Omfg This Concept ?!?!?!? I Absolutely Love It !!!

omfg this concept ?!?!?!? i absolutely love it !!!

The Nightmare Begins

Steve Harrington x Reader; The gang and Freddy Krueger

Word Count: 3163

Prompt: Storm

Warnings: My blog is 18+ regardless so minor DNI. Mentions of murder, child murders, cutting into skin, mental torment, arson, demonic deals, murder by arson, shady dealings, nightmares, light fluff and angst, the gang being the gang, established relationship between reader and Steve.

A/N: This is my first piece for Screamtober 2022. A big thank you to @cuddlykillers and @bride-of-jason-voorhees for the prompt list, it’s a great set for inspiration. I have toyed with theories around Freddy Krueger and Stranger Things for a while and wanted to link the two, so I hope I’ve done it justice. Freddy is probably my favourite horror character so doing this was a lot of fun.

As always, my work is not beta read and all my mistakes are my own. I do not give permission for this to be posted elsewhere either. Please feel free to like, comment and/or share. Feedback is always welcomed especially as this is a newer type of fan fiction for me. Who knows, if it works well I may use Screamtober to add some of Freddy’s battles against the gang. Enjoy!

Large intimidating flames danced against the backdrop of the indigo velvet sky. Seeping through the walls as it overtook the building, the fiery arms climbed, engulfing the building fully. Screams filled the air, painful ghastly shrieks that ripped at the core of those stood outside witnessing the horror. The sickly scent of burning flesh invaded the nostrils of orderlies and patients alike. Pennhurst Mental Hospital’s secure wing for the criminally insane was alight. It was as though Hell was claiming the building, with Satan on a mission to take the souls of those damned patients and the staff who mistreated them.

Senior warden Anthony Hatch stood in stoic observation. He knew that tensions were high between the orderlies and senior staff. Talks of strikes over pay deals that were pittance for the job they did. Especially in that section of the hospital. Some of the most dangerous people in the state of Indiana were kept in the high security wing. Now it was up in flames, orderlies and patients trapped in the concrete and iron structure. He knew that this would result in fatalities, the exits hitting auto lock once the alarm was triggered. Hatch closed his eyes listening to the symphony of horror, his smirk almost undetectable. He promised the board that this nonsense with the orderlies would be taken care of, even if it meant there were casualties. He didn’t let on that there would be a ‘tragedy’ leading to the death of so many people. They were just mere details to him. It cleared the way for progress; he would highlight flaws in the building and the government would happily pay towards a more modern development to prevent such an event from occurring again. This was progress for Hatch, even if it meant stepping over people to get there.

Victor sat, backed up, against the wall, he could feel the heat intensifying. He knew what was happening and that his time was coming. Others had been set free from their ‘prisons’ to try and help get the doors open but it was all for nothing as, one-by-one, they succumbed to their blazing murderer. The screams and smells all heightened by Victor’s blindness meant he could tell how close he was getting to his end. Known for curling up or rocking and singing to himself, Victor displayed none of that and rose to his feet, standing tall.

“We made a deal, a promise. Yet you went back on it!” he shouted out. His head moved swiftly from side to side, hoping to sense the presence. “We gave you our word, we did what you asked, and you took her from me!” he paused again. His mind cast back to when he was working as a school janitor in a suburban town in Springwood, Ohio. He and Virginia were struggling to live on his salary with a young child and one on the way. That’s when the dreams started, something dark offering him financial stability and a good life in exchange for the souls of the young. When he confided in Virginia, she told him to take the chance. It began shortly after. She made him the glove with knives, he fine-tuned it and every two weeks a child was lured in by Virginia offering cookies and milk. That’s when Victor would strike. Killing swiftly and then burning the bodies in the school incinerator, blood offered to the menace in his dreams.

The tally of children missing was causing distress and anger among the residents of Springwood. The police began to take the case more seriously and Victor was arrested after being seen talking to one of his last victims. However, there was not enough evidence to convict him. The parents threatened mob justice and Victor fled with his family to Hawkins, Indiana. Virginia had come into money, left to her by her uncle. They changed their names from Krueger to Creel. Virginia had always been known as Veronica Krueger but now she was Virginia Creel, Victor cast off the dark baggage he carried under the name Freddy Krueger as he became Victor Creel and young Harry Krueger became Henry Creel. This led to a series of events that landed Victor in Pennhurst.

