#I wish Billy and Eddie had met.

[bubblegumflavor]

Tired boys.

(I just really felt like drawing them and all their stupid gorgeous hair)

[paperbackribs]

tags: steddie, pre-canon, season S2-ish, tommy hagan will always have a crush on Steve Harrington

🩵💥🩵

“Someday, you're gonna get bitch-slapped, and I'm not gonna do a thing to stop it,” Steve hears the echo of his words in the Hawkins High boys’ bathroom. Spinning off the tiles, pinging against its corners and stabbing at Tommy who stands gasping at his best friend.

But Steve doesn’t care. This has been a long time coming.

Tommy is a prick and Steve thought there wasn’t anything wrong with going with the flow, ignoring the snide comments, looking away from the rumours that Carol would spread, as long as his friends remained by his side.

But Billy Hargrove had infected Hawkins High. Steve stopped swallowing the cool aid. And Tommy is fuming; red in the face and ready to take it out on any unfortunate soul that crosses his path.

Enter Steve.

Or, really, enter Eddie Munson.

Steve wasn’t sure if Tommy followed Eddie into the empty toilets or coincidentally came across him or whatever could be going on in the mixed up mind of his former best friend. But watching Tommy square off his stocky, muscular body against the other boy, boxed into the corner and wide, brown eyes only visible over Tommy’s shoulder, Steve swears that he’ll no longer look away from Tommy’s indiscretions.

So, he says it again, nodding to the leather clad boy in the corner, “Eddie’s going to take a swing at you and not only will I not defend you, I might even fucking taking a swing too.”

Tommy gapes, “What the fuck, Steve? I know we’ve been having troubles, but you’d take the freak’s side over mine?”

Eddie’s face twists in the background. Steve can see the anger warping his eyes and he doesn’t blame him, almost wishes that Eddie would take a swing and then Steve could just stand back and let it happen.

He sighs: he’s allowed a lot of things to just happen so far and it’s not to his credit.

Weirdly, Steve's resigned gaze meets Eddie’s incredulous look and, just for a moment, Steve feels like he’s met someone who gets it. Someone who sees the ridiculous, short-sighted nature of the petty bullying in the hallways of their high school and knows how stupid and utterly pathetic it is.

Steve swears that the corner of Eddie’s lips kick up at the irony of their shared understanding but is distracted as Tommy strides forward, knocking against his shoulder hard enough to send Steve spinning against the wood of a stall. He steadies himself as Tommy slams the bathroom door shut behind him with a clamorous bang and shakes his head: how could he have had such loyalty for a guy who won’t even stop to talk out their stupid shit together?

Steve thought he’d at least earned Tommy’s patience, a moment of Tommy’s time so they could talk this out and find a way forward again. He stares after his former friend, a hollow, gaping hole in his stomach as he grieves the friendship he thought they’d shared.

Eddie approaches with a gentle hand, laying it on Steve’s shoulder, “Are you all right, man?”

Steve swallows around the thickness in his chest and belatedly realises that his cheeks are wet. He clears his throat and, through a tight smile, says, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”

The deep richness of those brown eyes regard him for a long moment and Steve feels stripped bare. He thought he was the guy rescuing Eddie, but he suddenly feels like the one vulnerable and exposed to the other boy.

Eddie smiles softly, “Yeah, got saved, right? How could I be anything but peachy keen?”

Steve snorts despite himself, amused by Eddie’s tongue-in-cheek tone, “Like a summertime in Georgia.” He can’t help but flash to Tommy’s retreating back and hates that his tone is already bitter, “Except I’m the stupid fucking tree alone in the grove.”

His head twitching slightly to the side, as if he were weighing Steve’s words, Eddie lightly responds, “Well, maybe it’s time to try another field. Wanna hang out sometime?”

Steve blinks, bewildered at the offer. The suggestion given so freely and without conditions seems anathema to his experience of friendship, and especially friendship in the complex halls of high school. He eyes the other boy suspiciously, but Eddie’s eyes remain clear, his body loose and almost curled towards Steve as if he were the north to his compass.

What could it hurt? Steve thinks.

Looking at what he can only describe as kindness in Eddie’s eyes, Steve thinks that a lot of things could hurt. Could burn or scald or stab, but the sweet, clear acceptance in Eddie Munson’s eyes has him thinking of a world where Steve can offer his loyalty and receive it in kind. A place where he can be good and feel like he’s doing good and perhaps a lovely brown-eyed boy would wait and tell him he’d done the right thing.

Eddie sticks out his hand in a gesture of friendship that only bolsters the words he’d already extended to Steve. And nothing moves in the cold room of Hawkins boys’ bathroom, no wind or breeze, but as Steve reaches out to clasp Eddie Munson’s outstretched hand, he feels a seismic shift that he can’t explain.

Steve’s fingers fold around the warmth of Eddie’s palm and Eddie’s full lips stretch into a smile, welcoming and true. A gesture that Steve can’t be sure of, can’t let himself fully trust; yet, nonetheless, Steve finds himself hopelessly following after Eddie’s extension of friendship.

And it'll eventually allow Steve to follow him to the confusing halls of the Hellfire Club.

To the strangely welcome space of Eddie's uncle’s trailer.

And Steve follows.

Because he is helpless but to follow this wide, brown-eyed boy who smirks at him with a knowing smile.

[werepuppy-steve]

Between discovering the Russian bunker under Starcourt, discovering their plans to get into the Upside Down, being caught by said Russians and tortured, after making sure Dustin and Erica got out of there, Steve was confident that this was an isolated incident.

Hopper had assured them that El had closed the gate at Hawkins Lab, saw it with his own eyes. So maybe if they (he, Robin, Dustin, and Erica) dealt with this one on their own, it wouldn’t be so bad. There were no monsters this time, at least.

Steve had naive hope that the others wouldn’t have to get involved.

But as the four of them are chased through the mall by a big guy with a gun, Steve and Robin still coming down from a truth serum high, his hope turns into dread.

Because a show car is suddenly flung from the floor and into the group of Russians that have them cornered behind a counter in the food court, and there’s only one person he knows with the ability to do that.

They all slowly peer over the counter, and sure enough, El is standing at the forefront, her hand extended in front of her and her nose bleeding. The other kids plus Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie are with her. Steve’s stomach drops and the nauseating feeling from earlier is back, but it’s not from the drugs this time.

Eddie makes a beeline toward him and Robin while Dustin greets the others with enthusiasm, Erica a little starstruck over El.

“What the hell happened?” Eddie demands, eyes flitting frantically all over Steve’s face and taking in the worst of the damage. Steve knows he must look like shit– he can’t see that great out of his left eye and that whole side of his face has gone numb.

Billy bashing his face in last year has nothing on the pain he’s feeling now.

“It’s a long story,” Steve says as he leans heavily into Eddie’s space. Eddie’s hands land on his shoulders and he holds him gently, like he’s afraid of hurting him even more. “I’ll tell you after this is all over.”

“Steve–”

“Teddy.” Steve pulls back and looks him in the eye, as well as he can. He must have not puked everything out of his system like Robin thought because he still feels a little giddy when he reaches up and taps Eddie on the nose. “Later. I promise.”

There’s really no time to say anything else because Robin and Erica need to be brought up to speed about everything and he and Dustin need to be caught up on what’s happening now, and when they are, Steve desperately wishes that it was just the Russians they had to deal with.

Help comes in the form of Hopper, Ms. Byers, and a balding man that Steve’s never met. While they’re all squabbling and trying to come up with a half baked plan, Eddie finds a first aid kit in one of the kitchens and makes Steve sit on a counter so he can try to patch him up. They don’t speak, but Steve grips Eddie’s unoccupied hand while Eddie stands close between his legs.

There isn’t much time between then and everybody splitting off into groups. Scoops Troop plus Eddie all pile into the TODFTHR (“You sure you’re her daddy, sweetheart?” Eddie teases with a smirk and Steve’s glad the bruising hides his blush.)

Everything gets a little fuzzy after they leave the kids at Weathertop. When he’s asked later, he’ll say he remembers hearing that song from that one movie, but he’s not sure if it actually happened. He’s so hyped up on adrenaline, it’s probably the only thing keeping him conscious.

Steve doesn’t remember making the decision to t-bone Billy’s car, but he does remember the horrific scene inside the mall; the Mindflayer screeching and its tentacle-like appendages swinging this way and that. He remembers pelting it with explosives to distract it from attacking El. He looks down and his stomach lurches when he sees the monster go straight through Billy’s chest.

He hears Eddie let out a strangled curse beside him and Steve has to ignore the bile rising in his throat. He knows there’s been casualties; Barb in ‘83, Ms. Byers’ boyfriend last year, however many people the Mindflayer had killed this year.

This is the first death he’s ever seen in person.

He’s still reeling from it when Owens and the military swarm the building once the monster is finally defeated. They’re all pulled in separate directions for medical attention and questioning. Steve feels downright miserable, sitting in the back of an ambulance with Robin, a shock blanket over his shoulders. He squeezes her hand and gives her a small smile.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” he says.

Robin takes a shaky breath. “Yeah. I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of it. I think for once in my life, I’m speechless.”

Eddie finds them after he’s been looked over and Steve opens his arms to pull him in for a hug, wrapping both of them in the blanket. Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead and Steve sags against him. They take a moment to breathe each other in, basking in the fact that they’re both alive.

“They want to take us to the hospital,” Steve says. “They’re pretty sure I have a concussion but they want to run tests to make sure there isn’t any other damage.” He nods to Robin. “And they wanna keep us under 24 hour observation 'cause of the drugs.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, eyes sliding shut.

Steve frowns and uses the corner of the blanket to brush against Eddie’s cheek comfortingly. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a grimace. “This probably wasn’t how you were expecting to spend your birthday.”

Eddie turns his head and kisses his fingers. “No, baby,” he says. “Absolutely nothin’ for you to be sorry about. Had me and Wayne worried sick when you didn’t come home last night, though. I was close to callin’ Hopper when Lucas started screaming code red over the radio.”

Steve doesn’t want to think about how that probably worried them even more. “Your present’s in my car,” he says instead. “You can’t have it until I’m discharged, though. I wanna see your face when you open it.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “That just makes me even more curious, sweetheart.”

He pinches Steve’s side playfully, but gently. Steve stifles a giggle and leans into him more, very aware of how Robin’s watching them like a hawk.

“No peeking,” Steve warns, pointing a finger in Eddie’s face. “It’s a surprise.”

Eddie only nips at his finger. Steve doesn’t even blink. Sighing, Eddie releases his finger and marks a cross over his heart. “I promise I won’t do any snooping.”

Steve pats his cheek. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a shit liar, Munson?”

They break into giggles, their heads bent forward, and Eddie would’ve leaned in for a kiss if it weren’t for Robin clearing her throat rather loudly. Steve curls into Eddie’s front, Eddie’s arm going around his shoulders. God, he’d give anything to be at home and asleep in their bed.

“I’m still very confused about this whole thing,” Robin says, waving a hand in their direction. “I just fought a monster from a whole other dimension, but this is probably the biggest shocker of my life.”

“Strange things follow this group around like a shadow,” Eddie says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. And for him, it is. “You better get used to it, Buckley, 'cause you’re one of us now.”

written and originally posted for @flowercrowngods birthday 🤍 dio is an absolute treasure and a great friend to have and is my #1 gseb stan. happy belated birthday!!! 💙

🥐☕💕 buy me a coffee?

[libraryofgage]

@holyangelstudentuniverse requested the following: Steve working at Bath & Body Works while Eddie is the mall pianist?

I love it omfg, your brain is fantastic I hope I did the idea justice

(if you see any typos no you didn't <3)

The old food court pianist was...okay. Technically, she was good; she knew how to play and rarely made mistakes. She was also clearly just there for the bi-weekly check (not that Steve can blame her), and her playing reflected that. The piano became the ideal white noise, loud enough to lessen the awkwardness of any silence but not so amazing that people couldn't ignore it in favor of conversing with each other.

The new food court pianist? He's a fucking enigma.

He's very clearly skilled, and he seems to actually enjoy the job. He plays like Billy Joel and Elton John met one night, had a piano contest, and then had a baby to create the perfect pianist. He's great and energetic and can play anything from Mozart to fucking Cardi B, and Steve wishes he'd quit already so he can actually focus on his own shitty mall job instead of getting absorbed in the guy's playing.

"You should just hook up with him," Robin says one day, hip-checking Steve as she passes by with a box of Cherry Blossom products. She restocks the soap bottles first, then the perfume, then the lotions, and finally the tiny hand sanitizers with their shitty little plastic flip-caps that Steve swears break for the fucking fun of it.

Steve, meanwhile, is replacing last week's sales signs with new ones. They're the exact same. They rarely change, actually. The only difference is the "expiration" date at the bottom, which changes if only to continually sell customers that sense of urgency that results in them buying $50 worth of products they'll forget about until the holidays come around and they need white elephant gifts.

He's almost done, too. All that's left are the signs by the metal gate pulled down over the store's entrance. They'll open it in about an hour to prepare for the mall's opening, but for now, it's staying down to discourage the mini-bodega clerk in the middle of the hall from flirting with Robin and trying to sell her shitty perfume like she can't just steal shitty perfume from Bed Bath and Beyond at the end of the day.

He waits until after he's switched the sign to turn around, arms crossed over his chest. His back is to the gate, and Steve would normally be too fucking paranoid about a blind spot to withstand it, but he's in argument mode.

"I barely know the guy," he says.

Robin snorts as she crouches, stocking extra hand sanitizers in the tiny drawers at the bottom of the shelf. "Yeah, but I know you, dingus," she says, her voice light and bouncing. "You hear the guy's muzak version of a Lil Nas X song and you're ready to marry the guy."

"I can just recognize artistic ability! Have you ever tried to make a pop song sound like a classic?" he asks.

"My point," Robin says, pushing some hair out of her face, "is that you should ask him out. Maybe you two can play piano together."

If she hadn't already heard it before, Steve would be immediately launching into an explanation of why that wouldn't work. Steve has never met someone he liked or trusted enough to actually play with them. Sure, he's tried playing with a partner before if only to say he gave it a shot, but it sucks. Especially when you don't like the person. You're squished together on an uncomfortable bench, sharing sheet music, elbows bumping as you both try to reach the proper keys to keep the song from sounding horrendous. It's Steve's personal version of hell on earth.

But Robin has heard that rant before, so Steve graciously spares her from hearing it again. For now. Until he's drunk, probably.

"What, I'm just gonna waltz up to the piano and ask if he's free on Saturday? Or, I don't know, try some dumb pick-up line like asking if he comes here often?"

"I'll be honest, it's not the worst pick-up line I've heard."

Steve and Robin jump, both whipping their head to look at the grate to see the food court pianist grinning at them (well, more specifically, he's grinning at Steve) from the other side. He's wearing a button-down black shirt with ripped skinny jeans, old Converse, and more accessories than Steve can count. There are chains on his jeans and a guitar pick hanging from his neck and an ear cuff and a stud through the edge of his eyebrow and so many chunky rings that Steve could use as an excuse to stare at his hands for an hour.

Robin is the one who breaks out of the shock first. She jumps to her feet and walks over to Steve, resting her arm on his shoulder and leaning against him. "But would it work?" she asks.

The guy grins wider, obviously looking Steve up and down to check him out before looking at Robin. "From Stevie here? Yeah. He's really rocking the apron," Eddie replies, winking at Steve.

Steve is about to ask how the guy knows his name, but then he remembers the name badge on his apron. He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away to glance down at Robin.

She seems to be having the time of her life right now.

"Well, uh, I'd prefer to know your name before trying any pickup lines," he says.

"Eddie Munson at your service," Eddie says, bowing to Steve with a dramatic flourish that he finds more endearing than anything else.

One look at Robin and her scrunched nose tells him she thinks it's a little over-the-top and, dare he say, cringe. Her opinion doesn't actually matter, though, since she'd be down bad for any girl that curtseyed at her.

Steve looks back at Eddie, noting the now expectant gleam in his eyes. He can't help an amused smile as he says, "Well then, Eddie," Steve says, stressing his name a little just for the fun of it, "come here often?"

Robin groans next to him. "Fucking hell, Steve," she mutters, slapping him upside the head. "I know you suck at flirting but you really couldn't come up with something better?"

"No, no," Eddie tells her, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm into it."

"And I'm out of it," Robin says, raising her hands in surrender before scurrying back to her Cherry Blossom products.

She's definitely still listening, though.

Steve rolls his eyes are her reaction and focuses back on Eddie. "So, uh, are you free on Saturday?" he asks.

"Completely free," Eddie says, taking a step closer to the gate and shoving his hands into his pockets. "How about lunch?"

"Yeah, I know a great pizza place."

"It's a date then," Eddie replies, winking at Steve. "By the way, any song requests?"

Steve blinks and thinks for a minute before asking, "Do you know Vienna?"

Eddie's grin tells Steve that he does, in fact, know Vienna. "Vienna it is." With that, he winks at Steve once more before heading back to the food court.

"That was painful," Robin says once he's far away enough.

Steve rolls his eyes and flips her off. "You're just jealous I've got a date and you're still too chicken shit to approach the Nike girl."

Robin practically squawks at him. "Oh, fuck you," she says.

"I'll leave that to Eddie, thanks," Steve says, laughing when Robin gags.

[nooneaskedforthissmut]

18+

It's always perv!steve this or perv!eddie that and sometimes perv!billy. Which I'm all for, but I want to see more perv!robyn x reader. Especially bestfriends!robyn x reader

A/N: unedited mess obviously

tags: fem!reader, lowkey mutual!perv, bestfriend!perv!robyn X curvy!reader, and they were roomates, lil dubcon

You and Robyn met on the first day of college orientation. You two instantly felt a connection and became friends. You both hated your assigned roommates. Luckily, your RA was cool enough to let you swap and before the week was over, you and Robyn became roommates.

But after a while, Robyn wasn't sure that it was the best idea.

You slept in a tight tank top and panties. And she couldn't help but stare. Although if you noticed, you never said anything.

You were so playful with her too. Hugging her tightly. Your soft body pressed up against hers. So it wasn't her fault when she would pull you in closer. Try to feel your hard nipples against her or smell you.

It became normal for her to give your ass a 'friendly' squeeze or spank. And I mean, you must want her to. You must be doing these things on purpose. Just to tease her.

You would try on new bras in front of her and ask if they looked good. You wouldn't even cover yourself when you changed into new ones, basically shaking your bare tits at her when you were picking a new bra. She'd sit there legs crossed, her pussy throbbing while you bounced in front of her, asking yourself if they were supportive enough. She'd offer to feel if the material was nice, just to get her hands on you.

After showers, you'd stay in your towel for a while lounging in your bed. Sometimes your tits would spill out or Robyn would get a clear shot of your ass or your pussy.

A few times while getting ready in the morning, you'd slowly lotion yourself while having full conversations with her. She'd be in bed pretending to have a late class. But really her hand was between her thighs teasing her clit under the blanket. She'd wait for you to leave so she could ride her pillow while wearing your sweatshirt, and imagine her head between your thick thighs.

After a long day of classes when you get back to the dorm, she offers to give you massages. Because ' what are friends for'. It would be a great way to take your clothes off too.

"I don't want the oil to soil your new underwear, babes" She'd say in that sultry raspy voice.

After she has you on your back fully naked, lying on your front, head resting on your hands. She'd start by working on your back. And straddle your ass to 'get a better angle'.

The massage feels so good that you don't even comment when her fingers graze your side boob a little too much.

And when you really get into the massage, you start to moan as Robyn works out the kinks in your back with her long fingers. Her thumbs would rub deep circles into your back, in a rhythm you wished to feel on your clit. She almost loses it with the comments you moaning.

"Fuck Robyn those fingers"

"Oh, my gooooood. That's it, do that again"

"mhmmm deeper. you can go harder"

And when you moan your thank yous, she'd just tell you that's what good roommates do.

She usually tries to control herself and only takes mental notes for when she has time alone with your vibrator - yes. your vibrator-. But sometimes she slips up and gets too into it. Starts grinding on your ass a little. She tries to make it unnoticeable, tries to make it look like she needs to grind her core into your soft big ass to make the message better for you. You've never really commented though. Sometimes, when she massaged the right spot your hips would buck and she'd dig her hips down into you - make it look like she was bracing herself.

Except once. You had finally completed an exam you were stressing and Robyn offered to message the stress knots out.

She was grinding her hips ever so often- like usual. It felt so much better this time because she was wearing corteroid pants and the lining was grazing her clit just right. She wished she wasn't wearing panties that day. When she got too cocky and started grinding into you more frequently.

You moaned for her to stop.

She froze, her heart pounding. Wondering if she was finally caught.

Until you said, " Your pants feel nice, but they're a little scratchy. Can you take them off"

She swallowed and quickly got up to take them off. She could've sworn she saw your pussy glistening.

"Should I put some oil on your toosh? If my pants scratched you,"

She tried to say it in a fun friendly way but she couldn't hide how raspy her voice was.

You shook your head. "Lotion first"

She obliged and she took her time rubbing it in. First with the lotion, then with the oil. Before she straddled your now oily ass with nothing but panties on and her shirt. (She really, really wished she hadn't worn panties that day).

"You might be extra slippery now"

She said knowing she was going to grind into you more now.

[famwhy]

Right Way Up (Prologue)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

masterlist. next part.

prologue. bring unto me misfortune

enter: steve "the hair" harrington

"—GET off him, Y/N!"

You blinked, puzzled. "Huh?"

A face—below you; beaten bloody and blue.

Arms—around you; tugging, pulling, yanking.

It took a few seconds to sink in, to register your surroundings and properly digest them.

You were straddling someone, legs thrown over their hips as you held them down with your weight. Your knuckles were red, speckled with the droplets running down their nose... their nose—oh god, their nose—it was crooked, bent in ways you hadn't ever thought were possible outside of movies; ways you hadn't ever wished to come across in the whole of your lifetime.

Did you do that?

Your brows were furrowed. Why were they furrowed? You didn't recall feeling angry before your afternoon nap—if anything, you were more relieved—so why now did you suddenly find yourself on top of this random teenager, who you never even once recalled spending a moment of your life with, while your fist was slathered in their blood?

"Jesus, I get that you hate him but there's no need to kill him!" That same voice from before piped up. "You'll get in some serious trouble."

What the hell was he on about?

There were so many more questions running rampant in your mind but the tugging sensation around your waist finally prevailed, pulling you straight out of your thoughts and, subsequently, straight off that boy.

"Y/N, c'mon. We gotta go before we get in some deep shit."

Your head swerved around, finally allowing you to catch a glimpse of the guy who had both of his hands securely wrapped around your waist—albeit you did have to strain your neck a little. 

He had brown locks that swooped over his scalp to rest perfectly against the top of his head—smooth and silky with a shimmering sheen coating their surface. It was a unique hairstyle, one that seemed way too... familiar for your liking.

"Ah shit."

His hand reached out, and it was only then that you truly realised how bloody your fingers were; when he grabbed ahold of them and pulled them closer to his face, consequently staining his own hand too.

"You're hurt."

His brows were furrowed and a heavy frown had tugged his lips down, making it appear as though he was concerned about you—but, how could that be possible when you had never once met him in your life? Or at least, you thought that to be so.

He dragged you inside a building, your feet bumping against the rough surface of concrete as you continued to lay limp in disbelief, bewilderment, and utter, utter confusion.

Lockers, around you, rows and rows of them. Okay, so a school. You were in a school. You were in some random school being dragged by some random boy with bloody fists that just now began to ache lightly. 

This was definitely a dream—that much you concluded right away. Some weird dream where you found yourself in high school with a... cheerleading outfit on?

The skirt, the bright colours, the large logo—yup, there was no mistaking it, you were in a cheerleading outfit.

