20 dollar nosebleed

My best friend, Nancy Wheeler, was the kind of person who had her entire life color coded by sophomore year.

If you looked at her from the outside, she was perfect. She had the grades, the neat pastel sweaters, and that hyper focused look in her eyes that meant she was either going to win an award or completely tear down a local institution. She was my best friend, and for a long time, I tried really hard to want the things she wanted. We would sit on her bedroom floor, the scent of her expensive floral perfume hanging heavy in the air, while she talked about college applications and journalism ethics. I would nod and try to feel the same spark.

But Hawkins, Indiana, was downright suffocating. It was a town where everyone looked at the ground when they walked, pretending nothing weird ever happened here, pretending the woods weren't full of ghosts.

Nancy dealt with it by trying to control everything. I dealt with it by feeling like I was wearing a costume that was three sizes too small.

Then I met Robin Buckley.

It happened at the Family Video, which had become my makeshift sanctuary mostly because it smelled like cheap plastic and old popcorn, and nobody expected anything from me there. I was flipping through the cassette section, staring at a tape of The Smiths that someone had misplaced near the pop charts, when this girl with messy hair and a faded oversized jacket practically crashed into the divider next to me.

"Don't buy that," she said, without even introducing herself. Her words came out in a fast, chaotic tumble, like she had a million thoughts and her mouth was just trying to keep up. "I mean, buy it if you want to wallow in a depressing British void, which, honestly, fair choice for a Tuesday in Hawkins. But if you actually want something that makes you feel alive and also slightly terrified, you need this."

She dropped a tape into my hand. It was a bootleg mix, the tracklist scrawled in frantic, jagged handwriting.

"I'm Robin," she said, leaning against the counter and looking at me with this intense, unfiltered curiosity that Nancy would have found completely improper. "You're always in here looking like you're plotting a prison break. I respect that."

Looking at Robin was like looking at a completely different map of the world. Where Nancy was all straight lines, pressed collars, and predictable trajectories, Robin was a beautiful, sprawling mess of sharp edges and loud music. She didn't care about the high school social ladder- she seemed to exist entirely outside of it, operating on some secret frequency that you desperately wanted to tune into.

"I'm not plotting a prison break," I said, a small smile tugging at my mouth as I looked down at the tape. "Just looking for a change of scenery."

"Good," Robin said, her eyes flashing with a bright, reckless energy. "Because the scenery around here sucks. Let's go change it."

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After that Tuesday at Family Video, Robin Buckley became a habit I didn't want to break.

Hanging out with her was like trying to drink from a firehose, but in the best way possible. I started spending my afternoons in the passenger seat of her car, riding aimlessly past the edge of town while she blasted heavy metal mixtapes that made the floorboards vibrate. I traded in the neat, Nancy-approved blouses for an oversized 80s rock band crop top and scuffed black Converse. I felt like I was finally exhaling.

I started bringing my battered 35mm camera everywhere we went. Robin was the perfect subject because she never posed. I’d snap candid photos of her leaning against brick walls or throwing rocks into the quarry- unposed, casual intimacy captured on film. I loved the shallow depth of field, the way it blurred out the dreary, suffocating backdrop of Hawkins and left only Robin’s sharp, chaotic focus. Sometimes the wind would whip my hair across my face, and I’d have to push my sunglasses up my nose to check the viewfinder, but she never rushed me. She just let me see the world the way I wanted to see it.

But because I am an inherently optimistic idiot, I decided I couldn't keep my two lives compartmentalized forever. I wanted my oldest friend and my newest obsession to understand each other. I called it The Great Experiment.

It took place on a Thursday afternoon at the diner. Nancy arrived fifteen minutes early, claiming a booth by the window. By the time I sat down, she already had a pristine notebook open, uncapping a fine-tip pen to review the layout for the school paper.

Robin arrived ten minutes late. She slid into the booth next to me, bringing with her the scent of cigarettes, stale coffee, and something that smelled faintly of rebellion.

"Nancy, this is Robin," I said, trying to project a confidence I absolutely did not feel. "Robin, Nancy."

"Hey," Robin said. She slouched against the red vinyl, her eyes darting over Nancy’s clean sweater and meticulously organized notes with a look of mild, anthropological fascination.

Nancy offered a smile that was perfectly polite and entirely rigid. "It's nice to meet you, Robin. She's told me a lot about you. Do you work at the video store full time, or are you looking at colleges?"

It was the classic Nancy Wheeler opening move- assess the ambition, categorize the threat level.

Robin laughed, a sharp, barking sound that made a guy in the next booth turn around. "Colleges? God, no. The idea of paying thousands of dollars to sit in a room and have old men tell me about books I can read for free at the library sounds like a scam. I’m thinking I’ll just absorb knowledge through photosynthesis and eventually become a cryptid that lives in the woods."

Nancy blinked. Her pen hovered above her notebook. For a second, her brain actively short circuited trying to process whether Robin was joking. "Right. Well. It's always good to have... a plan."

"What's your plan, Wheeler?" Robin leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands, a wicked glint in her eye. "Let me guess. Journalism degree. Nice internship. Marry someone who wears a tie on weekends. Have a perfectly symmetrical house."

"There is nothing wrong with wanting stability," Nancy said, her voice dropping in temperature. Her spine stiffened, going rod straight.

"Didn't say there was," Robin countered, completely unbothered by the frostbite radiating from across the table. "Just sounds a little like being buried alive, but you do you."

I sat frozen between them, gripping my glass of water like it was a life preserver. I looked at Nancy, with her fierce, white knuckled grip on the steering wheel of her life, and then at Robin, who had happily thrown her steering wheel out the window miles ago.

"So," I blurted out, my voice cracking slightly. "Did you guys know the diner started serving cherry pie again?"

Neither of them looked at me. The Great Experiment was officially a catastrophic failure, and as I sat there hiding behind my sunglasses, I realized the terrifying truth that this was a pipe dream. It was never going to work. How could I be so stupid- to think that I could live a life like Robin when my life seemed to have been destined to be bland and boring and oh god- I can't stop spiraling.

But Robin and Nancy aren't looking at each other- they're looking at me. Expecting me to say something- to be pulled in one direction or the other.

I won't pick between them- but I can't let Nancy hold me back on what feels right. Can't let anyone hold me back from that.

This feels like it’s going to be a long and irritating journey.

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It was past midnight when the kitchen phone rang, the muffled, shrill sound cutting through the dead quiet of the house. I bolted upright, my heart slamming into my ribs. I crept down the stairs on bare feet, desperate to catch it before it woke my family.

I grabbed the receiver on the third ring.

"Hello?" I whispered, looking over my shoulder at the dark hallway.

"Get to your window. I'm in the bushes," Robin's voice crackled through the line, breathless and sharp. Before I could even ask if she was losing her mind, the line went dead.

I scrambled back upstairs, gently unlocking my bedroom window and pushing the screen upward. The cool, damp Indiana night air rushed in, and a second later, a pair of hands gripped the sill. Robin hoisted herself up and tumbled over the frame, landing in a chaotic heap of oversized denim and tangled limbs on my floor.

She smelled like cheap beer, clove cigarettes, and heavily like sweat. Her eyes were completely blown out, reflecting the dim glow of my desk lamp.

"Are you insane?" I hissed, hastily locking the window behind her. "If my family wakes up, I’m dead. Literally dead. Nancy will have to write my obituary."

"I don't care. I mean, I do care, I don't want you to get murdered by your parents, but you don't understand," Robin stammered. She stood up, immediately pacing the small square of my bedroom, her hands flying around like she was trying to catch invisible thoughts out of the air. "My brain is melting. My actual, physical gray matter has dissolved. I think my DNA just mutated."

I sat down on the edge of my bed, pulling my knees up to my chest. "Robin, breathe. What happened? Did you get into a car wreck?"

"Worse. Or better. Infinite times better," she said, stopping dead in her tracks and staring at me with a terrifying amount of intensity. She dropped onto the mattress next to me, grabbing my forearms. "I went to The Hideout. This total dive warehouse out past the trailer park. There was a show. A real, underground, face-melting show."

"In Hawkins?"

"Yes! And there was this band playing. Corroded Coffin," she whispered, the name rolling off her tongue like a secret code. "And the guitarist. The frontman. His name is Eddie Munson."

"Who is that? I haven't seen him around school."

"Because he doesn't go to school. He’s older…he graduated a while ago and just stayed around to play music, well not just here, he's been all over the United States.. he even has a place in New York he crashes at. Think it's his brothers…" Robin said, her voice dropping into a fierce, reverent hush. "He’s got this wild mane of hair, denim shredded to pieces, rings on every finger, and when he plays, it’s like... it’s like he’s violently ripping the sky open. He doesn't care about the petty high school drama, or the high school paper, or the suffocating, predictable neatness of this entire town. He exists in the real world. He looked right at me from the stage, and I swear to God, I felt like I finally found someone who speaks the same language."

She let go of my arms and leaned back against my pillows, staring up at the ceiling with a dazed, reckless smile.

"He talked to me after the set," she continued, her words tumbling out in a soft, manic rush. "He shared a cigarette with me on the hood of his van. We talked about bootleg tapes, and how this town is a cultural wasteland, and he didn't look at me like I was a freak. It's over. The old timeline is dead. My life is forever changed."

She turned her head to look at me, her eyes flashing in the dark. "We have to go back next weekend. You’re coming with me. You have to see him. You have to see them. It's a whole different world, and we're going into it."

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The rest of the week crawled by in a blur of fluorescent lights and tedious lectures. Nancy spent our lunch periods talking about upcoming midterms and her latest investigative piece for the school paper, completely oblivious to the shift that had occurred in my bedroom at two in the morning. I tried to pay attention, to be the supportive best friend she expected, but my mind kept drifting back to Robin’s wild eyed description of that dark warehouse and Eddie Munson.

By Friday, the school felt less like an educational institution and more like a waiting room. I was walking down the crowded hallway after chemistry when a hand suddenly snatched the strap of my backpack and yanked me into the alcove by the broken water fountain.

It was Robin. She looked like she hadn't slept since Tuesday, her eyes bright with a manic, hyper focused energy.

"Hypothetical question," she said, leaning in close so the passing freshmen wouldn't overhear. "If I told you I was thinking about starting a band, what would your reaction be? Scale of one to ten, ten being absolute euphoria, one being a Nancy Wheeler level sigh."

I leaned back against the brick wall, a small smile breaking through my Friday fatigue. "I'd say it would be incredibly cool. Honestly, a ten. You know more about music than anyone else in this entire town, Robin. You'd be amazing."

"Great. Fantastic. Glad we're on the same page," she said, her words speeding up into a familiar, chaotic tumble. "Because it's not hypothetical. I already started one. Well, me and a couple of guys from the jazz band who are entirely sick of playing Sousa marches. We've been practicing in a basement for exactly four days."

I stared at her, trying to process the sheer speed of her life. "Four days? Robin, you can't just-"

"And," she interrupted, capping my mouth with her hand for a split second before dropping it, her eyes wider than ever, "we have our first gig. Tomorrow night. Opening for Corroded Coffin."

My jaw dropped. "Are you serious? Eddie's band?"

"The very same," she beamed, practically vibrating against the lockers. "He came into the video store yesterday to return a horror flick, we started talking about trashy cinema, I mentioned the basement sessions, and he just... invited us. He said the local scene needs fresh blood and he likes a gamble. It's happening. It's completely real."

The bell rang, signaling the start of the next period, and the hallway began to clear out around us. Robin grabbed my arms, her excitement suddenly giving way to a flash of sheer, unadulterated terror.

"You have to be there," she pleaded, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I am going to completely pass out or throw up on stage if I don't see you in the crowd. Promise me you'll come."

Looking at her- so completely terrified but absolutely radiant with a purpose she’d never had before- I knew the old, safe routine of my weekends was officially over. The thought of heading out to a sketchy warehouse full of older, leather clad rock fans made my stomach twist into knots, but Robin was diving headfirst into a completely different universe, and there was no way I was going to let her do it alone.

"I'll be there," I said.

"Yes!" she yelled, a little too loud for the now-empty hallway, before turning and sprinting toward her Spanish class.

I stood by the water fountain for a moment, the silence of the corridor settling around me. I had promised to go. Now, all I had to do was figure out how to sneak out two nights in a row without making Nancy, or my parents, suspect that my world was splitting wide open.

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Saturday morning arrived with a glaring, crisp sunlight that felt entirely too bright for my current state of mind. Nancy had organized a "downtown day," which usually meant dragging me along to look at boring cardigans or browse the stationery store for more fancy pens.

We ended up at a dusty, cramped thrift store tucked away on the corner of Main Street. It smelled like old paper, mothballs, and forgotten decades. Nancy hovered near the entrance, looking at a rack of vintage trench coats with a critical, investigative eye, while I immediately drifted toward the back where the truly bizarre stuff lived.

I was systematically tearing through a rack of oversized flannel shirts, trying to find something that looked effortlessly cool for Robin's show, when my hand snagged on a soft piece of fabric.

I pulled it out. It was a black, short-sleeved dress, slightly cinched at the waist, covered from collar to hem in a repeating pattern of tiny, quirky gray bats. It was weird, slightly gothic, and completely ridiculous for a normal Tuesday in Hawkins. But for a Saturday night in a dark warehouse opening for Corroded Coffin? It was perfect.

"You cannot be serious," Nancy's voice drifted over my shoulder.

I turned around, holding the dress up against myself. "Come on, Nance. It’s amazing."

Nancy sighed, crossing her arms and looking at the bats with genuine bewilderment. "It looks like a costume from a low budget horror movie. Where would you even wear that? Certainly not to the newspaper dinner next week."

"Just... around," I mumbled, slipping the hanger over my arm, determined to buy it anyway. "It's good to have options."

"We need to talk," she said, leaning against the clothing rack. "Seriously. You’ve been completely somewhere else all week. I brought over the college catalogs for Emerson and Boston University days ago, and you haven't even opened them."

Nancy didn't drop it. Instead, her expression shifted from amused disapproval to that hyper-focused, worried look she got whenever she thought someone wasn't living up to their potential. She stepped closer, her voice dropping into a serious, calculated tone.

I felt a familiar, suffocating weight settle onto my chest. "Nancy, the deadline isn't for months. We have time."

"No, we don't," she insisted, her eyes locking onto mine with fierce intensity. "The early application window closes before you know it. If we don't start planning now, you’re going to miss the boat. You’ve been spending all your time at the video store, and now you're buying... bat dresses. It’s like you’re actively trying to avoid thinking about next year."

She wasn't trying to be mean…she was being herself. She was trying to steer the ship because she genuinely believed that if you didn't have a five-year plan mapped out in color-coded ink, you would simply dissolve into the background of Hawkins forever.

"I'm not avoiding anything," I said quietly, looking down at the black fabric in my hands. "I'm just trying to figure out what I actually want. Not just what looks good on a transcript."

Nancy blinked, looking slightly hurt, her rigid posture softening just a fraction. "I just don't want you to get left behind. I want us to go to the city. Together. You're my best friend, and I feel like you're slipping away into a completely different world."

She was right, of course. The divide between us was growing wider by the second, and the secret of tonight’s rock show was sitting like a brick between us. I wanted to tell her, but looking at her nice sweater and her perfect, organized life, I knew she wouldn't understand the appeal of a sweaty warehouse, loud guitars, and a guy named Eddie Munson.

"I'm not slipping away, Nance," I lied gently, clutching the dress a little tighter. "I'm just trying on a different outfit."

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The front door had barely clicked shut behind me before my mom's voice drifted out from the kitchen.

"Is that you? Are you going back out with Nancy tonight? Her mom said something about a dinner next week."

I froze in the hallway, clutching my backpack tightly against my stomach so the fabric of the thrifted bat dress wouldn't rustle. "No, not Nancy," I called back, keeping my voice as casual and conversational as possible while actively backing toward the stairs. "I’m going over to a friend's house. Robin. The girl from the video store. We're just hanging out."

"Robin? I don't think I know her. What does her father do?"

"Uh, stuff. He does stuff. I gotta go get ready, love you!"

Before the inevitable interrogation could properly launch, I sprinted up the stairs, threw open my bedroom door, and shoved the bat dress into the absolute bottom of my backpack, burying it under a denim jacket.

Five minutes later, I was out the door and on my way to the other side of town, the heavy weight of the bag bouncing against my spine like a countdown clock.

Robin’s house was entirely different from the Wheeler residence. Where Nancy’s house smelled of expensive potpourri and quiet expectations, Robin’s room smelled of old paper, spilled soda, and stale clove cigarettes. It was a beautiful disaster area. Every square inch of the walls was covered in taped-up setlists, polaroids of random crowds, and hand-drawn flyers for bands I’d never heard of.

When I walked in, Robin was in the middle of a full-blown existential crisis, pacing the floorboards in her underwear and a frayed, oversized Corroded Coffin t-shirt.

"I can't do it," she said immediately, without a greeting, her hands flying into the air. "The jazz band guys are completely losing their minds. Phil forgot his drumsticks at school and had to break into his own locker, and I’m pretty sure our bass player is currently having an allergic reaction to a peanut butter sandwich. We are going to be a public execution set to a four-four beat."

"You're going to be fine," I said, dropping my backpack on her unmade bed and unzipping it. "And look what I found at the thrift store today. Nancy hated it, which means it’s perfect."

I pulled out the black dress, shaking out the wrinkles. The tiny gray bats seemed to come alive under her flickering desk lamp.

Robin stopped pacing. Her jaw dropped, and a slow, wicked grin spread across her face. "Oh my god. It’s magnificent. It’s like Morticia Addams went to a bowling alley. Put it on right now."

I slipped into the closet to change, and when I stepped back out, Robin was already rummaging through a plastic tackle box full of makeup. She dragged me down onto the floor next to her, her face inches from mine as she inspected the look.

"Okay, the dress is a ten, but we need to de-Hawkins you," she declared, uncapping a stubby, heavily used black eyeliner pencil. "Close your eyes. Don't blink. If I poke you, it’s because the adrenaline is making my hands twitch."

I held perfectly still while Robin worked. She didn't have Nancy's meticulous, steady hand- she applied the makeup with a chaotic, artistic frenzy, smudging the edges with her thumb when she was done.

"Precision is for the weak," she muttered, stepping back to admire her work. "Perfect. You look like you’ve survived a very chic shipwreck."

Next came the music. Robin slammed a cassette into her tape deck- some loud, frantic post-punk band that made the small room feel even smaller- and began tearing through her own wardrobe. She settled on a pair of torn fishnets, a leather skirt she’d clearly stolen from someone older, and a dark denim vest covered in metal studs.

As she laced up her combat boots, the manic energy in the room shifted. The nervous rambling faded into a tense, electric focus. We stood in front of her full-length mirror, side by side, looking like two people who had absolutely no business living in Hawkins, Indiana.

"Hey," Robin said quietly, looking at my reflection instead of me. The music thumped against the floorboards. "Thanks for coming. Seriously. If I look out there and just see a sea of leather jackets and anger, I’m going to die. But if I see the bats, I’ll be fine."

"I'm not going anywhere," I said.

Robin grabbed her guitar case from the corner of the room, throwing the strap over her shoulder with a sharp, definitive nod. "Alright. Let's go ruin our lives."

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The Hideout was exactly what I expected, only louder. It was a cavernous, low ceilinged warehouse out past the trailer park, packed to the brim with older crowds wearing battered denim, leather jackets, and a collective attitude of aggressive indifference. The air was thick with that same smell that kept following Robin- cheap beer and clove cigarettes. I stood near the middle of the room, feeling small but entirely alive, the music from the PA system vibrating straight through the soles of my shoes.

Then, the stage lights kicked on- harsh, bleeding red- and the room went quiet.

Robin walked out, clutching her guitar like a shield. Behind her, the guys from the jazz band looked absolutely petrified, the drummer tapping his sticks together with a visibly shaking hand. Robin stood dead center in front of the microphone, her eyes darting frantically across the sea of blank, waiting faces. For a horrifying ten seconds, she froze. I could see the panic locking up her jaw, the sudden urge to drop the guitar and bolt back to the safety of her bedroom.

I shoved my way past a guy twice my size, pushing closer to the front until I was right near the edge of the stage. I didn't yell- I just stood there, letting the ridiculous thrift store bat dress do the talking.

Robin’s eyes scanned the crowd, frantic and desperate, until they finally locked onto me.

A sudden, sharp smile broke across her face. The terror vanished, replaced instantly by that familiar, reckless energy. She leaned into the microphone, her voice echoing off the corrugated metal walls.

"We're Hellfire," she said, her tone dripping with a sudden, cool confidence. "And we're here to wake you up."

The drummer hit the count, and the room exploded.

I thought I knew Robin Buckley. I thought I understood her quirks, her fast-talking tangents, her cynicism. But the second she opened her mouth to sing, I realized I hadn't known anything at all.

Her voice wasn't the polite, practiced soprano of the high school choir- it was raw, gritty, and fiercely powerful. It filled every square inch of the warehouse, bouncing off the rafters with an emotional weight that made the hairs on my arms stand up. She commanded the stage, pacing back and forth, ripping chords out of her guitar while the jazz band guys laid down a heavy post punk bassline that completely captivated the crowd.

The older metalheads around me stopped talking. Heads started nodding. By the third song, the entire room was moving, completely swept up in the chaotic, beautiful storm Robin was creating. She was, without a doubt, the absolute anchor of the band. Every time she looked down at me, her smudged eyeliner crinkling with a triumphant grin, my heart did a dangerous flip.

When their final song crashed to an end in a wave of feedback, the warehouse erupted into genuine, roaring applause. Hellfire had completely killed it.

Before the ringing in my ears could even fade, and while the roadies for Corroded Coffin were just starting to haul amplifiers onto the stage, a sweaty, breathless hand grabbed my wrist.

"Come with me," Robin gasped, her face flushed and her eyes wild with adrenaline.

She dragged me through the surging crowd, pushing past security guards and hauling me down a narrow, dimly lit hallway behind the stage. She threw open a heavy metal door marked Private, pulling me into the backstage green room. It was a cramped space furnished with a torn vinyl couch, a cooler full of ice, and a haze of smoke hanging under a single fluorescent bulb.

And there, sitting on the arm of the couch with a guitar pick between his teeth, was Eddie Munson.

He looked exactly like Robin had described- older, completely detached from Hawkins, wearing a shredded denim vest over a black leather jacket, with rings on almost every finger. He had a wild, unruly mane of dark hair and an aura of pure, unadulterated rock and roll theatricality.

"Buckley!" Eddie shouted, tossing the pick onto a table and standing up. "Are you kidding me with that set? Hellfire? You absolutely tore the roof off this dump. The band kids? Brilliant. I’m a genius for booking you."