A shadow emerged from the flames. Victor menacingly grinned as he sensed the shadow.

“My side of the bargain was not met, I will accept that, but I offer you eternal revenge with the power to hurt others where they cannot be saved – inflict mental pain on them and take them in their sleep. It’s time for Freddy to return and cast off the weak shell known as Victor Creel. Will you take this offer?” A sinister white line resembling a smile spread on the face of the shadow. Victor simply nodded as the flames ravaged his skin, his body almost melting in the fire. The deal was done.

Lightning tore through the night sky in Hawkins, thunder bellowing as rain fell heavily. Everyone was rushing from Steve’s car and Eddie’s van into Steve’s house to avoid getting wetter than they already were. Steve put the lights and heating on as the gang filed in. Y/N was about to enter the house and threw her hood back as she stood on the porch, her hair dripping at the ends. She felt an eerie motion in her gut, one that you get when something isn’t right. She turned to look around wondering if there was someone watching them. The sky was illuminated by a lengthy flash of lightning, its long pattern etched in the darkness – she shielded her eyes from the glare and sighed feeling relief seeing no one around.

“You ok Y/N?” Steve asked coming out and startling her. He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady and comfort her. The panic in Y/N’s eyes was completely out of character, Steve’s concern heightened at the expression she held.

“I… erm,” she looked around again before glancing back up at Steve, “it’s nothing” she conceded not convincing Steve and stepping away from him to enter his house. He placed his hands on his hips quickly scanning the surroundings trying to gain some clues as to why Y/N was so unnerved. Not seeing anything suspicious, he shrugged to himself and went inside.

Sitting in the living room, everyone was eating pizza and conversing while the television was on in the background. Robin’s eyes widened as the breaking news interrupted the sitcom nobody was really watching. Following her line of sight, Max sat up properly and turned up the sound. Silence fell upon the group as the reporter spoke.

‘As we stand here at Pennhurst Mental Hospital, you can see the chaos ensuing behind us. The high security wing is engulfed in flames. Firefighters have been struggling for the last hour to try and contain it, but their efforts have been futile so far. Senior Warden Anthony Hatch has issued an immediate statement expressing ‘deep horror’ as there are orderlies and patients trapped in there with little chance of survival. One of the patients in this wing is psychotic murderer Victor Creel, who horrifically killed his family, in 1959’…

The sound was turned down, the realisation that this couldn’t be good if a Creel was involved hit them. Their silence was such that you could hear a pin drop and it was making Eddie feel uncomfortable because the quiet had never been his friend – not when it meant he was alone with his thoughts.

“Are we going to talk about this? I mean this is serious shit” he voiced. Robin pressed her lips into a thin line; this was bad for them especially knowing that Vecna was regrouping somewhere.

“We need to stay vigilant” Robin’s voice was timid as she directed her look at Dustin. He nodded and pulled out his walkie talkie to contact Mike, El and Will. Max slid down from the sofa to the floor next to Lucas and Erica. They were due home in an hour, but she didn’t want to leave the cocoon of safety this surrogate family had all built between them.

“We’re back to being on high alert vigilance then” Eddie sighed.

“Do we never get a reprieve? When do we get to be normal kids?” Lucas complained. Feeling uneasy, Y/N hunched forward lightly to disguise her emotions, but Steve knew her body language too well and sat next her pulling her into a hug.

“So what’s the plan?” Erica quizzed not wanting to be a sitting duck.

“Get as much information on Creel as possible to piece together why Vecna has gone down this route” Dustin aired casually as he continued to view the silent report.

“You think he is sending a message?” Max asked.

“He’s playing games, he hated his father” Robin mused.

“So he’s saying what? – ‘I killed my father, now all bets are off and I’m coming for you’” Steve asked keeping his arms wrapped around Y/N who was yet to speak.

“What if it’s something else? Something darker? Every time it’s a new thing we are dealing with” Lucas asked.

