knew it, but now...
Vecna was dead.
You killed the monster that had been responsible for Eddie's death, but it didn't bring your brother back. Eddie Munson was still gone and he was never coming back. That familiar, aching hole in your heart would never be fixed either but... you felt lighter, somehow.
"You could've died," Steve murmured, his voice barely audible over the rumble of the engine. "When you were being the bait... you- you could've died, Y/N."
"Yeah," you agreed quietly, tilting your head toward him.
He glanced over at you, his warm, brown eyes meeting yours. There was so much pain and worry swimming inside them, but there was also relief. Relief because you didn't die. You were still alive. Everyone was still alive.
He shifted his focus back to the road, but his hand remained on your knee, his thumb gently tracing a path back and forth.
Eventually, the glowing red gate appeared up ahead as Steve turned the corner. Hopper and Murray drove through first and you guys followed when suddenly-
"Shit, Steve!" you shouted, noticing the tyre spikes on the ground a second too late.
The truck jerked as he ran over them, the tyres instantly popping before you came to a stop beside Hopper and Murray's vehicle.
Soldiers appeared out nowhere with their guns raised. They shouted orders and swarmed both vehicles before you could blink.
The passenger side door was wrenched open and a gloved hand seized your arm, yanking you out, hard. You barely caught yourself before your knees hit the dirt, but the solider hauled you upright, shoving the barrel of his rifle against your spine.
"Don't hurt her!" Steve yelled as two more soldiers dragged him from the driver's side, slamming him against the hood of the truck.
You twisted slightly to see the others being pulled from the back of the truck. Holly was ripped roughly from Nancy's embrace while Joyce clung protectively to Will, shielding him with her body. The other kids were being roughly corralled by more soldiers, pinning them up against the side of the truck at gunpoint.
"Hands behind your head!" the solider behind you barked, jamming the muzzle harder into your back.
You gritted your teeth but complied, locking eyes with Steve across the hood of the truck. His jaw was clenched, panic flashing through his gaze as a soldier wrenched his arms behind his back.
"Sergeant! Where's the girl?" an older woman in military uniform questioned.
The girl?
Oh, El.
You quickly looked around, your eyes scanning the kids, ticking them off in your head to ensure they were all accounted for but El was missing.
Did she get away?
You glanced around, trying to find her, hoping she was hiding somewhere but then your heart stopped.
She was standing on the other side of the gate in the Upside Down... the Upside Down that was going to blow up and take everything with it in a matter of minutes.
No.
No, no, no, no.
"El!" Mike cried, noticing her as well.
Dustin, Lucas and Will were screaming. Hopper was fighting against the soldiers holding him back, trying desperately to get to his daughter but he couldn't.
She stood motionless on the other side of the gate, her silhouette framed by the eerie red glow of the Upside Down. Her face was calm, way too calm, as if she had already accepted her fate.
Time seemed to freeze.
Hopper's voice cracked as he roared her name.
Mike thrashed against the solider holding him, screaming, "El, no! Eleven! El! El!"
But El just smiled at them. A sad, final smile.
No.
You spun so suddenly the solider barely had a chance to react before you smashed the butt of your handgun – the dumbass didn't disarm you, that's his own fault – against his forehead, knocking him out with a solid thud.
Then, you were running.
You sprinted towards the gate, vaguely hearing Steve shout your name but you were only focused on El, on the little girl who, after everything, deserved a life... deserved to be happy.
A gunshot cracked through the air.
Pain exploded through your side as the bullet sliced through your flesh, spinning you around before you hit the ground. The handgun flew from your fingers as you gasped, hands immediately going to the wound.
It was bad.
Really bad.
Blood was already soaking through your now ruined Guns N' Roses shirt, staining your trembling fingers.
El was still standing there, her wide eyes locking with yours in panic. You forced yourself onto your elbows, ignoring the screaming pain as you tried to sit up and get to her.
A shadow fell over you and Steve's panicked face appeared as he dropped to his knees beside you, hands pressing against the wound. White hot pain flared through your body at the pressure, a pained whimper escaping your lips.
Guess he must've broken free too. Weak soldiers, you thought smugly.
"Jesus Christ," he gasped, clocking just how bad it was.
You gritted your teeth, bloodied fingers clawing into the dirt as you tried to sit up, but he grasped your shoulder tightly, not letting you.
"El... she's-" you tried to say, but it was too late.