Oh wow, a dream where you were a cheerleader that beat up random guys in such gruesome ways? Kinda cool, if you were honest.

"Shit, looks like the nurse is out," the familiar boy spoke again, "hang on, I think I can help patch you up."

He gently placed you ontop of a bed, one that felt soft and plush around your thighs. It was quite comfortable and you almost couldn't help the need to bounce on it slightly; feel its spring underneath you to truly test if it was, in fact, a bed.

The room he took you to was grey, looking old with some tiles on the wall having been chipped away; as though it hadn't been tended to in a long time. A little unhygienic, you had thought, but nothing unexpected of a school.

"You have got to stop getting into fights," your eyes wandered back over to the boy, taking in the sight of him scurrying through some drawers; almost as though he was looking for something, "I know it's been hard—y'know, since that whole incident with the demogorgon and stuff—but that doesn't mean you can keep getting into fights like this to toughen yourself up—"

Woah, woah, woah, did he just say demogorgon?

"—I promised you I would protect you—didn't I?—that you didn't need to worry about stuff like that. Just... let me keep you safe."

He paused after he said those words, looking over at you with such soft, tender eyes—you almost let out a light gasp from how intense the care in them felt.

This boy... how exactly did you know him in this dream? Was he a friend? A lover? Sibling?

You briefly parted your lips, blinking as words formed on the tip of your tongue—seconds away from escaping your mouth—when a thought suddenly occurred to you, and you sharply pressed them against each other once more.

He mentioned a demogorgon. There were only two pieces of media you knew of that mentioned demogorgons. DnD and... Stranger Things.

Suddenly, it all clicked. The hair, the uniform, the school environment, the demogorgon—you were in Stranger Things, sat in Hawkins High, right next to Steve Harrington.

Holy shit. How did you not realise it before?! You were literally sat right in front of Steve 'The Hair' Harrington himself—a guy known for his unique, 'pretty boy', hair!

Holy crap.

"Y/N? Are you alright?"

"Huh?" You blinked. "Oh, uh, I'm fine."

As fine as someone who just found out they were in a dream about a bloody horror show set in the 80s could be.

He slowly approached you, and it was only then that you noticed the roll of gauze in his hands.

"Yeah, sure you are," he quipped with a frown.

You rolled your eyes. "I am, Steve."

"I know, I know, I just—" he paused and let out a light, frustrated sigh, as though he was trying to release some sort of heavy weight he was bearing, before combing a hand through his hair, "—I don't like seeing you hurt."

That was when you remembered how sweet he truly was after season one of the show, and your eyes softened as you gazed at his clearly-concerned form. Well, at least your dream was merciful enough to allow you to be close to Steve; so close, in fact, that he would have this much concern over you in the first place.

The gentle hold of five somewhat-rough fingers against your wrist only proved your points further as he lightly tugged on your arm and brought your knuckles closer to his form—his touch sending tingles down your limb now that you knew who, exactly, he was. C'mon, who didn't have a crush on Steve Harrington?

The soft fabric of a cloth met with your skin, slowly wiping away the sticky liquid on its surface to reveal your bruised—and slightly busted—knuckles underneath.

"Since when did you get a tattoo?"

"Huh?" You blinked.

Confused, you followed his line of sight, finding your eyes landing on three thick, red lines displayed clearly on your wrist, right where the bump of your veins were visible; so prominent, in fact, you were surprised you hadn't noticed them there earlier.

"Shit. Don't tell me you got it while drunk." Your eyes shot back up to him. "Seriously, Y/N? How many times do I have to tell you not to get blackout drunk?"

You didn't know how the hell those tattoos got there and, from the looks of things, Steve didn't either. Maybe it was some weird detail your dream decided to add on—wouldn't be the first time, and certainly wouldn't be the last either.

He sighed, eyes closing for a few brief moments before opening once more with yet another intense look to knock you off your feet. "Alright. Lemme just wrap up your wound."

His nails then dug into the edge of the gauze, pulling and prodding at it until a corner gave way before he was able to further force it apart. Then, his hands moved back to yours; left wrapping gently around your fingers; right rolling the gauze over your knuckles just as sweetly. 

A small smile tugged up your lips. It felt nice to be cared for like this—comforting. 

"Alright, uhh, that should be it," he announced, slowly pulling away to leave nothing but the lingering sense of warmth from his touch in his wake, "you have practice later, right? If you don't like how it looks, you can cover it up with your, uh, plastic, ribbon ball things."

"Plastic, ribbon ball things?" You rose a brow.

"Yeah—y'know, the ones that you shake about during games?"

Was he talking about what you thought he was talking about?

"You mean pompoms?" You couldn't help the amusement that seeped into your tone.

"Yes!" He snapped his fingers with a smile. "Pompoms!"

Dear lord, he was so cute, it was otherworldly. You must've struck it super lucky to have gotten this dream, almost made you not wanna wake up. Although, hopefully you would awake before having the pleasure of meeting a plant monster with thousands of razor-sharp teeth ready to bleed you dry.

"Nance and I'll take you home, alright? Just in case."

Nance?

Oh shit, yeah, he was still with Nancy. You were crushing on a taken man. Sorry, Nance.

...although, technically, he wouldn't be taken for long since they did break up in the show so... you were totally allowed to keep crushing on him.

"Y/N?"

A hand waved back and forth in front of your face.

"Oh, uh, repeat that."

His lips pulled down again and you found your heart constricting slightly—ribs suddenly feeling like too much as guilt engulfed your form. He was worrying for you an awful lot, huh?

"Are you alright, N/N? You're not usually this out of it. Do you want me to stay here with you for the rest of the day?"

The way he spoke; the concern-ridden scrunch of his brow; the lack of distance between his form and yours—it all added up, suffocating you in a hold of responsibility you didn't wish to be within. 

"It's okay, you should get to class—" you mustered up a smile as best as you could, praying to God he wasn't able to see through it, "—I've caused you enough worry for the day."

His eyes softened and he reached out a hand, placing it gently against the bare skin of your shoulder—those familiar tingles running down your arm at his touch. "It's okay, I don't mind. You're my best friend, N/N. I'll never see you as a burden."

Warmth—overwhelming and fluffy—all around you; coating your form in a lovely bubble of pure bliss, all from a few words. How the hell was he so smooth?

"Careful, Harrington," a broad grin spread from one side of your face to the other, "you've got a girlfriend."

He rolled his eyes with a little chuckle—and you swore your heart just fluttered—"Nance won't mind. I've known you my whole life, shitbird."

The insult was enough to cause your eyes to crinkle in amusement as a light laugh left your lips. "Okay, okay, dipshit. Go to class."

Finally, his lips turned up instead of down—gently this time; soft without a hint of anything sharp in them; that paired with the intense care swirling in his eyes—god, he had to stop doing that.

"There's that pretty smile."

"Steve!" You batted him away, shifting your head to the side to hide the ever-growing tug of your lips. "Go!"

"Alright, alright," he relented, pushing himself up from the kneeling position he was once in as he took a few steps back, a broad grin situated on his face, "I'm going. See you later, shitbird."

Before a retort could escape your mouth, he was gone.

You rolled your eyes but the traitorous grin on your lips gave away your true feelings.

You just had banter with the Steve Harrington. King Steve himself. This dream was a blessing in disguise. It had to be.

Apparently, you were also best friends with him too. Another absolute win in your book. 

Hours; you would've spent hours gushing over him—squealing like a little school girl with a crush—but the next thing that happened occurred too quickly for you to continue your spiel, too fast for you to register anything else.

A brief spike of white, hot pain shot through your knuckles—so quick, you almost couldn't believe it happened. But it was there. It happened.

"Agh!"

They were hurting. Holy shit, they were hurting. How was that possible? Was this a lucid dream? It did feel surprisingly realistic, and very, very immersive. That was probably all there was to it, right? 

But... weren't dreams incapable of emulating pain? ...or was that death? Stupid memory. Maybe if you allowed yourself to take a nap, you'd wake up on your couch again in the real world. Then you'd probably start to sulk about how you weren't actually friends with Steve Harrington and how he was, unfortunately, just a fictional character.

"Y/N!"

The call of your name had your eyes averting from your wrapped up knuckles and towards the entrance of the room, landing straight onto puffed-up blonde hair adorning the same bright colours as yourself with hands covered by the so-called 'plastic, ribbon ball things'—as Steve called them.

"What the hell are you doing here?! We have practice and you're captain, you can't ditch!" She placed both of her covered hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes in your direction before her gaze seemed to zoom in on one specific part. "Why is your hand all wrapped up like that?"

Something about the way her nose scrunched up in disgust as she said those words didn't sit right with you. It was almost like just the sight of the gauze repulsed her... what the hell was wrong with bandaging your hands?

"They're hurt," you responded curtly.

She merely rolled her eyes. "They're ugly is what they are. How do you expect to cheer with that?"

Okay, this dream was officially turning into a nightmare.

You stood abruptly, clenching your hands into fists before wincing as another pang of pain hit your knuckles—effectively dispersing the rage festering within you.

Though, one look at her scowling face and soon, it was back; stronger than before. "Forget it, I'm not going."

"What do you mean? You're captain."

"So you keep saying," you rolled your eyes, "where's Steve?"

"Harrington? In the library with his girl—hey! Where are you going?! We need you for practice! L/N!"

You shoved past her, making sure to very unpleasantly bump into her for being so bitchy, and continued marching down the halls.

You weren't sure where the hell the library was but you'd be damned if you weren't about to find it and have Steve haul your ass back home so that you could get a proper grip on this... whatever the hell this was.

This whole situation was insane. You almost never had dreams where you were able to enter a fictional world with scenes and interactions this vivid. Hell, you almost never had dreams in general. To go from that to this was... overwhelming to say the least.

It took a few tries (and definitely way more wrong turns than you'd care to admit) but you found the library eventually, and with it: Steve and Nancy.

"Harrington."

"Y/N?" He blinked, pushing himself off his seat beside the shorter brunette—so quick to act, in fact, that it took you a few blinks to actually register that he got up as soon as you called out to him. "What are you doing here? Don't you have practice?"

It only took one glance to his side to feel that constricting feeling in your heart again; one look at Nancy's face. She kept glancing between you and Steve, brows scrunched up with a mixture of emotions you couldn't even begin to decipher. 

But nevermind her feelings right now—for all you knew, none of this was actually happening and it was probably just one big dream where you inserted yourself into the world of Stranger Things. That was why you needed Steve to take you home. You didn't know where your home even was. Steve could help.

Sorry Nance, you'll break up with him soon anyway.

"I wanna go home." 

Your words immediately spurred that soft, tender look he adorned earlier back onto his face and he took a step in your direction, arms slowly stretching out towards you.

"Let's go then."

"I'll come too," Nancy's voice came out abrupt and—dare you say—panicked as she stood up just as suddenly as her boyfriend, still gazing at you with that storm in her eyes; clouded but a hint of concern slowly growing the longer she gazed at you.

You could do nothing but attempt to show her as reassuring a smile as you could muster.

It wasn't long after your little scene in the library that you entered Steve's car, marvelling a little at the old model that looked nothing like the Toyotas and Hondas you were used to seeing in your day-to-day life.

Everything was just so surreal, you couldn't help but enter a daze each time you came across something familiar and yet, entirely new (or perhaps, old) at the same time. The seats, the handles, the wheel; they all had this feel about them, one you couldn't quite place your finger on.

"You alright back there, Y/N?"

Your gaze moved to the rear-view mirror, meeting softly with those tender eyes Steve couldn't seem to help when looking at you.

You simply gave him the same shaky smile you had given Nancy earlier. His tendency to care was so sweet, just another trait of his that shot him up the list of your favourite characters from the show. Unfortunately, you couldn't indulge in it for too long, you weren't in your right mind—there was a lot about this whole scenario that you still needed to process; to think through and settle on reasonable conclusions with. 

Until then, you couldn't interact much with Steve. No matter how much you wanted to.

"Alright, we're here." He turned in his seat, resting his elbow on the shoulder to gaze at you with scrunched brows. "You sure you're okay?"

You parted your lips to respond—words barely processing in your dazed mind—but it seemed as though the only other girl in the car already did it for you.

"Jesus, Steve—" Nancy rolled her eyes, "—she's fine, you don't need to baby her so much."

"I'm not..." his face scrunched up a little, as though he was trying to figure out how to react to her phrasing, before he resumed his speech, emphasising, "babying her, I'm just worried, y'know?"

It felt nice to have Steve care for you so much. Distracted you from that dull ache that shrouded your knuckles, fogging your vision up with your baffling situation and leaving you unable to manoeuvre through the vast amount of heavy mist it surrounded you with. 

But that was all it was. A distraction. You didn't have time for those right now.

With that in mind, your voice pierced through their conversation as you announced, "I'm fine. See you tomorrow," before stepping out the car—one foot followed by the other—and shutting the door behind you.

Their calls practically fell on deaf ears as you marched towards the quaint house—confusion clouding your gaze; confusion that was further amplified as you closed in on the building.

The garage was open. And was that...?

"Huh?"

Legs, peeking out from the underside of a car—a tool box sat not too far from them. Then, all too suddenly, the squeak of wheels was followed by a waist, then a torso, and finally, a head.

"What are you doing home? Don't you have practice?"

You scrunched up your nose, scoffing, "why does everyone keep saying that?"

The male sat next to the car narrowed his eyes, jutting out one leg before directing a finger your way and saying—rather pointedly, might you add—"watch it. I'm the oldest."

You blinked.

"Since you're here early, make yourself useful and go get me the wrench out back, would ya?"

You blinked again.

Just who exactly was this guy?

"I'm not getting any younger here, Y/N!"

"Gheez, okay, fine. I'm going."

Guess you had to wait a little longer to set your mind straight.

The dirt felt icky underneath you, squelching with each step you took around the side of the house as it clung to your sneakers, trying desperately to sink you beneath the earth's surface. It was gross. You didn't want to do this. Why the hell were you even listening to this guy?

To make matters worse, a stupid fog was starting to cloud your vision, wafting through the air and obscuring all that was within 10 feet of you. Furthermore (as if there wasn't already enough), a harsh breeze swept over the exposed areas of your skin, rising goosebumps to their surface and causing an involuntary shiver to run down your spine.

Great. Just what you needed.

Well, at least you could see the silhouette of a shed now. And... whatever the hell that thing next to it was.

You squinted, eyes zooming in on the smaller figure ahead of you. Four legs, a tail, and a rather pointy head. Were you seeing things?

It became more apparent as you approached, however, that you were not, in fact, seeing things.

It was large—not enough to be mistaken as a human, but enough to just pass being a dog—and lanky, so very lanky. The way flesh molded around its bones was grotesque, and you shuddered to think of what it would look like without the human-looking skin covering its insides.

The thing that really hit the nail in the coffin, though—that really had your heart jumping out of your chest—was the way its head opened up, almost reminiscent of a flower, except... a flower didn't open to reveal thousands of razor-sharp teeth underneath its petals.

Thousands of razor-sharp teeth that were looking to impale you.

"Shit. Shit."

A demodog.

You were so dead.

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!artist!reader

Part 17: A creature of love, I can't be tamed

masterlist playlist

18+ONLY, series typical violence, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex with someone other than Eddie and reader, hate-fucking (consensual), oral (m receiving), sexual harassment, biker!steve, biker!billy, protective!eddie, rocker!nancy

word count: 6.4k

songs: I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, Wild Child by W.A.S.P. and Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative

The second half of your first night back at the Velvet Hammer heats up with Eddie on stage, Charlene on the premises with Billy, and Steve working through his emotions in a moment of carnal desire.

authors note: It has felt so good to get back to writing this story, I missed our biker boys so much. It will probably be another week or two until the next part, but you won't have to wait too long. Thank you for your patience, I love you.

There came the sound of shrill feedback from the stage, and the drummer twisted his stick around his fingers before clapping the high hat. You took your break and met Eddie over by the carpeted hallway.  The two of you huddled together, out of view from the front half of the bar, including Charlene and Billy.  

“What’s Steve going to do?” You hushed, feeling the familiar anxiety rise inside of you that someone might get hurt again.  

“Nothing for now,” Eddie exhaled.  You put your hand on his chest, and he held it there. “You let me worry about Steve and Charlene, you have enough to do.  I won’t let anything go sideways in here tonight.”

You told him about what you’d just learned from Shana, about Charlene being part owner of the Velvet Hammer, and he gave a slow blink, dragging out a long, ragged breath.  “Why does that not surprise me,” you could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning. “She can’t have this place, it’s ours,” he growled, walking you down the hall and clanking open the heavy metal back door to the alley.  

“But,” you started.  Eddie pulled a pack of smokes out of his front pocket and sparked a flame from his zippo to light the end.  “Isn’t it too late for that? It sounds like she already took it?”

You held two fingers like you were making a peace sign for Eddie to pass you a smoke and he raised his eyebrow at you curiously.  You gave a nod, answering his unspoken question, and he put a second one between his lips to light it for you before passing it over.  

You took a tiny drag and coughed smoke out of your nose at first, but then the second inhale was smoother.  Thanks to so many nights at the Hammer, your throat and lungs were sufficiently coated with tar and ready for the challenge.  

The other owner of the Hammer was a well known real estate investor and builder named Murray Bauman, and he was a friend of the MC.  They’d done several “jobs” for him over the years that were clean by MC standards, but dirty enough to ruin his reputation if they came to light. Murray was also notoriously unfriendly with the Gregson’s, and Eddie wondered how much Charlene had paid, and what kind of scandal she’d dug up on Stephen, to make him give up his share like that.  

Eddie tilted his head back, exposing his throat, to take a long, thoughtful drag, looking up at the clear sky that was blinking full of stars.  “I wish I could go back in time before I ever met Charlene, and avoid her at all costs.”

“I don’t know,” you looked down and kicked the heel of your shoe against your toe.  “She’s awfully determined.  I think she would’ve found you anyway.  Plus, I don’t think it’s you she wants anymore.”

“I feel responsible though,” Eddie muttered, blowing smoke out through tight lips. “For everything that’s happened to the people around me because of her.”

The sound of Nancy saying something into the mic, followed by the crowd cheering, came muffled through the door, and you really wanted to change the subject, to pull him out of his dark thoughts.  “I’d love to see you play tonight,” you told him right before both of your cherries glowed orange at the same time in the dark.  

“I don’t have my guitar here,” he stated the obvious, sucking his tongue on the roof on a sharp inhale, angling his head back to blow smoke up while keeping his eyes on you.  “But I might sing one or two with her.  Just for you.”

“You can sing too?” Your eyes got wide like a little kid watching the twinkling lights on a Christmas tree.

“Hi, baby, have we met?” He scoffed, slipping his bottom lip through his teeth to repress a grin, and then he winked at you and smashed his smoke on the brick wall before throwing it in the dumpster. He caught you by the hips and pulled you flush to him.  “I mean, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

—--------

Back on his stool, Steve rolled a toothpick between his lips while he scanned the crowd, and did his best not to look over at Billy and Charlene. He wasn’t sure what was eating at him more; the fact that she had the nerve to show up after everything, or that she was there with Billy.  

The crew from Lucifer’s Own were known for doing the dirty deeds no other MC would touch.  They ran a high-end escort service on the outskirts of town, and did a lot of blow and opiate smuggling over the border.  It was also a front for an underground fighting ring that was dirty and rigged, and sometimes, the fools who participated ended up with broken bones, or had their lights turned out completely.  

Billy Hargrove and Steve went way back, and they’d actually been friendly acquaintances for a while back in high school, until Billy had pursued a girl Steve liked at the time just to piss him off. Also, to prove to Steve that he could take whoever he wanted.  “Nothing wrong with a little competition, right, Harrington?” Is that what this was? Was Billy escorting Charlene around just to rub it in Steve’s face?

“Yeah, well, you can have her,” Steve mumbled to himself under his breath, thoughts racing so fast that he was starting to talk to himself, head bent to work the end of the toothpick with his fingers.  “Good luck with that one, buddy, you’ll need it.”

There was more feedback from the speakers.  “Hey there Hawkins, who is ready to rock?” Nancy purred into the microphone, one hand gripping the fretboard of her guitar before she slung the strap around her body. People shouted and cheered, and there were a few high-pitched whistles of encouragement.

The bassist with the band looked like a younger version of Eddie, but with a mane of black hair that was thick with tight curls, and the drummer had a black goatee and long, straight hair way past his shoulders.  The backup guitarist looked like he was cut right out of the James Hetfeild playbook.  

“We’re gonna start out with a little something familiar to get y’all warmed up,” Nancy said into the mic.  “This one is called I Hate Myself for Loving You.”

The crowd roared, pounding their fists on the tables.  Nancy said a countdown before she began a slow clap to the beat and the drums kicked in, deep bass vibrating in the walls.  

When Steve looked up, he saw Charlene making her way across the room, either for the payphone or the restrooms, and Steve straightened up, wondering if he should say something to her.  He went up to the bar and patted Thumper on his broad back, asking him to watch the door for a few minutes.  Thumper was three beers and several shots in, but was not yet showing any signs of inebriation.  He fisted a handful of his graying beard and told Steve it was no problem.  

“Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you?

You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two

I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you…”

He followed but he hung back, hiding in the crowd until he saw her go into one of the bathrooms.  When you and Eddie came out from the alley, you found Steve leaning against the wall that was heavily papered in band flyers, next to the payphone.  

Eddie was walking behind you,his hands firm on your hips, moving his legs in time with yours.  You both came to a halt at the sight of Steve, and you had to shove off, back to work, but Eddie took your hand to kiss your knuckles before you walked away.

“Everything cool?” Eddie asked his friend, checking around to make sure no chaos had ensued while he’d been outside with you.  There was a huge crowd there, packed in like sardines.  All of the tables and bar stools were occupied, and plenty of people were taking advantage of the standing room only, blocking most of the walkways.  

“I’m not sure yet, man,” Steve put his head back against the wall, Adam’s apple jutting out.  “But I’ll let you know.”

“I called Van and told him to get over here with Devlin,” Eddie let him know.  “Just in case more of Lucifer’s Own try to cause trouble.”

Steve only nodded, absently, his eyes twitching to the bathroom door every so often.  Eddie clapped Steve a few times on the arm before turning to watch the band as he pushed his way through the crowd.  Nancy made her fingers into devil horns in the air at him and Eddie returned the gesture, raising his arm high.  

“I think of you every night and day

You took my heart and you took my pride away…”

The crowd was stomping their feet to the rhythm and belting out the chorus.  Nancy detached the mic from the stand to make her way across the stage.  

The second Steve saw the door open, he took long strides across the hallway to keep Charlene from exiting, pushing her back inside the single-person bathroom.  She did not protest as he braced the door and locked it behind him, turning to face her with a tight jaw.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Char?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” She hushed it, dropping her gaze as if suddenly she was afraid to look at him.  “I missed you.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlene, you need to stop.” He rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated.  “I’m sorry for how I treated you at the hotel, but this needs to end.”

“But what if I don’t want to stop?” She closed in on him, lifting her hands to hold his face, but he blocked the effort, restraining her at the wrists. “What if I want you so bad, it hurts?”

He met her eyes.  “You miss me and you thought fucking Billy would be the answer?”

“We’re not fucking, it’s not like that with him.  Not like it was with you.”  She struggled a little in his grasp just so he would tighten his grip on her.

Steve scoffed.  “You mean, not like it was with me and Eddie and your husband and every other dude you’ve spread your legs for in this town?” Steve wasn’t one to judge, not with the amount of pussy he’d run through over the years, but still, showing up with one of his rivals was a low blow.  

Charlene slammed forward so that Steve’s back hit the door, her breath hot and urgent on his neck. “No one fills me up like you do.  I need your cock to split me open one last time, Stevie, please.”

