#007 Steve Harrington

[sparkie96]

007Steve AU: Stranger Things 2: “Chapter One: Tricks & Treats”

Halloween has come to Hawkins and with it, comes the unusual circumstances.

To no one’s surprise, the Harringtons extended their stay at wherever they usually disappeared to, so Steve has been staying with Hopper at the cabin. Billy has become a frequent visitor, much to Hopper’s annoyance. Not because Billy is a jerk or anything, but because Steve and Billy are becoming more…acquainted. Luckily, El’s return has thrown a wrench in a bunch of their plans.

On the other hand, Dustin’s little pet project, D’art, gets out of hand and it’s up to him and Babysitter Chrissy Cunningham to figure this out. Eddie is just unwillingly along for the ride.

Mike, Lucas, Will, and Max keep looking for El despite Lucas insisting that she could be gone for good this time. While out searching, something comes for Will…the same thing that is looking for Steve and El.

More memories haunt Steve and El tries to help, accidentally coming across a memory of Eight, or Kali, who escaped when Steve got out.

Rated for Suggestive Themes, Language, and Canon Typical Violence.

(Well, I did say I would be making a sequel, didn’t I? Happy Halloween!🎃)

[italiansteebie]

thinking about magic steve who doesn't know he has magic.

he just happens to be in the right place at the right time and never seems to get too terribly injured.

and it's weird, because he got chewed on by bats and was like, yeah okay, and eddie did too and ended up in the hospital for months. and it seemed like eddie was as good as dead until steve appeared and basically willed the guy back to life.

and yeah, there are some gaps

in his childhood.

weird memories of hospital stays and rude staff.

and the weird gray rooms he'd be locked in.

and the way he got major creeps when anyone mentioned hawkins lab.

but that didn't mean anything. not really.

until he and eleven were "hanging out" not babysitting because eleven was NOT a baby. but hop still wasn't comfortable leaving her alone. anyways. they were hanging out. and eleven wouldn't quit staring at him.

"super girl, i don't mean to be rude but what are looking at? is there something on my face?"

she smiled softly "no. you look. familiar."

"i am. i've known hop for awhile now..."

"no. you look. like. seven. brother. he- he left the lab when i was young."

and if that didn't click a lot of things into place. "seven." he whispered to himself. thinking about how when he was a kid, he'd had buzzed hair when he was around 10-11, and how his parents wanted him to grow it out around his neck, and so he did.

he didn't want to question them, they'd always seemed detached and he didn't want to make it worse. and then he ended up liking it. so he kept the long hair. and how was he going to notice something on the back of his head?

"why are you rubbing your head?"

he hadn't even realized he was doing it.

el peered at him, gently moving his fingers from where he was scratching.

and there it was in all its glory.

"007."

[strangerthings-fanfics1301]

Chapter one: The Lab

1975

Hawkins lab

Seven never understood why Papa would always keep him from the others. Papa would only allow him to see 011 when he had gotten to the age of 8. Eleven she was fairly young to be at the lab. She looked around 5-6 years old which always surprised me because no one was able to see her since birth. Papa would explain that she was not in the condition to be tested or do experiments. And would tell the others they were too dangerous for visitation.

Papa always said he was "dangerous" and wasn't allowed to be with others but he wasn't dangerous he wanted to play with somebody just one time just once!

Ever since birth at the lab I was always told that I just don't understand why I don't mean to be "dangerous" I just want somebody to play with.

I tried to tell Papa I wasn't "DANGEROUS" and that I am NICE! seven didn't want to hurt anyone but why was everyone always hurting him? everyone not even Papa cares about how I feel

I thought I could trust him.

Papa would always say things like

"you'll get better"

"try harder next time and maybe you'll see the others."

"you're too DANGEROUS for the other seven"

"Your too unique seven for the others they won't understand you"

And one-time Papa got so angry at him

"YOU ARE A MONSTER SEVEN YOU'LL KILL THEM ALL!"

Ever since then I always wondered if I was the monster all along.

Am I dangerous?

__________________________________________________________________

1979

The woods

I had finally escaped that living hell of a "home". It was brutal but he did it even though I had finally escaped that horrid place. I had been running for I don't know how long all I know is that my feet were in agony. I had heard people from the lab yelling my name. I didn't look back. This was my only chance to escape. All I know is to run.

They kept saying I needed to get "better" which was never true. I was never going to get better any time soon. So I didn't look even a glance I just kept running I didn't know where I was exactly but that didn't matter

my only goal at the moment was to keep running

RUN FOR DEAR LIFE

apart of me felt bad for not involving that youngest one there eleven she was so nice she only talked to him because they both were both only allowed to see each other but that didn't matter she was the only person that wasn't mad or upset with him it made him feel some sort of want

But deep down inside it hurts so much that I didn't involve her in my plan of mine to escape. I mean it was only me on this escape plan but I also didn't want to leave her in that living hell.

There was only so little I could do, hey I am only 12 years old there was not much I could do. But I know I could do something to save her.

That has always been and will be the biggest regret I made in my life.

[murdrdocs]

MURDRTOBR !

thirty one nights of classic, horny, fun.

requests: closed + note from celeste

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 FORMIDABLE COOL. ETHAN LANDRY OCT 01

an exclusive with the infamous ghostface killer from the recent 6th installment

manipulation, p in v, choking/breath play, mean!ethan, ghostface!ethan

other articles include ...

INTERVIEW 001 - ,, mean!hobie brown + degradation. OCT 03

INTERVIEW 002 - ,, sub!stiles stilinski + thigh riding. OCT 05

INTERVIEW 003 - ,, ethan landry + period sex. OCT 07

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 SAW YOUR END. VOID STILES STILINSKI OCT 11

in a shocking interview, you reveal your attraction towards the nogitsune, despite all of the havoc he has inflicted on your loved ones. including the owner of the body he possesses.

fem!reader, void stiles, slight dubcon, manipulation, impact play, forced impregnation, snowballing, choking

other articles include ...

INTERVIEW 004 - ,, theo raeken + manipulation OCT 8

INTERVIEW 005 - ,, mean!rafe cameron + degradation OCT 10

INTERVIEW 006 - ,, officer! miguel o'hara + playing dangerous OCT 12

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 YOUR HAZE. VOID STILES STILINSKI OCT 17

this week we sit down with you and are blessed with the revelation that stiles stilinski really likes your fangs and craving for human blood.

vampire!fem!reader, void stiles, heavy manipulation, oral sex (f receiving)

other articles include ...

INTERVIEW 007 - ,, ethan landry + suffocation + oral OCT 15

INTERVIEW 008 - ,, eddie munson + non con voyeurism OCT 16

INTERVIEW 009 - ,, rafe cameron/sarah cameron + stepcest OCT 18

INTERVIEW 010 - ,, ghostface! jj maybank/rafe cameron + dubcon OCT 21

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 BUT YOU'RE NOT MINE. MIGUEL O'HARA OCT 25

in this tell all, miguel o’hara details the time he got with you. well not you you, but the you in another universe. the faces are the same, so he wonders: what else is the same?

fem!reader, dubcon + cnc, size kink, dacryphilia, oral sex (f receiving), p n v

INTERVIEW 011 - ,, robin buckley + voice kink OCT 24

INTERVIEW 012 - ,, theo raeken/stiles stilinski + voyeurism OCT 26

INTERVIEW 013 - ,, finnick odair + filming OCT 28

INTERVIEW 014 - ,, mike schmidt + filming OCT 29

INTERVIEW 015 - ,, stepsis!hazel callahan + filming + blackmail OCT 30

INTERVIEW 016 - ,, hazel callahan + corruption OCT 31

rules.

respect the authors wishes; do not request any kinks not on the list; if unsure about anything, contact me! most if not all works are dark content. minors pls dni !

characters.

Chad Meeks Martin, Charlie Walker, Corey Cunningham, Dave Lizewski, Eddie Munson, Ethan Landry, Finnick Odair, Hobie Brown, Hazel Callahan, Harry James Potter, Jackson Whittemore, Jake Seresin/Hangman, Jake Sully, JJ Maybank, Miguel O’Hara, Mike Schmidt, Namor, Peter B. Parker, Peter Parker (all), Peter Quill, Quinn Bailey, Rafe Cameron, Robin Buckley, Rodrick Heffley, Sam Carpenter, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Steve Harrington, Steven Grant, Tara Carpenter, Theo Raeken

kinks.

Age gap/age difference, Blood Play, Bukkake, Car sex, Cock ring, Cuckold, Double Penetration, Exhibitionism, Femdom, Filming, Groupsex/Gangbang, Hate Fucking, Heat, Knife play/danger kink, Mommy kink, Monster fucking (vampires, werewolves, incubus/succubus), Mutual Masturbation, Pegging, Piss/Bladder control, Public sex, Sex Pollen, Size difference, Somnophilia, Stepcest, Voyeurism

original blog navi

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 018: Murphy's Law

You’re only against a handful of things. Of course, the one time you go to bed angry, shit hits the fan.

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters

author's note: 2/23/2024 — i don't want you guys to suffer too much, so the last two chapters will be released tomorrow 2/24/2024. i love you guys, thank you for tuning in ♥️

CW: i don't wanna spoil anything, so this whole chapter is a trigger warning. please be mindful of this before reading; ps thank you to @freckledjoes for letting me use this picture of barron/"steve"

word count: 1.3k words

♡

“I’m Natalia, who are you?”

“I’m...Shy Girl,” you narrow your eyes. “My boyfriend Eddie lives here.”

You've never been good at math. But it doesn't take putting 2 and 2 together to realize that — the car in Eddie's spot this morning — belongs to the Nancy look-alike in front of you.

And if you looked too fast, you would've thought that she WAS Nancy. But the strapless tube top, lettuce-trim booty shorts, and lacy black tights on a cold December morning rule out that possibility.

Your eyes trail over to Steve in the background, frantic and sweaty, hairy chest out on display as he shuffles around to find a shirt to throw on. You clear your throat, meeting Natalia’s blue eyes one more time before speaking again.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Oh no girl, you're fine!" the busty brunette chirps, when she realizes you're no longer a threat to her. "I was just heading out. I guess his roomie is going to be back any second now."

Doing your best to conceal your laughter, you step off to the side to allow Steve's booty call to get her things and scoot out the door. Steve watches awkwardly, leaning against the doorway and flashing Natalia a smile as he watches her get to her car safely.

You wait until she’s out of earshot to speak to him.

“Natalia.” you sing with a smirk. “Really?”

“Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“The one you’re making right now, Hargrove. Don’t start.”

Your eyes venture down to the faint bite marks on Steve’s neck. You turn around to look at the doppelgänger one last time, giving her a wave as she drives away.

“Not starting anything,” you insist. “I just think it’s funny.”

He knows what you’re thinking and it doesn’t help his case. Steve steps off to the side, inviting you in. After closing the door behind you, Harrington gestures towards the box in your hand.

“Whatchu got there?”

“Apology cupcakes for Eddie,” you explain. “I was a real bitch to him yesterday so I decided to bake him something to compensate.”

You spent all night guilt-baking, hoping to win Eddie back with the cute vanilla cupcakes topped with sad red frowns on them, followed by a homemade card that reads, "I'm sorry for pushing you against the wall". Expecting Steve to find it adorable, he offers you a rather confused reaction instead.

"…Eddie didn’t stay over last night?” he asks with a cocked brow.

Your heart sinks.

“No… I thought he came straight here after Wayne’s.”

“Well obviously he didn’t,” Steve says. “Hence why I had Nat spend the night.”

“Well do you think he’s at Dustin’s?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t spoken to the guy since yesterday morning.”

Something's off. Immediately rushing to the living room, you set the cupcakes down so you can call Wayne. It rings a few times but Eddie's uncle doesn’t pick up.

"Wayne's not picking up."

“That’s odd,” Steve gulps. “He almost always does.”