"We didn't throw up once," Robin panted, leaning against the wall, completely ecstatic. "Eddie, this is my friend. The one I told you about."

Eddie turned his gaze to me.

The atmosphere in the cramped room shifted instantly. His eyes were dark, intense, and incredibly sharp, flashing with an immediate, unfiltered curiosity as they took in the smudged black eyeliner and the bat covered dress. A slow, knowing smirk spread across his face, and he stepped closer, extending a hand covered in silver skull rings.

"So, you're the mysterious muse," Eddie said, his voice a low, theatrical drawl that sent a sudden jolt straight down my spine. "The one Robin said I had to meet. I'm Eddie."

"I know," I said, meeting his gaze evenly as I took his hand. His grip was warm, firm, and calloused from guitar strings. "Robin hasn't stopped talking about you all week."

"Is that so?" Eddie’s smirk widened, his eyes locked onto mine, completely ignoring the rest of the room. The chaotic energy around us seemed to quiet down, leaving just the heavy, electric hum between the two of us. "Well, I hope she told you the truth. That I'm entirely bad news, and exceptionally dangerous to hang around with."

"She might have mentioned that," I replied, a sudden, bold wit sparking in my chest as I leaned in just a fraction. "But I bought a dress covered in bats today, Eddie. Clearly, I'm not great at making smart choices."

Eddie let out a sharp, delighted laugh, his eyes lit with a sudden, burning interest that made it feel like the room had just dropped twenty degrees. "Oh, I like you," he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of my hand before he let go. "I like you a lot. You’re definitely staying for our set."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," I said.

The chemistry between us was instant, heavy, and completely undeniable. As Eddie turned to grab his guitar, flashing me one last lingering, wicked look over his shoulder, I realized Nancy's college catalogs were officially a million miles away. My world hadn't just split open…it had completely caught fire.

From the side of the stage, the warehouse looked entirely different. The sea of leather jackets and raised fists was just a dark, undulating wave, and we were standing right in the eye of the storm. Robin was leaning against a stack of amps next to me, her knuckles white against the metal casing, her eyes wide and reflective.

Then the house lights died, and Corroded Coffin took the stage.

The opening chord didn't just play- it pierced through the air like a physical blow, the bass frequency vibrating so violently through the floorboards that I could feel it in my teeth. And then there was Eddie.

Watching him from a few feet away was entirely mesmerizing. He didn't just perform- he commanded the room with a feral, theatrical gravity that made it impossible to look anywhere else. He prowled across the stage like a predator, his movements a fluid mix of aggressive headbanging and dramatic, sweeping gestures. One second he was dropping to his knees right at the edge of the stage, his fingers flying across the frets in a blinding, chaotic solo, and the next he was leaping onto a monitor, throwing his head back as his wild mane of hair whipped around him.

His voice was a revelation. It was a gritty, powerful growl that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest, raw and entirely unrefined, cutting through the heavy distortion of the guitars. He had the crowd completely under his spell. With a single wave of his ring-clad hand, he could whip the front row into a surging frenzy. With a sharp wicked grin, he held them captive. He was entirely unmoored from the crushing, polite normalcy of Hawkins. He was dangerous, loud, and completely free.

Halfway through their second song, during a heavy, driving drum breakdown, Eddie turned his head toward the wings.

His eyes scanned the dark side stage, bypassing the roadies and the equipment, until they locked directly onto mine.

Even in the dim shadows, the intensity of his gaze was staggering. The showman smirk vanished for a fraction of a second, replaced by a sharp, heavy look of recognition. He gave a slow, deliberate nod, his dark eyes burning into mine while he ripped into the next chord, his fingers never missing a beat.

A sudden, overwhelming rush of heat flooded my chest, so intense I felt like I was actually going to explode. My heart hammered against my ribs, a manic, frantic rhythm that matched the bassline echoing through the warehouse. The air in my lungs felt tight, electric, and completely intoxicating.

I looked over at Robin. She was screaming the words to the song, her face flushed with pure euphoria, completely alive in a way she never was at the video store or at school.

In that exact moment, the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. I finally understood what she meant on Tuesday night. I understood the melting gray matter, the mutated DNA, the feeling that the old timeline was dead and buried. This wasn't just a rock show in a sketchy warehouse. This was a completely different universe, one where the rules didn't exist, where five-year plans and college applications couldn't touch you.

Eddie looked back toward the crowd, throwing himself back into the music with reckless abandon, but the fuse had already been lit.

The safe, predictable world I shared with Nancy was officially turning to ash, and as I stood in the dark, watching Eddie burn up the stage, I realized I didn't want to save it.

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The heavy metal door slammed shut behind us, cutting off the worst of the warehouse roar, but the air in the green room was already twice as thick as before. Corroded Coffin had just piled in and their aura was unmatched.

Robin immediately pulled me into the center of the cramped space to introduce me to the rest of the band. There was Jeff, the rhythm guitarist, Gareth behind the drum kit, and Grant, who was already busy detuning his bass. They seemed cool enough- Gareth was still practically vibrating with energy- but when they looked at me, there was a distinct, patronizing shift in their expressions.

It was a look I recognized instantly. It was the assumption that I was just ordinary. A quiet girl who had tagged along to stare at a frontman. To them, I was just another groupie who had managed to slip past the backstage security.

Before the silence could get uncomfortable, the door clicked open again. A couple of older girls with massive, hairsprayed bangs and neon fishnets tried to push their way inside, giggling and calling out Eddie's name.

Eddie didn't even look up from where he was leaning against the wall. He just raised a hand, his silver rings catching the harsh fluorescent light, and waved them away with a dismissive, definitive flick of his wrist.

"Not tonight, ladies," he said, his voice dropping its theatrical edge for something flat and final. "We're full up."

The door clicked shut, leaving the room in a sudden, tense quiet.

Across the room, the guys from Hellfire were desperately trying to talk shop with Gareth and Grant, nervously asking about amp settings and distortion pedals. Seizing the distraction, Eddie reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a heavily crushed pack of cigarettes.

He didn't look at his bandmates. He looked straight at me, his dark eyes locking onto mine with that same heavy, intense focus from the stage. He tilted his head toward the back exit.

"Too loud in here," he muttered, his thumb hooking into the strap of Robin's denim vest to pull her along. "Let's get some actual oxygen."

We slipped out the rusty screen door into the gravel alleyway behind the warehouse. The cool Indiana night air hit us like a physical splash of water, instantly clearing the phantom scent of cheap beer from my throat. The sky above Hawkins was dark and vast, the distant tree line of the woods looking like jagged teeth against the horizon.

Eddie leaned his back against the brick wall, striking a match against the heel of his boot. The small orange flame illuminated the sharp angles of his face, casting long shadows across his forehead before he passed the cigarette to Robin.

"Your boys are geeking out in there, Buckley," Eddie said, a slow, lazy smirk returning to his lips as he lit a second cigarette for himself. "But they earned it. Seriously. You guys didn't sound like a band that's been together for four days. You sounded like trouble."

Robin took a drag, exhaling a long plume of smoke into the cold air, her shoulders finally dropping from her ears. "We are trouble. That's the whole point."

Eddie laughed, a low, gravelly sound, and then he turned his attention entirely to me. He took a slow step forward, blowing a ring of smoke that dissolved between us in the breeze. The casual condescension of the guys inside felt a million miles away out here. In the quiet of the alley, his presence was entirely overwhelming…not like a rock star commanding a crowd, but like someone who saw right through the armor I’d spent the whole day putting on.

Robin and Eddie launched into a fast, rhythmic banter that felt like watching a tennis match. She was dissecting the third song in their set, waving her cigarette around to emphasize how the bass player had completely missed a cue but somehow made it sound intentional, while Eddie listened with a grin, tossing out a laugh or a nod every few seconds.

I stayed back a step, leaning my shoulder against the cold brick wall and just taking it all in. The ringing in my ears was starting to fade, replaced by the quiet, steady hum of the Hawkins outskirts. Out here, under the pale glow of a single security light, the chaos of the night felt contained, like we were the only three people left in the world.

Eddie took a slow drag from his cigarette, his dark eyes tracking the smoke as it drifted upward. Then, without breaking his rhythm, his gaze shifted over to me. The easy, rock-star bravado softened into something sharper, a look of pure, undivided curiosity.

"You’ve barely said a syllable since we got out here," he said, tilting his head. He stepped away from the wall, moving closer until the heat radiating from his leather jacket was palpable. "Buckley here is a runaway freight train of words, but you... you're a locked box. What’s the deal?"

I shifted my weight, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed without the barrier of a camera or a crowded room between us. "I'm just listening," I murmured. "It was a big night."

"Sure, sure," Eddie said, but he didn't buy the easy answer. He leaned in a little closer, hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his vest. "But who are you when you’re not just listening? What makes you tick? Give me the real story. Who are you actually?"

The question hung in the cool night air, heavier than I expected. I opened my mouth to give the standard rehearsed response- the one I’d given to teachers, to my parents, to Nancy a hundred times before. The version of me that had a GPA, a neat bedroom, and a predictable trajectory toward some college out of state.

But looking at Eddie, with the smudge of my eyeliner probably blurring into the dark shadows under my eyes, the words caught in my throat. I hesitated.

The truth was, if he had asked me on Tuesday, I would have had an answer. But after the past few days- after Robin, after the thrift store, after watching him command that stage- the old answers felt like they belonged to a complete stranger.

"I don't know," I said honestly, my voice dropping to a quiet whisper. I looked down at the gravel beneath my feet, kicking a stray pebble. "Honestly? I’m not really sure who I am right now."

A slow, delighted grin spread across Eddie's face. He didn't look disappointed or bored- he looked entirely amused, his eyes flashing with a sudden, warm humor.

"Oh, an existential crisis," he chuckled, the sound low and rich in the quiet alleyway. He took another drag, his smile never fading. "Splendid. Truly magnificent. Most people in this godforsaken town spend their entire lives pretending they have it all figured out. They’ve got the house, the job, the perfectly manicured lawn, and they're completely dead inside."

He stepped even closer, his silver rings clinking together as he gestured between us.

"Admitting you don't have a clue? That’s where the fun starts," Eddie murmured, a wicked, encouraging spark in his eyes. "It means you're blank tape. You get to write whatever you want on it. I think that's highly commendable."

Robin let out a short laugh from the shadows, leaning back against the wall. "See? I told you he was dangerous. He’s a terrible influence."

"The absolute worst," Eddie agreed proudly, his eyes never leaving mine. "But at least I'm not boring."

Eddie turned back to Robin, launching into a heated debate about a local record store in Indianapolis that supposedly got bootlegs from the UK faster than anywhere else.

Robin’s arms started flailing again, her voice rising in pitch as she defended her favorite tape trading contact.

As their voices blurred into a comfortable background hum, the heavy wall of adrenaline that had been keeping me afloat all night suddenly crumbled. The cold air stopped feeling refreshing and started cutting right through the thin fabric of my dress.

Before I could stop it, the anxiety spiraled in.

I fell entirely into my own head, drowning in a wave of worry that felt completely overwhelming. I thought about the heavy kitchen clock ticking down the hours until morning. I thought about sneaking back through my window, the absolute certainty that my parents would catch me this time, and the inevitable fallout. I thought about Nancy, sitting in her perfect bedroom with her stupid highlighters and meticulous college binders  probably wondering why I was drifting away from her. The college applications felt like a giant, looming shadow, demanding a version of me that I didn't even know if I wanted to be.

Was I just playing dress-up tonight? Was this eyeliner and this outfit just a temporary mask to hide the fact that I was completely terrified of the future? Or is this me? Am I so scared of feeling finally free that I force myself into the box of conformity I've lived in my whole life?

"Alright, look," Robin’s voice suddenly broke through my thoughts, though she wasn't talking to me. She was hopping from one foot to the other. "The adrenaline has officially hit my bladder, and if I don't find a semi functional restroom in this dive right now, Hellfire is going to lose its lead singer to a very embarrassing medical emergency."

Eddie chuckled, waving a hand toward the heavy metal door. "Through the green room, down the hall to the left. Avoid the stall with the broken lock unless you want an audience, Buckley."

"Back in a flash. Don't let him corrupt you any further," Robin shot over her shoulder before slipping back inside, the door clanging shut behind her.

The silence that settled over the alleyway was instantaneous and heavy. Without Robin's manic energy bouncing between us, the space between Eddie and me felt charged with a sudden, quiet intensity.

I kept my eyes on the gravel, bracing myself for another joke or a witty remark, but it didn't come.

When I finally looked up, Eddie was staring at me. The lazy, rockstar smirk was completely gone. His expression was serious, his dark eyes fixed on mine with a weight that made my breath hitch. He tossed the remnant of his cigarette into the dirt, stepping closer until he was standing right in front of me, completely cutting off the wind.

"Hey," he said, his voice dropping into a quiet, grounded register I hadn't heard from him yet. "You went somewhere pretty dark just now. Where'd you go?"

I swallowed hard, shaking my head slightly.

"Just... thinking. It’s a lot. This whole night, the future, everything."

Eddie nodded slowly, leaning his shoulder against the brick wall right next to mine, but keeping his eyes locked onto my face. "Let me tell you something," he said, and there was no mockery in his tone, only an absolute, fierce sincerity. "I’ve lived in Hawkins my whole life. I’ve seen hundreds of people pass through this town, and most of them are just ghosts waiting to happen. They take the safe path, they do what they're told, and they let this place swallow them whole."

He reached out, his silver rings catching the faint amber light as he gestured toward me.

"But you? You’re not like them. I saw it when you were standing at the edge of that stage, and I see it right now. You’re special," Eddie said, his words deliberate and heavy. "You’ve got a spark in you that doesn't belong in a town this small. You have the potential to be something so much greater than whatever neat little box this place is trying to force you into. Don't let them convince you otherwise."

The words hit me like a physical shock, echoing loudly against all the doubts that had just been suffocating me. To hear someone like Eddie- someone who seemed so entirely bulletproof and independent- say that about me felt completely surreal. I didn't know how to respond, my heart hammering a chaotic rhythm against my ribs as I just stared at him, trying to process the sudden, blinding warmth blooming in my chest.

Before I could find my voice, the heavy metal door banged open again, and Robin bounded back out into the alley, exhaling a loud sigh of relief.

"Crisis averted!" she announced, entirely oblivious to the heavy universe that had just shifted in her absence. "But the smell in there is a biological hazard, so we should probably hit the road before we contract something."

The ride back to Robin's house was a quiet one. Robin chattered happily about the setlist for their next rehearsal, but I barely heard the words. Eddie's voice kept looping in my mind, a steady, defiant anchor against the suffocating anxiety of the week. Something greater.

Eddie smoothly transitioned back into his easy, roguish grin, stepping back and giving us a dramatic, sweeping bow. "A wise choice, Buckley. Go forth and conquer." He looked back at me one last time, a lingering, knowing warmth in his eyes. "See you around, bat girl."

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By the time I finally crept back across my own bedroom windowsill, carefully locking the glass behind me, the house was still completely asleep. I shed the black dress, washed the smudged eyeliner from my face, and crawled under the covers.

You finished decorating throughout the week and this place looks bitchin’. Purple and orange lights hang throughout the entire bottom half of the house, illuminating the place in a soft colorful glow. Streamers hanging on the walls to imitate the look of blood. Part of you was tempted to make a banner of the Mindflayer, a sick inside joke that only Robin, Steve and if Nancy showed up, would understand. You ran out of time though before your dark thoughts became a reality.

Steve and Robin showed up early so we can pre-game and get ready together for the party. Steve is dressed like Marty McFly, a nod to the movie we were plopped into as we were trying to evade the Russians. You guess he was able to tap into his dark humor for the holiday. Robin is in her Grady twin costume, missing her other half for now. Steve brings in two brown bags full of liquor and a whole bunch of fruit so we can make jungle juice. He pulls out a special bottle of top shelf vodka for the three of us and hands it to you to hide upstairs in your room. If anyone is going to get fucked up on the good stuff it’s us. Robin already told you that plenty of people are bringing beer so we’ll be covered on that front. Snacks are already put into their bowls and scattered throughout the kitchen and the living room. You can be a little bit of a perfectionist when it comes to hosting, wanting everything to go well for everyone involved.

We clamor up the stairs, excited for the night to come. You haven’t gotten dressed yet and it’s four o’clock. Party starts at seven so you have a few more hours to get your shit together. You pull your Freddy Krueger costume out from its packaging, Steve and Robin sit on your bed, teasing each other about their costumes.

“Steve, can you uh, turn around? Gotta change into this.” You hold up the costume and he turns his body to face the wall. You swear you can hear him let out a whiny huff in defiance but you’ll ignore that for now. The costume is skin tight, you guess you gained some weight from over the summer. Makes sense when you’ve actually been eating and enjoying yourself and not in a pit of despair. The dress hugs your curves in all the best ways, rips in the fabric show off your chest and legs, giving you more cleavage than you expected. You add your black fishnets underneath and throw on your trusty Docs. You don’t wanna be caught dead in heels tonight, what’s the point of looking good if you’re going to be uncomfortable the whole time? Nope. Can’t be me.

Robin watches as you check yourself out in the mirror, her mouth hangs open in surprise.

“Dude… You look so hot right now!”

Steve whips his head back around and matches her open mouth stare. You can see his cheeks turn a rosy red as he tries to wrap his head around just how good you look. Robin reaches over and closes his mouth for him.

“I think you broke the boy.” Robin laughs as she flicks Steve's temple, trying to break him out of his trance.

“Yup. Totally broken. Not even a little bit sorry honey.” he rubs his eyes and blinks, still in disbelief of just how good you can make a psycho slasher look.

“Well then Harrington, if you think I look good now, wait ‘till the makeup goes on.” You laugh knowing that you're about to paint your face with fake burns, trying to be sexy and scary at the same time. Not your usual makeup look but you want this to be perfect.

“Yay! Makeup! You have to cover me in fake blood. C’mon! I wanna be scary too!” Robin hops up off your bed and pulls you into the bathroom with her so we can start the second half of our costumes.

You do her makeup first, making her look ghostly and gaunt with some dark makeup around her eyes and hollowing out her cheeks with some grey eyeshadow. You add a little bit of fake blood to drip down from her hairline and some coming from the corner of her mouth. Carefully trying to not get it in her mouth. Steve uses this time to himself to roll up a whole bunch of joints to smoke throughout the night and takes a swig of the vodka that we’ll hide in my desk.

He peeks his head inside the bathroom. “Can I light up in here? Or do you want me on the roof?”

“People are going to end up smoking everywhere anyways so just light up in here. I could use some myself right now. Gotta calm down the pre party jitters.” Robin turns around to face him and he jumps, he may be a tough, monster fighting guy but little ol’ Robin’s makeup just gave him a fright. A loud laugh escapes from your mouth before you can stop it and he dramatically gasps.

“You really are a sight to be seen Buckley.” Steve lights up the first of many joints of the night and inhales deeply, exhaling up to the ceiling to not blow smoke in our faces.

“Yeah well at least I look cool dingus. When Vickie sees me she’s going to think I look totally wicked.” she plucks the joint from his hands and checks herself out in the bathroom mirror, admiring your work. “Dude you did such a good job. I’m so fucking excited for tonight. I still owe you like, big time.”

She hands you over the joint as you get more makeup out to complete my look. Red and black eyeshadow placed carefully on your lids, bringing out your eyes in the process. Heavy black eyeliner and mascara to top off the first part of the look. Next is the fun part. You hand the joint back to Steve and the circle continues as you work on making burns on the left side of your face. You haven’t used face paint in a long time but it’s just like regular painting, just a little bit harder. Circular burn marks come to life as you concentrate on getting it just right, losing yourself in the art. Steve and Robin watch on as they pass the joint back and forth in your cramped bathroom. You don’t even notice when the doorbell rings and Robin disappears, letting in the mystery guest who came far too early.

You're just about done with the paint when Steve taps you on the shoulder.

“Rob went to go get Vickie. I guess she told her to come early so they can get some time together. She didn’t think you would mind.”

“Not at all, I’d rather her get some alone time in now before everyone gets here and she feels like she has to hide.. She deserves it.”

Steve puts the dwindling joint out in the sink as you grab the bottle of fake blood to accentuate the burns that were so painstakingly painted onto your face. Before you can apply it Steve interrupts again.

“You know hun, you look terrifyingly good. Like, seeing you in that costume. I just- I- yeah.” His words come out in a jumbled mess as he tries to hide the blush that creeps across his face again.

“Keep it in your pants Harrington… for now…” You wink at him and he groans, covering the growing bulge that threatens to make itself known to the world. His jean choice for tonight is a bit tight but it shows off that mouth watering part of him and it makes his ass look great. Wonderful, you’re objectifying him just as much as he probably is you. 

“You just look beautiful. Even with those burns on your face.” He steps closer to you, backing you up against the bathroom counter.

“Thank you Stevie…” Your voice drops to a whisper as he tries to go in for a kiss. The sounds of foot steps up the stairs at an alarming speed makes us jump from each others space, not wanting Robin to walk in on an intimate moment like this.

“Hey! Vickies here!” Robin pulls her into the bathroom and the other girl affectionately clings onto her arm. “Can you give us matching makeup? Or at least the blood?”

Vickie speaks up, “Thank you for having me Y/N and for hosting. I told Rob you didn’t have to do anything else for me but she insisted..”

“Yeah she can be persistent. Here, sit on the counter and I’ll fix you right up!” Vickie climbs up onto the counter, stumbling just as Robin would. They’re really made for each other huh. Two clumsy peas in a pod. You apply the fake blood to her face in the same spots as Robins, giving them twin fake wounds. Robin squeals in delight as you finish up and Vickie joins her again in the doorway.

“Hey we have like an hour before show time, Vickie and I are gonna chill downstairs, is that cool?”

“Yeah I still have to do the finishing touches and clean up so you’re good!”

Vickie turns to make her way back down to the living room and Robin stops for a moment,  mouthing silently to me and Steve to give her five minutes alone. We nod in agreement and shut the door as to give them even more privacy. But is it for them or is it for us?

As soon as we hear their footsteps descend, Steve swiftly crosses the room and closes the gap between us. His lips meet yours as he backs you up against the wall this time. You can feel your arousal heighten as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and his hands find their way to the back of your neck and down your back, desperate to bring you as close to him as possible. He grabs a handful of ass, his fingers kneading into the supple skin and a pathetic moan escapes your lips.

“Fuck… Steve…” 

“Shh, don’t want the lovebirds to hear us downstairs.”

“Mmm, I’d bet they’re doing the same thing we are right now.”