“Vecna said he created it all” Max reminded; it prompted them all to think on unsuccessfully.

An hour later Steve left with the younger ones to drop them home. While Eddie was teaching Robin how to play Dungeons and Dragons, Y/N started cleaning the dishes in the sink. She still couldn’t shake off the feeling that someone was watching her. She glanced out of the window absentmindedly and nearly dropped the plate in shock. In the driveway, a man stood there (if you could call him that), his skin was all shrivelled, bubbled and burnt. The whites of his eyes were a contrast to his skin and the shadows that his dark fedora cast upon his face making his grin more menacing. His tattered red and green jumper hung quite loosely on his frame adding to his creepy appearance. He was staring directly at her and waving mockingly, the purposeful movement of the finger blades on his gloved hand filled her with absolute dread – it was almost like Vecna’s hand (more reminiscent of a claw). Y/N wanted to step back and look away, but it felt like her feet were glued to the spot she was in. A haunting sound of girls singing began to permeate the air.

1, 2 Freddy’s coming for you,

3, 4 better lock your door

5, 6 grab your crucifix

7, 8 better stay up late

9, 10 never sleep again

Y/N screamed as a hand landed on her shoulder, she turned around to see Robin and Eddie there. Both showing concern for her.

“Jesus Y/N, you gave us a fright” Eddie chuckled.

“Me – you snuck up on me” she replied.

“We called you several times, so we came in her. Eddie thought Vecna was striking again as you didn’t respond” Robin explained.

“I…” Y/N looked out of the window, but he was gone. “There was this… thing, man. I don’t know, he was just there. He had blades for fingers. It looked like Vecna’s hand”

“Was it Vecna?” Eddie quizzed with worry.

“No, he… he wasn’t Vecna” Y/N sighed. “It sounds stupid, I know” she conceded. Robin put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder comfortingly.

“After what we’ve all seen, nothing is stupid. Was there anything else that you saw or noticed about him?” Robin tried to coax.

“There was this sound of girls singing, little girls like they were playing in a schoolyard. I can’t quite remember but it was something like 1, 2… erm… Freddy’s coming for you, I think” she tried to recall. They all jumped as Steve opened the front door. He stopped in the kitchen doorway confused as to why all 3 of them were so jittery and waiting to be filled in.

The clock struck midnight; Y/N cuddled up to Steve in bed. He had been trying to calm her since he’d gotten home. He pressed his lips to her forehead softly in a supportive kiss. They didn’t need words to explain how they felt, their connection ran much deeper than that. The quietened actions, ashen look on her face, constant need for hugs and nervousness at every sound told Steve all he needed to know. He pulled her closer to him and let her melt into his hold. Quietly, he began to sing their song to her:

Babe I'm leaving I must be on my way The time is drawing near My train is going I see it in your eyes The love beneath your tears But I'll be lonely without you And I'll need your love to see me through So please believe me, my heart is in your hands And I'll be missing you

You know it's you, babe Whenever I get weary and I've had enough Feel like giving up You know it's you, babe Giving me the courage and the strength I need Please, believe that it's true Babe, I love you

For the first time that night, a genuine smile bloomed across her face as her boyfriend sang with a goofy grin on his face. He kissed her softly and promised her that he was there no matter what and it was the reassurance she needed in order to try and sleep.

Eddie tossed and turned as he slept on the couch, Robin turned over on the other couch as Eddie mumbled something incoherent.

“Eddie I’m trying to sleep” she complained as she tried to get comfortable yet again.

The fog seemed to deliberately obscure Eddie’s vision. Despite this, his other senses were heightened. The footsteps grew louder, hair stood on the nape of his neck. That feeling of complete dread filled him. The shrill sound of metal grating against metal was met with a wince by Eddie, he swallowed a gulp as a silhouette appeared in the fog – a figure of what could be described as a man in a fedora and with a claw for a hand – he called Eddie’s name ominously, his tone eerily dark and foreboding.

“Who are you?” Eddie called out bravely despite his brain telling him to turn and run. The figure laughed in response as he showed off his razor fingers, moving them slowly. The steps towards Eddie were deliberate.

