#Kas Eddie Munson Fic

[courtingchaos]

Death and Affection

Kas/Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Series Master List

A/N: Oh dang, a part three? Chapter 3? What are my conventions around here for this? It’s literally whatever at this point. The story has some meat on its bones now. I’m excited.

18+ NSFW No Minors

“My parents are moving.”

“How’d you find out?”

“Last night.” You look at him over your shoulder. “I snuck into the backyard.”

“That was stupid.”

“I know.”

There’s no heat in his words because you could say the same to him and his weekly wanderings out to the Henderson abode. A watchful eye on his Uncle being shown hospitality and the opportunity to hear all about his nephews exploits through Dustin.

In fact it was him telling you this secret one morning while the sun crept across the sky that gave you the idea to check in. Nearly three months of living in ruins with Eddie and you’d managed to stay away, to give your parents time to mourn. Apparently that wasn’t an option while still living in Hawkins though and you’d caught the conversation through an open window while they spoke to an agent and filled out paperwork.

They were moving clear to Michigan, somewhere on a lake and with a check stamped by these faceless officials. They could move on in the quiet solitude of a pier off of an A frame and the buzzing woods around them.

“I don’t think they’re taking anything with them.” Both of you traipse through the bare underbrush on another hunt for a tear in the earth. Bellies full for the night off of a ten pointer that you’d joked your father would have raged over you bagging.

“Your parents?”

“Yeah, clean break. It’s what the agent said.” You shove your hands into your coat pockets, new clothes that you’d stolen out of abandoned homes for the two of you. The look on Eddie’s face had been priceless when you’d handed over a bundle and he said the thought had never crossed his mind. “I was thinking, which I already know what you’re gonna say, but maybe we could hide out there sometimes.”

“In a neighborhood.” He says, not speeding up to be level with you. You’ve become attuned to his moods now, that tether between you two an almost corporeal thing. You can feel his irritation at your suggestion but that means he can feel yours at the idea of a continued existence in the boathouse.

“We wouldn’t have to sleep under a tarp anymore.”

“I wouldn’t call it sleep.”

“If they leave my stuff we can sleep in my bed and if you’re that attached to it we can bring the tarp along.” You shoot him a placating grin and feel that new feeling slither down your back. It’s a small undercurrent that you’ve noticed recently and it feels like how you’d felt on first dates. A nervousness that dances along your shoulders and makes the hairs on your neck stand up. The connection goes both ways so it’s one of those ‘you know that he knows’ things. He stamps it down as soon as it surfaces most days but tonight it seems to linger with you like the scent of blood still stuck in your nose.

“What if the neighbors see us?”

“We’ll be careful.”

“I don’t like it.”

You stop abruptly and turn to face him. “Please Eddie.”

He’s grumbling on the back of his sigh and almost unwilling to meet your eyes. “When they leave we can go check it out.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not saying we can stay.” He’s trying to be stern but your smile throws him off a bit.

“I know.” A warmth between you, a peace offering he extends to keep you happy. The moment only last for a beat before he starts walking again.

“We still gotta cover this stretch, I saw one of those dogs the other night out here.”

Whatever sleep it is that you fall into during daybreak is fitful. Red cracked skies and a swirling black mass storm through your dreams and wake you with a jolt, Eddie already alert and watching. You tell him what you’ve seen like you always do and he files it away for later. It concerns him, especially when he falls into that other space. Any mentions of that towering hand makes those black eyes turn to slits, a hiss on the back of his tongue directed at you.

You’ve been lucky so far with no more incidents like that last time. No more feral feeding off of innocents in the woods and tearing at Eddie for blood. You can barely grasp onto the memory of it just the feelings of rage and his skin under your tongue, fresh human blood and how soft the ridge of his lip was.

Another night of fruitless search but Eddie swears he can feel the bats closer now. Says it feels like the earth is ready to shake apart further and unleash hell.

“If we find an opening, are we going in?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

He doesn’t try to comfort you even though you don’t think you really would need it. It’s more an empty feeling of acceptance. A new thing on top of the blood drinking that you need to do and that’s apparently walking through the earth into a blackened dimension full of monsters that haunt your twilights of sleep.

Another walk through the woods, this time with you trailing behind him silently. Lost in your own thoughts you don’t pay attention to that tug at the back of your brain that tells you he’s trying to say something without opening his mouth. Studiously staring at the ground and his feet, stepping where he steps, and paying no mind to him trying to will your attention upwards at the fence line.

What would a fall through the ground even feel like? You think about the vague idea you have about cave diving and try to imagine the way it must feel to have air rushing past you into an abyss of foreign fauna that’s-

“Would you listen to me?”

“What?” You snap your head up at his tone, both chastising and full of laughter.

“I’ve been trying to get you to look.”

Past him looms your darkened previous home, only partially covered in overgrown weeds in the backyard. The sliding door to the backyard has had a single thing thrown through it but everything else seems to be intact. You slide your gaze to Eddie who looks frankly a little too proud of himself but before you can even ask he’s walking again and climbing the fence quietly.

“Are you serious?” You ask when you drop soundlessly into the grass.

“It’s supposed to rain tonight. Thought we could have an intact roof over our heads.” He gives you a smile before pausing at the broken glass, head tilted to listen. It’s quiet except for the distant hum of generators and the occasional car that passes through. Eddie deems it safe with a nod and pulls the door open, motioning you in first.

You think it’s funny that they’ve left up curtains when everything is bare. The kitchen that you walk into is stripped of everything but the eyelet lace curtains your mother made. Through the doorway that leads into the living room you see that they left the couch your father always hated but definitely took the tv and the stereo system along with the recliners. Again the curtains hang still in the windows to give the illusion of some kind of life, however faded and haunted it may be. It almost makes you laugh while you step silently through the house, a pantomime of a ghost but not really.

You breathe in the stagnant air. You stand on the carpeting your father had installed last year. You look at the sun bleached corners of picture frames seared into the walls. You taste the melancholy of a family only partially disappeared from their home.

“You okay?” Eddie asks from the doorway, jacket folded over his arm while he looks at those same bleached and blank spaces.

“Surprisingly?” You turn to face him, a small smile on your lips. “Yeah. I’m sad for them.”

Eddie nods and you know he understands. Can feel it through the tether and knows what it means to watch family from afar move on. You inspect the front hall closet and find an old winter coat of yours. In the background you hear Eddie twist the tap on the sink and the sudden rushing of water.

“Did they leave that on?” You round the corner into the kitchen amazed that utilities exist here.

“Maybe they’re trying to sell it?” He shrugs.

“To who, your friend Henry?”

He laughs at that, his fingers hovering over the switch on the vent above the stove like he wants to try the lights. For a moment you think he might but he pulls his hand away and shakes his head at you. “Last thing we need is a kid thinking this place is haunted.”

“I mean, it kind of is, isn’t it?” A joke as you turn the corner to head up the stairs but Eddie just shoots you look. He doesn’t follow immediately, you can hear him moving around in the basement, so you check the bedrooms. Parent’s room also stripped of everything but the curtains, the en suite bathroom a stark powder blue even in the little bit of moonlight that streams in. The spare room that held your mother’s crafts is empty save for a desk and lastly your door. It’s closed against the night in the hallway that also bears scars of years of family pictures hung there. This wooden door with its scuff marks along the bottom from you kicking it open gives you pause though. The grief you feel for your parents grief is momentarily gone and replaced with your hesitance to see.

What did they take of you with them? Did they take you or did they take the facsimile of you? The pieces they approved of and nothing of the rest. The turning of the doorknob scrapes loudly in your ears, almost like you’re opening a tomb for the first time in a millennia. The door swings out of your grip slowly to bump into the wallpaper where it always has, the lock on the inside bumping directly center on the purple blooming flower wallpaper behind it.

The furniture remains. A bedroom set bought for you when you’d turned 16 and still thought you’d have your life together after high school. Pink accents on cream colored wood; a dresser, a floor length mirror, a nightstand and a four poster bed. A hamper that sits empty and your shoes still lined up next to it. Clothes in the dresser and bedding on the mattress but you are gone.

Pictures you’d taped to your mirror and pinned to a cork board have been plucked from their homes. Your old clarinet case gone along with the stack of books you’d had on your nightstand. The scrunchies you’d left stacked on one poster of your bed have been stolen and the stuffed leopard you’d had since infancy taken away with your trace. An empty room full of wood and cotton like someone might come home at any moment and flop on the bed. Kick their shoes at their hamper and take their hair down just to roll over and switch on their lamp.

The shudder in your chest coincides with Eddie’s appearance at the top of the stairs but maybe it isn’t a coincidence. He glides into your room and throws his jacket on your bed and wordlessly moves into your space to pull your forehead into his.

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t think it’d matter.”

“I know.”

“It’s just stuff.”

“When Wayne went through everything in the trailer he only took the important things.” His voice drops to a hush like a secret between you two in your childhood room. “He only took the things that felt right.” He raises a hand to the back of your neck, a grounding touch that keeps you anchored not only to the present but to him. His skin is hot against yours with new blood running through you both and you have an inkling this might be where your rush of emotion is coming from.

“I’m just happy they saw me.” That’s what breaks the dam and the tears stream silently to drip off your cheeks. He brushes at them with his knuckles but doesn’t say anything. Stays still and keeps your head pressed to his to until your sniffles begin to lessen and your deep breaths steady you.

“Good news for the night.” He smiles at you. “There’s running water.”

“That is good news.”

“You can finally rinse the lake out of your hair.” His finger gets caught in a tangle as he runs in through your strands and your laughter breaks the sadness.

“You could too.”

“What if I like smelling like a midnight swim? Ever think of that?” Color sits high on his cheeks before he turns away from you and throws himself on your bed. “Oh my god this shit is comfortable.” He moans into the bedding and you laugh harder at him. You’ve been granted a peek behind that dense curtain a lot more recently. His humor is wholly him, his reactions full of grandeur and flourish, and not for the first or last time do you wish you could have known him outside of all of this.

“You like it?” You ask while pulling off dirty clothes. “It’s an old mattress.”

Eddie flips over and makes himself comfortable. Kicks off his shoes and folds his hands under his head, eyebrows raised up his forehead. “Oh so it’s got some miles on it. I get it.”

“Uh, not like that.” You’re left standing in underwear that you wish, and then suddenly realize, you could wash. You tell him as much and his face lights up while he furiously works at his jeans and toes his socks off.

“Throw it all in a pile, I’ll take it down after my shower.” You say over your shoulder and make your way across the hallway to the bathroom to find out what else was left. In the linen closet is all the undesirables, frayed sheets and thin towels pocked with holes, but it’s better than nothing. Funny enough there’s no curtain left for the tub but a dried out bar of ivory soap sits in the shower and you don’t know if you’ve seen anything half as beautiful. When you turn the knob the water spits from the shower head at a pitiful rate but you watch it fall like a natural wonder before you finally decide to get in. Tepid temperature that you can’t fix but the way it hits your scalp and runs down your back makes you moan from the ecstasy of it all.

You get lost in the rushing water and the smell of powdery soap that you lather through your hair against your better judgement.

Beggars can’t be choosers. Your mother says in the back of your mind while another strand pulls faintly in your haze. It’s that red rope that moors you to Eddie being reeled in with short tugs. He isn’t grasping for your attention or calling you to him, it almost feels like those moments of desire he tries to keep to himself but this feels unintentional.

You run your fingers through your hair to help squeeze out the soapy water and you can feel a third set of fingers running solid down the back of your neck. There’s nothing there but you can feel the drag of a thick finger along your spine between your shoulder blades and down until it hits your lower back. Gone like it wasn’t ever there until you feel it press into the soft part under your jaw, right against your juglar. Another drag of this invisible digit and another tug of that tether before you begin putting it all together. If you strain to listen through the running water and the closed doors you can hear Eddie moving around. A shuffle on top of your comforter followed by a shallow whisper, sounds of skin moving along skin and another invisible hand splays along the back of your thigh and runs up slow.

Does he know he can do this? In your confusion you stand still in the bare shower with the water beating over your shoulders. His imagined hand roves down to glide over the back of your knee and it coincides with a sharp breath from behind two doors.

There’s been a closeness since that first night in the alleyway. The way he’d held you to himself and fed you from himself had continued into the care he’d taken to make sure you slept soundly. Always shoulder to shoulder with his head tucked into you. Small glancing touches to direct you and a finger pressed to your lips to silence you when people got too close to the waters edge. As the bond formed underneath the care you’d panicked and worried he’d find your fondness for him; recoil from it. Instead you’d found his own feelings and those had since tripled after your little mistake in the woods.

A graze of a tongue tracing your lips pulls you from your daze and your fingertips light over the fading feeling. Ghostly touches in your hair and down your sternum leave you with a deep wanting. Are these the places his eyes linger or where he longs to touch?

Invisible fingers trail over your navel, light touch that skips the lower it goes. Hesitance where before there was defined curiosity, especially when you turn the water off suddenly. The bathroom is dark but you could still see your reflection if you’d just look up. Maybe you’d catch an after image of him standing behind you. Could he see you then? Clearer than the thoughts he races through? That tentative touch suddenly disappears just before they venture to the point of no return and like a snap you find your senses again.