“I bet they’re not doing this though.” He squeezes your neck gently, his thumb pressing against the ghost of bruised skin that his “competition” made, you gasp at the feeling that it makes.

He kisses down your jaw, trying to avoid messing up the makeup that you just  finished. Light nips at your skin going lower down your neck. He hits one spot where your shoulder and neck meet and a fire ignites in your core. You can feel yourself getting uncomfortably wet and you squirm under his touch. He reads your mind and stays in that spot, sucking hard and creating his own hickey next to the others. His one hand still holds your body close to his, feeling his erection get impossibly harder as he slots himself between your legs. The moans that escape your mouth are sinful as you grind against his clothed dick. His other hand is traveling, cupping your breast over your costume.

“S-Steve! I- You- You’re driving me crazy.”

A wicked grin covers his face, his eyes turning from their usual amber brown to something darker, full of lust.

“Get on the counter.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

He leads you over to the counter, never breaking the kiss. He lifts you up by your waist and sits you down on top of it. He grabs your leg and puts it on top of his shoulder, turning his head and kissing up the side of your calf. The fishnets get in the way of his lips meeting your skin fully, anticipation building up as he makes his way higher up and onto your thigh. Your pussy is aching at his touch. His other hand rests right at the top of your unkissed thigh, gently spreading your legs open. Your dress rides up as your legs open wider, kisses getting closer to your weeping cunt.

“I bet you taste so so good baby.” Steve's growl is muffled into your skin.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

That’s all the permission that he needed to do exactly what he wanted. He slides your fishnets down to your ankles with one swift motion, fully exposing your lacey black thong thats a little too small for you. Your already swollen pussy peeking through on both sides of the fabric. He plants a kiss closer to your core.

“Need you to touch me”

Another kiss lands on your clothed clit, sending lighting throughout your body. The heat from his breath makes you uncomfortably turned on and you buck up to his touch. He slides his fingers over your thong, up and down from your clit to your opening. It’s driving you fucking insane. He pulls the lace to the side, completely exposing you to him. His eyes go wide as he takes in the view for the first time.

“Hoooly shit. Baby. You’re soaked. This all for me?” he slips a finger into you, bottoming out and curling upwards into the spongy flesh that feels so good.

“Y- yes. I- I need you- I need-”

“Shh shh, I know what you need.”

He takes his finger out of you and you feel empty immediately, but not for long. He licks a strip from your clit down to your slick core. His tongue is long, teasing your entrance while he laps up everything that he can. He lifts his head, finally swirling his tongue around your clit. Two fingers make their way inside you this time, easily slipping into your soaked cunt. He pumps them into a curling motion again and you grind into them, chasing your high. His tongue is firm but gentle against your clit, the hums that fall from his mouth has you gripping the counter, trying to ground yourself on anything that you can. Your head is buzzing with the feeling of his mouth against your most sensitive area. The same place that you desperately wanted him for so long.

You try to stiffen your moans but it’s no use. You hope to god that Robin and Vickie are too preoccupied to hear the carnal sounds that you two are making in this small bathroom. High pitched moans flow like a melody to his ears and he picks up the pace. His fingers moving faster, with more purpose, and you can feel the coil in your stomach tightening as your release fast approaches. He continues to sloppily kiss your clit at the same time, feeling your walls squeezing his nimble fingers.

“Fucking come for me baby. That’s it. Let yourself go all over my fingers.”

“Gonna- Gon- Come- Fuck!”

That’s it. That’s all it fucking took. The strength of your orgasm almost knocks the wind out of you as you gush all around his fingers. He picks up the pace even more as you grind harder into his hand, trying to ride out the rest of what feels like a never ending orgasm. Your body twitches as he pops his fingers out, moving his tongue down to clean up the mess that you made. Your clit is overly sensitive to any sensation and you try to squeeze his head with your legs to signal to stop.

“Too sensitive Stevie.. Can’t take anymore right now..” 

He leaves one last kiss on your pussy and stands up, popping his fingers into his mouth and sucking your slick off of him. He’s fucking killing you. He gingerly helps you slide the fishnets back up your legs and adjusts your dress. He slots himself between your legs again and kisses your lips.

“You are fucking perfect.” Steve is out of breath as he speaks. His chin is still wet with your slick. He runs the back of his sleeve across his face to wipe you off, looking disappointed at the lack of you on him.

“Steve- I- I wanna make you feel good too.” You can’t just let him go without making him feel good too. It’s not fair. Plus you desperately need to know what that pretty cock of his looks like up close.

“Nu uh. You have a party to host… and it’s not like you didn’t make me come the other day. I owed you one.”

“I didn’t do anything though!” You whine

“Nope. You did. You existed and kissed me and I came in my damn pants. That takes more talent than you think.”

The sound of the doorbell rings and you and Steve nearly jump out of your skin. The front door creeks open and you hear Robin and Vickie exchanging pleasantries with whoever is here. They’re probably from band. You poked your head out to your room and looked at the clock, it’s nearly six thirty, they’re early.

“I guess the band kids don’t have anything better to do than party. I guess we should go down there?” You look sheepishly at Steve while he nods. Where did this shy girl come from all of a sudden? 

Steve

Holy shit. Hooooly shit. Did that really just happen? Did I just? Yeah. I just fucking did.

As time marches forward, more and more people filter in through the front doors to party… and these kids party hard. Never in my life would I have guessed that. I mean, I didn’t really hang around these types of crowds during my time in Hawkins. Parties were thrown at my house usually, with either a small group of people or with the other guys in basketball along with the football players, track team, whatever kind of jock you can think of, they were always there. But they just drank beer, maybe a little liquor here and there, nothing too crazy. Didn’t want their mommy and daddy’s finding out about them getting fucked up. But these kids? Jesus Christ. They know how to party.

Unfamiliar faces are all around me, usually I’d be the life of the party but anything goes right now. There's a group of theater kids putting on a very drunken show in the backyard. Music kids are controlling the speakers inside, their taste is actually really good. The art kids are all smoking in the bathroom, a few of the drunker ones are smoking in the living room, I think they’re trying to be respectful so far. I’m just trying to stay somewhat sober, keeping my eye out in case anything goes awry. Y/N and Robin are in the kitchen with Vickie and her friends, they’ve decided to share some of the good vodka with them. I don’t mind, as long as they’re happy that’s all that matters to me. You see Y/N’s eyes light up when your gaze finally locks together.

“Harrington! Stevieee! Cm’ere!” her words are slightly slurred. Sure she can out-smoke the best of us but drinking is a whole other ballgame.

I walk over to the group, settling between her and Robin, slinging my arms around their shoulders. My girls. My best friends. The only two people who annoy the shit out of me but have me wrapped around their fingers.

“Steeeeeeeve. Have you met Vickie? This is Vickie.” Robin’s eyes are the most bloodshot I’ve ever seen. She gestures lazily towards her other half, Vickie curtseying at her announcement.

“Yeah Rob, we’ve met a few times. She was literally here early to get her makeup done. How high are you?” My eyebrows raise but the question just makes her burst out in laughter. She slides out from under my arm and stands by the red head’s side. The two of them look adorable as the Grady Twins, spooky and sweet. She takes another swig of the vodka and hands me the bottle.

“Drink Steve. Drink like your life depends on it.”

“Rob, who do you think is gonna take care of you later tonight?”

“Vickie?” she turns to her partner in crime who's just as fucked up as she is. Y/N laughs, still tucked under my arm. She is not helping this at all.

“Vickie’s not gonna be doing shit Rob. I’ll be the one with you all night. And this one?” I squeeze Y/N’s shoulder, “I’ll be taking care of you both if you keep it up.”

“Oookay buzzkill.” Robin tries to shoot me a dirty look, coming off goofy instead. “Vickie, let's go dance!”

The two of them disappear into the bodies that crowd the living room, creating their own space on the makeshift dancefloor. Y/N looks up at me and sighs, nestling into my chest. I can feel my heart wanting to explode at this moment, I know she’s messed up right now, but it’s in the cutest way possible. At some point in the last hour or so she wiped off all of the burn marks, I don’t know why when she worked so hard on it. I haven’t been paying as much attention to these two as I should be.

“What happened to your face?”

“Whatcha mean Stevieee?” the way she says my name is all exaggerated and drawn out. She only does this when she’s drunk but I’ll never tell her how adorable it sounds.

“The burn makeup? I thought it looked really fucking cool.”

“Reminded me too much.” she mumbles, I can barely hear her over the music.

“Too much of what?”

“Starcourt. No thank you. Looked too real.” She hangs her head, the ground becoming suddenly really interesting.

“Oh. You know honey, that’s all done.” I lift her head gently by her chin so she can look me in the eyes. “No more of that. You don’t have to worry about that anymore. It’s all over and we can party and fuck and do whatever the hell we want now!” Her face lights up at the thought. I didn’t even think of Starcourt when she was doing the burns. She just looked like a really cool rendition of Freddy Krueger. I know she was more affected by all of that craziness, she almost died protecting Dustin. Which should’ve been my job. Fuck. Not right now. Can’t go back to that, gotta move forward. She notices that I’m deep in thought and her brow furrows.

“Stevieeeee, wanna shmoke?”

“Of course I do. Right here? You wanna move outside?”

“Outside cool. Like outside. Need to sober Stevie. Too drunk. Need high.”

This is not going to make her less fucked up but I’ve got her. I’m not leaving her side for the rest of the party. Rob and Vickie are the blind leading the blind at this point, but they’re having fun. Not that cross faded. If Robin smoked anything tonight it had to have been so little or she would be asleep in the corner by now. I lead her out the back door, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge before we leave the kitchen. Her backyard is huge, stretching a good acre with the woods touching the outskirts. She wanders over to a spot under the huge willow tree and sits in the grass. Her hand outstretches and she pulls me down to sit with her, using all the strength she can muster at this point.

I grab a joint from the pocket of my jacket and light up, taking the first hit to make sure that it’s smoking right and passing it to her. She takes a deep inhale and holds the smoke in. She exhales only when holding her breath becomes too much.

“Stevie!” She grabs my face and I jump, not expecting the sudden touch. The lit joint is dangerously close to catching my hair on fire. “Stevie. I like you. I like you a lot. Thank you.”

My hands move up to hers, one stays cupping her hand on my face and the other steals the joint away before it can do any damage.

“I like you too honey. Like a lot. You don’t have to thank me for anything though.”

“Like what you did with your tongue before. Gotta do that again. Gotta make it up to you.”

That catches me by surprise. My words get caught in my throat and all the blood in my body rushes to my dick. Of course it does. Even the thought of what we did is going to turn me into a horny puddle in an instant.

“Honey, we can do that as many times as you want.” I whisper back to her.

“Good Stevie. I like you.” She nods her head with enthusiasm.

“I know you do silly girl.” I can’t help but smile at her. She’s staring at me, eyes wild and inquisitive. Her lips are curled into a sweet smile of her own. She has such a beautiful smile. Beautiful eyes. She’s just beautiful.

She steals the joint from me with a little giggle, bringing it to her lips again and blowing the smoke into my face. I pout my lips, trying to look mad but it just makes her giggle more.

“I am going to smoke your weed Stevie Harrington! And you can’t catch me!” With that she jumps up and goes running around her yard. She caught me off guard and it takes me a second to get up to chase after her. She’s fast for someone so much shorter than me.

It’s not much of a headstart because she just starts to run in circles around the base of the tree. Laughing so wildly, hair blowing in the wind, it’s like a scene in a movie. I stop suddenly and while she rounds the bend of the tree she stops dead in her tracks, not expecting me to have countered her movements. She lets out a playful shriek and takes off towards the woods. Fuck. She can’t go running in the woods when she’s like this. Robin may be the clutz in the group but when Y/N is this fucked up anything can happen.

In the blink of an eye she breaks through the tree line. I sprint as fast as I can to catch her before she does something stupid. I was holding back before but not now. I barely make my way into the woods when I hear a loud crack of a tree limb breaking and a thump.

“FUCK!” Y/N yells out in pain.

I run as fast as I possibly can to her location. There are tree branches scattered throughout the forest floor. I can’t believe she made it this far without falling. I was supposed to be protecting her. Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s on the ground, hands cradling her shin, blood pouring down her leg from where it made contact with the broken limb. Her fishnets are ripped and she has a leaf stuck in her hair. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Honey. I’m here. I got you.” I scoop her up in my arms and hug her to my chest, placing a soft kiss to the top of her head. Carefully I make my way back to the yard trying to be as stealthy as I can by getting her in the house and upstairs and out of everyone’s view. Thankfully no one saw her fall, I know she would be mortified if they did. I’m not even sure she’s going to remember tonight if I’m honest. I hope she does.

We get closer to her house and she taps on my chest.

“Wanna walk Stevie. I can walk. Shit hurts. Help me take care of it?”

I put her down gently, letting her regain balance on her feet. “Of course honey. Just try to go upstairs quickly. First aid is in the downstairs bathroom right?”

“Yeah. Good stuff is in there. I just have bandaids. Need good stuff.” she hangs her head in shame of what happened even though she shouldn’t feel bad. I’m the one who was supposed to be protecting her.

We make our way inside and she immediately bolts up the stairs. Everyone seems to be in their own little worlds so nobody notices the blood dripping down her leg. Thank god. Gotta get to the bathroom and find some neosporin and gauze.

The bathroom door is locked and I can clearly hear the sounds of people hooking up in there. Great. Horny teenagers are in the way of my mission. Of course they are.

“Hey! Whoever’s in there. I don’t care what you’re doing but I need to get stuff from this bathroom. Can you open the door please?”

I can hear someone groan on the other side but no sounds of the lock coming undone. The door has one of those locks that are easy to pick so fuck it. I don’t care if I have to get an eyeful of some dude’s ass, I’m getting the shit and getting out.

The door opens with ease and Robin screams from the other side.

“STEVE HARRINGTON. DON’T YOU KNOW TO KNOCK?!” She is furious. Vickie gasps at the sudden outburst.

I quickly step inside the bathroom with them and shut the door behind me. No one was in the hallway so no harm no foul, except for having to see Robin like this. I know this look. I’ve had this look many times.

Her hair is wild, sticking up in places that it shouldn’t be capable of doing. Vickie’s looks the same. Their makeup is all over their faces, the fake blood from earlier completely smeared across their cheeks. Vickie is trying to slow down her breath and Robin’s dress is still pushed upwards. I give her the once over and she catches me. She looks down and straightens her dress and then looks back up at me. I shrug. Like I said, I don’t care about her and her love life. I just didn’t think it was going to be her that I found in here.

“Y/N got hurt. Cut her leg pretty bad running into the woods.” Robin tries to speak but I put a hand up and cut her off. “She’s fine. She’s a little too messed up and thought it would be funny to run from me. The good stuff as she says, is in here. Sorry to interrupt!” 

I open the medicine cabinet and find the first aid kid, cracking it open and checking if it has everything that I need. Satisfied, I close it back up and turn to leave. Both girls have been eerily quiet but Vickie speaks up.

“You’re not going to like, tell anyone about this… are you?” The red heads eyes go surprisingly wide in fear. Robin breaks the tension and raises her hand like she’s swearing on a bible.

“I swear he won’t say shit to anyone. Stevie here doesn’t care about all of this. We’re good baby.” She hugs her and Vickie’s worries seem to melt away.

“Yeah, I uh, I was the one who was trying to get Buckley over here to make the first move. Don’t worry. Secret is always safe with me.”

“Thank you Stevie. Go take care of our girl now. Gotta get back to it.” she gives me a smile and a quick shove out the door, immediately locking it behind her. Gross.

I make my way through the crowd, people are still coming and going, in and out of the house an endless flow of people. Some I recognize now but most are just faces to me. I’m almost to the stairs and suddenly I hear one of them talking to their friend.

“Now that Eddie’s here, you think he’ll sell me some weed?” she laughs, completely oblivious to how those words stop me dead in my tracks.

Fucking hell. Not now. Not right now. I run up the stairs and hover in front of Y/N’s room. What the fuck is he doing here? I mean I knew there was a chance that he would come. But I didn’t think he actually was going to. I know she talked to him and they were cool and I’m so happy for them. Kinda. I can’t do this right now. The night was going so well. Especially before Y/N wrecked her leg. We were having such a good time. I was going to take care of her tonight. Make her some waffles in the morning because they’re her favorite. Get her water, Tylenol, anything that she might need to make things better. But now that he’s here I have no idea how this night is going to end.

Everything with Eddie was unpredictable.

Eddie

I drive down her road and it seems like the party is really a hit. She told me this week in school that if I wanted to come and make some money off of the fucked up creative kids that I should, so why not? It’s not like I had anything better to do tonight anyways.

Jeff and Gareth were taking their siblings trick or treating, Grant had to work, and even though I love them, I wouldn’t be caught dead with the younger Hellfire boys tonight. I think it’s their last good year of trick or treating anyway, they’ll be hopped up on sugar trying to enjoy the last fleeting moments of childhood traditions.

With the amount of cars here right now I have to park a little bit down the road. I grab my lucky lunch box and start the walk towards her house. Drunk and high classmates are scattered around the front yard but the only thing I notice is the BMW parked in the driveway. Of course he’s here. She said he was going to be here. I wasn’t fucking thinking straight. I should turn back. No one saw me yet, I mean she didn’t see me yet, so I can just sneak away right? But what if someone tells her that they saw me and she didn’t. Then she would be upset. She would think that I ran away. Fuck!

A tap on my shoulder came from behind as I stopped to ponder my escape. Can’t do that now though.

“Hey! Eddie! Are you, y’know, selling anything tonight?” some junior girl asks all nervous. She’s dressed like a cat, her makeshift ear headband askew on her head.

“Yeah I am. Want something?” I lift the lunch box up and get to work. No use running now.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

I make my way inside after dealing with a few other people on the front lawn. Normally I wouldn’t do my business so out in the open but damn, everyone here is fucked up in some sort of way. I had no idea these guys knew how to party like this. I mean, I heard rumors but being the freak you don’t get invited to very many parties. Maybe to sell or to smoke some people up, but I’m usually in and out, not staying long enough to partake in any of the festivities. Tonight is different though. I just have to find Y/N.

Bodies are so close together in her living room, the dim purple lights making everyone seem like they’re in a trance. She did a really good job at decorating. I scan the room, not seeing her or Buckley. If Robin was somewhere then Y/N was sure to be close.

The kitchen doesn’t give me any luck in finding her either but it does find me a few more customers. I’m barely paying attention to the deals, having sorted out and weighed a bunch of bags before I left home. I knew I wasn’t trying to break out a scale with every purchase so I came prepared. The kitchen is devoid of the one person I want to see but it has alcohol and I can’t complain about that.

I fill a black cup up with what I think is jungle juice. Usually that shit is too sweet for me but this is surprisingly good. I down the drink in one go and fill up another cup, I’m going to need some liquid courage if I run into Steve anyway. 

Another cup goes down the hatch as I try to find her. People are all over the place. Everyone is dressed up too which makes me feel a lot less self conscious of my Freddy Krueger costume. When Y/N told me that everyone was going to be dressing up I knew I had to come in something cool. I thought about dressing up in something just super metal, like I was playing Madison Square Garden or I was in Metallica, but I thought that was going to be too predictable. I know she loves a good horror movie and she loves Nightmare On Elm Street, so Freddy it was. It made me blend in as well with everyone else going all out on their costumes. I should’ve guessed that a bunch of creative kids would be, well, creative.

I haven’t checked outside or upstairs yet. The wall next to the stairs has a big sign to not go up there though. I doubt she would be hiding away in her room, although I wouldn’t put it past her since all of her friends are missing as well. Outside first and then upstairs. 

It’s darker out here, the moon being the only light to guide my way. Her backyard is huge. I’ve never been out here before. A huge willow tree sits in the middle of the yard and even then there is so much space. The only people who have yards this big are usually the people who fucking hate my guts. The jocks and their rich parents. The cheerleaders. The pretentious assholes who try to ruin my life. But not her, she doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks of her when she’s with me. She’s genuine. I don’t see that all that often.

I wander over to the tree and lean against its wide trunk and light up a joint for myself. It’s easier to look for her when I’m high. Less distractions.

My mind wanders as the first hit of smoke fills my lungs. Where the hell is she? I haven’t even seen a hint of Harrington yet. Not that I want to see him, but if he’s missing as well then she’s sure as fuck going to be with him. I gotta try to find a way to get her away from him then. Talk to her. See her smile. She teased her costume all week, not even giving a hint of what she was going to be dressed as, just that I would like it very much.

I’d like anything that she wore. She could be wearing a potato sack and I’d still think she was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. She has this natural beauty to her. She doesn’t have to get dressed up and put makeup on, she just looks good as is. Even then, I love her style. She tones it down during school but I’ve seen who she really is. A badass metalhead in a pair of fishnet stockings. What I wouldn’t do to rip a pair of those off of her.

Fuck okay, I need to stop. I have a mission. Need to find her.

One last look around the yard and I don’t see anything. Okay time to go upstairs. Upon entering the kitchen from the back door I finally spot Robin over by the liquor. A familiar face in the nick of time. She’ll probably know where Y/N is.

“Hey! Buckley! I uh- have you seen Y/N?” I sheepishly ask, grabbing a third cup of juice to calm my nerves.

“Munson! Hi!” she grabs onto my arm to stop herself from falling over. Her being this fucked up was something I did not expect. A red headed girl is next to her, their costumes match. She looks familiar, I think she’s in band but I can’t remember her name right now. Another sip of my drink tips me over the edge, my head feeling fuzzy and my body lighter.

“She’s upstairs. With Steeevieeeee. She’s okay though. Just a little cut. No problem.” Her words come out in a slurred jumbled mess but I understand what she’s saying. Drunk talk is something I’m unfortunately very familiar with.  

“Cut? She’s hurt?” my eyes go wide in alarm, immediately slamming the rest of the drink and making my way to the stairs. Robin calls after me.

“Shes okay! Steve make her better!” she erupts in a fit of laughter with the red head. I don’t even care right now if I have to be in the same room as him. I need to know if she’s okay.

I take the steps two at a time, making my way up to her room in record time. It’s eerily quiet up here compared to downstairs. The atmosphere just feels… different.

The door to her room is open a crack and I don’t see them but I can hear her in the bathroom with him. Soft whimpers escape her mouth. She doesn’t seem like it’s a little cut. I take a deep breath and open the bathroom door, the brighter light immediately blinding me.

The two of them are on her bathroom floor. Her shin is bleeding pretty bad and she has a leaf stuck in her hair. Steve is on his knees in front of her, pressing a towel to the wound. Medical supplies are scattered all over the floor. They look up at me in shock and I’m sure my face matches theirs. It looks like a fucking massacre happened in here.