A bright light exploded from the gate. Steve threw his body over yours, shielding you as a shockwave rocked the earth.
You looked past his shoulder just in time to see the Upside Down behind El being swept away. Debris blew around her, being sucked out through the now broken walls of the wormhole and within a blink of an eye, El was swept away too.
Steve held onto you tightly as the wind suddenly blew, sucking dirt and dust from your side of the gate through the opening with more force than you anticipated... until, it all stopped.
The gate was gone.
El was gone.
You couldn't save her.
"No!" you cried out.
Steve shifted, lying you back on the ground as your head spun. His face was taut with panic as he cupped the side of your neck with one hand while the other remained pressed down against the gunshot wound.
"Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. Y/N, look at me."
The world was hazy and fading at the edges, but you focused on his face.
"You're gonna be fine," he insisted, voice trembling. "You hear me? You're gonna be fine."
"Get a medic! Help her!" Robin's voice shouted in the distance.
Nancy was yelling too, her words venomous. "You fucking shot her! How could you?!"
But all you could focus on was Steve.
His hands were shaking where they pressed against your wound, blood seeping between his fingers rapidly.
"I told you not to do anything stupid!" he hissed, silent tears spilling down his cheeks.
You choked out a weak laugh. "Guess stupidity runs in the family."
He froze at the reference of Eddie.
"You don't get to- you don't get to follow him, you hear me? Stay with me. Please, just stay with me," he rasped, thumb brushing your jaw. "You're not done pissing me off yet, rockstar."
His fingers were slick with your blood, still pressing against the wound even though you both knew it was too late.
"It's... it's okay," you whispered. "I... I love you... Steve Harrington."
A sob ripped through him as his head dropped to your shoulder.
"I love you too, rockstar," he breathed, voice cracking. "Please- please don't... don't leave me. Please, Y/N, don't leave me. Don't leave me."
You smiled weakly, lifting a trembling hand to grasp the back of his head, bloodied fingers tangling weakly in his hair.
Steve let out another broken cry, his face buried against your neck as the world around you started to fade.
You stared up at the night sky blurred above you. The stars flickered and you could almost pretend that you were lying on the roof of the trailer beside Eddie with a stolen six-pack between you, counting constellations neither of you knew the name of.
"Look..." you whispered, voice barely audible. "The stars... they're..."
Beautiful.
But the word never made it past your lips.
Your hand fell and the stars blurred into darkness.
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings- language, suicidal thoughts
Previous Chapter
Chapter 22- Heroes
'we can be heroes, just for one day'
– David Bowie
The Abyss was not what you expected.
Granted, you weren't entirely sure what you had been expecting. Maybe more vines, more monsters, more particles in the air. Instead, it was just... empty.
You followed the others as you trekked across the dusty terrain. You were beginning to think that you were walking in the wrong direction and that's when you saw the thing in the distance. A monster looking fortress.
"That's it," Will said, pointing at it. "That's what I saw in my vision. The kids are in there."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Nancy continued to march toward it, and you all hurriedly followed.
When you began to get closer Will suddenly had a vision... or he tapped into the hive mind... into Vecna's mind... you still weren't entirely sure how his new abilities actually worked but either way, Vecna was still alive. El hadn't killed him after all.
Will let out a pained screamed before dropping to his hands and knees. Joyce and Jonathan were by his side in an instant and you hovered back, watching anxiously.
"What's going on? What do you see?" his mother questioned.
"It's Henry," he answered, staring at the ground. "He made it into the cave. He's found them. He's found Holly and the kids."
"Okay, what about El? Do you see El? Or Kali? Or Max?" Mike asked.
"They're alone. They're all alone."
"Could you stop him? With your powers?" Robin suggested.
"I can try. Just keep going," Will replied.
You all hesitated, not wanting to leave him there but then Joyce waved at you all to keep moving.
"Go! Go!" she instructed.
So, you all took off running.
A few minutes later the fortress let out a monstrous groan as if alive. The ground trembled and you all came to an abrupt halt as the towering things in the air suddenly twisted before slamming into the ground like giant legs.
Dirt exploded upward as the ground rumbled, knocking you all off balance.
You barely had time to react before yanking Steve back by the collar of his jacket just another limb impaled the spot where he'd been standing.
Your mouth parted in disbelief as the thing turned into a giant fleshy monster right before your very eyes.
Oh, that was bad.