With a towel wrapped tightly around your chest you open the door and grab the pile of laundry left on the landing. For a moment you linger and contemplate inching your bedroom door open but you’re still not sure if he even meant for you to know. All the way down to the basement where you walk and wait on cold concrete while the washer fills, only the dusty dregs of detergent left for you to get your clothes to a semblance of clean. When you tire of pacing you perch on the dryer until the buzzer sounds and you start your worrying all over again. The what ifs.

He’d said that night at the lake that he didn’t know the end of you or him. If there was a reversal or if you’d drop dead with all the other monsters. You chew on a nail while you fret three floors down in the earth, a fitting place for you now. Those dogs he’d found in the woods had been extraordinary with their petaled faces and chittering but you still worried. Would you become like them? Would that black shadow creep into your life and split your face, pulling your limbs to new lengths just to hunt better?

This time when the buzzer goes off you jump. It’s just the small arm full of clothes but you make the act of unloading the dryer last longer than it should. You begin picturing Eddie’s face split into a blossoming grin full of teeth but a heavy shudder runs through you, instead pivoting to picturing Eddie in your room. That gives you a shallow feeling in the pit of your stomach almost like hunger with those ghostly touches sitting along your skin like a sheen of sweat, raising goosebumps along your bared skin. Above you, two floors up, you can hear movement and finally you bring yourself back to the basement and out of your own head.

Alone time in your room like in the before when you’d get home from work and decompress on the edge of your bed. Freshly showered and changed into old, soft t-shirts and shorts with a similar pile next to you on the bed.

When you’d come up with the laundry Eddie had been in the bathroom with the shower running and you’d taken it as a moment to catch your breath. Slowly folding stiff clothes to sit on your dresser while you thought about him alone in here with the impressions of your former life.

The door opening makes you start, eyes snapping to him moving quietly into your former space in just a towel. You avert your gaze quick but you know he’s caught you with the warmth that pulses off the him in your head.

“Those for me?” He points at the pile next to you and you nod. “I haven’t had pajamas in…months. Well actually years, but that’s because I’m lazy.”

“You’re not lazy.”

“You didn’t know me before all this.” He laughs and snatches the shirt and before he has a chance to drop his towel you turn your back to him. “Oh what, I thought we were past this?” His smile bleeds through his tone. “Since the whole biting thing.”

You turn your chin to catch him in the furthest corner of your eye, a pale thigh covered quickly by his one pair of boxers. “You can still have privacy.”

“Yeah I don’t know how much of that we have.” He shrugs at you when you turn back to face him.

“Did you…” You speak before you fully form your thought. Maybe he had known what he was doing earlier and that sends you down a different path while Eddie waves his hand at you to continue.

“Did I what?”

“Earlier.” You stand and open your closet to dig around for the spare quilt and comforter that’s usually in there, using the task to hide your face. “When I was in the shower.”

Eddie stops fidgeting behind you. His breathing sounds shallower while you dig around the bottom of your closet and clear your throat to speak clearer.

“I’m not upset but I just wanted to know if…if you knew.”

“What happened in the shower?”

“I could feel your…touch.” You speak this into the stack of old blankets you clutch to your chest now, edging along to your bed to keep his eyes off of your face until absolutely necessary. “Like on my neck and-and my leg.” You drop the blankets before facing him again, hands tucked behind your back so he doesn’t see your own nervous habits. He looks through you with an unfocused gaze and a worried crease between his brows. You have that instinct to sooth, to reach a hand out for his forehead and take that notch away. Fingers twitch behind you while you fight the urge and Eddie refocuses on your face with a slow roll of his eyes. His mouth opens before he thinks better of it and clicks his tongue.

“Thought I had a better handle on that.”

“It’s okay.”

“You don’t have to reassure me.”

The swooping in your stomach assures you it isn’t just him you’re trying to placate. “I’m not.” A small step forward to put you closer to him. “Well I’m not just reassuring you.”

His knuckle brushes the underside of your jaw and you almost flinch from the contact, surprised by his boldness.

“I’m sorry for making this weirder.”

“Oh, outside of the blood sucking and the monsters?” You joke and he laughs and that hand still stays under your chin. “It’s okay Eddie.” Your own hand snakes up to grab his. “We’ve got a weird thing going anyways.”

“That’s one way to put it.” His eyes are soft when they dart across your features and you have the deep feeling of home suddenly in your chest.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

In another lifetime he might have made a joke and wiggled his eyebrows down at you while you giggled and slapped his chest for being stupid. It might have been a one off or maybe a few hook ups but it would have been for fun, him following you into your bed. Now though wings beat unendingly in the edges of your perception and all you want is a few hours of peace with your nightly companion.

Wordlessly he grabs for the blankets you unearthed and starts layering them, turning your bed into a fortress of cotton. He does his usual of getting you situated first, holding up the edge of the sheets to gesture you in, making sure you’re tucked up against the wall before he slots himself next to you. With the blankets tucked in around your bodies to ward off the oncoming sunrise he settles down and casts a glance at you, an invitation to move in closer. This morning it’s your head tucked into the crook of his neck, your lips on the sluggish pulse that ticks up when you press fully against him, your arm thrown over his middle while you quickly fall into sleep.

It’s fitful for only a few moments, or maybe a few hours, with that hand reaching for you. Even in your slumber you can feel Eddie under you, an anchor against this predator that searches for you. Every morning you hide in ruins from it but there’s almost a peacefulness that comes when it seems to grasp you finally.

An immersion into rushing cold water that makes you gasp and turns oddly quiet the deeper you go. Black and wet and unending in its pull.

He wakes slowly with a long stretch, relishing the feeling of lying down in a real bed for the first time in a long time. It smells like you when he rolls towards the wall in search of your shoulder, his nose pressed into the pillow for a deep inhale. He’s half aware of his surroundings but he’s sure his hand should have found you by now in the full size bed but he pats along the soft sheets until his knuckles hit wall. Finally peeling an eye open to gaze to his side and you’re gone. The sheets and comforter are still firmly over his head, the nest you two made before turning in still blocking the waning sunset, but your side is barely dented. He lifts a corner of the bedding to stare at the wall and gauge the light, deeming it tolerable enough to get up and look for you.

There’s no water running and he can definitely feel you near but there’s no feedback like normal, just the shape of you in his minds eye like you’d been stamped out around the edges. His feet hit the ground before he fully turns the sheets down in his hunt for you but he’s stalled on the edge of the bed when he sees you sitting in front of the window.

“Hey.” It comes out in an almost whisper, his hesitance to break the still of your evening. You don’t seem to hear him, unmoving in your desk chair, shoulders slumped forward and head tilted downward at the backyard.

“Is someone out there?” Eddie creeps forward slowly to stay as far out of view in case of intruders but he’s stopped when he notices your forearms draped over your lap.

“Can you get me back?”

There’s a chill that runs through him with the creak of your voice. It touches something deep in him, something with black beetle eyes and sharp talons. This voice is from the same place as that other thing that lives in him.

“What?”

“You’re looking for a way in.” Your head turns back towards him slightly and he can make out more of the black lines that mark up your arms on your neck. “I can help you.”

When Eddie had been dying on that foreign soil he’d had many things shown to him. Broken bodies and long shadows, a possessed child and raging man covered in the traces of that swirling black. The monster that dwelt inside him had hissed at those images and fled with Eddie, pulling him topside and eventually to you.

“I don’t want your help.” Him and his alter answer this creature that’s taken your voice and when it hears his disgust you turn to him, eyes black like they shouldn’t be. Veins close to the surface and deep hued where they run up and down your neck.

“You brought me here. You listened to me and you followed my aim and you found her.” Your teeth glint in the dimming light. “You want to find a way in just like I do.”

Eddie watches your fingers grip the seat of the chair, nails digging into the wood like it was dirt. Teeth clenched at him and a scowl directed at his still form.

“Get me back where I belong and I’ll leave her be.” You lean in towards him and he can smell you like you were here hours ago. Still just an outline in his mind and that tether seems to float into nothing now like it was trapped in black water. He panics with nothing of you to grab onto. For months now he’s had you as a constant, even when you were hungry and started to slip but this? This thing had never been present in you, just in your dreams. He thought it hung at the edges like it did in his but he’d been wrong. The creature inside coils in tight like it’s been struck, a hiss that Eddie can’t help but let out slowly as he watches you being puppeted by that towering hand.

Your voice scratches and catches like a swarm of insects and you lean in closer to make your point heard, eyes shining dully up at him. “Help me find Henry and I’ll let her go.”

[ryan-waddell11]

the sluttiest shot in the show

[littlexdeaths]

pushing up daisies - e.m.

kas eddie munson x fem reader

treat me bad like i’m no one's daughter,

body bag, baby, i’m a goner…

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: ANGSTTTTT, mentions of eddie’s death and the upside down, canon divergent (reader is chosen as vecna’s last victim instead of max), established relationship, soft!dom eddie, biting/blood drinking, lil bit of jealous eddie, public sex, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

based on love is a… by pvris

word count: 2.9k

a/n: this is honestly something i am so incredibly proud of, so i hope you all enjoy it. a big thank you to my babes @undead-supernova @strangerstilinski and @lokis-army-77 for helping me with parts of this fic, i love you all so much 💕

The sky was dark, storm clouds rolling in as you trudged through the rusted gates of Hawkin’s memorial cemetery.

Only the booming sounds of thunder and your labored breathing filled the morning air. Rain droplets poured steadily onto your head, dripping down the collar of your rain jacket. The clothing seemingly useless as the heavy rain soaked you to the bone.

The wild daisies clutched in your fist were beginning to wilt as your eyes scanned over the sea of headstones. Your throat tightens once you find his, now wishing that Dustin had been lying to you.

The words BURN IN HELL FREAK were still visible, despite the male’s best effort to clean them off the previous day. It had been less than a week since the funeral, but that was plenty of time for someone to vandalize his headstone. You hated this town.

Reaching the now desecrated grave you sigh, gently running your fingers along the top of the headstone. The rough edges scraped against your fingertips as you knelt down in front of it. Letting your hand fall into your lap, glancing down at the sad excuse of a bouquet in the other.

He deserved more than this… he deserved more than anything this shitty town had to offer.

“Hey Eds,” you whisper, despite the desolation surrounding you.

You carefully set the daisies onto the ground, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill past your waterline. The white of the flowers contrasted sharply against the dirt, which was quickly turning to mud beneath your knees. But you didn’t mind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the funeral,” guilt laces your shaky voice as you tug your lower lip between your teeth. “I just… I couldn’t see you like that.”

Despite the feeble attempts that Dustin and Robin made to coax you out of bed that day, nothing was going to change your mind. You didn’t want to remember him that way, as you were already grappling with the image of him dying in Dustin’s arms.

A memory that haunts your dreams every night.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you mumble, reaching into your pocket to pull out his lucky set of dice. A sad smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you begin to place them along his headstone, “I brought a peace offering.”

A loud crack has your eyes flicking up, body jolting in surprise as a bolt of lightning strikes a tree in the distance. The impact splits the trunk down the middle, the wind picking up speed and taking your flowers with it.

The torn petals spread across the unkempt ground, the gesture now ruined. Just like everything else you touched.

You blame yourself for his death, knowing he would still be here if Vecna hadn't chosen you. You would live through a thousand years in a prison of your own mind, let that monster drain you of your entire existence— if it meant Eddie would have lived.

“It’s all my fault,” you don’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, staring intently at the stone in front of you.

Edward Lee Munson, now at peace.

Those bold words stare back at you, mirroring the stone that sat just a few feet besides his. One you had become very familiar with over the years.

Elizabeth Ann Munson.

Beloved wife and mother, may she rest in peace.

While hers were more faded, they still brought you a small sense of comfort. Knowing that Eddie was with her now, he was safe. But that comfort wouldn’t heal the hole that had been punched through your chest.

“I miss you,” you hiccup, your tears steadily flowing now, the moisture beginning to blur your vision. “It w-wasn’t supposed to b-be you.”

Your soft cries soon morphed into pained sobbing, your shoulders hunched over as you dug your fists into the earth. You were grateful that Steve had let you come alone, not wanting anyone to see you like this.

In the short time that Eddie had been gone, you felt suffocated. With Vecna still alive and plotting, you were constantly being watched. Your friends not knowing if the demon, creature, whatever he was— would come back to claim you for good.

Part of you hoped for it, mentally pleaded to be taken away too. Because a life without Eddie, wasn’t a life you wanted to live.

A loud scream pierces the air, and it takes you a moment to realize the sound has come from you. Your chest heaves from the force of it, allowing your head to tilt back as your eyes slip shut. Enjoying how the rain soaks into your pores, washing away any trace of your tears.

You sit like that for a while, as the storm continues to wage on around you. Silently wishing that the rain would wash you away too. Dirt is caked under your fingernails, mud coated your shins and the hem of your skirt. You knew you couldn’t sit out here much longer, as your teeth started to chatter from the cold.

Your head falls forward, allowing yourself one last look at his headstone. The red paint has stained it horribly, tainting the last thing he had left in this world.

“I’ll come back tomorrow and clean this shit up, I promise.” You say, lifting up your pinky towards the block of stone. You hold it there for a moment before your hand falls back to your side.

“I love you, Eddie,” you sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you start to stand. Turning around as you begin to wipe the dirt from your knees.