So you go to message Eddie. It's a simple text, Where are you? Straight to the point. To your complete shock, your usual blue text bubbles turn green. Eddie's phone is off. What the hell?

So you go to call him next. It doesn't hurt to try. But then your knees start to buckle when you're immediately directed to an automated voicemail box.

“We’re sorry. Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please try again later.”

The room is as frostbitten as the air outside. Steve senses abrupt energy shift.

You scroll nervously through your phone. The next person to contact is Dustin. Outside of his friendship with Steve, he is the next person closest to Eddie. But Curly doesn't pick up either.

"Oh god," you feel the color rushing from your face.

"Hargrove, i-it's okay," Steve attempts. "He's probably with Jeff or Gareth or Grant or somethin', o-okay? Let's not jump to conclusions."

He rests a warm hand atop your arm, grounding you back down to earth. You turn to him with worry. He rubs your back to comfort you.

"Eddie would never do anything to hurt himself on purpose," Steve assures you. "I can promise you that much. Don't let your mind go there."

"Okay," you exhale.

"But he is stupid though," Steve adds. "So, to be safe, we should probably check the hospital. Or urgent care. Dude probably cucked his ankle again."

And with that, you two set off to Hawkins Memorial on the other side of town.

The icy roads seem to draw on for miles as Steve drives. And you had no desire to explore the vastness of Roane County, for as long as Eddie isn’t there waiting for you at whatever coordinate the wind blows you to next.

Tapping your feet anxiously on the floor, you click your phone on and off again to see whether or not a message from Eddie pops up. It’s the same outcome every time.

Steve’s gentle hand rests on top of your trembling ones once again. He gives you a soft pat.

“It’ll all be okay, Shy Girl,” he says to you. “Promise.”

Thankfully, hospital parking is almost immediate. Booking it to the emergency department now, you and Steve rush to get to the front of the line to speak to the receptionist. When it's finally your turn, she greets you rather stoically.

“Can I help you?”

Without violating HIPAA?

“I sure hope so,” you sigh. “This is a wellness check. Do you guys maybe have a Munson admitted here?”

“Munson…” the last name marinates on the lady’s tongue almost as if she’s familiar with it. You wouldn’t doubt it. Wayne’s a frequent flyer due to the cancer and Hawkins is quite literally a speck of dust on the map.

You try to help her. “Maybe an Eddie…Edward… or quite possibly a Wayne…”

“Quite possibly a Wayne?” the lukewarm secretary echos you.

“Yes!” you hiss urgently. “Or maybe a John Doe? A guy in his late twenties, early thirties... This person most likely came in yesterday afternoon, night, or maybe even this morning. He has brown hai-"

“Shy Girl…” comes a voice behind you.

It’s one of the Munsons you’re looking for. But to your surprise, not the one you were expecting.

"Wayne..." you breathe.

In front of you is Eddie's uncle, sitting in his wheelchair evidently a bawling mess. If he’s here and Eddie’s not, it can only mean one thing.

Your throat tightens and you struggle to speak. A thin veil of tears gloss over your eyes, your fingertips essentially frozen now as the sterile white building closes up around you.

“Wayne…” you say again. “What happened?”

His uncle sniffs, drawing out uneven breaths as he tries to calm down, nose an irritable red to match his glassy, sleep-deprived eyes.

“There’s... been an accident,” he chokes. “They T-boned him. Van is totaled.”

That van. That stupid fucking van you’ve told Eddie time and time again to get rid of.

“Wayne," Steve interrogates. "Who drove you here?”

“The Henderson boy.”

You can't take it anymore.

“Where is he?!” you demand. “And why aren’t you with him, Wayne?! WHERE IS EDDIE?”

“Doctors won’t tell me nothin'!” Wayne blubbers, his voice cracking like a helpless child. “But as someone whose second home is the hospital, I know what that means.”

The three of you take this time to cry. You instantly collapse into Steve's arms. He embraces you tight, dragging you off to the side so the people who were waiting behind you could be helped next.

Nothing matters anymore, you think to yourself. This is what you get for going to bed angry. The one time. The one time. And as the three of you start to gather yourselves again — rather slowly — Wayne speaks once more... uttering a belief that you've already come to terms with. Something that you already know.

“It’s not looking good for Eddie.”

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @mediocredreams @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay @xblueriddlex @maskofmirrors @babyloutattoo89 @queenofhawkins

oh yeah, song of the chapter is...

side note: s/o to DR. bridgit mendler, the irl barbie

[wheatnoodle]

mr harrington who’s a scientist at hawkins lab. doctor harrington who made his pregnant wife an mk ultra experiment. dr harrington who gladly hands his baby over to dr brenner the second he is born.

007 who grows up with his dad as his main assigned researcher. being poked and prodded and tested and tased and tortured, all while his father stands next to dr brenner behind a glass pane, taking notes on his clipboard.

007 who lashes out when told his mother is dead. he knows she’s alive. somewhere. he can feel her. 007 who begins to lash out at anyone who comes close. they are the bad guys. they took him from her.

007 who kills a guard and steals his key ring to sneak 008 out. though he’s stopped before he can follow. he cannot wander free. but he cannot be here anymore.

a small device is implanted in his neck. hooked up to several wires to his brain, his memories are stolen, replaced with new ones. with fake ones. ones of a father who always travels for work and a mother who follows to keep an eye on his secretary, yet still somehow manages to keep a name for herself.

he does not question waking up in a bland, plaid room. no emotion, no personality in the space. it is normal to him. it is all he knows. this is steve’s room. it always has been.

[arelliann]

Project 007 for @steddiebang2024 written by the amazing @blipblot who you can find on x/twitter, stay tuned for Sept/Oct!

Summary

When Chrissy Cunningham is murdered in the small town of Hawkins, Colorado, all signs point to known cattle thief Eddie Munson. With a hefty bounty placed on his head, he high tails it out to the wild prairies of Kansas to hide and escape the gallows. Unluckily for him, the recently disgraced heir to the Harrington Cattle Company manages to find him anyway. Steve Harrington intends to drag Eddie back kicking and screaming if he has to, hellbent on collecting the bounty for mysterious reasons. Together they make the long journey back home, arguing and fighting the entire way while trying not to fall in love.

Content Warnings: Violence typically associated with a Western novel/movie, uses of guns, Steve has shitty parents

Tags: Alternate Universe, Slow burn, Enemies to Lovers, Western Au, Angst with a happy ending, Bounty Hunter! Steve Harrington, Cattle Thief! Eddie Munson, Horse Girl Steve Harrington, Platonic Stobin

[atimeofyourlife]

This was the last place Hopper wanted to be. He wanted the last four or five days to have not happened, to be home at the cabin, safe, with El. Not having anything major to worry about.

But the Upside Down had reared its ugly head again. The monsters out stalking Hawkins, people dying because of it. Whatever it was infecting Will Byers. El being known again, at least by their small group, and closing the gate, hopefully for good this time.

Everything felt too reminiscent of the year before. Right down to how he was sat in the hospital waiting for news on a kid that could have died. But this time, it wasn't the Upside Down that had caused the hospitalization, and he wasn't just sitting in the waiting room to hear about it.

Instead, he was acting as the responsible adult, at least until someone could get hold of Steve's parents. He didn't hold out much hope for that, as since he'd taken the role of Chief, the Harringtons had toed the line of what could be considered neglectful parenting, being around just enough that it would be too difficult to prove considering Steve was always well dressed and clean and always seemed to have enough food.

He needed to be there for the kid, but wanted to be anywhere else, having seen more than his fair share of kids unconscious in a hospital bed. Part of him wanted to find an excuse to leave, but he knew El was safe with Joyce, the other kids had been directed home with thin excuses as to what had been going on, and he had radioed into the station to get whoever was on duty to be on the lookout for that Hargrove kid. But he knew he couldn't leave, the hospital was where he was needed the most at that point. Sometimes in a chair in the room with the kid, sometimes waiting outside as the doctors and nurses worked.

He zoned out until the doctor addressed him directly, by name.

"I don't even know what to make of this, Jim. I- We know the kid's adopted, it's in his notes for family history. But we don't know if this was his parents or from before. We had to remove his watch, and it-it's like he's been branded-"

The doctor did continue, but Hopper didn't process anything else that was said. There was only one other kid he knew of that had been branded, and it couldn't be like that. Could it?

"Can I see it?" Hopper asked, needing to know the truth about it.

The doctor replied in the affirmative, reaching for Steve's left arm. He turned it over slowly, to not disrupt the wires. And, shit.

Hopper knew instantly that it was going to be one hell of a conversation once Steve was coherent enough to have it, and there would be some kind of fallout from it.

Because there in black ink standing out as clear as day against the pale skin of Steve's inner wrist, right where his watchstrap would usually sit, was a marking Hopper knew too well, he'd become so acquainted with one that was nearly identical.

007.

just a little idea for an experiment steve reveal fic, that I honestly have no idea how to write or finish. But I love Steve as a lab kid so much.

[roanofarcc]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER FIFTY NINE → THE BEGINNING OF THE END

summary: steve harrington x oc

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 4.9K || masterlist || ocs moodboard

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

previous chapter ← → next chapter

TAG LIST. @sattlersquarry, @two-sides-samecoin, @leptitlu

Ellie Torres was tired. Her sneakers were ruined with mud and her skin was peppered with itchy bug bites, but she couldn’t reach to scratch them because her arms were wrapped around the neck of a man. He was a nice man, taller than her dad and with a head of white hair. Ellie rested her cheek against his shoulder as he carried her down a very long hallway. Her eyes tried to flutter close, but the overhead lights were too bright for her to fall asleep, and they hurt her head. 

The nice man said he would help her find her mom and dad. Ellie hoped she wouldn’t be in too much trouble. She had a habit of wandering off, especially when something bright and colorful caught her eye. She had never been scared of the woods before, but after she lost her way in search of some wildflowers to bring back to her mom and the sky faded from blue to black, Ellie suddenly became very scared. But as she wandered, she remembered the last time she slipped out of her mom’s sight at the grocery store. Her mom had found her a couple of minutes later and pressed kisses to her plump cheeks. It would be just like that, she thought. The nice man would call her mom, and she’d come, kiss her cheeks, and take her home. And Ellie would promise to never, ever run off again.

The hallway began to look more and more fuzzy as her eyes dropped, but the man kept walking. They traveled deeper into the building and she grew sleepier. She was certain that she’d wake up in her own bed and it would be like that whole night never happened. 

However, Ellie was jolted awake when the nice man sat her down on an uncomfortable bed. Her tired eyes strained themselves to stay open and she pouted her lip in protest, muttering confused mumbles that no one listened to. She tried to sit up, but hands roughly grabbed her bony shoulders and forced her back against the bed. 

“Mommy? Daddy?” she whined, weakly reaching out for her parents as if they were in the room with her. The nice man was gone and replaced with strangers. That bad feeling that turned in her gut back inside the woods resurfaced. Tears stung her pale brown eyes as she desperately tried to fight back against the many people hovering over her, but they were so much bigger than she was. They placed something over her nose and mouth and kept her shoulders pinned down as she breathed frantically. She was hit hard with a wave of sleepiness. Her arms and legs felt heavy, dropping their fight as her eyes forced themselves shut.

She woke up what felt like days later, with the number seven tattooed on her wrist. It didn’t take long for her to forget who Ellie Torres was, and it didn’t take long for her to react to the wires strapped to her freshly shaved head or the colored IVs stuck in her veins. With bloody noses and glowing fingers, Ellie was washed away, down the drains of Hawkins National Laboratory. Her mind was a blank slate that stopped calling out for mom and dad to rescue her.

She became 007, who didn’t remember, 

But she was starting to. 

It made no sense to Sunshine. She knew her mind was a tricky minefield. Her brain wanted to protect her, that was what Dr. Owens had told her. It took a lot of the bad memories, not all but most, and tried to bury them down deep in an effort to help her heal. All of the trauma she had endured was smashed into pieces that only visited her sometimes, in doses she could handle without going mad. 

