bl1ssfulbaby

[bl1ssfulbaby]

Literally amazing work right here

Strung Up (Cont.)

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 32.8k words Warnings: NSFW, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (violence), graphic descriptions of violence, graphic descriptions of death, murder, blood, gore, anxiety, panic attack, implications of stalking, frequent swearing, drug use, alcohol use, manipulation, degradation (not always in the sexy way), dubious consent, light praise kink, fingering, groping, oral sex, multiple orgasms, spanking, titty fucking, masturbation, vaguely masochistic tendencies… A/N: IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Not all of the warnings are listed above, but the full list of warnings is provided here. The only reason they're not all here is to avoid spoilers throughout the story, but none of the warnings unlisted here should be trigger warnings. If you're still unsure, please feel free to check the list. But if you want to go into this blind, go right ahead! A/N II: Okay so...I did finish the last two scenes at 3 o'clock in the morning last night, but hey! We finished! This is the last upload for my Kinktober 2024 event. I'm glad I was able to finish just in time, and I hope you all enjoy this just as much as I did (even though I almost gave up five different times but that's not important.) Thank you so much and Happy Halloween! A/N III: The story is too long so Tumblr won't let me post this. Because of this, I will ahve to split it into two parts (which is annoying bc it will really damage notes and stuff and it's harder to manage >:( )

The warmth of Eddie's hand on your back is very comforting. As soon as he ushers you out of the car, his hand falls to the small of your back and holds you there to guide you into the very large house.

“I'm back!” she shouts, mindful of your ears. He leads you into the living room where everyone is gathered with blankets and pillows and beer.

There's a mess of greetings as you enter the room with Eddie.

“What's up, Back? The name's Argyle, my dude.” He holds his hand out with a grin.

Eddie rolls his eyes and takes his previous seat on the floor, pillows and blankets included, and gestures for you to sit next to him. “You think you're funny, but you're not,” Eddie lightly scolds, offering you a beer. You take it.

His hands shoot up as he shakes his head. “Hey, hey, hey! Pump the brakes, duderino. Just a lil joke, it's good to laugh.” Argyle chuckles before finally looking over at you. His smile drops, and he looks at you with reddened eyes. “Woah. Who's the girl you got with you, Eddie?”

Jonathan looks at him with a brow raised in confusion. “Argyle, you’ve met her before.”

He just shakes his head, his long flowing locks swishing with the movement. “I don’t think so. I remember every face that passes my perimeter, and I don’t remember her. Fess up.”

Now Robin’s confused (as are you, because you’ve definitely had conversations with this boy before). “She’s sat at our table many times.”

He crosses his arms now. “I have no recollection of this whatsoever.”

“Seriously?” Jonathan lightly smacks his hand against his shoulder.

Argyle’s character breaks. He starts laughing as he nods and pats his knee. “Ha, ha! I’m just kidding.” He holds his hand out for you to slap, which you do. “What’s up, dudette? How’s it hangin’?”

You shrug, smiling a bit. “Well, it's hangin’.”

“Right on,” he nods. “Come and join the party. We were just tryna decide which horror movie we should put on.”

You tuck your legs beneath you, leaning back against the couch behind you where Steve and Robin are. “You're seriously watching horror movies? With everything going on?”

Robin tsks as she shakes her head. “I told them it was distasteful.”

Nancy, perched on the single sofa, shrugs as she offers her suggestion “We could watch Gremlins.”

Eddie scoffs, glancing over at her as he throws his arms back on the couch. This brings an arm almost draping over your shoulder, which you hardly blink at. You're used to Eddie and all his touchiness, the way he’s always touching you, holding you. It’s comforting, if nothing else.

“That is, arguably, not a horror movie,” he says.

Argyle tilts his head from side to side, considering that and deciding he disagrees. “I don’t know. Some of those little critters were pretty spooky to me.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “Then you’re a wuss. Gremlins isn’t scary.”

“Friday the 13th?” Steve’s quite proud of that suggestion as he chirps up from behind you and Eddie. “That one’s a really good one.”

Robin smacks him, scoffing loudly when his hand covers where she hit him. “A movie about a bunch of teenagers being slaughtered in the middle of the woods by a masked killer?” She rolls her eyes. “That’s not insensitive at all.”

He scowls at her. “We’re not in the woods.” He shoves her.

“And none of the victims were found in the woods either,” Jonathan pipes up. There’s something mischievous in his tone that doesn’t sit right with you. “Carver was strung up and gutted. Cassidy was stabbed, and her throat was cut so deep her head almost came clean off. Tommy H and Carol Perkins were sliced up like bacon.”

His depictions swirl in your gut and make you feel a little sick. Images of the last two victims flash in your mind, their unblinking eyes, their bloodied faces, their chests like overused pin cushions, insides on the outside. You don’t realize it when you scoot closer to Eddie. His arm officially falls to your shoulders.

“Hey, man,” Argyle speaks up. “I like bacon! Don’t say that.”

Steve rolls his eyes, staring at Jonathan. “Dude, it’s called tact.” You register his hand nudging your shoulder, gently rubbing a tiny circle with his knuckle. You assume he’d noticed your unease.

Jonathan waves a hand. “All I’m saying is, Mrs. Voorhees isn’t gonna getcha.”

You raise a brow, speaking like it’s obvious (because it is). “Yeah, but Ghostface might.” You bring the can to your lips, taking a drink of your beer and scowling. Then with a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you take another drink.

“Wait,” Nancy mutters. “I thought Jason was the killer in that movie.”

Argyle flinches. “Oh, that’s just bad timing.”

You drop your head in your hands at his point out. Either way, you shake your head. “No,” you look up, “the original killer was his mom. Jason didn’t show up ‘til the sequel.”

Eddie smacks a hand over his chest. “Ugh!” he swoons. “A woman after my own heart.”

You smack him yourself, rolling your eyes. “Oh, please.”

“Anyway,” Jonathan corrects, “Ghostface isn’t going to come after us because we’re in a group. Lone killers don’t strike groups, it’s why you’re never supposed to split up in a horror movie.”

Argyle nods. “It’s a low level rule. Doesn’t guarantee survival, but it’s a good measure to follow.” He holds his hands up with a smile. “We follow the rules and none of us get sliced and diced.”

“The rules?” Eddie wonders, glancing at you to see if you know what they’re talking about. You just shrug.

“The horror movie rules.” Jonathan shrugs like it’s obvious. (It’s not.) You glance behind you to glance at Robin, who’s just as confused as you are.

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

Jonathan seems to be in completely disbelief as he whips his head to Argyle, who’s sharing similar feelings. “You don’t know the rules of being in a horror movie? Everyone knows them.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Obviously not if we’re asking.”

Argyle crosses his legs, straightening his back as he holds his arms out. “Take a seat and let us teach you the ways, younglings.”

Eddie vaguely gestures to Steve as he raises a brow. “We’re older than you.”

Neither of them pay attention to him. “Rule number one,” Jonathan begins, “Never—never—drink or do drugs.”

Steve clears his throat, raising his can in the air. Everyone in the room slowly follows suit, some clinking as if to toast to the rule. “We kinda beat you to that,” Nancy says as she brings the lip of the can to her own.

“You’re high, Gyle,” Robin points out.

Argyle shrugs. “So is Jonathan, and Eddie’s a dealer. Sometimes you just got plot armor.”

“So we’re all going to die?” Eddie wonders.

“Nope,” Jonathan says. “You need a survivor, or your movie’s bland. And the survivor’s always a girl, so one of you probably has crazy plot protection.” He points out each of the girls in the room.

“Wrong!” Eddie almost shouts it. “Evil Dead. Survivor’s a guy—it was Ash Williams.”

“And the Friday the 13th series has, like, three male survivors,” Steve adds. “And The Thing has no survivors.”

“Neither does Night of the Living Dead.” Eddie beams at your contribution.

Argyle dismisses everything, waving his hands at you all. “We’re not talking about monster movies, man.”

“And just be glad this isn't a sequel, otherwise everyone here would be on the chopping block.” Jonathan says it with little remorse.

Argyle huddles toward him, lowering his voice ineffectively. “Well, they don't needa know that. Not tryna scare ‘em, man.”

“Shit,” Jonathan mutters, covering his mouth. “You're right.”

Argyle nods enthusiastically. “Anyway, plot armor. You guys probably have it, it's okay.”

“You're comic relief though, right?” Robin quips. She smirks, “Don't comic reliefs usually die in slashers?”

A look of horror crosses Argyle’s face. “Oh, shit,” he gasps, snapping his head to Jonathan. “You think I'm gonna die, Byers?”

Jonathan, who is now worried about the same thing, shakes his head with no amount of certainty. “No…” he says, in no way convincing. “No, man. You're…” He pats his shoulder, looking away. “You'll be fine.”

“Promise?”

Jonathan actually shakes his head as he says, “Yeah, man… Promise.”

Argyle smiles, somehow reassured. He looks back at Robin, his brows furrowed. “Hey! Stop distracting. We're tryna save your lives here.”

Stifling her laugh, Nancy moves forward. “What's number two?”

“Oh, right. Número dos,” he continues. “Never. Have. Sex. Ever.” He points at each of you to make his point. “If you participate in the Devil's Tango at any point in the story, you die.”

“Virgins always live,” Jonathan nods.

You swallow thickly, glancing down at your hands as you recall the day before: Jake's wandering hands, his lips on your neck, his body…

“Think I'd rather die,” Eddie comments. Steve shoves Eddie, and a collective murmur of agreement floats between nearly everyone, pulling you enough from your thoughts to scoff.

“Slut,” you mutter, directed toward Eddie.

He smiles, beaming from ear to ear. “Okay, little miss Mary. Where are you on the virginity scale?”

You press your smile into a thin line, turning back to Argyle as you clear your throat. “Rule three?”

Eddie snickers, but it sounds half-hearted.

“I like the way you roll,” Argyle laughs. He turns to Jonathan. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” They stare at each other as they count down from three.

“Never–” “Don't–”

“Seriously?” Jonathan exclaims, snapping back around to his friend.

“Ah, shit, man. I’m sorry, man.” Argyle shakes his head woefully. “That was me,” he admits.

Jonathan shakes his head, disappointed by their lack of coordination. “Never say you’ll be right back,” he says without any of the flair he intended. “Because you won’t.”

Eddie stands, adjusting his shirt as he waves a hand at them. “I’m gonna go pick up my sweet Mary Jane,” he says, fondly placing his hands over his heart. “Anyone want some?”

“Eddie,” Argyle sighs, smiling just as fondly. “That sounds like a delectable idea.”

“Awesome. Hey,” he smirks mischievously, walking backwards toward the door. “I’ll be right back!”

There’s a lot of laughter, some protests, Steve tosses a crushed beer can at him—which clatters against the wall and falls to the floor, completely missing him. He’s laughing on his way out the front door. When it closes behind him, a bad feeling settles in your stomach.

Everyone else has already moved on to the next thing, still debating movies and the validity of these supposed “rules”. While they’re distracted, you decide to follow Eddie out. You don’t want to leave him alone and risk him getting hurt, and you’re paranoid enough to believe it will happen.

As you begin to leave the living room, Steve’s head perks up. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, his voice soft enough to keep the conversation between the two of you.

You nod, gesturing toward the door. “Yeah. Goin’ after Eddie.”

“No, I mean…” He gets up to join you, following you to the door as you both stop in the small hall. “Are you okay? You seemed pretty distressed on the phone.”

“Oh,” you mumble, scratching your neck and looking down at your shoes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I just..” You take in a deep breath, willing yourself to look at Steve as you nod. “Trouble is paradise, I guess,” you shrug.

Steve nods a bit, scratching his own neck. “Ah,” he says with an understanding that puts you at ease.

“Yeah.” You sigh. “But I’ll be okay.” You start to turn back to the door, but he gently grabs your wrist. He doesn’t hurt you, and it’s not invasive.

“You sure?” He lets you go and gestures to his house. “Always welcome here if you need it.”

You smile, looking over his face, so kind and so gentle. “Thanks,” you grin. “I’ll be okay.” You say it a little more definitely now, offering him a smile that seems more believable now.

He smiles gently, nodding as he slowly steps away from you. “Alright,” he says, raising his hand and waving a little. “Go make sure he doesn’t get himself killed or anything.”

Your eyes widen in a playful kind of horror. “Don’t say that!” you exclaim quietly, a gentle scold. He laughs, turning on his heel to return to the living room. You push the front door open, turning as well to see the boy you were looking for.

“Eddie,” you call gently from the door, spotting him at the door of his van.

He turns on his heels, smiling at you and gesturing you forward. “Hey, sweetheart. You gonna be my knight in shining armor?” He bobs his brows where they disappear in the fringe of his wild hair.

You chuckle lightly. “Sure.”

“Well, c’mon then.” He makes a grand sweeping gesture with his hand, encouraging you forward. You follow after him. He throws the back doors of his van open, bowing dramatically to offer you entry. You shake your head playfully as you climb in with him following right after. He closes the doors behind him and sits across from you, his shoe bumping yours as he does.

“We’re not going back inside?” you wonder.

He shrugs. “They’ll be fine without us for a bit.” He reaches over his body to grab something, his shirt riding up his side with the stretch. Your eyes trail down at the movement, but you quickly correct yourself. He grabs his lunchbox, shaking it toward you with a smile. “Do you want one?”

You chuckle lightly, raising a brow. “I’m not gonna die?”

“Never.” He says it with more intensity than you’d anticipated. “I’ll protect you from the mean and scary Ghostface.”

You don’t mean to be so genuine when you say it, but you are and he doesn’t bat an eye. “Promise?”

Eddie’s hand falls to his chest, right over where his heart sits. “On my life,” he promises.

You swallow thickly, looking away as bashfulness nips at your fingertips. “Can’t say things like that,” you tell him, glancing up. “Our lives are what’s at stake.”

Eddie opens the box, looking up at you with all the sincerity he has. “That’s exactly why I’m saying it,” he shakes like it’s nothing. Like it’s the easiest thing to promise—to protect you with his life. You look away again, unsure of whether you want to smile because he’s so sweet or cry because he’s too sweet.

A comfortable silence settles in the space between you, which he fills with the task of rolling his blunt. You take this opportunity to look at him, while he’s too distracted to do the same.

You like looking at Eddie. He’s always been very pretty to you. He’s got these wild locks of hair, entirely unruly to reflect his rebellion. His eyes are these big, dark pools of honey. They’re always so warm and reassuring, and they make you feel nice (even when sometimes, the warmth seems a little forced…like he’s struggling to maintain it when there’s the option of just…being upset.)

Beyond his hair and his eyes, there’s his smile. He’s got plump lips made for kissing, plump lips he’s always got screwed into a smile simmering with care and heat. Though he denies it, his nose is so lightly sprinkled with these precious freckles. If you look close enough in the right light, you can see a light dust beneath his eyes.

You glance down at his hands where they crush little green buds. He’s got nice hands, decorated with giant silver rings that make him look like a rockstar. You really like his hands.

“So…” Your attention shifts back to his face. “Why did you fight?” He looks up at you through his fringe, soft eyes simmering something a little difficult to place. It takes you a moment to gather the courage to respond. You pick at your nails, pulling your knee to your chest. Eddie corrects himself. He holds his hand up, “You don’t have to tell me if you're not comfortable.”

His concern warms your chest. “Eddie,” you say, “if there’s anyone I’m comfortable around, it’s you.”

He tilts his head to his shoulder, fluttering his lashes. “Aww,” he grins.

You snort, glad when he looks away. You chew on your bottom lip, trying to decide how to phrase it. You don’t want Eddie to misunderstand. “I was telling them about…” You consider telling him about the letter, but quickly decide against it. That’s what got you in this mess anyway.

Besides…it’s likely nothing at all…

“About how afraid all of this was making me,” you respond hesitantly, “and they weren’t listening to me. They…never listen to me.” You stare blankly at your nails where your cuticles have been abused by the amount of stress you’ve been under.

Eddie watches you carefully, his eyes always soft. His foot nudges yours again so gently, you almost don’t feel it. “Are you afraid now?”

You look up at him, smiling gently. “Not in this moment.”

He tilts his head. “What was scaring you?”

“Just some…” you shrug, trying to clear your head. You didn’t want to think about it right now. “Some stupid joke. Someone playing a trick on me, probably. It’s nothing.”

He raises a brow. You can tell he doesn’t believe you, but his gaze isn’t entirely of gentle encouragement as it is of a strange suspicion. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod, giving him a strained smile. He stares at you for a while, assessing the look on your face. After a moment, he gives up with a sigh, nodding gently and continuing his task.

You're tired.

It's tiring being scared and anxious all the time. Everything that's been happening, the murders and the letters, they've only been stacked on top of all the other emotions going through your head, and you're tired. You hadn't realized it until now.

The more silence that lingers, the more time you have to think…mostly about what Jake had told you. You supposed you'd been so distracted by the glitz and glams of having a lover that you didn't even consider the idea that he wasn't…a lover.

You never realized that he, in fact, did not want you.

And then you think…maybe you were a bit dramatic. He's under a lot of stress, and people say things they don't mean when they're upset—it happens all the time. Maybe you're looking for excuses now to leave. And if you are, does that make you a bad person for not wanting to deal with him anymore or are you just dumb for trying to find an excuse to defend him—or! Maybe you're just trying to find a reason to be upset, because it's not like you talk to anyone for any other reason than your problems.

And here you are in Eddie's van. You made it about you again. God, you just wish you were normal. You wish you weren't such a pain in the ass.

“Eddie?” You hadn't meant to call his name. It was an impulse, and you don't actually want to ask what you were going to ask.

“Hm?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. Sorry.”

He looks up, concern creasing his brows. “What's wrong?” he insists.

You shake your head with a little more desperation. You want to drop it because you don't want him to be right. “It's nothing. Sorry.”

“Hey.” He reaches over and nudges you. He looks at you through his bangs, his eyes nothing if not puppy-like. “Tell me.”

You swallow thickly. Your eyes feel hot, but you blink to ignore the heat anyway. “Do you…” you clear your throat when it comes out raspy, “...think I'm whiny?”

His hands pause entirely on his task, and he stares at you with a look that you don't think you've ever seen before. It's a kind of warmth that feels like you'll burn alive. You notice the slightest tightening of his jaw, his fingers flexing on his lunchbox as he seals the latch.

His eyes flit from yours to your necklace. You notice the slightest movement of his bobbing Adam's apple. “Did he tell you that?” he asks, his voice low.

There's a long pause where you hesitate to speak. You've never seen him so…serious. You look down at your hands, twiddling your thumbs as you swallow down the lump in your throat.

When you don't say anything, he locks eyes with you once more. “What did he say?”

You rub your arm anxiously. “He called me delusional. He said…” You look away from him again, your voice so quiet that it's almost a whisper. “He said, ‘Why do you have to be such a whiny little bitch?’”

You hear him sigh. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't even look at you as he processes what you've told him.

The moment is still, though there's a slight brewing of something solemn in the space between you.

Then Eddie takes a deep breath in, pauses, and without blinking an eye, says, “I'm gonna kill him.”

Your lips threaten to break into a grin, and your eyes go wide as dimes. “Eddie!” you exclaim, lightly smacking him. You shake your head scoldingly. “You can’t say that.”

“I am,” he repeats, humor returning to his tone as he smiles at you, holding an arm up to shield from your swatting hand. He makes sure to articulate this time. “I’m going to kill him.”