“EDDIE!” She’s the first to speak. Well more shriek with delight dripping off her words. “I’m so happy!” She tries to get up but Steve holds her down. “I fell. Not fun. I’m fucked up.”

Steve won’t even look in my direction again. Attending to her leg like it's the only thing in the room.

“I see that sweetheart. Are you okay?” I can see Steve wince while I talk to her. Right now I’m just going to ignore him.

“I’m okay. Stevie take care of me. Sit with us. Smoke!” She sounds so silly when she’s fucked up like this. I’ve seen her high plenty of times and she never gets like this. Note to self, she doesn’t hold her liquor very well. I don’t think she even knows what she’s asking of me right now though.

Cautiously I sit next to her, on the opposite side that Steve is sitting. She’s kind of sandwiched between us and she cranes her neck to turn around to look at me, the rest of her body still facing Steve as he works on putting Neosporin on her cut. I take out a joint and raise my eyebrows, a silent permission to light up in here. She nods slowly, trying to act normal in these circumstances. My lighter meets the tip of the joint and that wonderful smell hits the air. Steve silently takes one of his own out of his pocket and lights up as well, the bathroom slowly filling with smoke. It's like he knows that I wasn't going to share with him.

We both try to hand her our respective joints at the same time and she happily takes both out of our grasp. A wicked grin spreads across her face. I know I've never seen her in this state before but I feel like I know her well enough to know she's about to cause some trouble. Steve's eyes nervously dart around the room and he must be feeling the same way that I am right now. 

“So. Boys.” She takes a hit of one joint and then the other, passing them back to the wrong person. A gnawing feeling grows in my stomach as I continue to smoke the joint by myself. Steve takes his and stops wrapping up her leg momentarily to listen to her speak.

“Say hi Steve. Say hi Eddie.” She looks around at each of us as she says our names. We both stay silent, each of us not daring to speak. Steve hands her back his joint and she pouts, crossing her arms like she's a child that was told no. He takes the joint back and takes another deep hit.

“You guys hate me. Hate each other. I hate this. I like you both. A lot.” She hangs her head and tears start to well up in her eyes, threatening to ruin her makeup. Both of us freeze. Just remember she's majorly fucked up. She doesn't know what she's trying to do has major complications. Or maybe she does and she just doesn't give a shit right now.

“Sweetheart.. This isn’t a conversation we can have right now. I think.. I think we’re both focused on you right now. Making sure that you’re okay.” The gauze on her leg still looks a little rough, blood starting to seep through the bandages already.

“No Eddie. Want you guys to talk. Please?” The tears start to spill from her eyes, her mascara running down her face with it. I look over to Steve and he shrugs. Are we really going to do this here? Now? I really don’t want to see her cry. This is supposed to be a fun night for her. She loves Halloween.

“Honey, I don’t want you to cry. We can try to talk.” Steve speaks first, his voice shaking. 

“Do it here. I’m here. I can make things better.” She scoots back and grabs ahold of both of our shoulders. Looking back and forth between us, she sniffles and gives us a weak smile.

“I uh, if Steve is okay with it, I guess we can talk here…” I’m hesitant but I’m not sure she’ll even remember this conversation. Fuck it. It might be better with her here as a buffer anyway.

“Yeah.. yeah I’m okay with it.” 

Both of our respective joints have burned out at this point, Steve pulls two more out of his pocket and offers one to me. I shake my head to decline and pull out another one from my lunch box. I guess it’s now or never.

You

The bathroom tile feels really cold against your skin. Feels really good though. Your leg doesn’t feel very good. Leg hurts. You fucking fell didn’t you?

You don’t know how you ended up here, sandwiched between Eddie and Steve, but you're glad that you are. Even though the two of them are in a silent showdown right now. I mean, it’s better than nothing right? 

They both smoke their respective joints. The smoke makes the bathroom feel really hazy. You may be drunk off your ass but you can kind of comprehend what is going on. You whip your head back and forth between the two men, making yourself dizzy in the process. They both look so cute right now. Eddie matches you. You had no idea that he was going to be dressed as Freddy Krueger too. Since they won’t break the silence, you will. 

“Eddie. We match!” You grab him by the shoulders and he jumps back at your touch. Why do people keep doing that?

“Yeah sweetheart, we match. You look really good tonight. Have you had fun so far? Besides the whole.. Y’know…” He gestures to your leg and you wince, remembering that it’s there.

“Yes Eddie. S’much fun. Steve taking care of me.” Your words are slurring and you know you're not going to recover from this tonight. It’s gonna be a long weekend.

“I can see he’s taking care of you. I’m glad you’re having fun.” he passes you the joint and you happily take it into your greedy hands. If you smoke maybe that will outweigh the drunkenness that’s completely enveloped you.

“Eddie. Need you to talk to Steve. He’s righhhhttt hereeeee!” Eddie freezes again. You can feel his body go stiff underneath your hands.

Again, more silence fills the room. Neither of them want to talk to each other. But they need to talk to each other. You need to make things okay between them. You can fix this!

“Okay. You two won’t talk.” You cross your arms against your chest. “Then I will talk. You two, I like you both. I like being with you both. I wanna be with you both.”

“I don’t know if that can happen…” Eddie finally is the one to speak.

“It can happen! I swear it can happen.” You throw your arms up in defeat.

“Honey, maybe one day we can be friends… but right now I don’t know.” You can barely hear Steve over the sound of your heart beating in your chest. Eddie looks stunned by Steve’s words. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it just as fast.

“Eddie. Say what y’wanna say. I sawww that.”

“Friends Harrington? Really?” Eddie hisses.

“She wants us to be civil man, I don’t know! I don’t know how to navigate all of this!”

A fuse ignites between the two boys and it’s only a matter of time before the bomb goes off. The only thing you can think of to do now is sit and watch it all unfold.

“You don’t know how to navigate all of this?! You think I do?! You think I know how to deal with any of this?!”

“Well you sure as hell had time to think about it! I thought about it! I can tolerate you for her sake! I can know that she’s with you at the same time as me and you know why? Because I love her! I don’t fucking care!” Steve’s voice raises higher with each sentence.

“Oh! You love her huh? You usually move on that quickly?!” Eddie's accusatory tone comes off as super cold and bitter.

Steve freezes. His tone softens at the accusation.

“Eddie. I- I didn’t mean it like that..”

“Like what? You don’t love her or you haven’t moved on?” The beautiful metal heads arms cross tightly across his chest.

They stare at each other. You close your gaping mouth, you think it’s been open this whole time. You're suddenly really aware that your tongue is dry.

“I- I don’t really know..” Steve looks at the ground. Tears fill his eyes as he realizes the implication of what he just said.

The tension in the room grows even thicker, a wave of anxiety hits you like a freight truck. You think you're gonna throw up. You don’t wanna throw up. Panic sets in and your ears start to ring. You can’t hear anything that the two of them are trying to say to you. All you can hear is that damn ringing. Your vision is going fuzzy and your head is pounding. This isn’t good.

The weekends are bleak when you have nothing to do. I could work on some music but instead I’m just laying here, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the two of them together. Why did I think that something this good was going to stay around? It's my karma for being a scared piece of shit. She's probably in his arms, in his bed, spending her Sunday with him. That should be me. But do I want to be him or her in this scenario? Fuck. I need to get high so I can forget about all of this.

My lucky lunch box is in the van, of course it is. At least the sun is shining and the wind isn't so bad, I shouldn't smoke in the house with Uncle Wayne here anyways.

Reluctantly I get up onto my feet, feeling a slight sense of vertigo as I haven't been vertical in a while, my bed swallowing me in comfort and misery. At least I still have today to drown in my sorrows.

I pop open the back of the van, climbing inside to shield myself from nosy onlookers. Not that there's anyone out here anyways and also not like everybody doesn’t know that I smoke. Hell, half of the residents here get their shit from me. One perk of living here is that most straight edge people don’t end up in the trailer park.

Rolling up a perfect joint has become one of my favorite things to do in life. When things go to shit I can always rely on it to calm my nerves. I carefully run my tongue over the glue to seal this one to perfection and spark up the lighter. As my sweet release meets my lips the low rumble of a familiar car engine stops parallel to my van. I wasn’t expecting anyone today…

I pop my head out the back and there she is getting out of that little Honda of hers. Y/N. Looking as fucking gorgeous as ever. What the fuck is she doing here?

It’s too late though, she sees me scramble back into the van, trying desperately to hide my face. Try to act cool Munson. She hurt you. You trusted her. She can’t just show up here and expect me to grovel at her feet. That’s not me… But she makes me feel like it could be.

A knock on the open van doors startles me out of my internal rant and she peeks inside before I can tell her to go away.

“H-hi… Can we talk?” She looks so sad. Her face gives away that she’s been crying. Blotchy red spots cover her neck and her eyes are sunken in and glassy. She’s fidgeting with her fingers, looking down, not wanting me to see through her but she’s so easy to read. I can’t just tell her to go away like this. I can’t run away from everything.

I pat the spot next to me and usher her to come join me. She awkwardly climbs into the back with me, the already cramped trunk forces her to sit awkwardly, trying to twist her body so she’s not touching me. She pulls a cigarette from the front pocket of her flannel, sticking it between her lips so she can grab a light. Before she can even take it out of the same pocket, my hand instinctively makes it way over and lights it for her. She takes a deep inhale and nods a silent thank you. The smell of tobacco and weed mixing together creates a hazy atmosphere in what was supposed to be my safe haven.

“Listen, Eddie, I-I’m so sorry. I never ever meant to hurt you. I’ve been so fucking miserable the past few days. So fucking miserable.” She bites her lip as her eyes start to well up again. “I meant what I said. Everything that I said. I don’t like keeping secrets from the people I care about and I fucking care about you a lot Eddie. I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks. I like you and I like him. I can’t help my feelings. Would you rather have entangled our lives even further and then found out?” A huff escapes my lips as I try to soak in her speech, she notices and the tears start their free fall. All I want to do is reach up and wipe them away from her soft cheeks. To tell her that she doesn’t have to cry. Why is she crying over me anyways? I’m the freak. The town outcast. She starts to shake as the sobs come from deep inside of her. I can’t just keep staring at her. Not when she’s like this. The mix of emotions I’m feeling are fucking me up, this all has to be some cruel joke. No one would ever cry about me like this.

My arms wrap around her, pulling her into my lap as she buries her face into my jacket. Her hands stay in fists in her lap, manicured nails digging into her palms as she tries to ground herself. My face finds its way to the top of her head, inhaling her scent of weed and a floral perfume. It smells like heaven. It takes a moment but her sobs wither down to whimpers.

“Listen, sweetheart.. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that I freaked out and tried to push you away immediately. I just.. I just never had anyone besides…” I pause, I don’t want to even say his name right now. It’s not about him. It’s about her. “I just haven’t had anyone care about me like this this quickly. I kinda figured it would be too good to be true once I realized you were friends with him as well. Everyone loves him y’know?” I reach down and turn her face up to mine, she melts into the palm of my hand against her cheek and nods her head. “I just, I don’t know if I can do it. Be in competition with him.”

“It’s not a competition. I- I just like you both so much and I don’t know what to do…” her voice gets weaker as it trails off.

“Sweetheart, I can’t decide for you… But I guess I can be there for you until you do decide. Besides, I kind of like having you around…”

Her face lights up as soon as she hears those words. I can’t help but press a small kiss on her forehead as she gains her composure.

“Eddie, I like having you around too. Like a lot. Like I’ve been so anxious all day thinking about coming over here. I just wanted you to know how I feel. I’m not using you for anything, I don’t think you’re a freak and I fricken like you so much. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you… I thought my notes might’ve scared you off too…”

The note. I almost forgot about that. It slipped out of my notebook when I finally opened it midway through second period on Friday. I was just so angry I couldn’t look her in the face at all. Couldn’t put myself in a losing battle quite yet. It didn’t scare me off, it just made me sad. Made me want to throw my arms around her and hug her tighter than ever before. It made me want to pepper her sweet face with kisses until she's smiling so hard her cheeks hurt.  Then the second one appeared in my locker before lunch and I had to get the hell out of there. My van was the only safe place in the school I could run to but even there I wasn’t safe. Seeing her running out of the doors and into the pouring rain, her makeup already ruined before the rain made it even worse. I’d made her cry and I was so ashamed of myself for hurting her that way. It broke my fucking heart to see that. Hellfire ended up being cut short too late that night. I couldn’t fucking stand myself and I was being a dick to the kids, well more of a dick than usual. Dustin definitely picked up on it too. The notes didn’t scare me, my feelings did.

“No no baby, I thought the notes were sweet.. I just couldn’t face you. Not yet at least. I didn’t even think I was going to be able to face you tomorrow at school but I guess you made that decision for me..”

“I’m sorry.. I just couldn’t leave it how it was. I couldn’t face you without knowing where we stand.” She grabs another cigarette from her pocket and again I light it without hesitation. “Where do we stand?”

“Well we're sitting right now but I guess we can stand outside the van. Neighbors might see you and hate me even more than they already do though.” I shrug, trying to lighten the mood.

“Edward Munson!” a light slap hits my chest as she laughs. “Are you saying I look like shit?”

“Well sweetheart, it looks like you’ve been crying and to me, it’s kind of hot. Not gonna lie to ya, but other people might think I hurt ya or something. Remember I’m not looked at very fondly and if your little friend across the street sees you like this I think she’ll cut my head off.”

I pull my sleeve down around my hand and try to wipe the makeup off her face. Black streaks trail from her eyes down to her chin disappear as I gently scrub them away. It leaves red marks in its wake, her skin so sensitive to the touch. A slight movement exposes the hickies I made on her neck and I freeze, reliving the moment my lips made contact with her and created those beautiful marks. She notices and tries to adjust the collar of her flannel but it's too late. All the blood rushes to my dick and it’s hard to hide it when she’s sitting right on my lap.

“I guess that means that we’re good then.” She bites her lip and rocks ever so slightly on my hard cock. She is going to be the death of me.

“Y-yeah. We’re good. I’m sorry I just went somewhere else entirely.”

“Oh I can feel that. Where’d you go? Is it somewhere I’d want to join you?” 

“Most definitely sweetheart. But not right now. Not just yet.”

She understands and stops her movement, cursing myself for even saying that.

“Eddie, can I ask you a favor?”

“Yeah sweetheart, what’s up?”

“You don’t have to do it. But just.. Can you just think about talking to Steve? I’m still throwing that party on Halloween and I’d really like you to come. I just know that he’s going to be there too and I want there to eventually be no bad blood between you guys. I know that's like, huge of me to ask, but I thought that I’d try y’know..”

“Oh Y/N..”

I look into her eyes and see no malice behind them. She really just wants us both in her life and of course Harrington said that he would still be there for her. Behind his tough asshole exterior is a giant softie. Someone who just wants to be loved. She’s just like him in that way. I don’t know if I can talk to him but I can at least try to make it to the party. I can avoid him. Yeah, avoid him. There will be enough people there to hide in the shadows and if I can’t do that then I can hide on the roof. Or leave. But I need to be there for her. Can’t make her cry again, I can’t fucking do that.

“I think I’m gonna go Eddie.” She scoots off of my lap and makes her way to the edge of the open van doors. I follow her, not wanting to let go of her yet but I get it if she needs to leave. She stands on the ground and I sit on the ledge, feet dangling and idly swinging back and forth. She leans in and kisses me softly. Her lips are so fucking plush. She tastes like heaven and I don’t want to stop. If I stop then she might disappear.

I slip my tongue into her mouth and she allows me to explore, tongues dancing against each other. My hand goes and cradles the back of her head, bringing her as close to me as I possibly can. Need her right now. Need to feel her. My other hand travels to her lower back, pressing her body against mine. She stumbles forward and almost loses her balance, breaking the kiss in the process. Fuck.

“Eddie.. I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” A devilish grin spreads across her face as a look of defeat graces mine.

“Tomorrow. I’ll be there. I-I mean I’ll see you in school.”

She walks over to her car and gets inside, turning the radio up slightly and checking her face out in the mirror. She seems to be satisfied with the attempt I made at cleaning her up. She leaves, the sound of Queen fading out in the distance as she gets closer to the exit of the trailer park. I don’t even feel high anymore, the emotional roller coaster she put me through ruining any bliss that came from the weed. 

You start with your room, grabbing all the laundry, which is of course a mountain at this point, and drag it downstairs to the laundry room. You had to do acrobatics to strip your bed which, if there was a hidden camera in your room, would capture the absolute fail of you falling off your bed at one point trying to get the damn fitted sheet off. Your desk is full of old, bad sketches that you need to throw out. You gather all the garbage in your room and bring the trash out. You're feeling like a boss bitch at this point, getting everything organized and together. Time to clean the bathroom which is not your favorite but it’s gotta be done. Lavender spilled out of the satchel during last night's bath so you need to get that cleaned up, a grim reminder of the thoughts that flooded your head. No no, gotta keep yourself motivated, can’t think of anything that’s going to upset you today. You let yesterday kick your ass but today is a new day. 

After everything is done up here it’s time to face your mortal enemy, the dishes. You throw on the radio to a random station in the kitchen and get to work. The monotony of this isn’t helping the thoughts as they drift off into bad territory again. You just want Eddie to talk to you again. You don’t even care if he stays mad at you, he’s not going to leave you with no closure like he did with Steve. You're not going to let him. You know that he lives across the road from Max, you’ve seen his van there in the past when dropping her off after she moved over to the trailer park. If you don’t hear from him by tomorrow you're driving your ass over to his house and making him talk to you. You don’t even care if you look like a psycho at that point. You're not letting this go. Not letting him run away from you like he did with Steve. 

After what feels like forever the dishes are done and put away. You think that it’s time I get your ass out of the house and go get some supplies. You don’t even know how many people are going to end up showing up to this but thankfully my parents left you a good chunk of change to get through their absence. You don’t think they really realize how much things cost so you can go a bit overboard with the decor and supplies. You're going to have to go basement diving to find all our Halloween decorations when you get home but since this is your favorite holiday you don’t really mind. It’s nice to be able to decorate how you want without your parents needing things in the exact right spot. They’ve always been perfectionists when it comes to what the house looks like. Especially your mom, the living room is a big example of what she expects. Everything is in it’s place and if it’s not then you and Dad are sure to hear it. You used to play little pranks on her when you were younger and switch around a sculpture or slightly move a painting and she would have this weird sixth sense and just know that you messed with things.

You grab your keys from the hallway table and run out the door. It's freezing out today but you don’t mind, it just gives you an excuse to stay inside and watch horror movies. You're not too far from Main Street but it gives you just enough time to listen to a few songs off of your Iron Maiden cassette. You're dressed in baggy jeans and a big sweater today, hair thrown up into a bun from all the cleaning, you don’t have anyone to impress today so lazy attire it is. Main Street is pretty busy with all the festivities going on. Passing by Melvalds always makes me sad. You miss when Joyce and El and Will and Jonathan were all still here. El calls when she can but you're still worried about her adapting in California. She has her family with her there but you've basically adopted her as your little sister, so you worry. Max has gone into her own shell so it’s like you’ve lost both your little sisters within the span of a few months. You think you'll go visit Max tomorrow, it’ll give you an excuse to see if Eddie’s home as well.

You pulled into the parking lot for the Halloween store. It’s a little generic pop up that comes around here every year but you can’t get enough of it. When you were a kid you would beg your parents to bring you here, and they’d tell you all the time “You have enough decorations!”. But they’d still bring you around every year and you'd pick out your costume and a little decoration and get a small pumpkin to paint. It’s the little things and traditions that you’ll always keep dear to your heart.

Walking into the place hits you with a wave of happy nostalgia. Costumes litter the front area and all the cool decorations are in the back. You should get a costume while you're here right? There’s so many bitchin’ costumes this year. You go through the music section and debate going the sexy route with a Cindi Lauper costume but then the horror section catches your eye. A cute little Freddy Krueger costume could definitely work for you. Especially if Robin and Vickie are going the horror route too. You snag one in your size and decide to grab a cart from the front and then make your way to the decor and party supplies. You seriously still have no idea how many people are going to show up so you just start throwing tons of plastic cups into the cart. Purples, blacks, oranges… you want to make things look as good as possible. Streamers and spider webs and everything creepy just keeps going into the cart. Quite a few pumpkins as well. You know you have lights at home but you grab a few more boxes of purple lights and a couple black lights to replace the light bulbs already in the house and when the cart starts to overflow you decide that you're finally finished. If you're going to go all out on something it might as well be your first rebellion of throwing a house party when your parents aren’t home. 

The checkout girl doesn’t seem thrilled at your huge cart of stuff but you just wait until she has everything scanned and bagged and pay her your dues. There’s way too many bags for you to carry so you just take the cart out with you, promising her that you'll bring it back. She shrugs you off and you make your way to fill up your trunk with all these goodies. As you're getting your last bag into the trunk you hear your last name being called by none other than resident jackass Jason Carver and his little gang following behind him.

“What the fuck do you want Carver?”

“No need to be so angry Y/LN, heard you’re having a party next week, seems like that’s true huh?”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. And if it was, it's not like your any of your dumbasses are invited.”

“We don’t want to go to your lame ass party, we have our own. But what we do need is your freak boyfriend. You see him around, tell him we have a deal to make.”

“Find him yourself. I’m not your puppy.”

“Feisty eh? Well then..” He moves closer so that he’s invading your personal space, his hand resting on your car and you're getting really uncomfortable with this whole ordeal. “If you really wanna try to make my life difficult then the same will happen to you too freak.” He leaves your personal bubble but not without blowing a kiss your way. Disgusting. You need to get the fuck out of here.

You hurry back into your car and drive the hell away. Part of you doesn't even wanna drive home at this point but you know that if you go and decorate and distract yourself you'll feel better. You shouldn't be scared of Jason, he's some wormy pathetic piece of shit with a huge ego. You've fought monsters way worse than him. Fuck him. 

You peel into your driveway and get to work getting all the bags out of your trunk and into the house. It's colder out today but the weight of carrying everything is keeping you warm. You suppose you don't need the cups or plates yet so you tuck them into the corner of the kitchen counter. You should get everything together from the basement before you even start to decorate so you make your way down with your huge flashlight and knife if you run into anything alive down there. You never know what's going to happen nowadays. Thankfully Mom keeps things nice and organized so it doesn’t take much time to get all the boxes stacked neatly by the bottom of the stairs. This is going to be a bitch but you have to do it. The first box isn’t as bad as you thought but you got distracted and went to go get a soda from the fridge for a little extra energy but as soon as you pop the tab the doorbell rings. You're not expecting anyone today but with your set of friends there's no telling who’s behind that door. You're pleasantly surprised when you open it and see Steve, Robin and Dustin hiding behind them.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?”