Time and distance from the Lab helped, even if some of those memories were unfairly replaced by rows of pointed teeth and monsters with slimy skin. But the point was, that Sunshine had a handle on her memories and how she dealt with them. Sometimes they would creep out when she slept or found herself in situations too similar to ones she had been in inside the Lab, but it was manageable for the most part. 

After the awful showdown at Starcourt, Sunshine tried to move on with life as normally as she could. Her worries regarding the Russians were quelled and the Mind Flayer died. Even the photographs taken of her at the mall were supposedly “taken care of” according to Dr. Owens. She didn’t fully trust the man, but she trusted him enough to believe him; that, and she couldn’t spend the rest of her life in a worry-sick bubble. It was exhausting and all she wanted was to live her life as normally as she could and put her focus on the daunting but exciting world of high school. 

But, something was wrong with her as of late, and she traced it back to that night at Starcourt. She didn’t know exactly what happened, but since that night, memories had clawed their way out of their shallow graves to the forefront of her mind and drenched her in a never-ending series of headaches. She was forced to remember more than she ever wanted to. Even the little things that held no significance came back to her, and it screwed with her head. 

The smell of sterile rooms was stuck in her nose and the anxiety of spiraling into fits of memories consumed her. It would happen out of the blue, not just at night when she closed her eyes. Memories came back for no reason or without anything to trigger them. 

Like that afternoon, seated in math class with her chin resting in her palm. Her eyes averted to the window as she became lost in a daze the first time she met Dr. Brenner. His promise of finding her parents rang in her ears. Lies. The cold betrayal sunk into her skin like teeth. She tried not to get too swept away in the current of her memories, but they raged in waves against her skull. 

She didn’t understand what correlation there was between her over-using her abilities and the resurgence of memories bombarding her brain. The headaches and dizzy spells she had gotten used to had been almost constant since that night. Heal was a complicated process with no real cure, but remembering all the way back to her first night at the Lab was a weird side-effect. How badly had she rattled things around inside her head? She had been cleared by Dr. Owens and his team, but she felt far from in the clear. 

“Miss Torres.” The stern voice of her nightmarish math teacher broke through her thoughts, startling her. She snapped her attention in his direction. “Is there something outside more important than my lesson?” Sunshine felt her face flush as snickers from her classmates echoed from behind her. 

“No, Sir,” she said, sinking down in her chair to make herself smaller. 

He hummed in response and was about to resume his lesson before he did a double-take in her direction. His eye widened slightly, and he snapped his fingers toward the student seated closest to his desk. “Oh, uh, Munson! Pass that box of tissues back to Miss Torres.” 

Confused, Sunshine parted her lips to ask why, but then she tasted blood on her tongue, dripping from her nose. The students in her row passed back the box and she quickly pulled a couple before holding them to her bloody nose. Kids were whispering all around her in confused murmurs. 

“Head to the nurse,” the teacher said. “Take your things and try not to bleed on my floor.” 

A couple of desks over, Tamera Willow nearly jumped up. “I’ll walk her!” 

“I think she can walk herself.” 

“My little brother gets nosebleeds all of the time,” Tamera said, talking quickly. “They make him super dizzy. What if she falls and, like, hits her head or something? Then, that’s kind of all your fault.” 

The teacher huffed and rolled his eyes but agreed. Tamera quickly grabbed her books before rushing over to take Sunshine’s too. They said nothing as they left the room. The tissue was completely soaked with blood and her head felt fuzzy, as if always did. The pain was similar to when she used her abilities, but she hadn’t. Her head was sore, like a healing bruise that kept being hit. 

Once they were a couple of classrooms away, Sunshine’s vision blurred for a moment and her swayed slightly. Tamera grabbed her arm to steady her. “Shit, do you want me to go grab the nurse while you sit down?” 

Sunshine forced her eyes back open and shook her head. The fuzziness cleared just a little as she sucked in a deep breath. “No, I’m fine.” She pulled the tissue away and sighed at the blood coating her fingers. “I’m just going to clean up. You can go back to class.” 

“I’ll come with you. Just in case you do, like, pass out,” she insisted, but Sunshine didn’t know why. Ever since Starcourt, she hadn’t spoken to Tamera or Calum. They had been thoroughly lectured about their snooping and withholding government property. Calum had moved to Indy with his mother and Tamera almost seemed to have been avoiding Sunshine until that moment. She had gotten closer to Robin, but always made up some excuse to leave when Sunshine came around. 

In the girls’ bathroom, Sunshine wet a paper towel and cleaned the blood from her nose. A tiredness fell over her shoulders, but she still had half the school day to go. The memories exhausted her. Maybe when she had fought the Mind Flayer, she had knocked loose whatever helped hold the memories back. But that didn’t explain why her nose bled or her head hurt. 

Sunshine leaned over the sink and hung her head. The Gate was closed for the second time around, but nothing seemed to be settling down. Hawkins felt stuck in a state of grief and confusion while Sunshine and her group were trying to heal much larger wounds. 

“I want to apologize,” Tamera said, suddenly. Sunshine looked at her through the mirror. “I’m sorry for everything, especially the way we acted. We shouldn’t have shoved all of that in your face that night when you were clearly in the middle of something. We just…” she trailed off with a sigh, rubbing her dark eyes with her knuckles. “Cal wanted answers, and I was so sick of running around trying to help him. I wanted him to figure out where his dad was, so he’d just stop. He’s stubborn, really stubborn. And I couldn’t let him do any of them on his own, especially after we found that file. We shouldn’t have looked into it. We were just too curious and severely underestimated how big everything actually was.” 

Wadding up another blooded paper towel, she tossed it into the trash before turning around to face Tamera. She saw the guilt written on her face and the nervousness in her hands that played with the hem of her shirt. 

“I get it. He wanted to find his dad. I’m sorry things turned out the way they did.” It wasn’t Calum’s fault who his father was, or what he had done. She still felt uneasy about it, but Calum no longer being in town helped her. He was just a kid, but he had no idea what he was defending his father from. She wished he and Tamera hadn’t gotten involved and dropped into their mess, but it was too late for that. 

“Nothing went how I thought it would,” Tamera admitted. “I’m still processing it, I guess. That was the craziest shit ever.” Sunshine nodded in agreement. “And don’t get me wrong, that was the most terrifying situation I’ve ever been in, and I didn’t even see the monster-thing, but in a really morbid way, it was kind of cool. Obviously not the people dying or anything like that, but you were cool. Like, uh, your whole situation.” She gestured to Sunshine’s hands with a sheepish smile. 

“Thanks,” Sunshine said. She brushed her hand under her nose and pulled it away clean, thankfully. “I think we got off on the wrong hand.” Tamera tilted her head, a little confused before Sunshine corrected herself. “No. Uh, foot, I mean. We got off on the wrong foot.” 

Tamera chuckled. “Oh, you mean the fact that I’ve been helping my friend try to link you to his dad’s disappearance?” 

“Yeah,” Sunshine laughed. It was ridiculous, but they hadn’t been necessarily wrong about her connection to Calum’s father. “I’m not mad at you or Calum. I just wish you didn’t get yourself involved in our mess.” 

“No, you can be mad. We were stupid and couldn’t even fathom how far over our heads we were. We were pushy and assholes about the whole thing. Seriously, I don’t think sorry cuts it. If you wanted to yell at me or use your freaky magic on me, I’d totally understand.” 

“Oh, no. It’s not magic… never mind.” Sunshine shook her head leaving that as a conversation for a different time. “What if we just started over?” She liked Tamera, she really did. The girl was smart and funny. Hanging out with her while Steve worked at Scoops had been nice. 

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Really? You don’t have to do that.” 

“If I liked you when you were snooping around in my life behind my back, I think I’d like you even more if we were friends,” said Sunshine. “Besides, you’re in on our little secret now. So, you are officially, unofficially, a part of the team, like Robin.” 

Sunshine doubted their trouble was over forever, and she doubted Tamera and Calum would stay out of everything now that they knew the truth. It was better to have them apart of their oddly assembled group than working opposed to them, she supposed. 

Tamera hesitated before her shoulders relaxed slightly and a smile spread across her face. “I promise, no more snooping.” 

“I’ll hold you to it.” 

The bell rang and Tamera held her books closer to her chest. “I gotta get ready for band. Are you going to be okay with the whole bloody nose thing?” she asked. 

Sunshine waved her off. “Yeah. It happens sometimes.” Not like that, but Tamera didn’t need to know that there was something off with her “I’ll see you around.” 

With a nod, Tamera left, and Sunshine returned her gaze to the mirror, giving herself a hard look. She looked fine on the outside. The bruises around her neck and across her face had cleared up nicely and any scars she covered with light makeup. Bags were under her eyes, but she learned quickly that was typical high school fashion. To anyone who looked at her, she seemed like every other student at Hawkins High, but she wasn’t, and her classmates picked up on that too. 

They knew her mysterious past and confusing reappearance. She was the girl who came back to life. They knew she was off; they just couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that made her unlike them. And now she was the girl who got random nosebleeds in the middle of class. 

The longer she stared at herself in the mirror, the more disconnected she felt from her body. She blinked and pain flared up in her head once more, causing her to clutch the sides of the sink hard, riding out the dizziness. It passed quicker that time and her nose didn’t bleed, but she felt the ghost of hands clamped down on her wrists and Dr. Brenner holding her sleepy figure as he walked them down the Lab hallways. It made her skin crawl. 

The bathroom door was swung open with a little more force than necessary, startling Sunshine. She spun around and was met with a familiar face that made her relax instantly. “Nancy,” she breathed out. 

“There you are,” the brunette said with a huff, joining Sunshine at the counter of sinks. “People were saying your nose started gushing look in the middle of class. I thought that only happened when you use your…” Nancy trailed off, quickly looking at the row of unoccupied stalls. “Your powers?” 

“It does.” 

“But you weren’t using them in class, were you?” 

“No.” 

“But your nose was bleeding?” 

“Yes.” Nancy shot her an exasperated look, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know,” Sunshine said with a half-hearted shrug. “But it’s not a big deal. I’m still a little burnt out after everything, I guess. I’ve never done anything like that before and I think my head is still trying to recover.” 

Nancy was quiet for a moment, staring through Sunshine was an intense and scrutinizing gaze that only she had. “You said you were feeling better.” 

“I am, but these things are tricky. I don’t know exactly how to explain it, but I promise, I have everything under control.” Or she would, eventually. She just had to ride it out and hope her brain found itself back in place. “It’s one bloody nose. I’ve had a million before.” 

Nancy seemed to relax slightly at Sunshine words and began to fix her hair in the mirror. “As long as you’re sure, then I’ll drop it.” 

“I’m sure.” 

With a nod, Nancy switched gears. “In other news, aside from your bloody nose being the talk of the hour, the school is hosting a memorial service for what they’re calling The Tragedy of Starcourt. I’m supposed to cover it for the school paper, but it doesn’t feel right twisting the story so far from the truth and writing it off as a mall fire.”

Sunshine shrugged. “I think a mall fire is probably the best cover-up. It’s better than the truth.” 

“Is it?” Nancy turned to look at Sunshine. There wasn’t a challenging look in her eyes, she was genuinely asking. The truth provided closure, but knowing the people you loved were melted down, bones and all, to form a terrifying creature who wanted to take over the world, was deeply more unsettling than being lied to. 

“I think so. The truth isn’t always the best.” And remembering wasn’t always comforting and helpful, as Sunshine was experiencing. She started to prefer the time when there were gaps in her memories. She didn’t want to remember any of it, but her brain was force-feeding it to her. She didn’t think the people of Hawkins could handle the idea of monsters existing. 

However, Nancy seemed unsure. “Watering down the truth can only go so far.” 