You laugh, though it quickly becomes weak. “It’s fine, really,” you say, trying to keep the happy mood you’d been able to lift the two of you into. But it’s hard because you just keep thinking about everything, and everything hurts. “I just…” You swallow thickly, breathing in with more effort than it should take. “It doesn’t bother…” Your breath catches. “I… I don’t feel–”

Eddie’s hands are already reaching out for you upon hearing the tremble in his voice. His smile drops once more, and he sighs when he’s got you pulled closely to his chest. He shushes you gently, petting you in warm, soothing strokes with you tucked beneath his chin.

You can’t keep the tears in. It comes crashing down again, and hot tears rush down your cheeks. You hadn’t meant to cry. You’re not supposed to be crying. Your head hurts as you nuzzle into his chest, pressing your nose to his shirt and inhaling the scent of his cologne, his detergent, his skin. It’s a comforting smell that turns your heaving chest to gentle tremors of breath.

It takes some time for the erratic breaths to calm, but Eddie doesn’t seem bothered by the time. His hands are gentle, he’s warm and inviting. He soothes you with the gentle hush of his voice whispering, “Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay. Okay? Hm?”

It does make you feel better.

You get it together faster than he thought you would. He doesn’t pull away from you as he speaks gently, the sounds reverberating in his chest with a deep hum. “You know you don’t have to take care of me, right?”

You sniffle, pulling away from him. He doesn’t let you go too far. Still within his arms, you shift so you sit beside him and rest your head on his shoulder. “I know, but…” You wipe your face roughly. You settle your voice enough to sound a little more in control, the strained sound made from tears and aching breaths channeled into something more forceful in an attempt to sound stronger than you feel. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me and my stupid feelings. You always have to deal with me and my stupid feelings.” You mumble that last part mostly to yourself.

His arm is tucked behind you, rubbing gentle circles into the small of your back. “They’re not stupid,” he promises. “Your boyfriend fucking sucks. God, I hate that guy.” He rolls his eyes, and gives a hard look to the wall of the van just so that he’s not glaring at you when he says it. His head turns back to you, a genuine question full of opposition falling from his tongue. “Why don’t you break up with him?”

You turn your face on his shoulder so your forehead rests against the bump of it, shaking your head and sniffling still. “I just…” You sigh woefully. “Everyone keeps telling me we’ll be high school sweethearts.” Your voice lifts a little with false hope. “And it sounds so nice, finding that person you want to be with young and then…spending your life with them.” You speak as if from a distant dream. You blink a few tears from your eyes. You mutter under your breath so softly that he wouldn’t have heard you if you weren’t so close. “Stupid.”

Eddie stares at you, his lashes kissing his cheeks and his head tilted just slightly to his left. “Hey,” he mutters, his large palm engulfing your cheek to encourage you to look at him. There is only sincerity in his voice when he speaks. His other hand finds you and holds your face.

“Nothing about you is stupid. I think the only stupid thing you’ve ever done was date that guy. He’s an asshole, and he doesn’t deserve you.” He shakes his head, wild hair shifting. “Because you’re perfect. You hear me?”

The slightest echo of words you shoved to the back of your mind arises. You breathe gently, slowly nodding your head. “Yeah…” you sigh. “I hear you.”

He wipes your tears away with his thumbs. “Please don’t cry.”

His voice is so small and soft, you almost feel bad for crying (and then you remember that he doesn’t want you to feel bad, and then you do your best not to).

You encourage his hands from your face, scooting close to him for the warmth and letting your head drop to your hands. You stay there for a long time, stewing. “I feel like I’m losing my mind,” you muffle into your palms. “And you’re the only one who ever listens to me.”

He scoffs, and though it’s an attempt at humor to lift your spirits, it lacks the humor he’s wanting. “That’s ‘cause you have shit friends. Except for me, of course.”

When you laugh, his smile is genuine. You’re already sounding better. “Except for you,” you mutter as you pull yourself from your hands. You sniff, and then look at him. You notice the tears on the fabric of his shirt from a moment ago and wince lightly. “Sorry for crying on your shirt.”

His brows furrow funnily. “You kidding?” He laughs lightly. “I’ll never wash this shirt again.”

You scrunch your nose. “That’s gross.”

He chuckles, bringing his hands to wipe under your eyelids where the remnants of your tears still lay. You sigh, and it's the kind of sigh that releases all the tension in your body. You slump into his hands, and he smiles.

Eddie lets go of you in favor of grabbing the blunt he'd made. He brings it between his fingers and shows it off to you like ancient treasure. “Here,” he smiles. “You can have the first hit.”

You grab it without looking, lingering there for a moment. “Thank you,” you murmur, your voice heavy with emotion.

He smirks, furrowing his brow. “It's just a hit.”

“Not that, dummy,” you say, pushing him lightly. He laughs whole-heartedly. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot to me.”

He smiles, his lashes kissing in a slow blink. “Anytime,” he breathes. He nudges your shoulder lightly, “Hey. You know you can trust me, right?”

Your lips pull in a brief smile. You're focusing on not staring down at his lips, so close to you and moving so gently with each word. “Yeah. I know.”

It's silent as you stare at one another. His eyes are more brown in the gentle light of his van when you're this close to him. They almost look like glass in the way that they shine, glossy and smooth.

You hadn't realized it when you leaned in, but you do notice when his soft breaths fan over your lashes. You lick your lip as you lean away again, looking down at the blunt between your fingers as you silently scold yourself for doing such a thing…trying to kiss Eddie. There was something wrong with you, deeply wrong.

You shake it off, setting the blunt between your lips and looking back at him. Eddie watched you for a moment before wordlessly fetching his lighter. He flicks the flame to life and sets it beneath the end.

You take the first drag, already anticipating the relief it'll bring you once it kicks in. You slowly blow out the smoke as you pass it to Eddie, who takes it graciously.

He closes his eyes as his lips wrap around the blunt. He lingers there perhaps a bit longer than he should, and then smiles at you as the smoke shoots from his mouth.

~

“Guys, wake up.”

You're woken up rather rudely. It'd been a long day, you were exhausted. The sun has barely risen in the sky, and someone's voice is ripping you from your slumber. You get up slowly, pushing yourself to get your head off the pillow from your spot on the couch. Eddie’s slumped on the floor, blankets and pillows cushioning his spot. He blindly reaches a hand up to feel for your own, though he doesn’t move to sit up as he mumbles something under his breath. (Something along the lines of “Just one more goddamn minute, please.”)

Robin sounds half-asleep as she hoists herself up from her curled up position in Steve’s single-sofa too quickly to be kind. “What? What’s going on?” she stumbles, looking around to find Nancy in the middle of the living room.

“Principal Higgins is dead.”

You’re awake now.

It’s only then when you notice the quiet droning of the television, the sound so low that it was easy to miss. There are police lights and caution tape and crowds of people being kept out by authorities. It’s all very unsettling.

Steve sits up quickly, his tousled brown hair a mess on his head. “What?” His gaze snaps to the television, where everyone else follows. You wipe your face quickly, grabbing Eddie’s hand when it finally finds yours.

“How?” you question when you find your voice.

“They found him strung up on the goal post.” Nancy turns up the sound. “They’re shutting down the school until further notice.”

Jonathan sits up, though his face has fallen in seriosity, his tone doesn’t match. “I mean…” he mutters, “score for school being out.”

“Jonathan!” Robin yells.

Argyle shakes his head, combing his fingers through his hair to fix the straight locks. “I never liked him too much, but killin’ the dude?” He sighs, “Not cool, man.”

You shove yourself off the couch to sit next to Eddie, who’s arm instinctively moves to pull you in. You let yourself be comforted by him as you shake your head. “What did Higgins even do?”

Argyle shrugs. “Everyone wants to kill the principal.”

You roll your eyes at his remark; although true, not entirely helpful. “Yeah, but no one actually does it.”

The phone rings suddenly, a very loud sound that slices through the thick air and makes everyone jump. Nancy rushes to grab it, as she’s already standing. “Hello?” There’s a pause. Her eyes fall on someone in the room, and she holds the phone out. “Robin, it’s your grandmother.”

Robin moves to stand, walking over to grab the phone from Nancy. She holds it up to her ear, mumbles something over the phone, and then hangs up. “She wants me home. She doesn’t feel safe with me out of the house.”

It only takes a couple minutes for the phone to ring again and again and again. Joyce Byers, Karen Wheeler, Wayne Munson. Everyone is called home ASAP (except for you, of course). Your parents are still away on a business trip, entirely unaware that there is a serial killer in Hawkins who’s going around killing teenagers, while their only daughter stays home alone with no one to protect her…

Eddie ends up taking you home. When he drops you off, his leg is bouncing and he seems entirely displeased by the fact that you’re insisting on being here. Something about “in case my parents call” or whatever. Really, you just don’t want Eddie to get tired of you by being around so much…and you don’t want to burden him with the responsibility of protecting you.

“You sure you don’t want to stay with me? I promise Wayne won’t mind.”

His brows are frowning like even they are concerned. You open the door, ignoring the way your hand trembles at the aspect of staying home alone in this circumstance. You hope he doesn’t notice as you give him the most reassuring smile you can handle.

“I’ll be fine,” you insist in an effort to convince even yourself.

Eddie doesn’t believe it. He reaches a hand out to cover yours. “You sure?” He sighs, “I really don’t mind. I can even convince Wayne to let me stay with you tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You shake your head. “I’ll be okay,” you quiet your voice in the hopes that he will hear you better. “Just…call me.”

He stares at you for a long time, shaking his head and looking very upset by the idea of leaving you here alone. With a defeated sigh, he runs a hand down his face and nods. Then she shakes his head. “I’m gonna pick you up before curfew.”

You groan. “Eddie–”

“No,” he says, his tone firm and without room for argument. “I’ll be back at curfew, and you’ll stay the night with me. Okay?”

You hate that it makes you feel better, but it does. With a sigh of half-defeat, you open the door. “Okay.”

He squeezes your hand gently. “Be safe. Lock the doors.”

And the windows, you think to yourself. “I will,” you agree.

You hesitate before grabbing your things and stepping out of his van. You close the door behind you and slowly make your way to your front door. Eddie watches you the whole way, refusing to leave you until you’re safely inside with the door locked.

You unlock the front door with shaky hands, closing your eyes and hoping against all hope that there’s no note waiting for you when you return. You step inside and close the door a little harder than you’re supposed to. It’s at least a solid minute before you hear Eddie’s van driving away.

Now you’re alone.

~

When they’re a knock at the door, you’re surprised you didn’t hear Eddie pull up. It’s usually very clear when Eddie arrives, he makes sure his entrance is note-worthy. You pull your door open to greet him, having come to terms with the fact that you are happy to be with Eddie tonight. But when the door is open, your shoulders tense and your face falls into something less excited.

“What do you want?” you ask, your tone flat as you stare at the girl on the other side of the door. “You’re not supposed to be out here, it’s almost past curfew.”

Brynn crosses her arms over her chest. “And you’re not supposed to be alone.” When your expression doesn’t change, and you still look very upset, she sighs and holds her hands up in a truce. “I came to apologize.”

You want to turn her away…but it is almost past curfew, and part of you does want to hear what she has to say. You consider it a moment longer and then sigh as you step back to let her in.

You close the door behind her, locking it tight. You pass by Brynn on your way to the kitchen, putting the island between the two of you simply to show her where you’re at. She doesn’t speak right away. She looks like she's trying to decide what to say to you. She reaches for her arm, stroking it lightly before beginning.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “You were right, I should've been on your side, and I wasn’t.” She cards her fingers through her hair. “It’s just been crazy with all these psycho murders, and Jake was out of line for saying that shit to you.”

You cross your arms, though the action is half-hearted. You shift on your feet, nodding slightly. “Yes, he was.”

“I’m really sorry, hon,” she repeats, tilting her head to the side. She steps forward, placing a hand on the island as an olive branch. “Walk me through it. What’s been going on?”

You stare at her for a long time, debating whether you should tell her or not. All you’ve been wanting from her for a long time is just for her to listen to you. Now she’s here offering to do just that, and you’re not even sure you want it anymore…

But, with a sigh, you concede. “I–”

The harsh ringing of the phone cuts you off. You look at it quickly wondering if it’s Eddie saying that he’s on his way. You don’t know who else it could be.

You pick up the phone, bringing it to your ear to greet. “Hello?”

“Hello, my little puppet.”

You practically slam the phone back down. A wave of shock and fear crashes through you, your eyes wide and your heart racing as you stumble back. Brynn is startled into the same state as she clutches her chest. “It’s him.” Your voice trembles, and tears are already springing to your eyes. You didn’t recognize the voice, so you’re still no closer to figuring out who this psycho is.

“Who?” she insists, stepping over to you.

“Fucking—him. The killer,” you stumble over your words, your tongue tied with each syllable you try to get out. “Fucking Ghostface!”

The phone rings again, and you move away from it as quickly as possible. You look frantically to Brynn, as if she’ll have all the answers. As if she knows how to make it stop.

She marches over to the phone, picking it up with a determined look on her face. “Listen–”

You watch her face widen in horror. Her grip on the phone trembles as she seems to stop breathing. She glances over at you, swallowing thickly before quietly passing the phone back to you. You shake your head quickly, still moving away with clumsy steps.

“I don’t want to,” you nearly whisper.

She clears her throat a bit. “I don’t think you have a choice.”

Your fearful sigh trembles as it passes from your lungs. You close your eyes shut, steeling your nerves before reaching out and grabbing the phone. You try to keep your voice steady, but it proves to be futile as your voice wavers on your words. “What do you want?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” the voice says. It’s a strange voice. It sounds almost artificial. “I just wanna talk, sweet girl. I know you’ve been getting my letters, and I know you keep them locked away in your closet to think of me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to contain your sob. Your eyes find Brynn after a moment, who’s terrified by what’s going on. These things aren’t supposed to happen in real life, and yet here you are.

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy in love with you,” he chuckles.

“What do you want?”

There’s a pause. You hear him inhale. “I want to give you another token of my love,” he says. “Turn on the back porch light.”

Your blood runs cold. You think you literally feel your heart stop in your chest, and you’re almost gasping for air at the feeling. You whip your head to Brynn, then to the glass sliding door in the living room. Your breaths are heavy through the phone. “I don’t–”

“Do it.” His voice lowers to something scarier, and you startle at the sound.

You walk with shaky legs slowly to the living room. Brynn follows you, her movements just as hesitant as she reaches a hand out to grab yours. You squeeze it tight, bracing yourself as you lift your hand to the lightswitch.

You both scream.

Jake sits on the other side of the door with duct tape slapped over his mouth. He’s covered in blood, muffled screams forcing against the tape to no avail. He squirms as he tries to break free of his bindings that keep him stuck to the chair. You try to look away, but he doesn’t like that.

“Look at him,” he says. A sob shakes you as you force your head back. “I got him just for you. I had to break his foot and his arm just to get him here.” You wipe the tears from your face. It’s becoming hard to see. “Don’t be scared, everything’s gonna be just fine.” His voice is a purr in your ear, but not in a way that’s particularly pleasant. Your gut twists uneasily.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Your boyfriend is not as good as you think.” He sounds incredibly upset. You actually hear him growl as he continues. “Think about it, puppet. He ignores you, he makes you feel like you’re crazy, he fucking uses you for sex like you’re some cheap whore. Do you even enjoy when he touches you? When he fucks you?”

You swallow thickly, refusing to answer him as you lift your hand to press against the glass. Jake stares at you, still struggling against his restraints with all the energy he has. You can hear his muffled cries through the door. You open your mouth to speak, struggling to find the words. “Please don’t hurt him,” your voice is weak when you say this.

“And why shouldn’t I?” he questions.

“Because I’m asking you to.” You close your eyes, trying to steady your breath. “If… If you really love me, you won’t hurt him. Please.”

He laughs. “Oh, puppet.” He seems to tsk when he says it. “I’m doing this for you.” His voice takes on a sudden softness that you refuse to admit provides the slightest amount of soothing. “I promise, once this is over, you’ll feel like a brand new you. You don’t need him. You don’t need this. You deserve so much more, so much better than a jockey piece of shit like him.”

You don’t know if your sobs have stopped coming because of his words or because of the fatigue that comes with it. You hope it’s the latter.

“And it’s because I love you that I’m letting you say goodbye.”

Your heart siezes in your chest. “No, no, please!” Your scream triggers Byrnn’s, and she’s pulling your arm to try to figure out what’s going on.

“You have five seconds.” You shout protests, banging on the window and shaking your head in an attempt to stop him, but he doesn't care. “Four, three, two–”

“Bye! Goodbye! Please!”

“Good girl.”

A figure cloaked in a shroud of darkness appears outside the window. It happens so quickly, you don't even have time to process it. He swoops out behind him, a knife glinting in the porch light. Screams fill the house when the knife goes in, and then out, and then in, and then out, and then in and out and in and out–

You grab Brynn’s hand, tearing her away from the window to run. You don’t think about it too much when you do. Brynn is stumbling behind you, having trouble seeing beyond her tears. If he’s outside, surely you can make it to the door fast enough to escape.

You’re quickly proven wrong when you’re stopped right at the threshold of the living room. It can’t be.

You stare right into the face of a ghost, stepping back slowly. He tilts his head slowly to the side, raising his hand and waving one of your kitchen knives from side to side.

“Now where do you think you're going?” He takes two slow, calculated steps toward the both of you. Brynn moves away as you stay planted in your spot. That same warped voice leaks from the mask.

Brynn tugs on your arm, pulling you toward the back door. When you look, the other Ghostface is gone. It's only when she yanks the door open that he jumps in front of you with a teasing “Boo!”

Your throat is scratched rough from your screams. Jake's blood covers his hands and up the length of his arms.

In your haste to get away, to fight, to do anything, you throw your fist out in an attempt to hit him. He catches your wrist with ease, and your stomach flips when he walks you back. He never lets go. You try to hit him again and again and again, to no avail. He turns you in his arms and pulls you to his chest. You feel the sticky, hot blood on your skin. You shout as you will the tears to come.

“Why?” you ramble incoherently. “Why did you have to kill him? Why did you—fuck!”

“Hey, now!” he exclaims, still laughing in your ear. The flat side of his bloodied knife taps your cheek, and you flinch. “You're so excited, and we haven't even gotten to the big surprise.”

You shake your head, struggling to get away from him. “I don't want it. Please, I don't want it.”

He leans down closer to your ear, to the crook of your neck. “Hey, hey. Shh,” he coos.

Your cries calm, turning to stuttering breaths as you stare at the other cloaked man in the room. You almost forget about Brynn.

“Please don't hurt me,” you mutter.

“Hurt you?” He scoffs, letting you go. He turns you around to see him, and you watch his head tilt down to his shoulder. “I would never hurt you, sweetheart.”

Your lips part, and you furrow your brow at his pet name. There's only one person in the world who calls you sweetheart. But the idea of it, of him…

“Why…” You step away. “Why did you call me that?”

He stands there for a moment, contemplating. Then he laughs, raising his gloved hands to his waist and shaking his head. “Well, fuck. Guess I outed myself, huh?” He turns his head to look past you, glancing at his duplicate through dark, empty eyes. “Guess the cat's outta the bag now.”

He reaches his hand to his mask, tucking his fingers beneath it before slowly peeling the mask like skin off his face.

There's an ache in your chest and a twist in your gut when brown eyes stare back at you, smiling, glinting with joy. The tears that slip down your face burn your cheeks like molten lava. Your mind is clouded with the haze of memories flashing in your mind. All the times you held his hand, the same hand that plunged a blade into your boyfriend's chest. All the times you laughed with the same voice now sore with screams. All the times you looked into his brown eyes with the same joyous shine he has in them now. You'd always thought they looked normal. You don't understand how you missed it, the glinting.

Your voice trembles as you struggle to speak, cracking on the apex of his name. “Eddie?”

“Hello, puppet.” He grins with a kind of mischief that takes on a different tone now.