“Well I went to annoy them over at Family Video and then their shift ended and they mentioned possibly visiting you even though you wanted to be alone today, so I used my boyish charm to tag along. I don’t know why they’re here though.” Dustin flashes his signature toothy smile and makes his way inside, leaving your two other friends to stand sheepishly on the porch.

“We just wanted to check on you.. I know you said you wanted a hermit day but I refuse to let my best friend go through anything alone. Dingus here was my ride and then little dingus wouldn’t let us leave without him. So now we’re all here.”

“That’s fine Rob, I was getting lonely anyways. Besides, I have plenty of work that needs to be done and it’ll go a hell of a lot quicker with all of you here.” You pat Steve’s back and walk inside with both of them. Dustin’s already sitting on the couch but not for long, no way are you going to be bringing those boxes up with them here.

“So! I ran out to the Halloween store today and picked up a few things, well a lot of things, plus I have about six more boxes in the basement of decorations that need to be brought up. Henderson, do you mind helping Steve grab the boxes while me and Robin get all these decorations out?”

“You got it boss!” Dustin jumps up happy to help but Steve already looks miserable and shuffles his way to the basement stairs.

They make their descent and as soon as they’re out of earshot Robin turns to you,

“Are you okay? Like for real?”

You ponder the question for a second. Are you okay? I mean it feels like everything is coming down around you and she’s the only constant in your life. Steve isn’t even talking to you really even though he’s here, and Eddie just isn’t talking to you anymore and you've probably lost him. You're miserable but you're just trying your best to be okay and you're more focused on this party than anything.

“I'm alright I guess. I really need to make things right with Eddie. I've just felt so empty the last few days without him… I know it sounds crazy but it's true. Then Steve is acting weird right now so I don't know how that's even going…”

“Well I'm the one who dragged him here. I figured if I was here as a buffer things wouldn't be too bad but then little dingus came along so I think he's bummed about that. He brought some good shit with him so that plans no good now.”

“Ah shit. Could've used that. Had a run in with Carver today that kinda has me shaken up..”

“What the fuck did Carver do to you?” Steve comes up from around the corner, visibly pissed.

You turn to face him, hands on your hips while he drops the boxes to the floor. “I went to the store today to buy more decorations for the party and him and his little gang cornered me by my car. He said he wanted something from Eddie but I haven't heard from him so…”

“Hey you haven't heard from him either? Weird.” Dustin puts his box down neatly on top of the ones Steve threw down on the floor, oblivious to what's really going on. “He was acting weird during our session yesterday. Cut it way shorter than usual. Like we barely did anything! And he was so mean… You guys get into a fight or something?”

“Or something…You don't have to worry one bit about it though. I'm sure he'll be in better spirits soon. It's almost Halloween, there's nothing better right?” Steve looks relieved by your save, sighing as he goes back down the stairs for the last of the boxes.

“Right Y/N… and you know.. we could all still come to your party eh?” 

Robin interjects, “Not a chance are any of you dinguses coming,  nu uh, nope. The adults need some party time of our own without worrying about you rascals getting into anything.”

“But I wanna see you guys drunnnnk!” Dustin whines back to Robin. She laughs a little too loud and he looks almost offended. Thankfully Steve rounds the corner again and breaks it up, putting the rest of the boxes down gently this time.

“Henderson. No parties yet. I may be the baby sitter ninety percent of the time but Halloween is my night off. Now, do you wanna help decorate or do you want to complain in front of our friends?” Dustin shakes his head at the latter and starts to open up the closest box to him and get to work.

Steve has always been a mentor to those kids, especially Dustin. He acts like he's his big brother. Teaches him about the world and girls and how to get your hair juuuust right. You can already see the way he's falling under Eddie's wing as well though. The attitude and the reignited love of DnD just pouring out of him. They've been thick as thieves ever since Eddie plucked them out of the sea of freshmen in the cafeteria on that first day of school. Dustin's completely in the dark about everything that's gone on between them though, you wonder if he's ever tried to get them to hang out together.

We all get to work following Dustin's suit. You throw the radio on for some background noise and we all start to make this place look killer. Pumpkins all in their places, ghosts and streamers littering the ceiling. You make a mental map of where all your mothers breakables are before moving them to safety. If you know one thing, it's that the creative kids know how to party and you're not getting caught from someone breaking something.

We're about halfway through our work when the sound of static hisses from Dustin's bag.

“Dustin, do you copy? Over.”

You've never been more happy to hear Mike's voice.

“Dustin? Are you there? Over.”

He hops up and grabs the walkie from his backpack.

“I'm here. At Y/N's house helping with decorations for her stupid party we're not allowed to go to. Over.”

“Seriously dude? Get your ass over to the arcade. I know you're in love with the girl but we have high scores we need to take back. Over.”

Dustin freezes and looks back at you, Steve and Robin, whispering back into the walkie. “God dammit Mike. I'll be there soon.”

“You forgot to say over. Over.”

Dustin slams the antenna down, his face turning a crimson red. He doesn't even acknowledge you, wanting to get out of here as soon as he can.

“S-Steve? Can you bring me to the arcade pretty please?”

“You sure you don't wanna ask your girlfriend for a ride? Get some alone time?” Steve laughs as he grabs his keys out of his pocket and walks towards the door. Dustin punching him in the side as he hurries out without even saying goodbye. Mike is in a world of hurt when he sees him. Steve closes the door and assures us he'll be back in a minute and you're just glad for actual alone time with Robin.

“Aw the little dingus has a crush on you. He's more like his friends than he thought!”

“Yeah Eddie told me he has a crush but I thought it was bullshit.”

“So what are you going to do?”

You shrug your shoulders and answer playfully, “Probably tell Dustin he has no chance with me. Let him down gently. Can't break that kids heart y'know?” 

“Oh you ass you know what I mean!” Robin throws a streamer in your direction, missing you by a good three feet of course.

You really have no idea what you're going to do. The possibilities of the whole situation swirl around in your brain and concoct several different scenarios that in turn start the spiral into madness all over again. You could wait for him to reach out to you and he never does. You can go over there, march up to the trailer and tell him he's not allowed to run this time. That he needs to stick this out and work with you. He could go in an entirely different direction and go back to Steve all together and then you’d be alone. Alone again. Always fucking alone.

No. You can't start the spiral. The fucking spiral will always take you into its currents and drown you in its sorrow. You fought those thoughts all summer, they’re not coming back to haunt you now. Not when you fell into its clutches and clawed your way back to the surface. With Eddie you can finally breathe again. You actually feel good. You don’t feel like a useless sack of shit like how you did. How you watched Billy die and couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. To watch Max fall apart like how she did, screaming, you couldn’t help her either. But you realized, you saved Dustin’s life. You shoved him away from certain fate as the Mindflayer tried it’s damndest to each and every one of our lives. You did that. You can certainly take on this precarious situation however you need to. You can’t lose Eddie already and you can’t lose Steve. Steve was your ground. The one that was there for you the entire time you were putting yourself back together. And maybe it’s not fair that your feelings for Eddie came and hit you like a brick wall, but you can’t help how you feel. You can’t help any of this. 

“Earth to Y/N?! I’m losing you here..” Robin comes up and places her hand on your shoulder. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t even realize the way you shifted back into your old self. 

“Yeah… yeah sorry Rob. I’m here. I’m just… I don’t even know. I don’t want to fuck anything else up with Eddie alright? I don’t really even know what to do at this point. I- I really like him and I really like Steve too. I just don’t want to choose…”

“Can’t always get what you want I guess. I mean, I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop with Vickie. Sure things went great but what if she like, changes her mind? Tells everybody about me? Then I end up the town pariah and I’ll have to hide until I graduate and hope to god that I get into a good school in New York and run away with you.”

You’ve been so up your own ass you haven’t even asked your own best friend about her own love life that’s slowly starting to heat up. Fuck you're a bad friend.

“Robin, oh my god. I’m the worst. Please, tell me all about what happened on your little shopping trip. Give me some good news for once.”

Her face lights up instantly, the smile reaching from ear to ear as she tells you all about their after school excursion. You're elated for her. Her love life isn’t something that can just be flaunted and talked about freely. You feel for her. All you’ve ever wanted is to see her be happy with someone, be comfortable loving the woman she gives her heart to. To feel free. You're glad that she can just let her guard down and be her authentic self with you. You've known since early high school. While you were crushing on the flavor of the week, she was always quiet. Not gushing over the same guys that you were and while you were happy you had no competition for your made up scenarios of young love, you wanted your best friend to have the same. You've always been a hopeless romantic, so while pointing out who’s cute and who’s not to your favorite person, she may have tried to hide it but her sights were always on one person. Not the cute boy laughing and leaning on the desk, but the girl who’s joke he was laughing at. Tammy Thompson. The first girl who ever captured Robin’s fragile little heart. The first one to break it as well when she knew she had no chance. But Vickie is different. Vickie is like her. You'll be damned if you have to watch her heart break again.

In the thick of the conversation the door swings back open and King Steve waltzes in without a care of what he’s interrupted.

“Looks good in here. Way better than what Henderson and myself could have done. Should just use us for the heavy lifting from now on” he lumbers over to the fridge and grabs himself another Coke. “Wanna go to the roof and celebrate this win?”

“Oh hell yeah I do. Need to take a break after all of this.” Your hands wave wildly about trying to convince yourself that you just need a break from the decorating and the party stress. But we all know that that’s not true. That your brain is most certainly stuck between a rock and a hard place. That you can’t stop thinking about the way Eddie’s body felt against yours. The way his tongue moved against your core. The deep purple marks on your body that showed the world that you were his to claim. Instinctively your legs squeezed together as your body reacted to the more sinful thoughts that were swirling around in your head.

“You gonna go upstairs or you gonna sit there and stare into space?” Steve’s voice breaks the trance that you’ve fallen into, willing you back to the living room where your friends stand and wait.

Steve and Robin stare you down as you pull yourself together and make your way up to your room. Climbing out the window to start the ritual we’ve all become accustomed to, Steve pulls out the joints and lights them up for you and Robin. Rob is such a light weight, taking a few drags of hers and handing it off to Steve like usual. Her demeanor softens as she lays back onto the roof and closes her eyes. A smile sprawls across her face again and you hope she’s day dreaming about a certain someone.

Steve leans back with her, blowing his smoke straight up into the air and motions for you to join their cuddle pile. You give in, lowering your body down next to Steve’s, carefully maneuvering yourself so that we don’t touch. You don’t think you can with the way your body is buzzing by just being next to him. 

This is all so unfair. You know this is such a bullshit thing to be upset over, being in love with two people, but after the shit that you went through you think you deserve a little bit of happiness. But is it going to cost you your friendship? You look over at Steve, he’s deep in thought as well. His eyebrows are knitted together forming a little V shape between them. You wonder what he’s thinking about. Robin’s got her eyes closed still, in her own little world, falling asleep with Steve’s arm slung lazily around her. Soft snores emanate from your best friend and you can’t help but laugh to yourself, that gets Steve’s attention onto you and we lock eyes. He lets out his own laugh, gently so as to not wake sleeping beauty.

“How are you feeling?”

“Why is everyone always worrying about how I’m feeling and not about their own issues?”

“Okay, uh, ouch. Tell me how you really feel.” the sarcasm drips off his tongue as he talks. You shouldn’t be so bitter about everything right now but you can’t help it. You want the two men in your life to get their shit together and figure their shit out so you can figure yours out.

“I need you and Eddie to talk. Like yesterday. I can’t move forward in my life without this being cleared up.” Direct and to the point.

“How is that fair Y/N? You have no idea the pain that he put me through. The shit that I had to deal with with him. I shouldn’t have to put myself through that again just so that you can get laid. That shit’s not fair. I’ll talk to him if he initiates the conversation, but nope, not going to go groveling to the man who broke my heart. You’re crazy if you think that’s gonna happen.”

“I’m crazy?!” You try to keep your voice to a whisper but it comes out more like a hiss. “Steve Harrington you do not get to call me crazy. I’ve been through so much shit this year, I think I deserve to be a little selfish!”

“That’s exactly it! You are being selfish! I went through the same shit as you! SAME SHIT!” He’s getting louder and Robin stirs. He notices and lowers his voice back down a few octaves. “You’re being ridiculous. Can we not fight over this? Can you get over your petty bullshit? I said I was going to be there no matter what. I like you a lot for fucks sake. But can you pull your head out of your ass and look at the bigger picture?” He pulls out a smoke and lights it up, shaking his head at you.

You feel like you're going to cry again. You pull out a smoke of your own and he wordlessly hands you over the lighter, even when he’s mad at me some things just stay the same. Burning your lungs with smoke, you try to choke back the sob that’s threatening to leave your throat. Eyes stinging with tears, about to spill out and give you away at any moment. You're so fucking glad Robin sleeps like the dead. You try to hide in your hair to no avail, Steve notices the way your body starts to tremble, always so attune to what you're feeling.

You are being selfish. You're being a big piece of shit and an even shittier friend. What kind of spell do these men have over you?

“Shit, no no no, I wasn’t trying to make you cry.” He slips away from Robin and his arm finds it’s way around your waist. “Seriously, please don’t cry. I- I just need you to know how I’m feeling too.” Steve sighs.

“No you’re right.” You wipe away the tears that are welling up. “I’m being a shitty friend. I’m thinking about myself when you have done so much more for me than I can even thank you for. I- I’m sorry Steve.” You try to hide your face with your hands but he tenderly moves them away from your face.

“I forgive you. You’re thinking with your heart and not your head.” He taps from your chest to your head, a smile cracking on his face. “I mean what I said.” His free hand grabs yours and he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. His hands are so much bigger than yours, calloused from work and little scars pepper his own knuckles from fights in the past. “I like you a lot. Like a whole lot. And I want a chance to show you how I feel.”

You lay your head on his shoulder, the buzzing feeling stops as you settle into your safe space. Any other time and this would be heaven, but you feel so torn and so awful that you weren’t allowing yourself to feel the serenity that you usually would.

“I’ll take that as everything’s okay now” Steve places a kiss on the top of your head and you hum back in response. The tears stop as quickly as they came in and you take a deep breath. Turning your head to look Steve in the eyes, he meets your gaze, his eyes darting between yours and your lips. You can cut the tension with a knife and that knife happens to be named Robin.

“Hey were you crying?” Robin rubs the sleep out of her eyes, studying the reactions from her two best friends.

“Nah just some smoke in my eye Rob.” You shrug your shoulders. Steve takes his arm off of your waist, trying to move stealthily so Robin doesn’t notice anything. It’s not like she just woke up to us almost kissing or anything.

“Okay good!” she yawns and joins us in sitting up. “I don’t know about the two of you but I’m starving. Pizza? Steve’s treat.”

Should you call Eddie to come back over and talk to him? If this thing with Steve was a one off thing should you just not tell him? No… no, if it were you you'd be pissed if he didn't tell me and you found out some other way. Are you going to lose both of them because you can't fucking keep it in your pants or keep your head on straight?

Steve was honest with you and you appreciate that but never in a million years did you think that they were a thing, like a real, intense, relationship. Looking back Steve really wasn't hitting on anyone at Scoops and you thought maybe it was because of the uniform being so dorky but you were there with them almost every day, and in turn you saw Eddie there like…a lot. And there were the times that they'd go into the back room together, locking the door and window so that Robin couldn't get in, much to her annoyance. You thought they were just doing a deal but shit they could've been doing anything you guess at that point. Stolen kisses between them while leaving Robin to deal with the annoying kids wanting samples of all the flavors. The mysterious hickeys that would show up on his neck despite him claiming he didn't go on a date. You just… your can't wrap your head around it. 

You knew something was wrong around the time they broke up, you just thought that shit was bad at home and them not being friends anymore was just the cherry on top of the usual crap he had to deal with. You tend to be able to hone in on when someone's upset so you comforted him as much as you could. You didn't expect him to fall for you because of that. You didn’t expect any of this. 

In a sick way this is what you wanted isn’t it? You wanted both of them… and you kind of got both of them. But the hurt between the two of them still, there’s something there. They both still love each other. You can tell. They both want to say that they like or love me but… You can tell there’s something still deep between them that neither of them want to let go of, or have closure for. You need to find a way for all of us to talk. Need to find a way to make peace and if you lose them both to each other then… then you don’t know. You don’t want to think about that right now.

You need to do something to keep your mind off of this, just until school lets out and you can grab Robin before anyone else does. You grab your sketchbook from off your desk and roll up your own joint before you head out to the roof again. It’s always been your safe space, any time anything bad happens, you’ll find me on my corner of the roof, daydreaming or drawing. You've even fallen asleep up here before much to your parents dismay. You flip through the pages trying to find the first blank one when you stumble across Eddie’s handwriting, his character sheet. You might as well work on this, even if it’s the last thing you ever do for him.

You spark up the joint and start by doing a full sketch of him, adding in every detail of his that you’ve memorized. The crinkle in his eyes when he smiles, his dimples, the way his curls compliment his face. He described himself as a bard, so you started to draw him in the appropriate clothing. You add a cloak to make him a little bit more mysterious since he already has that aura to him to anyone who doesn’t know him personally. The cherry on top, a guitar sword combo weapon. It’s starting to look pretty badass when you peep inside your window to check the time, schools almost out. Shit. Gotta grab Robin before someone else does. She probably already has Steve lined up to pick her up but you don’t care. You snub out the rest of the joint, grab your sketch book, climb back into the window and run down the stairs to get to your car. You drive way quicker than you normally do to try to get to the school before the last bell rings. No time to even think or put on music, you drive silently, just concentrating on getting there in one piece.

You pull into your normal spot with about a minute to spare. You get out and sit on your hood so that you can catch her attention when she eventually comes out when he rolls up in his car and parks beside you. Steve rolls down his window and leans out.

“You uh… you picking her up?”

You cross your arms and not dare to look his way. Your sunglasses thankfully hiding most of your face.

“Yeah I got her today. Didn’t get the chance to call and tell her though so I thought I’d just sit here and wait.”

“Yeah yeah… smart idea…” He pauses for a moment as kids start to file out of the doors. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Yeah I think that’d be a good idea.”

“You’re not mad at me are you?”

You sigh and finally look his way.

“No Steve, not mad, just confused about everything and a little stressed out. You can’t blame me for feeling like this right now. I just need some time with my thoughts, think things through. I think you should be doing the same right about now… and not just about me.”

“I… I think I know what you mean… alright Y/N, I’ll see you soon. Don’t get me in too much trouble with her.”

“Now that, I can’t promise that in the slightest.”

He laughs and starts his car back up and drives away. You don’t know what’s taking Robin so long but you have no time to ponder when Dustin sneaks up on you.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?” He gives you the biggest hug and all your worries melt away for the moment.

“Hey kid! Just here to pick up Robin. Anything fun happen today?”

“Nah, nothing too crazy. Mike almost fell out of his chair at lunch because Lucas said something funny. Eddie wasn’t here either today. Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

“No, nothing you need to worry your little head about.”

“Alrighhttt… but I’m keeping an eye on you two. Something’s going on I can feel it.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry, I won’t take away your favorite person.”

“Suzie is my favorite person. Then maybe you. So you’d never take my favorite person away.”

“When did you get so smooth?”

“I blame Suzie.” He shrugs and fixes his backpack. 

“Hey, do you know where Robin is?”

“Idunno, saw her with that red headed girl from band. They were walking together in the hall earlier. Maybe she’s with her?”

Of course just at that moment Robin walks out the doors of the school, bumping shoulders with Vickie, laughing together about something.

“Yeah… I think you’re right actually”

Dustin turns at the distinct sound of Robin's laugh and waves her over. She’s surprised to see you.

“Hey Rob! I sent Harrington away. I’m kidnapping you today. 911 situation.”

Her eyebrow raises in curiosity and she turns to Vickie, seems like you may have ruined her plans today for a change.

“911? Do I need to kick someone’s ass for you?” Dustin asks you, concern in his voice.

“No no, I just need some emergency girl time.”

“Say no more, I’ll see you later Y/N!”

He hops up onto his bike and starts to pedal towards home. You're glad that you have those little rascals in your life. They always keep you on your toes.

“Vick, do you mind if I go with Y/N? We can go to the costume shop tomorrow after school if you’re free.”

“No, not at all! Good luck with your emergency Y/N.”

They hug goodbye, a little bit too long for a ‘just a friend’ hug, but that’s something that’ll have to wait right now. You will probably explode if you have to keep any of this information inside of you any longer. They separate and Vickie walks over to her car so she can leave this hellhole as well. Robin climbs into my passenger seat while you start up the car and make your way back to your house.

“Okay this must be an emergency if you're speeding. What the hell happened to you?? Do I need to kick someone's ass?”

“As much as I would love watching you try to fight someone, you're gonna need to be stoned before I tell you anything. Trust me. It's big.”

“Alright I fully believe you. But I'm turning on the radio incase we die with your driving, I'm not going out in silence.”

She turns up the volume, finding a station that's playing some Bowie and we settle in for the rest of the drive back to my house. She’s singing along to the music but your head is a million miles away. You're still a bit stoned from before and you just want to get home and word vomit to Robin. 

We pull in and you quickly grab her inside and run up to your room, her clumsily following along up the stairs. You pull out a piece from your hiding spot next to your bed and your weed and pull her onto the roof. You pack the bowl for her like you usually do and let her go to town.

“So what the hell happened? Did Harrington do something or was it Munson?”

“Both? Maybe I did something? It’s all a mess right now.”

“Talk to me”

And you did. You told her everything. How Eddie and you hooked up twice. How we had an amazing morning and how everything went at the diner. How you stood up to Jason Carver and totally told him off like a badass. How you talked to Steve about what happened between him and Eddie. How you ended up hooking up with Steve and how that ended up going. She sat there and listened to every word that you said, shaking her head but staying silent and letting you get it all out. You felt like you were talking forever but it felt so cathartic.

“And so I just knew I needed to talk to you. Steve was at the school when I came to pick you up but I sent him away. I guess he didn’t know about you and Vickie either?”

“No no, I was gonna send him away too anyways, so it worked out. But holy shit Y/N. What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know! I have no idea what to do. I’ve never been in this kind of situation. You know me, I’ve only dated a few guys, hooked up with a few more, but this? This is brand new territory.”

“Well I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the whole Eddie and Steve thing… I didn't think it was my place to say anything y'know?”

“Nah don't be sorry. You're a good friend. It'd be like if I outed you and I'd never do that shit to ya.”

“I think you should date both of them. Why pick when they are both obviously in love with you.”

“I can’t do that… can I? Is that even possible? The two of them haven’t even gotten over their own shit yet.”