She sank to her knees, kissing down his chest as she went, and he let her, releasing her wrists so that she could make quick work of unbuttoning his Levi’s.  She licked around his balls and nuzzled her face in the hair at the base of his thick shaft, making hungry gasps of need as she did so.

He hissed when the fat head of his cock sank into her mouth. “Juss…just one more time,” he groaned as she lapped him up.  She hummed around his length and nodded, looking up at him, agreeing as her lips strained to take the measure of his girth.  

“I know you’re angry, Steve,” she flicked her tongue out over the ridge a few times like a poisonous snake about to strike.  “I want you to take it out on me.”

He fisted a handful of her hair, tight, so that he controlled the movements of her head, and it made her whimper with pleasure.  

—------

The next song Divine Filth sang was an original, a real headbanger that had Nancy growling into the mic and jabbing her devil horn fingers in the air. The bass guitarist’s fingers strummed the keys while the drummer spun his sticks high in the air and caught them.  You noticed that a few of the male patrons were choosing to go outside to take a piss, which meant there was another line at the bathrooms again, but you were too busy to go over and check out why.  

While Erika was on her break, it was your responsibility to go over and check on Billy, since Jackie was working the other side of the room.  Two more of the Coffin Kings had just arrived and Eddie was out in the parking lot having a talk with them, being that it was hard to have a conversation inside with the band playing. 

You made your way over to Billy’s table, noticing that Charlene was nowhere to be found.  One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin while he watched you approach, and you wondered if he knew who you were and who you belonged to.  You also wondered if he gave a shit.

As you got closer, you noticed that he had a pronounced scar from his eye to his jaw, and he didn’t have a ton of tattoos like the other boys, but there was the word “mother” above a heart with a dagger through it just under the sleeve of his t-shirt on his bicep and a Lucifer’s Own insignia on his opposite forearm.  

He was slouched down a bit in his seat, knees spread wide, voice raised to be heard over the music.  “You must be War Machine’s old lady,” he gave you a lift of his chin.

“You are correct,” you said with your best customer service smile.  

“Damn,” his hand made a cage around the pack of smokes on the table so he could pull it toward him.  His eyes locked onto your face, unwavering.  “That son of a bitch always had good taste.”

“If you say so,” you checked over your shoulder, expecting to see Eddie charging over with that dangerous scowl on his face, but he wasn’t inside yet.  You cleared your throat.  “Can I get you anything else?”

He ordered another beer for himself and a tequila for Charlene, even though you knew she was much more of a wine drinker.  

“Just put it on Charlene’s tab,” he said with a wink, alluding to the fact that she was practically your boss now. “But this is for you,” and before you could reach for the 20 dollar bill he had in his hand, he was stuffing it into the waistband of your shorts, fingers grazing your bare skin, watching the discomfort wash over your face as he did so.

You turned on your heel without another word, bee-lining back to the bar, when Eddie stepped through the main door so abruptly, you almost crashed into him.    

Devlin and Van moved around the two of you while Eddie put one hand on your lower back and the other cupped the back of your neck.  “You okay, baby?” He mumbled, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

You nodded, but then Eddie looked over in the direction you had just come and saw Billy there, flicking the flame on his lighter and watching the interaction between the two of you.  You knew what Eddie was looking at by the way his body tensed.  “Did Billy say something to you?”

“I had to wait on his table while Erika was on her break,” you were pulling your boyfriend away as you were talking, practically dragging him back to his seat at the bar.  “Nothing happened, I’m fine.  I just missed you.”

On stage, Nancy lit into a mean guitar solo.

“You sure?” Eddie’s stare was hard.  

“Hey,” you grabbed Eddie’s face, making him look at you. “Baby, can’t you see? He wants to start trouble.  Just ignore him.  Please, for me.”

“Did he touch you?”  His jaw muscles bulged and a dark fell over his brown eyes, making them almost black.

“No baby,” you hummed the lie.  Eddie had quite a bit of common sense, more so than Steve when it came to affairs of the heart, but you knew that someone would get hurt if you told him about the way Billy had slid that money into your shorts.  You had no doubt that Eddie could handle himself, but you didn’t want there to be any more fighting; everyone had already been through enough.  Plus, Billy was not the first guy at the Hammer to overstep, and he wouldn’t be the last.  Sadly, that was the nature of the work, you’d come to realize. 

Eddie took a breath and lowered his forehead to yours, slotting his fingers around your ears so that his thumbs grazed your cheeks.  “I’ll be good, sweetheart,” he promised.

Everyone clapped at the end of the song and then you heard Eddie’s name being said over the speakers.

“We’re lucky enough to have the frontman for Corroded Coffin here with us tonight,” Nancy started.  “And he said he might get up here for a song or two.  What do you say, Munson?”

The crowd went wild at that suggestion, and some even chanted his last name, punching fists into the air.  Nancy motioned him on stage with a few scoops of her fingers.

“I guess I’m doing this,” he said, parting your lips with his tongue for a brief but firm kiss before he made his way to the stage.  The James Hetfield guy was already taking off his guitar to hand it to Eddie before he could protest, and they clapped hands together in greeting.  Your “old man” was adjusting the strap over his shoulder when he looked out over the sea of heads and caught your eye. 

“I love you,” Eddie mouthed, taking the pic off of the chain that he had dangling around his neck.  

—-------

Five minutes earlier, Steve had Charlene bent over the sink in the bathroom, jeans low on his hips, yanking her head back by the throat as he jackhammered himself inside of her.  

“Tighter,” she whined, and his fingers closed in on her windpipe.  He’d pushed her thong to the side and was spitting every so often so that he could watch it slide down her slit and mix with the frothing wet mess of her arousal where his cock sank into her.  He didn’t need the saliva to lube his brutal pace, but he liked the idea of spitting on her, it helped him work through his hatred.  

“God Steve, you’re so fucking good, fuckkk,” she dragged the last word out as hips clapped onto her with rapid, forceful grunts, making her whole body jerk each time he made contact.

He slowed the pace for a few thrusts so that he could spit again, and then he used his thumb to rub the saliva around the pink hole that tightened at his touch.  He’d never been with a woman who had every inch of hair removed like her, she looked like some kind of porn star. He wanted to be in her ass one last time, but it felt too tight and warm where he was.  He was close.

He let go of her throat and clutched her hips on either side in a way that would bruise, angling to finish himself off.  

“You’re such a fucking whore for my cock,” he bit out. He wished she didn’t feel so fucking good.  He wished that his disgust for her didn’t also turn him on in a way that made him uncomfortable.  

Charlene’s eyes rolled back in her head, orgasm mounting rapidly as he buried himself base deep to a point where the line between pleasure and pain was blurred.  She knew this was a farewell reminder, and it made her cry out his name.

“Fuck Steve, I’m cumming,” a few more pumps and she was exploding around his length, legs shaking at the way the wave crashed over her, making her see white.

“Get on your knees,” Steve told her, his hips stuttering.  When she was down in front of him, he jerked himself the rest of the way off onto her outstretched tongue, ropes of cum painting her chin and dripping down to her cleavage.  He made her lick the rest of him clean, and then she sucked her fingers.  

Someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Yeah, hold your fucking horses,” Steve shouted, pulling his jeans up.  He helped Charlene get her bodysuit back on and zipped up.  He almost kissed her, but then he remembered who she was.  

He checked himself in the mirror and slicked his hair back before letting her know she should wait a minute until after he was gone before she followed him out.  She was cleaning the mascara that had leaked down her cheeks, and was about to apply more lipstick, when she caught his eyes on her in the reflection.  

“What if I told you I had a gift for you?” Her expression was coy.

Steve sighed.  “I don’t want anything from you, Char. This was it, I’m done, I mean it.”

She rolled the red lipstick out of its gold tube.  “What if it was something that would change your life?”

He thought about that, wetting his lips.  “Listen, we’re never gonna fuck again.  I don’t care if you buy me a Ferrari.”

“Well, it’s better than a car,” she huffed a small laugh.  “Let’s just call it a…parting gift.  A way for me to say sorry for everything I put you and Eddie through.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and put his back against the door.  “Yeah, well, if this is about to be some grande gesture from you, I’d like to know what the catch is.”

She turned to him, fixing the ends of her hair around her face. “No catch, not this time,” she took a step forward, holding her black clutch in one hand.  “Listen, I know it sounds childish and stupid, but I think I…I think I fell in love with you.” She furrowed her brow as if the sentiment didn’t make sense to her, as if she’d never grasped the weight of the words before.

Steve couldn’t help himself, he rolled his eyes and barked a laugh, thoroughly amused. 

“I can’t change the past,” she tried to push her chest out, to get her statuesque posture back.  “But I can try to make it up to you.  To both of you.”

“Yeah?” Steve gave her a bored shrug.  “Personally, I think you’re way past the point of redemption.”

“Maybe,” she pressed her lips together and took hold of the door handle.  “I guess we’ll see.”

—------

All of your attention was eyes front on Eddie as he leaned over to discuss something with Nancy, lengthening the strap on his guitar as he spoke.  You barely noticed someone trying to make their way through the crowd until Steve bumped into your shoulder, making you sway on your feet.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he caught you and helped you find your balance.  “I didn’t see you there.”

Steve looked…disheveled, and his face was flushed, as if he’d just run around the block. There were lines in his hair from raking his fingers through it so many times.

“You good?” You called after him, but all he offered was a “thumbs up” over his shoulder.  

It was barely a minute before you caught sight of Charlene coming out of the hallway, following in his wake.  She had a pink flush to the pale skin of her throat, almost a perfect handprint impression, and your brain was busy putting the pieces together when Nancy got back on the mic. 

“This one is called Wild Child,” Nancy started on the guitar and people in the crowd got crazy again.  The Hell’s Belle next to you whistled so loud, it almost blew your eardrum out.  You weren’t too familiar with the band W.A.S.P. before Eddie, but you knew the song, and waited eagerly to hear his voice as he leaned in, moving his fingers along the strings.

“I ride, I ride the winds that bring the rain

A creature of love, and I can't be tamed

I want you, 'cause I'm gonna take your love from him

And I'll touch your face and hot burning skin

No, he'll never ever touch you like I do…”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he sang the first bit, hair hanging down his shoulders, muscles flexing under the ink that covered his forearms and hands.  When his eyes opened, he found you in the crowd, and your heart swelled at the way he cracked a smile around the words at the sight of you.  

“So look in my eyes and burn alive, the truth

I'm a wild child, come and love me

I want you…”

God, he was magic up there.  He looked like a natural, holding that guitar in his hands, the way his fingers flew deftly to each note.  

And he was all yours.  

The chorus came and you sang the words, smiling so hard already, your cheeks hurt.  You’d never known your eyes to “sparkle” like a cartoon before, but you felt like that’s what they were doing. 

“My heart's in exile, I need you to touch me

'Cause I want what you do

I want you”

Someone grabbed your elbow, and you spun around to see who it was.

Jackie had a full tray in her hand, trying to balance it amidst the moving bodies.  “Hey, are you on the floor right now? Don’t mean to be a bitch, but I need you.  A table full of jarheads just showed up.” 

“Oh shit, right,” you’d honestly forgot where you were for a moment, you’d been so caught up in that Munson Magic.  You took another glance at the stage, wanting to catch Eddie’s eye, but he was looking down at his hands, concentrating on where they worked the guitar.  

The table in your section that Jackie mentioned had seven guys in their mid-twenties sporting that type of “high and tight” haircut that you saw almost exclusively with members of military or law enforcement, and you took a deep breath, because you never knew what the vibe would be for those types of men who visited the Hammer.  Either they’d be extremely polite like they just came from church, or they’d be vile and disrespectful.  

“What’ll it be tonight, boys?” You asked, sidling up to their table.  “Buy one pitcher of draft and get the next half off.” 

They all turned to appraise you, not caring that the way their lewd stares locking on your body and tits made you uncomfortable.

“See, I told you,” the dark haired one said to the one in the red and white striped polo shirt.  “The bitches here are super hot.”

You gulped, doing your best to restrain from looking as disgusted as you felt while they talked about you like you weren’t even there.  

“How much for you to sit in my lap?” One of them asked.

“How much for you to suck me off?” One of them whispered, and the whole table guffawed into the type of laughter that was not warranted for something that was so not funny.

You checked over your shoulder for Steve, and he appeared to be escorting someone out who’d just been cut off.  There was a bench outside, and he always had them wait there while he called a member of their family or a taxi to come pick them up.  The guy was having a hard time getting his legs to work, and Steve had to practically carry him out. 

You glanced up at the stage when the other song ended, and you could tell Eddie was searching for you, and so you stuck your hand up in the air to catch his attention.  

“This one is for my girl,” he pushed hair out of his face and the sentiment made you freeze.  A goofy grin stretched across your face and you let out an actual giggle.  You were very familiar with the opening notes of Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative.  

“So, a pitcher of beer, then?”  You asked, distracted, but in a much better mood than you were a few seconds ago.  The guys at the table were too busy being crass to decide what they wanted to drink, so you chose for them.  They agreed on the pitcher, and ordered a round of shots. 

You kept your attention on Eddie as you made your way across the space, and your heart was in your throat at how proud you were to be his.  His voice was deep and powerful, and it seemed like no one could pull their eyes away. The air was a bit humid inside, and you could see a sheen of sweat on his skin already glistening, bangs sticking to his forehead.  He’d taken off his Coffin Kings cut and shirt, so he was up there in a ribbed, white tank of the Hanes variety, exposing the wash of dark tattoos over his shoulders and arm muscles that bulged from hours upon hours of manual labor.  

“I want to live with a cinnamon girl

I could be happy the rest of my life with her

A dreamer of pictures, I run in the night

You see us together, chase the moonlight…”

At the bar, you considered letting Van and Devlin know that there were some guys there who might start trouble now that Steve was distracted, but then you remembered that you were the bad bitch who stabbed Craig in the balls and brought him to his knees—-you could handle a few young douchebags.  

You gave Shana the drink order while Eddie’s deep voice bellowed, “my cinnamon girl, my cinnamon girl…” to the collective swooning of the crowd.  

You waited on two other couples, lingering in the middle of the room so that you could see Eddie more clearly, dragging your feet before you had to return to the guys with the matching haircuts.  

You took a cleansing breath and squared your shoulders before heading back.  You tried not to be bothered by the way the dudes checked you out as you put the drinks down.  When you were finished, the guy closest to you, with close-set eyes and a thick neck, ran his hand up the back of your leg.

“Hey,” your stare hardened on him and you stepped away, eyebrows pinching together.  “No touching.”

The guys all snickered at that, as if it was so funny that they all knew they weren’t supposed to touch the staff, but they still got away with it.  

“No he’s sorry, really,” said the tall, skinny one who hadn’t spoken up yet.  His face was unreadable, you couldn’t tell if he was being a shitheel or not.  The table fell silent for a beat.  “But we would really like to know how much it would cost for handjobs, all around.  Is there a group price for you girls?”

More idiotic cackling.

You turned to leave them, to go find Steve, to let him know you needed his assistance, but the one with the blonde hair and Limp Bizkit shirt caught you by the arm, digging his fingers in, and yanked you back so that his other hand could roam the curve of your ass.  “Just a little feel, baby, we’ll tip good,  I promise.”

You pushed him off and were just about to yell for Steve or Thumper when you saw the guy across the round table get his face smashed into the wood, so hard that blood splattered and you could hear the sick crack of breaking bone.

You were surprised to see Billy there, standing behind the one who was clutching his broken nose and wailing.  He was smiling, cigarette bobbing between his lips.  “I think you bozo’s should apologize to the lady.”

You hadn’t heard the music stop, didn’t realize that the commotion had drawn most of the attention to you.

In a flash, the guy in the Limp Bizkit shirt was ripped from his seat, and there was Eddie, picking him up by the throat to punch him across the face, sending him flying.

The impact made saliva and possibly a tooth go spitting from his mouth and you screamed at the shock of it.  

“Eddie look out!” You shouted.  The tall one was about to take a cheap shot at Eddie’s ribs while he sank another punch into the guy’s jaw, but you came down with your serving tray as hard as you could and nailed him.

“Holy shit,” Steve cursed when he stuck his head inside to see what the commotion was.  Thumper was nowhere to be found, and Steve figured he was taking a piss.  Starting brawls inside the Hammer was not protocol.  Bouncers were always encouraged to take everything outside, but now it was too late.  

“Get her out of here!” you heard Steve’s voice, he was talking to Devlin, and then you were being pulled back by cautious hands, away from the chaos. 

One of the jarheads was just about to break a beer glass over Eddie’s head, but Billy showed up out of nowhere and kicked him in the back, sending the asshole flying right into Steve’s awaiting fist.  The guy’s body crashed into a table, shattering glasses, and making the other patrons scatter.  

“You better leave this one for me, Harrington,” Billy smiled and wiggled his tongue.  “Wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours.”

Billy was helping them, and that was a twist you hadn’t expected.  Perhaps it wasn’t so much for them as for himself, since you could tell Billy had been looking for a fight all night.  

Steve got one of the other guys in a choke hold and began to drag him outside.  Billy made wide eyes at one of the leftover trouble makers and charged after him, making the guy shriek like he was about to pee his pants before running from the building.    

While the one Eddie had been punched was babbling at the foot of unconsciousness on the ground, he took hold of the one with the close-set eyes and the thick neck who had rubbed your leg first.

Eddie had been watching, and quick to cut off before the end of the song to jump down from the stage in a blinding rage.

Devlin held you loosely by the arms, but you shook him off, and stood next to Shana and Erika, continuing to keep your distance for the sake of Eddie and Steve’s peace of mind, and wincing each time one of the other dudes took a hard hit from one of the Coffin Kings.  

Eddie took the guy by the shirt and sent a punch into his stomach.  Mister Thick Neck doubled over but then Eddie took him by the throat and slammed him into the nearest wall.  Eddie had his fist winding back for a punch when Steve shouted his name to get his attention.  

The rest of the dickheads had been escorted outside by a few Hell’s Belle’s, while the rest of the crowd kept their distance.  You saw Charlene in the far corner, touching up her lipstick in a compact mirror, seemingly unphased by it all.  

“Not in here,” Steve pleaded with Eddie, breathlessly.  “Like you said.”

Eddie’s eyes were black and cold like that of a shark.  His mouth trembled with the urge to actually bite into the guy’s face, to mutilate him with his bare teeth and make him beg for mercy.

Eddie banged the guy's body into the brick wall again, locking him there with his forearm.  “Apologize to my girl,” he growled.

The buzz cut guy coughed and struggled, having a hard time breathing. “I don’t know who your girl is, man,” he was only able to squeak out a mild protest under the pressure of Eddie’s grip.  

“Your waitress,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth.

The guy against the wall tried to turn his head to look for you, but Eddie squeezed his face.  “You don’t get to look at her,” Eddie fumed.  “Just say you’re sorry.”

Multiple desperate “sorry’s” followed, and then Eddie told Steve to get the guy’s wallet to take all of the cash out.  A quick count said there was about a hundred bucks.

“That’ll be her tip,” Eddie announced, dragging him by the shirt collar to take him outside with the rest.  

They were all told to empty their wallets of their cash, and Steve made a scene of noting the addresses on their driver’s licenses.  

“I have a memory like a steel trap,” Steve lied, pointing to his temple, grabbing the guy in the red and white polo by the side of his neck, getting up in his face.  “If you so much as walk by this place ever again, or tell the cops about this, you’ll see me in your nightmares. Now, get the fuck out of here before I call your mommies.”

You sank in next to Eddie’s side just outside the main entrance, and he put his arm around you.  “Will things ever calm down around here?” You asked with a heavy sigh, watching the broken group scurry and limp away down the street.

Eddie gave a low laugh and hugged you a bit tighter.  “God, I hope so, baby.”

Divine Filth started another song, to try and get things back to normal, and most of the crowd returned to their drinks as if there had not been actual bloodshed just five minutes ago.

No one but Shana heard the phone next to the cash register ring over the sound of the music, but after a few seconds, she shrugged by you and Eddie to stick her head out and scan the sidewalk.

"Steve?" She craned her neck to look for him.

"Yeah, that's me," he came from around the back side of the door, flicking his cigarette, knuckles split and bloody again.

"Some guy named Dustin called," she said, merely passing on a message. "He said Suzie just went into labor."

-----

Love love you all for cheering this story on, hope you enjoyed this one. Your thoughts and reblogs are appreciated and cherished.

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[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53

“You wish,” Steve teases, then looks wide-eyed at Robin. “What about all the pictures we have?”

“We’ll take new ones,” she assures him, then grins. “And hey, maybe Starcourt will be built, without the Russian base underneath.”

Steve hums. “Maybe then I could avoid one of the concussions from Billy.”

Robin freezes suddenly. “Steve,” she says, “is it a good idea for the party to meet Max? Because of the first concussion from Billy? That wasn’t Upside Down related, was it?”

Steve grimaces. “He’d been Flayed at that point, yeah. Even if he is a racist asshole, I can’t imagine him coming after us like that again.”

Robin hums. “But if he does-”

“Tell me,” Eddie says suddenly, “does he like Mary Jane? Because I can make sure he never sees her again if he goes after Steve.”

Robin blinks at him, then begins to grin. “Sorry, Stevie, Eddie’s my new favorite.”

Eddie laughs and fist-bumps her. “Likewise, Birdie.”

“Hey!” Steve says, faux-affronted. It’s ruined by the grin he can’t hide.

El pokes gently at Steve’s arm, then the waffle iron when he looks at her. “It’s done.”

“Ah,” he says, opening it. “Thank you, Ellie. Mind getting me a plate?” He grins at her. “Without grabbing it?”

El grins. Without moving, she opens a cabinet, floats a plate out to Steve, then shuts the cabinet again. She wipes underneath her nose, then grins at Steve. “No blood!”

“That’s great!” He celebrates with her, offering her a high-five. “You think you’re ready?”

“I’m still scared,” she tells him. “But yes. I do.”

“Y’know something else?” Steve asks. “Vecna needed four more years to be strong enough to do what he did. You needed two more days. I think you’re much stronger than he is right now.”

“Speaking of the big bad,” Eddie interjects, nibbling on a corner of his waffle, “shouldn’t we go over the plan?”

Steve sighs. “Probably,” he agrees.

“I think we should wait for everyone,” Alli says. “Let’s just have as normal a morning as we can for right now.”

Steve smiles at his sister. “Sure, Al,” he says, then rolls his eyes when she pulls him into a hug and ruffles his hair.

“Love you, Bubba,” she murmurs into his ear, and he can’t help but to melt into her hug.

“Love you too, Al,” he murmurs back, then grins at her. “How about grilled cheese when we all make it outta this intact?”

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” she nods, then steps away. “I’m gonna call Cass. Come and get me when everyone’s here?”

“Will do,” he nods, and she smiles in response as she walks off.

Eddie pulls his feet up onto the counter he’s sitting on, looping his arms around his knees. “So, Cassidy is Alli’s-?”

“Girlfriend,” Steve nods. He takes another waffle out of the iron and scrapes the last of the batter into it. “It makes me wonder how I would’ve ended up, if I had her the entire time, y’know? Cause I know I was an asshole. And I’m trying not to be anymore.”

“You’re succeeding,” both Robin and Eddie say at the same time, then excitedly point at each other.

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “Thanks. But I wonder, if I’d had her the entire time, would I have ever gotten as bad as I did? Would I have ever worked at Scoops or Family Video and met you, Robin? Would any of his have ever happened in the first place?”

He only notices his hand is shaking when Robin gently takes his fork and puts it down, then grabs both his hands in hers. “Squeeze,” she requests, and he does, letting out a harsh breath and resting their foreheads together.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“Shuddup,” Robin says. He laughs.

After a few seconds, he pulls away to look at her. “Am I being crazy?”

“I think you’re being exactly as sane as taking this mission in the first place makes either of us, Dingus, I don’t think either of us were all there in the first place.”