That was so very, very bad.
"Run!" someone screamed.
You didn't need to be told twice.
You sprinted, legs burning and lungs heaving as the monstrous thing behind you let out an unearthly shriek as it lifted itself from the ground.
Steve's hand clamped around yours, pulling you forward as the ground shuddered after another impact as its limb crashed to your left, and then to your right, blocking you all in.
The creature's mouth opened, saliva dripping between rows of razor sharp teeth as it towered above you.
You lifted your rifle, finger resting over the trigger despite knowing bullets probably wouldn't stop this thing.
Suddenly, the monsters head snapped sideways as a large boulder crashed into its skull.
El.
You whipped around to find the kid standing nearby with her hand raised. The creature immediately turned its attention to the girl and the rest of you frantically bolted, trying to gain some distance from the monster.
You spared a glance over your shoulder just as El launched herself into the air and used her powers to part a hole through the creature's chest before she disappeared inside.
She was inside where the kids were being held hostage... and where Vecna was.
You went to run back toward the creature before Steve grabbed your arm. "What the hell are doing?"
"She needs help!"
"Y/N, you can't be serious-"
"Superpowers or not, she's still just a kid," you argued, yanking your arm free.
"What are you going to do, huh? Bullets won't kill that thing!" he snapped back, pointing at the giant fleshy monster.
"No. But it's a hive mind, right? I hurt that monster and it hurts Vecna. She's in there fighting him and she needs help."
"What?! Hurt Godzilla over there?" Robin exclaimed.
"The only way to damage anything of that scale, we spread out," Dustin began to explain. "Flank it on all sides. Just chip away at its hit points."
Steve frowned. "'Hit points'? What are you talking about 'hit points'?"
"There." Lucas suddenly pointed toward the cliffs. "One of us draws it to that canyon. The rest take positions on those cliffs. Ambush it from above."
"There's just one question. Which one of us is bait?" Robin asked.
Everyone went silent.
Then, you stepped forward. "I am."
You adjusted the strap of your rifle over your shoulder just as Steve's hand shot out to stop you again.
"Hell no. Absolutely not."
"Not your call, Harrington," you replied, holding his gaze.
Nancy stepped forward, handing you one of her spare magazines and mouthing the words, 'thank you.'
You had no doubt that she would've volunteered if you hadn't, but you also knew how scared she was. They were all scared. You were a little scared too. Scared of failing, scared one of them would get hurt, scared that Vecna would win.... You were scared of a lot of things, but you weren't scared to die.
You gave Nancy a nod and took the spare mag, tucking it into the pocket of your jacket before you glanced over at Jonathan.
"Take Steve and go," you instructed.
"No, wait-" Steve tried to protest.
Jonathan grabbed his arm and began hauling him away as the others sprinted toward the cliffs. Steve struggled against the other man's grasp, not wanting to leave you.
"Byers, let me go!"
"Stop being an idiot. We need you," Jonathan grunted, yanking him back.
"Yeah? Well, I need her!" he snapped desperately. "She's going to get herself killed!"
His protests faded behind you as you turned toward the monster. Taking a deep breath, you raised the rifle, pressing the butt of the gun firmly against your shoulder.
"Hey, ugly!" you shouted, unloading a few rounds into the side of its head.
The creature roared loudly and turned toward you.
Well, you definitely got its attention.
Good.
You sprinted for the canyon, boots kicking up dust as the ground trembled behind you from the creature following. The cliffs loomed ahead and you kept running until you reached the narrow canyon and slipped inside only to skid to a stop when you realised it was a dead end.
A cold wave of dread crashed over you.
The monsters snarl echoed from behind as it slammed its bulk against the opening, its sharp teeth scraping the canyon walls.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
You whirled around just as one of its limbs smashed into the cliffside above you. Rocks and dirt rained down, pelting your shoulders as you ducked, pressing your back against the far wall.
Your stomach dropped as you realised... it was going to get to you.
With shaky hands, you raised the rifle and continued to shoot. If this was it, you were going down guns blazing. Fuck it.
After a few seconds the weapon clicked, empty. You quickly ejected the magazine and reloaded with the spare before shooting again.
Its giant mouth covered the entire exit as it heaved itself closer and closer. The second magazine clicked empty soon after and you dropped the rifle, reaching for the handgun on your hip but it was too late.