“Introductions later Mr Munson. I hear you’ve been a busy boy” he taunted. Eddie remained wordless, not sure how to respond and Freddy picked up on this. “I mean my son already terrified you. Don’t you remember?” he asked pausing and pointing over to Eddie’s right. Chrissy Cunningham stood there looking worse than a zombie in Romero’s Dawn of the Dead. She was pointing to Eddie, accusing him of letting her die. He turned to run and hit the wall of chest of his unknown assailant.

“Here’s Freddy!!” he grinned parodying The Shining. Eddie used all his might to shove Freddy back as he swiped at him. The razored glove tore through the Hellfire t-shirt like a hot knife through butter, the tips nicking at his stomach in the process and drawing droplets of blood. Screaming out for help and in pain, Eddie tried to run and escape his attacker to no avail as he tripped over some vines on the ground. Freddy was over him in an instant, holding him in place by his throat. Eddie was begging for him to let him go while trying to fight him off.

“Oh I’m not going to kill you… yet. The chase hasn’t been as much fun as I hoped” his laugh was almost a deep cackle, “Or maybe I will. But let me leave a message for your friends” his features turned more sinister as he started scratching on Eddie’s chest using the blades to write. The pain was excruciating as Eddie cried out to anyone and everyone for help.

He was woken up by Robin, Y/N and Steve, all shaking him. He looked pale and frightened. Worse than when he was hiding after watching Chrissy and Patrick die. His breathing was ragged as he tried to make sense of the dream. It felt real, too real. He looked under the blanket at his chest and coiled into himself in horror – the shirt was hacked to pieces. It was real.

“Eddie… Eddie, what happened?” Steve’s calming tone helped Eddie settle down a little.

“This… this… this thing – he attacked me. He had a glove with knives for fingers” he explained looking directly at Y/N who would understand what he was saying.

“A red and green jumper and a fedora, his face all mangled” she spoke, and he nodded. Steve’s brow furrowed.

“Is this what you’ve been scared of all evening sweetheart?” Steve asked Y/N. She confirmed it with a quiet nod and Steve moved to wrap his arms around her, feeling the sudden urge to protect her.

“There’s more” Eddie announced revealing his shredded shirt and the cuts on his abdomen and chest as he removed his top. The name Freddy Krueger etched in Eddie’s chest in crimson drying liquid had them all gasping in fear. “He told me that Vecna is his son”

“How is that possible?” Robin asked, “Victor Creel was Vecna’s father – Nancy and I visited him” They were about to speak when the heard Dustin calling a code red on the walkie talkie. None of them felt they could move as they just listened to him.

“Guys this is a code red, I repeat a code red. I had a nightmare about this creepy dude with knives for fingers and I woke up with my bedding slashed. I got a message from Suzie too and it’s disturbing. Vecna’s father was a serial killer called Freddy Krueger. He changed his identity to Victor Creel and moved to Hawkins. It seems he’s back and working with his son. Max has been taken to hospital. Lucas said she had a nightmare and was left bleeding heavily from what looked like five knives across her back and side. We’ve got trouble on our hands” he confirmed breathless. Robin took the walkie talkie to speak with Dustin while Y/N sat next to Eddie with Steve hugging her from behind. Eddie ran his fingers over the cuts.

“It looks like we’re in for another fight, I was kinda bored anyway” Eddie joked. Steve chuckled but could feel how tense Y/N was. She knew he was different; they knew very little about him and he didn’t look like he belonged in the upside down either.

“I guess we had better gear up for another fight” Steve sighed. The sound of tormented laughter filled the room scaring them all. They heard a scratching sound and Robin tapped Steve’s shoulder frantically to get him to look at the wall. Words were rapidly being scratched into it:

You think you’ve got what it takes? I’m nothing like my son.

I AM ETERNAL!