As you take a step forward your shoe begins to sink into the wet soil, almost swallowing your foot whole. An annoyed huff leaves your lips as you try to pull it back out. But any attempt is stopped short as a cold hand wraps around your other ankle. A deep groan echoes in your ears as your eyes widen in fear.

This was it… Vecna’s come back for you.

While everything inside you begs you to run, your body remains frozen. Hyperventilating as the ground beneath you begins to shift, your feet sinking in deeper as another body fights its way out from the earth. A strained grunt of your name snaps you out of your petrified state, recognizing the voice immediately.

This was a cruel joke, knowing he was taking on Eddie’s form just to hurt you more. So you decided you wouldn’t stick around to witness it.

If you were going to die, it would be by his own hands.

“No!” You shout, yanking your ankle out of that icy grip as you make a break for it.

You don’t make it very far though, only reaching the edge of his grave before you lose your footing. The tip of your shoe catches on a tree root, sending your body tumbling forward onto the wet ground. The impact knocks the wind out of you as you struggle to take a breath in. Your nails dig into the grass for purchase as you try to crawl away.

The feeling of two hands wrapping around each ankle has you screaming, thrashing about as you're dragged back towards the grave. The male flips you around, unable to hear his broken pleas over the sound of your own shrieks. You keep your eyes focused on the storm clouds above your heads, desperate for some kind of distraction. You wouldn’t look at him, you couldn’t.

This wasn’t your Eddie.

A dirty hand grips onto your chin, tilting your head down as he wedges his body between your thighs. Forcing you to face him, his dark eyes ablaze with fury— a sharp contrast to the way he gently cradles your jaw.

“I’m not in the mood for games… just get on with it,” you snap, letting your eyes slip shut as you wait for that familiar pain to shoot up your spine and through your skull.

But nothing happens.

You crack an eye open only to find the brunette staring back down at you, confusion coating his features.

“… get on with what, sweetheart?” His voice cracks, the look on his face mirroring his tone.

“Killing me,” you state, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

There’s a moment of silence between you before he starts laughing, the booming sound instantly melts your insides. It was something you thought you would never hear again.

“I guess my entrance was very Night of the Living Dead, huh?” He teases with a wide grin as his head dips lower— his drenched curls sticking to your cheek.

When you feel Eddie’s lips connect with the base of your throat, your breath hitches. Heat pools in your middle as he inhales, groaning deeply. The sound vibrates against your skin, sending shockwaves through your system.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he hums, his hands running down the length of your sides. The male grips onto the soaked fabric of your dress, slowly inching it up until his palms are splayed across the tops of your thighs.

“You’re so warm,” he continues, his nose grazing along your collarbone as you grip onto the shoulders of his oversized suit jacket.

“H-How are you here?” You question with a small whine as he lightly nips at your throat, chuckling deeply.

“You brought me here, sweetheart.” His words are spoken reassuringly, but they don’t offer you any comfort.

“So, this is a dream,” there’s no question in your voice, only a trace of melancholy.

But Eddie notices it immediately, his head lifting from the crook of your neck. His dark eyes met yours for a moment, a look of determination flashing through his irises.

“Does this feel like a dream to you, baby?”

Before you can reply, his lips brush against yours. Any worries that this wasn’t real melt away with each press of his mouth on yours. Silencing the fear that this will all disappear the moment you pull apart. The storm rages on as he kisses you with an electricity that rivals the lightning above you.

“Definitely not a dream,” you mumble, earning a soft chuckle from him.

You swallow the sound as you kiss him deeper, his ringed fingers gliding further up your thighs and under your dress. Your own slip underneath the collar of his jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. Letting the rain soak into his white dress shirt, the fabric clinging to the muscles in his back.

Your hands quickly rake through his hair, tugging on the drenched curls as his mouth trails along your jaw. Continuing lower as he sucks harshly on your skin, enjoying the way your body responds to each press of his lips. A breathy whine spills past your own as his fingers reach the elastic band of your panties.

The tension between you continues to mount as you eagerly drag his mouth back to yours. Eddie’s fingers curl under the waistband, snapping the lace against your skin. You barely register the tearing of that same fabric, too preoccupied with his lips on yours. The clinking of his belt soon follows, aiding him in pushing his slacks down his thighs.

“Please,” you plead, lifting your hips against his. Not wanting to waste another second to have him buried inside you.

The brunette gently shushes you, pulling back for a moment as he rubs the tip of cock through your drenched folds. His pupils dilate as he takes in the way your lips part under his thumb. A shaky breath escapes them as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he coos, caressing your cheek as he guides his hips forward. Slowly slipping into your awaiting heat with a strangled groan, “I’ll take care of you.”

His actions are gentle, as your bodies become reacquainted with each other. Eddie guides your hands above your head, fingers lacing together in the dirt. Your thighs are snug around his hips, desperate to keep him as close as humanly possible.

He rocks his hips into yours at a deep but leisurely pace, letting him savor every moment he spends inside you. As neither of you know what will happen after this is all over, it’s not something you want to think about.

Being here, in this moment, with him is the only thing that mattered to you.

The ferocity of the storm drowns out the cries that leave your lips, much different from the agonized ones you had let out earlier. Everything feels heightened, pleasure coursing through your veins with each stroke of his cock.

There’s a sudden shift in his demeanor as his eyes glaze over with an almost dangerous glint. Similar to that of a predator who had locked eyes on his prey. Your heart rate increases as a deep growl permeates the air. His fingers slip out of yours, instead digging into the soil beside you as his body goes rigid.

The brown of his irises disappear from view as he squeezes them shut, worry beginning to fill your chest. Your hands reach up to cradle his face, feeling how tightly his jaw was clenched underneath your fingertips.

“Eds,” you call softly, but the male remains frozen above you— a statue of Adonis.

He was losing control, ready to slip through your fingers. But you had already lost him once, and you weren't about to let it happen again.

“Stay with me,” you implore, softly pressing your lips against the furrow between his eyes. Brushing the dirt from his cheeks as you continue to trail tender kisses across his face.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally speaks as your lips hover over his, your breath mingling together.

“You won’t,” you promise as your nose nudges against his.

Eddie seems reluctant as he opens his eyes, crimson beginning to bleed into his irises. “But there’s something different…” he trails off, searching for any trace of fear reflecting in your eyes. “I’m different.”

“I don’t care,” you don’t miss a beat, capturing his lips with yours once more.

He moans into your mouth, hands encircling your waist as you lift your hips, encouraging him to thrust deeper inside you. Your tongue slips past his lips, gliding along his front teeth. Coming to a sudden realization as you feel the pointed edge of his canines.

Logically you should feel frightened, but it seems to have the opposite effect on you. Your kisses become frantic as your walls flutter around his shaft, the sensation causing him to moan out your name. The pace of his hips quickens as your nails dig into the drenched dress shirt covering his back.

Your lips separate as you gasp, his cock hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. The both of you falling closer to that precipice with each thrust of his hips. But it’s not quite enough, needing to connect with him on a new level.

Eddie peers down at you in awe as your head falls back, baring your throat to him. “Do it,” you insist, guiding his mouth towards your neck.

You can sense his hesitation, his lips ghosting over your skin instead.

“Please, Eddie,” you beg, his groan vibrating against your throat. “I want you to.”

The sincerity in your tone squashes any doubts still lingering in his head. Allowing his teeth to graze against your tender flesh, testing his resolve.

“I trust you,” is what he needs to hear before he sinks his teeth into your neck.

Your body arches into his chest, trembling as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you— pulling you under completely. Eddie drinks from you greedily, continuing to work you through your high as his own steadily approaches.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he moans as his teeth detach themselves from your throat.

His tongue darts out, lapping up the blood that begins to trickle down the curve of your neck. The sight of his mark on you is almost enough to send him over the edge. But your pretty whines are the final nail in his coffin, hips stuttering as he fills you with his warmth.

“I love you.”

Those three little words are whispered against your collarbone as the male collapses onto you. A content smile spreads across your face as your fingers card themselves through his curls. The both of you soaking up this moment of bliss for as long as you can.

The rain above your heads has finally slowed to a drizzle, the pitter patter of the droplets matching your heartbeat. You don’t know how long you laid there like this, bodies intertwined on his grave.

But it didn’t matter, as long as it was him you were entangled with.

“I love you too,” you reply a while later, the male humming as he lifts his face from the crook of your neck, crimson smeared across his lips.

A fond look falls over his features as he leans down to kiss you again, the metallic taste of you lingering on his mouth. A thought suddenly occurs to you, causing you to giggle against his lips.

“What’s so funny, sweetness?” He muses, pulling away from you with a raised brow. You tuck a loose curl behind his ear, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Just trying to think of how to explain this to Steve.” You watch in amusement as a scowl appears on his face.

“Poor thing is gonna think I was mauled by a wild animal,” you tease, gesturing to the bite mark on your neck.

You see a flash of jealousy in his eyes, a low growl rumbles through his chest as his lips reattach themselves to your throat— causing you to squeal.

“Harrington’s just gonna have to deal with it,” he answered smugly, hugging your body closer to his.

The both of you completely unaware of the looming figure watching you from the tree line.

tagging some lovelies: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @nailbatanddungeon @vecslut @likedovesinthewnd @lofaewrites

[kas-eddie-munson]