“Well at the very least you need to tell Eddie what happened. At least Steve knows that you hooked up with him already so it’s not like you’re gonna have to go through it twice.”

“Y’think it’s too late to call him now?”

“Probably not, that boy sounds like he would drop anything he’s doing to come see you.”

“I don't wanna cut us hanging out short though..”

“Don't even worry about it. Gives me more time to call Vickie”

“Okay but you have to tell me what's going on with that on the way to your house.”

“Deal”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Dustin seemed to notice you two spending a lot of time together today”

“Seriously? I gotta watch what I do in front of that dingus. He's too perspective for his age”

“Yeah well, all the kids are nosey.”

“Well I did sit with her at lunch today. Like… right next to her. I was gonna go to the library but she asked me when she noticed you weren't here. We were basically shoulder to shoulder all lunch. And she touched my arm. And I froze. Of course I froze. But then she asked if I wanted to go costume shopping today after school and I was totally going to but then you showed up and I'm not mad at you for it at all because WOW. But I'm totally going in there and calling her and not gonna be scared. Well… a little scared.”

“You go inside and enjoy your conversation. I'm gonna go home and possibly lose a person I really care about. If things are weird tomorrow during first period you know what went down.”

“Good luck, you're definitely gonna need it more than me”

She gives you a big hug and grabs her stuff and runs into her house. You smile to yourself knowing things are going in the right direction for her. For you though? Who the hell knows.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Back in my room, you stare at your phone, willing him to just call you so you don’t have to call him. But it’s something that you have to do. It’s not fair to him to just not know what happened after he left. Steve knows the majority of what happened with me and Eddie before he came over, so it’s only fair. It’s only like five o’clock, you don’t know if he’s home or not but you'll just have to try.

He answers on the third ring sounding out of breath.

“Hey uh… did I interrupt anything?”

“No no, just was laying down. Didn’t wanna miss the call. Are you okay?”

“Yeah yeah… I’m okay… but can we talk?”

“What’s up Y/N?”

You sigh. You guess it’s better to do this over the phone than in person. It would crush you if you could see any pain on his face after this.

“Well I talked to Steve… and he told me what happened between you guys…”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Confused.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t care that you’re bisexual Eddie. It surprised me at first, sure, but it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Hell I’m not sure that I’m fully straight but I just wanted to assure you that that kind of stuff doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is that I really like you…”

“And liking me is an issue?”

“No… the issue is I wasn’t completely honest with you either. After you and Steve were… together… we went through something kind of traumatic together, the mall fire, and I got hurt badly. He stayed by my side the whole summer and I kind of developed a crush on him during that time but I never brought it up to him, didn’t want to ruin our friendship and all that. But when he and I talked yesterday, he told me that he was in love with me… and it stirred my feelings back up… and he kissed me… and I let him…”

“I see…”

“I didn’t want to hide anything from you. I really like you too Eddie and now my brain is just all over the place. I don’t know what to do.”

“What am I supposed to tell you? To dump your best friend for someone like me? The freak of Hawkins High? Hell! Hawkins in general? You know what, I’m glad you two finally got your feelings out in the open. Feels great doesn’t it? To have people actually like you? I wouldn’t know that feeling. I had that feeling once before, with him, and I fucked that all up. And now of course the second person in my life that I ever wanted for more than just sex, someone that I could see myself being happy with, is involved with him of all people. Fucking hell.”

“Eddie… I… I really really like you. I just… fuck! I don’t know. I’ve never been in this kind of situation before! I’ve had boyfriends in the past but never anything serious. Never anything I wanted to keep forever. And now yeah, I have two amazing guys who like me, and I like you both! And it’s fucking with me. I don’t want to hurt either of you!”

“Yeah well, that’s a little unavoidable at this point Y/N.”

“Well… why can’t I go on dates with both of you?”

“Do you hear yourself Y/N? You’re being so fucking naive right now. You really need to get your priorities straight. It’s me or him and we all know who you’re going to pick. I can’t do this anymore tonight, I’ll see you around.”

“Eddie… I…”

The phone goes dead and you burst into tears. Why did this have to happen? Why did Steve have to fucking tell me that he was in love with me? Why now? Because you started getting close with Eddie? Did he just want to ruin what you had because he couldn't have it? And now what? You lose Eddie? He’s royally pissed at you but you weren't gonna sit there and be dishonest with him. If Steve knows what happened then Eddie deserves to know as well. You just feel like that’s fair. Robin’s told you that I’m a little too honest for your own good and maybe she’s right, but lying makes you feel awful and as soon as you get stoned you end up spilling everything from my stupid brain anyways. Seeing Eddie tomorrow is going to suck, you don’t know what you can even say to fix things. Maybe you should write him a note? You have to give him back his notebook anyway. You grab his notebook off your desk and grab your favorite purple pen and flip open to the first empty page. 

Eddie,

I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now but I want you to know how I’m feeling and sometimes I fuck things up with words. I don’t think before I speak and that tends to get me in trouble. I like you. I like you a lot. I’ve never felt so comfortable with a person as quickly as I did with you. I never had as much fun just eating waffles or doing school work with someone before. You’ve also been on my mind since last summer, but you disappeared, and suddenly finding you again, in English class, was like a miracle to me. I don’t think you’re a freak. I don’t think you’re awful. I think you’re wonderful. I think that you’re sweet and caring and that there’s a side of you that people don’t get to see that would make them regret any unkind word that they’ve ever said about you. I want to keep seeing that side of you. I want to know every part of you. What makes you scared. What makes you happy. Your life story. I want to know it all and I’m not scared of any of it. You are incredible. Please don’t ever forget that.

I am confused right now yes, but that doesn’t negate the feelings that I have for you, and if you can give me a chance, I promise I won’t fuck things up. I’ll keep being painfully honest with you and if you don’t like it you can tell me to shut up or you can just ignore me forever but I won’t hate you for it. I don’t think I can ever hate you. Shit, I’m rambling even on paper. I just wanted you to know how I feel and if you want to talk again then I’m always a phone call away.

-Y/N

PS; if you’re not mad at me when you read this and we’re okay then I hope that I haven’t made a complete fool out of myself. 

You finished the letter with a little doodle of two waffles holding hands, hoping that it lightens the mood. You grabbed the drawing of his character you did for him out of your sketch book, putting on the finishing touches that you couldn’t do earlier, and left that in there for him as well. You're just hoping that tomorrow goes well…

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Thank god today is Friday. If anything you can take this weekend to hide and write your essay for O’Donnell. If things go well then, you don’t know. You need to get this stupid essay written eventually. You and Robin got to class early, you were too anxious waking up this morning and left the house a bit earlier than usual. It’s supposed to rain all day as well so it’s going to be a miserable day no matter what. You take Eddie's notebook out of your bag and set it on his desk, hoping that he shows up. If not well… it’ll be a bit awkward trying to get this back to him. But right before the final bell rings he walks in, refusing to look at you, taking his seat and shoving the notebook to the side of his desk. There’s a tense feeling in the air between us and the only people who can feel it is us… and probably Robin. But you're just going to act like normal and manifest that things are going to be okay. They have to eventually be okay, right?

He actually keeps his eyes trained on the front of the room all period, no sneaking glances your way, he didn’t even open his notebook once. As soon as the bell rang to let us out of class he was up out of his seat and out the door quicker than you could even grab your stuff. Robin gets up with you and we start to walk together to my locker. You get why he’s icing you out but you really hope that he at least reads your letter. He doesn’t even stop at his locker, he’s just gone by the time we get out in the halls. 

“I assume you talked to him yesterday?”

“Yeah… and he’s not happy with me. At all. But I feel better knowing that he knows everything. I don’t wanna hide anything from him, it wouldn’t be fair if Steve knew the whole picture but he didn’t you know?”

“You’re right but whatever happens I am on your side. Steve, Eddie, whoever, I don’t care. You’re my best friend and like I said, I’ll fight whoever I need to.”

“And like I said, I would pay money to see you try to fight someone.”

“I gotta get to class but you know I have your back!”

She starts to walk away and almost trips over her own feet, which from her earlier comment about fighting people, makes you burst out laughing. She’s feisty and has bark, but no bite. That was always your job the few times we got into it with someone else. You walk into your second period class and try to keep your head up high. You don’t need anyone knowing how you really feel inside right now. You take your seat and open your notebook but not to actually do school work, you think you're going to write him another letter and put it in his locker, hoping it doesn’t make you look as desperate as you feel.

Eddie

Can we at least talk in person today? I’ll be in the library during lunch, back corner table. The one where everyone goes to take a nap.

Short and sweet. If he doesn’t show up then you'll understand. You take out another piece of paper to write Rob a note as well so she knows what’s happening as well.

Rob

Gonna spend lunch in the library, gonna try to make things right. Go spend some time with you know who, let those shoulders touch again HAHA

After class you go to both lockers and deposit the notes, hoping that he’ll at least check his before lunch rolls around. You know Robin will check hers, you never want to leave her in the dark when it comes to where you are. After all, if one of us goes missing, any of us, it’s usually a cause of concern. You know she’ll panic if you're not where you're supposed to be without telling her beforehand.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The library is nice and quiet right now, no one really spends time in here unless they have to. If he doesn’t come you might as well just start on your essay back here. After yesterday you have an idea on what you want to write about. A romantic story. About two misunderstood people. How they slowly fall in love and realize that they don’t need anyone to understand them, as long as they have each other everything will be okay in the end. As soon as your pen goes to paper, you can’t stop. The whole story unfolding exactly like how you'd like your real life to go. By the time you hear the bell ring, your essay is just about done and your stomach sinks, he didn’t come. He doesn’t want anything to do with you… and then the tears start. You can’t control them. You can’t get up and go to class right now with how much of a fucking mess you are. He hates you, he hates you and you can’t fix it. You've never had someone have this much of an impact on you so quickly. And you hate it. You hate feelings. You hate this whole thing. You're debating on just hiding in here for the rest of the day, it’s not like anyone is going to notice you being gone besides Robin. But when the bell went off for the next class period you knew what you needed to do. You write Robin another letter and you're just going to skip for the rest of the day. 

Rob,

He didn’t show up. He didn’t come. I know you’re going costume shopping after school today so Vickie’s got you on the ride home. I’m just going to skip the rest of the day. Love you. I’ll be okay.

You shove yet another note into her locker and run to the bathroom before you leave. You can’t let anyone see you with your mascara running down your face looking like an entire hot mess. You walk inside and thankfully you're alone, running the water warm in order to wash my face. You look in the mirror, eyes puffy, face red and blotchy, my parents always knew when you cried when you were a kid because you break out in hives, little red dots never allowing you to lie your way out of being upset. The scratchy paper towels do little to help with that redness, trails of mascara turning into irritated streaks of red down your face. There’s nothing you can do to make this better at this point so you give up. You run out of the bathroom and grab your jacket, throwing your hood up to try and hide your face as best as you could and get out to your car as fast as you can.

The rain is really picking up at this point so you run from the doors of the school to the car. You're going to look like a drowned rat either way but at this point, you don’t really give a shit. Your outsides are showing exactly how you feel on the inside, holding your head up high and faking it today didn’t do jack shit for you. And curse you for always parking as far away from the doors as humanly possible, by the time you get into your car you're soaked. You need to get out of here right away before anyone notices. You look around before starting your car and just your fucking luck, there he is, sitting in his van, looking right at you. So that’s where he was during lunch while he was avoiding you. He was probably out here all along, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible, probably in case you went back to the cafeteria after realizing he wasn’t coming. The stare down feels like it lasts forever but it was only mere seconds, the eye contact forcing you to start your car up and get the fuck out of there as fast as you could. You knew you wanted to go home but for some reason your brain auto piloted and you found yourself pulling up to Family Video, the rain making it near impossible to see six feet in front of you anymore anyway. You know that Steve’s in there. He’s probably alone, Keith leaves him by himself all the time. You rush inside, you're already drenched so it doesn’t even matter. As soon as Steve sees you though, he rushes over to your side. This place is a ghost town right now, the rain forcing people to not leave their house. Plus it is still school and work time, so it makes sense that no one is here. He flips the welcome sign to closed when he sees your face, you know you haven’t recovered from your cry yet but you didn’t want to make it this big of a deal.

“What the hell Y/N? Why aren’t you in school? Does Robin know where you are?”

“She… she knows I left… I left her a note. But she doesn’t know where I am. I didn’t even know where I was going. I just knew that I didn’t wanna be in that school anymore.”

“What happened? Did he do something to you?”

His words are filled with both malice and concern and he walks you back behind the counter where there’s a stool that you can sit on. He runs into the back and grabs you his jacket, holding his hand out for me to hand him your soaked one. You reluctantly take it, it’s better than being trapped in wet clothing. 

“He… he didn’t do anything to me. He didn’t say anything to me. He wants nothing to do with me. I told him about what happened with us, that we… you know. Not everything but enough. I didn’t think it was fair for you to know everything but him to not.”

Steve nods and relaxes himself a little bit now that he knows that no physical harm has come to you. You appreciate his protectiveness but right now it just gives you such mixed feelings.

“You know… your honesty is gonna get you in a whole lot of trouble one day, Russians didn’t even need to give you that truth serum, all they’d have to do is get you regular stoned”

He laughs at you, trying to make the situation lighter and you laugh, agreeing with him. 

“Yeah well, it’s already got me in a bit of trouble now. Listen, I’m gonna tell you the same thing that I told him over the phone. I like you both. I care about you both. And it really fucking sucks that you guys have the history that you do that it’s forcing me to choose between you both. I’ve never felt this way about someone as quick as I have with him. And I know you understand so don’t try and bullshit me. I told him that I wanted to try to go on dates with both of you before I even decide who I want to be with. And he called me naive. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he still has feelings for you as well, even if he never admits it to himself. And I don’t know how you feel about him still, but I think you two need to talk to each other, if not for me, for closure for both of you.”

“I see…”

“Fucking hell. Even coming at me with the same response! You two may be completely different but you’re alike in so many ways.”

You throw your hands up in defeat. They’re both going to be the death of you.

“Listen, Y/N, I would do anything for you. If you chose him I would accept it. I would fucking hate it, but I would still be there for you. If you chose me, I… I’d be the happiest person in the world. But the choice is yours, however you want to make it. If you want to go on dates, I’ll take you on the most kickass dates in the world. I don’t want to see you hurting. I never want to be the cause of your hurt. But I don’t think he and I can talk to each other. I just, I have so much fucking hurt left over from that. I doubt he would even talk to me even if I tried.”

“If he ever talks to me again… I can try to set something up…”

“Y/N, you don’t have to do that”

“But I want to! I want to fix everything! Even if it ends up with you two together and me by myself…”

“Why the hell would you even say something like that?”

“Because I have eyeballs you idiot. I can see the way you both look when you talk about each other. There’s something still there, I told you I have a feeling he’s still not over you but from what you just said, there’s something there in you as well.”

“Yeah well… even if you’re right… there can never be a future between me and him. You think Hawkins is just going to be accepting and open like you and Robin are? Hell no. You don’t know how hard it was to hide what we had. We loved each other, but we couldn’t walk down the street hand in hand, we had to hide in the darkness of night, stealing kisses wherever we could and hope to GOD that no one caught us. Hell, even for Robin it might be a little bit easier for her to be open about everything, people tend to be more accepting of lesbians than two men being together. They’re disgusted by it. We’d be run out of town, I’d be disowned by my entire family, things are just way too fucking complicated and I wish that they weren’t but that’s not the reality that we live in”

You sit there in silence for a minute. You could never understand the hurt that he’s feeling. You would never need to hide your relationship with either of them. He’s even right about Robin too, people tend to fetishize two women being together. You see it all the time in porno mags, but two men? That’s something that’s in a whole other category. You fucking hate how the world is. Why can’t people just love each other without the world judging them so harshly? Why can’t people just mind their fucking business?

“Steve… I’m sorry. I know that I’ll never understand the pain. But I really do think you two need closure…”

“I’m not going to be running to him anymore. If he wants to give me closure, then he can talk to me. I didn’t do shit to him. He’s the one who ran…”

“I’ll talk to him… if I can…”

“You do that Y/N. I hope you keep me updated on everything that’s going on. Don’t run away from me too.”

“I won’t Steve. I promise.”

You get up off your stool and give him a hug, letting your head fall into his chest while he wraps his arms around you, your heart beating wildly again and you can hear his doing the same. You pull away before things go too far, knowing how vulnerable you are right now, You just can’t deal with anything else right now. You need to get home and forget about the day. Take the weekend to just decompress and disappear. 

“I’m gonna head home. I need to shower and just not exist for a little bit.”

“Okay. But please be safe, the roads are so shitty right now.”

“I’ll drive like a grandma. Besides, I’m not too far away from home. I’ll see you soon Steve.”

“Bye Y/N…”

The rain seems to have lightened for the moment, so you hurry into your car and head back to your house. You need to take a shower and try to feel like a human again.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Being alone in this big house is great until it starts to storm, then it just feels scary and empty. You start to run a bath, making sure to add in a satchel of lavender to try to calm you down. You bring your little stereo and bring it into the bathroom as well, putting on one of your favorite Queen cassettes. Hopefully Freddie Mercury’s voice can drown out the impending thunder. You strip off your wet clothes and toss them to the side, sliding into the warm bath and letting it consume you. You look down at your body, still covered in hickeys, marks that Eddie made to show the world that you were his. You still feel like you are his in a way but when you and Steve are near each other, there’s something there that just pulls you to him. They’re so different yet so alike. Eddie is more rough and hardened by life, Steve always making things so light and airy. He’s always been more gentle with you, especially since the accident. Both of them want to be loved so badly and you want to give them just that. You want to love them both. You just don’t know how to make that work.

Thunder strikes so hard that it shakes the house and sends you straight into a panic. Your brain glitches out and you submerge your whole body into the water, trying to surround myself with something tangible. You hold your breath and let the water consume you, feeling weightless in that moment. You could fall asleep here and not have to wake back up, you could just let the panic in your brain take over and let yourself drown, then you wouldn’t have to deal with any of this. But your body takes over and brings your head above water, gasping for air. You have to get out of this tub immediately. What the hell are you thinking? You can’t just go back into your old way of thinking because things are getting tough. This isn’t the end of the world. You've dealt with the world almost ending and even then you held your head high. You almost died that night. You were given a second chance and you owe that to your friends to keep going. None of us are ever going to be the same but we’re all still here for each other.

Getting out of the water, you're immediately freezing and you wrap yourself in your towel and try to find some clean clothes. You've really been slacking on laundry since your parents have been gone, they’d be disappointed to see how you're taking care of yourself. You grab the sweat pants from the bathroom counter and go in search of a shirt, drying yourself off and throwing the clothes on before going down to the kitchen. If you're going to go full hermit, you're grabbing snacks. 

You grab some drinks and a bag of chips and make your way back up into bed, bringing your bookbag close to you as well to get some work done. You turn on the TV as background noise to try to feel a little bit less alone. There’s a Twilight Zone marathon on, perfect. Just the show to set the scene. You take out your notebook and try to finish your story, even if you know that your life is never going to end up the way that you want it to, at least the people in your story can have a happy ending.

You almost finish up all 6 pages before you get wildly distracted. You wonder what Robin wrote hers on, you haven’t been the best at keeping up with checking in on her besides wanting to know all about her and Vickie. You think you're just rooting for them so hard because you have no idea how your own love life is going to turn out. You just want someone to have some happiness.

Even the kids are paired up. Dustin has Suzie, Mike has El, and Lucas and Max… well you’re hoping things get better for them.

You must have fallen asleep because you woke up to your phone ringing, scaring the shit out of you.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

It’s Dustin. You didn’t expect that he would be on the other end of the phone but its a welcomed check in.

“Yeah kid, I’m okay. Why what’s up?”

“I just feel like something weird is going on. I thought I saw you earlier today and then you weren’t at lunch and it’s like you disappeared. Eddie wasn’t at lunch either. Thought you two were hiding out together. But I tried to ask about you at Hellfire and he just snapped at me. Told me to mind my business. Then when Steve picked us up I asked him about you too and he told me to mind my business too. But not as mean. I just got worried about you… that’s all…”

“Don’t need to worry about me. Just had a rough day, that’s all. Had to get away for the day.”

“Don’t you tell me to mind my business too Y/N. I can take it. I understand things.”

“Trust me kid, there’s some things that you don’t want to understand. Girl emergencies and such. I’m okay and I’ll be okay, but I appreciate you checking in on me.”

“Any time. I still owe you my life ya know, so I’ll be there for you no matter what.”

“Go get some rest Dustin, or call Suzie, do whatever it is you do on a Friday night.”

“You trying to get rid of me?”

“Yes. You woke me up and scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorrrryyyyy. You call me back if you need anything”

“I will Dustin. Goodnight kid.”

“Night Y/N”

You guess you're awake again against your will. Might as well roll up and try to go back to bed.

As soon as you spark up the phone rings again. This time it’s Robin.

“You will never believe what happened today”

“Well if it’s good news let me hear it, had enough bad news for today.”

“Well we went and we got our costumes and we found the perfect Grady Twins get up’s. Last ones in the store too with Halloween being a week away and all. Anyways, we decided to keep hanging out afterwards, but it got so rainy that she pulled over into that one park that’s over by main street, and there was no one there and the rain was just coming down so hard and no one was around and she fucking kissed me. She leaned over her seat and kissed me so quickly I didn’t even comprehend what happened at first. I think I went into shock. But then I kissed her back and we just, like, made out in her front seat. It was exhilarating. It was everything I dreamed of.”

“ROBIN! I fucking told you she was into you! I fucking knew it. I’m glad one of you took the plunge and went for it. I’m so fucking happy for you.”

“I needed to tell someone immediately or I was going to explode and you’re the only one I can really tell besides Steve… but I like you better so…”

“Speaking of Steve… I ended up driving over to Family Video after ditching. It was just like I was on autopilot and didn’t want to go home yet.”

“And? What happened?”

“We talked again. Didn’t go as planned but I don’t think I really had a plan in the first place. Wasn’t a bad talk though. I think they both still have feelings for each other Rob. I think the two of them need to talk to each other before I can even figure out my own feelings. It’s like a deep in my gut feeling that things are not over between them, not in the slightest.”

“I can see it. He was devastated when that all ended. I don’t think he ever got the closure he wanted”

“Exactly! And I’m not gonna be the one to stand in the way of that. If Eddie ever decides to talk to me again then I’m setting up a meeting for them to talk, even if it kills me.”

“Can’t believe he didn’t show up to the library. When I didn’t see him at lunch I swore things were going good for you. But then I got your note…”

“Yeah well, when I got to my car there he was in his van, and we made eye contact but I got up and left so quickly. Wasn’t gonna let him ruin any more of my day.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Things are going to happen as they happen. My life has always had a little bit of chaos in it. Not gonna stop now.”