His haunting message left them unnerved. This was going to be a fight like something they’d never faced before…

@cuddlykillers @bride-of-jason-voorhees @jobean12-blog @boxofbonesfic @mollygetssherlockcoffee @steveharringtonarchives @steveharringtonscarkeys @steveslittlesunflower @hawkins-high86 @hawkinsindiana @hawkinsdirtbag @fujiihime @aidinniram @tumblin-theworldaway @ladytarantula @angelulls @kristin813 @heyyimmisunderstood @selfdeprecatingnerd @protecteddiemunson4vr @frankie-mercury @harrington-love @expominds @flirtyandnerdyy @tomsvenom @dullsocietyy @greenteaandsagetea @funicidals @untitledarea @just-kinda-bored-blog @superfan-things @variant-lokitty @ronanceing @katetothemoon @syntheticavenger @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

i love zombie aus so much like-

What if like it’s the start of the whole Z thing and people are packing getting outta dodge. And Eddie comes to get Reader who doesn’t realize what’s going on? 🥺

yes let's get this party started tysm for ur request!!! zombie!au | eddie comes to get you at the start of the apocalypse ♡ fem!reader

You're lying on the floor in your bedroom when you hear wheels screeching against asphalt outside. It's a scorching hot day, too hot to want to move, and the floor feels much cooler than anywhere else. You can't bring yourself to get up and investigate, lazing over the wooden floor practically lackadaisical.

You wonder if it's your roommate coming home from her vacation, though why she'd be driving like a lunatic is anyone's guess.

"Always so dramatic," you murmur to yourself, distracted from the book you've held in hand. You let it fall flat to your chest with a huff.

Another screech, louder than the first. You raise your brows and gaze toward the open window as a door opens and promptly slams.

Then, with enough urgency to have you heart in your throat, Eddie starts to shout your name. None of his usual care, only your name on repeat and a hammering at the door downstairs. You live in a simple three bedroom home that's been converted into two apartments, so if he wants to see you he has to wait, or do as he's doing now — harass your downstairs neighbours. They must let him in, because by the time you've scrambled to the window he's not outside the door.

Your name up the stairs. His thundering footsteps.

You throw open your bedroom door and race down the hall to meet him.

"I'm coming, Eddie!" you call, and then add, "It's okay!" for good measure. He sounds freaked.

He hears your voice and stops shouting.

Your hands tremble as you turn the key the wrong way. His shouting has given you a horrible dose of anxiety, worried maybe someone's been hurt. It's the kind of urgency that comes with emergencies — you're expecting to open the door and have him drag you out to the hospital.

"Hey, baby, what's the matter?" you ask as you pull open the door.

Eddie doesn't even look at you. He pushes past you, the roughest he's ever treated you outside of play wrestling, and your hips bump the sideboard behind. Everything rattles.

"Come and help me," he calls.

He bursts into your room. You follow, chest pounding staccato under your hand. "Help you what? Eddie, what the fuck?"

"There's these-" He throws his gaze over his shoulder at you, brown eyes usually so soft sharpened by panic, by a need to move. "We have to get the fuck out of here."

You stare at him. "What happened, baby?"

Eddie gets wound up by everything. Little things sometimes blow really big, and he can't articulate what's bothering him so he just starts yelling.

"We have to go. We have to- I already got some shit in the van, but you need your clothes, and we need food."

"Food?"

That's what clues you in. That and Eddie's complete lack of respect for your wardrobe. He throws the door open and grabs all of your clothes. Party clothes, knit wear, stuff you haven't worn in years.

"What are you-"

"We'll take it all. You can get rid of what you don't want after."

"Tell me what's happening," you demand, foot tapping.

Eddie turns to you, takes you by the shoulders, and frowns. "You trust me. I know you trust me. Pack your things, things you can't live without. Pack them now." He finally cracks, sees the panic on his face mirrored on your own. "There are fucking monsters out there."

You want to laugh because it's an unconvincing concept. Monsters, like you're in a movie, like you're in one of his make-believe fantasy games..

"Eddie-"

"Pack your things."

Eddie almost dives under your bed to grab your backpack, forcing it into your hands. His aren't shaking like yours, but they're frenetic. He moves like he might grab your wrists and then leaves your bedroom entirely.

You take a step to follow him.

"I'm serious! Pack your shit! We have to go," he yells. The kitchen door creaks open. Your fridge unseals and there's a great scraping sound like all the shelves are being pulled out. This continues onto the cupboards; cereal shook like rain on wood, the metal clunk of heavy tin cans, the metallic clash of the cutlery drawer being pulled against its stopper.