Sunshine shoved her hands in the pockets of her sweater and opened her mouth to say something but stopped when her fingers grasped something balled up in the pocket. Confused, she pulled it out to revel a piece of paper, one that she didn’t remember putting in there. She unfolded it and smoothed out the edges to reveal a small drawing that was slightly smudged. It was a drawing of a clock, the outline of an old grandfather clock. It was the same drawing that Luke had given her that night at Starcourt, but she didn’t remember keeping it. 

Another headache came on, but it stayed as a dull pulse behind her eyes and was more annoying than painful. She traced the clock slowly, methodically, thinking.

“What is that?” Nancy asked, but Sunshine was swept up in her thoughts. She felt stuck, frozen almost. A single drop of blood landed on the picture, soaking through the thin and worn sheet, and falling from her nose. 

Luke’s voice rang out in her ears. “I think there’s something wrong with me.” 

So did El’s cries when the reality of her abilities being gone hit her with full force. “They’re broken! I’m broken!” 

☀☀☀

He should have called home that night. He felt the phone on his desk draw him in like a magnet, pulling him but he resisted because he knew if he picked up the phone the frustrated tone of his wife’s voice would ring in his ears the rest of the night. She’d tell him there were leftovers in the fridge, his son was already in bed, and that she had an early morning appointment at the hair salon, so he needed to be quiet when he finally decided to come home for the night. He sighed in response, tell her he loved her, and that he would make it up to her the following Friday that he was off. But, like always, he’d forget and get wrapped up in some emergency at work and she wouldn’t bring it up. 

Ryan Miller thought that night would be like any other; he’d finish up a file of paperwork on his desk and tests that needed to be greenlit, and then he’d stumble home too late to eat a proper meal without getting heartburn. So, he’d save dinner for breakfast and mix coffee with pork chops, which would make his son scrunch up his nose and tell him he was disgusting. Then, Ryan would leave for work again, watch bony fingers flex behind glass panels and disobey every law of science, and he’d try to ignore the bitter screams that rattled the walls before they were quieted. 

He wanted to make a world full of the impossible for his son. He wanted Calum Miller to know that the extraordinary was not out of reach if he worked hard. In order to pave the way for his son to succeed and understand that anything he dreamt up could be created with hard work. It was for that reason that he never objected to the lengths his partner went to with hopes of achieving that idea. 

To make the world better, and more promising for his son, he aided and abetted in prying newborns from disoriented mother’s arms. He didn’t falter when twin bundles of infants were found abandoned on church steps, in need of a home that they could provide, in a sense. He turned his head when little girls got lost in the woods and show up at the Lab perimeters because maybe that was the way things were supposed go. All of their parents were careless. Mothers not in their right minds, fathers who believed God would give his twins the life he couldn’t, and parents who didn’t pay enough attention to where their daughter wandered.

The children were to be used for a greater purpose than live some miserable lives in unhappy homes or die in the woods. Ryan kept reminding himself of that when their cries rang out, when their blood was washed off white tiled floors, and when their numbers were slashed down to two. They were doing the right thing, be believed. They were doing the right thing. They were. They were. He promised that they were. 

“This is your fault,” Martin Brenner seethed. He was losing his composure and Ryan had to admit, it was a pleasant sight to see someone so polished, so put together, begin to crumble. 

“My fault?” Ryan scoffed as he scraped his handcuffs against the metal tabletop. The room was bright and cold, and he saw his reflection in the one-way mirror stare back at him. The tables had turned, he supposed. Or maybe he had always been expendable. “How is this my fault?” 

Martin slammed his hands down on the table, but Ryan didn’t flinch; alarms still rang in his ears. “You let them go! You let them escape!” 

“Do you have any idea the kind of mess we were in the second someone outside finds them and connects them back to the children they really are?” They could only erase so much of each child who passed through the Lab. They didn’t remember, but someone would. Ryan shook his head. “I never wanted this to happen. They were never supposed to leave. You better find them, Doctor, because I’m not going down with this ship.” He had a wife and a son. He had done everything right. He was so careful. Why was this his punishment? 

Martin lowered himself to Ryan’s seated height and stared at him with red-hot anger that sat nestled behind cold-dead eyes. “You’ve always been weak, Dr. Miller. Spineless. A coward who choose to stay in his office and not make contact with the children unless absolutely necessary. And why? Because they remind you of your son? Because you feel guilty?” Ryan clenched his jaw but said nothing. “Guilty enough to allow our last two experiments loose at the worst time imaginable. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” 

“The worst time imaginable?” Ryan laughed dryly. “You mean your little discovery, oozing from the sublevel? Are you talking about the hole that your pet project tore open and how it's spreading, festering, and killing? Is that what you mean, Doctor?” Martin turned around, facing the mirror in a lame attempt to compose himself. He rubbed his chin as Ryan grew more frustrated. “I told you there was something wrong with her. I told you that Eleven-” 

“Is gone. That is what I’m worried about.” Martin cut him off. “But she and Seven couldn’t have gotten far. I have a team searching the woods and surrounding areas tonight. And we’re monitoring all phone calls within Hawkins. We will find them and leave no loose ends.” Their thread was unraveling. Two lost girls, two experiments, on the run. Ryan wanted to believe that there was no way two children could demolish everything they built, but the damage they had caused was already irreversible. He didn’t know exactly what he and Martin Brenner had created or how it was Subjects Seven and Eleven who were the last ones standing, but he knew one thing for certain: nothing would come to a pleasant end. 

A lonely diner off the interstate sat almost empty at that time of night. Ryan Miller stared out the window at the night sky while his piece of pie grew soggy from melted ice cream. He fingered the photograph hidden in his pocket, feeling the weight of it grow heavier as each day passed. There were bags under his eyes and a single bag of belongings at his side. The blond hair that once covered his head was outgrown down to his chin, where he had cut it off with dull scissors and dyed dark brown in a gas station bathroom in Ohio. The roundness of his cheeks and straightness of his shoulders disappeared, making him almost unrecognizable. Almost.

“Dr. Miller,” a voice called out, startling Ryan out of his skin. He snapped his head over his shoulder and dugs his chewed-down fingernails into the skin of his palms. “You’re a hard man to track down, you know?” 

A man slid into the booth across from Ryan before he flagged down the only waitress on duty. She was young, probably a year or two older than his son, with red hair and tired but youthful eyes. She put on a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen, leaving the men alone in the front of the diner. Neither one said anything until their mugs were refilled with steaming coffee.

Outside the front door stood two men with their arms crossed, blocking the entrance. Ryan sank into the booth and scowled. “Let’s get this over with already. You here to arrest me?” 

The man shrugged. “Depends,” he said, pouring cream and sugar into his mug and stirring it slowly. “I don’t know how people drink his stuff black. Doesn’t that take the enjoyment out of coffee?” 

“What do you want?” 

“Do you know who I am?” the man asked, and Ryan tried not to let his rising panic show on his face. 

“Yes,” he replied. 

“Good.” There was a beat, and Ryan heard the sizzle of the grill from the kitchen, even though there was no one else to serve. “Do you know why I’m here?” 

“No.”

The man wrapped his hands around the mug and leaned against the table, lowering his voice. “I have a proposition for you, one that could potentially get you back in good graces, bury some hatches, and maybe, if you’re lucky, get a one-way ticket back home.” 

Ryan shook his head, but desperation pounded in his heart. He was a broken man, that he’d admit. He wanted, more than anything, to go home and beg on his hands and knees for forgiveness from his wife and son. He didn’t deserve a second chance, but he prayed every night they gave him one. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“You don’t have to, but it’s your choice. Either you come with me willingly, or we’ll have to make a scene. And I don’t really want to make a scene tonight. Do you, Doctor?” Ryan was silent, thinking. “You have a son. Nice kid. Real ambitious too. I think it’d do him some good to see his father again, don’t you?” 

Ryan sighed and slipped his hand back into his pocket, feeling the photograph once more. The air felt warmer and colder at the same time, causing him to shiver as sweat rolled down the back of his neck. Desperation painted him in a sick light. His gut twisted in knots, pulling and tugging him in another direction away from his running. He wanted some kind of salvation or an end. 

“What exactly do you have in mind, Dr. Owens?”

END OF SEASON 3

[sparkie96]

Chapter 10 of “007 (Another Experiment Steve AU)” : A Conflict of Interest” Now Live

Eddie Munson didn’t consider himself a troublemaker by any means necessary, despite his rebellious behavior and style. He wasn’t crazy about fitting in, but at the same time, he tried to keep his nose down and stay out of trouble. So, when he came out of his D&D Meeting, he didn’t expect to get grabbed by Lonnie Byers and asked about Johnny Byers or Steve Harrington. He knew about Jonathan, but he wasn’t cool with the King of Hawkins High.

But let’s just say it was odd that Jonathan’s old man was looking for Harrington, a teenager who was Eddie’s age. Had this been about that fight that had happened between Harrington and Jonathan downtown over Nancy friggin Wheeler? Jonathan had won that fight, but maybe ol’ Lonnie Byers was looking for an additional pound of flesh?

Eddie didn’t know, and he sure as hell didn’t want to know as the man held a gun on him, telling Eddie to open up the library…which Eddie didn’t have any means of doing so. His uncle did, but he didn’t know where the man was at the moment. Hopefully, he was anywhere but here.

He felt the barrel of the gun press harder into his back through the material of his shirt and jean vest, “Well, you gonna open the door or what?” Lonnie growled behind him, Eddie shaking even more.

“Look, man, whatever or whoever you’re looking for probably isn’t here.” Eddie said, hands raised higher by his head, “So…maybe you should let me go and…” He heard a click of what he presumed was the safety being turned off before Eddie cursed, “Shit! Okay! Okay! Fine! Gimme a minute, will ya?”

Shit, whatever was in here better have been worth it because Eddie was pretty damn close to pissing himself. What the fuck was even in here anyway? And why was the door locked? The librarians never locked the doors. Taking off his vest, Eddie wrapped it around one of his arms before throwing it into the window with all his might in an attempt to break one of the windows.

[steve-wheeler]

I have to rec this fic, it’s one of the most well written Steve-centric fics I’ve ever read. Everyone is written in-character, but a bit more fleshed out than in canon. It does stick close to the canon story, with some divergences, but it’s a fic more focused on the characters than plot (or, that’s at least my interpretation as a reader).

It’s a long fic, currently at 486k words and 77 chapters (with updates every Sunday), but you’ll be glad for its length. since it’s hard to put down once you’ve started reading😅

Spoilers ahead:

-Steve as 007, he escapes from the lab in 1978, and uses his powers on the Harringtons

-Messy Harrington family dynamic

- Stancy being adorable, lovely, messy, complicated, heartbreaking… they break up, but they are the intended endgame pairing.

-Steve who truly loves swimming, no secret disdain for sports for this Steve

-Steve and El (+Kali!) being siblings

-Robin and Steve being platonic soulmates, though not until the summer of 1985. It does take a while to get to them, but it’s so worth it.

-Steve being clever, and using people’s preconceptions about his smarts to his advantage

-Characters are held accountable for their actions… this is the first fic I’ve seen where someone calls out Hopper on selling out El to Brenner.

[lunartadpole]

Been watching old James Bond films and couldn't get his out of my head.

007!Eddie x Bond Girl!Steve

Like, Eddie Munson, cocky, sarcastic, best agent in the CIA's Double-Oh devision, founded and run by Nancy Wheeler, aka Agent N, is shipped off to a seaside town in Italy to investigate a corrupt but very rich business man, rumoured to be apart of the arch nemesis to the Double-Oh devision, an organisation named V.E.C.N.A, for his suspected involvement in stealing and storing a weapon of mass destruction. Its a simple mission, a piece of cake for our 007

But things start to get a bit complicated when Eddie gains an interest in local pretty boy, himbo, easily-capturable by the enemy, Steve Harrington. And things start to grow more than his usual on job hookups would.

Things get even more complicated when 007 discovers that Steve is the son of the corrupt but very rich business man and the 'weapon of mass destruction'? Yeah, it's a little girl with super powers.