You let out a huge yawn, sleepiness taking over your body again now that the joint has calmed you down.

“You need some sleep. I heard that yawn.”

“Yeah… I think I’m gonna head to bed. I’m gonna go full hermit this weekend but call me if you need anything at all.”

“You already know I will. I have work all weekend anyways. I’ll call you tomorrow Y/N. Love you.”

“Love you too Rob”

You'd known the Winchester boys for years now- long enough that they'd become some of your closest friends. Maybe even your only friends.

It all started back in 2007, when you were just another hunter trying to survive on your own after a nest of vampires wiped out the rest of your family in a small town outside Tulsa. You were twenty three at the time, green but stubborn, armed with nothing but a sawed-off shotgun and a whole lot of rage. That's when you crossed paths with Sam and Dean for the first time. They rolled into town in that loud-as-hell '67 Impala, chasing the same bloodsuckers that had destroyed your life. Dean had been the one to kick down the warehouse door while Sam covered your back, and together the three of you burned the nest to the ground.

From that night on, they kept showing up in your life- sometimes by coincidence, other times because one of you called the other for backup. Over the years you'd hunted together all across the damn states. You'd patched them up after hunts, shared cheap motel rooms and even cheaper whiskey, and slowly became part of their strange little family. They trusted you with their secrets- the ones about their dad, Ruby, the apocalypse. Hell, you'd even stood beside them through the whole Lucifer mess.

Now with the Leviathans running loose and Dick Roman pulling the strings, you were still right there with them. Dean has always been like a shithead older brother to you but Sam... God, Sam. You'd had a crush on him since that first hunt. Something about those kind hazel eyes, the way his voice softened when he was explaining lore, and how he carried the weight of the world like it was his personal responsibility always pulled at you. Even after everything he'd been through- you’d never stopped feeling it. You just kept it buried. There was never a good time.

You were currently holed up with them in a rundown motel outside of Chicago, the air thick with the smell of old coffee. The only light came from a couple of flickering lamps and the weak glow of two laptops on the rickety kitchen table. Empty beer bottles and scattered papers covered every surface.

Dean had gone out an hour ago to “clear his head” (and probably grab more beer), leaving just you and Sam.

Sam sat right beside you, so close that his knee kept brushing against yours under the table every time he shifted. His eyes would flicker to you every so often as he flipped through a thick, dusty tome on ancient monsters. You tried to focus on your own screen- searching for anything useful on Leviathans- but your eyes kept drifting to the way his hair fell across his forehead, the focused furrow between his brows, the subtle movement of his lips as he muttered notes to himself.

“Anything?” he asked quietly, his deep voice cutting through the silence. When you looked up, his hazel eyes were already on you, steady and warm in that way that always made your stomach flip.

You swallowed. “Not much. These things are basically unkillable. I’m starting to think we’re screwed unless we find that damn bone of a righteous whatever.”

Sam leaned in a little closer to see your screen, his shoulder pressing lightly against yours. You could smell the faint scent of his shampoo and the soap from the motel. Your breath caught.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze flicking from the laptop to your face. For a second, he didn’t pull away. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.” His voice was softer now, almost gentle. His eyes lingered on yours a moment too long before dropping to your mouth, then quickly back to the screen.

Your heart hammered. You were painfully aware of every point of contact- his knee still resting against yours, the warmth radiating from his body in the cool motel air. You wanted to lean into him. You wanted to reach up and brush that stray hair out of his eyes. Instead, you just nodded, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks.

“You okay?” Sam asked, tilting his head slightly. His hand brushed against yours on the table as he reached for a pen. Neither of you moved it away. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice a little rougher than usual. “Just… tired. And distracted.”

His thumb grazed the side of your hand, almost absentmindedly. The small touch sent a spark straight through you. Sam’s eyes darkened just a fraction, like he felt it too. For a heartbeat, the research, the Leviathans, and the rest of the world faded. It was just the two of you, inches apart, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, not breaking eye contact. “Me too.”

The front door creaked open- Dean coming back. Sam slowly pulled his hand away, but not before giving yours one last lingering brush. You both turned back to your laptops, hearts racing, pretending the moment hadn’t just happened.

But you both knew it had.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

The next morning came too quickly. You barely slept, replaying that moment at the table- the brush of Sam’s hand, the way his eyes had lingered on your lips. When Dean burst into the cabin at dawn with coffee and a new lead, you forced yourself to focus.

“Got a hit,” Dean announced, tossing a newspaper onto the table. “Three people torn apart and partially eaten about twenty miles from here last night. Cops are calling it a wild animal attack. Sounds like our slimy friends.”

Sam glanced at you briefly, something unreadable in his expression, before nodding. “We should check it out. If they’re feeding nearby, we might be able to track them back to wherever they’re holed up.”

You nodded, avoiding his eyes. “Yeah. Let’s gear up.”

A couple of hours later, the three of you were deep in the thick woods. The air was damp and heavy. Dean led the way with his machete already drawn, while you and Sam flanked him, shotguns loaded with the hope that might at least slow a Leviathan down.

The distraction started the moment you began moving.

Every time Sam moved ahead of you, your eyes traced the broad line of his shoulders, the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck. You kept remembering the warmth of his hand against yours last night. Your mind wouldn’t stay on the hunt.

You should’ve been paying attention.

The first Leviathan came out of nowhere.

One second you were stepping over a fallen log, the next a massive black figure slammed into Dean from the side, sending him flying into a tree with a sickening crack. The creature’s form rippled- mouth splitting open far too wide, teeth like rows of jagged glass.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, firing two rapid shots into its chest.

You reacted a half-second too late, your shot going wide because your eyes had darted to Sam instead of the threat. The Leviathan roared and backhanded you hard, sending you crashing into the underbrush. Pain exploded across your ribs.

“Stay down!” Sam yelled, rushing toward you, but another Leviathan dropped from the trees behind him.

“Sam, behind you!”

He spun just in time, but the second creature was faster than it should’ve been. It grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the ground with brutal force. Sam’s shotgun flew from his hands. You watched in horror as the Leviathan’s jaw unhinged, ready to bite down.

Your heart seized.

Forgetting your own pain, you scrambled up and fired three rounds into the thing’s head, finally making it loosen its grip. Sam rolled away, gasping, blood trickling from his nose and mouth. He looked up at you, eyes wide with worry.

“You okay?” he rasped, already reaching for you even though he was the one bleeding.

“I’m fine- fuck! Watch out!”

The first Leviathan was back on its feet, regenerating fast. It charged straight at you. Dean was still down, groaning, trying to push himself up. It was just you and Sam now.

You fought side by side, but your head wasn't in the game. Every time Sam took a hit, your focus shattered. When a clawed hand slashed across his chest, tearing through his flannel and into skin, you froze for a critical second.

That hesitation cost you.

The second Leviathan blindsided you, grabbing your arm and yanking you forward. You felt white hot pain as its teeth sank into your shoulder. You screamed, swinging your machete wildly, managing to hack into its neck but not deep enough.

Sam’s roar cut through the chaos.

He tackled the creature off you with pure fury, stabbing it repeatedly in the head and throat with his machete. Black blood sprayed everywhere. When it finally went down twitching, he spun toward you, eyes frantic, screaming your name.

He dropped to his knees beside you, pressing his large hand against the bleeding bite on your shoulder. His face was streaked with dirt and blood, his chest heaving. The wound on his own chest was deep, soaking through his shirt.

“Shit, you’re hurt bad,” he breathed, voice tight with fear. His free hand cupped the side of your face without thinking, thumb brushing your cheek. “You always watch your six— what the hell happened?”

You winced, both from the pain and the guilt. You couldn’t tell him the truth. You happened. The way he looked at you last night. The way he was looking at you right now, so close, so worried, his blood mixing with yours where he held you.

Dean finally staggered over, clutching his side. “We gotta move. More could be coming. Can you walk?”

Sam didn’t wait for your answer. He slid one arm under your knees and the other around your back, lifting you against his chest despite his own injuries.

“I’ve got her,” he said, voice low and rough. His heart was pounding hard against you as he carried you through the woods. Every step made his grip tighten, like he was afraid to let go.

You rested your head against his shoulder, trying not to focus on how good it felt to be held by him even while bleeding and terrified.

The hunt had gone south fast- too fast. And you knew your distraction almost got all of you killed.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

The drive back to the motel was agonizing. Every bump in the road made you hiss in pain.

“Easy, Dean,” Sam growled from the backseat, his arms wrapped around you protectively. “She’s bleeding pretty bad.”

“I’m going as fast as I can Sammy,” Dean shot back, glancing in the rearview mirror. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s conscious… barely.” Sam’s voice was tight with worry. He looked down at you, brushing damp hair from your forehead. “Hey, stay with me, alright? Talk to me. Tell me something- anything.”

You winced as the Impala hit another pothole. “Hurts like hell… but I’m still here.”

“That’s my girl,” Sam murmured, squeezing your hand. “Just keep talking. We’re almost there.”

When Dean finally pulled into the motel parking lot, Sam didn’t wait. He scooped you up and carried you into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. He laid you carefully on one of the beds, his hands lingering on your waist longer than necessary.

“Cas…” Sam whispered, voice cracking with exhaustion and fear. He knelt beside the bed, one hand still gripping yours tightly. “Castiel, we need you. Now.”

Dean leaned against the wall, pressing a towel to his bruised ribs. “He might not come, Sammy. You know how he’s been lately- all that Angel bullshit going on.”

Sam ignored him, squeezing your hand harder. His hazel eyes were locked on your pale face, filled with a desperation you rarely saw in him.

“Castiel,” he prayed again, louder this time, his voice thick with emotion. “Please. She's hurt bad. Really bad. She’s losing blood and I… I can’t lose her.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “She’s always been there for us. For me. Just… heal her first. Please. I don’t care about me or Dean right now. Just fix her.”

The air in the room shifted. A flutter of wings, and suddenly Castiel was standing at the foot of the bed, looking rumpled and distant, his trench coat dirty as usual.

“Sam,” Cas said, tilting his head. His eyes flicked to you, then to Sam’s tight grip on your hand. “You’re all injured.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Dean muttered.

But Sam didn’t look away from you. “Cas, please. Start with her. She took the worst of it because…” He swallowed hard, jaw clenching. “Just heal her. I’m begging you.”

Castiel stepped forward and placed two fingers on your forehead. A warm blue light washed over you, chasing away the burning pain in your shoulder. The deep bite wound knit itself closed, leaving only a faint scar and the memory of teeth. Strength slowly returned to your body.

You blinked up at Sam, who hadn’t moved an inch. His eyes were glassy with relief, and he let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead briefly against your hand.

“Thank you,” he whispered- you weren’t sure if it was to Cas or to you.

Cas moved to Dean next, then finally to Sam, healing the nasty gash across his chest. But even after the pain was gone, Sam stayed kneeling beside your bed, refusing to let go of your hand.

“You scared the hell out of me today,” Sam said quietly once Cas had vanished again. His voice was soft, meant only for you. Dean had stepped outside to “make a call,” giving you both a rare moment alone. “You were distracted out there. Sloppy. That’s not like you.”

He reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch lingered on your cheek, warm and careful.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked, eyes searching yours. The tension from last night was back, heavier now after everything that had happened. “Talk to me.”

Your heart raced as you looked at him- this close, blood still streaked on his skin, his flannel torn open where the Leviathan had slashed him. The fear in his eyes when he’d prayed for you first… it made the feelings you’d buried for years surge dangerously close to the surface.

You swallowed hard under Sam’s intense gaze, his hand still cupping your cheek. The words you wanted to say burned in your throat, but you choked them down.

“I’m just… off my game,” you muttered, turning your face away from his touch. “It won’t happen again.”

Sam’s hand dropped. For a second, something raw and angry flashed across his face. He stood up abruptly, jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle jump.

“Yeah? That’s all you’ve got?” His voice was low, edged with frustration. “You almost got yourself killed out there. That’s not you.” He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps before turning back to you. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you lately, but it nearly cost all of us.”

The sharpness in his tone stung. He wasn’t just worried- he was pissed. And the worst part was, he had every right to be.

You sat up slowly, wincing. “Sam-”

“Forget it,” he cut you off, voice tight. He wouldn’t even look at you now. “Just… get some rest.”

He left the room without another word, shoulders rigid. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with the heavy weight of everything unsaid and the sting of his anger.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

The tension only got worse after that.

Over the following weeks, Sam was short with you. Not cruel, but clearly frustrated. During research sessions, he’d slide a book toward you without a word, his eyes avoiding yours. When you offered input on a lead, he’d listen but respond with clipped, almost curt replies. On hunts, he stayed close- too close- but it felt different now. Protective in a way that bordered on overbearing, like he didn’t trust you to watch your own back anymore.

Every time your shoulders brushed or your hands accidentally touched while reaching for the same weapon, the air crackled. Sam would pull away like he’d been burned, his jaw tight, a muscle ticking in his cheek. You caught him staring more than once- those hazel eyes dark with something that looked a lot like anger mixed with want. But he never said anything. He just simmered.

One night in a motel in Nebraska, after a brutal hunt, Dean had gone out for food. You and Sam were left alone again, cleaning weapons at the small table. The silence was suffocating.

“You gonna keep ignoring me forever?” you finally asked, voice quieter than you meant it to be.

Sam’s hands stilled on the angel blade he was sharpening. He looked up, eyes hard. “I’m not ignoring you. I’m trying not to lose my shit every time I think about how close you came to dying because you couldn’t...” His voice dropped, rough and frustrated. “You scared the hell out of me. And you still won’t tell me what’s going on with you.”

The heat in his gaze made your stomach twist. You wanted so badly to close the distance, to admit everything. Instead, you looked down at the table.

“I’m fine, Sam.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Right. Sure.” He stood up, chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Whatever it is, figure it out before you get one of us killed.”

He stormed out, leaving you sitting there with your heart hammering and tears burning in your eyes.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

Time dragged on like that- frustrated glances, sharp words, and that unbearable, electric pull between you that neither of you would name. Dean kept shooting worried looks between the two of you but wisely stayed out of it.

Then came the Bunker.

Dean called you a few weeks after the Leviathans finally fell, excitement clear in his voice despite everything. When you arrived in Lebanon, Kansas, the Men of Letters bunker was more incredible than you’d imagined. Safe. Permanent. A real home.

Dean gave the tour, grinning like a kid. Sam walked beside you in silence, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Every time you passed each other in the narrow hallways, his shoulder would brush yours, and he’d tense up, muttering something under his breath before moving on.

Later, the three of you sat in the war room with beers. Dean kicked his feet up on the table.

“This place is ours. Fully stocked, warded to hell and back.” He looked at you. “You’re family. We want you here. Move in. There’s plenty of room.”

Sam’s eyes finally met yours across the table. His expression was unreadable- tight, frustrated, but underneath it, something deeper and more vulnerable. He leaned forward slightly, voice low and rough.

“You should stay.” The words came out almost like an order, but there was a crack in them. “There’s a room down the hall from mine. You belong here…”

The tension between you thickened, heavy and unresolved. His gaze held yours, angry and wanting all at once. You could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves- the same frustration that had been building for weeks. He was mad at you for almost dying. Mad at you for keeping secrets. Mad at whatever this thing was between you that neither of you would acknowledge.

You held his stare, heart racing, and gave a small nod.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I’ll stay.”

Dean clapped his hands together, breaking the moment. “Great. Welcome home, kid.”

Sam didn’t smile. He just watched you, jaw tight, that same frustrated fire burning in his eyes. Nothing had been fixed.

But now you’d be living under the same roof.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

A few days after you moved into the Bunker, the place still felt surreal- endless halls of books, weapons, and artifacts that smelled faintly of old paper and metal. You’d claimed a room down the hall from Sam’s, just like he’d said. Close enough that you could hear his door open and close at night. Close enough to make the tension even more unbearable.

You couldn’t sleep. Again. The frustration and guilt from the Leviathan hunt still lingered, mixed with the constant awareness of Sam’s presence just a few doors away. You’d slipped out of your room quietly, heading toward the kitchen for some water, when you heard voices echoing from the war room.

Dean and Sam.

You paused just outside the doorway, hidden in the shadowed hallway, not intending to eavesdrop but the sound of your name made you freeze.

“-seriously, Sammy. What the hell is going on with you two?” Dean’s voice was low but insistent, laced with genuine concern. “You’ve been acting like a pissed-off grizzly ever since that hunt outside Chicago. And she’s been walking on eggshells around you. I’m not blind, man.”

You pressed your back against the cool wall, heart suddenly pounding. You shouldn’t listen. But you couldn’t make yourself move.

Sam let out a heavy sigh, the kind that meant he was rubbing his hand over his face the way he always did when he was exhausted and irritated. “Nothing’s going on, Dean. Drop it.”

“Bullshit,” Dean shot back. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. And the way you’ve been snapping at her lately? It’s not like you. You carried her out of those woods like she was made of glass, prayed to Cas like your life depended on it- then you’ve been treating her like she personally kicked your puppy. What gives?”

There was a long pause. You heard the clink of a beer bottle being set down harder than necessary.

“She almost died,” Sam finally said, his voice rough and edged with that same frustration you’d come to recognize. “Because she was distracted. She won’t tell me why. Every time I try to get close, she shuts down. I’m… I’m fucking tired of watching her put herself in danger and pretending everything’s fine.”

Dean’s chair creaked as he leaned back. “So you’re mad at her for almost getting killed? That’s a new one.”

“I’m not-” Sam cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “Yeah. Maybe I am. She’s been off for weeks, and she won’t talk to me. After everything we’ve been through together… I thought she trusted me. And now we’re all living under the same roof and it’s just-” He stopped again, like the words were too much. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Dean said, more gently this time. “You two have been dancing around each other for years. The tension is so thick I could cut it with a fuckin’ knife dude. If you’ve got feelings for her, maybe you should-”

“Don’t,” Sam interrupted, voice hard. “Just… don’t. She’s family. I’m not going to screw that up because I can’t keep my head straight. Especially not when she’s keeping secrets that nearly got her killed.”

You felt your chest tighten. The anger in Sam’s voice wasn’t just irritation- it was laced with hurt, with worry, with something deeper he refused to name. Your fingers curled against the wall as you fought the urge to walk in and say something. Anything.

Dean sighed. “Alright. But you two need to figure this out before it blows up in our faces. We’ve got enough monsters trying to kill us without you two acting weird.”

“Yeah,” Sam muttered. “I know.”

You heard the scrape of chairs and quickly slipped back down the hallway toward your room, pulse racing. You barely made it inside before you heard Sam’s heavy footsteps heading toward the bedrooms.

He paused outside your door for a long moment. You held your breath, wondering if he’d knock. If he’d finally say something.

But he didn’t. His door opened and closed with a quiet click.

The tension between you two hadn’t eased at all.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

The next morning, Sam was in the kitchen when you walked in, pouring coffee with his back to you. His shoulders tensed the second he heard your footsteps, like he could sense you were there.

“Morning,” you said softly, trying to sound normal.

He glanced over his shoulder, hazel eyes guarded and stormy. “Morning.” His tone was clipped, that familiar frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He slid a mug toward you across the counter without meeting your eyes fully. “Coffee’s fresh.”

You took it, your fingers brushing his for a split second. He pulled back quickly, jaw tightening.

The unspoken words hung between you again- thicker now that you knew exactly how much it was eating at him. He was mad. He was worried. And he was fighting whatever this was just as hard as you were.

Neither of you said a word about it.

You felt like you were becoming smaller every single day.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

The Bunker had a way of revealing new secrets every week. Old archives, hidden caches of weapons, and apparently- entire self contained apartments tucked away in the lower levels.

You’d been there almost two weeks when Dean cornered you in the library one afternoon, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Hey, I need your help with something,” he said casually, tossing you a dusty journal. “Found this weird room on the lower level while I was poking around. Looks like some kind of old Men of Letters safe house or apartment. Sam’s already down there trying to figure out what it was used for. I need both of you nerds to check it out. Might have some useful warding sigils or lore we could use.”

You raised an eyebrow, but Dean’s expression was annoyingly innocent. “Fine. Lead the way.”

Sam was already waiting when you both arrived. He stood in the doorway of the room, arms crossed, looking impatient. The space was surprisingly cozy for something hidden in a bunker- compact living area with a small kitchenette, a couch, a bed in the corner, and shelves lined with old books. It felt almost like a hidden studio apartment.

“What’s this about?” Sam asked, voice already carrying that edge of irritation he’d been directing at you lately.

Dean shrugged. “Just need you two to look around. See if there’s anything useful. Shit- I’ll be right back, I forgot the EMF reader.”

Before either of you could protest, Dean stepped out and pulled the heavy metal door shut behind him. There was a low, ominous hum of energy, followed by the distinct click of locks engaging.

Sam immediately reached for the handle. It didn’t budge.

“Dean!” he shouted, banging on the door. “This isn’t funny.”

You tried the handle too. Nothing. A faint glow of runes shimmered around the doorframe for a second before fading.

Dean’s voice came through the small speaker grille beside the door, sounding way too smug. “Look, you two have been acting weird as hell for weeks. The bullshit is driving me insane, and it’s gonna get someone killed on the next hunt. So here’s the deal… I found a locking spell in one of the old journals. You’re not getting out until you talk. Like, actually talk. Sort your shit out. There’s food and water in the fridge. I’ll check back in a day or two.”

“Dean, open the damn door!” Sam growled, voice rising with frustration.

“Nope. Not until you two stop pretending everything’s fine. You’re welcome.” Dean’s footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving nothing but heavy silence.

Sam slammed his palm against the door one last time, then turned around. His hazel eyes locked onto yours, dark with sharp anger. The room suddenly felt much smaller.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, pacing toward the small couch and dropping down heavily. He ran both hands through his hair, tugging at the strands. “I can’t believe he did this.”

You stayed near the door, arms wrapped around yourself. The frustration that had been building between you for weeks was now trapped in this confined space with no escape. Sam wouldn’t even look at you properly.

“You’ve been pissed at me for weeks,” you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Ever since that Leviathan hunt. If you want to yell at me, just do it.”

Sam’s head snapped up. His jaw clenched, eyes flashing with that familiar storm of irritation. “Yeah? Maybe I am pissed. You were distracted out there. You almost died in my arms because you couldn’t keep your shit together, and you still won’t tell me why.” He stood up again, towering over you even from across the small room. “I prayed for you first, did you know that? Begged Cas to heal you before me or Dean. And you just… shut me out.”