Its snapping teeth were only a few feet away from you. You tried to step back, tried to put some space between you and your inevitable killer, but you were pressed up against the wall and couldn't move.
This was it.
You turned your head away and squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for it to be over and then...
The monster shrieked.
Your eyes snapped open just as flames erupted against the creatures back. Steve and the others rained fire from above. The monster back away with a howl, thrashing as the flames licked up its body.
You drew your handgun, racking the slide and started shooting at it again. The bullets tore through the weakened flesh while the other continued to fire from above, attacking it in every way they could think of with flamethrowers, Molotov cocktails, water ballons filled with gas followed by flares.
Anything and everything was used and suddenly, it reared back with an earsplitting screech before it crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
It was dead.
Holy shit, it was actually dead.
The others all started to cheer and you let out a shaky sigh of relief before your eyes landed on the hole in its chest where El had vanished.
You didn't hesitated, you rushed forward and shoved your way through the hole. El stood inside of whatever the hell this thing actually was, staring at Vecna's body that was impaled on thick sharp spike.
"El," you called out.
She spun around, eyes wide before she ran at you, crashing into your chest with enough force to nearly knock you back. You barely managed to holster your gun before her arms wrapped around your waist, face buried against your jacket.
You froze for split second and then hugged her back just as tight.
"You okay, kid?" you asked, a little shocked at the sudden display of affection.
She nodded against you. "He's gone."
"Good." You ruffled her hair causing a soft chuckle to escape her lips. "Now, you wanna get the hell out of here?"
She pulled away and pointed toward something. "The kids."
You looked over, realising what she meant and your stomach twisted at the sight. The missing kids were all stuck against the walls with long slimy tendrils covering their mouths.
You quickly rushed forward, hurrying over to the nearest kid, Derek Turnbow, and yanked the tendril off him before ripping the fleshy, membrane stuff away from his body.
Nancy suddenly rushed in shouting for her sister. You glanced over your shoulder just as the others all slipped inside, their eyes widening as they looked around the place.
"Get the kids!" you instructed, pointing to the other children tied up. "Steve, help me with him."
He quickly jogged over and began tearing at the flesh too before Derek's unconscious body slipped free. You and Steve gently eased the kid down to the ground before you gently shook his shoulders.
"Hey, hey, Derek. Wake up. Derek, wake up," you said.
His eyelids fluttered open and he gasped awake before promptly lurching away from you and retching. Black smoke poured out from his mouth, swirling up into the air before disappearing all within a matter of seconds.
You and Steve exchanged a 'what the actual fuck' look before you turned back to Derek.
"Easy, kid. You're okay. You're safe now. My name's-"
"You're Y/N. You're the badass chick who shot the monster at the barn," he croaked, wiping his mouth with a shaky hand.
Steve barked out a laugh. "She's definitely a badass."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smirk. "Yeah, yeah. Save the fan club for after we get the hell out of this place, okay?"
Derek kept staring at you with starstruck awe before Steve gently patted his shoulder.
"You're safe, bud. We're here to get you home," he reassured, his tone softening.
Derek then sat up and wrapped his arms around Steve's neck, hugging him tightly. Steve seemed taken back by the hug, but he soon closed his arms around the kid and hugged him in return.
You smiled watching him before slowly rising to your feet and looking around. The other kids were all now freed. They were confused and scared, but they were freed and they were alive.
Suddenly, a wet, choking gasp suddenly filled the air.
Your head snapped toward Vecna to find his body twitching where he was impaled as he struggled to breathe.
Huh, guess he wasn't quite dead yet.
You glanced toward the others and then your eyes landed on Joyce and Will who had just arrived, or more specifically, at the axe strapped to the older woman's back.
"Joyce," you called out, stepping toward her. "Can I borrow that?"
She didn't hesitate before unslinging the axe from her shoulder and passing it to you. Your fingers tightened around the wooden shaft as you marched toward Vecna.
His ruined face tilted toward you, black blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. It seemed like he was trying to say something as he gasped and spluttered but you simply raised the axe over your shoulder.
"This is for Eddie, you son of a bitch!"
The axe slammed into Vecna's neck with a sickening crunch, but you didn't stop. You swung again, and again. The blade bit deeper into his rotting flesh, black blood spraying until his head finally thudded to the floor.
You stumbled back a step, the weapon slipping from your fingers and hitting the ground. Eddie's face flashed behind your eyes – bloodied, pale and lifeless – as tears blurred your vision.