You shake your head and struggle to find the words. “Why? Why would you– I thought– You–”

He pulls you back into him, flush against his chest with his arms around your body. You feel the shape of the blade pressing against your back and try not to move. “Shh, it's okay.” He strokes your back soothingly.

When you pull away you feel the blood he'd smeared on your cheek stick to his cloak. You look down at your clothes, now stained in red, and feel your heart thrumming frantically.

“Hey. C’mon,” the other says. You turn to face him when you hear him closer than you anticipated. You clamp a hand over your mouth when tousled brown hair falls in Steve's face. He runs a hand through his curls and smiles. “No one's gonna hurt you. You're the one we're tryna help here.”

Brynn startles at that, stepping back so quickly she stumbles. You move away from Eddie, backing up to the side so you stand between them and Brynn, so you can face them both and not feel so cornered.

You try to gather the strength to sound threatening, but you don't. You know you don't. “How is this helping me? I thought you were my fucking friends! You– You tricked me!”

“We tricked you?” Steve scoffs. “Honey, we're not the ones sneaking around behind your back.” A tiny smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. “Not really, anyway.”

You pause, your brows knitting together in confusion. “What–” You shake your head, “What do you mean?”

Eddie looks past you, his eyes locking with Brynn’s. They darken in a way that you've only ever seen once or twice before. A hardness takes over the expression on his face until you almost don't recognize the boy you're looking at.

“Go on, then, Brittany.” His voice nearly takes on a growl. There's no humor in his words, no joy. It creates a chill that rushes down your spine as he raises his knife toward her. “Tell her.”

You turn, looking at her from her place on the floor. “Tell me what?”

She slowly rises from the floor, her hands up in defense. “I don't know what they're talking about,” she says slowly. She begins to back into the kitchen, inching away from you as you advance, Steve behind you and Eddie at your side.

You know she's lying. You can hear it in her voice, and you can see it on her face. She's gotten better at it over the years, but she's never been good.

“Tell me what?”

Her eyes go wide at your accusation. Surely there's no way you're going to believe two murderers over her. “Don't listen to them!” She never blinks, she never looks away. Her gaze is sharp.

Eddie walks toward her, the tip of his blade taunting her as she moves away. Eddie’s voice is low and rough, and you’ve never heard him sound so…terrifying. “Tell her how you were letting Jacob plow you every time she looked away.”

“What?” It almost comes out as a whisper. You knew she’d been lying to you about something, but you didn’t know it was this. You wish you could have picked up clues from Jake, but unlike her, he’s a great liar, and you would believe him if he told you he was some long-lost prince of a fairytale kingdom.

But this… You’d hoped for better.

“They’re fucking lying!” she shouts. Her eyes never blink. “They just fucking killed Jake, and now you’re gonna let these fucking psychopaths–”

She’s cut off when a strange sound echoes in the room. You know what it is, you know who it must be. When your eyes fall to the source of the sound, Steve holds out a camera that you recognize from Jake’s room. “Look familiar?” she asks, offering it to you. You glance at Brynn and watch her face shift into something fearful once more. She mutters your name.

You grab the camera, sliding your hand through the band and watching the video playing on the little screen. Your face falls, fear and suspicion being stripped away to something solemn.

It’s taken from within Jake’s bedroom, the desk beneath his window. Your shoulders drop when you see them. Brynn’s on her knees, between his. You watch her head bob as she grips his thighs. You watch his fingers grab a hold of her hair. You listen to him groan, to her gag. You flex your jaw and flex your fingers.

You look up at her as the sounds continue to play, taunting you, mocking you. “You…” You let out a shaky sigh. Your voice is too soft and too calm. “He was cheating on me? With you?” She watches your lip twitch. Your eyes close when you hear the sound of his grunt as he curses, and you know he’s cumming down her lying throat. Her giggle follows soon after.

She shakes her head. “It wasn’t like that. We–” She bumps into the kitchen island, but she doesn’t blink. “We were drunk, and-and it happened so fast—it was only one time!”

“Go to the next video,” Steve says, his voice so close to your ear. You don’t flinch as you take in a slow breath and do as he says.

Your sigh shakes your chest. It feels like someone’s punched you in the chest as you see Brynn on her hands and knees, Jake’s hands on her waist, his hips smacking into her as they moan and grunt and curse. The date is different. In fact, the date is your birthday.

You swallow thickly, quickly passing the camera back to Steve as you bring a hand to your neck. You stare at the floor, unable to look at her as you close your eyes and beg Steve to turn it off. You can still hear them…laughing at you. What a stupid girl. A stupid girl who thinks we love her.

“Why…” You don’t finish your question, supposing that’s enough. “How could you do this to me?” Your voice trembles, and you can’t find it within you to care. She doesn’t say anything, she just keeps staring. Your voice gets a little stronger, a little louder. “You were supposed to be my friend. You were supposed to be my best friend.”

She licks her lips. “Look, I–”

“You were fucking him behind my back!” you shout, walking toward her again. Every step you take toward her, she takes back. “How long?”

“Listen–”

“Shut your mouth,” Steve snaps.

Eddie almost startles you when you hear him at your side. You feel the warmth of his presence against your shoulder, you hear his voice by your ear. “She betrayed you,” he whispers in your ear in a clear disgust, his voice a low hum. “Just like Jacob, she ignored you and made you think you were crazy. She fucked your boyfriend. She’s supposed to be your closest friend, and she hurt you like this.” He shakes his head. His breath is warm against the shell of your ear. “Doesn’t it just make you wanna hurt her?”

You blink blankly. “I… No, I don’t…” You sigh, “I don’t want��to hurt her.” You don’t sound so sure. You don’t feel so sure. And that scares you.

“Don’t you?” Steve wonders. You turn to look at him and the glare in his eyes. You hear Eddie huff when Steve wraps an arm around your midsection, pulling your side into his chest. “She's been lying to you this whole time. I mean, how do you know she wasn't just using you to be close to him, huh?”

She shakes her head. “That's not true. We were friends before–”

“Shut up!” you yell, your head snapping back to her as you shove Steve's arm from you. You can't keep it in, the anger is boiling in your chest and it feels like poison in your throat. You just have to get it out. “Don't say a goddamn word, you lying whore.”

You scare her into silence. The anger shifts into something sad, and you hate that your lips tremble.

Your voice, though quiet now, is rough when you speak. “You never spent time with me, you weren't there for me when I needed you. I told you about the letters, and you didn't believe me. You fucking—You betrayed me.”

“That’s right!” Eddie exclaims. His hand comes to cup the side of your neck, pulling your temple to his lips as he nods giddily. He presses his mouth to your skin, and you hate to admit that his kiss feels nice. “She did. She betrayed you and your trust, and she should pay for it. Shouldn't she, puppet?”

Brynn’s fear twists into pure disgust. “You’re fucking crazy–”

“See, she keeps saying that,” he says, raising the knife at her again. He keeps hold of you, murmuring in your ear like a demon on your shoulder. “But I’m the only person who’s had your back all this time. I’ve listened to your problems, I’ve helped you through them. I’ve been there for you.” He breathes in the scent of your hair. “Me and Steve, we did all this for you.”

Steve’s in your other ear, his hand crossing over your midsection once more. You’re stuck between them, boxed in by their warm bodies as they whisper in your ear. You make no move to stop them. “And didn’t she call you crazy, too?” He smiles, “You told her about Ed’s love letters, and they said you were delusional. You told them you were afraid, he called you a whiny bitch. You ran out of the house with a killer on the loose, and neither of them went after you.”

“But you’re not delusional, are you? You’re not a whiny bitch. You know what you are?” Eddie kisses your temple once more, “You’re just like us. You’re hurt, and you want to destroy the thing that hurt you.” The idea makes you warm, and you assume it’s the rage. “And she’s hurt you so bad, you could just…kill her, couldn’t you?”

“Fuck you!”

Her voice breaks you from their embrace. You all turn to look at her, watching her now confident with anger. Eddie and Steve take a step away, letting you go. They want to see what you’ll do.

“I fucking told you he was fucking crazy,” she spits. “We kept telling you there was something wrong with him, and you never fucking listened to us. And now? Now six people are fucking dead—Jake is fucking dead. And it’s all your fault–!”

A scream rises from your chest and into your throat, but it’s not the type of scream that reaches the top of your voice and screeches. It’s the kind of scream that stays in your throat. It’s rough and it’s guttural. You clench your fist and rush toward her with nothing but red in your sight.

You don’t even fully realize it when you hit her. It’s like you black out, letting go and dissolving yourself to your most basic instincts as you knock her to the floor. She shouts, and when you kick her in the side, she moans out loud in pain and fear. It only fuels you, fuels the heat in your fists, in your head, curling in your chest.

You wrestle her onto her back and straddle her waist, punching her again when she tries to protest. She screams and cries and the blood that comes from her mouth or the cuts on her face makes it worse. You keep punching her, but each punch isn’t enough to quell the scream in your throat. Your skin of your knuckles split, your fists become covered in your blood and hers.

Eddie and Steve are cheering you on, but Eddie’s voice is the loudest. He laughs and claps his hands, yelling, “That’s it! Yes, my good fuckin’ girl, make her pay for what she did to you.” The excitement and the anger keep mixing in his tone, and there’s so much of it that he can’t even control what he wants. “Make her pay for breaking your heart.”

You hit and hit and hit until you run out of strength to continue.

She lays there, her head swaying from side to side as she whimpers and coughs, unable to breathe. She looks bad, bloodied and bruised. But it’s still not enough. You sit there, gasping for air as you stare at her.

Something enters your peripheral, and when you see it, it shines. Eddie's gloved hand, still stained with Jake’s blood, wraps around your own. He lifts it to grasp the handle of his knife, squeezing tight to secure your grip. He lets go, and you hold on still, staring at the blade in quiet contemplation.

“Do it,” he whispers. He grabs your other hand, he wraps it around the first. “Do it.” He lets you go and steps back.

You look down at Brittany. Your best friend. Your enemy.

She shakes her head weakly. Her voice is scratchy, unintelligible. “No,” she whimpers, her words sticky. “No, please. Don’t–”

You don’t let her finish.

It takes a lot more effort than you thought it would. When you bring it down, it hardly goes as deep as you meant it. When you pull it back out, it takes a lot of core strength, you have to clench your teeth and flex your abdomen. You try again and again and again. It feels good. Fuck that, it feels amazing. You shove the blade into her chest and the blood stains your hands, and you seek out the feeling over and over.

You hadn’t expected it to be so quiet.

Eddie makes no noise, neither does Steve. Your grunts feel silent in your ear. Even the squelch of the knife tearing from flesh and meat and bone sounds like nothing. Your blood thrums in your ears, and your heart thumps in your chest. It’s a silent rush that reaches a pique, and once it’s met, you feel the strength and the rage and all the intense emotion pouring out of you like the crashing fall of water.

You gasp for breath as you sit there, and it’s the only sound you hear.

Your eyes find your hands still grasping the handle, soaked in crimson and dripping. You huff, staring at it. It’s all you can do, stare.

It hits you all at once as you let the blade clatter to the floor. It’s the only sound you hear. You rush off of her, looking down at your clothes, stained. Everything is stained, everything is red. Your heart is rushing, your breath is catching, your hands are dripping.

You look at her face, deformed from your fists, stained with more red. She stares at the ceiling. She never blinks.

“Wha–” You huff, looking at your hands and her face and her chest and your clothes and– “Wha-What did I do? What– I, no, I ca–” You drop your head to your hands and then shout when you feel sticky blood on your skin. “Oh, God, I–” You turn to Eddie, so overwhelmed that you can’t even cry. Your clothes feel too tight, and you can’t see straight. And the lights, and the floor. The fucking—the walls are too close. And– “You—Oh, my fucking G– I–” Your breaths turn into a broken, tearless sob. “Eddie– I… Fuck. Eddie, I c–” You’re getting too dizzy, and you start to feel sick. “E– Fuck, wha–”

Eddie scoops you up into his arms. You fight his embrace at first, but that just makes everything worse. He shushes you and pets your hair. He pulls you against his body and tries to calm you, so you cling with all the strength you have left. “Hey, shh, shh. It’s okay, sweetheart. Hey, baby, you’re okay. Shh, shh.”

Your breaths slow enough for the spinning to stop. You slump into his body when the tension leaves you. When Eddie hears your breaths even out and feels your weight in his arms, he pulls you away from him to see your face. His hand cups your face as his thumb strokes your cheek gently.

“You’re just like us now,” he whispers. “You’re not crazy, you’re free.” He brushes stray hairs from your forehead and brushes his knuckles along the underside of your jaw. “Free of Jason Carver, who called me a freak. Free of Cassidy Franklin, who threatened your job.”

Steve continues. “Free of Tommy H, who insulted you and treated me like shit.”

Eddie nods, seeming particularly proud. “Free of your cheating boyfriend, who didn’t give a fuck about you.”

“Free of your lying friend, who betrayed your trust.”

Eddie takes your face in his hands, watching you with eyes that never show you anything but affection. “You can be whoever you want to be. And we’ll always be here for you. I will always be here for you. I can be what you need.”

You swallow thickly, searching his eyes for a lie. But he’s never had a reason to truly lie to you. You’ve always been able to trust him. He’s always been there for you. All he’s ever done was to make you happy. Your lips part in a sigh. “You will?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I love you,” he says. His voice is brimming with his confession. His hands tighten just the slightest around your head as he pulls you closer. “You are everything to me. I would kill for you. I would die for you. I would die without you.”

Eddie leans in quickly, and you panic.

You turn your head, feeling his lips on your cheek. You use your arms to separate you, holding your fists to your chest and shaking your head. “N-No,” you mutter. It's not right.

“Shh,” he whispers, turning your face with gentle movements. “Everything's gonna be okay, puppet.”

He kisses you. You breathe into it, trying not to fall for the feeling of his lips pressing into yours, but finding it inevitable. You close your eyes and feel yourself melt. You flatten your hands against his chest, and then ball the fabric of his robe in your fists. When the slightest whimper slips between your lips, Eddie groans into your mouth and his kiss becomes less affectionate.

He bites your lip, moving one hand to the back of your neck and the other to wrap around your waist. You sigh, biting back and tugging on his shirt. When his hand wanders to your side, and then up to your chest, your lips go slack against his when he gropes your breast through your shirt.

It pulls you from the depth you’d gotten lost in. He slides his hand beneath your shirt, and the chilly air makes you shrink away from him. You let go of his shirt, pushing him away with a grunt. “No.”

“Hey,” he tries to soothe. “It’s okay.”

You shake your head. This is wrong. You should not be holding him, kissing him. You push him off of you, shoving him away as you rush to stand. You remember Steve when he steps forward. You continue to back away, you need to get away.

Eddie calls your name, but you only shake your head once more. He reaches for you. You scramble to your feet and run. They don’t chase you right away. Not when you make for the stairs because they’re blocking your exits. Not when you slam your bedroom door shut and lock it tight. Not when you open your bedroom window and stare down at the bottom, unsure of your ability to make the jump.

When you hear their footsteps on the stairs, you panic again. You keep the window open, rushing to the closet and closing the door behind you as you hide behind the clothes hung around you. You can see the letters on the floor, the rose, the doll.

“Open the door, baby,” Eddie’s voice comes, muffled from your spot in the closet. He knocks on the door three slow times. You close your eyes and cover your mouth and nose. You can feel yourself shaking, your lungs struggling to keep up with your attempt at silence.

“We’re not gonna hurt you,” Steve joins. “We pinky promise.”

“Is this a game?”

“Do you like playing games?”

“Do you wanna play with us?”

“Unlock the door, and we can play all night long.”

You hear the door knob jiggle. The faintest sound of the lock clicking makes your blood run cold, and you stop moving entirely upon hearing the door open.

Deep footsteps are heard as they step into the room, their heavy boots adding to your impending doom. Your gut twists, your lungs seize, your heart pounds in your chest. You’re silent as a mouse, better than that.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Eddie sings.

“There’s only so many places you can hide.”

You hear their boots stomp over to the window. Then there’s a pause. You stare wide-eyed in the darkness, seeing nothing but the doors and hearing everything outside of the sound of your blood rushing through your ears. “Come on, sweetheart, you know we’re gonna find you. And when we do, we’ll treat you right.” He sighs gently, his voice still sing-songy as he wonders aloud. “I wonder where she could be…”

His footfalls stop in front of the closet doors, and you feel the tension releasing from your body as you feel yourself giving up. The doors open in a slow, taunting manner, and the mask stares back at you with a tilted head.

“Boo.”

He grabs you, though his grip is not unkind. Eddie crowds you as he brings you to your bed, blocking your hands when you try to hit him, escaping your legs when you try to kick him. He shushes you again, though he’s still laughing.

“What’s the matter, puppet? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

He continues to wrestle with you until you feel the fight leaving you, ounce by ounce until you lay on the bed with limbs heavy with exhaustion. He pins your wrists at either side of your head, watching reluctant tears slip down the side of your face and disappear into your hairline.

You shake your head weakly. “Please don’t hurt me, Eddie.” Your voice is nearly a whisper.

He tilts his head. “I would never hurt you.” He leans down to whisper in your ear, and the fabric tickles the skin of your neck when it brushes you. “I just need you to know just how much I love you.”

You shiver, still shaking your head and trying to stifle the feelings in your body. It’s too much to focus on, too much to think about. “It’s not right,” you cry. “I killed Brynn. You killed Jake and Cassidy and–” You cut yourself off. “I just want it to be over.”

“It is over.” Eddie gathers your wrists into one hand, the other trailing down the length of your arm. You shudder and feel yourself trying to squirm away from him (you assume). “Everyone who hurt us is gone.” His hand presses into your side. “Anyone who would hurt us will be.” You sigh when his hand strokes your thigh. “We can be together, finally.” Your breath stutters when you feel his hand slip between your thighs, where you’ve pressed them tightly together. You bite down hard on your bottom lip when his hand cups your clothed cunt.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

His palm grinds into your mound, and you stifle your sigh as you squeeze your eyes shut. Steve’s voice fills your ears. “C’mon, honey,” he says, his voice almost as breathy as Eddie’s has become. “He just wants you to be happy.”

Your breath hitches when you feel him undoing your pants. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” His hand slips past the band of your panties, beneath the fabric that had been keeping him from you. Your lips part slightly when you feel the warm pad of his finger press against your clit. You squeeze your thighs tight. “I want you to be happy.”

You moan when he circles your clit, feeling the uneasy pleasure begin to tease your nerves. He stays there for a moment before letting his finger part your folds. You whine against your tight lips when you feel another hand find your thigh. Steve spreads them apart, and you hate how exposed you feel. You hate how little you care about being exposed to them.

Eddie’s hand in your panties, his finger teasing the opening of your pussy. It swirls in your mind and makes it hard to focus on resisting. It feels good, and you hate that it feels good. It’s a sick, twisted pleasure that makes you feel uneasy but oh, so good.

“Safe,” he coos, pressing his thick finger into the warmth of your cunt with a sigh. Your mouth falls open with every inch he puts inside of you. Your legs spread on their own accord, and you open your eyes as you stare down the empty eyes of a ghost.

He strokes his finger in and out of you, a steady pace that sets every nerve ending on fire. You find your hips rolling into his hand, searching for more and then squirming away and then searching him out once more. When your back arches as he curls his finger, his voice sounds almost strained as he watches you. “Loved.”

You moan as he picks up the pace, the steady stroke of his finger becoming an insistent thrust of two long digits inside of you. You bite your lip and moans as he fucks you with his fingers, curling and thrusting and making you feel the pleasure he knows you deserve.