Steve giggles. “I think you may be right.”

“Maybe you would’ve been different,” Eddie says. He’s taking the last waffle out of the iron. “Maybe you wouldn’t have. Maybe all of this would’ve happened, and maybe it wouldn’t have. Maybes aren’t gonna change anything that’s currently happening. All we can do is our best to get through it.”

El slips between Steve and Robin and wraps her arms around Steve’s waist. “I can do things you can’t,” she says quietly. “But I can’t see the future. I don’t know what could’ve happened. But I know I’m glad that you’re here now.”

Steve sighs contentedly and wraps her in his arms. “Me too.”

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[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 8

Part 7 / AO3 Link

Eddie didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky. Not only was he dating the most beautiful man, but he had a pretty cool kid too. Anytime a child asked if he had a favorite student, Eddie of course said no. But if he haaaad to pick. Well, Shawn answered his questions regularly, didn’t get into arguments with the other kids, and could be pretty damn funny. 

Let’s just say that Eddie would think twice about dating a different student’s parent. 

He had no such reservations here. Both Steve and Shawn were wonderful and Eddie loved getting to see them together on the weekends. He and Steve had basically agreed that weekdays would be dedicated to work for now so that Saturday and Sunday could go with no interruptions.

On weekends when they couldn’t meet, there was the magic of texting and sometimes even video calls. Eddie couldn’t get enough of Steve and the feeling was mutual. More than once, they had stayed up late, getting each other hot over the phone.

Steve hadn’t felt this desired in years, or this horny. He wanted Eddie so badly, but… Well, Steve had no problem sending Shawn out for a sleepover if he wanted some alone time with Eddie. It was just, well, there would definitely be a lingering smell. Steve had pressed his nose against Eddie’s neck enough times to know he loved the way he smelled. Even so, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to be completely surrounded by the scent of an alpha.

There was also the fact that eventually their scents would cling to each other and that would make the tongues of parents and faculty wag like crazy.

The good moments with Billy had been tainted beyond repair. And as silly as it sounded, he wanted his first time going all the way with Eddie to be special. He didn’t want to think of Billy at all, not for one moment.

“Steve, you’re a grown ass man”, Robin said. “Just do the do.”

“Whatever happened to romance?”, Steve asked while looking up nice restaurants.

----------------------------

Eddie was ready for the day to be over. Two and a half meltdowns, one kid pushed another, which of course, caused an argument, at least of them had been accused of cursing, and they didn’t even get to the social studies lesson he had planned. 

It boggled his mind how throughout the day he’d be told ‘Mr. Munson, I wanna go hooooome’ but when it came time to pack up they moved like molasses. Back when he was a student, he moved like the wind when dismissal came, but maybe that was just him. He walked the kids outside where they either met their parents, a bus, or an aftercare provider.

Eddie lit like a candle when he saw Steve walking up and nearly reached out to hug him, but quickly brought his arms back to his side and hoped no one noticed.

“Good day today?”, Steve asked both him and Shawn.

“Yeah, but not for Mr. Munson”, Shawn answered for both of them while hugging Steve’s leg. “He had to correct a lot of people.”

Steve smiled while patting his pup’s head, wishing he could reach out to comfort Eddie. “Talk later?”, he asked.

“Please”, Eddie sighed. 

With a nod, Steve left with Shawn, allowing Eddie to finish dismissal with the rest of his students. When Eddie finished, he immediately called Steve up while gathering his things to head home.

“Shawn gave me quite the run down”, Steve said the moment he picked up. “Is it normal for first graders to use profanity?”

“Only the ones whose parents use it in front of them. You can usually tell who do it often enough for it to rub off on their kids.” 

Eddie walked out of the school and switched from his phone to bluetooth so that he could keep talking while he drove. And during that drive, he gave Steve his side of the day, all the nitty-gritty details. By the end of it, he definitely felt like a weight had been lifted. Talking to Steve tended to have that effect.

“Alright, enough about my day. Tell me how your day with the Puberty Patrol went.”

Steve laughed. “They’d absolutely lose it if they heard you call them that. And today went by fine. But I’m getting the sneaking suspicion of some changing dynamics.”

“Oh…as in…?”

“Yeah”, Steve said. One of his students had presented that past weekend. “You can always tell because the more self conscious ones will blast their bodies with Axe body spray.”

“Ah, an alpha”, Eddie correctly surmised. “Wait, the kids are still using Axe? Would’ve thought they’d move on to like, I don’t know, whatever their favorite influencer is touting. Anyway, enough about the little ones, you free next Saturday?”

Steve checked his calendar before answering. “I am. You planning something?”

“Yeah. Get a babysitter for Shawn.”

---------------------------

Saturday night came and Steve dressed for the occasion. Eddie had invited him to a gig to see him play. It would be his first time doing so for a non-school function. Steve didn’t have a ton of clothes that would fit in with a club venue nowadays (a side effect of becoming a parent and a teacher) but he had a couple of pieces that would let him slide. 

He wore his darkest jeans, which were a navy blue and a leather jacket on top of that. He had a t-shirt from an old band under the jacket. Beneath everything was a black thong that Eddie was most definitely seeing tonight even if Steve had to reserve a spontaneous hotel room.

They agreed to meet at the venue, since Eddie had to arrive early for sound check and all that. When Steve got to the bar, he smiled, seeing the instruments already set up. 

“Baby!”, a voice shouted over the crowd and then Steve was pulled to Eddie. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“You’re one to talk”, Steve said. Eddie’s outfit wasn’t too different from his usual casual wear. But today his hair was in a half up style and he had this eyeliner on that made Steve want to gaze at him all night. Good thing he’d be able to do just that.

There was time for Eddie to introduce him to the rest of the band. All great guys who had jobs Steve never would have imagined. Nurse in training, engineer, and a secretary. They all seemed like nice guys and Steve enjoyed talking with them while they waited for showtime. When it came, Eddie kissed both of Steve’s knuckles, then his lips.

“I’m gonna be looking for you out in the audience”, he promised.

“I’ll be here”, Steve promised back. 

Now, see, Steve never considered himself a fan of metal. He liked the hard guitar riffs and intense drum beats just fine. He simply never got into it enough to pick out any song or artist. And that probably wouldn’t change. But Eddie.

Eddie.

He looked downright electric playing on stage. Like sparks were coming from his fingers and setting all his nerves on fire. Forget the hotel room, Steve was ready to have him in one of these bathrooms. There was a twinge of shame, reminding him that he was too old for that, but the greater part of him didn’t care. Just wanted Eddie anyway that he could have him.

At the end of their performance, Steve got to Eddie the moment he was off stage, cutting off anyone who thought they might have a chance to meet his eye. Steve’s hands buried in his hair as he kissed him.

“That was incredible. Do your friends need you right now?”

“Uh, no, no they don’t”, Eddie replied, a little dazed from the kiss.

“Good. Because I need you now.”

Eddie had just enough time to shoot his friends a look that he tried to put all the meaning into as Steve dragged him off. They got outside and he got his head in the game, pressing Steve against one of the walls and sucking a mark onto his neck. 

“You that desperate for me?”, he growled into his ear.

“Yes”, Steve whined, having no need or even way to deny it when Eddie could already smell it on him in the fresh air of the night.

Eddie’s hands went to cup his ass and Steve felt a thrill go through him when the alpha dipped his thumbs into the waistband of his pants. When Eddie froze, Steve knew he’d been caught. Then Eddie dug his hands right inside, making Steve gasp and cling to him.

“Stevie, Stevie, baby, love”, Eddie chanted against his neck while kneading his ass and pressing their hips together.

“Take me home, alpha.”

Part 9 coming soon

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog @hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre

[weirdbrothers]

Stranger Things Fic Rec

Let me get one thing out of the way: absolutely nobody asked for this. But I love these pairings and stories so much I had to share it with you all. This is heavy on Steve/Billy with some Steve/Eddie sprinkled in.

If you've never read Stranger Things fic, or when you saw this post thought "oh yeah, that 80s kid monster show" I encourage you to give these a try! You don't have to know much about the show besides the bare bones of the plot. (And my ask box is always open for Qs!) If you like angsty teenage boys who are in denial about their feelings and hate their hometown, read on.

Now, on to the porn and depravity!

if i stare too long by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | Steve/Eddie/Billy

After the end of the world, Billy Hargrove is a mess. But at least he has company.

Notes: Literally one of my favorite fics of all time, I will never shut up about it. Gay threesomes. Angst. A sweltering midwestern summer. Homoerotic undertones that builds to filthy gay porn. The vibes are all there.

Pressure by Yellow_Blue_Books | Steve/Eddie

"You never did tell me your name," he called at Munson's back. The older man was already in the trees when he turned back around and stated his name, eyes bright and grin wide. Steve never heard it; he couldn't read his lips from so far a distance between them. So instead, he watched Munson walk away; the teen, now wide awake, went to sit on the hood of his car to wait for Hopper to show. On that crisp, cold January night in 1985 - Steve Harrington heard the sound of Eddie Munson's voice for the first and last time. He never even knew his name.

Notes: The only WIP on this rec list, and totally worth the wait. Great characterization. So many little tidbits of information that have me squealing with joy. But also dark and grounded in reality.

chokechain by @brawlite | Steve/Billy (and Tommy is there)

Tommy H. invites Billy to a party at Steve's house. Billy expected hot chicks and booze, but when he shows up, there's only the latter. Steve and Tommy teach Billy that in Hawkins, sometimes you just gotta make do.

Notes: When I think of this fic I literally start sweating its so sexy. The fic that got me hooked on Steve/Billy and gay Steve in general. Its so subtle and gritty and grimy and hot. And Tommy is egging everyone on, yet oblivious, just how I like him.

so good at being in trouble, so bad at being in love by @the-copperkid Steve/Billy

Steve's sophomore year, Billy showed up.

Notes: A fandom classic. The perfect example of Steve/Billy getting together in world, and dealing with their feelings (+ porn, because I'm me and I need porn in all my fic).

We'll Go Down in History by @eternalgoldfish | Billy/Steve

Hawkins High takes a field trip to Baltimore to see historical sites and Steve would rather jump out his hotel window.

Notes: So much teenage angst and tomfoolery in this one! A little more lighthearted than others on the list. Gets to that theme in ST that I love: the idle hands of teenage boys are the devil's playthings.

Dom 4 Hire by @lazybakerart

Steve is naked, on his hands and knees, in the apartment he shares with his high school sweetheart for a man he only just met in person five minutes ago.

Notes: From the second I saw Steve Harrington on screen I knew that boy was a sub dying for someone to call him a good boy. And Billy is just the dom for the job. My only complaint is that I wish this was longer!

Maybe we're something uncool by desert_dino | Steve/Billy

It’s only noon; Billy knows neither of them have work that evening, and their shitty gen-ed biology lab was cancelled. They’ve only been hanging out for an hour, and maybe Billy isn’t quite done fucking around with Harrington yet. Maybe he’ll indulge him.

Notes: Cocky Billy is what the world needs! Great banter and dialogue. Just a snapshot of what I imagine their afternoons would look like, and the teens of Hawkins would be like "why the fuck are they always hanging out?" totally oblivious.

slipping through by sightetsound | Steve/Billy

It was the weed, and the pilfered whiskey from Steve’s daddy dearest they passed back and forth. It was actually how Steve’s eyes caught the moonlight. How his mouth moved when he spoke, and how it curved on a grin Billy would call relaxed when they were alone. Admitting as much felt too much like giving ground, and so it was the weed and whiskey.

Notes: Really bittersweet, heartfelt, and sincere. A different kind of pace for this pairing.

You Get Too Close by @trashcangimmick | Steve/Billy

Steve sits at the back of the bus on the way to a basketball match in Gary. Billy Hargrove sits right across from him.

Notes: Be for real- when we saw that basketball and shower scene we were all hoping it would go in the direction of this fic. Gives me the vibe of an 80s porno in the best way.

Reflecting on the Longest Wavelength by @trashcangimmick | Billy/Hopper

Billy’s heat hits early. Jim Hopper happens to find him before anyone else does. 

Notes: This pairing is a little rouge, I don't see it often and its hard to pin down for me past all the basic tropes. I really like the A/B/O world-building here and find myself returning to it.

[ch3rrywond3rland]

need more eddie roundtree fics on this website i’ll take anything from light smut to tooth-rotting fluff but please

OF COURSE DARLING!! your wishes r my commands. I've got a few requests for him, as soon as I get those out there's Eddie content for u guys!!

FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF cause my man is not happy enough tbh. (Don't worry tho, i have some smut requests i hope I get out this week!!)

ALSO, lets pretend Cami and Eddie never slept together, for the sake of their happiness. Eddie's hate for Billy simply comes from feeling like a second class citizen in a first class resort, like in the book!

Forever here, with you

Y/N Roundtree: Look, I love you. But I hated Billy. I say 'hated' because I haven't seen him in years, but, he was a proper asshole. I hope he's honest about that. You have no idea how many times I've had to keep Eddie from killing him.

Eddie Roundtree: He would be dead, probably, if it wasn't by Y/N. I think she might've been the one think that kept me grounded during the band. That kept it going for me. (Pause) Actually, no, I don't think. I know.

—————————

The band is playing in Las Vegas, for a sold out venue. It's one of their first shows for the tour, but so far, it's been going great.

The River is coming to an end, which means also is the show. As the final note plays, Billy is quick to thank the fans and leave stage, everyone following behind.

I start making my way to the back, where I'll be taken backstage. I finally reach the band once I'm out of the ocean of sweaty bodies and past security. As I make my way towards Eddie, I see Billy saying something to him and storming off. I can see Eddie's face from here, and he doesn't seem to be very happy. He is not angry, either, as he usually is after arguments with Billy.

"Hey!" I greet once I reach him, and his face lights up a little.

"Hey, gorgeous." His arms lift me up and spin me around, hugging me as tight as they can.

"Everything alright, Ed?"

He sighs deeply and rubs my arm. "Let's go back to the hotel, please?"

"Of course."

The hotel isn't that far away and the band was probably going to hang out backstage for a few more hours, so we decided to walk. It is a starry Tuesday night and the streets are not as busy. The shiny signs are enough to light the sidewalks. It's a silent walk. I know he's got things to say but I also know that any problem between him and Billy is too bad to talk about in public.

It doesn't take long to reach the Las Vegas Hilton, the receptionist greets us and I offer him a small smile. Eddie and I go into the elevator, hand in hand, and soon reach the comfort of our room.

I lay in bed and he needily cradles my body and sets himself on top of it, wrapping me in a bear hug. I run my fingers through his sweaty hair, feeling his chest rise and fall steadily.

"He didn't let me change some notes on the bass"

I sadden at the thought, knowing how sad this type of thing actually makes him feel. I try my best to comfort him with my actions as I think about something to say.

"He is an idiot."

He laughs against my neck and I smile a little.

"Okay, but actually; I know he gets to you and you have every reason to be as mad as you are. But you love the band, Eddie. And they need you. I am here for you, whenever and forever, you know that."

"I love you." He rasps onto my ear, lifting his head and pecking my lips. He holds both my arms against the headboard with a hand and keeps filling my face with quick kisses. I laugh andbfeel his lips against my teeth.

He abruptly stops and looks at me, in all seriousness.

"Marry me?"

—————————

Y/N: "What?!" (Laughs) I didn't know if he was being serious or not.

Eddie: Of course I was being serious. I knew I wanted to marry that woman the day I met her. I just had to wait for long enough to not seem a weirdo.

—————————

"Marry me?" He repeats the question with a laugh. My eyes water and I hug him. "Is that a 'yes'?"

"Of course it is a 'yes'."

"Great, let's go."

"Right now?!" He shoots me his million dollar smile.

"Of course right now, I can't wait to marry you."

I blush at the comment and make my way towards my suitcase, busting it open to look for something that may work like wedding attire.

"You do that, I'll go call Warren."

"Can you ring up Karen and Daisy for me, please?"

"Of course darling." He walks behind my body that seats on the floor. His hand grabs my neck, turning upwards my head and leaning down to give my lips a quick peck before leaving the room to look for a telephone booth.

I decide to wear a silver, long-sleeved dress. It's transparent enough you can see the outline of what's underneath, but I doubt it will matter. It reaches mid-thigh and is loose on my shoulders. I keep on the black boots I'm wearing and apply a bit of gloss to my lips. I see Eddie come back into the room in a forest green suit, no shirt underneath.

We both admire each other quietly. He clears his throat, eyes not leaving my body. I don't intend to peel mine off of his either.

"Warren was in his room, he let me borrow this so he's walking with us. Daisy and Karen are on their way to the chapel right now, they are taking Graham with them."

I thank him with a quick smile and kiss.

—————————

Warren Rojas: I don't remember much of that wedding, either. I know it didn't take us long to arrive to the chapel, tho. It was one of those classic ones in Las Vegas.

Karen Sirko: It was a beautiful chapel, very traditionally Vegas.

Graham Dunne: I remember Elvis Presley married them. (Laughs) Not actually him, you know. He'd pass a little less than a year before...great man.

Daisy Jones: I...don't remember much. (Laughs) I spent most of after the shows getting high and drunk. But I do remember that, once they said 'I do', Eddie picked her up in his arms and ran to the hotel, that was a few buildings down the street. We all ran behind them, screaming and popping champagne.

—————————

"Eddie Roundtree, do you take Y/N L/N to be your unlawfully wedded wife? To love, cherish and respect 'till the end?"

He grins at me and I do the same. "I do."

"Y/N L/N, so you take Eddie Roundtree to be your unlawfully wedded husband? To love, cherish and respect 'till the end?"

"I do."

"Then by the power given to me five minutes ago by this cheap chapel, I pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Roundtree. You may kiss the bride; I've got to attend another one of this."

We laugh and then kiss, cheers erupt from our drunk friends that stand besides us.

—————————

Billy Dunne: No, I was not invited to the wedding. I also couldn't care less, honestly. I always knew Eddie had something against me, I just payed no mind. I never had anything against him, I always tried to make him happy.

Eddie: We did actually get married, by the way. After the band split up an everything.

Y/N: It was the best day of my life. After the day our daughter was born, of course. But that's a story for another time.

[smolkiwi98]

Hi! If it's okay, i have a request. Reader's good friends with steve and eddie (maybe childhood friends with one and they all got close later on) and now she's dating billy but they've been hiding it and not sure how they'd react giving their history with him. Anyway, she's been neglecting herself lately, not sleeping or eating well and she won't listen to them, but they're shocked to find her with billy and he's being all loving and soft and even kinda strict in order to take care of her

Okay! I'm sorry this took so long, but here ya go! I'm sorry if it seems rushed.

WARNING! mention of depression, anxiety, insomnia, getting bullied (just quickly mentioned), mother not really liking kid (not detailed...just quickly mentioned), fluff, angst(?), not eating, not sleeping, and I think that's it. Oh! not proofread!

requests open > here

masterlist

Secret Love

“Why would you sell to him!? He’s an asshole!” Steve exclaimed “Steve, it’s not that big of a deal. I needed some money and he wanted to come back and buy some stuff.” Eddie said casually. You sighed and sat there quietly on the couch as you watched the two, “Eds…you know what he was like in high school. Why would you want to continue to sell to him?” Eddie just rolled his eyes at Steve “Maybe because it’s my job?” He said like it was obvious…which it kinda was. “Billy needs to just find someone else. He was an ass to me and you.” Steve said, sitting down next to you. You hated when these two would bicker. Sometimes it was funny, but when it was over something like this it was annoying. Eddies a dealer…he’s going to encounter people we don’t really like, but Billy is different. Steve and Eddie had their reasons for hating Billy but you had nothing but love for him! 

You and Billy had met in high school. Junior year and you immediately turned into the other girls and drooled over him. His blue eyes, thick eyelashes, the way his jeans fit him…he had a chokehold on you and the other girls in the school. But unfortunately your two friends had beef with the guy. You’ve known Eddie since you were about 9 when you moved into the trailer park with your mom. The two of you became best friends almost immediately. Then 8th grade hit where the two of you met Steve. Eddie was a little jealous of Steve at first because he felt like he was losing his best friend which wasn’t the case at all. After a month or two Steve and Eddie were bonding over…well everything that 8th grade boys like. Except for the music and movie taste. They were still complete opposites when it came to those subjects. And then high school happened…and then Billy happened. In the beginning Billy had no idea Steve and Eddie were your best friends…brothers really. All Billy thought was some jock was going to get in the way and some freak dealer. Eddie hated meeting with him, but he paid well. The only thing they found they had in common was their love for Metallica. Steve and Billy? There was nothing there. Seemed like nothing but hate was there for those two…which meant Eddie had an issue with Billy. Steve and Eddie knew you had a little crush on him and they picked on you all the time about it, but at the same time wished you wouldn’t have a crush on him. Which is why they can never find out the two of you were dating. It’s been two years in your relationship and you were happiest you’ve ever been! Keeping it a secret was annoying, but Billy was the one who suggested it back in senior year. With your friends and his father, it was just best to keep it on the down low. 

You were zoning out completely now while Steve and Eddie continued on going back and forth about the meeting with Billy. Recently you’ve been feeling very overwhelmed. Work was getting to you and living with your mother as an adult isn’t the best thing right now. When you were younger you had a good relationship with your mom, but when 17 hit all of sudden you were her enemy. You got anxiety, depression, and even insomnia from it. And things at school were never too great, you dealt with your fair share of bullies. You thought once you graduated everything would stop, but boy were you wrong. You haven’t been sleeping or eating properly. Going to bed at 5:30 in the morning just to wake up at 7:00 wasn’t good and skipping breakfast wasn’t helpful either. You knew this, but with everything going on…you just didn’t care. Right now peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are your go to meal. “Sweetheart!” Eddie said, snapping you out of your trance “Hm? What?” You asked, looking at him. Eddie was kneeling on the floor in front of where you sat on the couch, “Steve asked if you were okay.” He said looking at you concerned. You blinked a few times and looked at him and then Steve “Yeah I’m fine. I’m sorry.” You said and then let out a small sigh. Eddie squinted his eyes examining you “Are you sleeping?” He asked, “Of course I am, Eds.” You lied “What about eating?” Steve asked you “Yes I’m eating.” You lied again. You didn’t want to lie to them, but you didn’t feel like getting lectured either. Steve and Eddie looked at each other, but decided to shrug it off “Well…are you going to stay for the movie?” Steve asked. You shrugged “I don’t know. I gotta clean up around the house before the mother gets home.” You said while standing up, “But we can have a movie night at my place Saturday.” You said with a small smile. “We’ll be there.” Eddie said, smiling wide and pulling you into a hug, “Go clean!” He said jokingly as you walked out his trailer. One good thing about the trailer park…you lived right next door. The only flaw…sneaking Billy inside.

~Saturday~

“Billy, they’re going to be here soon. Please just drop it.” You groaned. Billy did nothing but roll his eyes “No, Y/N.” He said, crossing his arms, “You’re lying to me.” He added. You looked at him confused “About what?” Now it was his turn to let out a groan “Don’t act clueless. You’re not sleeping or eating.” “I am! I told you I am. I’m perfectly fine.” You argued. Billy just nodded his head “Okay…then why do you bag under your eyes? They’re darker than before which means you’re not sleeping. You’re also a lot more shaky which means you’re not eating properly either.” Billy was a good observer, this was obvious. Years of living with Max he could tell when something was up. You thought you could hide it from him like you do with Steve and Eddie, but for some reason Billy could see right through you. 