You got your revenge. Vecna was finally dead, but it didn't make you feel better... it didn't bring your brother back.
A choked sob escaped your lips and your knees nearly buckled.
Eddie.
You could still see him...
You could see the way he used to grin at you from across the trailer. The way he used to throw pillows at you from the top bunkbed. The way he used to drum his fingers against the counter while rambling about some new metal band he discovered. The way he used to stand beside you on stage as you traded off guitar riffs to a crowd of drunks but having the best time of your lives-
Someone's arms suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you against a firm chest.
"Hey. Hey," Steve's low voice murmured against your hair.
He rubbed slow circles between your shoulder blades while you cried silently in his arms, overwhelmed with emotions and memories that threatened to drown you.
"You did good, rockstar," he whispered. "Eddie would've loved that dramatic-ass scene you just pulled."
A wet laugh punched out of you despite the tears.
Yeah, he would've.
You pulled back just enough to wipe your face and compose yourself before you cleared your throat, nodding toward the others.
Summary: Corroded Coffin was the band you and your twin brother, Eddie Munson, created. You were the lead guitarist with dreams bigger than your small-town life. However, your plans were shattered when Chrissy died, pulling you into a web of tragedy and supernatural chaos.
As reality began to unravel, the walls you’d built around your heart started to crumble too… especially when Steve Harrington appeared, bringing comfort and a glimmer of hope when everything seemed lost.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings- language, suicidal thoughts
Previous Chapter
Chapter 22- Heroes
'we can be heroes, just for one day'
– David Bowie
The Abyss was not what you expected.
Granted, you weren't entirely sure what you had been expecting. Maybe more vines, more monsters, more particles in the air. Instead, it was just... empty.
You followed the others as you trekked across the dusty terrain. You were beginning to think that you were walking in the wrong direction and that's when you saw the thing in the distance. A monster looking fortress.
"That's it," Will said, pointing at it. "That's what I saw in my vision. The kids are in there."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Nancy continued to march toward it, and you all hurriedly followed.
When you began to get closer Will suddenly had a vision... or he tapped into the hive mind... into Vecna's mind... you still weren't entirely sure how his new abilities actually worked but either way, Vecna was still alive. El hadn't killed him after all.
Will let out a pained screamed before dropping to his hands and knees. Joyce and Jonathan were by his side in an instant and you hovered back, watching anxiously.
"What's going on? What do you see?" his mother questioned.
"It's Henry," he answered, staring at the ground. "He made it into the cave. He's found them. He's found Holly and the kids."
"Okay, what about El? Do you see El? Or Kali? Or Max?" Mike asked.
"They're alone. They're all alone."
"Could you stop him? With your powers?" Robin suggested.
"I can try. Just keep going," Will replied.
You all hesitated, not wanting to leave him there but then Joyce waved at you all to keep moving.
"Go! Go!" she instructed.
So, you all took off running.
A few minutes later the fortress let out a monstrous groan as if alive. The ground trembled and you all came to an abrupt halt as the towering things in the air suddenly twisted before slamming into the ground like giant legs.
Dirt exploded upward as the ground rumbled, knocking you all off balance.
You barely had time to react before yanking Steve back by the collar of his jacket just another limb impaled the spot where he'd been standing.
Your mouth parted in disbelief as the thing turned into a giant fleshy monster right before your very eyes.
Oh, that was bad.
That was so very, very bad.
"Run!" someone screamed.
You didn't need to be told twice.
You sprinted, legs burning and lungs heaving as the monstrous thing behind you let out an unearthly shriek as it lifted itself from the ground.
Steve's hand clamped around yours, pulling you forward as the ground shuddered after another impact as its limb crashed to your left, and then to your right, blocking you all in.
The creature's mouth opened, saliva dripping between rows of razor sharp teeth as it towered above you.
You lifted your rifle, finger resting over the trigger despite knowing bullets probably wouldn't stop this thing.
Suddenly, the monsters head snapped sideways as a large boulder crashed into its skull.
El.
You whipped around to find the kid standing nearby with her hand raised. The creature immediately turned its attention to the girl and the rest of you frantically bolted, trying to gain some distance from the monster.
You spared a glance over your shoulder just as El launched herself into the air and used her powers to part a hole through the creature's chest before she disappeared inside.
She was inside where the kids were being held hostage... and where Vecna was.