Featuring Robin as Q, the quartermaster, Henry Creel as Number 1, head of V.E.C.N.A, El as the weapon, Nancy as the exasperated head of devision and Eddie and Steve as the strangers-to-friends-to-shityourworkingformyenemy-to-eventual-lovers

[hannahhook7744]

'Look closely, you will see! There's four of us (Just four of us)!' Au:

Summary: Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley are secretly twins.

Also the two of them along with Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins are also numbers.

Name(s):

Francine.

Franny.

(First Replacement) 006.

Birth year:

1960.

Power(s):

Precognition.

Name(s):

Ricky.

(Original) 003.

Birth year:

1960.

Power(s):

Emotion manipulation.

Name(s):

Jamie.

009.

Birth year:

1969.

Power(s):

Heat Generation.

Name(s):

Marcy.

009.5.

Birth year:

1969.

Power(s):

None.

Name(s):

Thomas Beauregard Hagan.

Tommy.

(Original) 005.

Birth year:

1966.

Power(s):

Super Strength.

Partially Invulnerability.

Name(s):

Caroline Annalise Perkins.

Carol

(Original) 006.

Birth year:

1966.

Power(s):

Fire Generation.

Fire Manipulation.

Fire Resistance.

Name(s):

Stefano Richardo Harrington.

Steve.

(Original) 007.

Birth year:

1966.

Power(s):

Regenerative/Super Healing.

Repeated Restruction.

Name(s):

Robin Elizabeth Buckley.

007.5.

Birth year:

1966.

Power(s):

Telepathy.

Name(s):

Jane Ives.

Jane Hopper.

011.

Birth year:

1971.

Power(s):

Telekinesis.

Telepathy.

Name(s):

Kali Prasad.

Birth year:

1964.

Power(s):

Illusion Manipulation.

TOP ROW:

Jeanie Perkins. She's a nurse. Born in 1942.

Andrew 'Andy' Perkins. He's a news anchor. Born in 1942.

Linda Buckley. She's a language teacher. Born in 1940.

Francis 'Frank/Frankie' Buckley. He's a garbage man. Born in 1941.

BOTTOM ROW:

Norma Harrington. She's a lawyer working in the family's legal department. Born in 1940.

Richardo 'Richard' Harrington. Business Founder and Owner. Born in 1939.

Jolene Hagan. She's a waitress. Born in 1941.

Jackson 'Jack' Hagan. He's a truck driver. Born in 1939.

Here's another edit:

Their comfort toys/first ever toys:

[ohheyitslee]

king of the clouds | experiment steve harrington 

Hopper stands, hands splayed across the top of the table as he leaned forward, a harsh glare filtering across his face as he stares the teenager down in front of him.

"Son, you really need to watch what you're saying. You don't know-"

“Do not call me son.” Steve voice was tight, wheezing through clenched teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut. A shaking hand came up to pull the watch off his left wrist. “Eleven wasn’t the first and only kid to escape that lab.”

Hopper's face dropped as he tracked the movement, eyes widening as he took in the tattoo on the teen's wrist. The bold 007 stark against the thin skin off the boy's wrist. Wordlessly, Hopper stretched out a hand and encircled the wrist, pulling the boy closer to the desk as the Chief inspected the black numbers. 

Seven shifted nervously on his feet, wide eyes darting around the room as he steadfastly worked on breathing through the pressing feeling of the Chiefs anxiety snapping like a band around his lungs.

Hopper sighed, Sevens wrist falling from his grasp as the older man stood, pulling his uniform jacket off the back of the chair before stepping around the cluttered desk. “Let's go for a drive kid.” 

------

@imyelenasexual sorry this took a few days. will probably post a few more snippets from the story throughout the day. :))

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI I WILL HIT U WITH A CHAIR

Chapter 003: Best Buds

It’s BYOB (bring your own bud) night at Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club. With everyone under the influence, things start to get… a little complicated.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 8k

warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, brief smut, p in v sex, protected sex, implications that steve is a long boi voyeurism, marijuana use, alcohol use, sexual harassment, physical altercations, NSFW, talks of a daddy/master kink, stripping, pole dancing, mutual pining, flirting, mentions of previous sexual abuse, profanities

* AUTHORS NOTE AT END OF CHAPTER ❤️‍🔥 *

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

Chapter 002 recap

"Doing it for Max," you remind yourself while fixing your hair in the mirror in front of you.

You reach for your phone to see the amount of time that has transpired since the private show with Steve. But the clock wasn't your concern when your Home Screen lights up.

Your heart nearly sinks to the floor.

Billy Hargrove

1 Missed Call

Billy Hargrove iMessage: 1 message

You open it.

What the actual fuck.

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

Chapter 003

♡

“Hi I’m Hell, it’s nice to meet ya.”

“FUCK! Oh my god — fuck!”

Steve Harrington is definitely not a loser.

An assortment of mewls and profanities fill the hot air of Steve’s bedroom as he fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, the frame of his bed rattling to the speed of his deep, punishing thrusts.

It’s 7 AM.

Though you’re typically not an early riser, you’re more inclined to be if you were promised this type of treatment every day.

“Fuck!” you squeal again, knuckles sheet-white from how tightly you’re holding onto Steve’s linens. “Right there, Steve…”

Steve’s grip, meanwhile, rests at either side of your hips as he pistons himself further into your sopping, spongy heat. Too cock-drunk to even form a coherent sentence, you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head while you take his unforgiving length from behind.

“Yeah, you like that baby?” he coos. “You like how deep I feel inside of you?”

You nod. “Yes… yes…I-I love it.”

“Looks like I’m fucking you back to sleep again, aren’t I?”

“M—mhm,” you manage to purr, reaching for one of Steve’s hands to grab a hold of.

In fact you’re already seeing stars. Sex with Steve is an extravagant experience. Now that he’s comfortable in your presence, Steve spent all night performing for you, abusing your soaking cunt to the tempo of every song on his playlist, catering to your every need in the form of profound and agile strokes, exploring every inch of your body with his firm and knowledgable tongue, all while refusing to stop until you yourself were finished.

You chant his name aimlessly as he plows into you further, tucking a pillow above your head to protect you from any sharp wooden corners. Another thing Steve prioritizes as well? Your safety. All night it’s been your pleasure first before his own. Now you know why everyone in town calls him the King. 

“That’s it…” Steve praises you as you fall apart in front of him. He smacks you firmly across the ass. You whimper at the sensation, chasing your third orgasm of the hour by fucking him back, tossing your hips back onto him, not caring the slightest if it made you look desperate. You need his cock so bad. “That’s a good girl.”

CRASH!

Something falls from the bathroom at the end of the hall. A shampoo bottle maybe? It stuns you for a second, causing you to immediately reach for the top sheet to cover up your body. You listen for traces of his roommate’s presence.

“Uh…”

“Earthquake?” Steve jokes.

“Nope,” you smugly shake your head. “It’s just you.”

You rise from all fours to turn around and give Steve a quick kiss. Steve chuckles against your skin.

“Me? It’s a team effort, lady.”

“You’re right, it’s us.”

Steve wraps his arms around your waist and guides you back down onto the bed. Laying on your back now, you watch him as he spreads your legs apart. He smiles down at you as he lines himself up at your opening.

An impatient sigh escapes your mouth. He swoops down to silence you, planting a soft kiss onto your neck.

“Steve…” you whimper.

“I know, baby, I know,” he hushes you. “You’ll get it, just you wait.”

He continues to tease you, gliding his cock along the lining of your entrance. You bite your lip and shake your head, watching him as he glides, thrusting his tip in slowly before taking it back out once more. Then he slaps his cock against your puffy, glistening folds. Your whimpers grow louder.

“Are—” you lower your voice. “Are you sure we’re the only ones here?”

“Yeah,” Steve insists, mumbling against your ear. “The roomie’s with his sneaky link. We’re fine.”

“Birds of a feather,” you retort.

Steve flashes you a flirtatious glare. “I’d never keep you a secret.”

“Lies.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenges you.

What did he mean by that?

A gasp escapes your mouth before it’s even registered. Steve is inside once again, pounding into you with a pace so exhilarating, the room around you starts to blur. The little time you had to prepare leaves you both with a healthy amount of friction and resistance. You’re nearly screaming now as pressure builds between your hips and in your stomach, your pleas for more growing louder and louder with every pummeling thrust.

“If you call that keeping a secret, you’re pretty bad at it,” Steve kindly retorts, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck, beads of sweat dripping down his pomade-sculpted hair onto your breasts.

“Oh m-my fucking god,” you squeal breathlessly. You’re silenced by Steve’s fingers as they assert themselves into your mouth.

“Oh my fucking god is right, babydoll.”

He issues a delicate slap across your face. You bite your lip, gazing up at him with lust-filled eyes. Snarky King Steve is your favorite Steve.

“Keep going, Steve. Don’t fucking stop.”

Before you know it, he’s bending you like a pretzel, your legs at his shoulders, knees to the tip of your earlobes. Steve slams himself into you, excruciatingly fast and balls deep, all while his hand explores your mouth, then jaw, then find a home around your throat. Another delicate slap brushes across your face with his other hand, followed by a “Yeah, baby take it”, causing you to mewl even louder.

The sounds of skin slapping against each other begin to sound more wet with every thrust, the moans you two exude bounce off the walls as you fuck into each other. You feel your walls tighten at the same time his head starts to twitch.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet,” Steve huffs. “Do I feel that fucking good? Are you about to make a mess on me?”

“Yes,” you attempt to say. “I’m such a messy girl, Steve.”

“That you are,” he swoons, swooping down to plant kisses all over your face. “Messy. Dirty. Naughty. And all mine.”

Four more aggressive pumps into you and you’re both done for.

“Oh my god…”

“Fuck.”

“Holy shit.”

“Ohhh fuck.”

Giggles take the place of moans as you and Steve collapse onto one another. You two lay there in disbelief, then share another laugh followed by a high five.

“Good game,” Steve jests.

“Rematch later?” you wink.

Although Steve doesn’t answer, you know it’s a yes. As you roll over to drift off into a small recovery nap you feel another slap land on your ass, followed by the sound of the trusty rubber rolling off your partner’s cock.

“So fucking beautiful.”

——

9 AM

After care is essential for Steve. Lover boy loves to cuddle. He’s there when you wake up, arms snaked around you, with gleaming eyes and a rather itchy peach fuzz that you didn’t stumble upon until he was giving raspberries to your neck.

“You lasted longer this time,” you comment teasingly. You issue him a delicate boop on the nose.

“Yeah, cuz we’ve been doing it all night,” Steve tsks. “You caught me off guard the first time around, Hargrove.”

You pout. “Aww. Was I kicking you when you were already down?”

Steve pulls you to his chest, giving you a squeeze the further you lean into him. “You absolutely were, you devil woman.” He kisses your forehead and beams down at you with a smile.

“Good morning, by the way.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

So you two rinse up together, and Steve lets you borrow one of his t-shirts to parade around his luxury townhouse in. He did offer you some basketball shorts he had lying around on his couch, but you decide that hopefully, in just his shirt and your new lace black panties, it would entice him for round five.

Suddenly your phone buzzes. It’s Max.

Hey where r u?

You bite your fingernails as you contemplate a believable answer. Where could you possibly be if your supposed shift ended two hours ago?

Post shift mimosas with coworkers. Be back around noon.

You wait. Buzz.

As you should 🤪

You smile before exiting out of your conversation with Max. It vanishes quickly when you remember there’s still a text you haven’t responded to.

What the actual fuck.

It’s been a week now since Billy sent that text. And with him being the type to spam, it’s strange that he hasn’t called or texted again. Especially since it had been Max’s birthday.

You shudder, overwhelmed with a sense of panic yet again. In hopes of postponing reality to the next day, you plant your phone face down onto Steve’s bedside table. It all made you feel stupid. Like an infant who believed they were hiding just by closing their eyes.