You bite your lip hard in an attempt to force yourself back to reality, but there's no reality to go to. There can't be monsters. It's not something that would happen.

"This isn't a funny joke," you say angrily, too quiet for him to hear. You repeat yourself as you walk down the hall and into the kitchen, which he's all but trashed. "This isn't a funny joke. This is mean. I don't know if you had a bad fucking whitey or you've been reading too many of those weird books, but this isn't funny."

Eddie only turns to look at you where he'd been searching your kitchen cabinets when your voice cracks.

"I'm not joking."

He says it absolutely.

You let him lead you back into your bedroom. He takes the backpack from your hands and opens it wide, offering you the two sides so he can tip your underwear into the bag. Socks and panties fall all over the floor and he grabs them without a joke, or an oggling, or even a salacious, smarmy smirk.

"Reefer Rick calls me this morning. He says, Eds, you know that fucking rabies thing they had in Detroit? I told him I didn't know what the fuck he was talking about."

Eddie moves to your nightstand, grabs all your meds and keepsakes and stuffs them into the bag.

"He says okay, but you heard about martial law in Russia, right? I said don't be a fucking asshole, everyone has. Martial law because of the virus, the virus that was making people hostile? That shit is real. They had it in Russia, they had it in China, they have it here. Michigan, Illinois, the people are going fucking crazy and eating each other, baby."

He's moved now to your t-shirts. He doesn't bother putting them in the bag, just has them in a pile on the ground. He adds your trousers. He doesn't bother with your skirts.

"What else do you need?"

You stare at him.

"We have to leave, sweetheart," he says desperately. "If it happens in Ohio or Kentucky, we're fucked. We'll be trapped."

"If what happens?" you ask miserably.

"It's a sickness. Rick says it's a sickness, and he said they fucking killed some guy in Indianapolis who had it. I turn on the radio and-"

Somebody starts screaming in the apartment downstairs.

Eddie pales. You grow incredibly still.

"Carry as much as you can," he says. "If we can, we'll come back."

Eddie grabs the box of pilfered foods from the kitchen and you follow him down the stairs.

Whoever's screaming won't stop. It's a chilling sound. Loud, repetitive screams. Eddie holds his finger over his lips and he looks so domineering you can't help it, you start crying then and there. He inclines his head to the door, listening for movement, and when there isn't any he walks straight past the apartment door and to the main building door.

He opens it and gestures quickly for you to leave. You walk fast out of the door and down the single step. Eddie's van is still running on the curb.

You open the door and climb in, slamming your head against the roof in your hurry. Eddie shoves the box of food at your feet and runs around the hood. He gets in, he closes the door, and he waits.

You lock your door. You lean over Eddie to lock his and can't make yourself sit back down.

He takes your face into his hand. He isn't gentle, but he's far from cruel.

Eddie scrubs away your tears with his thumb.

"Do you think we should go see what's..." you begin to ask.

He looks like he wants to say no. It's shocking. It hurts, thinking that Eddie wouldn't go make sure someone's okay. But you find yourself too scared to do it yourself, and you realise he's afraid. You're both petrified.

"We have to," you whisper.

"I have to keep you safe." He speaks an inch from your face.

"She's not... I mean. She's not dangerous. She's scared. What if it was me?"

"But it's not you."

"If," you say slowly, brain numb with overstimulation, "it were me. And somebody could help me. Wouldn't you want them to?"

You've no clue what's wrong or why she's screaming. These monsters he's talking about, she probably just saw them on TV.

Eddie nods. "You stay here."

"Idiot," he chastises, taking your hand.

You let him get out of the car and wait a few seconds before you follow. He glares at you and stops. You both stand there for a moment, willing one another to do what the other wants.

"I'm not gonna let you go alone."

You look down at your joined hands and squeeze his fingers. You take a very deep breath.

-

requests are open if you want more of this au! ♡

real 🫤

Season 3 of obx better bring me more Topper fics. Idc that he's a classist, privileged white boy. I'm tryna smash

There's something about our incompatibility that I wanna explore

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️😽😽😽😻😻😻😻🙇🏾‍♀️🙇🏾‍♀️🙇🏾‍♀️🙇🏾‍♀️🫵🏾🫵🏾🫵🏾🫵🏾

A Helping Hand

Eddie Munson x fem!reader [1.7k] based off of this tiktok I happened to come across.