When you catch sight of Steve, it’s the first time you notice the camera. The red light stares you down as he films the way you wet Eddie’s hand with your arousal, the way you arch your back with each movement, the way your mouth falls open and breathy moans come out of you.

“That’s it, baby. Watch the camera,” Steve grunts.

Eddie laughs breathily. “Such a good girl,” he rasps. “A good, greedy girl. A greedy girl who wants to cum on my fingers. Huh? You gonna cum on my fingers, greedy girl?”

You tug at your wrists, and he lets one of them go just to see what you'll do. When you grip his forearm, holding onto him tight as you keen into him, he groans.

“Don't…” It's so quiet, he doesn't catch it. Eddie leans in and hums, coaxing you to speak again as you look at him with hazy eyes. “Don't stop.”

Eddie has no choice but to stop. When you whine, he almost loses his head. His eyes never tear away from your own after he pulls the mask off his head. You watch as he begins to strip, dropping his robes, and then his shirt and his pants. He takes off everything he's got on until he's standing naked in front of you.

You flush at the sight of him in all his glory. The lines of his muscles are soft and entrancing. Black ink decorates his pale skin, and your breath catches as you stare at all the illustrations. God, he's perfect. His smooth skin, his wild hair, the curve of his long cock stiff and flushed.

“You like what you see?” Eddie chuckles deeply. “What about Steve, hm?”

You tear your eyes away from him to see the boy in question. You watch as he follows suit, stripping to nothing but skin. You stare at the patch of hair on his chest, the shape of his abs (soft, but not as soft as Eddie's), the thickness of his cock heavy between his legs.

“Don't stare too long, puppet,” Eddie mutters. “I'll let him have a taste of you, but you're mine.”

You swallow thickly, staring at Eddie, his darkened brown eyes—though offering a different kind of clarity now—still the same ones that comforted you when you were upset about your boyfriend. The same eyes you saw when he gave you a ride home in the middle of the night. The same eyes that want you and only you.

Your timid fingers reach up and brush the skin of his cheek. “Eddie,” you whisper. He gazes back at you. You lick your lips, letting out a sigh and deciding in that moment. He loves you more than anyone else ever could.

“I'm yours,” you agree. “I'm yours.”

Eddie kisses you like he's afraid to lose you again. He kisses you like he thinks you might run away again. But why run away from someone who's only ever protected you? Why run away from someone who has freed you from those who have only hurt you? Why run away from someone who loves you more than you could possibly know?

You wrap your hand around the back of his head and keep him close, tasting his lips against yours, along with the faint metallic taste of blood on your tongue. You moan into his mouth, seeking more of him as you bite down on his lip and grasp his tongue between your teeth.

You let him go, your breaths shallow and bated. “Make me yours,” you whisper.

Eddie attacks your lips, dipping his head into the crook of your neck and marking you up with teeth and tongue. He red and purples your skin, claiming you as his own.

You roll your body into his, seeking out the pleasure he intends to give. His hands find your clothes, both of them gripping the top of your shirt. You yelp when he rips it down the middle, tearing your shirt in two until you shed it like skin. He pulls your pants off of your body with no love or remorse for the fabric, crueler with your panties and bra as he rips them apart.

Steve snatches your underwear up, bringing them to his nose and letting his eyes flutter shut as he inhales your sweet scent. “Fuck,” he sighs thickly. “She's amazing.”

“You're telling me,” Eddie says, his tongue laving along your nipple. You arch your back up into him, reveling in the feeling of his hot mouth on your skin.

Steve kneels on the bed, filming you with one hand stroking his cock. Eddie's lips find the spot below your belly button, kissing with teeth before dipping low once more.

Your hand grips the sheets beneath you when Eddie's mouth finds your cunt. His lips wrap around you as he laps at your folds. His tongue dips inside of your hole, licking into you with a deep moan that sends shivers down your spine.

Your fingers find his hair, tangling themselves in his messy locks and tugging hard. In return, he claws at your thighs and at the meat of your ass with dull nails, pulling you as close as he can get you as he breathes in your scent and devours you like he's been starved for a thousand years.

The heat and the pleasure and the pain mix together into this unintelligible mess. You allow yourself to be lost to the sensations, to drown in the darkness that surrounds you.

It's sort of poetic.

All your life, all you have ever done was for the pleasure and the benefit of everyone around you. You smiled when you were told to smile, you've cared for people who have never cared for you. You've let your parents leave you, you've let your best friend forget about you, you've let your boyfriend use your mouth and your body for his pleasure and leave you to rot.

But Eddie is different. He doesn’t care. You taint yourself with the blood of a friend, and he kisses your reddened lips, he holds your crimson-soaked hands, he licks the slick from your dripping cunt with the fervor of a mad man. Eddie whispers his love and devotion in your ear and tells you he will always love you.

Steve's mouth on yours is unexpected, but you take it in stride. Your nose bumps his chin as you suck on his top lip. His roaming hand strokes your side, finding your chest and squeezing your tit in his greedy palm. You moan, reveling in the attention—Eddie’s tongue lapping between your legs, Steve’s tongue licking at your chest. You card your fingers through their hair. You grasp and grip and tug. When they moan, you tug again. When you moan, they suck and hold you tighter.

When Eddie pulls away from his spot between your thighs, he shoves Steve’s head to the side so he can see your face. “Hey,” he mutters, though the hostility is half-hearted. He sits back, focusing on keeping the camera on you once more.

Eddie’s fingers return to the seam of your cunt, filling you and making you gasp. “Does it feel good, puppet?” he asks. “Getting all this attention from us? Do you like when I eat out this greedy little pussy? Do you like when Steve sucks on your tits?”

You can’t think with the rhythm of his fingers inside of you. They thrust and curl, and you moan as you find yourself grinding your hips into his palm. “Please,” you murmur, struggling to find the words to properly beg him.

“She’s so sweet, isn’t she?” Steve asks, still reaching for your breasts to flick the nipple. You hold onto Eddie’s arm, trying to keep him where he’s at as you continue to grind into his palm.

“She’s greedy. That’s what she is,” he smiles. “You wanna cum, sweetheart? Do you want to come on my hands?” You nod, feeling him pumping his fingers in and out of you. “You look so nice like this, moaning on my hands, covered in blood. Like a fucking angel.”

You’d almost forgotten about the blood. By now, with everything you’ve just gone through, with your choice to be with Eddie, with your decision to stop caring and let Eddie love you, you find that you don’t mind much. Eddie loves you, and if he loves you covered in blood as well, then you’ll gladly let it smear.

Eddie sighs longingly when you moan, arching your back and riding his palm. “That’s it, baby. Use my hand to get off. There you go,” he rambles, thrusting and curling his fingers to get you closer to where he wants you to be.

“Eddie,” you moan. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum.” He gets back to his knees, still fingering you as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. He licks and laps and does all that he can to feel you unravel by his hands, by his lips, by his touch.

Steve strokes his cock as he watches, letting heavy sighs fall past his lips. “Fuck, she looks so fuckin’ pretty.” He gropes you, flicking your nipple and massaging your tit and loving the way you gasp. “Keep going just like that, Ed. She's almost there.”

Your hips jerk up into his mouth. Eddie leans forward and holds you down, becoming more and more insistent in tasting you. He's completely consumed by your perfect thighs at either side of his head, clamping down around him as you reach the apex of your pleasure.

When you cum, your hands tug at his hair and your moan is more reminiscent of a sob as he licks you through it. “Oh, fuck,” you gasp. You moan his name and ride his face, and almost ignore the fact that he needs to breathe.

When your body stops trembling and your moans turn to heavy breaths, he pulls away from you. His chin glistens with your arousal, and he licks his pink, swollen lips with a thick sigh.

You're surprised when Eddie's hand smacks your thigh. A slight shout escapes your throat, and you wince at the pain that spreads along your body. He soothes the skin with his palm, gripping the flesh once more before delivering another smack. You stifle your cry this time.

“Does that hurt, baby?” he asks, his tone not as sympathetic. You nod. “Do you want me to stop?”

You open your eyes and shake your head. “No.”

His smile is nothing if not malicious. “Perfect.” He bends down, and his kiss is all-consuming. For a moment, you struggle to keep up, but finding your footing isn't difficult. When his hand wraps around the back of your head, you nip his tongue. When he grunts, you tilt your head. When he pulls away, you tug on his lip before letting it slap against his bottom teeth.

He smiles, letting out a long breath. “Your lips are so soft.” He kisses you quickly. “I wonder how they'd feel wrapped around my dick.”

You whine, sitting up and grabbing his shirt in your balled fist. You feel Steve behind you, pressing his body into your back to sandwich you between them. His lips brush your ear, you can tell he's struggling not to kiss you.

Eddie pulls back, diving his face into your shoulder and biting into your flesh. You turn your head toward Steve, feeling his lips at the corner of your mouth.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” you whisper to Steve, who ignores your question and dips his head into your neck. You feel their lips and teeth and tongue against your skin. 

You close your eyes, breathing through thinly parted lips as they taste your skin, having their fill of you. Steve's head switches to the other side, bumping Eddie's gently. He looks up, staring at Steve. You see him offer a grin, leaning in and biting his lip.

Eddie shoves Steve back, his actions playful but definite. Steve looks back at him with a grin and hooded eyes. You get shoved next, laying flat on your back. Eddie steps back, walking around the bed until he's bending down to kiss you again, just as Steve had done to you before.

“Open your mouth,” he mutters against your lips. You open your eyes to look at him, letting your mouth fall open just as he told you. You want him to feel as good as he made you.

Eddie takes his cock in his hand, stroking it a couple times before placing his tip at the plush of your lips. You dart your tongue out to lick at the slit of his cock, eliciting the slightest wince. One of his hands covers the length of your throat, the other cradles the back of your head. Eddie pushes his cock past your lips and into the warmth of your mouth, sighing at the feeling as you close your lips around him.

“Fuck, that’s nice,” he groans, sliding in and out of your mouth in slow strokes.

“I bet it is,” Steve mutters. He watches, envy soaked into his skin as he holds the camera still.

The bed dips when Steve gets on it. Eddie’s head is thrown back in bliss as he thrusts his cock slowly into your mouth, going deeper and deeper with each thrust until he can feel the length of him stretching your throat. He can tell you’ve had practice because you don’t immediately gag. He pushes his cock so far into your mouth that your chin presses against his pelvis.

Steve straddles you, bending down to your chest and wetting your chest with his tongue. He sucks on your nipples, bites the flesh of your tits. He paints the valley of your breasts with saliva before moving himself further up your body and pressing your tits together.

You gag on Eddie's cock when Steve's slides between the split of your tits. His moan is deep and broken as he throws his head back. “Fuck,” he breathes. “God, she's perfect.”

You press your hand to Eddie's waist, pushing him back until his dick slips from the warmth of your mouth. You turn your head to the side to cough, catching your breath as your mind races with the strange sensation of Steve thrusting between your tits.

When Eddie thinks you've gotten enough air, he tilts your head back again to push himself back inside. Your throat is tight around his cock. It squeezes around his length, and you struggle to take him as your lungs seize and your gagging stalls.

He curses, feeling the way your pretty throat bulges. Steve grabs your hands, guiding you to hold your tits together so he can grab the camera from its propped position on the bed.

“Got a good shot?” Eddie asks, his laughter mixing with a grunt.

“Fuckin’ perfect shot,” he says. “Shit, she might finish me like that.”

Precum leaks from his aching tip, spilling onto your chest, your neck. When Eddie pulls out to let you breathe, you gasp and cough once more, letting your breathy moans fill the air and imagining how ruined you must look covered in blood and precum with Steve fucking your tits and Eddie fucking your throat.

God, it's a sinful sight, and you just hope they'll let you watch the video when this is all over.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Eddie when he opens your mouth again to shove his cock back into it.

Steve sounds absolutely dreadful. The camera is unstill as he struggles to keep it together, his hips moving too fast. He's sure he's going to blow soon if he doesn't let up, but how is he supposed to when you're pressing your breasts so tightly together around his cock.

You don't see it, but you hear the way their lips briefly smack together over the sound of your gags and your glistening skin.

“F-fuck,” Eddie grunts, pressing his cock down your throat and keeping it there for just a moment before he pulls out. You gasp for breath as he grips the base of his cock, staving off his release with a rough sigh.

He hears the way Steve's sounds have begun to rise, and his chuckle is almost evil as he pulls your hands away to let them fall away from him. Steve huffs, grabbing your tits himself, but ultimately being pushed off of you by his “friend”.

Steve, pent up and frustrated as he feels his release declining into something bitter, hits the bed with a heavy palm and lets himself fall forward onto your chest. He sits there for a moment, balling his fist and trying not to punch something.

“Fuck, I was so close.” He shouts at Eddie, shoving him away. “Why’d you do that? She's mine, too!”

Eddie moves over to him, crowding his space with that same malicious grin on his face. “I said you could fuck her tits, but you can't go inside or cum on her.”

“Stupid rules. I'm not gonna cum in her,” he argued, shoving him again.

Eddie feeds off of it, and Steve can tell. “My girl, my rules.” A third shoves satiates Steve enough to stand down, shaking his head and muttering about fairness.

Eddie wraps his hand around the back of his neck and brings him in close. “You can cum on her next time,” he promises.

Steve thinks about it, looking Eddie's face up and down in thoughtful silence. When his eyes find yours, he smiles a little and nods. “Fine.”

Eddie pats his cheek before turning back to you. “Sorry, baby. Where were we?”

On one hand, you should be annoyed that Eddie is trying to pass you around like a whore. On the other, it feels nice to be desired like this. They're fighting over you, and you're flattered. A shiver runs down your spine at the aspect of letting Steve use your body, and then paint it in his gratitude. You're excited for next time…

You move to stand, walking toward him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You bring him down to kiss you again, moaning into his mouth and making sure he can taste himself on your lips just as much as you can taste yourself on his.

When Eddie gets excited, he shows you by shoving you back by your chest. You stare at him as he walks forward, turning you around harshly with your back pinned to his front. He whispers in your ear, “I'm gonna fuck you better than Jake ever could.”

A wave rushes down your spine, and you shudder. “Please,” you whisper. “I need you, Eddie.”

His sigh is shaky. His hands tighten around your arms, pulling you impossibly closer. “Want me to use this little pussy? Fuck it so hard, it's puffy and sore?”

You curse under your breath, nodding as you struggle to keep it together. “Yes, Eddie. Please. I need you.”

He pushes you down onto the bed, bending you over by the waist and feeling the round of your ass with greedy hands.

Steve snatches up the camera from the bed once more, holding it still and making sure to capture Eddie's hand slapping down against your ass. You yelp, your body jerking at the sensations.

Eddie doesn't bother soothing over the spot this time. He just hits you again and again and again. He hits you with uncaring hands until your bottom is sore and flushed with color. “Fuck, I love this pretty little ass.” He grabs it harshly, hitting you again.

The tears at your eyes can only be described as pathetic. You grip the sheets, your face messy with your tears.

Eddie wraps his arm around your neck and pulls you up harshly. “You still need me? Hm?” His voice is heavy, and he sounds almost upset. “You still want me fuck this little cunt of yours?”

He brings his other hand to your stomach and rakes his dull fingers across. You clench your jaw and close your eyes at the pain that spreads across your body. You flex your stomach when his nails reach the other side of your chest, your breaths picking up once he finishes.

“You still want me?” He asks darkly. “Do you still love me?”

After a moment, the stinging mixes into something strange and you nearly feel yourself going limp in his arms. He holds you up, his face still tucked in your neck.

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly. “I love you, Eddie. There's nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.”

Eddie's heavy breaths fill the silence between you. “Yeah?”

You nod, your voice quieter but no less genuine. “Yes. Please fuck me. Cum in me and make me yours.”

Eddie curses as he pushes you back down onto the bed. He spreads your legs wide making sure your pussy is ready for him as he thrust a finger into the wet heat.

Eddie's cock sits deep inside of you. He holds you tightly by your waist as he thrusts so far that you think you can feel him in your fucking throat.

You grip the sheets, moaning and sighing as you try to adjust to him. Eddie's hands press against your back and push you more into the bed as he pulls out slowly. When he thrusts back in, it makes a loud smacking sound that makes you wet and dripping.

Soon, Eddie's thrusts are cruel. He fucks you in fast, rough strokes of his cock. You moan in whiny breaths, your voice high and heavy. The tears are returning, and you can't keep them at bay.

“That’s it,” Steve rasps. “Fuck her hard, Eddie. Make her cry for the camera.”

The feeling of Eddie's cock pushing against a deep spot within you has your eyes rolling. You melt into the bed and moan every time his hips snap into you. He fucks you ruthlessly and without remorse. You cry out and reach for something to hold.

You ramble nonsensically, telling him how good he feels, how good you feel. You tell him not to stop, and you tell him that you love him.

Steve tugs on his cock, desperately fisting himself in search of the same pleasure he'd had in his hands before Eddie took it away from him. He continues to encourage Eddie, who continues to fuck you. You let yourself succumb to the pleasure of Eddie's thrusts and the occasional smack that spread like wildfire through your skin. You let yourself succumb to Steve's words, filling your mind with dirty phrases and nothing more.

Your limbs are like jelly, and you decide that it feels better not to think as you let yourself be fucked.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Doin’ so good f’me.” “God, that's it. Take it like a little whore.” “Take it, take it, take it.” “You like being fucked like a slut for Eddie, hm?”

Their words mix together into a messy blurb in your head. You let it garble up, because at the end of the day, it feels good and it's white noise that makes you squelch around his cock.

You nearly cry when Eddie pulls out of you. It's a sudden thing that takes you by surprise and tears your pleasure away. He has to stop you with his hand over your mouth as he turns you over onto your back.

“Lemme see your pretty face while I fuckin’ ruin you.” He spreads your lower lips, thrusting his fingers inside of you once more and feeling how wet you are as you moan. “No one else is gonna be able to touch you after this. You know that right? No one is going to be able to fuck you as good as us. Isn't that right, Stevie?”

He kisses your temple. “That's right,” he huffs. “This pussy is ours. You understand?”

You nod, keening for their touch. “Yes. Yes, I understand.” You push your chest up to show it off, looking straight down the camera as Steve shoves it in your face. “Ruin me, please.”

It's hard not to concede after that.

Eddie thrusts inside of you once more, and you're so wet that he slips in with ease. Your eyes flutter, and you blindly reach out for Steve before grasping his cock in your hand. Steve lets you jerk him off, tugging and twisting, squeezing his cock in your tiny palm and letting his head fall back when you do.

Eddie holds your waist tight as he fucks you, his cruelty as blissful punch inside of you. The pad of his thumb circles your clit, encouraging your pleasure as you moan and whimper for this man who would do anything for you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by moans and rough grunts and ramblings. A light sheen of sweat coats your body as the heat fills you inside and out.

Eddie bends down, tucking his face in your neck as his nose traces the shell of your ear. “Do you feel good, puppet?” You nod, your vision hazy and your mind numb. “You promise?”

Again you nod. “Yeah.”

A rough thrust makes his whole body flex, makes you cry into his ear. “Good,“ he says. “I love you, and I'm gonna make sure this perfect fucking cunt knows it. I'm gonna be so good to you, sweetheart. You know that?”

You nod, wrapping your legs around him as you continue to tug at Steve's cock. One of his hands wraps around yours, tightening and keeping you steady as he huffs.

“Love you,” you mumble, your mind so jumbled that the words are almost incoherent. “‘M yours.”

He moans, his thrusts becoming shorter and harder. You can feel yourself getting closer with every circle of his thumb.

“All mine,” he grunts.

Steve listens to the pattern of your breaths, the lilts of your moans. He smiles and strokes a little faster. “Just like that, Eddie. She's gonna cum.”