Billy stepped forward and gently grabbed your arms, which got your attention and looked directly at him “Are you eating?” You nodded your head “What have you been eating?” He wasn’t mad. Just worried and he wasn’t being rude, but he was being stern. “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.” You mumbled. Billy then nodded, which was him giving you silent praise “And are you sleeping?” You looked at him and then down at your feet “Nu-uh. Look at me.” He said lifting your head up by your chin “I am…but I’m getting about an hour of sleep.” He sighed and leaned his forehead on yours “What have I told you when you start to feel like this?” He questioned you. You stayed silent. “Y/N.” He said in a quiet but stern voice “What did I tell you to do?” He tried again, “You told me to call you.” You said in a soft voice “And why didn’t you call me?” You sighed “I didn’t want to bother you.” You answered. Billy didn’t say anything, instead he just pulled you into a tight hug. His arm warped around your waist while his other hand on your head, “You’re never a bother. I want you to be okay.” He whispered. You closed your eyes and felt the tears swell up in your eyes “I’m sorry.” You said through a shaky voice. Billy shook his head and pulled away making you look at him again “You don’t have to say sorry. I just want you to tell me when you’re feeling this way. So I can help you. Be with you.” He explained while brushing some tears off your cheek with his thumb. 

“I don’t think he’s the asshole like we thought he was.” You heard a whisper, “Well to us he is.” You and Billy pulled apart and looked towards your bedroom door. Steve and Eddie were standing there with snacks, sodas, and movies. You nibbled on your bottom lip and sniffed while wiping your face, “How much did you hear…or see?” Billy asked them, “All of it.” Eddie answered with a smile. “How long have you two been seeing each other?” Steve asked looking at Billy and then you “Since senior year.” You said. The look on both their faces made you smile a little bit “You were dating this guy the whole time!?” Eddie said shocked “We thought you were just sharing some crazy fantasies!” Steve said right after. “Fantasies?” Billy said looking at you with a smirk, “I might have described our dates like they were daydreams.” You admitted shyly. 

After a long talk about the relationship you have with Billy and why you kept it a secret for so long, the three of them made up! You were happy to see your two best friends and your boyfriend to get along and finally become friends. What was even better was you watching them talk and get along…you didn’t even realize you were eating the snacks already. The boys didn’t point it out to you, they just let you continue snacking and watching them talk. Seeing you smile and finally eat multiple things was enough to make them happy. All that’s left is getting you to sleep…which shouldn’t be too hard since the three of them are staying the night to watch these movies with you.

[starkstruck27]

My next fill for @metalsandwichbingo !! This might be the first time I've ever done two withing 24 hours without having them pre-written. Also, as much as I love Steve and Billy, in this one, I went with the idea that when they met, instead of going 'I can fix him', I went with 'I can make him worse'. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys, and title comes from the song MUD by Dorothy. Title: You Ain't Living Life til You're Down in the Mud Square + Prompt: A2, On his knees, Mouth open Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4774 Words Major Tags: Chose Not to Use* Additional Tags: Crushes, Extremely Dubious Consent, Consensual non-consent, Bullying, Billy Hargrove being an asshole, Steve Harrington being an asshole, Face-fucking, Hair-pulling, Choking, Restraints, Marking, Eddie Munson has a piss kink, Wet & messy, Dacryphilia, Name-calling, Dirty talk, Humiliation Kink, Consensual but not Safe or Sane Summary: Eddie Munson is seriously fucked up. It's fitting that everyone calls him a freak. He doesn't exactly know why he has a crush on the two guys who have made his life a living hell for the past month, but here he is. As long as no one finds out about it, though, he should be fine. But one day, after Billy trips him in the hall, he loses his journal, the one where he writes down every disgusting, filthy thing he wishes they would do to him. And unfortunately, he can't find it anywhere. Also on: Ao3 *TW for this one, I didn't use any major tags because none of them really apply, but when I say things like "extremely dubious consent" and "consensual non-consent" I mean them. Consent is not explicitly given for most of the story, but it is there. If these or any other tags bother you, please don't read. Stay safe and sane out there, lovelies!!

It had only been a month since Billy Hargrove moved to Hawkins, a month since he met up with Steve Harrington and become his best friend, a month of nothing but torment and suffering for Eddie Munson. He didn’t know why, but Steve and Billy had decided to make him their own special project, picking on him relentlessly and making his life a living hell, as if it weren’t already bad enough being the super-senior who’s dad was in jail and who’s mom was dead, so he had to live with his uncle who was always working just so they could afford to live. Add on the claims that he worshiped the devil and the fact that he hung out with losers and freaks, and you’ve got the recipe for the easiest target in the history of American high school. 

And of course, it didn’t help that Eddie knew he had a fucked up life, so when he started to develop a sick form of attraction to the people who constantly bullied him, he almost didn’t question it. It still kinda freaked him out a little, but at this point, he’d just accepted it as another thing that was happening in his stupid, fucked little head. Besides, he knew there was absolutely no way anything would ever happen there, so he figured, if his brain was gonna make him think that was what he wanted, he would rather just enjoy it instead of working himself up about it.

So he did what any person would do when they had no one to talk to about this sort of stuff, he wrote it down. He kept a journal anyway, so why not put down his fantasies and when he could one day afford a therapist, scar them for life with it so they could figure out what exactly was wrong with him? He never wanted anyone else to find it though, so he always kept it on his person, and when he went home at night, put it in the very back of the drawer in his nightstand. If anyone else ever got ahold of it, he wouldn’t even be run out of town, they’d probably just kill him on the spot, and that was unideal to say the least, so it was safer just to keep it with him at all times. 

It was a relatively small journal, one that he could fit in his back pocket, and that’s just where it was that day when the bell finally rang and he was able to head to his last class of the day. So far he’d been able to avoid Steve and Billy enough that there were no major incidents, and he was so close to going a whole day without having to endure their shit, but just as that thought entered his head, he rounded the corner only to run smack into Billy. He then found himself face-planting into the linoleum, his stuff flying everywhere and everyone around them laughing. 

Eddie sighed as he picked himself up, less upset about being tripped than he was about having to gather up all his shit. He’d had all kinds of notes for his next campaign with the guys, and now they were all over the hallway, getting stepped on and ignored by his peers. Except for two nice girls, nobody helped him to get his stuff, and instead they went about their days as if nothing had happened. 

“Billy’s such a jerk,” the one girl said as she handed Eddie his notebook stuffed with papers. She was wearing a cheer outfit and had a nice smile. “He’s always making rude comments to us when we practice. I swear, one day, I’m gonna tell him off.”

“All five foot three of you?” The other girl asked, smirking at her before helping Eddie up. She had a flannel shirt on and glasses and her hair was a fiery red. “But seriously, she’s right. Don’t let him get you down.”

“I never do,” Eddie replied, dusting himself off and smiling, “Thanks for the help, ladies.”

The two girls walked off and Eddie let his smile fall. He’d really been hoping for just one day without anything happening, but that was out the window now. Still, there was only one class left in the day, so he just had to sit through that, and then he could go home.

It wasn’t until he got home that day that he realized his journal wasn’t in his pocket. A cold shock hit him square in the chest as he ran out to his van, praying that it had just fallen out onto the seat. He searched the entire car, but there was no trace of it, so he went back inside and tore the place apart trying to find it. He was close to crying as he realized it was nowhere to be found, and he had to splash cold water on his face to get himself to calm down enough to think rationally. He remembered being tripped earlier in the day and figured that must’ve been when he’d lost it, since that was the last time he remembered having it. And as he got in his van and sped back to the school, he prayed that it had just slid under some lockers and he could go and get it with little to no resistance.

When he got to the school, he ran through the halls until he got to the one where Billy had tripped him, and he got down on his hands and knees to check under each locker, but he came up with nothing. He felt like the world was closing in around him, and he started to cry as he sank down and curled into a ball against the lockers. He sat there for a while, but finally he realized there was nothing he could do about it, so he made a plan to check the office tomorrow and see if anyone turned it in, and if not, he’d figure out his next steps later.

Meanwhile, across town, Steve and Billy were hanging out at his house, enjoying his heated pool and more than a few beers. They were fucking around and shootin’ the shit when eventually, they started talking about Eddie.

“He’s getting pretty good at avoiding us,” Steve said, “I didn’t even see him hardly at all today, and when I did, he was too far away to do anything.”

“Yeah, he’s a slippery little fucker,” Billy agreed, shaking water from his hair, “But I managed to trip him earlier today, so not all hope is lost. Oh! And I almost forgot,” Billy hoisted himself out of the pool and went over to his bag, drying his hands quickly before rooting around and pulling out a small green notebook. “This fell out of his pocket earlier today. Whattaya say? Wanna read the freak’s diary? I took a quick peek earlier and there is some fucked up shit in there.”

“Like what?” Steve asked, sitting up on the edge of the pool as Billy tossed the notebook to him. He caught it and waited for Billy to come sit next to him, and then the two of them started to read. It started out tame enough, mostly just a lot of questioning as to why his life was so messed up, and a lot of insecure thoughts. But just when they were getting bored and were about to stop reading, it got interesting. 

They read all about how Eddie was somehow fixated on them, how he had wet dreams sometimes about the two of them and how he hated that, but as they kept reading, how he finally just accepted it. He detailed everything he ever thought about them doing to him, from choking him and making him cry to forcing him and marking him like a dog. It was a treasure trove of everything he’d ever fantasized about, and it was all pure gold. There were so many new possibilities, now. Blackmail, humiliation, exposure, and the list just went on from there. By the time they finished reading, though, they’d come up with something far more rewarding than anything else, and they couldn’t wait to put their plan into action.

The next day was bright and sunny, although still a little chilly for the beginning of November. The weather was the last thing on Eddie’s mind though as he got to school, heading straight to the principal’s office before going to homeroom. He talked to the front desk lady and asked if he could look through the lost and found, but after ten minutes of going through every item in there, he had nothing. The pit in his stomach sank down deeper, but he thanked the receptionist and trudged off to class, shoving his palms in his eyes to try and keep from crying again.

The day went surprisingly well after that, all things considered. He got a math test back that he didn’t fail, and Billy and Steve seemed too concerned with the big basketball game tomorrow to be bothered with him, so as long as he kept to himself, Eddie managed to get through the day fairly easily. He still felt anxious, though, and every time he saw Cheer girl or Flannel girl in the hall, he hoped they’d come up and say they got his notebook by mistake and give it back to him, but no such luck. There were no whispers in the halls or anybody coming up to humiliate him with it either, though, so he had hope that maybe nobody had found it yet and he still had time to get it before anyone did.

That was still the only thing on his mind at the end of the day when he went back to his locker to get his stuff, and it only went away when he saw a post-it note sitting on top of his jacket. He picked it up and read the message, and sighed as he crumpled it up and stuck it in his pocket. It only had one word on it, ‘picnic’, and anybody who was in the know at Hawkins high could tell you what that meant. As much as Eddie just wanted to go home and relax for the night, he also needed the money, so he grabbed his lunch box and started making his way to the table just beyond the treeline where he always went to sell. 

When he got there, though, there was no one else in sight. He couldn’t hear leaves or sticks crunching, so he figured maybe in the time that they’d left the note and now, whoever wanted to buy from him had chickened out. He decided to wait for a few minutes just in case, but when nobody came after five, he cut his losses and started making his way back to the parking lot. 

He only got halfway there when someone grabbed him by the jacket sleeve and yanked him backwards, using one hand to hold onto him and the other to cover his mouth. He tried to struggle, but it was no use, whoever this was was a hell of a lot stronger than he was, and they were holding him at just the right angle to keep him from getting a solid footing. He had a pretty good idea of who was behind this, and a sense of dread crept up his spine and into his throat as he stopped struggling and tried to think of an escape plan.

“Here?” He heard Billy say, and tears sprang to his eyes.

“No, I heard the track team is running this trail today, one of them could see us. I know another place, c’mon,” Steve answered him, and Eddie could feel him talking from where he held him against his chest. At that point, any sense of wanting to escape had left him, and was replaced with a sense of panic so strong, he couldn’t think straight. He wasn’t even in control of himself, really, and when Steve started dragging him back to the parking lot with Billy in tow, Eddie didn’t even put up a fight. He didn’t like this, he wanted to run away, but his mind was so frantic it couldn’t send the signal down to his legs, and so he just let Steve manhandle him, all the way into the back of Billy’s car.

“Wh-what are you doing?” He finally got the nerve to ask as Steve climbed in the back with him and Billy started to drive. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere nobody will find us,” Steve said, a wicked grin on his face.

“What are you gonna d-do to me?” Eddie asked, hardly noticing that Steve was taking his jacket off of him as he heard Billy laugh in the front seat. He held up Eddie’s missing notebook and his eyes went wide as he tried to lunge for it. He didn’t even get halfway there before Steve grabbed his arms and wrestled them behind his back, tying them together a little too tightly with an old shoelace.

“Give that back!” He tried, but it only made the other two laugh.

“Listen, Freak, it doesn’t matter anyway, we already read it,” Steve said, “So if you want us to keep this between us and not plaster the pages all over the school, I suggest you shut up and do what we say, capisce? Now drink this.”

Eddie was too stunned to do anything but comply. He opened his mouth as Steve held a water bottle for him, and he made him drink the whole thing plus a second one while he gave Billy directions. By the time he was halfway through the third bottle, the car finally stopped, and Steve let him stop drinking so they could get out of the car. They were at the top of the cliffs surrounding the quarry, one of the most secluded places in all of Hawkins, nobody would think to look for any of them up here. That was all Eddie could think about as he was helped out of the car, and it did nothing to help his nerves, or his bladder. He felt like he was about to burst, he’d already kinda had to pee before any of this started, but now with two and a half bottles of water in him, he was desperate. Still, his hands were tied. Literally. 

“Get on your knees, Freak,” Steve spat, pushing Eddie down on the rocky ground and smiling as he winced.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He asked, his heart racing and his body starting to feel restless. It kinda felt good, now that he’d gotten used to it, but he had no idea what was gonna happen, and that was the only thing that made him nervous.

“We read your little diary,” Billy said, “And we thought, we could do a lot of fun things with this, but we decided this was the best idea we had. So here’s the deal, you do what we tell you and keep your mouth shut, and we give you exactly what you want.”

“And,” Steve chimed in, “If you behave and act like a good little slut, we won’t accidentally leave this open in the library for someone else to find. Sound fair?”

Eddie wasn’t sure how to respond for a minute, he still had no idea what Billy meant when he said they’d give him ‘exactly what he wanted’, but if he were being honest, he’d rather do what they said and maybe get his journal back rather than refusing and it getting out to everyone. Besides, the morbidly curious part of his brain wanted to go through with it, so finally he nodded.

“Wh-whatever you say,” he said, and Billy and Steve both smiled.

“Good choice,” Steve said, then walked over and grabbed Eddie by the hair, making his mouth fly open from the painful grip and making the pressure in his groin build. “That’s a good slut, you like it when I pull your hair? I bet you like it whenever I do anything to you, huh? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me lately? Afraid you’re gonna pop a boner if I hit you hard enough?”

Eddie couldn’t deny that this was starting to feel better than it should have. The names, the insults, the pain, the desperation, it was all strangely provocative, and his head was starting to get a little foggy as Billy came over to add fuel to the fire.

“That must’ve been why you scurried away so fast last week when I pinned you to the lockers,” he said, wrapping a hand around Eddie’s throat, but only adding enough pressure to make sure Eddie could feel it. “You’re such a dirty little freak, getting off on fucked up shit like this. Did you touch yourself after last week? Did you jerk off or shove a couple fingers up your ass, or maybe both? I bet it was both, and I bet you wished it was one of us that was fucking you instead of just your hand, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes,” Eddie mumbled, but it mustn’t have been good enough, because next thing he knew Billy was digging the toe of his boot into his stomach, right where his bladder would be. Eddie started to breathe heavier, his eyes starting to feel wet again as he did everything he could to keep his composure. He had to go so bad, and the other two just laughed as he started to whine like a toddler. “Yes, okay?! You’re right! I was horny and I fucked myself in the school bathroom and I wished it was you, okay?!”

“Good job, slut,” Billy smiled, finally letting up and taking a step back. Steve followed and stood next to him, and the two seemed to tower over him as they stared him down.

“Piss yourself,” Steve said, and Eddie almost cried.

“What?” He asked, his voice small and pathetic.

“You heard me, now do it. Piss yourself,” he repeated.

“You can’t be serious,” Eddie whined, a couple of tears escaping. This was so humiliating.

“I’m dead serious, now fucking do it,” Steve demanded, getting in Eddie’s face and grabbing his hair again, pulling hard. Eddie let out a cry of pain and Steve let up, stepping back again and watching as Eddie cried.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. It felt so good to be used like this, but it was also the most mortifying ordeal he’d ever been through in his life. He couldn’t believe they wanted him to do this, but finally, he just couldn’t hold it anymore. He started crying harder as he started to go, sobbing a bit as he soaked his jeans. He suddenly regretted wearing the blue ones today, since the black ones would’ve made it harder to see, but with the blue, it was easy to tell what he was doing. He knew the other two could tell, he could hear them laughing and mocking him, and as much as it hurt, it also heightened the thrill a little bit. And when he finally finished, his jeans soaked through and his face red from crying, they made their way back over, grinning widely.

“Can’t believe you actually did it,” Billy said, licking his lips. “Now, sit up and open your mouth.”

Eddie nodded and sniffed a little, leaning his head to the side to try and wipe his face on his shoulder, but then he did as he was told. He sat up and opened his mouth, and then he waited, watching as the two of them unzipped their jeans and got their own dicks out. Then, without any more warning, Billy grabbed him by his hair, shoving his dick into Eddie’s mouth, and holding his head down until he started to choke.

“Does that feel good, slut?” He asked as he let him up, barely giving him enough time to take a breath, much less answer, before pushing him back down. He fucked his throat hard, already reducing him to tears again and barely giving him any breaks except to breathe. Steve egged him on, encouraging his buddy to hold him down longer, to really give it to him, and if Eddie whimpered or made a noise, he’d mock him, making him feel even more ashamed and making him enjoy it more and more with each insult hurled his way.

Eddie was crying harder as Billy kept it up, until finally, he stopped. He pulled out of his mouth before finishing, and as Eddie coughed and finally managed to catch his breath, he just stood there, watching and laughing. It sent a wave of embarrassed excitement shoot through Eddie, and if he hadn’t been hard before, he certainly was now. He could feel the ache against his wet jeans, which were cooling rapidly and making him shiver, which didn’t help his desperation to come right then and there. But before he could get himself composed enough to do it, Steve noticed, and he grabbed Eddie by the face this time as he spoke to him.

“You better not even think about coming until I say you can. Otherwise I’ll leave you here tied up and by the time you find a way to get back home, the entire town will have read your little diary, understand me?” He asked, and as much as it pained him, Eddie nodded. “Good. Now open your fucking mouth again.”

Eddie once again did as he was told, and Steve wasted no time in giving him the same treatment that Billy had. He fucked his throat mercilessly and Eddie just took it. It wasn’t as hard this time, he’d gotten kinda used to it, and even though it was still rough, he was starting to like it that way. This was what he’d been fantasizing about for over a month now, anyway, and it was being presented to him on a silver platter. He might as well enjoy it, right?

Once he’d gotten used to the intrusion in his throat, it didn’t seem to take quite as long, and before he knew it, Steve was pulling out of his mouth, too, he and Billy standing over him and stroking their cocks, and finally, coming all over him. He let them take their time, his clothes were already ruined and his face was a mess, so they couldn’t do much more damage now than they already had. When they were done, he waited patiently for their next orders, a twinge of fear still twisting in his gut as Steve smirked at him. He didn’t do anything, though, just traced his fingers over his ruined shirt and then lifted his hand, shoving his fingers into Eddie’s mouth, covered in come. 

“Swallow it,” he commanded, and Eddie did, his throat burning a bit from being used so harshly.

“Good slut,” Billy said, grinning widely. “Now, that little book of yours said that if you were ever in a situation like this with the two of us, you’d want us to mark you like a dog, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yeah,” Eddie swallowed, his voice thick. “P-please.”

“Aww, look at that, the bitch is begging,” Steve laughed meanly, then looked at Billy, “What do you think, Bill? Is the little freak worth claiming as ours?”

“Fuck yeah, why not? Not like he can do much about it, and I like the idea of being able to fuck him up like this any time I want, don’t you?” Billy replied, grabbing his now limp dick and winking at his friend as he started to piss all over Eddie. Steve nodded and did the same, the two of them covering him from head to toe. Eddie couldn’t help but make a noise of pleasure as they did, the warmth of their piss almost a comfort in the chilly November evening. Not only that, but it was unbelievably erotic to be claimed by someone like this, animalistic instincts taking over and making them act so filthily, and Eddie couldn’t get enough of it. He was so close, and this just added another layer of desperation that he liked, but he was so ready to toss that feeling aside and let himself blow.

When they were finally done, Steve and Billy tucked themselves away and straightened themselves out, making sure they looked normal, and completely ignoring Eddie for a minute until they were satisfied with themselves. Then they turned their attention back to a squirming, whining Eddie, ready to leave him with one last indignity.

“You wanna come now, bitch?” Billy asked, licking his lips again as Eddie nodded vigorously. “Then you’re gonna have to work for it like the fucking dog you are, come here.”

Eddie listened easily and shuffled forward on his knees until he was at Billy’s feet, and once he was, he looked up for further directions. Billy didn’t give any, instead he just stuck his leg out, and Eddie got the hint right away.

“You s-sure?” He asked, still a little nervous to make a wrong move. 

“Yeah, go on. Be a good fucking dog and get yourself off,” Billy said, and Steve nodded along, clearly holding back a laugh. Eddie didn’t care if they laughed anymore though, he was too wound up to give a shit, so he didn’t let himself even think about it as he settled Billy’s leg between both of his and started to hump it like a dog. It felt so damn good, the humiliation mixed with the actual physical sensations feeling like the most perfect blend in the universe. He knew it had been less than a minute before he finally came with a moan, even thirty seconds was being generous, but it was the best orgasm he’d ever had, and as concerning that probably should’ve been to him, he just didn’t care right then. 

Once he’d ridden out his orgasm as long as he could, Eddie fell over on his side. His knees were throbbing from him kneeling on the gravel for so long, and his arms and hands were tired from being in the same position for so long. His throat felt like it was on fire, and his eyes were burning, too, from crying so much. He was tired and dirty and getting cold, and he could hear the other two laughing at him, but he was too blissed out to care about any of it. 

After a minute or so, Steve came up behind him again and untied the shoelace from his wrists. He must’ve gone back to the car at some point as Eddie had laid there, because he tossed his jacket and the unfinished water bottle from earlier down next to him. Eddie finally found the strength to sit up and was about to thank him, but before he could, Steve spoke first. 

“Remember our deal, Freak. This stays between us, or we show that book to everyone, understand?” He asked, and Eddie nodded.

“Yeah, I hear ya,” he rasped, a goofy smile on his face. These two really weren’t so scary, now that he thought about it.

“Good. And maybe if you keep yourself in line like a good little bitch, we can really ruin you, just like you want,” Billy added, grabbing Eddie by the hair one last time and staring him down. “Remember, you’re ours now. We own you.”

Eddie felt a strange tingle in his stomach when he heard that, and he looked back and forth between the other two for a moment before nodding. They nodded back and then let him go, the both of them going back to the car and climbing in, leaving Eddie there without even a glance back in his direction. 

Eddie sighed as he watched them drive off. He should’ve known that they weren’t going to start being nice to him, even after all this, so it shouldn’t have surprised him when they left him to find his own way home. He drank the rest of the water they’d left him with and tossed the bottle off the cliff, then braced himself to stand up. He cringed in pain as his knees straightened out after so long, and his feet were still kinda numb, but he’d have to walk it out eventually, so he might as well get a move on before it got really dark. He could worry about picking his van up tomorrow. At least Forest Hills wasn’t too far from here.