The raw edge in his voice made your chest ache. He was close now- close enough that you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands flexed at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but wouldn’t let himself.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you shot back, heat rising in your own voice. The confined space made everything feel louder, heavier. “I told you I was fine.”

“Yeah, well you’re not,” he said bitterly, stepping even closer. His tall frame loomed, hazel eyes burning into yours. “And now we’re stuck in here because of it. Because Dean thinks we need to ‘figure our shit out.’” He let out a harsh, frustrated laugh. “Like that’s so simple.”

The air between you crackled. You could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint scent of his shampoo and the Bunker’s old books. His gaze dropped to your mouth for half a second before snapping back up, jaw tight with restraint.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you confessed.

But the tension was thicker than ever- frustrated, angry, and painfully unresolved.

Sam turned away sharply, muttering under his breath as he dropped back onto the couch, elbows on his knees. “This is gonna be a long night.”

You stayed standing, heart hammering, wondering how long you could both keep pretending.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

Hours passed in heavy, suffocating silence.

Sam had claimed the small couch, his long legs stretched out awkwardly as he flipped through one of the old journals from the shelf. You sat cross-legged on the bed, back against the headboard, pretending to read the same dusty tome on warding sigils. The words blurred on the page. Every shift of fabric, every turn of a page felt amplified in the small room.

You hadn’t spoken since the initial outburst. Sam hadn’t looked at you directly either, though you could feel the weight of his frustration filling the space between you.

Then your stomach rumbled- loudly, embarrassingly- in the quiet.

You tensed, cheeks heating, but kept your eyes glued to the book. Sam’s head lifted slightly. He didn’t say anything, but after a long beat, he closed his journal with a soft thud and stood up. His movements were stiff, shoulders still tight with that lingering anger as he walked over to the small kitchenette.

You watched from the corner of your eye as he opened the fridge. Dean had apparently stocked it well- sandwich fixings, some fruit, a couple of beers, and leftover Chinese takeout. Sam moved with quiet efficiency, pulling out bread, deli meat, cheese, and a couple of bottles of water. He didn’t glance your way once. The knife scraped against the cutting board with more force than necessary as he assembled two sandwiches.

The silence felt even heavier now, broken only by the small domestic sounds. It was almost worse than the arguing.

Finally, Sam crossed the room and set a plate on the edge of the bed near you, along with a water bottle. He didn’t hand it to you. Just placed it down like he was fulfilling an obligation. His jaw was still clenched, hazel eyes stormy as they flicked briefly to your face before darting away.

He grabbed his own plate and returned to the couch, sitting heavily. For a moment, the only sounds were the crunch from the sandwiches and the faint chewing.

You muttered a quiet “Thanks,” not quite looking at him.

Sam grunted in response, barely audible. He took a large bite of his sandwich, staring down at the floor instead of at you. Even in his frustration, he’d still made sure you ate. The small act twisted something deep in your chest.

The tension didn’t ease as you both ate. If anything, it coiled tighter. Every time your eyes accidentally met, the air sparked- his gaze dark and conflicted, full of anger and that deeper feeling he kept locked deep inside of him. He looked away first every time, shoulders rigid.

When you finished, Sam wordlessly took your empty plate and set it in the small sink. He lingered there for a second, hands braced on the counter, back to you, like he was physically holding himself back from saying something.

The locked room felt smaller than ever.

Neither of you had broken yet.

But with the quiet stretching on and the two of you trapped together, it was only a matter of time before something gave.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

The silence had continued to drag on, thick and unbearable in the small, enclosed space. The faint hum of the Bunker’s old ventilation system was the only constant sound. Sam sat rigidly on the couch as he stared unseeing at the pages of the journal in his lap. You were curled on the bed, the worn blanket rough beneath your thighs, the air cool against your skin but growing warmer with the trapped heat of two bodies and too many unsaid words.

“Sam…” Your voice cracked as you snapped the book shut, the sound sharp in the stillness. “I was distracted because of you.”

His head jerked up, hazel eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse thunder in your ears.

The confession poured out, raw and shaky. “That night in the motel, when your hand brushed mine…Fuck I sound so stupid…I’ve been in love with you for years. Pretty much since Tulsa. I tried to bury it, but I couldn’t anymore. Every time you got close, every look, every touch- I couldn’t focus. That’s why I froze out there. That’s why I almost got us killed. Because I want you so much it hurts, and I was terrified of ruining everything.”

For a heartbeat, Sam just stared, chest rising and falling faster. Then he moved.

He crossed the room in two powerful strides, the floor creaking under his weight. His large hands seized your waist, fingers digging into your sides with bruising strength as he hauled you up off the bed and slammed you against the nearest wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs- the cold metal wall shocking against your back through your thin shirt.

His mouth crashed into yours.

The kiss was hard, messy, and utterly dominant. His lips were warm and demanding, tasting faintly of the sandwich and the sharp edge of frustration. He growled low in his throat- a deep, rumbling sound you felt vibrate through his chest pressed flush against yours. One of his big hands slid up to grip the back of your neck, fingers threading roughly through your hair, tugging just hard enough to tilt your head exactly how he wanted. His tongue pushed past your lips, hot and insistent, claiming your mouth with years of pent up hunger.

You moaned into him, the sound muffled against his lips, your hands fisting desperately in his flannel.

Sam pulled back just enough to breathe against your mouth, his voice wrecked and rough. “You idiot,” he panted, lips brushing yours with every word. His breath was hot and ragged against your skin. “I’ve wanted you for so goddamn long. Every hunt. Every night you slept in the same room. I thought I was losing my mind.”

He kissed you again, deeper, filthier- teeth nipping at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. The wet slide of mouths, the faint sting where he bit, the way his stubble scraped deliciously against your chin- it all blurred together.

“I was so fucking mad at you,” he confessed between kisses, voice dark and gravelly. His free hand shoved under the hem of your shirt, palm hot and calloused as it skimmed up your bare side, fingers splaying possessively over your ribs. “Seeing you bleeding in my arms… hearing you scream… I wanted to shake you and kiss you at the same time.”

You gasped as his mouth moved to your jaw, then your neck, biting and sucking as another confession slipped out between kisses. “I’ve been losing my mind in this Bunker knowing you’re right down the hall. Every brush of your hand, every time you looked at me… I wanted to pin you against the wall and stop pretending.”

You moaned as his hand slid under your shirt, palm hot against your skin. “Sam…” You tugged him closer, nails digging into his shoulders. “I didn’t know. I thought you were just angry at me.”

“I was,” he admitted, voice dark and rough as he captured your lips again in another messy, dominant kiss. His tongue tangled with yours, one thigh pushing between your legs as he held you there. “Angry that you wouldn’t talk to me. Angry that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Angry that I’ve wanted you this whole time and we’ve wasted so many years.”

Sam’s frustration melted into pure hunger, his touches firm and possessive as he pressed you harder against the wall.

Neither of you were done confessing.

Neither of you were stopping.

Sam takes control, pushing you harder against the wall as his mouth devours yours.

His hands are everywhere- gripping your waist, sliding up under your shirt, possessive and rough like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. When he finally breaks the kiss, his forehead rests against yours, breath hot and ragged.

“Fuck, I’ve waited too long for this,” he growls, voice low and dangerous. “You’ve been driving me insane for years, walking around like you don’t know what you do to me. My sweet, stubborn girl… too fucking scared to say anything until I almost lost you.”

He kisses you once more, hard and claiming, then drops to his knees in one fluid motion. His large hands shove your shirt up and yank your pants and underwear down your legs in one rough tug, leaving you exposed. Sam looks up at you from the floor, hazel eyes dark with hunger and lingering frustration.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “Soaking wet already, just from a few kisses. My needy girl… always acting so tough out there, but you fall apart this easily for me?” His voice dips into something meaner, teasing. “Pathetic, baby. You almost got us killed because you couldn’t stop thinking about my hands on you. All that time wasted when you could’ve had this.”

Before you can respond, his mouth is on you.

Sam doesn’t ease in- he devours. His tongue drags through your folds in one long, firm stroke, groaning against your core like he’s been starving for you. One of his big hands grips your thigh, hiking it over his shoulder to open you wider while the other presses against your stomach, holding you firmly against the wall.

“Fuck… you taste even better than I imagined,” he confesses between licks, his voice vibrating against your sensitive core. “So sweet. My perfect girl. Been dreaming about burying my face between these pretty thighs for years.” 

Then his tone shifts again, darker, as he sucks your clit into his mouth with just the right pressure. 

“But you’re such a fucking tease, aren’t you? Making me watch you every day, pretending you didn’t want me to bend you over and eat this pussy until you cried.” He laps at you messily, tongue fucking into you before pulling back to speak. “Look how wet you are. Dripping down my chin already. You’ve been holding out on me, baby. Bad girl.”

You moan, fingers threading into his hair, and he rewards you by sucking harder on your clit, two thick fingers sliding into you without warning. He curls them perfectly, stroking that spot inside you while his mouth works you relentlessly.

Sam pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips shiny with your arousal, eyes soft despite the filthy words. “I love you,” he breathes, pressing a tender kiss right above your clit. “I’ve loved you since the moment I laid my eyes on you. My brave, beautiful idiot.” Then his voice roughens again as he dives back in, tongue flicking rapidly. “But don’t think that means I’m gonna go easy on you. You owe me for all those years. Gonna make you cum on my tongue until you’re begging, until you understand exactly who this pussy belongs to.”

He’s relentless- alternating between long, slow licks that make your legs shake and harsh, focused sucking that has you crying out his name.

“That’s it… ride my face like the desperate slut you are for me,” he growls. “God, I love how you sound. Love knowing I’m the one making you fall apart.”

His fingers pump faster, curling just right, while his mouth seals around your clit and sucks hard. The contrast- mean and filthy mixed with raw affection- has you trembling on the edge embarrassingly fast.

Sam looks up again, eyes glassy with lust and love. “Cum for me, baby. Let me taste how much you’ve wanted this. My girl. My everything.”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, pushing you right over the edge with a broken cry of his name.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

“Sam!” The cry rips from your throat as pleasure explodes through your body. Your thighs clamp around his head, hips jerking against his mouth while wave after wave crashes over you. “I love you- fuck, I love you so much-”

The confession breaks on a sob as your walls flutter and pulse against his tongue. Sam groans loudly into your cunt, the deep sound vibrating through your core and dragging your climax out even longer. He doesn’t stop licking you through it- slow, hungry strokes that savor every twitch and whimper until your legs are shaking uncontrollably.

Only when you start to go limp against the wall does he finally pull back. His lips and chin are shiny with your release, hazel eyes dark and wild as he looks up at you. For a moment he just breathes against your thigh, pressing a soft, almost reverent kiss there.

Then he’s moving.

Sam surges to his feet, towering over you, and scoops you up like you weigh nothing. You barely manage to wrap your arms around his neck before he’s carrying you back onto the bed. He drops you onto the mattress with just enough force to make the springs creak loudly. Sam's quick- already stripping, yanking his flannel and t-shirt over his head in one rough motion, revealing miles of scarred, toned muscle and a heavy cock that slaps against his stomach the moment it's freed.

He starts to crawl over you, but his long legs immediately hang off the end of the small bed at an awkward angle. He curses under his breath, frustration flashing across his face.

You sit up quickly and push at his chest. “Wait.”

Sam stills, breathing hard, watching you with dark, hungry eyes.

You guide him onto his back instead. He lets you- mostly- his large hands never leaving your waist as you swing a leg over and straddle his hips. The position is perfect. He’s so tall that anything else would’ve been impossible, but like this you can take control.

You reach between you, wrapping your hand around his thick cock. He’s rock hard, flushed, and leaking at the tip. Sam hisses through his teeth as you stroke him once, twice, then line him up with your dripping entrance.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough, even as his fingers dig into your hips. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

You sink down slowly.

The stretch is intense. Inch by inch, he fills you until you’re fully seated, your ass flush against his thighs. Both of you moan- long, broken sounds that fill the small room. Sam’s head falls back against the pillow, throat bared, eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you.

“Fuck…” he breathes, hands sliding up your sides almost reverently. “Look at you. So fucking tight. So wet for me.” His voice drops, filthy and mean, “All these years pining after me like a desperate little slut and you finally have my cock buried inside you. Does it feel good, baby?”

You roll your hips experimentally and both of you groan again. The angle is deliciously perfect, hitting that spot deep inside you that has you seeing stars.

Sam’s hands grip your ass harder, guiding your movements as you start to ride him properly. The bed creaks rhythmically beneath you, the sound mixing with skin on skin and heavy breathing.

“That’s it,” he praises, voice low and rough. “Ride me just like that. My good girl… my perfect fucking girl.” Then his tone sharpens even as his eyes stay soft with overwhelming affection. “Been dreaming about this pussy for years and you kept it from me. Bad, bad girl. Should’ve told me sooner instead of almost getting yourself killed.”

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you move faster. Sam meets your thrusts, snapping his hips up to meet you, driving himself even deeper. One of his hands slides up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you down into a messy, desperate kiss.

“I love you,” he growls against your mouth between kisses. “I love you so much. We're both fucking idiots aren't we?”

He punctuates the sweet confession with a particularly hard thrust that makes you cry out.

You keep riding him, pace building, lost in the feeling of him beneath you- so big, so warm, so yours. 

You brace your hands on Sam’s broad chest and start moving faster, rolling your hips in deep, grinding circles before lifting and sinking back down onto his cock. The wet sound of your bodies meeting fills the small room, obscene and loud in the enclosed space.

Sam’s fingers dig harder into your hips, his jaw clenched tight as he watches you ride him. His eyes are glued to the sight of his thick cock disappearing inside you over and over.

“Fuck, baby… just like that,” he groans, voice strained. “You look so good bouncing on my dick. My pretty girl finally taking what she wants.” 

His praise makes you clench around him. You lean forward, changing the angle so he hits even deeper, and Sam’s head falls back with a guttural moan. His hips start twitching up to meet yours, chasing the pleasure, but he’s still letting you stay in control.

You ride him harder, thighs burning, chasing that perfect friction against your clit every time you grind down. Sam’s breathing grows ragged, his chest heaving beneath your palms.

“Shit- slow down, sweetheart, I’m-” His words cut off into a broken groan as you roll your hips particularly filthy. His grip on your waist turns bruising. “You’re gonna make me lose it.”

But you don’t slow down. You keep riding him with everything you have, drunk on the power of having big, strong Sam Winchester falling apart underneath you.

Sam’s control finally snaps.

With a low, feral growl, he sits up suddenly, one arm wrapping around your back while the other grips your ass. In one powerful motion, he flips you both so you’re still straddling him but he’s now sitting upright on the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor for leverage.

He takes over completely.

Sam’s large hands lock onto your hips and he starts fucking up into you with brutal, relentless force. Each thrust is deep and punishing, his hips snapping up so hard your ass slaps against his thighs. The new position lets him use every inch of his strength to drive into you like you weigh nothing.

“Fuck- been holding back,” he rasps against your neck, teeth grazing your skin. “But you feel too good. Too fucking tight and wet for me.”

He bounces you on his cock with frightening ease, strong arms flexing as he pulls you down to meet every savage upward thrust. The bed creaks dangerously beneath you.

“You wanted this, didn’t you?” he growls, voice dark and rough, even as his next words soften with raw emotion. “My desperate girl… riding me so eagerly only to get fucked like you deserve. I love you so much it hurts.”

Sam’s pace is punishing now- hard, fast, and relentless. Every thrust punches the air out of your lungs and hits that perfect spot inside you. One of his hands slides between your bodies, thumb pressing firmly against your clit as he fucks you even harder.

“Look at me,” he demands, voice wrecked but commanding. His forehead presses against yours, hazel eyes burning with lust and love. “Want to watch you fall apart on my cock again. Been waiting years for this, baby. Years.”

He kisses you messily, all tongue and teeth, while continuing to drive into you with deep, powerful strokes. The overwhelming mix of his filthy thrusts and sweet, desperate confessions pushes you right back toward the edge.

“Cum for me again,” Sam growls against your lips, thrusting up particularly hard. “Let me feel it. My girl. My everything.”

You’re shaking, overwhelmed by the relentless pace and the way he fills you so perfectly. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you moan his name like a prayer.

“Sam- fuck, I’m so close- ”

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, voice strained and rough. “Cum on my cock. Let me feel you. Been dying to feel this pretty pussy squeeze me while you fall apart.”

His thumb presses harder against your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles while he drives into you with deep, punishing strokes. The coil in your belly snaps without warning.

You cry out, loud and broken, as your second orgasm crashes over you. “Holy fuck- Sam- I- fuck-”

Your walls clamp down around him rhythmically, pulsing and fluttering as pleasure tears through your body. Sam’s hips stutter, his rhythm turning erratic as he fucks you through it.

“Fuck- that’s my girl,” he groans, voice wrecked. “So good for me. So fucking perfect- shit-”

With a deep, guttural moan, Sam buries himself to the hilt and cums hard. His cock pulses inside you as he spills deep, hips jerking up with every thick spurt. He holds you down on him, grinding up slowly as he rides out his orgasm, face buried in your neck.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room are your heavy breathing and the faint creak of the old bed.

Sam’s arms wrap around you tightly as the tension finally drains from his body. He presses soft, lingering kisses along your shoulder and up your neck, his touch turning gentle. Carefully, he shifts you both so he’s lying back on the bed again, keeping you draped over his chest. His long legs stretch out, one foot still braced on the floor, but he doesn’t seem to care.

You collapse against him, cheek pressed to his warm, sweaty chest, listening to the rapid thud of his heartbeat slowly calming. His large hand strokes up and down your back in soothing motions, while the other gently threads through your hair.

“God… I love you,” Sam whispers, voice soft and rough with emotion. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. I thought we were smarter than this baby. Thought that you knew how much I care about you.”

You tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes are warm now, full of tenderness and relief.

“I thought I’d lose you on that Leviathan hunt,” he confesses quietly, his hand still stroking your back. “When I saw you bleeding… when you screamed… it fucking broke something in me. That’s why I was so angry. I was terrified. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you before I ever got to tell you how I feel.”

You press a soft kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “I was scared too. Scared of ruining what we had. But I’m done hiding it, Sam. I love you. All of you.”

He smiles- a real, soft smile that makes your chest ache- and tightens his arms around you, holding you closer. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin as he continues speaking.

“You’re my home,” he murmurs. “In every shitty motel, every fight, every victory. I want you here with me. In this Bunker. In my bed. Every night. No more pretending. No more almost dying because we’re both too stubborn to admit what we want.”

Sam tilts your chin up gently and kisses you- slow, deep, and full of love. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he promises softly. “Always. My girl.”

You settle back against his chest, feeling safe and warm in his arms as his hand continues its gentle strokes along your spine. The locked room, Dean’s meddling, and all the weeks of tension finally feel worth it.

For the first time in years, everything feels right.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

Soft morning light filtered through the faint cracks around the heavy metal door of the hidden room. You stirred slowly, warm and heavy with contentment, your body draped over Sam’s chest. At some point in the night you’d both kicked the blanket half off, leaving most of your skin pressed together. You were still completely naked, one of his long legs tangled with yours, his large hand resting possessively on your bare hip.

Sam was already awake. His fingers traced lazy circles along your spine as he watched you, hazel eyes soft in the dim light. When you tilted your head up to look at him, he smiled- that rare, genuine smile that made your heart stutter.

“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. He leaned down and kissed you slowly, sweet and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world now.

“Morning,” you whispered back against his lips, smiling. “We survived the night.”

“Barely,” he teased, but his hand slid up to cup your cheek tenderly. “Best night of my life, though.”

You nestled closer, pressing a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. The two of you stayed like that for a while- quiet, warm, and happy- trading soft touches and even softer confessions.

Then the distinct sound of the locking mechanism humming to life broke the peace.

The heavy door creaked open.

Dean stepped inside, holding two coffee cups and looking far too pleased with himself… until his eyes landed on the bed.

“Morning, lovebirds— Oh for fucks sake!” Dean groaned, immediately turning his head away and slapping a hand over his eyes. “Jesus Christ, you two couldn’t at least put some clothes on? I do not need to see my brother’s bare ass at eight in the morning.”

You yelped and yanked the blanket up over both of you. Sam just chuckled, completely unbothered, one arm still wrapped around your waist under the covers.

“Morning, Dean,” Sam said casually, like they were sitting in the kitchen instead of him being buck naked with you on top of him. “Took you long enough. We were starting to think you’d forgotten about us.”

Dean peeked through his fingers, then immediately looked away again with a dramatic shudder. “Forgotten? I was giving you two idiots time! I didn’t think I’d open the door to a fuckin’ nudie show. Put some damn pants on, Sammy. No one wants to see all that.”

Sam smirked, clearly enjoying his brother’s discomfort. “You’re the one who locked us in here, Dean. What did you expect? We were just… talking.”

“Yeah, sure. Talking,” Dean snorted, setting the coffees down on the table with exaggerated care while still refusing to look at the bed. “That’s why the room smells like a damn brothel and you’re both glowing like you just won the lottery. Congrats on finally pulling your heads out of your asses, by the way. Only took you idiots like eight years.”

You buried your face in Sam’s neck, trying to hold in your laughter.

Sam grinned wider. “That’s rich coming from the guy who once spent three weeks pining after a waitress before he even asked for her number.”

“Shut up,” Dean shot back, pointing blindly in Sam’s direction. “At least I have the decency to protect you from what comes after I have sex. You two are nasty. I’m burning this room after you leave. Sage, holy water, the works.”

Sam laughed, the sound deep and warm beneath you. “You’re just jealous no one’s locked you in a room with someone lately.”

Dean groaned loudly. “I hate you. Both of you. I’m happy for you. Really- but I’m also deeply traumatized. Next time, hang a sock on the door. Or better yet, just use your actual rooms like normal people.”

“Next time?” Sam raised an eyebrow, still smirking. “So you’re planning on locking us in again?”

Dean flipped him off as he backed toward the door. “I’m going to go pour bleach directly into my eyeballs. Breakfast is ready whenever you two lovebirds decide to stop traumatizing me. And for the love of God, shower before you come eat. You both smell like sex.”

The second the door clicked shut behind him, you buried your face in Sam’s neck, shaking with laughter. Sam’s arms tightened around you as he laughed too- deep, warm, and free.

“Oh my god,” you wheezed. “The look on his face.”

“Payback for locking us in,” Sam said, grinning as he rolled you both so he was hovering over you, eyes sparkling with happiness. “Worth it.”

You reached up, threading your fingers through his messy hair and pulling him down for another kiss. When you broke apart, both of you were still smiling.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Sam’s expression softened, full of warmth. “I love you too. We’re doing this right from now on.”