“I know she is,” he laughs. “Perfect little slut’s gonna cum on my cock like the whore she is. She's gonna moan, and she's gonna scream my fuckin’ name. Aren't you, baby?”

You nod, going on about something in the haze of pleasure.

When Eddie's deep grunts turn into weaker sounding moans, you know he's close. When your belly flexes and he can feel you clamping around him, Eddie knows you're close. When Steve jerks your hand too quickly back and forth along the head of him, you know he's close.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” Eddie moans, feeling his coming.

You do as you're told, and you do as you want. You go blind with pleasure, and your back arches as your release comes crashing down around you. You gasp and cry out Eddie's name on a broken sob as the pleasure wrecks you in the most beautiful way.

As you flutter around his cock, clenching and gushing, Eddie loses his head. He fist clenches in the sheets, still circling your clit in lazy circles as he fucks his cock deep inside of you. His groans are weak as he lets his mouth hang open, taking in the smell of you as he spills deep inside of your wet heat.

Steve, envious of your closeness, follows after, imagining the shape of your cunt, how'd you squeeze him. His warmth spills out over the sheets and into the palm of your hand, his sounds joining with yours until it's a symphony of heavy breaths and gasping moans and lazy strokes of skin on skin.

The air is thick and charged for a while, all of you refusing to slow down as you continue to drag this out for as long as you can. When you physically can't prolong it anymore, you feel your limbs grow heavy and your body releases all the tension left inside. You let yourself go limp on the sheets, still filled by Eddie as you continue to give Steve slow, lazy strokes.

Eddie brushes hair from your face, pulling back enough to kiss you sweetly. When you can see his face, you smile at the sight of his sweetness returning. It's the Eddie you're used to, the Eddie you first loved. You're getting to love all of these versions of himself.

Eddie kisses all over your face, seemingly unphased by the taste of nearly dried blood. “I love you,” he whispers into your skin with every kiss until he's kissed every last inch of you, covering you with his love. “How do you feel, baby?”

You smile lazily at him, holding his face in your hands. “Good.”

“Yeah?” he asks, brushing hair from your face. He glances at Steve, gesturing for him to join you. He goes to put the camera away to do just that. “You still love me?” he wonders.

You smile, nodding again. “Yes, Eddie,” you whisper. “I'll always love you.”

He grins wide, his dark eyes shining with adoration. “That's good.”

When Steve joins, he bumps your nose with his. “We're gonna take care of you,” he whispers. “But first, we have to make sure we don't get caught.”

Eddie sighs, unraveling himself from you as he stands up straighter. He pulls you to sit up on the bed.

You take each of their hands. “What do we do?”

Eddie cups your cheek. “First, you need to get dressed again.”

“Do I clean up?” you wonder, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of the drying blood on your face.

“Yeah, but not too much,” Steve says. Your heart thuds in your chest. “We needa get more blood on you.”

“Can you do that for us?” Eddie asks, his eyes soft. “For me?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he smiles.

“Me and Eddie will handle everything else.” Steve kisses your forehead before leaving you to by yourself. Eddie lingers only for a moment, staring at your face in quiet adoration before kissing you and following after Steve.

You stand on shaky legs, disappearing into your bathroom and flicking on the light. You're almost surprised by what you see.

Red covers your face, along with tear streaks on your cheeks and saliva on your chin. You're covered in blood and spit and sweat. You look terrible. But it's the clearest you've seen yourself in a very long time.

For once, you don't feel so artificial. Strangely, in this moment, with love from a boy who truly loves you and protection from two people who want nothing but the best for you, you feel like yourself. It feels good not to hide.

You wipe off the blood, you wipe off the sweat, you clean yourself up until you don't look so guilty. When you open your closet, you see the doll lying on the floor. You move to your knees picking it up and looking over it once more. Guilt seeps into your veins as you stare at the stitches of her face.

The door opens after a while, but you don't turn to look. You know who it is.

“You okay?”

Eddie walks farther into the room, coming to kneel beside you with an arm around your body. You stroke the cheek of his gift, sighing gently.

“I'm sorry I treated her so badly.”

Eddie considers the versatility of your apology. The doll is meant to represent you, after all. He pulls you in, kissing your temple. “It's okay,” he promises. “You didn't understand yet, but now you do. Now everything's perfect.”

You look up at him with a soft smile. “Did you make her yourself?”

He nods gently, easing the doll from your hands to look over his handiwork. “Yeah. Not great work but–”

You reclaim her, holding her to your chest. “She's perfect. Thank you.”

He smiles wide, all teeth and glistening sweetness. It only gets worse when you kiss him. God, he's been waiting so long for this moment.

“I love you, Eddie,” you whisper against his lips.

He shudders at your confession. “Promise?”

You nod, echoing his words from just the night before. “On my life.”

He sighs dreamily. “I love you, too.” Then his pauses, and his face falls into something a little more solemn. He takes your hand, squeezing it tight with a sigh.

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

He nods gently. “I'm gonna have to hurt you.”

You smile a bit, and it's contagious. “How badly?”

Eddie beams, standing to his feet and holding out his hand. You take it with pleasure, and he helps you dress.

He leads you back downstairs, where Steve is breaking things around the living room. Brynn is still in the same spot as before, entirely undisturbed as she stares at the ceiling.

This time, when you see her, you don't feel upset. You don't get sad or scared. You don't gasp or shrink away. Strangely, you feel proud of what you've done. She can no longer lie to you. She no longer has reason to. You're both free of it, for the rest of your lives, one much shorter than the other.

You look up at Eddie and smile, and he's not sure if he can love you anymore than he already does.

“What do we do?” you ask as Steve joins you. They both walk you through it, the sequence. The story.

Brynn came by to apologize for yesterday. Jake was behaving strangely, but she was too afraid to stand up for you. When Jake shows up, he kills Brynn first because he's a witness. When he reveals himself to you as a killer, you reject him, and it sends him into a blind rage where he tries to kill you.

Steve and Eddie come to pick you up. Eddie catches Jake in the act and tries to stop him. He gets knocked out, but not before getting a couple hits on him first, weakening him enough for you to have to upperhand.

You try to escape, but you only make it to the patio. This is where you kill him in self-defense.

Steve comes in when Eddie's been gone too long. He couldn't hear over the music in the van. He sees what's happened and calls 911, wrapping everything in a nice little bow.

Eddie takes your hand in his, stroking his thumbs over the back of them with gentle touches. “Have it make it look believable, okay? I have to hit you. Is that okay, sweetheart?”

You don’t hesitate when you nod. You trust me. He only wants what’s best. “Yes. Do what you have to do.” He gives you a look, one last chance to decline. When you meet him with no fear, he nods.

The first slap really fucking hurts. Your head whips to the side, and you taste blood in your mouth as your teeth cut into your cheeks. The sensations begin as an invading heat before twisting into pain, and then into something not as bad.

You turn back to him, licking the blood from your lips as a look he’s never seen before crosses his eyes. You stare at him for a moment, and then feel your lips tugging into a grin that matches the mischief he’s reflected in his own tonight. “Do it again,” you whisper.

Eddie actually laughs, giddy with the look in your eyes. He soothes your cheek with a loving hand, kissing you quickly before striking you once more. You stumble this time, bending down and holding your face in your hands to try to soothe the aching. Eddie goes to you quickly, pulling you to him to see if you’re okay. You huff, nodding and looking up at him again. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You wipe at your lip, seeing blood and darting your tongue out to taste it. “It actually feels kind of good���after a second.” He shakes his head and mutters something about you potentially being actually crazy. You just laugh weakly.

He helps you stand, taking your face in his hands. He sighs, shaking his head gently before continuing. “We're gonna have to stab you,” Eddie says. “Not too much, just enough to get the point across.”

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Okay.”

“We also have to get some of your blood all over this room.” Steve gestures in the general area.

“Okay.”

“Still trust me?” Eddie asks.

“Yes.”

Steve hands Eddie a pair of gloves. He slips them on and takes the knife firmly in his grip.

“Is it gonna hurt a lot?”

Eddie positions the end of if at your side, his hands steady as he looks at you. “Not at first. But it will.”

“How bad?”

“A lot.”

You sigh, nodding. “I'm ready.”

“Look me in the eyes,” Eddie instructs. You do as you're told, watching him as you breathe in deep, long breaths to keep from hyperventilating.

He's right. The pain isn't immediate, but it's hot and this guttural sound falls out of you at the feeling. Eddie pulls the knife out, and you feel the hot blood rushing from the wound.

Eddie and Steve are quick to work, trying to keep you calm and keep your focus on them so you don't feel too much of the pain too quickly. They bring you outside where Jake is dressed in the robes, the mask was discarded somewhere in the room. They've already torn up the fabric to match the stab wounds.

You find that the sight of him like this makes you happy. He can't hurt you anymore. And that's all you wanted.

Eddie lays you on the ground next to Jake's body. “I'm gonna stab you again.”

“Do it,” you tell him, your breathing labored. “I trust you.”

He smiles, glimmering with pride. “Can't wait to see the scars.” He stabs you again in the middle of your pained laugh. You hold onto his loved hands, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to steady your breath.

He pulls it out, and the sensation is so strange. He kisses you. Steve busies himself with coating your hands with the pool of Jake's blood.

“We'll be here the whole time,” Eddie promises. He seems to be bracing himself for something, his jaw clenched and his face determined.

“Are you o–”

Steve thrusts the knife into Eddie's side, ripping it out with a grunt. Eddie bends over, holding the spot and straining to be calm. “Fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart.” The knife clatters by you.

While he's down, he kisses your cheek again before being helped up by Steve. “Everything's gonna work out.” They go back inside, and you lay back against the concrete as your unfocused eyes stare at the sky.

You look over at Jake, staring at the stars with you. You think he looks better like this, sweeter. You look back to the stars and smile, letting your eyes close as darkness teases your peripheral.

Once they’re all gone, we will be together…

~

You’re woken up by someone yelling. The bright, white lights of the hospital room glare in your face as you open your eyes. You move to sit up, groaning as you wrap an arm around the bandages wrapped tightly around your waist.

You glance over at Eddie, still sitting by your bed as he had been before. He’s slumped over, holding his side. They’ve given you both morphine for the pain. He was only stabbed once, but he looks a lot worse than you. Steve had to beat the shit out of him. His face is bruised and cut, and he’s got a few more along the skin you can see. (It looks kind of hot.)

“Oh, my God!”

Robin rushes into the room first, going straight to your bedside and helping you sit up. The rest of the group floods in, Steve leading them inside.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asks quickly, looking at the state of you and wincing at the way your bruises have turned out.

Jonathan looks relatively sober, worry taking over every crease in his face. “What the hell happened?”

“I guess you do have plot armor,” Argyle says in awe. “Because, in all honesty, you shoulda died, man.”

Nancy scolds him with a smack to the shoulder. He over-exaggerates the strike, seemingly betrayed by such a thing. Eddie reaches over and grabs your hand, and you smile at him before looking at everyone around you.

It feels good to have so much attention. You notice the flowers in Nancy’s hands, to join the million others in the room, along with all the gift baskets and the balloons and cards. Everyone has been so kind, and the attention is going straight to your head.

“I’m okay, guys,” you say, glancing at Steve. “I promise.”

Robin chuckles lightly, though she still sounds worried. “Who knew he was that crazy?” She scoops up your free hand to hold it, nudging Steve in his side. “You know, it’s said that some sports, like football, can make people more aggressive. I mean, I know Jake didn’t play football, but I’m sure the sport isn’t that important in this case.” She pauses. “I guess that’s why so many of them are bullies.”

“I played basketball,” Steve points out.

She looks at him and shrugs. “And, if I recall, Steven, you were also a bully for a while. Didn’t Jonathan be the shit out of you a while back?”

Jonathan finds humor in this, but it’s all in good fun. They made up a long time ago. Steve just rolls his eyes. You laugh a little, but it hurts. You wince and cover your wounds, where you’ve been stitched up and patched. “Thanks, Robin,” you say in reference to her facts.

“It’s a good thing they got there in time, huh?” Nancy asks, adding her gift to your collection.

Eddie chuckles a little, looking at you. “Good thing I didn’t let you stay home alone all night.”

You grant him a look, trying to mask the humor there into a different kind to avoid suspicion. “Har, har,” you mutter. “Yes. I’m very fortunate.”

Argyle scratches his head. “So are you guys, like, together now?”

“Argyle!” Jonathan exclaims softly.

He shrugs. “I’m just asking, man. Look at ‘em! All holding hands and shit with the goo-goo eyes.” He waves his hand in dismissal.

Eddie squeezes your hand, and you all share a very brief look between the three of you. Your little secret. You look at Jonathan. “It’s okay.” You smile, “I think it’s safe to say that Eddie and I will be together a lot more often from now on.”

Robin sort makes this lovey-dovey kind of sigh, tilting her head with a smile. “You know, I always liked you two together.”

You grin, clasping his hand in both of yours and remembering the night before. Eddie’s fingers inside of you, Steve’s lips at your breasts. The three of you, stained with blood and sweat. What a night!

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Me, too.”

Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @queermaxwooo @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog @thegr8estpuff @lover-of-books-and-tea @xxhanililoxx @quickslvxrr Eddie the Banished taglist: @iiiiluvhobie @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @queermaxwooo @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom @hiscrimsonangel

[bl1ssfulbaby]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ MASTERLIST ♫ (chapters to be added when published)

♫ chapter one: room for one more ♫ chapter two: here today ♫ chapter three: turn the lights back on ♫ chapter four: show me yours, i'll show you mine ♫ chapter five: float like a butterfly ♫ chapter six: the eye of the tiger ♫ chapter seven: offense and defense ♫ chapter eight: mind your own business ♫ chapter nine: rest for the weary ♫ chapter ten: this foolish lover's game ♫ chapter eleven: undo, undone ♫ chapter twelve: breath of fresh air ♫ chapter thirteen: street smarts

[bl1ssfulbaby]

Idk what happened to my post but re post ig🤷‍♀️

Let’s be honest, Five will always be beautiful even in disaster.

The example

[bl1ssfulbaby]

TUA SEASON 4 SPOILERS‼️

DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THIS SEASON‼️

Ermmm season 4 of The Umbrella Academy HAS to be a joke… Lila and Five? Five would NEVER. I’m so disappointed in the way it ended. I genuinely feel like season 1 and 2 are the best seasons. They actually had a correlation. Season 3 wasn’t that bad but season 4? Omg i will never stop talking about this till the day i die. The way the season ended suckeddd like why couldn’t it be a happy ending☹️

The writers could have approached this season differently. Turning Five into a home wrecker and absolutely massacred him as a character is insane. The trailer had me really excited but after watching the first episode i knew it was gonna be worse than season 3. Five really broke character w the whole Lila sitch. It’s upsetting what the writers did to both Five and Lila and it’s not fair to Diego. I really set my expectations too high. The 8 marigold flowers that appeared at the end was cute and all but why didn’t they get to have a happy ending? We were robbed of a great opportunity for the writers to redeem themselves after season 3. It’s all Ben’s fault.

Sorry about the topic hopping, when i write something there is generally no structure at all. Anyways i’m done ranting (for now)

Well guess who’s back to rant again!! Let’s look at it this way. If Five had said no to finding Jennifer then they wouldn’t have gotten the box w the marigold. If they didn’t get the marigold then Ben wouldn’t have given it to them. If Ben didn’t give them the marigold there would be no end of the world. Everyone literally said no to finding Jennifer except for Five.

[bl1ssfulbaby]

Five Hargreeves: Hard Feelings masterpost

Aged up smutty smut. This series is updated weekly with a break of one week between parts. Please comment to be added to the taglist!

PART ONE

You're Five's latest assassination target, but things don't go to plan and now he wants you as his fuckbuddy. Funny how what we want and what we need are rarely in line.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five- Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

PART TWO

As your life begins to grow around Five's, his attitude becomes a little sinister. When does protection become suffocation and when does taking matters into your own hands become betrayal?

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

PART THREE

Nothing's simple when you're in a relationship with Five Hargreeves. When a destructive temporal anomaly erupts, Five is convinced another permutation of himself is to blame. Could your loyalties be tested in a way unique to him?

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen

PART FOUR

You can't avoid it any longer: Five has to meet your parents. It goes more wrong than you could possibly imagine, spiralling to bring up secrets he'd rather stay buried.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven/Epilogue

PART FIVE (Posting)

Despite Five's best efforts, your daughter can't do math to save her life...but she doesn't see why that should stop her from time traveling. When the mother of all teenage tantrums causes time itself to fracture, Five has to travel back to 1831 to repair the damage. But will he be able to cope with what he finds there?

Prologue - Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen

Too Long; Don't wanna read? How about some oneshots on my oneshot masterlist or some musings on my headcanon masterlist?

[bl1ssfulbaby]

Since the 4th season of Umbrella Academy is coming out soon i full on expect some new fics!!! Pls and thank you!

[bl1ssfulbaby]

not sure if this author allows re-post i do apologize and i am more than okay to remove the re-post. i’ve been thinking about this specific post for a few weeks. this was the first every post i read on this app. scrolled through all my liked posts to find this. i def don’t want to lose is again lol. absolutely, hands down, my fav one-shot💗

Following the Herd // dark!cult!Eddie x reader

summary: Eddie Munson has never been anything but sweet and caring to you. He had always made sure you were alright and safe and always helped you with anything you asked for. So now, that he needed you, how could you possibly refuse?

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING TO READ THIS FIC AND IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THE SOUND OF THEM, DO NOT READ IT. if you do and still have any complaints about the content that has been tagged, that's on you. <3

word count: 14k

warnings the occult and cult stuff. blood. ritual sacrifices. inflicting non-lasting injury on self/others. subliminal indoctrination. Manipulation and taking advantage of the naive and innocent reader. Eddie is protective, possessive and controlling. has issues. mention of character death [the Creels]. mention of drinking, smoking and drugs.

Explicit Content! 18+ only. Minors DNI! fem reader. PIV sex. unprotected sex (big no-no). heavy s/d dynamic. thigh riding. extended orgasm denial. overstimulation. innocence and corruption kink + virginity. knife kink (kinda). spitting. oral [f receiving]. debatable dacryphilia. blindfold. Eddie's handcuffs. praise. "whore" x1.

If I missed out on any warnings, I severely apologise. Please let me know and I will add them

"Just as every cop is a criminal

And all the sinners saints

As heads is tails

Just call me Lucifer

'Cause I'm in need of some restraint"

-the Rolling Stones, Sympathy for the Devil

The thing one must understand about Eddie Munson is that he never meant for anything bad to happen. On the contrary, he had nothing but good intentions for you, for anyone. He was a kind, deeply caring person who wanted nothing but the best for others. It was not his fault that people didn't understand him. 

So what? He didn't dress like all the other conservative assholes in town. He was different and dared to speak up for himself; since when is that a crime? He had his beliefs to fight for, just like anyone else; why would that make him the bad guy? People have started wars over way less, and yet, Eddie had been the one cast out from society, branded as a monster. He, who had never done anything wrong in his life. 

You knew like no other how wrong these misconceptions about him were, having experienced his kindness first-hand. It was only a year ago, but it could have been a lifetime. It was almost a coincidence how he found you at that party over spring break. There were so many people, and the music was so loud, that it was easy to get disorientated. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of liquor, making you sick. He had helped you then. It was Eddie who took your hand and led you outside into the fresh and cold night air. 

'You alright?' He looked deep into your eyes with a soft smile, to which you could only smile sheepishly. Maybe that is how he had thought of his cute nickname for you? 'What's a cute little lamb like you doing out here, all alone, anyway?' 