[rainbow-nerdss]

18 😊

Thank you! I had a lot of fun writing this, actually 😁

Send me an ask with a number 1-100 and I'll (maybe) write a short fic or drabble based on the corresponding song in my wrapped playlist

Song 18 on my wrapped playlist:

And So it Goes-Billy Joel

But if my silence made you leave Then that would be my worst mistake So I will share this room with you And you can have this heart to break

It had been weeks of it—this horrible, strangled, something between the two of them. Since Buck met Natalia, Eddie's been feeling it, a sense that this was it. He didn't want to do it. He's been pushing it down for so long, he's not even sure he can. Those words, though. They echo in Eddie's mind. She sees me. Those words… Eddie knew what they meant. He knew, because he knew Buck. Down to his bones, he knew him. And that's what made those words pierce so deeply. They meant this was his last chance.

They meant he had to do something, say the thing he'd been holding inside for three years now. Before it was too late. Before Buck chose her, and everything changed. Because if Buck chose her, then Eddie didn't know if he could stand by, watching Buck happy with someone else. Not with the question which would always linger. Not with the what if. If he knew, if he laid it all out, and Buck chose her anyway… Eddie would be able to live with that. A clean heartbreak, rather than the slow pull. Rip the band aid off. “Hey, Buck. Can we… talk, after work maybe?” He chose a neutral location, somewhere he could avoid afterwards if it all went wrong. A café, where their cups sat steaming between them. He thought about giving a speech, declaring all the ways, all the myriad of ways in which he loved Evan Buckley. But in the end, the words wouldn't come. “Buck, I… I just want to say this, so it's… so you know. And then you can… I don't want to say you have to choose, but you'll have all the information, if you… if you wanted to choose.” He felt inexplicably like he was handing Buck his still-beating heart, asking whether he wanted to break it. It was too much, he'd said too much. “Choose what? Eddie, are you okay? Is this about Chris?" Buck frowned at him, clear and open worry on his face. “No it's… it's you. It's me. Buck, I'm in love with you.” Silence. Even the sound of their fellow cafe patrons dimmed to nothing in Eddie's ears as he waited for Buck to answer. To react. To do anything. “Eddie, you… wait, what do you mean choose?” Eddie shook his head at Buck's expression, shock mingled with sadness. “I'm not saying it's got to be me or her. I don't want this to be an ultimatum, but you deserved to know. If you choose to be with her, I'll… I'll need some time, and you deserve to know why I'm gone.” “You love me.” “I do.” “And you're… it sounds like you're bracing for me to break your heart.” “I guess I am, yeah. If I could… If I could just decide what happened in the future, I'd want to spend the rest of my life with you. Sickness and health and all the other clichés. But it's not my choice, is it? And if you never knew, it could never…” “Eds.” Eddie released a shuddering breath. “Buck.” Buck reached across the table right as Eddie began to pull away, and wrapped a hand around Eddie's. “Eds, this is… I wish you'd told me this before. Months ago, years ago, even” “I left it too late. I get it.” Eddie felt the cracks form in the depths of his heart. This was worse, so much worse than a clear rejection. “Eddie, no. It's… I wish you'd told me sooner, because then I could've done this sooner.” And Buck practically dove across the table, pulling Eddie in at the same time, and kissed him. “Of course it's you, Eddie. Of course it is.”

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

— all my writing for the stranger things characters. if you have a request, please look to the guidelines here

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

𝐤𝐞𝐲: ☾ = suggestive | ❤︎ = fluff | ☁️ = angst | completed = ✔︎ | ongoing (series) = ↺ | requested = ☎️

✿ unless stated otherwise, all of my fics are written with a fem!reader in mind and are poc!friendly

✿ fics ordered oldest to newest

✿ feedback is golden! please let me know what you think!

𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐢. daughter of a cop - ❤︎ ↺ || fem hopper!reader

pt. 1 - eddie has never put much thought into who your dad is and why he’s never met him until one evening when he wishes he never knew || inspired by daughter of a cop - tv girl

pt. 2 - after the first accidental and absolutely horrid incident with your dad, eddie isn’t all too keen on the idea of meeting him officially. spoiler alert: he has every reason to be worried

𝐢𝐢. jealousy, jealousy - ☁️ ❤︎ ↺ || fem!reader + steddie

it’s one thing not having the person you want most by your side. but it’s even worse when you have to watch them move on with someone else, who is way too nice || inspired by jealousy, jealousy - olivia rodrigo

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 15 dozen roses - ☁️ ❤︎ || fem!reader || previous billy hargrove x reader

losing one person you loved was more than enough pain for a lifetime but losing another? you hoped it would never come to it. then again, the universe has a vendetta against you || inspired by yours - conan gray

𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

𝐢. i spy with my little eye… - ❤︎ || fem!reader

you think your “tiny” crush on one d&d-playing, ring-wearing, poodle-rivaling brunet goes unnoticed until you’re confronted in a pizzeria of all places

𝐢𝐢. fights and... frolicking? - ☎️ ❤︎ ☁️ || fem henderson!reader

dustin’s been worried about his older sister because he hasn’t heard from her since she and their mom got into a fight. worried, he turns to his friend and is met with a surprising sight

𝐢𝐢𝐢. everyone adores you (at least i do) - ❤︎ || fem quiet!reader

eddie was an unapologetic loudmouth and maybe a bit of a freak. so it was a surprise to him and everyone else that a girl of very few words had rendered him speechless || inspired by everyone adores you (at least i do) - matt maltese

only want ya cause i can’t have ya - ☁️ || fem!reader

eddie is a sucker in every sense of the word. how stupid could he be to want someone he could never have? someone who was so much better off without him in their life? || inspired by johanna - suki waterhouse

unrequited love (& other clichés) - ☁️ ❤︎ || fem!reader

if he was truthful, eddie didn’t want to be friends with you. he wanted to be more, mean more to you. but that was just wishful thinking, right? || inspired by unrequited love (& other clichés) - breakup shoes

what was once - ☁️ ❤︎

eddie always thought this might happen but he pushed his doubts aside. now, they’re staring him right in the face, and he’s scared that he might lose you || inspired by what once was - her’s

you’re a rockstar, babe - ☾ || fem!reader

you’re a journalist, and your upcoming piece is about the battle of the bands. when a contestant with hair better than yours offers to show you an “amazing fucking time”, what do you say? you say yes, of course.

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐢. jealousy, jealousy - ☁️ || fem!reader & steddie

it’s one thing not having the person you want most by your side. but it’s even worse when you have to watch them move on with someone else, who is way too nice || inspired by jealousy, jealousy - olivia rodrigo

𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

𝐢. dancing’s not a crime - ☎️ ❤︎ || fem!reader

you can’t remember the last time you attended a school dance, and you get a little reminiscent when see the Snow Ball. but who’s to say you’re too old to have a dance?

𝐢𝐢. dear (not so) secret diary… - ☎️ ☁️ || fem wheeler!reader

you have a secret. that secret has been shared with only two people - your diary and your best friend, just not the one it’s about. but what happens when your secret isn’t so secret anymore?

𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐢. 15 dozen roses - ☁️ ❤︎ || fem!reader || previous billy hargrove x reader

losing one person you loved was more than enough pain for a lifetime but losing another? you hoped it would never come to it. then again, the universe has a vendetta against you || inspired by yours - conan gray

[jo-harrington]

As Above, So Below - Chapter 5: Via Domus

Previous Chapter: Chapter 4 - Malum Malus

Summary: You wake to find yourself in the Upside Down and discover a world-altering revelation.

Word Count: 13.8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Original Character (Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)

Warnings/Themes: Van Helsing Inspired, Kas!Eddie, Religious Themes, Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Fate vs. Free Will, Death and Injury, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mentions of Major Character Deaths, Grief, Mourning, Yearning, Discussion of the Upside Down, Supernatural Encounters, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Unprotected PinV Sex (he's undead it doesn't matter), Oral Sex (F Receiving), Bloodletting, Biblical and Other Literary/Media References

Note: Sorry this is a little late but this snow storm had my internet down right as I went to post. There isn't much to say but...this moment has been one 10 months in the making and I might not have edited it...but I don't care, I'm literally the proudest I can be. I'm sure there's people to tag and thank for their support. I'm so ready to sit back and reread this. I didn't write it; it just came through me like a prophecy. And that isn't condescending, it's the truth.

This series will not be for the faint of heart, nor is it something that was written with a general audience in mind. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

“The devil doesn't come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns. He comes as everything you've ever wished for.” - Tucker Max, Assholes Finish First

November 6, 1983 October 15, 1987

Everything was wrong.

From a dreamless sleep, consciousness hit you like a freight train and drug you to the land of the living under its wheels, one painful mile at a time.

You were aware of every nerve, every bump and bruise, every cut.

Every bite.

Because surely there were more than just the ones on your throat now.

And when you finally opened your eyes, you burned.

Not just your body; the very essence of you sizzled and popped like hot oil in a pan.

It was overwhelming, overstimulating.

There was both an absence of feeling--of being--and an abundance of it.

Images flashed through your mind. Memories. And not just yours.

Leaving Hawkins the first time.

Kas, the brides, and their seduction and subsequent attack of you.

Billy--a different one than the one you knew now--screaming and clawing his way up a rickety wooden staircase while a creature lurked just out of sight below.

A man in tattered and bloodied white clothes, his skin burned and mottled. Blind in one eye. And a creature that met him and allowed him to--

The smell was next as you finally remembered to breathe. You swallowed great gulps of air then choked as they burned your lungs and tasted like a mix of wet, cloying mold and dry, putrid battery acid.

Finally, a high pitched ringing as your spirit finally settled back into yourself. You clenched and unclenched your hands--stretched your fingers and toes--to regain some kind of recognizable feeling back into them.

As you tried to recognize who you were now, in this body.

In this world.

Everything was wrong.

No...when you woke up, everything was different.

The first coherent thought through your head was that you were dead and this was surely hell. Proven not only by the pain and the affliction of your body and mind, but because the skies overhead flashed and burned bright red with infernal lightning.

The brides had drained you dry and this was your eternal punishment. It was the only explanation.

If you steeled yourself and turned your head, would you see your father's face--frozen in an eternal scream--staring at you?

You wrenched your eyes closed for a moment, steeled yourself to test the theory, and you winced as the bites on your neck pulled and stretched.

When you opened them again, you screamed. It was a weak, strangled sound, and echoed as you shuffled away as much as your sore body would allow.

It was not your father's face that you found beside you, but it was a face nonetheless.

Petrified.

Screaming.

Flesh half-rotting off a skull, petrified golden hair layered with soot and muck. There was a neck and torso too--arms--and the further you dragged your eyes down the body, the more decayed and damaged the bones became. The skin and flesh sloughed off.

Until they all tapered off--melted off--into bone, then into nothingness, where the ribs ended abruptly in a half-jagged, half-charred state.

It was where the ground ended too, the body teetering on the precipice.

"Mother...fuck..." you hissed and swallowed thickly.

You weakly melted into the ground again; your eyes slid shut so you could take stock of yourself once more.

Sluggishly, you returned to your senses. Head, torso, limbs all accounted for, even if they were a little worse for wear. You'd survive. You'd heal eventually...hopefully.

Before long, your abilities jumpstarted from cold at the proximity of a dead body. Great. Though you supposed you'd almost considered yourself grateful that they were returning, if not for the phantom fingers that scratched at the back of your mind; the lingering spirit that belonged to this body wanted to communicate but didn't quite know how.

You didn't have the patience to ferry the remnant of someone's soul closer towards consciousness right now.

But it was a reminder.

There were no bodies in Hell. No death in Hell.

For all intents and purposes, the damned would be considered alive.

So no, this wasn't Hell.

This was--

You forced your eyes back open and stared at the gaping, mangled maw of jagged walls that stretched and reached into the roiling, starless sky.

--an attic.

There were visible slats and support beams, boxes and furniture covered in sheets, and burnt, decayed vines clinging to the walls and along the floor. Most notable was the fact that the structure--this house--was simply broken. Shattered. Not only was the roof broken, as though a giant had torn into it--peeled the slats and shingles open and left them rent and tattered beneath their hands--to curiously peer inside, but the whole structure was as well.

The side of the floor you and the body were on tilted at an awkward angle; not unnavigable but still odd as you found the strength to hoist yourself to your feet and stumbled at the unevenness. Once you were upright, you could see the other side; across a strange valley that revealed broken beams and wide structural mouths that promised rooms below, there was a set of stairs that led downwards.

Uneasy with the minimal strength you currently possessed, you used your power to send some sort of signal down through the jagged, rotten foundation to ask the earth for help. And not just help, you asked for a sign of where you were and what happened to you. However, you were immediately turned away. A hiss at the back of your mind, that settled adjacent to that incessant scratching, warning you from trying again.

This earth was not like the earth you connected with regularly. It was incompatible with you, but only just so.

There was a blink of a thought in your head that you could make it bend to your will if you really wanted. If you were tempted enough.

But temptation was what got you here, wasn't it? Your jeans were still unbuttoned and you felt some kind of internal, medieval shame as you fixed them and fastened them back up. Shame, not only because the brides had fucked you if you could call it that, but because they'd gotten the better of you. They'd used your weaknesses against you--used Eddie against you--and now they'd stolen you away to the Upside Down.

That's what this place was right?

And it wasn't a stretch to guess the why's here either.

Kas had used them to bring you here so he could finally be rid of you.

Well, you weren't going to sit here and wait for your death like a lamb to the slaughter. If Kas wanted to kill you, you were gonna put up a fight.

The fires of wrath were stoked inside you and you let them restore your strength and fuel your journey onwards. You readied yourself to make the jump across the broken floor.

Suddenly, the scratching at the back of your mind got horribly loud. A voice, a young man's voice, strained and croaked inside of you.

"Help me. God, please help me."

The broken remnants of the being you'd woken beside finally found its voice.

You scowled as resentment decided to mingle with your wrath.

"No one's going to help you," you grunted and shuffled your foot into the side of its rib cage. You kicked the body into the gulch below and as you took your leap, you delighted in the sounds of the bones shattering as it impacted the ground below. "God is dead."

The descent was precarious.

Despite the strength you had gathered, your body ached and your movements were clumsy. It was like you left a part of yourself behind and struggled to continue without it. Additionally, as you progressed along the path, you found that the house itself was broken in ways that defied logic.

Hallways switched back upon themselves or dropped down into a deep burning abyss, floors tilted upwards and then stopped abruptly, doors opened to brick walls, and then, your favorite, a ticking grandfather clock seemingly floated in the air on its own.

Did physics exist in the Upside Down? Gravity? Or was it like Superman, where differences developed without the interference of a certain color sun?

Eventually you made it to what you believed to be the ground floor, and although there was a looming sense of dread that only got worse the further along you walked, your footsteps felt sure and stable. It felt better, safer.

There was a crack in one of the walls you passed where you spotted the shadow of tree limbs, and just up ahead you could see the sky over a half-demolished wall.

Once you rounded this corner and that to reach your supposed freedom, you found yourself faced with what could only be described as an altar. Some site of a wicked ceremony. The walls of the house split open and revealed the expansive red and grey waste of the outdoors, but instead of finding dead grass and trees like you thought, there were structures made of stone and vines and twisted tentacles, just like you remembered from the tunnels.

Towers.

Stalagmites.

Pillars.

Something rustled behind you and you turned on your heel to find the source of the noise, only to find the dank hall you'd just exited empty. It rustled behind you again and you spun back to face the pillars, but you were still alone.

You were being taunted now, teased. Surely that was it, wasn't it? This was a game; you survived the pitfalls and traps of this nightmarish house and now the hunt was truly on?

"I know you like to play with your food motherfucker," you hissed aloud. "Let's play."

You progressed confidently, unwilling to let yourself falter as the ground underfoot transitioned from wooden floorboards to decorative checker tile to uneven earth and the air became heavy with ominous anticipation.

Despite that, you took a moment to inspect the pillars as you passed them, only to be met with an even stranger sight.

Chrissy. Fred. Patrick.

They were eerily still, petrified even; faces serene, as though they were sleeping. The pillars seemed to encapsulate them; a wing melted into the stone here, claws elongated into branches there.

There were four pillars...but three Brides.

You vaguely recalled a flash of Max's memories, of her running through a red landscape almost exactly like this; you took the chance and reached out to touch the empty pillar, only for your suspicions to be confirmed. It was meant for her. The pillars were the final resting places for all four of the victim's of Vecna's curse.

A place for their bodies to be displayed like trophies, signifying his triumph.

It was a sickening thought, but brought about further revelation that this place didn't belong to Kas, but the Lich himself.

The Creel House.

"I was right," you huffed a small laugh of victory. Your hunt for Kas had led here; if only fate hadn't tempted you off the path to the cemetery, you would have been that much closer to defeating Kas now.

Fresh off a small win and with your body primed for psychometry, you moved and touched each pillar curiously. You witnessed each Bride's transition from the husk of a body to the monstrous beings they were now. They hadn't meant to be the puppets of an atrocious master when they were resurrected; it had all been done in an act of defiance. Their forms had been carefully crafted by his clawed hands, and life breathed back into them by a hopeful heart.

That heart was broken here too; those same clawed hands were formed on the very floor behind you...

"No," you tried to shake the thought off you. You didn't want that; didn't need that. Didn't need to empathize with Kas...right?

Still...the intrusion continued.

You wanted to connect to this earth didn't you? So you must gain all manner of information, whether you want it or not.

More images flashed against your will; you didn't need to touch the silt and soil beneath your feet for it to reach out and touch you. The blood that soaked this ground leeched up from the depths to provide you hair-raising clarity of the brutality committed a mere few feet from where you stood. No care had been taken when a body on the brink of death was implanted with bones and teeth and claws. You watched the flashes in unblinking horror until screams suddenly echoed in your ears, terrible and ear-splitting; you were witnessing a transformation--a metamorphosis--from something to nothing then back to something again.

"No!" you shouted and your voice echoed, into the eerie night. Wings flapped and a creature roared in the distance. The images fled along with them, and you heaved several labored breaths as you settled back into yourself.

There was a rustle behind you again, and you froze; you were so lost by the intrusion of the birth of a monster in your mind that you didn't notice said monster approach you.

This was it.

You'd faced monsters before, countless times. Of course, you'd always been armed with weapons, your powers. Now you'd been stripped bare; the brides had rid you of your weapons, and this dastardly dimension had denied you access to many of your abilities as you recovered from your weakened state.

Unless they were useful to the Upside Down itself, so it seemed.

Still, your eyes honed in on a glint of silver beside you. Brilliant amongst the squalor of the Upside Down and folded neatly in Chrissy's claws that rested across her chest:

Your crucifix.

Your hand shot towards the cross of its own volition, but as your fingers caressed the carved hyacinths, you suddenly doubted yourself.

Was Chrissy's grasp on it truly that strong or was it just a trick of the mind? If you couldn't even resist her and Patrick...how could you possibly fight Kas?

Except, you'd already fought Kas hadn't you? Already got the one-up on him. That's why he'd relied on so many cheap shots to get to you. You would make it through this, with your teeth gnashing, your bare hands, and your raw faith. Or you would die trying.

"Lord, I am not worthy to receive you," you whispered as you pried the relic out of the harpy's hands. "But only say the word and my soul shall be healed."

Footsteps slunk closer to you, audibly clearer now, and you readied yourself, focused on all the holy light within the sludge of your corruptible human body. When they finally stopped just inches behind you, you could feel cold breath cascade over you, and you knew it was time.

You pivoted on your heel, sneakers crunching the ground beneath them into dust, and you raised your hand to brandish your cross at your assailant. His hand clashed against its other side and stopped it dead between both of your faces; your eyes went wide as he gripped it tight and it burst into flames in front of your eyes.

You wrenched your hand away and backed into Chrissy's body as Kas let out a mighty, wretched wail.

You were so singularly focused--horrified--as you watched the symbol of your family's legacy burn and melt in his hands, so expectant of his form being consumed by holy flames as he crumpled and bent at the waist and screamed in agony, that you didn't really look at him until it was too late.

The fire extinguished suddenly and Kas flung the remnants of your crucifix to the side, and as he stood, you could feel all the blood rush to your head. There was a buzzing in your ears and you swore the dark circles that crowded your vision were only to spare you from the sight.

Whatever vision you had in your head of Kas was gone...and in its place was suddenly something both old and new at the same time.

There was a smirk carved into his face, so smug and triumphant, and made only more pronounced by the deep scars that went from the corners of his mouth and back along his jaw towards his ears. Still, his enticing lips twitched, failing to bely a smile. His deep eyes were locked with yours, abyss-like, but warm and welcoming in this otherwise unforgiving world as he stared at you with a fondness that you couldn't fathom.

He was tall--taller than you remembered--and even taller still as your legs failed you and you collapsed to your knees before him; he took two rapid steps forward, hands stretched out as though he would try to catch you before you hit the ground. All you could focus on were the sharpened, blood-stained points of his fingers though, and when you flinched as they got too close for comfort, he stopped in his tracks.

Your breathing got heavy and your shoulders and chest heaved the longer you witnessed him. Because it truly was the witnessing of something beautiful and terrible, wasn't it? Something you'd wished for over and over again until you simply couldn't take it anymore.

"No, no, no," you couldn't stop your mouth from its fumbling repetition. "Nononono. No. N-no, no, no!" Over again the word erupted from you until you were shouting. Until you were sobbing.

You covered your eyes with one hand to stop yourself from seeing, and your mouth with the other to keep what remained of your soul from spilling out.

You shook with grief--three years worth of grief that only became more surmountable with each day that passed--then anger.

How dare he, how dare Kas use this final thing against you, how dare you let him?

But that was just an excuse wasn't it? Some kind of excuse so you wouldn't have to face the reality that was just on the other side of your hands. One that you would cling onto to help your poor heart survive.

You would deny it, until you couldn't any longer.

"Sweetheart." You shook your head at the decadent rasp of his voice; your ears strained to catch more but you couldn't handle it. Tears began to leak from your eyes and collect in the creases of your fingers as you pressed them harder into your face. "Angel, please."

The urge to roll your eyes at the ironic nickname battled against the need to bask in it.

You could feel him get closer, feel his massive form invade your space. Your aura buzzed excitedly as it brushed against his with the proximity and your heart beat in your ears; your body knew what your mind refused to accept. It made you feel lightheaded.

Don't fucking pass out.

The claws worked their way beneath your fingers and you resisted as much as you could until you simply couldn't hold on any longer.

And once they were away, there was nothing that you could have done to stop yourself from responding to him.

The you that you had been just seconds earlier no longer existed. That being, forged by resentment and pain and grief and the will to succeed beyond all hope, was torn apart by those claws--gently peeled apart bit by bit--and as your eyes opened, you were suddenly the you that you were before. Or maybe, more accurately, the you that you were beside everything.

Despite everything.

The being that only existed with him.

You.

You were here with him.

Eddie.

And he was here with you.

Alone together and together alone.

No one else existed but the two of you as you opened your eyes and your gaze washed over him once again.

Lightning flashed overhead as you absorbed the sight before you.

Hands. Eddie's hands. Calloused from hours of guitar playing and scarred from that one time he got too eager pulling a stouffer's lasagna out of the oven and forgot the gloves. Only now they were scarred further, with lines along his phalanges and razor-sharp talons at the tips of them.

Hair. Eddie's hair. Soft and curled just so and sometimes shiny, but oftentimes just a frizzy mess from head banging so hard. It would get in his mouth, leaving him spitting and sputtering as he got some idea mid-headbang. Only now it was held up and out of his face by a fluffy green scrunchie, and only his bangs and a few loose pieces framed his features.

Face. Eddie's face. One that looked at you with so much relief and gentle love. Your memories couldn't hold a candle to having him here. Your eyes went blurry with tears again at the fact that he was actually here just inches from you. His eyes and lashes and his round nose and his kissable lips. Lips you needed to kiss like you needed air. Only those lips started to move to form words again and as they did, you spotted the sharp tips of fangs.