whelp, there's a part two now

Part 1

~~~

Eddie always loved Halloween.  He liked dressing up and putting on a persona, pretending to be someone else for a while.

He wasn’t expecting to have fun this year, but there was that twinge of hope again.  Henderson and his friends decided they were too old to trick-or-treat, so them and some of the older teens were meeting up at Steve’s house for a party.

Honestly anything to get him out of the house had to be better than nothing, right?

Steve told Eddie he’d pick him up at 6:30, which he did.  He explained in the car that the kids might get there early, and that Robin was guarding the snacks so they wouldn’t all get devoured before half the guests arrived.

Eddie watched Steve as he drove.  Tried to get a read on him.  Tapped his knuckles against the window, a habit he’d been told by multiple people was irritating over the years.  No response.  Bounced his leg a bit so his boot would tap against the floor.

Steve glanced over at a stop sign.

“You okay?”

Eddie stopped moving his leg and told him he was fine.

Eddie wondered whether he heard or saw him moving.  Noted the way Steve looked directly at him while he spoke.

He wasn’t sure why Steve didn’t say anything about it.  He didn’t have a lot of time to inspect Steve’s appointment summary the other day.  Didn’t spot a date.  It had to be pretty recent, though.  He supposed it’s not like they were super close.

Parked outside his house, Steve got out and brought Eddie his chair, leading the way down a sidewalk to his back patio.  The sliding back door was nearly level with the ground, though Eddie still had to move his chair over the bump backwards.

Once inside it was clear the party had already started.  Loud music blasted and all the kids talked over each other.  Dustin called out for him from across the room and soon Eddie was surrounded by the kids, telling him they were glad he made it to the party.  If he was alone he might have cried.

It took a minute for the kids to realize he was trying to move further into the house, but eventually they moved over, and he found the table with food on it.

On the way back he lingered in the doorway as Steve stood off to the side, eyebrows furrowed.  He asked a couple questions about the conversation that were lost to the teens talking over each other, if someone could repeat that or if he heard a word correctly.  His hand clenched around his drink.

Maybe Eddie wasn’t the only one who felt alone in a room full of people.

Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6

[obligatedart]

Steve and Eddie stumbled into the store and found their way into the back room where the staff had some lockers, a small kitchen with chairs and a table, and a small brown leather couch.

Eddie held back a bit as Steve beelined towards the couch and sunk down on the cushions. When the ringing in his ears subsided after a minute or two, Steve could hear it exchanged for a loud silence that filled the room like a stormcloud that weight down the sky.

“What?” He said, looking up at Eddie, still standing in the doorway.

“Steve… You’re bleeding�� A lot”

“Oh. Right”

There was something animalistic in the way that Eddie held himself. In the way his gaze fell darkly over Steve. Ever since they got Eddie back, he had not been quite himself. His period in the upside-down had changed him. The kids called him a vampire, even if that was not quite the whole truth. The sun didn’t hurt him, his eyes did not turn red, his reflection was still there, albeit now paler, sharper, more wild. Always present though, was the hunger. Eddie licked his lips unconsciously and took a small step towards Steve.

“Steve, god, this is going to sound so stupid man… but, I could really use some blood right now, and you’re—”

Steve frowned and turned his head to catch his own reflection in a mirror hanging beside the kitchen table.

He was absolutely drenched in blood. He did not know where his own started and where other’s ended, but it glistened and ran over his face, it was caking and drying in his hairline, it was oozing from the wounds on his arms, and it trickled slowly over his chin and down over his neck and collarbones.

“-- if I could just, have a little taste Steve, I’ll recover much more quickly. I’ll be much stronger. More capable”

Steve eyed Eddie apprehensively. Eddie had never asked to drink the blood of any person so far. He’d gotten his fill from animals and the slithering creatures they fought, and Steve had no wish to be the first experiment.

“What the hell Munson. No! I’m not letting you bite me!” Steve tried to cross his arms in a dismissive display, but winced as the wounds on his arms burned as the taunt skin was twisted over tired bones.

“Ah come on! I wouldn’t bite you!” Eddie said, walking over and dropping down next to Steve. The springs in the couch creaked in displeasure that mimicked Steve’s.

“How would you drink my blood without biting me?”

“How do you drink wine from an open bottle?”

“...What?”

“I’m saying - you’re already opened up, Harrington. You’ve got blood all over you, and it’s a shame to let it go to waste if it’s already flowing.”

___________

More over on the archive! ”Not a Single Drop Wasted”

[inklessletter]

Your art is SO PRETTY!!!!!

Thank you anon, so are you!!

--

Ok, a little explanation here: someone requested me a Kas Eddie, but I accidentally deleted the ask, so I'm using this thoughtful comment from anon here to give you what you requested! Please consider yourself tagged (or DM me so I can edit this and tag you!) [@izzy2210 they appeared!] And the thing is, I immediately thought of @azrielgreen's You're Divine. This fic broke me, her writing is amazing, so full of feeling, soul shattering, and the story... honestly, one of the best I've read. I really hope I captured the daylight that Little Bit so tirelessly makes in Steve's heart.

[etherealxwitch]

Blood Sport

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: No matter how fast you run or how good you hide, Eddie will always find you and claim you as his prize.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), kas/vamp!eddie, reader being hunted, cnc, eddie calling reader bunny, pet names, name calling, blood, blood consumption, lord of biting, teasing, begging, mocking, spanking, face and pussy slapping, oral (f and m receiving), ball play, rimming (f receiving), fingering, panties used as gag, overstimulation, slight orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampie

WC: 5.5K

(i hope y’all enjoy this wild ride!)

REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND SUPPORT THE AUTHOR!

Your bare feet mushed into the muddy ground below you, adrenaline shooting through you and taking full control of your body. You had no clue where you were going, just anywhere to get away from him.

He had whispered the word run in your ears, and you took off and never looked back like your life had depended on it. Soon enough, he’ll be after you, tracking you like some wild animal.

The forest may have been huge, but at this moment, it’s never felt so small. There weren't many places to hide, trees only covering you so much, and no sheds to bunker down in. He would find you eventually, taking you as his prize. Even during the thick night air, he could still see your form running from him. The hunt of it all was the best part, the anticipation of when you would get caught made you run a little slower.

Eddie gave you a head start, even though he always seemed to catch up no matter how far ahead of him you were. You could be seconds or minutes away, and before you knew it, it would be right behind you, taunting you.

You could hear him now, his heavy boots stomping closer and closer to you.

“Come out, come out wherever you are, bunny.” His voice dripped with lust and need. The deepness of his voice had goosebumps forming over your skin, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. If he caught you, the game would be over. You’d be his prize, and he would take you however he wanted, wherever he wanted. “You can’t hide forever, not when I can smell you.” 

And he was right. You were sweaty, sure to have blood scratches from thorn bushes, and soaked from the muggy air. He could smell you no matter how far you got. Your scent always lingered, keeping you close. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, and your lungs burned from running, but you couldn’t stop now. Just a little longer, and you could rest, let your body relax for just a moment.

“Why don’t you be nice and come out to play?” You hid behind a tree, hoping to be out of his view completely. 

You held a hand over your mouth, trying to suppress how noisy your deep breaths of air were. 

The fallen branches from trees crunched under his feet; the moon illuminated his giant shadow. Eddie was close, but you had the chance to get away, to slip out from underneath him.

He came face to face with you, his eyes red and his fangs shining in the moonlight. “Gotcha!” 

You took off running, slipping on the wet ground below you. He had caught you too soon, but you still had a lot of fight left in you. 

“Get back here, bunny!” Eddie’s voice boomed over the window and night animals. You almost stopped dead in your tracks, but you couldn’t give up that easily. 

You ducked behind a bush, looking through the twigs to try and see how close he was to you. Now that you got to rest for a quick minute is when you realize just how much your feet and legs hurt. Your breaths were coming out in fast pants. Maybe you didn’t have as much fight as you thought you did. 

Eddie was nowhere in your line of sight, and you thought that maybe he had taken off in another direction. That was until you felt a hot breath fan over your ear and a deep chuckle. 

“You think you can get away from me that easily?” His big arms wrapped around you, pulling you off from the ground. You wailed, threw punches against his chest, anything to get away though the punches did nothing, didn’t stir him one bit. 

He covered your mouth and slammed the front of you against a tree, the bark pinching and scraping at your face. “Naughty little thing, running from me like that.”

“P-please…” you looked to the side at him, your voice muffled, your eyes big, round, and full of innocence. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

Eddie runs the tip of his nose up the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent more. “Now that I’ve got you in my arms, I can smell just how soaked you really are.” He bunches your dress around your waist, his cold fingers ghosting over the warm skin of your thighs, and pulls your flimsy panties to the side. The crisp night air hits your exposed cunt, sending a shiver down your spine. “Bet my cock would slide so easily into your pretty, little cunt, yeah?”

Your blood was coursing through your veins, and Eddie could hear it. He ran his tongue over his sharp teeth, debating on taking a bite. One small bite couldn’t hurt, could it? 

Without a second thought, Eddie sunk his teeth into your neck. He sucked, just enough to get the smallest test of your sweet, crimson blood. Another small bite here, another small bite there, nothing too serious to hurt you. He let out a long, low groan that vibrated his chest.

Your blood trickled down your neck as you moaned and whimpered. This shouldn’t be feeling as good as it did. Eddie licked up the small amount of blood, making sure to get every last drop, his tongue pressed against your skin. The pain mixed with pleasure made your cunt drip, your thighs becoming stickier than before. 

That didn’t go unnoticed either, Eddie catching on quickly. One of his thick fingers dipped inside your cunt before quickly slipping out. “Just as I thought, you love the pain.”

When you looked at him, you noticed his stained teeth and lips, your blood dripping from them, making them all shiny. 

You whined and closed your eyes, trying to think about anything other than him. Eddie was giving in to what your body needed, what it craved. Your body was betraying you. This isn’t what you wanted, or was it? The smallest touch of his fingers had your pussy clenching around nothing, aching to be filled and pumped full of cum.

“Oh, so you wanna be full of cum?” Eddie’s nails raked up and down your thigh, taking his finger and barely rubbing against your swollen clit.

You gasped, digging your fingers into the tree you were pushed up against. “N-no. I just…” 

“N-No? You sound so pathetic, bunny.” He mocked your whines with a smirk. “Just say you do. There’s no denying just how bad you want me when your cunt is dripping for me.”

You tried to shake your head, but he pressed it more into the tree. “Let me go, please.” Tears welled in your eyes, slowly falling down your cheeks. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry. You know that just makes me wanna fuck you more,” Eddie pressed his body into yours, his hard, clothed cock against your bare ass. You could feel it throb against you, your body instinctively grinding against him. “I’m going to have so much fun with you, and you’re going to take it all.”

Shaking your head, you tried to push away from him, but it was no use. Eddie had super strength; you weren’t going anywhere. You were stuck, and you had to give in and let him do whatever was on his dark mind.

“Yes, sir.” Your voice was weak, strained. 

You watched as he retracted his large hand before coming back down with a hard spank on your ass. Your skin jiggled, your mouth falling agape. “Speak up.” 

“Y-yes! Yes, sir.” 

“Shit, you’re already following rules so easily.” Eddie finally let up, pulling your body away from the tree. He spun you around so that now you were facing his tall form. “On your knees, pretty girl.” 

He didn’t give you time to act, putting his hand on the top of your head and pushing you down. You quickly fell to your knees, the leaves crunching under them. 

With shaky hands, you reached up for his belt, slowly undoing it. Eddie watched you with his dark eyes. Seeing how nervous you were only made him harder, his cock twitching in his jeans.

You ran your hand over the prominent bulge, dragging your nails across it. Eddie took a deep inhale, his chest heaving. It was taking everything out of him not to rush you, but he wanted to take his time with you and let it all linger.

Your hands worked on the zipper and button next. The pounding in your heart was harder, faster. His cock was so close to being down your throat, and your mouth watered for it.

Slowly, you pulled down his pants, taking his boxers with them, just enough for his cock and balls to hang out. His cock sprang forward, tip an angry red and leaking with precum. You watched as he spat into his hand and wrapped it around his cock. The precum kept bubbling out his slit, dribbling down his knuckles as he pumped his cock with his hand, the schlick sound becoming louder.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips.

Eddie grabbed the base of his cock, rubbing the tip along your lips, smearing the precum. “You take too fucking long.” He nudged his cock past your lips, rubbing it along your waiting tongue. 

You whined as he shoved his cock in your mouth, your tongue gliding along the thick vein that rested on the underside. The salty taste of his precum flooded your taste buds. 

“Shh, shh,” he ran a soothing thumb down your cheek before holding your head in place. “You just sit there and look pretty while I fuck your face, okay?”

Before you knew it, his cock was fully seated in your throat, and you were gagging around it, spit blubbering out the corners of your mouth. More tears spilled down your cheeks, coating them in smeared mascara. 

“Fuuuck- such a good mouth, just had to put it to use.” Eddie slowly thrust his hips back and forth, his cock fucking in and out of your mouth. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and get lost in the feeling of the tip gliding across your tongue. “You like this, don’t you? Being used like my own personal fleshlight?”

You tried to answer, opening your mouth wider, but all that came out were whines and gags. Tears kept falling down your cheeks, drool dripping down your cheek. Eddie’s cock was making your throat raw, and you could already feel the burn that would surely linger there for days to come. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was already a bruise forming. 

“What was that?” He guided your head down his cock, your nose now pressed against the small thatch of curls at the base of his cock and his balls wetly pressed against your chin. “Shit- Couldn’t hear you with my cock stuffed down your throat.”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he held you in place, letting his cock drag in and out of your mouth. Your gags and the soft squelch of your throat contracting around him echoed into the night. Nothing would ever feel as good as your pussy, but this was a close second for him. 

Your nails dug into his clothed thigh, inaudibly begging for some air. When Eddie pulled your mouth off his cock, salvia strung from your lips to the tip, mixing perfectly with his precum. 