'I'm here with my friends. Just… seemed to have misplaced them somewhere.' You had laughed, not wanting to show how scary that had actually been. The music from inside the house was still blasting, beating against your chest. Eddie nodded in understanding. 

'You've got to be careful, sweetheart, don't want to lose yourself to this chaos.' He brushed some hair out of your face; your skin was burning up from how warm it had been in the house. You only noticed it when compared to the cold touch of his hand. His eyes were still on you, focused, the deep dark of his irises pulling you in. 'Haven't been drinking, have we?' He smiled innocently, clearly teasing, intensifying the burning heat in your cheeks. 

'No.' You could say it earnestly, but the reasons behind your honesty felt a bit embarrassing. You almost didn't want to admit that you had never had a drink before and were still apprehensive about alcohol. He would surely think it's silly, to be 18 and never even have had a beer or a shot. There were so many things you still hadn't done, in fact, that he would probably see as normal.

But his smile grew bigger, and he almost sounded proud when he continued with the conversation: 'Good. Good. You don't want that stuff in you.' 

'I don't?' You blinked as he shook his head. Anyone else would have told you to suck it up, but not him.

'No, all it will do is ruin that pretty mind of yours. And we don't want that, do we?' His voice made your heart flutter in excitement, which proved everyone else's suspicions wrong. Because no evil could make you feel that good, could it? 

And it never really stopped. Neither the feeling you felt when you were around him nor how he treated you. Eddie had a very protective and caring nature. He needed to be sure you were safe and alright. At school, he would ensure you ate your lunch, had a good night's sleep the night before, and weren't too cold or too warm. He invited you to hang out a lot– an offer you could hardly refuse. He walked you home and would help you with your homework or take you back to his trailer, where he would play you songs on his guitar. The music he listened to sure was different from what you were used to. Heavy, gritty and dark, but all of that talk that it was Satan's music was ridiculous. Anyone who would listen to a few bars of it could know that. And the artistry of these musicians was also undeniable. 

Eddie had never expected you to enjoy his kind of music as much as you did, but it brought the biggest smile to his face, which, in turn, made you that much happier. You couldn't get enough of his happiness and could do anything for it. It would be the fair thing to do, considering everything Eddie's done for you... 

When your parents found out you had started hanging out with a boy like Eddie Munson, they were, quite honestly, scared. They did not want his likes to influence you, making you stray down to a dark and dangerous lifestyle. 

But it couldn't be further away from the truth. 

Eddie ensured you stayed away from things such as alcohol or drugs, even cigarettes. He didn't even want you talking about it, didn't want you anywhere near the stuff. And even though he used all of it, he made sure to never do it around you. He would hide away the weed and the liquor bottles in his trailer, and he'd control his need to smoke until you had left. 

'It's too late for me, I'm beyond saving, but that doesn't mean you have to go down that path too.' He would say, stroking your hair, if you ever asked why he was so adamant about keeping you away from these vices. 'Can't have my little lamb be ruined like that.' And he would kiss your forehead, ring-clad hand upon your cheek. His rips were usually chapped, and fingers roughly calloused, but you didn't mind. His touch still felt divine. 

Eddie protected you from more than just these substances. He knew you were not the most experienced in living life, which was something he appreciated and praised, but the shock on his face when you had told him you had never even had your first kiss… the idea of that made his head spin. It excited him more than he had ever thought imaginable, but it also scared him. Since he had found that out about you, you had noticed how much more protective he had gotten over you around certain people. It was cute, how possessive he got when other guys looked at you. 

'Believe me, baby, they're no good for you.' He would hold you close, turning your back to whoever had been trying to catch your eye. 'Guys like that… they only have one thing on their mind.' 

'What's that?' you asked, but he never gave you a direct answer. It was nothing his little lamb should be worried about. You were his pure, innocent girl, and he couldn't have the evils of others corrupt you. He wanted what's best for you. 

He really did make you feel safe and comfortable, in a way no one had ever done before. You felt like you could tell him anything, no matter how personal or embarrassing. Things you wouldn't dare tell any other guy. 

'Uhm, Eddie,' you mumbled one time. You were in your bedroom, sitting on the ground with your backs against your bed. Eddie had you sitting between his legs. His hands around your middle, rubbing small circles on the bare piece of skin between where your shirt and trousers met. The sensation it left on you spread across your whole body in sparks, particularly between your legs, making it very hard to focus on the book you had been trying to read.

'Something wrong?' He asked, head propped up on your shoulder as he spoke, so his words came out with his warm breath against your neck, not helping your situation. 

'I uh–' you were flustered; the only thing you could think about was how his fingers were creeping over your stomach, inching your waistband. 'Nevermind.' 

'No, no, sweetheart. Now you got to tell me.' 

'It's a bit warm in here, don't you think?' You breathed out slowly. 

'Not really.' He shrugged. 'But you can open a window if you want.' 

You took the opportunity to get away from his touch. Not that you minded it or that it wasn't pleasant. On the contrary, you had to escape it because of how good it felt. You had never felt like this before. Hot and bothered, all over. It wasn't something you were used to or even knew how to handle. 

'Are you sure, you're alright?' Eddie asked once you came back to sit in his lap. You hummed out a response, but he could tell it wasn't all true. 'C'mon, it's me. You can tell me, can't you?' Of course, you could. You could tell Eddie anything, that much you knew. 

'I just– feel a bit hot. That's all.' It still all felt a bit silly. A bit difficult to put into words.

'Hot?' He asked for a clarification, to which you only nodded your head. You looked down at your lap, embarrassed even though you knew there was nothing to be ashamed about. Eddie wrapped his arms around you, but his hands were low, pressing at the hem of your trousers, and it wasn't making matters any better. 

'What are you doing?' You gasped when you felt him slip past the material of your shorts, fingers sliding over your panties slowly. You arched your back in anticipation; it was an automatic, subconscious reaction. Still, it felt wrong, though. He had always told you how that part of you was sacred, off limits for others. 

Others. Yes. 

Not him. 

'I just need to check something.' His voice was a mere hush as his fingertips brushed over your core, just the thin layer of cotton keeping up the barrier between you. But he wouldn't actually touch you there. Not yet. He couldn't ruin you like that. It would be inconsiderate and selfish, and that's not who Eddie was. He just wanted what's best for you.

'You are burning up, baby,' he clicked his tongue when his fingers added some pressure to the touch. Your back stiffened, and you held your breath, unsure what to do. 'I wish I could help, but I can't right now.' Of course, you would never actually protest anything he did, knowing he had his valid reasons, but you wished he hadn't pulled away. 

'Why not?' your voice was shaky. 

'It's not the right time,' he pressed you back against his chest, taking in your sweet scent. Your shampoo, your perfume, even the ink of the pen you had been writing with for the past few hours, and your arousal– all mixed into something that could only be described as you. 

'Right time?' you weren't sure what he meant by that, but Eddie talked a lot about funny things that you didn't understand. Mostly, it was about the game he played at school with his friends, Dungeons and Dragons. He had tried to explain it to you several times, and most of it was easy enough to grasp, but he could talk on about it for ages, and it was almost as if he was pulling you into a trance of attention. Words would lose their meaning as you were too focused on Eddie himself. The sound of his voice and his movements– he always used his hands to emphasise what he said. And maybe it was for the better you didn't understand everything that was happening in the club. 

Not that it mattered, anyway. It was nothing his little lamb should be worried about.

'Yeah, got to wait a bit, sweetheart. Patience is a virtue, isn't that what they always say? And believe me, if you wait a bit longer, it will be so worth it.' 

'How long?' you already didn't want to wait. His featherlight touch had been enough to ignite a fire in you. But, unfortunately, it wasn't enough to subside whatever feeling was gnawing at you there. If anything, the memory of his touch only made it worse. You needed more. 

'Not too long. I'll let you know when it's time, ok?' He started rubbing his hand over your arm. 'But you got to promise me one thing.' 

'Of course.' Anything for Eddie. He knew what was best. 

'Do not touch yourself there, ok? It might be difficult because you might not feel much better without it, but it will feel so wonderful in the end. I promise.' He made plenty of these kinds of promises and had held up to them every single time. That was another reason you trusted him; everyone else was simply wrong in their perceptions. An evil person would not keep to their promises as Eddie did. 

Eddie cared

Deeply

About you. 

So you listened to what he asked of you, nearly blindly. 

The feeling inside of you grew much to your frustration, but you kept your promise to Eddie. The days went on rather slowly, not helping your problem, and neither did Eddie. His touches seemed to linger more than they used to. He was always at your side, keeping you close to him; that didn't change that much. But he would let his hands wander over your body. 

Perhaps he was nervous about something, and the way he coped was to draw invisible shapes all over your body when he had his arms wrapped around you. He'd mumble to himself, little nonsense things you couldn't make out. He also got a bit forgetful; at lunchtime, he would forget to save you a seat, leading you to have to sit in his lap. Not that you minded. But what was a bit frustrating was how antsy he had gotten, letting his leg bouncing up and down. (What was he so nervous about?) Other times you wouldn't have minded, but how his jeans grazed over your sensitive and already frustrated core made you want to cry out. 

'Eddie, could you maybe stop that? Please?' You looked up at him, trying to get rid of the lump in your throat. 

'Sorry, baby,' He stopped, but the friction was just replaced by the hand he had put on your thigh. So many people were around you, all chatting and enjoying their free time out of class, yet there was only him for you. His big brown eyes sucked you into a place where it was just the two of you. So you weren't even embarrassed when he asked you: 'have are you feeling? Been a good little lamb for me?' 

'Yes.' As if on cue, you couldn't help but rub your legs together, needing some kind of stimulus to keep you away from that burning feeling between your legs. It had been going on for days, only getting stronger, and you could do nothing about it. 

Your action didn't escape Eddie's vision, and he was quick to pull your legs apart. However, his hand remained sturdily between them. 

'Haven't been touching yourself?' He wasn't whispering or trying not to be heard, but no one was paying attention really anyway. But even if they had, you didn't care. 

'No. Of course not.' He would ask you the same question each day, and each day you could happily respond. Even if every time it got harder and harder to do. 'But… Eddie–' 

'Hmm?' he hummed, pushing some hair out of your face with the hand that had not settled over the warm gap between your thighs.

'I feel like it's just getting worse,' your voice was almost lost in the ocean of others, but he heard you, and he smiled softly as you continued. 'I don't know how much longer–' but that is where he cut you off. 

'I know, baby. I know. But you're not ready yet, and we don't want all of this to go to waste, do we?' He looked you in the eyes until you shook your head in agreement; what you agreed to, however, was a bit vague. 'But it's not much longer anymore, and then just think of how good it will feel. Your reward will be grand.' 

'Reward?' He had never even said anything about a reward. 

'Oh, of course. My little lamb deserves a prize for behaving this well.' He squeezed you into a tight hug, pulling you in. You could feel his thumb press against your sensitive bud again for just a second, but you pushed aside the urge for more. He propped you up, helping you sit up better in his lap, but this again only made you feel his hand on you more prominently. His lips were nearly against your jaw when he spoke up again. 'How about you come over to my place later, and I'll try to help you with your problem, hmm? A… little taste of what's to come?' 

'Are you sure?' You didn't want him to do anything that could end up hurting either of you. If he said, you weren't ready… 

'Yeah, I can't have you walking around like this, all flustered. It's making all the other guys stare.' 

'What?' This made you stiffen up a bit. Why were they all staring at you? Could they tell, see even, how enkindled you were? You hadn't thought so. 

'Shh, it's alright. I'll take care of them. Don't you worry.' He would make sure you were safe, that much you knew. 'Meet me at the car later. I'll drive us home.' The bell for the next class would ring soon, and you wouldn't see Eddie until after school ended. Those were always the hardest times of the day, besides maybe when you were lying in bed alone, wishing he was with you to help you fall asleep and make that ache between your legs finally disappear. 

The classes were almost impossible for you to get through, as all you could think of was Eddie. Minutes were passing by so slowly, that you wanted to scream. Was no one else upset about how time just did not seem to move forward? That could not be possible. But, then again, you were the only one irking to get out of there to meet Eddie in the parking lot. 

You practically jump into his arms. The wind blew in your face, bringing his dark locks along and tickling your neck. He smelled like incense and his musky cologne. Someone like him should have something more bitter about him, you had thought at be beginning of your friendship, but Eddie was sweet. Not just in his actions, but in everything else around him. Because even with that smokey scent, mixed with his cologne, there was still a sweetness around him that you could not identify. It pulled you in, the familiarity of it, and yet you could never quite place it in your mind as to what it was. 

Eddie's hand never left your body as he drove you to the trailer park. You loved when he drove his car, but it was also frustrating that his hand was all he could give you. His eyes were, of course, entirely concentrated on the road ahead, and you missed them. 

Fortunately, the drive wasn't too long, and before you knew it, he led you out to his trailer, into the back of it, where his room was. It was messy, like most days, and there were things strewn about all over the place, which Eddie tried to sort out as he went along. He picked something up that looked like a long glass vase from next to his bed and put it in his closet. 

'What was that?' you asked curiously as he sat down on the bed. You were still standing by the door. 

'That? Oh, nothing, baby. Just c'mere.' He held out his hand for you to take once you had made your way over to him. You were ready to sit down, but Eddie pressed the palm of his other hand over your stomach, keeping you up. 'Hmm, no. Wait up.' He took both your hands in his, kissing your knuckles. 'Before we start, I need you to listen, really carefully, to me. I got to know you understand.' 

Eddie rarely spoke in such a serious manner, so it made you a bit nervous. He held your hands tightly, and you stood between his spread legs. He looked up at you, almost with pleading eyes, as if he didn't know that you were already listening to him intently, taking in each word he gave you desperately, never wanting him to stop giving you his attention or time.  

'I'm listening, Eddie, always,' you smiled, and he hugged out a little laugh. 

'This is just really important to me,' he chuckled lightly again, 'I want to make you feel good, sweetheart, but I can't make that feeling that is bothering you go away just yet. It shouldn't go away just yet, because you're not ready, we're not ready… but we can do something to help with it; for now, does that sound alright?' 

'Yes.' Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as he kissed your knuckles again. 

'Good, come sit here,' he tapped onto his right thigh, and you sat down, but apparently not in the way he had meant for you to do, as he laughed. 'No, baby. Like this. Here.' He shuffled a bit back onto the bed and made you sit with your legs on either side of his, locking him in between you. He put his hand on your hip, pushing you into him. The material of your jeans pressed into you, releasing some of the tension that had been building up in you over the past few days. Then, with his guidance, you started moving your hips over his leg. 

'Feels good, doesn't it?' Eddie asked, and you nodded your head quickly. 'Yeah, and it will only feel better the longer you keep doing it. Go a bit faster– that's it.' 

'It– oh my- aah,' you gasped out at this foreign sensation that rushed through your body. 'Thank you,' the words came out with a heavy breath of air as you found your rhythm.

'You're very welcome, sweetheart. You've been doing so well for me, haven't you? Deserve a little treat.' Your faces were nearly at the same level with you on his lap, and his mouth ghosted over yours. You could feel it there, not even an inch apart, but he couldn't– no matter how much he wanted to kiss your perfect lips, they would remain untouched for now. But it wouldn't be long anymore. Soon, he would make all this wait worthwhile. 

'Keep going as long as you want, baby,' the sight of you pleasuring yourself on his thigh made him short circuit, but he had to keep his mind clear. 

'It feels–' you didn't know how to describe the feeling that started to overcome you. You were tensing up again. Suddenly the release you felt from this friction didn't feel as satisfying anymore. It was urging you on to keep going, to tense that tight feeling in you until it snapped, but it was getting worse. Finally, you had to squeeze your eyes shut. 'Eddie!' 

'Woah, Woah, Woah.' He halted your hips tightly. 'Stop.' 

'What-' you were confused, not sure what had happened. The tight feeling in your gut loosened, but the satisfaction you had felt also reclined. 

'You were close, weren't you?' He asked, and you weren't entirely sure what he meant by "close", but somehow, on a deeper level, you knew that that is what you had felt, and so nodded a bit meekly. Eddie nodded along in understanding. 'See, you're not ready for that yet, baby. So if you feel it again, you got to tell me and stop, got it? If you feel that tightness coming, do not keep going. It can be too much for you right now, I don't want you to ger hurt.'

'I get it,' a lump formed in your throat again. 

'Alright. Do you want to do it again?' He squeezed your hips, and you bit your lip. You did want to keep going, as it did feel amazing when you could release some of that tension your body had built up. Eddie just wanted to help you; it wasn't his fault that he couldn't get rid of this hollow feeling inside you. He did everything he could to make you feel as good as possible. He let you writhe over his leg for an eternity, replaying the cycle of your pleasure, letting you inch toward that unattainable high. Every time you felt the knot in your stomach, you would gasp out his name, and he would hold you still. It was torture you brought upon yourself to keep going over and over again, but it felt so good. It didn't matter that you could never actually get it to completion. That initial feeling of bliss compensated for the pain of unfulfillment. 

'You're so good for me. My sweet little lamb, always listens so well.' Even if there was nothing to inherently pleasure Eddie, he still felt fantastic. Seeing you like this made him feel like never before, and to see you obey his requests as you did… it was pure euphoria. 

Tears were stinging your eyes, but he was quick to brush them away, right at the corners of your eyes. You could not possibly go on much longer. Your grip on his shoulder weakened, and your hips started jutting forward haphazardly, exhausted.

'Eddie,' you gasped out a final time; you didn't even have energy left in you to reach that edge anymore. Your body shut down as you fell forward into Eddie. He fell back, holding on to you as his back hit the mattress. 

'Did so good, baby. So good.' He held you tightly as you caught your breath. You were shaking, so he grabbed the covers and pulled them over you. 

'I– thank you.' You nuzzled deeper into his hold. No words were exchanged for a while. His arms stayed wrapped around you, caressing your back gently as the seconds on the clock ticked by. 

'How are you feeling?' He eventually asked, whispering, in case you had fallen asleep on top of him. But you answered, voice weak and tired: 

'I'm alright.' Everything was still spinning a bit; you couldn't quite tell up from down. The only thing grounding you was Eddie. He started to draw more random shapes over your back, mumbling nothings to himself, and you were ready to doze off. Peace was coming over you. Then his voice turned up a bit louder as he spoke directly to you.

'I'm so proud of you.' It was still a whisper, but his voice vibrated through his throat. 

'Thank you, Eddie.' 

'Mmm, did so good, you know what?' He kissed your forehead. 'How about we go to the mall tomorrow. Get you something nice?' 

Your head shot up in the excitement, and you looked into his eyes. 'Is– that my reward?' 

'No, I just want to spoil you,' he chuckled, petting your hair flat, 'Your reward will be so much better. Just you wait.' He rolled over to his side, taking you along so you'd fall onto the mattress beside him. 'Want me to take you home?' He asked, and you had nodded yes, and maybe had even said it, but your eyelids were so heavy, and you were so tired, that soon sleep came over you, and you had never felt quite as peaceful as you had in his arms. 

Eddie not once thought of letting you go. He did what he had to do to keep you close and safe. 

His pure and innocent little lamb. 

All his. 

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

The next day, he did indeed take you shopping. It was a lovely day full of sunshine, and he held your hand as you walked past stores. Even if you hadn't realised it, he already had something in mind he wanted to get you, and it just so happened to be at one store you frequented. 

He watched you go through the racks of clothing and smiled anytime he caught your eye. He had to pull you back. Otherwise, you would have missed the one thing he had wanted you to see. 

'How about this one?' He picked a dress up from the hanger. It was a long and flowy white summer dress. You furrowed your brows, not having expected that to be his choice of outfit for you. It was neither his nor your style, yet he handed it to you with plenty of enthusiasm. 

'Are you sure?' You asked, watching him nod his head adamantly. 