You walk out into the hallway and find Steve in the kitchen, frantically trying to find you something to eat.

“We need to go shopping again,” Steve announces. “So the only choices right now are eggs, sausage, toast, cereal..and the Cuties over there.”

You make your way over to grab a tangerine while you browse the cereal section. 

“Well, I had sausage this morning,” you joke. “And a cutie. So I’ll go with eggs and toast please.”

“Coming right up. Sunny side?”

“Scrambled.”

“Anything for you.”

You claim a seat at the messy kitchen island, decorated by mountains of bills and guy stuff galore. As Steve is cooking, you sit and admire the man who Hawkins calls the King.

Steve tries. It shows in everything he does. Behind every positive attribute about the man, looms a cautionary energy accompanied by a sense of guilt. It’s almost if “King Steve” refuses to take up space. Something, or someone, made him this way. Made him so guarded and delicate, yet so willing to give and help.

Before you know it, Steve hands you your Shy Girl-tailored breakfast, fluffy golden eggs with golden buttered toast to match, served with a glass of orange juice on the side. You thank him and he nods, tossing a dish rag over his shoulder and walking to the sink to clean up. With how sweet Steve is with you in bed and on a friendship level, the sole idea of him makes you wonder what he’d be like — years from now — as his one real dream: a husband, a dad…

The sound of a toilet flushing jolts you back into focus. Both you and Steve freeze in place.

“Shit,” Steve sighs.

Roomie is home.

Steve quickly wipes his hands and darts to his room, scurrying to find a shirt to mask the hickeys you left on his chest. Meanwhile you scramble to the couch to find the basketball shorts you passed him up on earlier. You didn’t want to give his roommate the wrong impression, though you kind of feel like you did, screaming like a banshee because you thought no one was home.

You’re tunnel-visioned as you scan the couch for shorts. Let’s see… TV remote, no — football, no — random backpack and baseball cap —

Wait. Is that a Hellfire shirt?

Your eyes widen. It can’t be. Steve wouldn’t withhold such vital information from you, would he? Maybe Steve really likes supporting Eddie’s business.

But then you think about it. You really think about it.

You think about Steve’s comment he made as he was leaving Hellfire. "Yeah. I gotta get going now. I got laundry to put away at home."

At home.

“The roomie won't be home…”

The use of “the roomie” instead of “my roomie”. Typically “the” is only used if someone knows of the person being mentioned. At least that’s how you yourself word things anyway.

“The roomie’s with his sneaky link.”

Eddie’s lady friend. Eddie only goes to see her during the most ungodly hours because she’s a bartender.

You feel so stupid. For more reasons than one.

Eventually you find Steve’s basketball shorts and throw them on, running back to the kitchen island where you then try to play cool. You turn back to the scattered envelopes laying around the island — all addressed to an Edward Munson.

In the words of your twin brother, what the actual fuck.

“WOOO — Harrington!” a familiar sing-song voice echoes from down the hall. “You definitely don’t wanna go in there!”

You recognize that voice from anywhere.

Whistling sounds from the end of the narrow hall. Coming out of the bathroom was none other than your boss, dressed down in a black muscle tank that revealed his avant-garde black and white tattoos, and royal blue gym shorts. His hair was up in a messy half-bun, the loose curls that were too short tie up are a cluster of anarchy around his face.

You make it into Eddie’s periphery, but he doesn’t do a double take until he realizes it’s you.

“Oh hey!” he greets you, somewhat expressionless. “You on tonight?”

As if seeing you in his apartment is the most casual thing ever. 

You’re completely swamped with humiliation. It’s bad enough that Eddie practically heard you scream bloody murder, but now he knows exactly what you’re like in bed. He knows how you like to be handled. How embarrassingly cock-drunk you get when your partner hits the right spot. How pornographic and raunchy you act when you’re with the right person.

You’re also dressed like Adam Sandler. So there’s that.

It takes everything in you not to grab your stuff and leave. But it is that same ick in your body that keeps you glued onto the bar stool of the island.

“Y-yeah,” you huff. “Sure, I’ll work.”

“Totally should…” Eddie sings again. “Midweek is always popping. Everyone always wants a lil sumn sumn on Friday Junior-Junior.”

You study Eddie as he strides over to the fridge, insipid and unbothered. Tired, if anything. 

Steve comes out of his room with his own Hellfire shirt on, trying his best to keep his cool as he clears his throat. “I, uh… I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

“That makes the three of us,” Eddie laughs dryly as he rummages through the fridge. “But here I am…”

You observe him as he hums along to a random tune, scanning the fridge for something quick and easy. He settles for what looks like coffee creamer, which brings you back to the time that Dustin said Eddie operates on coffee and an empty stomach. 

You try to focus on something else. Anything. Eyes-a-wandering, you catch sight of Steve’s old championship trophies from his high school swim meets, pictures of him and his boujee ass family at TopGolf, pictures of him with old friends at an actual golf course, glass cups from breweries all around Indiana and The States, and the expensive smart electronics that ornamented the place.

But not a single trace of Eddie and his life or family. The mystery of him sucks you in a little more.

Eddie stalks towards you, extending an arm across to pick up the bills waiting for him on the table. The world stops for a moment.

“Sorry for the mess,” Eddie apologizes. “The maid took the night off.”

An inferno pools at your cheeks. Was the ‘mess’ remark a jab towards you? Your thighs clench when the flashbacks of morning sex with Steve replay in your head. “Are you about to make a mess on me?”

“You’re fine,” you manage to say.

Eddie proceeds to pour himself a drip coffee then douses it in an unreasonable amount of hazelnut creamer.

You cringe at the sight. Sometimes a crush is just a lack of information.

Steve attempts to speak to serve as a filler for awkward tension, but you beat him to it.

“S-”

"So," you press. "How are things with the lady friend?"

Eddie makes a sour face. "Called it off," he shrugs. "Well, she did."

Your ears slightly perk up.

You feign a tone of dismay. "Oh no! What happened?”

"Guess our lifestyles don't mesh well with one another,” Eddie rolls his eyes, as if he knew it was some sort of excuse. He draws on about the ordeal. “She doesn't like that I'm always at work. I can only see her in the early hours of the morning, and with the amount of paperwork I have to do, I’d honestly rather be spending my free time sleeping or playing video games."

"Well, you should stop working so much,” Steve suggests. “It could help balance shit out more.”

Eddie snaps his neck at Steve.

"You think I didn't think about that already?" he scowls through gritted teeth. "It’s like the moment Eddie's gone, everyone forgets how to do their jobs. I always gotta come in to make sure they’re all staying on task.”

He turns to you.

“Take Mike for instance,” he explains. “Fucking chickenwithhisheadcutoff. Lights are on, but nobody’s home.”

You laugh.

“He was the one who forgot to take inventory on the 10th and 11th,” Eddie pops a scoop full of Honey Combs into his mouth. “Yet he was asking me if he could bring his girlfriend to the club.”

“Ohh,” is all you can say.

“I don’t mind all that lovey dovey shit,” Eddie mutters between bites. “But if it’s gonna distract him from working, that’s where there’s a problem.”

“Totally reasonable dude,” you agree.

“Yeah, Mike gets really distracted when El’s around,” Steve pitches in.

Eddie nods. “Ed’s got his own set of rules for a reason. The Munson Doctrine is a byproduct of when all the things that can possibly go wrong, have gone wrong.”

You watch Eddie stroll towards the windows by the balcony and prop them open, an indicator that he’s about to smoke. He grabs a tiny bowl that he seemed to know was laying around and loads it up with bud. He lights up and takes several large hits.

“So what’s everyone’s plans for tonight?” Eddie questions eyes darting between you both.

You and Steve didn’t think that far.

“Not too sure yet,” Steve answers for you two. “I do know we gotta go shopping again.”

“Tell me about it,” Eddie nods towards the cereal. “Tired of eating hamster food every morning.”

Eddie takes another hit, coughing away the excess like a madman.

“I’m hosting another BYOB night at Hellfire with the frens again,” Eddie continues once he calms down. “Been a minute. You should swing by.”

“Bring your own booze?” you ask.

“Getting warmer.” Eddie replies.

“Beer?”

“Cooler now.”

“Then what?”

“Bud,” Eddie replies raspily, nodding at his own amusement. “We’re still a red state, so we get our shit from Illinois. BYOB is specifically for the party. Edibles only, for obvious reasons. Still a fun time though.”

“Cross-faded on a random Tuesday, what’s more enticing than that?” Steve says. You’re not sure if he’s sarcastic or not.

“Exactly, Harrington!” Eddie hollers. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Is Nance gonna be there?”

Record scratch. Eddie looks at Steve like he asked a dumb question.

“She works there.”

“You know what I mean,” Steve glares at Ed.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Is Nancy gonna be at the table? No, probably not. You know her. Total opposite of Mike. When she’s at work, she’s at work.”

“Yeah...” Steve mutters with a sigh. “Alright, fine. I’ll think about it. What else ya doing today before this?”

Eddie explains that after paperwork and grocery shopping, he plans to go over to Chrissy’s place to look at her car. It causes your heart to flutter. Business owner, manager, cook, music fanatic, and mechanic? Mr. Jack-of-All-Trades after your heart again.

Eddie shakes his head, evidently overwhelmed with all the responsibilities on his lap. “Hellfire would crash and burn without Cherry.”

“Wow, you do so much,” you comment, attempting to uplift him. He grins at your remark. You decide keep going. “Anything you can’t do?”

You feel Steve stare between you both, then clear his throat as he paces around the kitchen.

“Stop it,” Eddie chuckles, growing slightly flustered with his pink-tainted cheeks. “Kinda true though. I do everything and anything.”

“Yeah, especially for Chrissy Cunningham,” Steve jeers.

“That’s also true,” Eddie shrugs, attempting to conceal his now fully flustered face. “We done now?”

“We are actually,” Steve says. “Lucky for you, I gotta go get ready.”

Steve shoots you a wink and then excuses himself back to his room. Meanwhile, it’s just you and the other man you have a burning crush on.

Something shifts when Steve disappears. To shake off the unknown feeling that’s mingling in the air, you make your way over to the fridge. You hope that pretending to be busy excuses you from another conversation.

But before you know it, you feel Eddie’s stern — and marijuana-laced — breath on you just moments later. The torment is never ending.

The moment you turn, you’re met with Eddie’s big brown eyes. He speaks first.

“I was joking, you know.”

Whatever banter that was being exchanged earlier has now switched off. The pitch of Eddie’s voice has dropped a few frequencies, and that act alone captures your attention. Shooting your gaze towards him, your brow lifts.

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to work tonight,” he elaborates shoving his hands into his pockets. “We’re well staffed. There’s a seat for you at the table… if you’d like to come with.”

“I’m your friend?”

“I thought it was clear.”

“You haven’t even taken me to lunch yet.”

“You haven’t given me the chance.”

Fair play, Munson. Eddie waits for you to talk. You study your superior as he studies you, his chocolate eyes slowly becoming eclipsed by the widening of his jet black pupils. Hunger was unknown feeling that was mingling. It’s burning in your stomach now. Its essence that lingered between you both is the only thing keeping you two from standing any closer.

“Cross faded on a Tuesday,” you repeat Steve’s sentiment. “Sounds like a Friday ordeal.”

“Well when you work as much as I do, you try to make every day feel like Friday.”

Oh this man is stressed stressed. Something in Eddie’s hopeful stare convinces you that a simple “yes” would make him a little happier about tonight. But you don’t want to seem too into it.

“I’ll think about it,” you tease.

“Ah, come on…” Eddie tuts. “Steve will be there.”

You blush.

“And your ol’ boss,” Eddie ominously adds, propping his shoulder against the fridge as he leans. “If that counts for anything.”

Another loose strand of hair from his bun falls across his face. He shakes it away with a cinematic nod. You feel stupid for falling for your Eddie’s natural charisma. He does it with everybody, you remind yourself. It’s what makes him a good business man. You aren’t anything special.