Eddie ran a hand down your cheeks, wiping away the tears that ran down your face. You looked so pretty when you cried for him, whether it was from all his teasing or his cock being shoved into one of your holes. He loved to see you cry for him.

Deep breaths filled your lungs, and you sighed at the bit of relief you felt. The relief didn’t last long, though. Eddie was guiding your face toward his cum filled balls, dragging them over your lips. 

“Open up for me, baby. J-just like that.” Eddie had to brace a hand against the tree when you took the heavy sack into your warm mouth, rolling your wet tongue over the velvety skin. He could’ve cum right then and there. “You’re doing such a good job for me, yeah? Just a good little slut for me to use.”

You moaned around his balls in appreciation before sucking them into your mouth. Your tongue cradled them as you slobbered, your spit dripping down your chin and onto your chest. 

Pulling back, you let his balls fall from your mouth long enough to spit on them. You reached up and cradled them in your hand for a moment, rolling them around your fingers before you sucked them back into your mouth. The whole time, your eyes never left Eddie’s. You wanted him to see you, watch you. 

“Jesus Christ, look at you.” Eddie took his spit-covered cock in his hand, slowly stroking it over your face. He ground his hips against you, the sensitive tip of his cock rubbing against your forehead, precum bubbling out of the slit and into your hair. “Gonna make me fucking cum all over that pretty face of yours, bunny.”

His balls fell deeper into your mouth, your throat gargling around them. That was the moment that he lost control. 

Eddie pulled your head away and looked down at your swollen lips, tongue out, ready to catch every drop and tear-stained face. He squeezed at the tip of his cock before throwing his head back with a sharp inhale. Cum shot from the slit. His hips stuttered as his hand shook, “shit, shit!”

Your tongue caught what it could, not swallowing until Eddie could see what a good job you did. The rest hit your face, covering your chin and cheeks. 

He slowly looked back down at you, a proud smile on his face. “Swallow. All of it.”

You downed every drop, making a show of it and licking your lips once you were done. 

“Let’s clean you up.” Eddie collected what had fallen on your face with his rough fingers before sliding them into your mouth. You sucked them clean, making sure nothing went to waste. 

“What do you say?” 

“T-thank you, sir.” You shyly looked up at him. You’d do anything to please him.

He shoved his still-hard cock back into its confines before shrugging off his jacket and laying it on the ground beside you. You caught on to what he was wanting and laid down on his jacket, your legs bent at the knees. 

“Don’t even have to tell you what I want anymore,” he lay on the ground, his face right next to your aching cunt. “She’s ready for anything, isn’t she?” 

You felt Eddie slowly drug your panties down your legs. Once they were completely off, you closed your legs back, sitting up on your elbows. “Wait, wait.” 

Eddie jumbled up your panties and reached an arm up to shove them in your mouth. “Sometimes you talk too damn much.” The same arm that shoved the panties in your mouth also shoved you back down to his jacket, forcing you still. 

To take extra measure, he grabbed both of your wrists and held them in his rough, strong hand. He was making sure that you could get away or take your panties out of your mouth. 

You had no protest at all because once your back hit the jacket, Eddie had your legs gripped tightly in his hands, the air from his lungs blowing against your swollen clit.

“Mmm- mmm,” you tried to moan, but the sounds were completely muffled by your panties.

“Just relax,” he bit at your thighs, switching back and forth between them. You could feel the blood trickle down to the ground below you, but not before Eddie was licking it up. He let the blood linger on his tongue, savoring just how good you tasted before swallowing it. “As much as I’d love to drain you dry, I’d much rather keep you alive, so I slowly drink from you.”

All you could do was whine and dig your fingers into the palm of your hands. He had barely touched you, and you were already silently begging for more. Every part of you ached for some kind of friction, a touch, a rub, anything at this point.

Eddie watched as you clenched around nothing, looking for him to touch you. He thought it was cute how much your body wanted him. 

Just as you were about to beg (as much as you could with your panties in your mouth), Eddie licked a long strip up your cunt, from your needy hole to your clit. Your head fell back against his jacket as you let out a deep exhale. 

“Can’t get enough of that taste,” again and again, he licked at your clit, just enough pressure to have you whining. “You want more, huh?”

God, you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs how much you needed more. 

“Oh, that’s right,” he kissed around your clit, smirking against you when you let out a frustrated huff. “You can’t talk.”

Deciding that you had enough teasing for now, Eddie finally wrapped his plump lips around your clit. A deep moan was pulled from you, and your eyes rolled back at the pleasure you were finally able to feel. 

Your nails dig deeper into your hands the more he sucks on your clit, his teeth grazing it, making you arch your back. The palms of your hands were sure to be bright red tomorrow. You wish you could moan louder, let him hear just how he was making you feel, but he knew. Your cunt was soaked, dripping on his jacket below. It was so easy for him to see how good you were feeling. 

“Every part of you tastes so fucking amazing.” Lick, lick, lick. “Your cunt, your ass, your blood.” He used his thumbs to spread your pussy lips apart, licking his lips when your slick strung between them.

Eddie dove back, licking all over your cunt, soaking his face in you. Your muffled moans grew louder with each lick and suck. Somehow, you were already close, and Eddie knew, could feel it in the throb of your clit. That only egged him on more. 

He slid his tongue into your beckoning cunt, making sure to swirl it around. Your chest heaved, and the pounding in your heart felt harder. Eddie moaning against you didn’t help at all—the vibrations making your head spin in the best way. 

Eddie's skilled tongue was making sure you were going to cum on his face, licking deeper than you ever thought possible and fucking in and out of you so fast that you you couldn’t focus on anything. His nose nudged at your clit and it was taking everything out of you not to rip your hands from his and pull on his hair.

Your thighs had started to shake, and he let your hands go. He used both hands to run up the back of the thighs before bending your knees into your chest, giving him more room to do whatever he wanted to your cunt. 

Eddie dipped his tongue lower, circling it around your puckered hole. Your hole clenched around his tongue, wanting him to go deeper. You screamed around your panties as the tip of his tongue dipped inside you over and over again. 

Shaky fingers raked through his hair before pulling, trying to get him as close to you as possible.

Eddie licked back and forth between your cunt and ass before he took your clit back into his mouth and shook his head back and forth. His eyes never left yours, even when your cunt was in your mouth. He wanted to see you come undone on his face. 

One more hard suck at your clit was all it took before you were cumming all over his face. Your cries were muffled, your legs shaking in Eddie’s hand. You couldn’t focus on anything other than your orgasm running through your body, making each hair stand up and your back arch so far off the jacket below you that you could almost reach the night sky. 

“Mmmmph!” Your hips ground against Eddie's face as you kept cumming, and he didn’t stop, even once you were finished. Your whole body felt like it was on fire in the best way.

Eddie groaned loudly against your cunt. The feeling of your cum against his tongue and face was enough to have his cock twitching in his pants, making a mess of them.

You ripped your panties from your mouth and threw them somewhere behind you, not caring where they ended up. “E-Eddie!” 

He pulled away, the moon making your cum shine on his face. “Sound like an angel when you say my name.” His fingers circled your cunt, making you gasp. You were already so sensitive from one orgasm, but you knew he was just getting started. “Too bad you’re nothing but a needy slut.”

Eddie’s hand left your cunt, reaching up to the top of your dress, it now bunched around your belly and pulled it down enough so that your tits fell out. Your nipples immediately hardened, the cold air making them stiff. 

“Look so good like this,” he slowly kissed up your body, making sure to bite every so often. Eddie stopped at your hips, biting at each one until he was sure they’d stung.

Once Eddie had kissed his way to your chest, he took one nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue softly around it. His fingers squeezed and pulled at the other nipple, pulling the cutest whimpers from you. 

You bit your lip when you felt his teeth dig into your nipple and pull on it before letting it go. “Feels so good.”

“Of course it does.” He forced your legs back open with his hand, sliding his fingers through your sticky pussy lips. You gasped, grabbing ahold of his wrist. “Awe, you wanna cum again?”

You nodded your head quickly, barely letting him finish his question. “Yes, I wanna cum as many times as you’ll let me.” 

“How cute.” Slap! Your cunt stung, his rings catching against your clit, and you tried to close your legs, but Eddie was much stronger than you. Slap! “Beg for it.”

“Fucking- Eddie, please! I’ll do-

Slap! Slap! Slap! “I don’t wanna hear how you do anything I’ll say. Think of something better.”

More tears flowed down your cheek for another time tonight as you tried to think of the words to stay. You didn’t know what to say, you just knew you wanted to cum again, and you were getting impatient.

“Just- please! I’ll be such a good slut for you, and I promise to let you do whatever you want to me. Just let me cum again.” 

“Now, was that so hard?” Eddie finally slid his fingers into your waiting cunt, and you immediately clenched around them.

“Thank you, thank you.” You spread your legs further, making it easier for him to slot himself back between them. 

His fingers curled right against your g-spot, and you could already feel your second orgasm fast approaching. “You’re about to cum this quick?” Eddie tutted at you, curling his fingers over and over again. “Better hold it in.”

“I-I can't, I can't!” You shook your head, your toes already curling. 

With a heavy hand, Eddie smacked each of your thighs, immediately causing them to burn in such a blissful way. “You can and you will.”

Eddie knew how badly you wanted to cum, and he also knew how to skillfully use his fingers to edge you and make you hold it in. You were sure that if you didn’t listen, the inevitable would happen, and you wouldn’t cum again. 

“Now, are you gonna listen and hold it in? Or do I have to stop touching you all together?” His fingers slowed down as he waited for you to answer. 

“I’ll hold it in!” You grit your teeth, trying to find a distraction while Eddie toys with your sopping-wet cunt. 

You could hear how wet you were, your pussy squelching around Eddie’s fingers the more they pumped in and out of you. His pace was slow, making sure to drag at the pleasure, helping you hold your orgasm at bay as long as you could. 

“Whose pussy is this, huh?” Eddie had moved so his whole body weight was pressed into you, his forehead resting against yours. “I wanna hear you fucking say it.”

“Y-yours.” Your voice was weak as you stumbled on the words, finding it hard to focus when his fingers felt so good. 

“You’re gonna have to speak up, bunny.” He pulled his fingers out of your cunt long enough to slap your cunt again. You were sure that it was going to be bruised in the morning.

“Yours! It’s your fucking pussy, sir- oh my god!” You were so sensitive, so needy that you almost came right then and there. 

Easily, his fingers slid back into you, your eyes rolling back. You clenched around them, your orgasm fast approaching again. “Eddie…”

As soon as he felt you were about to cum again, he pulled his fingers out. You watched as they dripped in your juices, hitting your thigh. 

“Open up for me,” Eddie traced his wet fingers against your soft lips, waiting patiently. He dragged his fingers across your tongue, making you clean up the mess you made on them. “Don’t you taste so good?”

You wrapped your lips around his fingers, bobbing your head as your tongue swirled around them. Your doe eyes looked up at him as they silently begged him to fill you up again with his fingers, giving you a chance to cum.

“How can I say no to those beautiful eyes?” Eddie’s fingers trailed down your body, tracing over your nipples before dipping lower and lower. They ghosted over your clit, rubbing just enough for you to feel something. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

“Yes- oh fuck.” He caught you off guard, sliding in three thick fingers and filling you up just like you wanted. Your cunt sucked in his fingers, tightening round them. “R-right there.”

The pads of his fingers rubbed perfectly against your g-spot, making you see stars behind your eyelids. “Right here?” Teasingly, he grazed his fingers over the spot again, and you couldn’t hang on any longer. 

You were so sensitive from your first orgasm that this one was coming fast. There was no stopping it this time. 

Your legs clamped around his arm as you heard yourself cum before you felt it. You gushed around his hand, soaking everything below you and Eddie in the process. You bit at your lip so hard you could taste blood. “Fuck- Eddie!” 

His name left your mouth like a repeated prayer, his fingers not stopping until you felt your juices drip down the crack of your ass. 

“Shit, look at the mess you made.” Eddie pulled his fingers from your overly sensitive cunt, watching as they dripped more than they did before. The sheen of your cum shined brightly in the moonlight.

You watched with bright eyes as he pulled out his cock and balls again, it still leaking with precum. Your mouth watered at the sight before you. 

One of Eddie’s hands ran up your body, stopping to tightly wrap his fingers around your neck. “You know you made me cum in my pants while I was eating you out?” His other hand grabbed the base of your cock, dragging in through your wet folds. “Now it’s my turn to cum and fill up your pussy just like you wanted.” 

You whimpered at his words, reaching down to spread your pussy lips apart as the tip of his cock caught on your clit. “God, yes, I've been needing it so bad.” 

“Is that so?” Eddie barely slid the tip in, but it was enough for the both of you to moan in unison. “Will never get over how tight your pussy is, bunny.” 

The hand wrapped around your throat had you gasping for air, but you just smirked. “Please, fuck me.” 

“You want to be filled with my cum that bad?” Eddie grabbed hold of your hip, lifting you off his jacket so you were resting in his lap. “Work for it.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words as you slowly started to grind your hips against his. Your body weight was on your hands as you used them for leverage. 

His cock moved slowly in and out of you, Eddie’s eyes never leaving where the two of you were connected. “Look how good you take my cock.”

Eddie helped you and guided your hips back and forth, his jeans roughly rubbing against your ass. “Can’t give everything to you easily, can I?”

Your head rolled back as you whined out for him. The slow drag of his cock was just enough to set your body on fire. “A-am I doing good for you, sir?”

“Doing so good, just keep doing that, sweetheart.” His hand tightened around your neck as you gasped for air, your hips still grinding against him. “Just taking what you want from me, aren’t you, slut?”

“F-fuck, uhuh!” The burning in your hips started, but that didn’t stop you. The squeeze of his hand around your neck and the throbbing of his cock inside of you egged you on. “Oh my god!”

“Pussy was made for my fucking cock.” Eddie spat on your cunt, his thumb rubbing it along your clit. “Gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

His thumb kept rubbing at your clit as your cunt ground back and forth along his cock. You’d leave only the tip in before slamming down on the rest of his cock. The two of you groaned and moaned in unison, both close to cumming. 

Your tits bounced with the grind of your hips, Eddie’s eyes transfixed on them as if you had him in some sort of spell. 

“You’re a fucking goddess.” His eyes trailed up your neck, stopping to look and admire your face. Your lips were plump from all the biting, sweat beading on your forehead. “You look so good when you're fucked out, drunk on my cock.”