'You'll look gorgeous, I can already tell.' he pressed the dress against you, looking at how it would look on you. 'Wanna go and try it on?' 

'Yeah, of course,' you smiled, and the next thing you knew, Eddie was opening up the door to a dressing room for you. He hung the dress on a hook next to the mirror and closed the door behind him. He said he would be right there if you needed anything, and you knew it was true. He would be sitting right there in one of the fuzzy chairs, waiting for you to come out and spin around for him. 

But unfortunately, the zipper in the back of the dress was not as easy to pull up as you thought, so you called out his name. Not a second later, Eddie popped his head inside the little room, eyes closed for your decency. 

'It's alright, Eds,' you giggled, 'you can look. I just can't get the zipper up.' 

'Ah, well, let me,' he came up to you, and his hands were on the small of your back, holding the two sides of the dress together so he could pull the zipper up. It was cold against your skin, and Eddie moved extremely slowly, not wanting to accidentally snag the fabric or get your hair caught in it. He pulled it all the way up and smoothed out the dress at your sides, not that you thought it had been that wrinkled. You had been facing the mirror, so he put his head on your shoulder to look along with you. 

'Absolutely beautiful.' He whispered, imitating the confined intimacy of the dressing room. Your cheeks heated up at the compliment, but also because you did actually feel beautiful wearing the dress. It fitted perfectly, wrapping around your body at every angle. It was light, comfortable, soft… just the white colour felt slightly off for you. Eddie noticed this apprehension in your face. 'What's wrong, sweetheart?'

'I'm just not so sure about white. It doesn't really feel like me, does it?' 

'Thought you might want to try something new. And just look how good it looks on you.' Then, with a finger under your chin, he made you look in the mirror again, 'An angel.' 

'Oh, Eddie,' you swung around to hug him. 'Thank you.' you mumbled the words against his chest. 

'Anything for you, baby.' His hand moved up and down over your back. 

After the dress shopping, the two of you walked around, with no real goal or destination in mind. The presence of each other was more than enough. But as the day went on, you couldn't help but feel down. Eddie had done so much for you over time, especially in the recent days; you wanted to repay him somehow. Show him that you cared for him just as much as he cared about you. Did he even know that you would do anything for him? You hoped so. 

You kept on thanking him as the day went on, which only made him laugh. The message had been quite clear after the first three times, and now it was becoming almost excessive. But he could never complain either, loving how much you appreciated him, but enough was enough. Surely. 

'I just wish I could do something in return.' 

'You really don't need to.' He cupped your face in the palm of his hand. 

'But I want to.' You persisted. 'There must be something I could do for you.' 

'Not that I can think of, but if anything comes up, I will let you know.' And that was that. You didn't want to press on the matter; why nag on a little thing like that, ruin what would be a lovely day? So, you went and had coffee at a café on Main Street, where Eddie again demanded to pay the bill, and then he drove you back home. Only when the car stopped in front of your driveway did you realise that this had been the longest time you had ever spent with Eddie: Almost an entire day. And it had also been one of the best days ever. Not because of how he had spoiled you– you couldn't care less about that stuff– but because you had not once stopped smiling. With him, you felt like you were on cloud nine, seventh heaven, paradise, and you never wanted it to stop. 

'What are you doing tomorrow?' you asked hopefully. It would be a Sunday then, and like most Sundays, you would have nothing to do. Eddie tapped the steering wheel.

'I got some things to take care of. Nothing too exciting.' Perhaps he saw your deflated expression. 'We'll hang out another time, yeah? I'll see you at school.' If you had been two different people, you would have leaned in and kissed goodbye, but instead, Eddie cupped your face again and tapped your cheek lightly with his hand. You did lean into his touch, not wanting it to leave you, but it always did at some point. 

'I'll miss you.' You pouted, which he mimicked. 

'And I'll miss you too, but this thing– it's really important. I can't miss it, and it will most likely take me the whole day–' 

'Why don't I help you?' You interrupted as the idea jumped to your mind. 'Then we can still spend time together and maybe you might even finish sooner.' 

'Oh, you don't want to–' 

'But I do,' you persisted. This was your chance. You could finally prove to Eddie how much he meant to you. 

'Are you sure?' Eddie raised his brow inquisitively. You nodded your head once but very clearly, indicating your standpoint. He couldn't get rid of you even if he tried. He knew it too, as seen through the deep sigh he took, but he was smiling. Your persistence was adorable. 

'Ok, fine. Do you know where the Creel House is?' 

'The creepy old boarded-up building?' Yeah, you knew the Creel House. Everyone in town did. Everyone had heard the story of what had happened there all those years ago, and it still made you feel uncomfortable to think about it. 

'I'll see you there at 5, ok? Wear the pretty dress we got today, too. I can't get enough of you in it.' And this time, he did lean in to kiss your cheek. Or, almost your cheek. It had been where he had intended for his lips to touch you, but it had only missed your own lips by less than an inch. The kiss was also just like all the other formalities. It probably lasted less than a second but left you wanting more. That warm feeling in your body resurfaced, much to your dismay. After yesterday, you had hoped it would stay hidden a bit longer, but apparently, one tiny featherlight kiss on the apple of your cheek was enough for it to come back up. 

'Who knows,' Eddie took your hand, 'maybe tomorrow will be the day, too.' 

'You mean–' you looked up at him with wide eyes. 

'We'll see. Now go, sweetheart.' He left you thinking about it for the entire night. Were you finally ready? Would this unbearable ache in your pit finally disappear? You hoped so. You were jittery with excitement about the next day. You could barely sleep, even though you knew Eddie wouldn't appreciate that (he always needed you to be well rested). And then the morning came, and you couldn't get a bite of your breakfast down your throat as you jumped in your seat from anticipation. You knew it was silly, but after all this time, you finally got a chance to show Eddie everything. And you had waited for weeks to touch yourself, and it was as if your body could tell that the waiting time was almost over. 

It was almost over; you told yourself as you made your way to the house. You were too early; you knew that, but better too early than too late. Maybe Eddie would already be there, and then… that is when you realised you actually had no idea what you were coming into the house for. What did he want you to do there? 

A harsh wind blew, pulling at the hem of your dress, which you had to hold not to let the street see your backside. The steps to the porch creaked under your footsteps, and the door you knew was once covered in wooden boards was now broken open. The beautiful stained-glass window was broken into shards, with a large hole in the middle– exactly where the rose used to bloom daily. 

'Hello?' You called out as you stepped inside. The temperature immediately seemed to drop, and the air had a moist hint, thick with dust flying around you. Footsteps were coming from upstairs. 

'Baby?' It was Eddie, and the sound of his voice immediately made all your worries go away.

'Yes! It's me!' You wanted to tread the stairs, a large and eccentric staircase, but Eddie showed up at the top of it. His hair was fastened up with his black bandana. You had imagined he would appreciate your early arrival, but a grimace covered his face instead. 

'You're early. I told you 5.' The old clock in the back of the hallway still clicked away and pointed to ten minutes to five, so you weren't that early. 

'I'm sorry. I walked faster than I expected.' 

'It's alright, just– just wait here. I'm almost ready.' Oh, was he setting something up for you? A surprise? Your reward? It brought back all these fluttery feelings in your stomach. 

You could hear Eddie shuffling around the upper floor, right above you. He was walking up and down the room, carrying things around. You wanted to go up and help him, but since he had told you to wait– you waited. Five minutes went by, ten, fifteen, and you were getting restless at the bottom of these tall stairs. With each creak in the floorboards, you hoped Eddie would appear again. 

That only happened a bit later, when you glanced up and saw him walk out of a dark room. He grinned down at you, and your body screamed to run up those stairs, but again, you waited for him to let you. 

'C'mere, I want to show you something.' And that is how you eagerly made your way upstairs finally. Eddie waited at the top step and watched how your dress flowed with your movements. Truly angelic, if such things existed. Holding you by the hand, he led you into the room he had just come out of. 

All the large windows were plastered shut, covered with wooden planks or plastic tarps, and while that should have made the room pitch black, you could still see everything inside clearly. That is because Eddie had set up candles all over the surfaces near the large bed that stood in the middle of the room. The orange flames gave the room a warm glow, and it must have been the most romantic thing you had ever seen. 

'Is this for me?' you glanced over at him, still in awe and shock. He laughed at this lightheartedly, squeezing your hand. It must have taken him hours to prepare all of this, but it was so worth it, you could tell him. The atmosphere brought to the room was fantastical, otherworldly. 

Eddie led you to the centre of the room, where the candles on the ground were positioned in a circular shape, with just enough space for you to stand. 

'You look beautiful, y/n,' Eddie spoke in a hushed whisper. 'Divine. My little lamb.' He pushed the hair out of your face again. Why did it always get in the way? Such a gorgeous face should not be covered up with anything, which is why he was glad you hadn't put on make-up today. You were standing in front of him in your purest form. The white dress accentuated it. 'You know why you're here, don't you?' 

'Because you asked me to?' you spoke, voice shaking for some reason. The fire of the candles flickered on. In the dim light, you could make out some kind of graffiti painted on the walls, strange symbols you did not recognise. 

'Yes, but I meant, why I asked you to come here.' The entire house had been left in its original state, never emptied out after the original owners had… left it. This meant that the old bedroom still had all its furnishings around. The bed was behind you, but you could also see a dresser and an armchair in the corner. Eddie walked up to the dresser and picked something up. Long, thin, the silver reflecting the golden flame light– 

'Eddie?' You wanted to step back at the sight of the sharp knife but remembered the candles positioned all around you. 'What- what are you doing?' 

'It's ok, baby. I'm not going to hurt you,' Eddie smiled kindly. He toyed with the sharp tip of the blade, twirling it against his hand. 'I would never hurt you. You know that, right?' You did know this, so you didn't bother to back away when he came closer. Eyes remained locked, ignoring the fire, the symbols, and the blade. There was just you and him. 'You know that, right?' Eddie repeated his question, to which you nodded. But he needed you to say it and hear your voice.

'Yes.' He only wanted what's best for you, to protect you. But, of course, he would never do you any harm. 

'Good. Really, sweetheart, you don't know how happy I am I found you– you're so– you're just so perfect.' His perfect little lamb. All his. You couldn't tell if the heat burning inside you came from the candles or his words. 'You have always listened so well, always been so good. And you'll keep being good, won't you?' 

'Mhm.' The power of longer words escaped you. Eddie cupped your cheek in his hand, patting it gently.

'Because I really need you to listen and do as I say, baby. This is really important to me.' 

'But-' you pushed the words out, 'what are you doing?' You still couldn't quite make sense of the things around you. But Eddie smiled at your question, as if he had been expecting it, had wanted you to ask. Your hair was poking from behind your ears again, sticking at your cheek, which he brushed off. He could cut it right off with the knife in his hand– he always thought you would look prettier in shorter hair, it would frame your face so nicely–  but it would probably not be appreciated. Maybe one day, if he asked nicely if you would still have him after today.

Of course, you would. 

'We're going to heal the world, sweetheart.' He smiled his big gorgeous smile, but you were too caught up in his words. 'Restore the order of life, make everything wrong right again– you want to help me with that, don't you?' 

'Well, yes, but–' the fire was heating up the room quickly, and you could feel it on your skin. The knife in Eddie's hand kept reflecting the light, making you look at it, but each time you would, Eddie would press his fingers into your cheek so you would find his eyes again. 

'You don't have to be scared; I'm not going to hurt you. I need you to trust me, y/n.' The way your name flowed out of his lips, so smooth and sweet, you felt terrible just for having a thought of doubt ever sour mind. But even if you told yourself not to be scared, he did see that fear in your eyes. It was frustrating to see, because how many times could he comfort you? What would it take for you to understand him? Finally, he moved, turned slightly to the side, and the cold blade hit your arm. It did not cut or hurt, but it made you flinch. 

'Eddie–' your voice was so weak, nothing like he was used to. 

'Can I tell you a story?' He watched you nod your head. ''Humanity is a pest, y/n. We are poisoning our world with this structure and order, depending on these vices as if we were not the ones who had created them in the first place– there is nothing structural about us! We live our days just waiting for them to be over, numbing ourselves and telling lies to make it feel like it means something while it is entirely useless. It is hard to find a pure soul out there, yet… here you are. 

'Me?' you couldn't possibly imagine why you would have anything to do with this. 'I don't understand–'  

'You are at the centre of it all. My sweet sweet little lamb, fresher than fallen snow on a meadow. You are the prime example of what we all could be, a special gift. He sent you to me.' He had been gaining more and more energy and enthusiasm through his speech

'He?' You were starting to feel silly, being able to only respond with more questions and poorly phrased ones at that.

'Vecna,' he breathed out the word in a hush. You had heard him say the name before, but you had never questioned it, figuring it had just been one of the endless characters in his game. Eddie's eyes were bigger than you had ever seen them as he kept on talking passionately. 'He spoke to me, showed me everything. He was the one that made me realise just what a cruel and messed up world this is– and– and I'm not the only one. The people that lived here that died here… You know why they died, don't you? It had all been a part of this plan, you see. A… an offering. They gave their lives subject to a higher power. It was all for a greater cause.

'But they had not meant to die, it all just went so horribly wrong. They didn't know what they were doing, the Creels. But I do! Vecna told me and showed me everything I had to do in order to make this work. I've spent months making sure everything will go right, and you are the key. I need you to do this, y/n. Please.' In the time that you had met Eddie, you had seen a lot of sides to him. You had seen him be happy, sad, angry, tired, hyper, everything between and around it, but this was new. As he spoke to you, he almost seemed desperate. He was shaking with his words, purely out of the need to get his words out, for you to hopefully understand what he was trying to do.

The presence of the cold blade didn't get lost to you anymore, as you could feel it with every breath you took, pressing against your stomach with its flat side. You looked deeply into Eddie's eyes, trying to figure out what his intentions were with it, with you. Surely, he would not actually hurt you? That wasn't him. You could not imagine Eddie, your Eddie, doing such things as your scared mind was conjuring up at the moment. 

'You wanted to help me, didn't you? This would be the most wonderful thing you could ever do for me, y/n. It would be glorious. Just think about it, when it works, the life we will have together. Vecna will show you, help you as well. You just have to let him, let me.' 

Let me guide you, my little lamb. 

Let me help you, my sweetheart. 

Let me use you. 

He needed you. Truly needed you, and only you. You stood there, in your white dress, surrounded by the golden flames of the melting candles, Eddie just far enough not to press his body into yours. As he waited for an answer, maybe bored or nervous, he started tracing the knife over you. The tip of it pinched at your skin, teasing, over your arm up to your collarbone, down your sternum. It had hagged on the strap of the dress, and you had been sure he would have snapped it right off. It would have probably been enough for the whole dress to fall apart. It would pool at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear in front of him. The thought of it should be flooding you with fear, but to your surprise– it excited you. All of it did, in fact. 

'What- what do you need me to do?' You pushed down the lump forming in your throat, but you didn't need much force for it as it dissolved at the sight of Eddie's relieved grin. He kissed the top of your head, the blade in the same hand he brushed your hair with, so you felt the steel at your ear. It made you shiver. You could hear him whisper some more of those little words he always mumbled, still unable to make any sense out of them. Then, he made you leave the circle of candles and walked you to the side of the room, where the symbols were painted onto the wall. It is then that you noticed that the black paint was still wet in spots, freshly applied, but long enough to have already dried up for the most part.

'Give me your hand,' he asked of you, and you eagerly obliged, placing your hand over his palm. But then he pulled that knife up again, and you flinched, which made him visibly upset with a frown. 

'I'm sorry,' you apologised before he had even said anything. 

'I understand, baby, all of this is new, but you have nothing to fear. I'm here, and I've always made sure you're safe, didn't I? Right, so you know you can trust me. Look–' he put up his own hand, flat in front of you, and dragged the sharp knife over the skin, breaking it from the centre of his palm, right to the edge. The blood immediately started to spill out, colouring his pale skin crimson. But what you focused on was how he had not winced, not twitched, barely moved a muscle as the blade penetrated his outer layer. His eyes had been focused on the cut, just to glance up at you momentarily, to ensure you were looking at him. He wiped the knife on his shirt, letting the cut drip out onto the wooden panels of the floor. 'See? It doesn't even hurt.' Then he wiped his hand on his t-shirt, smearing the blood all over it. With the small and shallow cut, it would dry up in a few minutes. There was really nothing to be scared of. Eddie never wanted to hurt you. He just wants what's best for you– what's best for everyone. Just like he had said: restore the world order, make what's wrong right again. 

So, you held your hand out, steady. But as much as you trusted him, you couldn't get yourself to look as he pressed the blade into you. It stung as it moved over your palm. 

'Open your eyes,' Eddie told you. You were greeted with dark red stains on your hand when you did. It was already pooling in the small cup of your manus, dripping between your fingers. It stung as if he had kept on cutting, even though you had heard him put the knife away. It was lying untouched on the set of vintage drawers now. 

Eddie's next words were another request, as he guided your fingers to close in over your palm. 'Squeeze it.' And he pushed your fingers closed. You yelped at the shooting pain that came from it. The indentation splurged for more blood to come out. You saw flashes of white in front of your eyes as Eddie pressed it harder. 

'You see it, don't you?' He asked you eagerly. You nodded, keeping your tears at bay. You didn't want him to see you cry, not when you didn't even mean to. It was just sort of happening. 

Then, Eddie pulled you a step forward, pressing your bloody hand against the wall. This again pulled a wince out of you. It was so sensitive, and he pressed it so hard. He needed the blood to make its mark. He used you like a paintbrush, adding strokes of red over the black, making new symbols out of the already existing ones, finishing what he had started. 

'Look how great this looks. And it could only be you, to make it all work. Only someone as pure and innocent as you has that kind of power.' He had everything prepared in advance, so when he dropped your hand from the wall, he reached for a towel that he had also placed on that dresser earlier. He pressed it into your hand, applying the right kind of pressure this time to hopefully stop the blooding rather than encourage its continuation. He took care of you, just like any other day, showing you that he was still your Eddie after all. There was nothing to be scared of. 

'Is this it?' You looked up at him, the towel still wrapped around your hand. His sympathies peaked through the corners of his lips. 

'Not just yet, baby. There's one more thing, but this we can do together, and I promise you'll enjoy it much more than this.' 

'What is it?' 

'You already started the cleansing process, but we have to show Him that we mean our loyalty, and for that, a sacrifice is needed– just a small one, don't be scared,' he hushed, taking the towel away. 'And don't be nervous. I know you will do well; I made sure of it. That's why we waited. Had to know you would be able to handle it, but you're ready now.' That funny feeling in the pit of your stomach emerged again, covering your body in a flash of heat. It was that frustrating sensation you just could not get rid of that even Eddie could not help you with… but now you were ready. So what the two of you did in his bedroom last Friday… the cycle would be complete. There would be no more torture and pleading for a release. He could bring you to it, finally. 

'You're ready now.' Eddie didn't show it, as he repeated his last words, but he was conflicted about it all. It broke him to see you lose some of that innocence, but it had to be done, and it was an honour that he would be the one to do it. Better him, who understood the value of your purity, rather than some boy who would use you for his own pleasure. In a way, he was doing this to protect you, too. By letting you join him in his venture, he was ensuring safety for you. He would protect you. Vecna will protect you. 

But for this, he actually had to make you his. 

Again, holding your hand, he led you through the room. Avoiding the candles spread out over the floor, he got you to stand next to the bed. Both your hands were sticky with drying blood. The cut still burned when he squeezed at your hand, but neither of you showed any signs of discomfort. 