He looked the same, exactly the same...but simultaneously different in every way that counted.

Time stopped.

You thought about being in the trailer with Chrissy and Patrick, all the words that you had excused in the moment, as you allowed yourself to be tempted by Kas.

In actuality...had it really been Eddie? Words that had been borderline insidious suddenly took on a much more intimate connotation.

"You're not real." You breathed shakily, one last attempt at pulling back the veil at some trick of the mind. "I can't...I can't..."

On the other hand, you remembered the graveyard, the way Eddie had been there in a way...beyond your sight, refusing to be seen by you. Refusing to be known by you. And again countless other times. Including the day he'd...

"I can't look at you," you said weakly. "I'm not supposed to look at you."

What had he said to you then? That he'd never really left? That he would wait...as long as it took...and here he was now. That hadn't been Eddie; how could this suddenly be him? He was...

"And why not?" he chuckled gently. "I think we both deserved to see one another; I've crossed the oceans of time just to see you again."

"That's..." you stared at him in disbelief. Tremors wracked your body and his gaze went from fond to worried again.

Your mind went a mile a minute trying to come up with something, some way to deny all of this. Rapid fire, you thought. About Vecna and the Upside Down and the earthquakes. You thought about Wayne and Dustin and Max. Over and over, ideas flashed as all the pieces finally clicked together. Vampires that weren't vampires, and the Brides; the trailer and the visions and the grave and...and...and...

He was alive.

"That's..." You began to laugh, the small shakes of a giggle turning into big, bright guffaws that shook you. You grabbed his face with your hands and squished his cheeks together, gleefully watching as it smooshed and shifted in the way only his play-doh-like features could. "That's not the quote, you big dumb idiot."

Home had been an abstract concept for you for some time.

For most of your life, when you thought of home, you thought of your Nonna's house. Her flat, just downstairs from yours; you spent most nights there anyway, your father's childhood bedroom repurposed for you. You had a home in the dinners you'd cooked together and late nights where you'd watch Johnny Carson until it was time to hold hands and pray together before bed. Home meant turning the key in the lock of her door and her giving you big cheek kisses.

Tesoro di Nonna.

Her treasure. She was your treasure too, your best friend, but she, herself, was not your home. At least not anymore.

You found that when you came to Hawkins. When you met Eddie. From the moment you met him, he had been that warm place of comfort and love. When you left, and even when you believed him to be dead, going home meant returning to Hawkins.

Returning to him.

So when you both overcame the euphoria which accompanied the realization that you had found each other once again, and he said "let's go home," you knew that there wasn't far to go.

You were already there.

There was something about returning home after a long time away, though. Things changed and it didn't take very long for you to notice the changes in Eddie.

He held your hand as you walked through the barren waste of the Upside Down, and it was actually quite a long walk. Practically across the entirety of Hawkins, and you were truly in awe that it actually was Hawkins. You walked down familiar streets, through the town center that was fully intact unlike its decimated state in the real world, and Eddie even pointed out the windows of your old apartment over the deli, as if you forgot.

Very few words were shared between you at first, aside from short and fond little tidbits to reminisce old times spend together--something that you'd constantly been doing since your return; your heart ached to think that your ghost had followed him around, both in Hawkins and here, reminding him that you'd left him to this fate.

There was not much more conversation than that though, and while you basked in the sweet memories, especially being reunited, you couldn't help but wonder why he was so...uncharacteristically quiet. The Eddie you knew was never at a loss for words; why was he holding back asking you questions? Telling you how much he missed you?

You held back your own thoughts, questions, and admissions too if you were being honest. Something about being so open in this dimension, something about the strange din of silence due to the lack of life made you feel...strange.

You wondered if he felt the same way?

If you could feel the creatures that shuffled just out of your line of sight, given what you knew about the hive mind that existed between them, you knew Eddie could as well.

But if that was the case, he didn't show it. You supposed Kas he was the master of this realm; he didn't need to be afraid of it.

In fact, the more you observed him, the more you noticed how at ease he was here. He'd always been confident walking around Hawkins, shoulders straight and head held high despite the suspicious stares and whispers that seemed to follow him just because his last name was Munson. But now Hawkins--the Upside Down--seemed to bend to him the further you walked, proving his mastery over it.

Down one street, the tentacle vines slithered and shifted as Eddie led you ahead, and when you dared to look back they returned to their original places. Shadows at the corners of your eyes shifted as he pointed something out to you with a fond smile and a laugh. Finally, when you reached the woods, gnarled and dark as they were, his presence seemed to cause a group of bats that had been resting there to stir.

Instinctually, you flinched, divine sense tingling in response to their unnatural energy as they began to fly overhead; Eddie even squeezed your hand to calm you down, but your defenses were up now. You readied yourself for an attack as they circled and swooped down a little too close for comfort.

You watched, dumbstruck, as Eddie tsked and then reached up with his free hand; one of the bats got lower and its many flailing tails brushed against his fingertips before it screeched and then soared away. You felt that there was something more to it, though; there was something else there as his fingers twitched against them.

A yearning, maybe; a desire to...what? Join them?

"It's alright," he reassured you softly, an undertone of happiness in his voice. "See, they're harmless."

"Harmless?" you scoffed in disbelief, having witnessed their devastation first hand. He looked back towards you and lowered his arm, brow furrowed in confusion at your tone; you felt a strange rumble, an undercurrent, just beneath the surface of his skin as he flexed his hand around yours again. "I..."

"Sweetheart. Just trust me. What are you--"

Like that, the illusion was broken.

It hadn't taken that long. A couple of hours, mostly spent in silence and the overwhelming awe of being in one another's presence again, but suddenly you realized he was different.

Of course, you were different too.

You never really fathomed a moment like this; you'd always thought--hoped--you'd be reunited in Heaven. That everything would work itself out there. All wounds healed, all sins forgiven.

But this was not Heaven, and you'd never imagined your reunion like this.

You looked at him again, really looked at him this time. Tried to look past your Eddie, to see what had become of him here in the Upside Down. You started with his hands, the long scars you noticed just a short while ago, and you traced a finger along them. It was almost cathartic as you felt a phantom ache in your own hand, as you began to truly digest and understand what had happened to him.

Dustin had refused to tell you...and with good reason.

The ache burned through you the further you went. His arm was covered with the sleeve of his leather jacket, but still your fingers traveled, touch penetrating the worn leather; he looked and felt...bulkier somehow. Even his skin looked too tight on him. Gone was your noodley, human boyfriend and in his place...something else. Broader shoulders, a thicker torso, and a slightly elongated neck that proudly bore scars as well.

Just like your own bites, you thought, as Eddie's aches were momentarily replaced by your own. You both displayed the healed remnants of shredded, devoured flesh.

The memory of the pain they once brought him practically sang through his skin the further you went and you couldn't help but listen and absorb it. Unlike your scars, even the most recent ones from the Brides, that had been the product of your will to survive, Eddie's were the evidence of something dastardly that sought to destroy and consume. In fact, they had succeeded; you felt the burn of a thousand mouths filled with sharp little teeth ripping through flesh. Ripping through his flesh.

The longer you held on, the more you felt and understood. Mouths led to claws, consumption turned to torture, and eventually he was ripped further--pulled apart--until he was left broken, raw, and screaming.

Just like you'd seen back at the Creel House.

Vecna cut him open and emptied everything that made him him, and filled him with darkness and malice and--

You wrenched your hands away from his and rubbed them together as they tingled, suddenly numb. All of the echoes of his pain vanished and instead you just felt...conflict.

"What's wrong?" Eddie stepped closer, worry etched deeper creases into his face now. "What did you do?"

"I--" you flinched away from him and he paused.

This wasn't just Eddie anymore, your Eddie who survived a few scrapes and bruises and came out of any conflict--large or small--with a few choice words for his assailant and a story to tell.

This was Kas, forged through the burning flames of Hell to fight. To destroy.

And if not by name, then by acts.

Acts done with Vecna's influence, at first, and now atrocities in their own right.

Eddie always knew when your mind buzzed with a thousand thoughts; he'd say that you were thinking too loud. Time hadn't changed that, it seemed. He still knew exactly how to read you.

"Listen," he started carefully, treating you like a spooked animal because that's exactly what you were. "I know you have questions. We just need to get home first."

Unfortunately, you were also a stubborn piece of shit.

"Where is home?" you questioned. "What...Eddie...how?"

"I'll tell you everything," he promised. "But you're hurt...and I'm sure you're hungry. Thirsty? I could only bring you so far before--"

"Before?" you urged.

"The hungrier I get," he began. "The harder it is to control everything. Control myself. I couldn't be around you like that. But now you're awake...and I have to get you home. We need...to get home..."

You wanted him to explain it all to you; you'd seen the fangs, witnessed the Brides and other vampires feeding, it wasn't a secret that he must hunger for blood too. You just needed more. But he needed something too. There was a singular, desperate focus that edged his words--the need to get you home, get you safe--and you knew you weren't going to get answers unless you obliged his request.

If he could be patient...so could you.

You gestured ahead and the two of you continued your journey.

However, you made sure to keep your hands to yourself this time, unwilling to inadvertantly see more of his becoming, and Eddie clearly noticed.

"My hand is pretty cold," he said after a short stretch of silence. His eyes slid over to you and he wiggled his fingers. "Sure is a shame that there's nothing to warm it up."

You scoffed and your heart ached; this was how he got you to hold his hand in your coat pocket during the winter as you'd venture out and about. It was his thing, refusing to wear his gloves so he wouldn't fumble with them when he wanted to smoke, while also taking the opportunity to feel your hand against his.

It was one of your favorite bits of attention that he gave you; he was still your Eddie. You knew that, and deep down inside you only wanted to know that.

But things were different.

"Ed--"

"What? You don't love me anymore or something?" he teased; however, when he glanced over at you, there was a real worry in his eyes. "Don't want to hold my hand? Hmm? That it?"

"Come on," you scoffed. "Don't. You just said we'd talk once we got home, wherever home is. We've been walking forever."

"Well we're not there yet," he bristled and laughed; it was a bitter, condescending chuckle. One you'd never heard come out of him before; not to you, at least.

"Can't you just tell me where we're going? To...Rick's or..."

"It isn't in Hawkins."

"You can't expect us to walk to Muncie," you attempted a joke.

There was a tense pause and he turned his head downward and quickened his pace.

"Don't worry," he said, tone stiff. "We're almost there."

The confidence you'd noticed earlier was suddenly gone, and as he walked, he seemed to make himself smaller.

You really fucked this up.

You tried to reach out for him, abandoning your resolve of keeping him at arms length, but he failed to notice.

He just kept walking.

Before long, the town seemed to melt away.

Everything did.

Gone were the buildings, the trees, even the roads. Until there was a vast grey nothingness, accentuated by floating particles and a swirling, cursed sky. If you thought the Upside Down was a wasteland before, this only solidified that thought.

After some time, even looking back didn't seem to help things; there were no milestones that you could ascertain. Just flat terrain, the sky, and the horizon.

And Eddie.

You tried to stave away the hateful thoughts that this was a trap, that there really was a Kas out there and he was manipulating you again. Or, even worse, that Eddie was the one manipulating you.

What good did those thoughts do? Except negate the elation that still bubbled hopefully within you, elation you were also trying to hold back.

You were here now; he could kill you any time if he wanted. You weren't dead. Yet.

Lost in thought, you failed to notice that he stopped, and you walked right into his back. You shook yourself off and stepped around him, only to find a decrepit-looking ranch-style house. The attached carport's roof was partially collapsed, the siding a little cockeyed, and the mailbox was broken; it looked unremarkable, and still...

"We're here," he pressed his lips together and gestured towards the house. "Home sweet home."

"I don't recognize this place," you remarked as he led you forward.

"You wouldn't," he shook his head. "I never brought you here; it doesn't exist anymore, actually. They tore it down to build some fancy condos in...what...80? 81? Only place you're gonna find it now is up here."

He tapped against the side of his head and then waved his hand around.

"This is what it looked like the last time I saw it. Broken, a little sad. Right before it came down.”

"Why is it here then?" you asked.

He sighed and looked around.

"Let's just get inside."

The interior of the house was worlds different.

Well...comparatively.

It was bigger on the inside, the walls somehow taller than they had been just moments before you stepped through the threshold. You entered into an open concept living room that was attached to the kitchen, not unlike the trailer. Both rooms were wood paneled and there was a carpet that was split-pea green, making the already drab atmosphere darker.

Eddie brushed past you to get to the kitchen and you moved ahead to the sofa, weariness of the day finally catching up to you. You collapsed onto the brown faux-suede loveseat and laid your head against the granny-square blanket that was draped over the back; beneath the musty, mildewy smell of the Upside Down, you could faintly detect something lighter and sweeter.

Your mom wore orange blossom perfume just like this. Aqua Manda. Your father brought a bottle home for her on her birthday one year.

You cleared your throat and chalked it up to a trick of the mind; you were tired and hurt, of course little things like that would escape your psyche.

Eddie shuffled around in the kitchen for a few minutes and when returned, his hands were filled with packaged snack cakes, a six-pack of grape crush, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and a roll of cloth bandages. He fell onto the loveseat beside you and dropped his plunder between you.

"Wayne," he stated simply and gestured to everything, as though that explained it. Maybe it did, to him; on your walk you figured that everyone knew that Eddie was here and alive, Wayne included. It didn't make you as angry as you expected yourself to be. Not as angry as you'd been when you read about Kas in the Dungeon Master's Guide.

What use was it to get angry, when you just wanted answers?

You stared at Eddie expectantly, hoping that he would start talking, but instead, he moved to pick a package of Raspberry Zingers from between you. You watched, in slight awe, as he flicked his thumb against the plastic and the sharpness of his claw sliced through it quicker than any knife. He did the same with one of the pop cans, puncturing the aluminum instead of using the tab.

You, knowing these were some of his favorites and having seen him inhale more of the sweet treats than you dared count, expected him to tuck in. Instead he placed the open package and can in your hands with a longing look, careful not to touch your skin, before he went on to unwrap the bandages.

You said his name gently and he ignored you.

"Eddie," you dropped the zingers and grabbed his hand to stop him. He was the one to flinch now, but regardless, he looked you in the eye. "I need you...to tell me where we are, and tell me what's going on. Everything. We're here now...you promised."

His eyes darted between yours rapidly; if he felt that your thoughts were loud before, his were blaring right now. Broadcasting panic and worry; confusion as to what to say and where to begin.

He opened his mouth and inhaled, but his sharp fangs glinted in the low light of the room and your gaze, naturally, was drawn to them. He planted a hand over his mouth and after a second, rubbed over the scars that stretched over his cheeks.

Finally his hand dropped to his lap and he shifted in his seat; he leant back against the cushions and got comfortable.

"Before I lived with Wayne," he started, "before mom died, we lived here. It wasn't big; big enough for the two of us, a little less when my dad was still out. Everything looks a little bigger, but I guess everything does when you're younger. This...this is just how I remember it.

"That's what this place runs on. Memories. Feelings. It...generates them but also cannibalizes them. Nancy Wheeler said something...before...about it actually being 1983 here. Really, it can be any place and time you want. Henry...Vecna...showed me that. So when I started needing space...away from him, I came as far as I could past the outer limits of Hawkins and I made this place. Where he would have a harder time finding me. Where I could be alone.

"With you."

"Me?" you questioned.

"I can't explain it," he shook his head. "I can't explain any of it. It's...fuzzy. Who I am now...and who I was before...I'm not the same person.

"I was hurt so badly when you left...I thought I hated you for a while. But then...you were there, in everything I did. I had hope because you gave me hope Sweetheart. Every day I thought about getting in that van and...finding a way to find you. Some way. But I had patience and I could wait for you to come back. On the toughest days, though, you were there. You were there when the blankets on the bed felt especially warm. Or the frozen lasagna I put in the oven tasted especially cheesy. Or when I'd have a bad dream and go to get cookies out of the cupboard. You were there, and it was ok. I could hold on until you made it back to me.

"You were even out there at Skull Rock with me," he smiled. "The night...after Patrick died. I was wet and cold and so god damn traumatized and when I closed my eyes, I swore I could feel you there. I heard you tell me it would all be alright. You're the reason I didn't give up."

You knew that feeling well; more than you could really put to words.

He went on and gave you his account, his perspective and feelings, about what happened last year. Told you about witnessing Chrissy and Patrick's deaths, about running and hiding, about being hunted. He stopped to make a joke about how brave “the kids” were, braver than he was. And then his tone turned fearful and distant when he explained how he decided to be brave for them in return, brave for Dustin.

You of course knew some, but hearing all of it, especially the role he played in it all, was devastating. The what-if's returned; what if you hadn't left, what if you could have been here to save him--save all of them--what if he hadn't died. Of course the last one was void now. Still, as he closed his eyes in pain and you felt it choke you up as his emotions projected outwards again—voluntarily this time, instead of you plucking pieces off of him—you thought:

What if you could have spared him this suffering?

"He took everything," Eddie whispered. "I thought the bats were bad enough. The pain. They were just hungry but the pain. The others were supposed to kill him, to chop his head off or something, and the bats fell and the pain stopped. It was supposed to be over.

"But then he found me."

"Vecna."

"I thought I was a goner," he bared his teeth painfully, somewhere between a grimace and a smile really. "Death took forever, sweetheart. I do not recommend it. Not a bit. I don't even think I died. One minute Henderson was crying over me and the next, Vecna was tearing through my head. I always thought...well, you know when Obi-Wan tells the storm trooper these are not the droids you're looking for? I thought that I could resist that. Turns out, I was just as weak-minded as the rest of them."

He recounted his torture, the mental and the physical, and you felt it again. More acutely this time. His memories projected onto you felt fuzzy and strange, though, as if he hadn't even been there for it all himself. You recognized, through the echoes of agony, that was only so much the human mind could take, and Eddie toed the line of survival through sheer luck. He had gone through Hell, and came out alive in the end; how had he done it?

"It's because I had you," he explained. He leant in closer, voice hushed like he had a secret; he made the edges of your being feel tingly with his proximity. "Just like I told you. You were there; I know it. I held on because of you."

"Please, Eddie," you whispered. Please...what? You didn't know.

Please don't try to lessen the guilt.

Please don't try to make you feel better that you left him to this fate.

"It's true," he continued. "Vecna could take everything away. Made me hate everything, everyone. Made me kill for him. He made me his monster, his beast, his weapon..."

You swallowed painfully. How karmically poetic; a weapon of good and a weapon of evil...in love.

Fate was cruel.

"...But he could never take you away from me."

You saw it then, a flash. Some recollection of his, some coping mechanism that he'd used to survive. You saw through Eddie's eyes, felt his body; there was something quite...off about him. Shoulders broader, arms longer, fingers wet with blood.

Wings? You could feel them jutting from his shoulder blades. But he didn't have wings...

And in front of him, instead of some poor innocent soul...there you were. Strange, once again, seeing a version of you that you didn't recognize. She looked...younger...more lively than the one you saw in Billy's mind. She was smiling, eyes bright.

Speaking of eyes, you could see his reflection in your own eyes; you strained to decipher it, because it simply did not look like Eddie.

Not the Eddie of your memory. Not the Eddie who sat before you now.

You gasped and it was gone, and you were back in the living room with Eddie again. You stared at him, really took stock of him, trying to reconcile the different images of him that floated in your mind to truly accept who he was in front of you.

Broken but seemingly still whole. Alive.

Human...but not.

And that's what made you hesitate.

"Eddie," you licked your lips nervously. "Dustin said...that you couldn't leave." His brow twitched.

"I can't," he answered through gritted teeth, entire demeanor changing in the blink of an eye. He clenched and unclenched his hands, grasping at something that was beyond the fabric of reality. "I'm stuck here."

"Do you know why?"

"No. It's driving me crazy; I just want...to leave. Vecna couldn't leave either. He needed Max."

He noticed the way you stiffened at his words and his eyes went wide with fear. All of the tension that had built up within him was released again and he held his hands out to prove he was harmless.

"I don't...I'm not...I don't think that's what it is for me. The Upside Down doesn't want me to leave; I'm just not strong enough somehow. Not ready. I feel like...if I can figure out what I need, it'll let me go. I just don't know what that is.

"I did enough to save lil Red, though, twice," he ran a finger over his heart in a cross, in promise. "Not gonna just throw that all away and kill her."

"She's afraid that you are."

"Well, you'll just tell her I'm not."

"You've killed other people though," you rebuffed, almost too quickly.

It was at the forefront of your mind. Your dumb boyfriend who fed stray cats and raccoons around the trailer park...ordering an army of dark creatures to kill; it didn't make sense.

"You've killed too," he scoffed, a challenge in his eyes. "Don't act like I haven't watched you out there, angel. I've seen everything; this whole time."

"I thought you were a vicious monster," you argued.

"Who says I'm not?" That threw you for a loop. "I've told you my story, it's your turn now."

"No, we're not done with you," you reached across and jabbed a finger into his chest. "You send the bats...the Brides--nice name by the way--" You sneered sarcastically.

"Thanks," he grinned widely. "Got it all from Sven."

"--into Hawkins every day to feed. To kill."

That made him falter.

"No," he denied. "Not every day."

"Every day."

"Every three days, every week. Not every day."

"Tell me how that's possible," you narrowed your eyes. "When your friends back in Hawkins have gone out every day since I've been back for their clean up brigade, and they've been attacked every time. I've heard about it and I've seen it."

Eddie got quiet; he blinked once and his eyes became unfocused. He stared through you for what felt like ages and at some point you contemplated waving a hand in front of his face to get him to come back to you. You were about to raise your hand to do just that when a thin, opaque membrane slid sideways across his eyes, and then retracted back into the corners of them.

You thought it was a trick of the low light for a moment, then it happened again. A blink, just like a bird did with their third eyelid.

"What the fu--"

"They haven't," he interrupted you, consciousness casually sliding back into his body like he hadn't just vacated it. "They've only been leaving through the gates when I tell them to. It's been three days."

He shifted and shook the sleeve of his jacket further up his arm to reveal his wrist, then carefully unfastened the watch that sat there.

"They need to feed," he explained as he fiddled with the buttons. "I need...I need to feed again too. Otherwise I don't have control. And I need to be able to control them. They take their fill, and whatever they can spare, they bring to me. Since I can't leave. What uh...what day is it?"

"The fifteenth," you answered stiffly.

"Of?"

"...October."

"Hmmm..."

"What?"

"Guess I hadn't...nevermind." He cleared his throat. His hand shot out and grasped your wrist, then he carefully fastened the watch on your arm. "There. They're supposed to go out tonight and then you can see for yourself. Three days. Wayne will be by then too; I'll ask him to bring you your things. I know you left them behind."

"Because you...because your Brides cornered me...they...Fred...Chrissy...ugh..." You wrenched your hand from his grasp and scrubbed them over your face. "I...Eddie...I need to know why...why you---"

"I think I've told you enough," he interjected with an air of finality. "I've been trying to get to you, trying to find you, ever since I saw you back in Hawkins through their eyes. And now you're here with me where you belong, and it's time I got some answers too, sweetheart. It's been long enough. I deserve to know the truth."

So you told him.

Eddie was right, he deserved to know the truth, and you'd been itching to tell him since the moment he kissed you after your very first date.

Now was the chance to get it all off your chest.

You told him everything, and not just the condensed version that you told Mary Victoria. You bared your cursed soul to, probably, the only person on earth that had ever seen you. Really and truly seen you.

Despite all that time apart, he still saw you as though no time had passed at all.

He had no qualms interjecting when you told him about your family history and about the curse. He questioned everything and you had no doubt that if it wasn't for the conditions you were in now--if life had not been as cruel to the two of you as it had been--he would have had his Hellfire notebook open and been furiously writing ideas for his next campaign.