You couldn’t say anything, words completely leaving you. Your mind was complete mush, his cock the only thing on it. At this point, you’d say anything to him just to cum. 

Eddie’s hand let go of your neck to slap your face, bringing you back to him. “Feels too good, doesn’t it?” His smirk is brighter than it has been before. 

“Y-yes,” you ground your hips faster, chasing your release. “Your cock feels so good!” 

Both of his hands pinned your hips back to the ground, pulling out. You whined but quickly shut up when he slammed back into your cunt. Your whines now turn into pleasurable screams.

“I can’t take it anymore.” His hips crash into yours at a bruising pace, his balls wetly hitting against your ass. “I got fucking cum.”

You arched your back, grabbing his hands and squeezing them as you kept screaming. “Please turn me, Eddie- please!”

Eddie looked down at you, his cock bulging in your belly with each thrust. Your words replayed over and over in his head, the thought making his cock throb hard inside you. “Bunny- Shit! Gonna cum in this pretty pussy.”

“Give it to me, Eddie.” You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. “Need you to cum inside me, fill me up until it's dripping out.”

His eyes got darker as he leaned down, attaching his lips to your neck. What started as sloppy kisses turned into a hard bite. His teeth puncture your sweaty skin, your blood seeping into his mouth. 

Your toes curled, and you pulled on his hair, the bite being enough to make you cum so hard your body convulses. You couldn’t see anything, your vision going totally white. “I-oh, my god! Oh my fuck- Eddie!”

Eddie groaned loudly against your skin as he finally pulled his teeth from the two holes that adorned your neck. The taste of your blood, the clenching of your cunt as you came around his cock. He couldn’t take it anymore. You can feel his hard pants against your neck and his cock cumming inside you with a twitch.

He whispered your name as he kept cumming, spilling everything he had inside you. “That’s it, take it fucking all.” 

Your cunt milked him for all he was worth.

The only thing heard over the animals in the night was heavy breathing, the two of you spent. 

Your body felt sore, weak, and used by the time Eddie had pulled out of you, causing you to wince at the sensation. You couldn’t see him, too tired to open your eyes, but you could hear him move around you, fixing your dress so it sat just right and picking you up so he could cradle you into his arms. 

You felt weak, the bite on your neck stinging more than it had before. 

“I promise that you’ll feel better in the morning,” Eddie placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. The total opposite of how he was just acting with his cock inside you. “Just rest for now.”

[flowercrowngods]

based on an idea i had about steve getting a bad migraine from the sudden bloodloss after kas feeds from him

post-canon, steddie don't like each other, hermit kas, depressed brain injury steve, kinda gloomy, anxiety & compulsions

Steve cuts the engine with a sigh, feeling heavy and alien, like a lone survivor in a ghost town. He’s not a lone survivor, and Hawkins isn’t technically a ghost town because there’s still enough of them here to build it back up or to watch it crumble and cave in on itself, front row seats to the fourth wave of destruction. 

Maybe the real ghost is Steve, actually, floating through his days just waiting for his brain to decide it’s had enough. Just waiting for the perpetual ringing in his ears to rise in pitch and frequency and for his skull to fucking crack open from the never ending waves of the never ending buzz.

Robin asks him about it a lot, notices how he will stop and listen to his body on every inhale that feels slightly wrong, or every movement that’s just a little too fast or just a little too sudden, the blood rushing into his head or out of it, the doctor’s words ringing in tune with the tinnitus: You watch that head of yours, young man, and do not hesitate to call emergency services when the headache won’t stop after a few hours, or when anything feels off, you hear me? 

The truth is, he barely heard him then. Blood was roaring in his ears, the tinnitus still quiet, but his hearing still dull from impact and screams and shock wave after shock wave of the world sewing itself back together. 

He sighs again, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel and trying to catch his breath. Taking stock of his head, the heartbeat he can only feel in his hands right now and nowhere near his temples, and the quiet little tap tap tap of his finger nails hitting the leather, wanting to make sure he can hear it. Wanting to make sure he doesn’t imagine the sound. 

Always fucking needing to make sure. 

Soon, he breathes a little steadier, convincing himself that getting out of the car won’t be the last thing he’ll ever do. It’s so stupid, too, that fear, all that anxiety living inside him just waiting to boil and spill over until he does something stupid just to spite it.

The cool breeze hits his face, working in tandem with his calming breaths to alleviate his obsessive thought spirals, and he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he does nothing but breathe for a minute there. 

He’s up. He’s standing. He can walk through the forest to the vamp’s hiding place, it’s fine. It’s fine. Although standing so suddenly makes him aware that he hasn’t eaten much today, too busy hating everything about this town and helping to rebuild it anyway. 

Forgetting to eat and drink is another thing that’s new to him. There’s quite a few things he forgets a lot, but those are the worst. Robin is always on his ass about that, but at some point he stopped telling her. It feels like he’s stopped telling her a lot of things. Maybe that’s something else that comes with severe brain injury, young man. 

He feels plenty guilty about it at least — but not enough to tell her about all the horrible things that are happening to him, or the horrible things he thinks are happening to him. The Upside Down is gone, Vecna is dead. These bad thoughts, they’re all him. But knowing that doesn’t fucking help.

Pushing away from the car and turning around to lock it, Steve decides to wallow in self pity no longer and to just get on with it. As much as he hates it. As much as part of him wants to just go home and claim that he forgot about that, too. 

It’s no secret that Steve never liked Eddie. The boy’s a hypocrite, he’s loud, he’s annoying, and he just likes to shame people as publicly as possible, spitting proclamations of conformity and sticking it to the Man while at the same time turning anarchy into despotism under the guise of rebellion — and he’s the dictator. 

Or, he was. And Steve never cared about him or his larger than life attitude that was worse than any of the smiles Steve ever wore to fit in in high school. Steve mostly ever just wanted Munson to shut up and eat his lunch, stop pretending he’s better than any of them just because he liked different things.

Although it wasn’t even about liking other things, it was only ever about disliking. And shaming and denouncing. Steve always wondered what kind of a miserable life that dude must have lived, shaping himself not from what he liked but from what he hated. Creating an identity that left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth because it was so fragile and contradictory and, frankly, so fucking annoying. 

Still, he’d never wished for Munson to get involved in all of this. He’d never wished for the man to die. And then to come back only to be turned into some kind of vampire, doomed to live an even worse existence than he did as a human, hidden away in some shabby cabin. 

Steve feels a little bad for him now. For Eddie. Or Kas, as the kids like to call him because he never reacts to his name anymore, more monster than human these days, although Dustin is sure they can domesticate him into becoming his old self again. 

“Like Dart, remember?”

“Dude, don’t compare our friend to your sick little creature.” That was Lucas, affronted and annoyed. Steve could relate, although… 

“You gotta admit, he’s kind of a sick little creature himself now.” 

“Steve!” they’d both yelled, and Steve just playfully shoved their heads back before going to grab a coke from the fridge.

And Kas, because vampires are apparently a thing even after the end of the world, needs blood to survive. The forests are void of animals most of the time, like nature has decided to give Hawkins an ultimatum before returning and the day hasn’t come yet. Maybe it’s something to do with electromagnetic fields, or maybe it was something else entirely leading them all to safety while Hawkins was turned into a war zone. Either way, there is nothing for him to feed here. 

Kas can’t just stalk around the woods at night and drink up a deer or two. Nor can he go rob the blood bank at the hospital, they’re running low as it is anyway. That left them all with only one option that Mike so disgustedly pointed out back then: Kas needs their blood. And Steve feels just bad enough for him to play along. 

So now he is out here playing blood bank for the monstrous version of a guy he never even liked, and his hometown is in shambles, and his head might actually sign the fuck off at any moment now, apparently. 

Things are going great. 

Saving the world is just… really fucking isolating. 

Still he has no choice but to announce his presence with a firm knock on the door, the pattern easy but memorable. 

“This is Steve,” he adds as his hand falls to his side, waiting. 

Kas always takes a while to come out and open the door, hiding away from any noise like a feral cat. Steve can kind of relate — he and Kas don’t have the best relationship either. He has no idea how sudden vampirism works, but just like feral cats will be able to tell when someone wants to hurt them and when instincts should be kicking in, Kas seems to realise how little Steve wants to be here and help him. How little he wants to have his blood sucked out of his body leaving his limbs to feel numb and uncomfortably tingly. 

Eventually, though, the door opens with a creek, just enough for a pair of eyes — too large, too wide, too wild — blink back at him. Steve just lifts his eyebrows, really kind of not in the mood to deal with this barely human vampire and his absolute lack of learning curve about this situation.

When he’s sure Kas has blinked at him for long enough now, he pushes open the door and shoves inside rather roughly, immediately feeling bad when he hears the slight whimper. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, stuffing his hands into his pockets again and trying not to grimace at the stale, disgusting air in the cabin. “Jeez, you really gotta open a window every once in a while. Thought vamps were supposed to have heightened senses or some shit.” 

Kas growls at him, mirroring Steve’s move and shoving past him this time, his shoulder slamming into Steve’s with painful strength. Glowering at the stupid vampire, he rubs at his shoulder before crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“Listen, buddy, I can just leave and have you deal with your hunger, okay? No big deal for me, I even get to keep my blood.” 

Kas snaps at him, showing his fangs and crossing his arms, too; a laughable copy of Steve’s own stance. 

“Or you could just cut the crap and get on with it so I actually can leave again without taking shit from the peanut gallery. Your choice.” 

The huff that follows is so indignant, Steve wonders if that could be what gets Kas out of Munson’s body and let the human win over the monster. Maybe indignation and annoyance is what will break the spell eventually, lift the curse just enough for Munson to get back into his old habit of monologising and spouting nonsense out of that big mouth of his. 

Steve is half tempted to try, but he really does want to just go home and lie on his large couch with no sensory input whatsoever, tuning out the world and his anxieties that might be about to turn into compulsions just for him to gain a little control over everything again. So he squares his shoulders and takes off his jacket before tilting his head to the side, allowing Kas full access to his neck. 

It’s always a little scary but still oddly fascinating, filling him with that same rush that came with witnessing all the supernatural shit over the past few years. Kas is the last remnant of all that, and somehow, buried beneath piles of rubble and trauma and the teenager he had to give up on being, Steve feels weirdly protective of that. 

Not of Eddie. Of Kas. Of the monster that lies dormant. Of the last bit of danger in his life, because he doesn’t know how to live without it anymore — so much so that he has to make it up.

Maybe it’s a symptom of his self destructive tendencies, as Robin would call it. But Steve might be as fascinated with the vampire as Robin is with fire; so she doesn’t get to have a say in this.

There is always a strange intimacy in the way Kas approaches him. Slowly, carefully. Like a hunter his prey. Steve doesn’t feel like prey, not really, but a part of him wants to. A part of him needs to be prey again, if only for those instincts that manifest with a perpetual tremor and a restless feeling in his chest to be of use again. If only so he can have a point again. Something to fight that’s outside oh his own head. 

Now, his point is standing still entirely and feeling those chapped but warm lips trail up and down his throat a little before Kas finds the right spot that won’t really hurt Steve, the right spot that will make it all go by quickly and without any hiccups. 

Still he shivers, like always, and Kas holds him close when he finally bites down. Like always. 

He stands motionless as he feels his blood flow alternating, rushing in his ears and his head, his heart thump-thump-thumping, putting up a fight against the strange intrusion. He hardly even breathes at all, focusing instead on his body and burying his finger nails in his palm for five seconds before releasing his hands and repeating the process three times before he gets it right. 

But then his head is pulsing, his heartbeat slowing down as his vision briefly blacks out in the same way it does when he gets up too quickly, and his heart falls. It’s too much. Too sudden. 

“Kas,” he says, but the vampire doesn’t hear him, drinking more and more of the blood that must be so thick with how little he’s had to drink today — something he only just remembered. “Kas,” he says again, more urgently this time; but still the vampire drinks. 

And where before Steve had a clear vision of the door in the dark room — the light of day streaming in through the cracks and framing it almost mystically —, it’s spotty now. Just slightly off. Like something is missing but his brain is working overtime to complete the picture anyway, reducing the blind spot to merely an illusion. But Steve knows what’s happening. He knows what the sudden pulsating of his head means, especially when it’s followed by his vision just going AWOL on him.

No, he thinks as the situation really settles in, and he begins to push Kas away. Not like it matters anyway now; the damage is done. No, no, no, no, fuck! 

He frantically shoves at the vampire now, blinking against the blind spot even though he’s painfully aware it won’t help. Kas breaks away from him, wiping his mouth and smearing his face and the back of his hand with Steve’s blood. If he looks just right, he can’t even fucking see it. 

Heart falling further, Steve buries his hands in his hair and pulls, hoping that by some kind of miracle he can just pull the migraine out of his head before it can really settle. It’s his only chance. He can’t drive like this, he shouldn’t walk like this, and soon he won’t be able to do anything at all. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” be hisses, hearing the edge of desperation in his own voice and caring very little about that right now. 

Kas is on him again in a second, and Steve waves him off, tries to shove him away but the vampire is stronger and persistent. 

A high keening sound builds in Kas’s chest, and Steve knows he doesn’t really speak, doesn’t really use his words, ever — maybe he doesn’t know how. But the keening sounds more like a whine, and the way he pulls at Steve to look at him is as much an indicator of worry as he’s going to get.

But Steve doesn’t want Kas’s hands on him, wants to just get out and away before the pain comes. So he takes another step back and holds up his hands, hoping that the vampire will just fucking take a hint. 

A little too quickly and a little too frantic, Steve shakes his head, his eyes flitting about the room to see if there’s still pieces of it missing or if phase two is about to start. He has about twenty minutes left before his body will be composed of nothing but skull-splitting pain that is only equal to someone ramming actual nails into his head — and even that would be preferable right noe, because at least that pain he wouldn’t need to explain. Or justify.