You went to run back toward the creature before Steve grabbed your arm. "What the hell are doing?"
"She needs help!"
"Y/N, you can't be serious-"
"Superpowers or not, she's still just a kid," you argued, yanking your arm free.
"What are you going to do, huh? Bullets won't kill that thing!" he snapped back, pointing at the giant fleshy monster.
"No. But it's a hive mind, right? I hurt that monster and it hurts Vecna. She's in there fighting him and she needs help."
"What?! Hurt Godzilla over there?" Robin exclaimed.
"The only way to damage anything of that scale, we spread out," Dustin began to explain. "Flank it on all sides. Just chip away at its hit points."
Steve frowned. "'Hit points'? What are you talking about 'hit points'?"
"There." Lucas suddenly pointed toward the cliffs. "One of us draws it to that canyon. The rest take positions on those cliffs. Ambush it from above."
"There's just one question. Which one of us is bait?" Robin asked.
Everyone went silent.
Then, you stepped forward. "I am."
You adjusted the strap of your rifle over your shoulder just as Steve's hand shot out to stop you again.
"Hell no. Absolutely not."
"Not your call, Harrington," you replied, holding his gaze.
Nancy stepped forward, handing you one of her spare magazines and mouthing the words, 'thank you.'
You had no doubt that she would've volunteered if you hadn't, but you also knew how scared she was. They were all scared. You were a little scared too. Scared of failing, scared one of them would get hurt, scared that Vecna would win.... You were scared of a lot of things, but you weren't scared to die.
You gave Nancy a nod and took the spare mag, tucking it into the pocket of your jacket before you glanced over at Jonathan.
"Take Steve and go," you instructed.
"No, wait-" Steve tried to protest.
Jonathan grabbed his arm and began hauling him away as the others sprinted toward the cliffs. Steve struggled against the other man's grasp, not wanting to leave you.
"Byers, let me go!"
"Stop being an idiot. We need you," Jonathan grunted, yanking him back.
"Yeah? Well, I need her!" he snapped desperately. "She's going to get herself killed!"
His protests faded behind you as you turned toward the monster. Taking a deep breath, you raised the rifle, pressing the butt of the gun firmly against your shoulder.
"Hey, ugly!" you shouted, unloading a few rounds into the side of its head.
The creature roared loudly and turned toward you.
Well, you definitely got its attention.
Good.
You sprinted for the canyon, boots kicking up dust as the ground trembled behind you from the creature following. The cliffs loomed ahead and you kept running until you reached the narrow canyon and slipped inside only to skid to a stop when you realised it was a dead end.
A cold wave of dread crashed over you.
The monsters snarl echoed from behind as it slammed its bulk against the opening, its sharp teeth scraping the canyon walls.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
You whirled around just as one of its limbs smashed into the cliffside above you. Rocks and dirt rained down, pelting your shoulders as you ducked, pressing your back against the far wall.
Your stomach dropped as you realised... it was going to get to you.
With shaky hands, you raised the rifle and continued to shoot. If this was it, you were going down guns blazing. Fuck it.
After a few seconds the weapon clicked, empty. You quickly ejected the magazine and reloaded with the spare before shooting again.
Its giant mouth covered the entire exit as it heaved itself closer and closer. The second magazine clicked empty soon after and you dropped the rifle, reaching for the handgun on your hip but it was too late.
Its snapping teeth were only a few feet away from you. You tried to step back, tried to put some space between you and your inevitable killer, but you were pressed up against the wall and couldn't move.
This was it.
You turned your head away and squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for it to be over and then...
The monster shrieked.
Your eyes snapped open just as flames erupted against the creatures back. Steve and the others rained fire from above. The monster back away with a howl, thrashing as the flames licked up its body.
You drew your handgun, racking the slide and started shooting at it again. The bullets tore through the weakened flesh while the other continued to fire from above, attacking it in every way they could think of with flamethrowers, Molotov cocktails, water ballons filled with gas followed by flares.
Anything and everything was used and suddenly, it reared back with an earsplitting screech before it crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
It was dead.
Holy shit, it was actually dead.
The others all started to cheer and you let out a shaky sigh of relief before your eyes landed on the hole in its chest where El had vanished.
You didn't hesitated, you rushed forward and shoved your way through the hole. El stood inside of whatever the hell this thing actually was, staring at Vecna's body that was impaled on thick sharp spike.
"El," you called out.