“Will there be wings?” you decide to deal the inside joke you share.

“Flats only,” Eddie insists, feeding into it.

“Now that sounds like a good time.”

“Always is, sweetheart,” Eddie grins. “Can’t wait for you to experience it.”

Before he too excuses himself, Eddie hugs you, doing the verbal kiss on the side of your cheek once more before letting go. It never fails to leave you in a puddle.

No rizz, my ass Dustin, you think to yourself.

“See you there then, gorgeous?”

“You sure will.”

And just as quickly as Eddie disappears, Steve returns, sporting a basic grey Patagonia tee and khaki colored Dickies. His sunglasses dangle from the center collar of his shirt, his green and yellow “Camp Know Where” dad hat clipped onto the same belt loop that housed the keys to his BMW.

He meets you halfway by the island, giving you a soft kiss once more.

“I’ll let you hold onto that shirt,” he says. “It looks good on you.”

“Why thank you,” you reply. “Smells just like you too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck just as he does your waist before they explore the birthmark region of your lower back. Your breath hitches.

“I should probably stop,” Steve bites his lip. “I gotta walk you to your car.”

“I know, maybe next time,” you frown. “Also, you didn’t tell me Eddie’s your roommate.”

Steve’s face falters slightly. “I… didn’t think it’d matter.”

He’s right. Ultimately it didn’t matter. If you didn’t shut up, you’d tell right on yourself.

“I know!” you end up saying way too enthusiastically. “It’s just that he, uh, heard everything.”

Steve dismisses it. “Let him,” he says. “I’m sure he hears and sees it all at the club anyways.”

Steve bites the bullet and gives your ass cheeks a tight squeeze. “Besides, he can watch if he’d like. We’ll give him a little show…”

Your breathing scatters again, to which you give Steve a playful nudge.

“You’re unbelievable.That’s where your dirty little mind goes?”

“What can I say?” King Steve smirks, forehead pressed against yours now. “I’m a voyeur.”

“Clearly,” you wink.

Birds of a feather. As much as you didn’t want it to, your mind wanders back to Eddie and how he is most likely a voyeur too. Why else would Hellfire be an asset of his?

The entire commute home is spent fantasizing about both Steve and Eddie. You have absolutely no idea what you're doing and what to do in this situation. Would this even be considered a triangle considering how casual everything appears to be?

With everything unknown there is one thing is for sure: tonight, both of them are getting some kind of show from you.

—————————————————

‘Friday Junior Junior’ is relatively staffed.

Mike and Dustin flicker across the room, darting back and forth to bus tables as soon as customers leave. Skating on the thin ice he’s on, Mike works quickly and efficiently, while Dustin takes his sweet time, attempting to multitask while talking to Suzie, one AirPod in at all times.

“Yeah, babe, I’m in Kas’ Korner,” Dustin lies. “Doing some food packing.”

You watch him as he wipes the table quickly after spraying some cleaning solution onto it, eyes glued to the job in front of him instead of center stage. He does sneak a quick glance at Chrissy, though. Then looks around to see if anyone noticed. You do, but you pretend not to. It’s funny. 

“I’ve seen her get richer in the pole, I’ve seen her. I knew she had to know.”

You're sat between Steve and Eddie at the VIP table, watching Chrissy alongside everyone else. Joining you three are Argyle and Henry, who both were miraculously able to find themselves coverage. Jim is bouncer for tonight, while Lucas has the kitchen covered after months of begging Eddie and Argyle to let him cook.

Looking over at Steve, you see him beaming up at Chrissy and decide to join him in showering her with his — many — dollar bills. Argyle joins in too, to your concern since he promised the group he'd buy everyone drinks when you guys all go bar-hopping later.

"Chrissy is amazing," you sigh, shaking your head in pure admiration for the starlet dancing in front of you.

"Isn't she?" Eddie responds. He delves into his pocket to pull out his phone. "All the ladies here are pure and absolute fuego."

Drawing your attention to his device, Eddie opens an album in his camera roll titled, "Hellfire Girls". He starts showing you short clips of the dancers, one by one, explaining what they're doing and how in awe he is of them.

“I notice that the girls like wearing pasties for tops that tend to have spaghetti straps or very little fabric coverage,” he says. “Or for when they don't feel like showing their tits. Saves you too when The Girls decide to pop out when you’re upside down. Always the fucking left one too."

You giggle at his remark.

The eloquence and respect Eddie has about the female body and wardrobe mechanics has you enticed. It's evident how much Eddie respects women and values their comfort. But he is also a man, and it's no secret that someone like him enjoys watching. And Eddie is never shy to admit when he likes what he sees.

He shows you another video of another dancer, Emmy.

“Emmy’s a fucking beast,” Eddie gushes. “She can do a split right from her side straddle. Kassidy’s the same, but the Pegasus is more of her strength. Lady’s got arms and core for days. It’s fucking hot."

He swipes again.

"And Justice knows how to do a Dragon's Tail, it’s a crowd favorite.”

Eddie's already had a few drinks tonight, so the filter he already seemed to lack is practically non-existent now. Steve is on the same boat, downing his third cocktail and not giving a damn how much he blows tonight on the dancers. You all the while, are one dangerous cocktail in and are already horny out of your mind. It doesn't help that Jonathan has a heavy pour, and that every drink he makes tastes like juice.

"Cheers to that," you smirk, raising your glass to clink with Eddie's.

“I’ve seen her take down that tequila. Down by the liter. I knew I had to meet her.”

"Maketh way everyone," Henry announces, asserting himself back into the VIP section after leaving not too long ago. “Bottle service a-la-Henry."

You turn to Hellfire’s bouncer, who ditched the casual attire tonight for a more classy black formal suit and a matching Rolex watch. His sandy blonde hair is extra sleeked up and away from his face. According to Henry, he never usually dresses up unless there's a special occasion. You suppose BYOB night is one of those events.

Henry acknowledges the cocktail in your hand before nodding towards the bottle of Don Julio that he’s holding.

"Tell me, Shy Girl," Henry starts. "You up to ditch that for something a bit more challenging?"

Eddie fires a curious look towards the interaction.

You eye the Don Julio that was luring you in, and ultimately decide to take Henry up on it. Flashing him a sinister smile, you instruct him, “Hit me.”

Henry slowly starts towards you, tilting your chin upwards once he pops the cap open. With your consent he starts to pour the tequila down into your mouth.

Fuck being responsible tonight.

An array of "WOOO"s and "OHHH"s fill the air around the VIP section as everyone cheers, shocked that you’re able to chug all of that without it burning. Little did they know, Don Julio tastes just like home. Well, south of the border from home.

After holding down your own fort for way too long, you've decided that someone else needs to be handed that baton for tonight. Since you didn't tell Henry to stop, you're still chugging what he was pouring into your mouth. You know it’s risky, especially since you had two edible gummies several minutes ago as well.

“Oh my god,” Eddie gawks as you settle for a final gulp.

“Shy Girl’s not so shy,” Steve comments, absent-mindedly, arms wrapped around your waist as he keeps you propped upwards. "Good job, baby. That's how you do it."

“That’s it, Hargrove," Henry smirks. "Swallow all that for me?”

You peer up at him and hold your eye contact as you swallow, making sure Henry knows that there's no more alcohol left in your mouth. Everyone knows you championed that shit. When you’re done, he wipes the remnants of tequila off your bottom lip.

"This one's dangerous, Eds," he comments, completely shocked by what he just witnessed.

"Don't I know it," Eddie breathes. "Not really living up to the Shy Girl name, are we Hargrove?"

You feel Steve's grip around your waist tighten. Assuming he was being possessive over you, you turn to offer him your undivided attention. Instead, you end up looking over at a clearly intoxicated Steve, leaning onto you for gait support as he smothers you with affectionate kisses all over your shoulders, ear, and neck.

"Shy Girl," Steve mumbles. "Shy Girl Hargove... Not-So-Shy-Shy-Girl."

You turn back to Eddie, meeting those carnivorous eyes once again. He's breathing heavily against you now, that this time he's not even hiding it.

"Yeah well the Shy Girl thing is all an act," you quip at Eddie flirtaciously. "Looks like there's still a lot for you to learn about me."

Eddie rolls his tongue around in his cheek as he eyes you up and down. He presses his palm gently onto your knee that rested closer to him and rubs it. "Can I crash your class then? Professor?"

Before you can respond, Chrissy bounces her way on over, ecstatic over the amount of tips she made.

"Wh- are you guys all drinking without me?" she exclaims when she approaches the table.

You turn to see her pouting ever so playfully, but then smiling when Argyle hands her a shot of the Don Julio. She too downs it like it's water.

"WOOO!" Chrissy cheers, raising the empty shot glass into the air. "To Hellfire Club!"

"To Hellfire Club!" everyone follows.

Everyone resumes taking shots and celebrating once again, this time with Chrissy joining the party. You watch Eddie as he feeds her an edible, another one allegedly, upon her request. He rests a delicate hand on her cheek, watching her chew, then grazes her cheek when she swallows the gummy, eyes glued on him the entire time.

“Good girl,” he mouths.

Chrissy flashes a playful, flirty grin before excusing herself from the table to go and give patrons a dance. She is stopped midway by a familiar, friendly face.

"Aht, aht," the friendly face stops her. "Not so fast, missy. I have some stuff for you."

"Oh, that's right!" Chrissy giggles. "Thanks, Nance."

To Steve's utter shock, House Mom Nancy makes her way to the VIP table. You feel him tense beside you, attempting to sit up straight and pretend that he's sober. You and Steve take in Nancy's effortless beauty, the way her straight brown hair was neatly kept in a bun, black square neck cocktail dress with transparent black tights underneath fitting her body like a glove, with nails that were always cleaned, polished, and painted a neutral color. Nancy is always so effortlessly pretty, but tonight she looked extra good.

“Here are your extra pasties, love,” Nancy reports while handing Chrissy her boob tape. “And also some spare bobby pins.”

“Thank you!” Chrissy chimes.

Nancy proceeds to take Chrissy's tips, tucking them neatly into a pouch that has a cherry design on it. As she finishes up with Chrissy, Nancy's eyes travel over to meet Steve’s. 

“Hello, Steve,” she attempts.

“Hey, Nance,” Steve says, eyes filled with sorrow.

Nancy’s eyes fall onto you. The air seems awkward now, most likely because Nancy read the room and figured out that you and Steve are probably sleeping together. You can’t hide your thoughts. Your face speaks for you, and judging by the way you struggle to make eye contact with your house mom, she knows now that you know of her and Steve's history.

“Hey you!” Nancy cheers, trying to mask the tension.

“Hey Nance!” you join in. “How are you tonight?”

“Good,” she smiles. “Not working tonight?”

“No, just here to support Chrissy,” you smile back.

“Awesome!”

If Argyle and Henry didn't know you two are hooking up, they sure as hell knew now. They exchange a lightning quick glance at once another and do their best not to do anything that could potentially worsen the situation. Not that it was bad. It was just painfully awkward.

It’s silent for a bit before Nancy clears her throat. “Okay then, I’ll see you guys later.”

All of you bid goodbye to Nancy and try to carry on with the rest of the night. The boys have no issue going back to what they were doing. Meanwhile, you look over at Steve who has gone pale and looks like he is about to throw up.

You rest a hand on top of his. Steve flinches before turning to look at you.

“Are you okay?” you question him.

He sighs and nods. “I will be.”

“Out of sight, out of mind,” you remind him. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

"You're right," Steve frowns. He grabs your hand to kiss it. "Thanks for being so patient with me."

"Of course," you insist.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom to freshen up," he says before ruffling your hair. "I'll be right back."

Your eyes trail after Steve to ensure his safety as he saunters over to the bathroom. When he makes it safe, you turn your attention back to the boys who are, of course, talking about sex.