Another keening sound interrupts Steve's burgeoning spiral, and his eyes land on Kas, who really looks like a kicked puppy right now. 

"I gotta go," he says, voice a little unsteady with apprehension and panic, but just as he's about to rush out of the cabin, Kas crosses his path and won't let him move. 

A strong hand lands on his chest, and Steve really, really doesn't want to deal with that right now. He tries again, tries with more force to sidestep and push past him, but Kas won't let him budge. 

"Let me go." But Kas doesn't let up. "Kas. Please. You gotta let me go, I gotta get home, I—“ 

The first flash of white in his peripheral vision catches him off guard, moving his focus away from the clawed hand on his chest and toward the flickering line that cuts through the left side of his vision right now. 

Curious or worried or maybe just really fucking stupefied at having Steve act so weirdly, Kas inclines his head and ducks to catch Steve's eyes. 

"Move," Steve says again, as assertive as he can manage with his brain and body scattered between following the flickering lights that are invisible to everyone else and the pain that is about to consume him, leaving him incapacitated for several hours at least.

Instead of moving out of Steve's space and allowing him to leave, Kas shoves him backwards with that superhuman strength he has now, forcing Steve to stumble back helplessly. Fear rises in him again, and it's a different flavour this time that mixes horribly well with the anxiety and apprehension and all the waves and waves of blinding panic he feels out of nowhere almost all the time now. 

His knees buckle when they hit something rather violently, and then he's falling, landing on the worn couch with a breathless gasp, his instincts running wild. He needs to fight, he needs to run, he needs to get home and be safe and get the fuck away from this monster who won't let him go now. Steve doesn't know Kas as someone who will just take what he wants, but, well, he is Munson, in a way. So that tracks. 

But instead of attacking him, instead of going for his neck again and sucking the rest of his blood, instead of beating Steve to a pulp to keep him pliant and unmoving and turn him into some sort of personal livestock, Kas just... sits down next to him. Hands in his lap. Worried look trained on Steve, who needs to catch his breath and calm down.

"Hurt." 

It startles Steve. Kas has never spoken to him. But what’s more, Steve shouldn't be that obvious. He doesn't want to be that obvious, especially about hurting and being hurt. 

So he shakes his head, his hands coming up to press into his eyes, hoping to get rid of the flickering lights even though he knows that once they stop, the pain will come; and it will come badly. 

"'M not hurt," he says, lying through his teeth and the heel of his hand. "I just gotta go home." 

"Hurt," Kas says again, and it's more assertive this time, less of a question. Like he's telling Steve rather than asking. Like he's making him understand. 

He reminds Steve a little of Robin in that regard, and he almost has to smile. He would, too, if he wasn't so aware that it would become a horrible grimace, wavering and pale even by vampire hermit standards. 

So he sighs instead, letting his hands fall into his lap and wringing his fingers. There are about ten, maybe fifteen minutes left. Not enough to get anywhere safe on foot, and he sure as hell ain't driving when his vision is halfway through its rendition of a TV without signal, zig-zagging in white and red and green, flickering and flaring and leaving him a little disoriented even when all he's doing is sitting on that dusty old couch. 

"Hurt," Kas repeats for the third time, and Steve tenses, ready to snap at him to shut up, that he's not hurt yet but will be any minute now and that Kas should really just shut the fuck up and leave himself if he won't let Steve go anywhere. 

But looking at those wide eyes, he doesn't snap. He deflates. His shoulders fall and his eyes close, which only makes the flickers worse, he feels.

“I’m… I’m gonna have a migraine," he sighs, letting that hang in the air between them, letting the words take up the whole room and suffocate him while he knows that they won't touch Kas. That he won't understand. Nobody does. 

It's just a headache, Steve, get over it. 

They leave a bitter taste in his mouth, and he's just waiting for the huff to come. 

But it doesn't come. Instead, Kas just keeps looking at him; same worried expression, same unobtrusive posture, same everything. Right. He probably doesn't know jackshit about what that's supposed to mean. 

So Steve explains. “I, well. I kinda can't really see right now, but that'll pass. That's when the pain comes. I won't want to move. No light. No noise. No nothing. And all I can do about it is wait it out, which is why I need you to let me leave..." 

It's one of those moments where he hates that he's the only one of their group with a license; that he can't just radio with a code red and have someone come get him no questions asked. 

"I just wanna go home, man," he sighs, hating his voice for the weak whine around the edges. 

A beat passes between them, and Steve pretends like he's not counting the seconds. Like he doesn't notice that the flickering zigzag line is getting smaller and dimmer, and that agony is imminent. 

"Here," Kas says then, and somehow it's both an offer and a command. "You. Here."

Steve blinks, the words not really translating through the tired fog of his brain. 

"Huh? Sorry, uh, what?" 

"You," Kas says, shuffling closer to him, like that sort of helps him translate what it is he wants to say. 

"Me." 

Kas nods, then motions around the room and pats the couch cushion, releasing a cloud of dust from it. "Here."

“You—“ Steve frowns. "You want me to stay here?"

The nod is decisive and in another world Steve would have called it eager, with the way Kas is shuffling on the spot. 

"Kas," Steve sighs, rubbing his face, not quite sure how to make the vampire explain that it's gonna be bad. Really, really bad. The flickering shimmer is already waning, and phantom pains are already setting in, settling along his skull like little pinpricks of warning. 

A clawed hand reaches for his wrist, making Steve flinch away, but Kas doesn't hurt him. He pulls Steve’s hand away from his face almost gently, slowly, and makes sure Steve looks at him. 

"Safe." And he looks so genuine about it. He looks like he knows what that word means. "Safe." 

With a sigh, Steve accepts his fate. Kas isn't gonna let him go anytime soon, and at this point Steve really doesn't want to face the gloomy weather outside, stuck as it is somewhere between drizzle and downpour and so endlessly grey for days. 

Still he feels pathetic about it. Vulnerable. Exposed. Like a last bastion falling, the castle walls crumbling, the fragile house of cards finally falling, because suddenly this agony isn't something he keeps only to himself. 

Even if it's only Kas who witnesses it. Kas, who’s endured worse than that, Steve knows. Brainwashing, manipulation, the agony of shaping human into vampire so excruciating his mind has gone into hiding still. 

"Okay," Steve breathes at last, pretending that his voice didn't break on that single word. "Okay."

Kas hums, the sound resembling more a gurgle than anything else, and before Steve knows what's happening, cold hands are pulling him up and off the couch. 

"Jesus," he mumbles, barely catching his footing and pulling away from Kas's grasp, but following nonetheless, not even thinking about fleeing now. "I'm coming, I'm coming, man, don't touch me." 

Miraculously, Kas does stay away, walking just one step ahead of Steve, turning towards him every two steps to make sure he's still following. It reminds Steve of a mama duck herding her ducklings across the street and making sure they're all still there. It's weirdly endearing. 

"Why do you even care?" 

He doesn't get an answer, but that's no surprise, and he doesn't really mind either. It was more about wondering, about putting that question out there and letting it take up space for future contemplation. 

Kas leads him to an adjoining room, the north-facing windows all barred shut, ripped and moth-eaten curtains drawn to block out the last of the light. Right. Fitting, for a vampire's lair. 

The bed in the middle of the far wall is surprisingly large, though, and looks surprisingly soft. It's unmade, but that's just as well. There are no belongings in the room otherwis that Steve can make out, the framed pictures on the wall look as dusty as the rest of the cabin, so they can't belong to Kas. Or maybe he likes them enough to keep them, to claim them as his own now. 

It’s a heartbreaking thought. 

Stupidly and out of nowhere, Steve wonders if he could take care of this cabin. Dust it and clean it and only fill it with things Kas likes. Maybe things Munson used to like — surely the kids would know how to go about that. Or Wayne. 

He's about to ask; about the pictures, about the stuff, about Wayne — if he's been around lately, if he's still telling stories to bring back the dormant Eddie parts of his modified and manipulated mind.

But just as he's about to turn to the vampire and ask, the blinding flickers disappear from his field of vision in the dark room, and within seconds something inside his skull bursts, leaving his body awash with pain that nearly has his knees buckling. A whimper escapes him that he tries to steer into a groan, but then his hands are flying to his head and he stops caring about how he expresses this immediate agony to the world. 

Kas is on him again with a whimper, suddenly just as fucking tactile as his once-human form. 

“Don’t touch me,” Steve rasps, wrenching himself free from the gasp once more. He really wishes Kas would stop touching him. "You want me to lie down here, yeah? Take your bed?" 

Kas nods again, looking at Steve with those wide eyes that seem to glow in the dark — or maybe that's his migraine-addled mind seeing things where they aren't, making up for the blind spot and the flickering. 

Steve looks away, the motion hurting his entire face, and he closes his eyes as pins and needles are moving along the inside of his face, pricking up against the skin but never breaking through. 

"Right then," he whispers, his voice barely audible and still too loud, making his ears click and pressure collect around them, making him wonder if they're going to burst. "'M gonna lie down." 

Struggling with the heavy blanket, Steve is close to giving up and just lying on top of it, but Kas is quick to help him once he realises that Steve needs it. He pulls back the blanket, still looking so damn stricken about everything, like he's genuinely worried about Steve. It doesn't make sense. 

He doesn't have the strength for a Thanks or even a smile, but he nods just once, just barely, before sluggishly falling onto the bed and fumbling with the blanket once more. Every movement hurts. Every twitch of a muscle is too much, and just moving his pinkie is enough to douse his body in never-ending pain that travels from his skull all the way down.

Something Steve has always wondered is why migraines make his body shut down like that, leaving him in a state where all he can do is lie down and fall into a near-catatonic limbo until the pain has lifted enough to face the rest of the world again. Fighting inter-dimensional monsters and posing as a feast to demonic, modified monster bats was also agony. It also made him lose his footing and almost pass out from blood loss and pain, his back scratched open completely where the bats dragged him across rough stone. 

Migraine pains don't really compare to those, though, and it scares him. Because he knows that's all up in his brain. His fucked up, mangled, thrice-concussed fucking brain he never got cared for because the government goons never took them seriously. Never took him seriously. 

And now here he is, lying in a stranger's bed in a pitch-black room that's still somehow too bright, unmoving, too weak to even pull up the blanket, and hoping to pass out from it all. Hoping he won't hallucinate again this time. Hoping that he won't throw up this time, his body convulsing because it knows it shouldn't be feeling like this. 

Throwing up from pain. There's really nothing more fucked up than that. Or, there is. Throwing up from pain and begging an invisible man to make it stop, only to realise hours later that the most painful migraines can also make you hallucinate. 

He doesn't want that. He doesn't want any of that ever again, and certainly not in a strange, dark cabin with a vampire forged from a human he never even liked. 

Tears spring to his eyes, but they're not the kind that'll fall and bring relief. They just stay in the corners of his eyes, his only way to express the waves and flares of pain washing over him, wishing he could just pass out now. 

Kas tucks him in. Steve didn’t know he could do that. It strikes him as extremely non-vampiric even in this state he’s in. Steve doesn’t react, doesn’t so much as blink his eyes open as the pain travels up to his hairline and settles there, flaring over his forehead to his eyes and down to his cheekbones and then up again, a never-ending motion that he never stands a chance to get used to. 

“Safe,” Kas says again, and it zings through Steve’s body with violent force that doesn’t match at all with the gentle tone he’s using. 

Scrunching his forehead to stave off more words, Steve hopes that Kas will take the hint and know to shut up. 

But he has no such luck. 

“Here.” 

“Shhh.” He shakes his head minutely, shushing the vampire with a barely there noise, keeping the damage to a minimal amount. “You can go,” he slurs, trying not to speak at all. “Please.” 

A beat of blessed, blissful silence, before there’s shuffling again. Kas does walk to the door, but then stops in the doorway. Steve doesn’t want to look. 

“No.” Kas sounds surprised about it. Mystified. Like he wants to leave but can’t. 

What?

“Stay. Here.” 

Whatever you do, just please be quiet about it, Steve thinks desperately. Instead of saying any of that, he shushes him again, hoping that the thump he hears means that Kas is sitting on the floor now. Though he doesn’t understand why. 

Why do you even care? 

“Safe,” Kas says again, whispering the word into the room, and it doesn’t zing through Steve this time. 

With Kas refusing to leave and his pathetic state of existence so blatantly on display, and with waves and waves as his nerves fire signals to his overworked and tired brain, more tears sprint to his eyes. And this time they fall. Silently, and without a sob, without even a sniffle of acknowledgment. But they fall. 

And Steve just wants to go home.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @hammity-hammer (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

part 2 here

[insteviewetrust]

Au where Steve was always able to talk to ghosts. He talks to his grandparents regularly, his granny thought him italian when he was little (I do love a italo-american Steve), and how to cook something easy when his parents started to go on longer work trips when he was thirteen. He watched old movies he found in the basement, and soon found out they were his grandpa's. After that, whole afternoons spent watching old westerns on the tv with Otis.

Steve being able to talk to Barb, telling her stories of what's happening, buying the books she wanted to buy but hadn't had the time to, reading them with her, let her cry and scream at the unfairness that was her death- she just wanted to have fun, to be seen and be with Nancy and-. He always cried with her, but rarely said anything. She needed someone to listen to her.

Steve screaming at the others that Eddie wasn't dead, he couldn't be, because he tried to contact him, and he couldn't and that has got to mean something . He would know, he would know, he would know, why don't they trust him?!

Steve deciding to go back to the Upside Down, and not finding Eddie's body. He knew it. But the smugness ended quickly, because if Eddie wasn't there, then where the fuck was he? What had happened?

He soon finds out when a creature with leathery wings and sharp teeths breaths down on the back of his neck, startling him from his panicked thoughts. "Stevie..."

Now with an addiction

[courtingchaos]

At the End of the World

At the End of the World

There’s a Devil Inside of Me and You

Death and Affection

[ryan-waddell11]

MOOD

[myosotisa]

Chasm - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

‖  summary: You're a researcher working at one of the fault lines throughout Hawkins, studying the closed and dormant gates to an alternate dimension. While you're alone on site, one of the gates wakes up again.

‖  tags: horror. i cannot stress this enough. this is unsettling and creepy and angsty with slight sexual tension. in line with the content in the show. post season 4, canon compliant. emetophobia warning. dubcon kissing. forced consumption (writing it made me gag just warning you. but im also kind of a baby so). no y/n, she/her pronouns used. flayed!eddie infects you. open ended ending. also steve is there sometimes. there's a ton of background lore that is only vaguely explained lol