He wondered if once this was all over, your eyes would still be full of the innocence he was so enamoured by. Would you still look at him with this naive bewilderment, or would he ruin you completely? If so, that would be his sacrifice. He would give up the pleasure of the sight for the sake of the greater good, naturally. 

This would then perhaps be the last time you looked at him this way, so he would have to cherish it to the fullest extent. He let his fingers draw down your face, caressing the soft apples of your cheeks. Finally, his thumb moved over your chin, barely touching your bottom lip. How long he had needed to feel it, touch all of you, but held back. Now he finally could, though. 

Too immersed in his deep brown eyes, you didn't see what was happening around them. You only heard him pull something out of his pocket– material. It was a handkerchief. But not the black skull he would wear often around the school. This one was white, like your dress. However, it was quickly getting tainted by the pink of the last remaining blood that could still transfer from his hands. How you had not noticed it on him before was a bit silly. 

The material was smooth and pleasant to the touch, warm, as Eddie pulled it over your face. The metallic scent of blood wavered over it; no one could tell whether it was his or yours. Eddie tied it behind your head, making sure your eyes were covered, and just like that, you were enveloped in darkness. 

'By taking away one sense,' he whispered into your ear, 'all the others get heightened. It is an experience like no other, to submit yourself to the elements. An honour. Now– ah.' He hadn't even needed to ask you anything, as when his thumb fell over your bottom lip, your mouth immediately parted, like an impulse, to let him enter. He pressed the finger over your tongue and watched you suck on it desperately. This was it—the first touch. Just like that, one simple act had already been enough to corrupt you. 

'Sit down. On your knees. There we go, so good for me.' If he hadn't known better, if he hadn't made sure you never lied to him about what you have or have not done, he wouldn't have assumed you had experience, that you knew exactly what you were doing. That his little lamb was, in fact, just a whore like everyone else. But no, of course, you weren't. He had prepared you for this moment, let out what was only in your nature already. It was the right thing to submit to his touch like this. 

But eventually, after a few seconds, he had to pull his hand away from you. The action came unexpectedly, and you were ready to follow him, even though you couldn't see where he had moved to. You tried your best trying to figure out what was happening, using those other heightened senses to their fullest potential. You could hear the flickering of the flames around you, and the burning smell came with it, which was still not strong enough to cover up the musky scent of Eddie, how the wooden floor dug at your knees, even through the fabric of your dress. And even though you could not see him, you could feel his presence towering over you. 

It didn't matter how much you tried to focus on your surroundings; nothing would have prepared you for Eddie grabbing you by your chin to pull your face up, hollowing your already open mouth into a perfect little O-shape. Next thing you know, you heard a strange noise and felt something wet touch your mouth, spill into it. The sensation made you squirm, no idea what it was that Eddie had just done. You didn't know what to do. 

'C'mon, baby. You know what to do when you have something in your mouth. Swallow.' He shut your mouth with his grip on it, helping you take the spit– because that's what it is, you realised– down your throat. He hummed in satisfaction through your whimpers. 'It's ok, baby. This is all a part of it. Got to get used to each other, it's all bonding.' He wanted to be closer to you, connected, and that idea warmed your heart. The way his hands then brushed over your hair, you nearly mewled into the touch. 

Trying to position him was difficult, as he seemed to walk circles around you, his lips filled with those mysterious words and mumblings again. If you could see now, you would have stared at the ground or the hands you had placed over your lap. His flavour was still in your mouth, and it felt strange, but not in the wrong way.

He had walked another circle around you before stopping at your back. You felt the tension on the dress as he pulled at one of the straps, letting it slide down your shoulder. Then the other. Eddie undid the zipper from behind you as slowly as he had pulled it up the day before in the dressing room. Except for this time, you were not wearing a bra underneath it. It wasn't the kind of dress that would really work with one, you had thought in the morning. It certainly wouldn't look pretty, with the undergarment straps visible, and you wanted to look nice when seeing Eddie… so, that is how you ended up sitting on the floor in this old house, hands on your lap as Eddie pulled the dress off of your top half, revealing your breasts to the hot air.

'So beautiful.' he said, mumbling something under his breath again. 'Absolutely beautiful. He let his hand wander over to your chest, toying with the nipples, taking turns in giving attention to them. To think he was the first person to have the pleasure to touch you like this. To make you arch your back with just a simple pinch– oh, and the sounds that fell from your lips as he pulled at them, he started to feel the constraint of his jeans. Stand up. 

Your legs were already sore from the position you had been sitting in, and they trembled as you got up. The dress fell off your legs, down to the ground as you did. You stepped out of it, accidentally kicking it to the side. A bitter smell erupted from somewhere in the room like the smoke was getting stronger. 

'What is that?'

'Nothing,' Eddie's calm tone had wavered for a moment, or so it seemed his following words were just as smooth and charming as before. 'Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about. Just, c'mere,' It would have been difficult for you to do that with the blindfold in front of your eyes, but he had reached out with his hands to you.

And then, his lips were on yours. They were chapped as always, feeling a bit rough compared to how soft yours were. He tasted like the cigarettes he smokes when you aren't around, combined with another bitter flavour you couldn't place. It was soo much to take in, your senses all going into overdrive trying to keep up with him. You didn't know what to do with yourself, so you stood still, letting your lips move accordingly to how his did. But he kissed you with such an urgency, such hunger and vigour; you could hardly keep up.

It was messy and left your head spinning, nothing like you had actually expected your first kiss to be, but it was still perfect, as it was with Eddie. 

You were now completely naked, standing in this attic room filled with candles; Eddie was holding on to your sides, kissing your neck. Each time his lips left your skin, it didn't even matter as you could still feel him on you. The trace he left behind was sloppy and needy and seeking out the weak spot on your neck so you could roll your head back in pleasure. All of these feelings were so new to you, so overwhelming, but you understood why Eddie wanted you to wait, why you had to be ready for this… and it was only the beginning. 

Perhaps Eddie got a bit over-excited, for he suddenly picked you up off the ground, hands around your thighs. The suddenness made you scream out. You were utterly disorientated as he took a few stops and then dropped you down onto the bed. It could not have been a drop of more than a foot, but your stomach twisted. The mattress creaked loudly underneath you, but didn't continue as Eddie had not joined you in the bed just yet. So you lay there, waiting for whatever would come next– which was that Eddie had grabbed you by the hand and pulled you across to the head of the bed. A shriek left your lips. It would have been better if he had told you what he would be doing. The constant uncertainty of it all made your brain whirl. 

And then he took your other hand, before you could even say something and gripped both your wrists tightly. 

'Eddie, what–' you felt the cold metal against your skin and the faint clink of something locking. When he released your arms, you wanted to pull them away from what you assumed was the headboard, but you could barely move anymore. 

'Remember those handcuffs that always hang in my room,' Eddie had leaned down beside the bed to be at your level. As you could not see anything, you kept your head straight up, directed at the ceiling. Your breathing got heavier, the constraints confusing you, but Eddie had his reasons. 'It might all get a bit too much for you at a certain point, so this will help you keep grounded. And a physical restraint helps us as a reminder that we should restrict ourselves in indulgences, the things that only break us more. We do not want to get carried away, so this will help, I promise. Just trust me.' He kissed your cheek, which felt wet for some reason. His thumb brushed over the same spot his lips had just met, and then, for a short time that felt like an eternity, there was nothing. Eddie had moved to another part of the room; you could still hear him, walking, shuffling around, mumbling his usual incoherent phrases to himself. You tried to listen to them, finally trying to make out what he was saying, but it was too soft of a whisper that ended too close to his mouth. 

'My little lost sheep has finally found her way,' he said when he came back, the weight on the bed shifted, 'I have done my best guiding you towards this point, y/n, have done anything I could to protect you, to make sure you ended up here, where you belong. Now, you have to tell me, make the final decision– do you want this?' 

'Yes.' You wanted him. He had been gone far too long, and you were already missing his touch. The anticipation was building inside you, coming together at your centre, burning with a need for him. You had thought that hunger and thirst that had been torturing you over the past weeks, the one Eddie had told you to ignore, that it had died down after the little help he had given you, but it was all coming back ten times worse. Something in you was eating you alive, and you couldn't lay still anymore, closing your legs, trying to get some kind of friction from the movement of rubbing them together, trying to find an angle at which some kind of relief would come out. 

'Should have brought something to tie those pretty legs down as well. Stop, please.' He placed his hand over your thigh, rubbing circles over it slowly, 'you're gonna hurt yourself, moving like that.' So, you did stop, both the wiggling of your legs and tugging at the cuffs in frustration. His touch on your leg got rougher as he spread your legs wide open, revealing you to him. 

'Yes, there is no doubt about it, sweetheart. You are ready.' He said voice laced with something that you had never really heard before in Eddie– pure lust. So ready, and he touched you. Right there, between your legs, this time with no panties or jeans to keep you apart, you felt his calloused fingers slide right over your slit. He moved his hand up and down, stroking lightly, and with each lap, he would add a bit more pressure, letting his fingers slip past your folds but not entering you quite yet.  

You moaned; you didn't whimper, mewl or giggle. You moaned out his name. He had broken you now. Unsealed you. He was going to make you his. 

His little lamb. 

His fingers started moving faster, slipping inside you now and then, teasing. But you took it all so well, taking anything he gave you with the most gratitude. It was all so new, so much all at once; even a tease of his fingers was enough to make you see stars. He broke your barrier, broke you; there was no going back now that his fingers were deep inside you. Each time shooting up sparks through your body, letting you revel in it. You pulled at the handcuffs again, not because you needed to get out of them, but because you felt the urge to react somehow, and this was the only thing you could do. Hands tied up in the metal, legs spread out, and hips pushed down by Eddie's grip, you were stuck in a prison of delectation.  

As his fingers continued making you feel ecstatic, he kissed your thighs over and over again. A sweet and haste peppering of his lips at your sensitive skin, hot and needy for both of you. When he pulled his fingers away from you, you could hear a smacking sound, followed by a hum. 

'You know what you taste like, sweetheart?' 

'No?' you could not say that had ever been something you thought about, but now that he had subjected the question, you were eager to find out. 

'You taste like the sweetest nectar,' he kissed your stomach, 'Perfect and pure.' He could not get enough of your authenticity, your unadulterated and untouched body. It still hurt him to think that it would not last much longer, this vestal beauty and glow that seemed to radiate off you, but something so much better would come. Just you wait and see… 

Eddie started repeating his little phrases anew as the kisses continued, and, this time, you could hear his mumbled words more clearly, each syllable emphasised with a breath of hot air against your core. The exact meaning of the words might have escaped you, but it did not stop them from sounding like what it was. A prayer, a blessing, finished with his sigh of "Hail Lord Vecna" in almost a whisper, before delving between your legs and kissing you there passionately. 

The scream had not meant to come out, as the only thing you felt was a foreign pleasure. It was just a heavy shock to the system. Never before had you felt something like that. 

Eddie's tongue pressed deeper into you, dipping at your sweetest spot, licking at your arousal. Before this, the handcuffs had not felt much like a nuisance, but you understood it now. All you wanted to do was to grab Eddie by the hair, pull it, show him how good it made you feel– but it could be distracting. It could pull him out of his concentration, ruin his whole plan, everything he had worked so hard on. 

Yes, he had prepared, as he knew exactly what he was doing, reaching your desired spots, kissing you in a way you never expected a kiss to feel. You were glad he didn't tell you to keep quiet, because it did not seem to be a possible task. Moans kept leaving your mouth constantly.

'Eddie! Oh my–' your eyes rolled back, hips bucked up, which Eddie quickly pushed back down. But, to your horror, he pulled away from you entirely, and if you could see him, you would have seen his eyes, now almost as dark as a starless night, stare at you. 

'It's not me you should be thanking,' he kissed your pelvis before whispering another "hail Lord Vecna". 

'Hail Lord Vecna,' you repeated after him, but much breathier. 

'Yes, good, sweetheart. Say it again, Louder. He will be so happy to hear your voice say his name.' he encouraged. 

'Hail Lord Vecna,' you dared to say it, and Eddie supported it with a new kiss toward your clit. Then, with each repeat of the phrase, he extended it and kissed you longer and deeper until he was back to eating you out completely. 

Hail 

Lord 

Vecna

Not long after, the feeling came back, except ten times harder, as if you had already been circling around it for hours. Again, the knot in your stomach tightened. It was coming closer and closer– 

But Eddie pulled away again, at which you mewled out. 

'No, please, please,' you whined, much to his amusement. Eddie started making his way up again, hands on either side of you, leaving kisses all over your body, his metal necklace chain trailing behind until he reached your lips once more. His chin was wet with your juices, and you could taste yourself on him as he kissed you. A flavour that turned your stomach, but Eddie's hands were still on you, kneading and squeezing at thighs and hips, and then he pulled the blindfold off of you. It was dimly dark in the room, but you still had to get used to the light of the candles. Most of them had already started burning out. 

Eddie hovered above you, the white handkerchief in his mouth before he spat it out next to you. His hair fell down his face, the tips tickling at your collarbone and neck. All you wanted to do was to brush your hair through it, but you couldn't move your arms more than an inch away from the ornate headboard. 

'Eddie,' you whimpered, tugging at the handcuffs again. He just smiled and leaned in to kiss you again. That's when you noticed he had also taken off his clothes. You were both naked, piled on top of each other, in the most intimate and compromising position a person could find themselves in. 

Your heart was beating faster and faster, pushing against your chest, drumming in your ears. This was it. This is what everything had been leading up to. The moment Eddie had been preparing you for. The climax of his plan. 

He kissed you once more, tenderly.

'This might hurt, baby, but it should. It will be a good pain. The best feeling you've ever felt, so don't be scared, ok? It's all going to be ok.' He spoke with his eyes locked on yours; you were dazed and confused, unsure what he was talking about. You had already felt so good, couldn't possibly imagine something that would feel even better. 

But then the pain did come. There where his fingers, and his tongue, had been, and now you felt something stretch you out on the inside. Eddie pushed inside you, ripping you open, stretching you out. 

'Eddie!' You tugged at the handcuffs, but they didn't budge just like before. 

'Shh, this is good. It will be over soon. Trust me. Just trust me,' he repeated as he moved his hips. Moving out of you, but the pain didn't stop. Not when he pushed back into you or when he moved back out. With every thrust, it seemed to get worse, harsher and rougher, the pain not ceasing to stop but instead shooting up your spine. Soon, the tears started to roll down your cheeks again. 

'It's ok, it's all alright,' Eddie whispered, kissing your nose, but he let the tears roll this time, dropping down your ears into your hair and onto the mattress. Just another sign of your loss and what you were willing to give him. How good you were, so willing to give yourself up for the cause. He was so proud, and then your moans returned, and he felt his heart grow twice in size. You looked, sounded, and felt so perfect. 'Yes, that's right. So good. C'mon, baby, doesn't this feel good?' 

'Yes, yes,' you managed to say. The pain had finally receded and slowly turned to the promised pleasure you had been waiting for. The moans were now seeping out of you, body shaking at the force he was taking you with. His lips had made their way down to your breast, kissing at the valley between them, kissing over your pebbled nipples, sucking lightly, stimulating an even higher scream of pleasure from you. He kept on going, hard and fast. 

How right he had been, saying this would be the best feeling you'd ever feel. There was nothing like it than to feel him inside you, stretching you out, hitting at the right places that made your toes curl. He kept this power over you with just his movements, controlling your body with his, giving you so much to respond to. He had prepared, knew what to do to the right reactions out of you, what would please or not, what to do to make it all work. Not much longer now. It was so close, all coming to an end. 

'So beautiful,' his voice was airy but in a lost sense. He was seeking out oxygen as he continued his strikes. Both your breathing started to get heavier; everything was getting hotter and hotter around you. Your stomach tightened, and you remembered what Eddie had told you the first time it happened. 

'Eddie! I- I'm–' what was it that he had called it? You whimpered the words out before it got too much. 'I'm close! Please.' What you were pleading for, you weren't sure. But you had waited so long, so excruciatingly long, you couldn't take it anymore. 

'Wait, baby. Just a bit longer.' He huffed out, his thrusts becoming sloppier. 

'Eddie,' you cried out. How much more could you possibly wait before you would explode? 

'Be good for me. I know you can do it.' You wanted to cry and scream. He had made you wait so long, then said you were ready, just for you to wait even more. When would it finally end? When could you finally gain your euphoric release? 

Was this the sacrifice? This torture he put you under, was it all for the sake of his plan? Would this appeal to Vecna? Your tears and screams as you lost a piece of yourself to him, would that heal the broken part of the world? 

'Hail Lord Vecna,' he grunted with his final juts of the hips. It made your ears ring and your skin rise in goosebumps. And this gravelly coarseness stayed in his voice. 'Come. Come to me.' 

You would follow him anywhere; you knew that. And as he stopped to let his pleasure release into you, you followed right after. Stars were crossing over your shut eyes. You couldn't breathe, move, or do anything but let it all wash over you. A million butterflies fluttered inside you. 

Eddie cursed as he pulled out of you, and you immediately felt empty. It was like a spell had immediately dissolved out of you, and the fatigue took over. 

Just like that, it was over. 

'Here we go,' he breathed out, pulling the chain off his neck, where his guitar pick hung, but now it was also joined by the little key that fits into the handcuff lock. With a click, one cuff opened, then the other, and you were free to let your arms drop to your sides. 

You thought that moving was not an option anymore as you lay in that old bed, staring at the cracks in the wooden ceiling. The muscles in your arms were already souring, only to get even worse by the time the sun would rise again. You'd have to get home, but the idea of just getting up off the mattress was making you tired. Even rolling over to your side to greet Eddie's face was too much at the moment. 

But you could not stay there forever; the candles would burn out entirely soon, shrouding you in darkness and the cold. So, slowly you managed to get up, ignoring how everything seemed to sway around you. Just had to close your eyes for a second. 

You rubbed at your wrists, which were now red and sore from the handcuffs. Eddie had gotten off the bed, too, pulling his shirt over his head as you looked around to see your dress on the floor. The white fabric was covered in red stains. There was no way you could wear this outside now; what would your parents think if they saw the blood?! And maybe, relatively, it wasn't even that big of an amount, but the contrast on the snow white enhanced each drop to an extreme. 

'Eddie,' you gasped, reaching out for the garment, and that is when you noticed the scorch marks underneath. That bitter, smoky smell– it had been your dress burning. You wanted to cry. It was the only thing you had brought with you– your special gift from Eddie nonetheless– and it was now completely destroyed. 'I don't–' 

'Shhh,' he sat back down on the bed, taking your hand in his. The wounds on both of you had stopped bleeding entirely and were closing up, but it still hurt when he dragged his finger along the harsh line. Then, he leaned down and pulled a duffel bag from underneath the bed. It must have been where he had carried everything in. when he opened the bag, you saw a sealed candle, identical to some of the lit, nearly burned up ones around you. But he wasn't pulling the candle out of the bag. Instead, Eddie showed you clothes you recognised all too well. 'I brought these for you in case the dress wouldn't work out after all.' And he handed you the shirt and shorts, both yours, which you had had for years, your favourite until you had lost them, so you thought. Things got misplaced; after all, you could have easily forgotten them once you had been at Eddie's place. 

The fact he had kept them for you and brought them along to this house in case you would need a spare change of clothes… warmed your heart. 

With happy tears threatening to escaper your eyes, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. 

'I'm sorry, Eddie', you mumbled against him, still feeling horrible that his gift to you had been ruined. 

'It's ok, baby. We'll get you a new one.'  He caressed his hand over your back, giving you something to find comfort in. after all, that's all he wanted, for you to be safe and happy. Nothing but the best for his sweet little lamb. Always leading her in the right direction, straying from the dark and the dangerous. 'How about a black, this time? Or a pretty red one?' 

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