She spun around, eyes wide before she ran at you, crashing into your chest with enough force to nearly knock you back. You barely managed to holster your gun before her arms wrapped around your waist, face buried against your jacket.
You froze for split second and then hugged her back just as tight.
"You okay, kid?" you asked, a little shocked at the sudden display of affection.
She nodded against you. "He's gone."
"Good." You ruffled her hair causing a soft chuckle to escape her lips. "Now, you wanna get the hell out of here?"
She pulled away and pointed toward something. "The kids."
You looked over, realising what she meant and your stomach twisted at the sight. The missing kids were all stuck against the walls with long slimy tendrils covering their mouths.
You quickly rushed forward, hurrying over to the nearest kid, Derek Turnbow, and yanked the tendril off him before ripping the fleshy, membrane stuff away from his body.
Nancy suddenly rushed in shouting for her sister. You glanced over your shoulder just as the others all slipped inside, their eyes widening as they looked around the place.
"Get the kids!" you instructed, pointing to the other children tied up. "Steve, help me with him."
He quickly jogged over and began tearing at the flesh too before Derek's unconscious body slipped free. You and Steve gently eased the kid down to the ground before you gently shook his shoulders.
"Hey, hey, Derek. Wake up. Derek, wake up," you said.
His eyelids fluttered open and he gasped awake before promptly lurching away from you and retching. Black smoke poured out from his mouth, swirling up into the air before disappearing all within a matter of seconds.
You and Steve exchanged a 'what the actual fuck' look before you turned back to Derek.
"Easy, kid. You're okay. You're safe now. My name's-"
"You're Y/N. You're the badass chick who shot the monster at the barn," he croaked, wiping his mouth with a shaky hand.
Steve barked out a laugh. "She's definitely a badass."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smirk. "Yeah, yeah. Save the fan club for after we get the hell out of this place, okay?"
Derek kept staring at you with starstruck awe before Steve gently patted his shoulder.
"You're safe, bud. We're here to get you home," he reassured, his tone softening.
Derek then sat up and wrapped his arms around Steve's neck, hugging him tightly. Steve seemed taken back by the hug, but he soon closed his arms around the kid and hugged him in return.
You smiled watching him before slowly rising to your feet and looking around. The other kids were all now freed. They were confused and scared, but they were freed and they were alive.
Suddenly, a wet, choking gasp suddenly filled the air.
Your head snapped toward Vecna to find his body twitching where he was impaled as he struggled to breathe.
Huh, guess he wasn't quite dead yet.
You glanced toward the others and then your eyes landed on Joyce and Will who had just arrived, or more specifically, at the axe strapped to the older woman's back.
"Joyce," you called out, stepping toward her. "Can I borrow that?"
She didn't hesitate before unslinging the axe from her shoulder and passing it to you. Your fingers tightened around the wooden shaft as you marched toward Vecna.
His ruined face tilted toward you, black blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. It seemed like he was trying to say something as he gasped and spluttered but you simply raised the axe over your shoulder.
"This is for Eddie, you son of a bitch!"
The axe slammed into Vecna's neck with a sickening crunch, but you didn't stop. You swung again, and again. The blade bit deeper into his rotting flesh, black blood spraying until his head finally thudded to the floor.
You stumbled back a step, the weapon slipping from your fingers and hitting the ground. Eddie's face flashed behind your eyes – bloodied, pale and lifeless – as tears blurred your vision.
You got your revenge. Vecna was finally dead, but it didn't make you feel better... it didn't bring your brother back.
A choked sob escaped your lips and your knees nearly buckled.
Eddie.
You could still see him...
You could see the way he used to grin at you from across the trailer. The way he used to throw pillows at you from the top bunkbed. The way he used to drum his fingers against the counter while rambling about some new metal band he discovered. The way he used to stand beside you on stage as you traded off guitar riffs to a crowd of drunks but having the best time of your lives-
Someone's arms suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you against a firm chest.
"Hey. Hey," Steve's low voice murmured against your hair.
He rubbed slow circles between your shoulder blades while you cried silently in his arms, overwhelmed with emotions and memories that threatened to drown you.
"You did good, rockstar," he whispered. "Eddie would've loved that dramatic-ass scene you just pulled."
A wet laugh punched out of you despite the tears.
Yeah, he would've.
You pulled back just enough to wipe your face and compose yourself before you cleared your throat, nodding toward the others.