Eddie had been sitting with his hand on the back of the diner bench for at least twenty minutes now.

It was awful, his hand felt clammy, his palm was stuck to the old vinyl and he couldn’t stop his fingers from tapping out random beats, plucking at invisible strings every time you moved.

That was the problem, you see? You were beside him - a bold choice, Eddie had thought to himself with an aching chest, as he slid into the bench beside you rather than across - and he didn’t know what else he was supposed to do about it.

It had taken the boy almost three weeks to build up the courage to ask you out, and now that he’d gotten you here, he wasn’t really sure you were even aware it was a date. Because you’d both been sitting with Steve and Robin, a casual affair in Steve’s backyard with a fire going and a joint to share.

Steve had nudged him too many times and Robin's eyes were wide and insistent as she looked from him to you and back again - all unbeknownst to yourself, of course.

Then the day turned to evening, the fire dwindled out and suddenly none of you were feeling as floaty as you had. Not as brave either, because when Eddie looked at the way you were stretched out on a blanket on Harrington’s yard, skin kissed with the sun from the day and a sweater that wasn’t your own pulled down over your hands, he didn’t feel as confident anymore.

But Steve had yawned, a terribly fake noise that had Eddie rolling his eyes and the boy stretched, slapping Eddie on the back of the head with a well aimed palm.

“Ask her, you idiot,” he’d hissed under his breath and Jesus Christ almighty, Eddie hated his friends.

So he’d turned to you at the last minute, just before you were about to head in the other direction and walk down the street back to your own house. Eddie called out, voice a little too sharp and too high and god, he was panicking. But he asked you if you wanted to grab some food and he didn’t even mention the word ‘date’, he just blinked and then you were in the front seat of his van, looking far too pretty to be there.

It was all a bit of a blur, really.

‘Cause Eddie had liked you for a while, a long time, actually. Almost a year. He’d met you through Robin, held his breath when he realised you didn’t have a crush on Steve like all the other girls and then one day after work, you showed up at the arcade with the kids and the rest of the gang in a Dio t-shirt, and well, the boy was a goner.

And Eddie knew how to flirt, okay? He did. He was charming and charismatic and he always made his friends laugh. He saw the way the cheerleaders looked at him when their boyfriends were too busy playing basketball, he saw the fluttered lashes and the roaming gazes, the way their cheeks flushed and their lips twisted when he gave them a smile and a wink.

But this was different because it was you and oh my god, Eddie really cared about what you thought of him. He liked the way you tilted your head to the side when you listened to him ramble, he loved the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. And when you were tired, he could always tell, ‘cause you’d play with your earring and seek him out, always eager to push your cheek to his shoulder and slip into the background of whatever chaos the kids had pulled you into.

Eddie adored it. He adored you.

You made his stomach jump with nerves, his heart thump and thud against his ribcage until he felt like his bones rattled everytime you walked into the room.

Which is why he was having a really hard time with the way you were nestled into the nook of his body, toying with the last few fries on your plate as you spoke about work and how you hated your boss. Your shoulder was pressed to his chest and his arm was a ghost around the vinyl bench, just shy of wrapping around you.

That’s all he wanted to do. Sure, he’d thought sinfully indecent things of you, especially when he was alone at night and he couldn’t help but wrap his hand around his hard length to tug at himself while he whispered your name. But then he’d see you the next day in a cute little sundress and goddamn, he’d be a blushing mess. Harrington had every right to laugh at him, he was a wreck of a man because of you.

Putting his arm around your shoulders would be enough.

It was obvious to others, to the outsiders looking in, how they easily saw the way you gazed up at the boy, eyes adoring, smile sticky with fondness. They watched how you leaned into him when he spoke, how you traced the curves of his lips, the lines of his jaw and nose with your gaze as told you a story that had you enraptured.

But maybe Eddie was too oblivious to it, too shy to properly look, maybe too caught up in the way he was staring at you to see how you looked at him.