Better yet, he would be the one figuring out the way to break it. He would have every fantasy book from the Hawkins Library checked out and spread across the floor, just to save you.

When you got to the more contemporary parts of your story, when you filled in all the gaps in your life that you left when he first got to know you, he was pensive and empathetically quiet. He still made his little jokes here and there, tried to make you laugh at the parts where all you wanted to do was cry, and he didn't hesitate to bridge the gap and hold your hand when you needed to find the strength to keep going.

And keep going was all you did.

For hours.

You told him about every monster you faced, every demise you escaped, every person who used you as a tool and held your salvation over your head to get you to act on their behalf.

Your story couldn't hold a candle to his when it came to personal agony, but he made you feel like everything you'd endured was just as soul-splitting.

Maybe it was.

But this...getting everything out in the open...it was so freeing.

Gone were the shadowy secrets that lurked in the corners of your mind, gone was all the doubt you felt in yourself.

You cracked your chest open, pried out every rusting nail you had driven into you to keep it shut, and let Eddie see all of you--see your heart--and still he stared at you with awe and resplendent devotion in his eyes.

Just like he always had.

"Not gonna lie sweetheart," he started once you'd reached a lull in the story. "That was all, uh...pretty fucking metal."

"Fuck you," you slapped the back of your hand against his chest.

"All this time you let me go on about demons and the devil and Hellfire," his tone was teasing and a smile threatened the corners of his mouth; he couldn't fight it for long and neither could you. "And really you were out here studying the Lesser Key of Solomon and the Necronomicon for fun?"

"Not for fun. For survival" He grabbed your hand and held it against his chest, used his leverage to tug you closer. He stared at you in awe.

"My girlfriend! A real life paladin!"

"God damn it Eddie!" You giggled.

"Protecting the masses, no wonder you wanted to play as a rogue, you would have been bored as a paladin. Can you smite people?"

"I swear to--yes, I guess so."

"So many secrets! And then you told me all of your little stories and lessons--"

"Eddie I swear.”

"--let me believe you fucked the Mothman?"

"Excuse me," you erupted into a cackle. "You came to that conclusion all on your own."

He stared at you with hooded eyes and a fond gaze, humming his doubt.

You shifted the hand that he held, moved your palm across his chest from over his jacket to the thin, threadbare t-shirt he wore underneath. At first, you felt for his heartbeat, to reassure you one last time that it was really him...that he was really alive.

It was a flutter, but it was there. A soft thum pum, thum pum that transferred from his chilled skin, through the shirt, and into yours. His hand enclosed your wrist and squeezed tightly, and you wondered if he was doing the same. Feeling your pulse, making sure you were really there too.

He huffed a breath as you shifted closer; your fingers brushed against something hard that was just under the collar of the shirt as you had made your little search, and upon closer inspection, you discovered a cross on a silver chain.

Your necklace.

"You kept it?" you asked.

"Mmhmm." You shook his hand off your wrist and you ran your thumb over the tiny metal flowers; your crucifix might have been gone but this was still here. "The day you left...I was so upset I threw it. Threw it in some random corner of the trailer. When I realized that it was one of the last things I had left of you I went to try and find it, only to realize it was gone. I kicked myself, cried to Wayne...I was so fucking stupid.

"Then after everything, after Vecna was gone and I healed Max back up...I found it. Here in the Upside Down of all places. Must have fallen through when the gate opened up...but it made its way back to me. Just like you."

"You're a sap," you whispered.

"Guess what? So are you."

"I am," you laughed. You felt yourself choke up then, happiness turning to sorrow in an instant. Well, maybe it was still happiness…just the sad kind. "Hmmm."

"What is it?"

"Nothing, nothing," you cleared your throat to try and let it go, but it got the better of you and tears began to prickle at the corners of your eyes.

You couldn’t help yourself, you touched him again. You’d denied yourself for too long; you needed to be as close to him as you could for as long as you could. You touched his face. Beneath his bangs, over the crest of his eyes, ran a finger over his lips, even shoved your fingers over his fangs to inspect them, to see how dangerous they were, much to his displeasure.

“Don’t,” he hissed. “I have to feed, I could hurt you.”

”I don’t care.” The words burst from you. “I don’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he said in a warning tone but you ignored him.

“I spent all this time thinking you were dead and now here you are, right in front of me. Something I never thought I would have ever again. So excuse me if I don’t care that you might bite me. Hurt me. Nothing could compare with the hurt I felt when I lost you.”

“I get it.”

“I burnt down a building.”

“That’s—”

“Pretty metal, I know.”

“I was gonna say it sounds a little crazy,” you snorted. “Cmon? You burned down a building for little old me? With a lighter and gasoline?”

“With that smiting power you were so interested in earlier,” you explained.

“Ok well…shit. That’s pretty hot.”

“Fuck. Off.” You laughed wetly.

“You keep telling me to fuck off, I’ll leave you here.”

You could tell he was trying to make another joke but you didn’t have the patience for it.

“I’m trying to kiss you right now, Ed,” you told him matter-of-factly.

He was shocked, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, like the thought of actually kissing you, actually being with you, hadn't crossed his mind either. As though he hadn’t just used the brides to bring you to completion through the mental bond they shared. To be close to you, to share in pleasure and proximity, together again.

You were about to back down, about to say it was ok, especially if his hunger--fuck, you were gonna have to keep that in mind now, weren’t you--made him nervous. Instead, he surged forward, lips mashing into yours.

It was clumsy and a little painful at first. Both of you were out of practice, it was obvious, and there were, of course, extra teeth to be mindful of. Still, once you crossed the divide and settled yourself in his lap for easy access, you found your rhythm again.

It was as though you hadn’t been apart for a single minute, let alone three years.

Kissing him was nice, it always had been; tender sweetness, even in the throes of pleasure. You always used to joke that if Eddie could find a way to meld the two of you together with his mouth alone, he would; now was no different, as the plush pillows of his lips caressed and pecked at yours.

It didn't take long for the spark that was ignited between you to grow into an inferno and you couldn't really tell who was the needier of the two of you as breathing got heavier and tongue and teeth began to explore. All you knew was him. A sensory experience, being surrounded by each other again, and it was one that you had to learn all over again because it was different. Gone was the smell and taste of cigarette smoke and cheap laundry detergent and soda or bazooka bubblegum he enjoyed, and in its place something more visceral.

The bite of arctic air and nature and musk and dirt and blood.

Aside from the few times you'd bitten your tongue or split your lip, you'd never experienced the taste of blood before, and certainly not blood other than your own. Tangy, but not unpleasant. You could get used to it blooming along your tastebuds if it meant you never had to leave Eddie again.

He departed your lips then, as though he could sense the thought and didn't want you to endure it any longer than you had to. He left one, two, three pecks to the corner of your mouth before he descended down your cheek and along your jaw. He tsked as he reached your neck.

"What did they do to you huh?" he muttered and pecked and laved over the tender, ravaged flesh. He vacated one side of your throat for the other, inspecting the damage there; it was the side that Barb had bitten too, and you knew that it was surely worse. His tongue slithered out and he growled as it slowly ran along the ridges of each wound; the sound transferred from his body to yours, a rattling chittering vibration that sent chills up your spine.

"I didn't tell them to do this. When I realized..." he began an apology, but you stopped him.

"It's ok," you huffed a weak smile. "I'll heal. I always do."

"Hmmm."

He nudged his nose against yours, a soft rub of its bulbous tip, before diving back into your mouth.

From soft touches against faces and shoulders, hands suddenly moved to grip hips and thread into hair. The scrunchie was quick to go and his curls cascaded over his shoulders; you immediately buried your fingers in their depths, steering you where you wanted him to go, on the off chance he didn't already know.

His hands moved then to settle on your thighs, and gravity shifted as he hoisted you into his arms and stood. You broke away and stared at him in question. Where had this unexpected strength come from; was it more the result of this transformation in the Upside Down? You'd found unbelievable strength as your abilities developed over the years too.

Moreover, where had he found the idea or desire to carry you anyway?

You could spend as much time here on the loveseat as you wanted; it's not like you hadn't fucked on a sofa before.

"Where are we going?" you asked as he took his first steps.

"Bedroom."

"My legs work."

"They won't before long," he grinned and you rolled your eyes. Vampire or undead or whatever amalgam of an upside down creature as he was, Eddie was still your boyfriend who would quote bad porn just to annoy you.

He brought you down the short hallway to a bedroom; it was unremarkable and had a look and feel about it that was similar to his room in the trailer in some ways...but still not at all.

There was a poster on the wall, and Sweetheart sitting on an amp in the corner--had he been the one to play Sympathy for the Devil that you'd heard on the radio; you hadn't been going crazy--a stack of t-shirts and clothes sat on a broken dresser, and a dented old thermos rested on the windowsill.

He laid you down on a mattress that had been placed on the floor and was laden with pillows and blankets. He started to rid you of your shoes and your jeans, taking as extra care as he had been not to rip into them with his claws; as needy as you were, you were also curious, and you took that moment to inspect this bed of his further.

One of the pillows was stained with blood, some of the blankets shredded to ribbons, and, buried amongst a soft comforter...two long bones that were sharpened to points.

Eddie faltered in his movements as you lifted them closer to your face to inspect and he immediately pulled his hands away from you; his arms crossed over his torso and he shrugged.

"Guess I'm a little messy," he explained sheepishly. "There, uh...might be some more in here...somewhere. Be careful."

There were a million thoughts racing through your mind; where did these bones come from, what did they belong to, had he...eaten some creature? Once again, you needed to internalize all of it quickly. This was just going to come with the territory of having Eddie back, wasn't it?

"It's...ok," you swallowed thickly and turned your eyes back to him. "I can just use it to stab you in the heart if worse comes to worse."

He snorted and licked his lips to stop himself from smiling; in the end, you both failed. You were giggling and you let out a honk of laughter that you hated but Eddie adored; he'd told you so many times. You covered your face with your hands to hide from him, but he was quick to kneel down in the cradle of your thighs to pull them away.

"I want to see you," he whispered. "I need to see you."

He kissed your hands, one, then the other, and then pulled you to sit upright; you helped him remove your jacket--he recalled it had been Mickey's...and then noted that Mickey had died by his hand as he thumbed the rips in the shoulders from Chrissy's attempted-abduction of you in the square--then your t-shirt. He was extra cocky as he used those talons to slice through your bra.

"You're an asshole," you muttered as he ducked to capture your lips again.

"Remember," he pressed a kiss and then backed off to grin, "when I kept fumbling with the hooks."

There wasn't much talking after that, as you began your true reunion, your worship of one another.

He knew where to lick, where to kiss, to get the sweetest and most desperate noises out of you. Of course, he also had his favorite little places to put his hands and his mouth.

He was careful of your throat, but that didn't mean he couldn't suck a hickey to your jaw, or your collarbone, or the side of one of your breasts. He sniffed your skin and sighed dreamily every now and again, pressed his face into the softness of your chest and your belly and just rested there for a moment, before continuing his descent.

He didn't leave an inch of you untouched when it came to these new discoveries and devotions.

He paid special attention to each prominent scar he found. Whispered words of apology, of understanding, as he bore witness to all the ways you sacrificed yourself for a God who'd essentially abandoned you. Abandoned both of you.

Every nerve in your body was alight; not because he kept pulling pleasure to the surface, but simply because of the proximity. You luxuriated in having him there, in carding your fingers through his hair, in hearing the timber of his voice and feeling it as it hummed along your skin. Even when he got too carried away and his claws scratched you or punctured your skin, as blood began to pool to the surface, you found some sense of joy. The little zings of pain only added to the pleasure.

For Eddie, though, they simply seemed to test the strength of his willpower to tame the beast within.

He finally reached the crux of you, and instead of touching or kissing as you expected him to, bringing you pleasure that way--something he'd always enjoyed before--he got to his knees and began working the belt off his jeans.

"What are you doing?" you demanded breathlessly, desperately. "You were..."

"I just...I'll..." he fumbled over his words, head still ducked as his hands worked. His voice sounded muffled and he refused to look at you. "We...we'll just finish up here and then I need to go."

"Go!?"

"I want to make you feel good, baby, I just...I can't stay. I'm already hanging on by a thread as it is."

You thought that he just meant that he needed to find his own release, which was understandable, but to need to leave? He flung his belt off to the side, and as he did, you saw. Really saw.

His eyes seemed more sunken in, surrounded by shadowy-bruises, scleras bright red. His fangs, which had just been two lone points in his mouth, seemed to have multiplied; four sharp teeth, now elongated, on his upper jaw, and two on the lower.

You called his name once, then again more forcibly, to get him to stop as he shed his jacket. He froze, and then stared at you, practically ashamed.

"They'll be back soon and I'm hungry," he explained. He let the jacket drop to the ground and then stared hungrily at his hands, at the fresh blood at the points of his nails. "I'm so...hungry."

He had mentioned that, that he'd been hungry, before. Which was why he couldn't be there when you were brought to the Upside Down.

But he said that he'd fed days ago; how long had you been here?

Was it just the drawing of your blood that had him hungry again? Needing to be sustained.

You spoke instinctually.

"Feed on me."

His eyes widened in shock.

"Sweetheart--" he tried to warn you, but you stopped him.

"Chrissy and Patrick already did," you rationalized. "Barb did. You're not going to do anything that they didn’t; just...try to be gentle and don't kill me."

"I'm trying not to kill you."

"I know," you encouraged. "I trust you. Drink my blood. Feed on me."

You held your hand out and nodded to your wrist; your neck was already bitten and healing. You both would probably have a better...uh...experience if he fed from there instead.

Eddie released a long breath and rolled his head backwards, hands coming up to his eyes as though it was the most difficult decision in the world. The only decision that mattered.

But, faster than your eyes could see, he was on you, lips and tongue caressing your wrist, lavishing over your pulse. You closed your eyes for a second...until it felt like his tongue elongated and wrapped around your wrist entirely...and they shot open again.

He was too quick though. Another blur of movement, and your underwear had simply vanished and Eddie was nuzzling the softness of your thigh with his nose, smelling the path your arteries, smelling the musk of your sex. You strained your neck to watch him--settled on his stomach, half off the mattress, with one of your legs thrown over his shoulder--but you couldn't hold it for long as he caressed your slit. As he stroked his fingers through your wetness and found your clit, slowly and torturously, as his nose followed the path upwards.

A delicate caress was all it took for the pleasure to invade your senses, ready as you were from all of the foreplay. Your body was primed for more after being starved for so long and only given a taste of salvation from him and his puppets previously. He rolled his fingers over and over, bringing you higher; he was mindful of his claws with each touch and caress, still you felt the cold huff of his breath chuckling when you bore down on nothingness as he rasped the sharp edges over the softness of you just so.

It had always been a game with you, pushing each other further to see who could hold out longer and who would break first--a delicious give and take--but it seemed he was focused on one thing now: a delicious prize for the both of you.

And needed to get there as quickly as possible.

You whined as your body tingled; your pleasure climbed and he hummed, his ministrations getting quicker. Sensing you were close to the edge, he pushed a finger into your heat, then a second, and your hips bucked. If the rasp of his claws outside had created a mix of pleasure and pain, inside it made you question everything. And as he pistoned his fingers once...twice...and pressed on your clit, you found euphoria.

You found Heaven.

And so did he.

You barely registered him biting into you at first, such pleasure raced through your body, but the sting of the first mouthful of blood being pulled from you brought you back to reality.

You rapidly came down from your high, so pleasantly numb, to the sounds of his lewd slurping and gulping of one mouthful then the next. If you had the capability of higher thought, you might wonder if you'd built some sort of tolerance to being feasted on like this, but your focus was on the remnants of your pleasure...and on him.

Eddie let out a delicious groan with a particularly painful pull, and you winced. He mouth released from your thigh with a satisfying pop, and, like a predator, he turned his gaze to meet yours.

Half hidden by the slopes of your body, you could still see the way his nose and lips were stained red. He bared his teeth at you--in a smile or a warning, you couldn't tell for sure--then set his sights back on your center.

Blood made an interesting addition to your own slickness, as he lowered his mouth onto your pussy; you twitched as he licked your essence away, one hunger sated and replaced by another. Gone were his fingers, as he moved your leg off his shoulder and spread you open to feast once more. You bucked against him as he stoked the fires within you again, tried to fight him so you could grind against his mouth, but he didn't let up.

"E-Eddie," you whined and he moaned, tongue thrumming against your clit and then sliding to your entrance to collect the ambrosia that you blessed him with.

You didn't want to beg, especially when you would gladly take every ounce of attention he bestowed upon you, but you wanted him. Wanted all of him. Wanted to see him.

Wanted to be with him, as one.

And the fucker hadn't even taken his clothes off yet.

"E-eddie, please," you cried, unable to convey exactly what you wanted. "I need you."

He clearly took that to mean more and more is exactly what he gave you, enough that should have made you surrender, made you melt for him.

He rolled his tongue against your sensitive nub, let his fangs rasp over you, before he began to suckle your clit and you had to grab his head and tug to try and get him to stop.

This was everything you wanted. But maybe not everything you wanted right now. The denial would be delicious.

Your nails scraped his scalp and pulled at the long strands of his hair until he finally finally released his focus from your quivering cunt.

Both of you heaved and gasped heavily.

He cuffed a hand against his chin to try and wipe off the mix of your blood and slick and you groaned; he didn't have to look so enticing doing something like that.

"So bossy," he grinned naughtily.

He didn't have to look so enticing saying something like that either.

"I am," you told him. "Because I need you--"

"And I was about to let you come right there, sweetheart."

"I need you...I need to feel you," you told him.

"Hmmm, tempting," he inched his way up your body, pressing bloody kisses to your mound, then your stomach. He stopped and rested his chin there.

There was some spike of unidentified emotion inside of you. Wrath, maybe. Annoyance, definitely.

"Don't tell me," you hissed at him. "That you're not looking for your own release."

"I am," he nodded and kissed up. Further and further. Your ribs, your breasts, laying his head there now. You couldn't help but caress his forehead, push his bangs out of his eyes as he stared up at you like you hung the stars.

You could feel him shift, feel the hardness of him straining against his jeans as he squirmed against you.

"Don't tell me that you don't want to fuck me," you whispered. "Don't tell me that you aren't just itching to come inside of me Eddie."

He kissed once against your clavicle, once on the hickey he left on your jaw and then hovered over your lips...

"Please," he whispered. "Let me fuck you."

You grabbed him and pulled him to you, lips crashing and hungry as you took what you craved from him.

Frantic movement on shaky limbs as you both knelt on the mattress and stripped him of his clothes between the clashing of your mouths in desperation.

It wasn't until you needed to part so you could pull his shirt over his head that you paused.

Tension.

It was sudden and suffocating as you finally saw all of him. Your hungry eyes found his cock first, lengthy and hard and fisted in his hand as he rolled his head back on his shoulders with relief for the first time all night. Which was funny because he was not shy about humping a bed once upon a time; had he learned some kind of virtuous patience in the years you'd been away? It was almost impossible to fathom.

But then, your eyes were drawn to the rest of his body.

Your hand went to your mouth in horror as you finally witnessed all of him. Witnessed what came out of the other side after he'd been chewed up and spit out by Vecna and his minions. By the Upside Down.

It was the bite scars that caught your eyes first. Maybe because you had felt the ephemeral echo of the assault for yourself, maybe because they were wide swaths of mangled flesh. Layers and layers and wrinkles and valleys. A piece of his torso practically gouged out on one side, his pectoral muscle shredded on the other, nipple missing.

When he had been attacked, he had been Eddie; when the attack was over he was just...meat. And this was the evidence of that. Some parts had healed to silver or pink, both others were left angry and red. If you didn't know better, you might think he was still hurt; that they were still bleeding.

He had kissed your scars and apologized; he was truly the one who deserved the apology.

The seams were next. Down his limbs, at each of his joints; like he'd been ripped apart and put back together again. Strange lines that carved into him like a dissection. Vivisection, if the screams that you'd heard through his memories were true. There were two prominent ones along his ribs that looked...particularly vulnerable. Then again, it could have been because he bulged strangely there.

He didn't look like your Eddie anymore. Maybe it was because he wasn't.

Well, he was...all of him was. All of him...belonged to your heart. Or, more accurately, your heart belonged to all of him. Been through Hell, and survived.

You'd always thought--and you'd told him once and he'd laughed in your face--that he looked like one of the statues that you loved at your favorite cemetery back home. Carefully carved through time and patience, flaws intentional, but made to be witnessed and celebrated and have people kneel before them.

Yes he made a cocksucking joke.

Now though...he was like stained glass in the chapel. Overall whole, one beautiful piece of art that was made to let the resplendent light shine through. But so obviously complex, evidenced by the thousands of little pieces that made it up. Each one so important to the greater whole.

Different, but still beautiful.

Eddie finally noticed the state of you and he paused; you could feel the waves of doubt come off him as he looked down at himself in shame.

"I'm sorry, I should have wa--"

"No," you closed the distance between you. "Stop. It's...I just...I..."

"It's horrible," he told you. "And there's so much more that you...that you don't know."

"It isn't horrible," you replied. "We have plenty of time; all the time in the world. I'll find out the rest eventually, Eddie. But no matter what...I love you."

His eyes shifted between yours, that unsettling red tinge still there but made less intense by his feast; you knew he was looking to see if you were lying to him.

You hoped he knew that you could never lie to him. Especially about something like that.

If there was something that didn't change about Eddie, it was his smile. Sure his teeth might have been comprised of fangs, and his cheeks stretched in a slightly tense way...but the way his eyes crinkled, the way--even in the darkness--he seemed to light up from the inside. That would always stay the same.

You pulled him to you and kissed him again, soft and full of intense devotion. His hands found you and he guided you back down to the mattress, sweeping away the extra blankets and pillows and remnants of previous carnage, and he settled onto you.

Into you.

He guided himself to your center and with one last glance to make sure you wanted this--you always would, always--he slid into you, and found himself where he truly belonged.

Home. With you.

One hand held him above you and the other roamed, caressing over the slopes and curves of your body, running over your cheek and over your heart for a moment, until it settled at the crux where your bodies met. Your hands searched him as well, determined to commit all of his scars to memory--if not tonight, then one day--when they finally landed on a set of scars along his shoulder blades. Thick and deep, he closed his eyes and you could feel his body twitch with pleasure as you lavished them with attention, your delicate touch dancing over the raised skin.

His pace quickened and he grit his teeth; his fingers danced over your clit to carry you to the peaks of pleasure, caressing your cunt worshipfully as you caressed him within.

As you accepted him--all of him--over and over.

It was a marathon that tested your stamina and willpower but neither of you would let up or stop; you needed this. You both needed this, together; finally with each other.

You could feel it rising within you, your limbs tingled and you began to see stars. You refused to close your eyes, even as Eddie got desperate and ducked his head into your shoulder, hips stuttering as they chased his release, fingers relentless as they chased yours.

You couldn't blame him when he bit your throat, when his fangs slid through the already-abused flesh as you inevitably came. You couldn't be too sure that you didn't pull him into you yourself. The bite, the sting, and the pull of your blood took your rapture to an intensity you'd never experienced before.

You saw the strings of fate, floating around him in that moment, connecting him to you; sparkling lines that shifted and tangled over his skin and onto yours. It was blinding and brilliant, and it made you finally close your eyes to bask in it all.

There was some old story, that humans used to have 4 arms, 4 legs and two heads. And some God thought them too powerful, so They demanded them split for the rest of eternity; those humans spent the rest of their days searching...searching for their other half until they could be one again.

And as Eddie's hips stuttered into yours, as he lost his stamina and finally spilled his release inside of you, as he finally made you his--fully and completely for the first time in what felt like an eternity--that search was finally complete.

“I love you. Even if the Fates unraveled our destiny, I would find a way back to you.”  - Scarlett St. Clair, A Touch of Ruin

Next Chapter: Revelation