"Alright you guys," Argyle speaks up. "Let's talk about it. Do you guys have a daddy kink?"

You're intrigued. You gaze travels over to Henry and Eddie who are trying to contain their excitement on the topic. They're trying to act like this is not something they wanted to talk about, but judging by how tightly they're holding onto their drinks and fixing the way they were sitting a little bit too often, they are more than giddy about this topic. Or anything sex-related.

"No not really," Henry shrugs. "But master kink, yeah. I like to be called master and all that stuff."

"Ooh, you're one of those freaky ass fools," Argyle says. "I see, I see. Eddie what about you?"

"Do we really have to talk about this?" Eddie chuckles.

"We sure do, you little freak," Argyle nudges him.

Eddie laughs to himself, staring down at the bottle of beer he's currently drinking. Slowly, he starts to nod, causing your heart to do sommersaults. This night keeps on getting better.

"Yeah..." Eddie answers. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"What's the reason behind your daddy kink?"

"Just think it's hot," Eddie shrugs. "I like taking care of the girl while she unravels right under me. Think it's also a power thing. I like taking over."

"You a choker?"

"Dude, am I?" Eddie exclaims. "Fuuuck yeah! I'm like the fucking waiter at Olive Garden with the grated cheese. Tell me when to stop."

The boys burst out in laughter. Eddie continues with an explanation.

"Cuz I'll keep going."

You are too cross-faded for this right now. Your environment starts to get hot, and you can't tell if it's because of the alcohol or the information Eddie was dumping on everyone causing your cheeks to flush.

"And you know what they say," Henry adds. "Everything is about sex, but sex is about power."

"Power, women, same thing," Eddie says. "Fucking love it."

His eyes fixate on you.

"What about you Shy Girl?" Eddie questions you, his voice deepening. "What are you into?"

Chrissy's screams could not have come at a better time. The whole club nearly pans their attention to her when as shrieks.

“You fucking dickhead!”

Startled, Eddie shoots up. “What? What the fuck happened?”

“I turn around to straddle him and his dick was out.”

You look over to where Chrissy is.

Absolutely fuming, Eddie turns to Henry.

“Creel..."

"Oh I am so glad I am not on the clock," Henry fumes. "I'm gonna fuck him up so bad."

You watch as Henry removes the black blazer he has on along with his watch and shoes before darting towards Chrissy and her perverted patron. You are about to witness what you have been warned about.

"Put that back in your fucking pants dude, what the hell are you doing?" you hear him demand.

"I was just-"

"Quiet. I don't wanna hear it."

"She was talking me up all nice. Not my fault this bitch can't put out."

You turn to Eddie and swear that his eyes have gone black. Yet he refrains from going there himself. He knows well enough that he can't get involved as a manager. There would be a lot at stake if he did.

After arguing back and forth with the customer, Henry digresses when he realizes he's talking to an arrogant brick wall. That's when the unthinkable happens. You watch as the customer practically flies out of his seat, at his mercy now that he is in Henry's unbelievably tight grip. He tries to fight it, swatting at Henry's hand, attempting to kick him in the groin. Henry seems amused. As if that poor customer has a chance.

You almost hear a SNAP.

"Oooh," you hear the crowd hiss painfully.

The customer wails helplessly on the floor as Henry continues to have his way with him. Chrissy, extremely overwhelmed, dashes to the bathroom as she puts her cloak back on, trying to hide the fact that her face is now completely red and full of tears.

Your eyes pan back over to the customer who is now sprawled out onto the floor. Henry abandons him after hissing a cruel, "Get your shit together then get the fuck out" at him and spitting onto him.

He excuses himself to go get Jim to drag him out. You're way too stunned to say anything to him, eyes glued on the customer whose limbs are now bent to a perfect 90 degree angle, neck seemingly displaced, shoulders misaligned with every other part of his body. There's a pool of blood and sweat on the floor. Or maybe that's piss.

"These assholes need to be mindful of how they treat women," Henry snaps when he returns. "Cuz one of these days, they're gonna find the One."

It's difficult for chaos to phase you now, especially since physical confrontations like this used to occur every day at home. But nothing could have prepared you for the aftermath of getting fucked up by Henry.

“Jesus,” you heave. “I didn’t know the human body could bend like that.”

“Naturally it can’t,” Henry corrects you.

“Evident by the bones snapping all willy-nilly,” Argyle adds.

“Yeah, I’ve gathered that, thanks,” you reply.

Eddie sneaks up behind you.

“Told you it was grody,” he says.

Steve emerges from the bathroom, slightly less pale, but still heavily intoxicated. He looks over at the customer, eyes wide.

"Jesus." You can tell he already knows what happened. Steve also seems to know who took care of that person. "I always tell myself I'l get used to it, but damn."

You go over to embrace him. He embraces you back, kissing you across the forehead with his liquor heavy breath. Although you wanted to be with him for the rest of the night, you knew he had to go home. When Steve glances elsewhere, you confiscate his car keys. Eddie guides Steve back to his seat at the VIP table, giving him small words of encouragement as they go.

"That's it, easy there, Big Guy. Almost there. You good?"

You stride over to POTIONS where Dustin just so happens to be now. Judging by how close he and Steve are, you trust him to take him home.

"Dustin," you begin.

"Yes, m'lady," he answers.

"You mind staying with Steve for me?" you request. "I'm gonna be with Chrissy for a bit, but I think he might be ready to go home. I'm not sober so I can't take his car."

"Oh no," Dustin peers over at Steve. "Let me guess, he saw Nancy?"

"Yup," you confirm handing Steve’s keys to Dustin. “They said two whole words to each other."

"That's two more than they usually do," Dustin mutters, accepting the keys from you. “But yeah, I got you. I'll be right there."

You let the men be men, re-enacting Henry’s bone-snapping marathon with the customer. Ditching them, you make your way to the bathroom, where you saw Chrissy run to, to check on her. The sound of sniffling in the stall furthest at the back is the first thing you hear.

“Chrissy?” you call out. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she insists.

A gag followed by some a mass that sounds like vomit shooting into the toilet contradicts that statement completely. Chrissy continues to throw up profusely as you make your way over, crawling under the stall to get to your new friend.

Chrissy is hugging the toilet now, clinging onto it for dear life as if it were going to run away from her.

"Room's spinning," she justifies.

“Yeah, you are most definitely not fine," you sigh. You pat her back to console her. "Are you just overwhelmed by everything? How many milligrams did you take?”

“How many are in three?”

“Jesus Christ!" you shout. "Chrissy!"

“They weren’t doing shit,” Chrissy pouted. “I felt like I needed something strong…” she’s interrupted by her own gagging once more. “Stronger. The edibles just weren't kicking in…”

“So we wait, love!” you exclaim. “We wait for them to kick in. We don’t take it upon ourselves, especially if one gummy is 20 milligrams.”

“Waiting around is for chumps.”

The room falls silent as Chrissy proceeds to self soothe, spitting remnants of her emesis into the toilet and focusing on her breathing. You decide to speak up again.

“How do you feel after what just happened?”

“I don’t,” she answers. “Eventually, you just grow numb to it. It’s part of the profession.”

“Harassment shouldn't be part of the profession."

"But it is."

"It shouldn't! Surely we can get Henry and Jim to do more training so this doesn't happen. We can take self defense classes?"

Chrissy sits up. She turns to face you, running a hand through your hair.

“Oh my baby,” she pouts. “My dear Baby Stripper. You’ve got some shit to experience before you truly know that none of this shit is preventable." She looks off into the distance. "You’re very brave for wanting to do this. I always used to tell girls who want to get into the industry to run as fast as they can."

You're no stranger to harassment and abuse, but you couldn't imagine what strippers go through on a daily basis. Unwanted gestures, having genitals exposed to them that they did not intend on seeing, stalking, retaliation, violence, kidnapping attempts. And these poor men and women who are just trying to make a living have to just accept it.

"There's so much I don't know about the industry," you admit to her. "And to a certain degree I am still naive about it all."

"That's why I'm so protective of you."

"I'll be fine, Chrissy," you reassure her. "I'm more worried about you. You're such a cute little cinnamon roll, I'm the protective one."

"You're so sweet," she says. "You have to promise me that you're gonna say something if anyone tries shit with you."

"Of course," you nod. You start to get scared. Chrissy is saying all this as if it was bound to happen tomorrow.

"And that if anyone at all seems like a threat, you let Jim, Henry, or Eddie know right away," Chrissy continues. "And Jonathan is in on it too. Just ask him for an angel shot and he'll know exactly what to do."

"Mhm," you nod again. "Yeah, you got it."

The extents women have to go through to keep safe...You shudder in fear. It's only temporary, you remind yourself. It's only temporary.

It's not too long after the incident that everyone, the party included, decides to disperse. Argyle volunteers to take Chrissy home and they leave in his van. Henry stays behind and talks with Jim, explaining to him what exactly went down with that one customer. Meanwhile, Steve is sitting at the VIP table, nearly passed out, but Eddie and Dustin work together to get him to his feet.

“Alright,” Dustin announces. “I’m taking Steve home before he starts simping over Nancy again.”

"Shut up, dude," Steve mumble, using nearly all his body weight to lean on Dustin.

You walk over to give Steve one last embrace, leaving a delicate kiss on his cheek as he drunkenly sways back and forth in your grip.

“Goodnight Steve,” you smile.

“Goodnight beautiful,” Steve says. “I’ll text you when I’m home safe.”

“Please,” you encourage him. “And drink water.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles hazily. “You drink water.”

After they leave, you return to the VIP table to order yourself an Uber. You're still intoxicated, but it's simmered to a buzz now. Before you can even navigate to the app, some tight jeans and combat boots make their way towards you, keys to a certain van out back jingling around his fingers.

“Ready, Shy Girl?” Eddie asks you.

“Huh? For what?”

“I’m taking you home.”

_____________

author’s note: thank you so much for all your kind words regarding this fic thus far!! 🥹 and thank you for being so patient as i had a family emergency this week so posting was delayed! didn’t wanna rush posting either because i care about the quality of my work and you guys deserve the best!! i added a bunch of y’all to the tag list and am so excited to have you guys along for the ride. revising/editing ch 4 as we speak :)

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tag list: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe , @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23 , @sidthedollface2

[strangerficsxx]

Crazy For You | Masterlist

[I do not claim to, nor do I own Stranger Things; the concept, characters, plot, etc. All gifs used in each chapter of this series are not mine, and will be credited in each chapter. Chapters under the cut! please ignore my bad editing skills when it comes to edits lol.]

Genre: Sci-Fi; Drama; Horror; LGBTQ; Romance

Warnings (S2-S4): violence; past trauma; swearing; alcohol consumption; light smut?

Brenda Harrington's biography

Phoebe Hopper's biography

COMING DECEMBER 2024!!

SEASON TWO

The time Brenda helps her brother and a bunch of middle school aged kids save the world... and locate an interdimensional slug.

001. The Perfect Daughter

002. Let's Party, B*tches

003. The Aftermath

004. Wise

005. Dig Dug

006. The Babysitter

007. Secrets Revealed

008. To Save Hawkins

009. It's Over

010. A Normal Life

SEASON THREE

The newly built Starcourt Mall has opened in Hawkins Indiana, and it is where Kathryn's brother, Steve, works at along with Robin Buckley -- a classmate. However, something sinister looms under Hawkins and the gang have to bring everyone together to survive, to save the small city as romance blooms along the way.

011. Missing Keys

012. The Mall Rat

013. The Stakeout

014. Test

015. Flayed Visit

016. Investigation

017. War

018. Starcourt

019. The Date

SEASON FOUR

A year after the events of 1985, Kathryn confesses to Robin. Unfortunately, she gets taken over by an unknown entity and has so much time before her time is up.

020. Spring '86

021. Cursed

022. Breaking and Entering

023. Running Out of Time

024. The Creel House

025. Caught

026. Vecna

027. Prepping

028. The Fight

029. What's Next?