Maybe that’s why he never noticed Max at the table behind you both, the redhead squeezed into an adjoining booth with Lucas, El and Dustin, all four of them whispering and snickering into milkshakes of every flavour.

You were talking softly about how you needed to close up at work tomorrow, how you hated doing it alone because the nights were getting darker and your car was still in the shop. You were so warm, pressed into his side like you couldn’t get close enough, looking up at him through your lashes until you heard, until you felt the way the boy’s breath got stuck in his chest.

Eddie gripped the bench behind you a little tighter and cleared his throat.

“I could, uh, I could pick you up if you wanted,” he told you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip a little nervously. “Give you a ride home?”

You smiled, nose scrunched, eyes bright and Eddie melted.

“Yeah?” You asked him, shoulder nudging under his own a little more. You were wedged into his side, dying for him to pull you closer. “You’d do that?”

Eddie would do anything for you, didn’t you know?

“Sure I would, sweetheart,” he quipped, pushing at the straw in his empty glass. His hand was still on the seat behind you and his heart was still hammering. Could you hear it? Could you feel it? “Just let me know what time.”

You smiled, like you had a secret, like there was something Eddie didn’t know and he felt like absolute mush when you looked up at him with it, lashes kissing in the corners of your eyes, lips rosy, pretty as a fucking picture.

“Why don’t you come a little earlier?” You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, tugged at the hem of your dress and god, Eddie wondered, could you be nervous too? “It’s quiet before close, and there’s this book I’ve been meaning to show you. I think you’d like it.”

“Yeah?” Eddie swore the sun outside shone a little brighter. It was almost eight thirty and the sky was black but Eddie could feel the warmth of summer on his face when you smiled at him like that.

Maybe it was magic. Maybe it was just you.

“Yeah,” you grinned, popping the last fry in your mouth and pushing back into his arm, hinting, hoping, wishing. “S’got something to do with elves, a hidden kingdom and a lot of swords.”

“Sounds like my kind of party,” Eddie agreed and his voice was so much softer than it needed to be but you were pushed up against him and you smelled real good, like peaches and brown sugar.

If Steve was here, he’d be on the floor laughing at him. He was sure he was pink in the cheeks, curls messy with the way he kept running his hands through them.

And then.

And then.

He felt a small hand grab the sleeve of his leather jacket, making him jump and look back. Eddie finally spotted his small friends, the little redhead grinning at him with knowing eyes as she lifted his arm and coaxed it over your shoulder.

Fucking Mayfield.

Eddie panicked, let out a quiet swear but then you were leaning against him, eyes as wide as his own but so happy to push yourself into his embrace a little further.

His arm drooped, relaxing over the curve of your shoulder and god, it felt like he could finally breathe again. He smiled down at you, cheeks rosy, lips twisted prettily to hide his grin and Eddie wanted to turn around a buy the younger girl the biggest slice of cake the diner had.

But he didn’t want to move - couldn’t, not even if he tried. You were a lovely, warm weight against him, hair tickling his chin as you kept up your chatter of books you thought he would like. And Eddie listened to every word, smiling fondly at each suggestion, humming happily when you looked up at him for an answer.

And just when the boy thought he couldn't win any more prizes, you pushed your now empty plate away and took his other hand that was laying on the table in your own. You held it like it was what you normally did, like his touch wasn’t setting your heart on fire and you bit back a grin when you saw Eddie’s eyes widened, when he inhaled a little too sharply.

But you kept talking, sweet and soft, just for him, your fingers mapping out the nooks and crannies of each of his rings, warm palm, guitar string scars on each fingertip. Eddie let you, mesmerised by your touch, by how much smaller your hand was compared to his own.

The arm around your shoulder only pulled you closer.

LIARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR 😾😾😾😾😾😔😔😔🫵🏾😮🫵🏾🫵🏾🫵🏾🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️

after 40,000 years i’m finally gonna post chapter 3 of “we’re going to summer camp bitches!” and another part (not the season 3 part 2 chapter 🫤) of eddie/steve x platonic! (007) experiment! reader between today and tomorrowwwww 🤭🤭🤭

it needs to be talked about

don’t mind me, i’m just spreading my “what if nancy and eddie were besties” agenda