‖  word count: 8.3k ‖  read on AO3 ‖  the song ‖

None of the rifts have shown any activity in over a year. Months and months of dead readings and no signals. Just waiting.

So what's a girl supposed to do when your EMF meter spikes alone on site? Sit around and wait for a crew to suit up and march their way over to the fault you were at? No fucking way. No chance.

You report in about the sudden spike in gamma radiation and tell them you're going to find the source. The project lead tells you to stay put and wait for assistance, as expected.

Your radiation gear was already halfway on. Oops, sorry boss, didn't hear you.

Handheld voltage meter in one hand, audio recorder in the other, and a pocket full of glow sticks, you push out past the plastic tarps and into the humid night air of Indiana summer.

The readings bring you west, toward the condemned trailer park and the "start" of your fault line. You crack a glow stick and drop it every few feet, marking your path. When the reading jumps up, you make a '+' sign with two at the spot before continuing forward. It was hard to say without exact measurements, but it seemed to be increasing at equal intervals. Like frozen waves on the surface of water.

"I'm approaching the Forest Hills sign," you say into the receiver, your own voice the only sound in the night air. "Current readings are…" You bring the meter up, using the light hanging from your neck to read the display. "Approaching 70 mv/m of high frequency radiation, roughly 31016 Hz. The next… 'Layer', for lack of a better term, will most likely breach Safe EMF levels, not considering the potential protection of the suit."

Lowering the meter again when it gives a beep of warning, you tuck it under your arm and crack another glow stick, leaving a '+' at the boundary to the trailer park. "I'll probably need treatment when I get back to base – as long as I grab a reading from the source and get out quickly, there won't be lasting damage. You hear that, Dr. Pierce?" You say through an over-confident huff, readjusting your arms to keep moving forward. "I'm well aware of the risks and take responsibility for my own actions."

The park itself looks like a bad dream at night – trailers abandoned hastily with doors still hung open and belongings scattered along the ground. Between the sudden fault opening and the bureau rushing in, the existing residents had been given very little time and grace to move into temporary housing across town. And it looked every bit like an entire community of people had just up and disappeared.

The suit you were in didn’t exactly help coordination, so you moved slowly and carefully over and around discarded objects along the dirt. Clothing, kitchen utensils, a quilt, a stack of newspapers, a child's toy. All left untouched for over a year.

Clearing the corner of one of the empty trailers, you catch sight of something strange.

“The fault itself has looked normal up to this point, no activity. But I can see the source now. It’s… It appears to be glowing red, fading in and out in a constant cycle.” Approaching even slower than before, you watch intently as the glow grows and then retreats again. Like waves on the shore.

The meter gives another shrill alarm – making you jump nearly out of your skin as you swat at it with the recorder. “Jesus Christ!” It quiets with a sinking pitch in your hand. 

Before checking the reading, you quickly make another ‘+’ with glow sticks, digging them into the dirt a bit in an attempt to keep them from moving. Still down on one knee, you bring the meter up to your flashlight again.

“The meter is now reading 110 mv/m, same frequency. I’m roughly… 12 feet out from the source now. There’s a, uh, humming sound. Not sure if the recording is picking it up. And feeling pressure on my eardrums,” you explain into the device, eyes locked on the glow ahead. “I’ll continue to approach – see if I can get a closer reading. If it jumps above 150, I’ll fall back.”

Pushing to your feet again with a huff, you readjust your full load and press forward slowly. The closer you get to the source, you can see that the fault rapidly grows in size. The space between the edges looks large enough to fit a car as it rounds out at the end – a red pond in the ground.

“I can see the source clearer now. The glow is coming from within – there’s a…" You take a few steps closer, squinting to get a better look. "It appears to be an opaque membrane covering the space between. The glow is coming from behind it. Still cycling at an even rate, no change.”

The meter in your hand gives its shrillest warning yet, scaring you badly enough that it goes flying out of your hand; it hits the ground and flips closer to the edge. “Shit, fuck!”

You shuffle forward and drop down onto your shaky knees, grabbing for the meter as it continues to let out that grating alarm into the night air. Smacking it once more, the sound cuts off abruptly, giving you a chance to breathe.

Bringing it up to your flashlight, your eyes go wide as you lift the recorder again with your other trembling hand. “I’m nearly at the edge now, only a foot or so away  – EMF reading 187 mv/m. Rapid increase from the last point.”

Movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention, your head snapping toward it.

“There’s… What the fuck?" You pause, tempted to rub your eyes to make sure you're really seeing what you're seeing.

"There’s movement below the membrane. It… It’s just a shadow, I can’t tell what it is, but the movement is rapid and the… The humming is getting louder.” Your heart is pounding now, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin beneath the suit. 

“Going to retreat back to base,” you say, mostly attempting to reassure yourself as you slowly back away from the edge. “Final reading was 189 mv/m at 31016 Hz.”

There’s a crackle of static right before a thumb presses the pause button roughly, silencing the recorder in the center of the table.

“Is that all?” General Richard Highland asks, sounding impatient as he leans back in his conference chair. “That doesn’t tell us anything about what happened to her.”

“No, sir, there’s more.” Private Steve Harrington insists, inclining his head toward the dirty recorder he had delivered. He’s standing by the edge of the table at attention, hands clasped in front of him.  “The recording keeps going.”

Dr. Pierce leans forward from his seat, giving the General a stiff look as he presses the play button again.

There’s a few more moments of static before the woman’s voice fades back in, layered beneath the hum of attempted interference.

“I’m definitely gonna need that rad treatment, Dr. Pierce. My badge is that warning color, even beneath the suit,” she continues with a shaky laugh, the sound of plastic shuffling behind it. “Hopefully I don’t lose my hair or something, but that’s… What?” 

The table of scientists and military personnel sits in tense silence as her voice cuts out again. Half of them are on the edge of their seats, the others showing off a measured calm or disinterest. The general looks particularly annoyed and impatient, while Dr. Pierce looks almost like he wants to throw up.

“There’s… Something’s happening – I don’t–” 

An abrasive crackle echoes out into the room, loud enough to send nearly everyone into a wince, before the recording cuts back in with the sound of screaming. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?! SHIT – I’ve gotta get–" A burst of interference sounds, followed by a metallic grating, like a ship groaning beneath the weight of the ocean.

Her panicked voice comes through, sounding further away than before. "FUCK! It – It’s got my ankle. Let go, you fucking piece of –! SHI–”

The recording cuts out to a buzzing hum.

No one moves for a few moments. Not until Private Harrington steps up to silence the recorder. “We found this recording, a lab issue EMF meter, and a broken flashlight at the edge of the fault." He explains, producing the other two items from the pack resting at his feet. "It was dormant when we got there – solid again.”

“So it just…” One of the other scientists starts, looking at Dr. Pierce uneasily.

“Dragged her through and went back to sleep.” Dr. Pierce confirms solemnly, his gaze locked on the dirty recorder.

“It’s never done this before?” A 2nd scientist, new to the project, asks. The others shake their heads. “So what do we do?”

All eyes turn to Dr. Pierce, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“We wait for it to wake up again.”

Wake up.

Come on, little lamb.

Wake up now.

Looks so peaceful.

But you’ve got to wake up.

…

WAKE UP.

There’s something wet on your face.

Feeling is slowly returning to your body, your eyes closed and too heavy to open. But there’s something dripping on your cheek – droplets running down toward your mouth. Sticking to your dry lips for a moment or two before falling off. You’re on the ground on your stomach, your cheek squished against something that feels like mud.

Your brain has yet to kick on fully as it tries to regain consciousness through a pounding ache, resonating with the throb of your left leg. It feels like you’re still wearing the rad suit, but the head piece is gone and it might be ripped in places – mud seeping in to touch your skin.

It’s almost like you’re sinking.

Eyelids fluttering open and you’re faced with a desaturated swamp. Like someone came through and sucked half the color out of it.

Lifting one arm is difficult, suctioned into the mud you’re laying in. Once you’ve freed it enough, you’re able to push off the sticky, wet sludge beneath you enough to roll over onto your back.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

You sit up with a start, your abdomen screaming in protest as your brain swims. Blinking through the blur in your eyes, you struggle to see anything at all in the dark – only momentarily granted sight by the flashes of red lightning overhead.

“Who’s there?” You call out into the dark, an attempt to sound brave, but your voice trembles as your eyes rapidly flit back and forth.

“Over here.”

The lightning flashes once more as you whip your head toward the voice – showing the silhouette of a man standing a few feet away. From what little you see, he’s tall and slender, head tilted to the side like he’s curious. There’s no chance you can see his face or anything else about him.

Until he’s in your face, crouched down right beside you – crossing the space and appearing in the span of a blink. It gives you a start, attempting to back up but getting caught up in the mud still suctioned to your lower half.

Your fear seems to bring a small smile to his face, plump lips tilting up at the corner. He looks so familiar… Long curly hair draped wetly over his shoulders, the sparse bangs across his forehead, and the soft turn of his nose. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lean in again slightly, squinting your eyes a bit more in the dark to see him better.

“I know you…” You insist softly, causing his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise. “How do I know you?”

“No clue, because I’ve never met you in my life.” He replies, lips parting in a grin. “And I’m good with faces – ‘specially pretty ones.”

His response catches you off guard as your brain continues reeling and struggling to intake information, which is normally your forte. There’s a million questions on the tip of your tongue and you have no idea where to start.

“You’ll probably need to lose the suit if you want to get out of that shit,” he continues when you don’t respond, motioning to your stationary legs with a wave of his hand. And he’s probably right, with the way the mud beneath you is stuck tight to the shiny plastic. Your best hope is to try to use the suit as a stepping off point to get to stable ground.

“Where should I step once I pull out?” You ask, hoping he’ll understand your goal.

A blink and he’s gone again – another flash of red light placing his silhouette off to your left. “Think you can make it to here?” He responds, voice raised slightly and sounding like he’s teasing you or challenging you. It makes your competitive side flare up on instinct – a frustrated huff leaving your nose as you plan your escape.

Opening the front of the suit, you slip both arms out and let the upper half fall flat behind you. Pulling out both of your legs next, your butt sinks deeper into the ground, nearly sending you off balance as you quickly shift your weight forward onto your knees, using the suit as a stepping stone. It starts to sink, mud coming up over the edge and inching toward your knees, so you have to move fast.

Pushing to your feet makes it sink faster, wet sludge touching the side of your ankle just as you push off in a jump toward where the man was standing.

You land on the ankle that had been grasped by the tentacle, not realizing the throbbing meant it’d been twisted. It makes you cry out in pain and fall forward, directly into the man’s chest.

“Woah there!” He says in surprise, grasping onto your elbows to keep you sort of upright. Between the aching pain and the tears pressing at your eyes, you just barely manage to notice how cold and clammy he is – especially where his hands grip your bare biceps.

Rocketing back, you press your weight onto your good leg and put some distance between the two of you again, your dirty arms crossing over your tank top and smearing it with mud. “Sorry, my, uh, ankle…” You offer awkwardly, still not even sure who you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about it, angel. You good?”

He actually sounds like he cares. Like he’s concerned for you. Who is he? 

“I’ll be fine,” you insist stubbornly, swallowing down the lump of tears in your throat. Free from your precarious situation, at least partially, you struggle to figure out what to address first. “How are you doing that? Like… Teleporting? Or are you just moving really fast?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “What–,” he disappears in a blink and then you feel a burst of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end, “this?”

You lurch forward before turning around to level him a glare. “Yes, that – don’t do that.”

His hands tuck into the front pockets of the leather jacket he’s wearing as he shrugs, looking quite pleased with himself. “Sorry, angel, didn’t mean to spook you.”

Then silence falls, both of you eyeing each other – you suspiciously and him curiously. The extended pause makes you think you aren’t going to be told how anytime soon.

A breeze kicks up, rustling the branches of the trees in the surrounding swampland and sending a shiver down your spine. Suit lost, you’re down to a tank top, jeans, and a pair of no slip shoes (which were required for people working in the field for some reason). You were dressed for the humid interior of the field site tent in summer and it appears that you have landed yourself in a place where that is not enough.

Taking advantage of the silence, you try to remember everything you can about your studies into the ‘gates’ from when they were open. Very little was known beside second hand accounts and old data – some of which may not even be accurate anymore given the nature of the fault lines. If there was anywhere to start, it would be trying to find the gate you’d been dragged through.

With any luck, you could go right back to your dimension.

But that didn’t account for him. The pale, wet, unsettling-yet-somehow-charming guy that was still staring right at you.

“How long have you been here? Do you know?” You question cautiously, not wanting to upset him in any way.

“That depends, what year is it?”

Your heart drops into your stomach, completely at odds with the continued grin on his face. It looks almost manic now – like every time he sets you off balance brings him great joy. Deciding you’d actually rather not know how long he’s been in here, you move on.

“Have you been alone this whole time? Or are there other people here?”

His grin spreads, like he’s in on a joke you’re not aware of. “I haven’t been alone, no.”

This piques your curiosity again, adjusting your weight on your good leg. “Do you have a community here? How many of you are there?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” He suggests, taking a step or two away from you, his hands still tucked into his pockets.

The idea is tempting, if only to learn more about what is going on here, but there’s something nagging at the back of your mind. Something you should be remembering. Something you’re missing. Plus, for all you know, this man does not have your best interests at heart.

“I should probably try to find the gate that brought me here,” you say, slightly regretfully. “See if I can cross back over.”

“Oh, right,” he responds, tapping his forehead with his palm like it should’ve been obvious. “Yeah, I can show you the way.”

This surprises you again, slight concern causing you to stand up straighter. “You can?”

“Sure thing, the closest one isn’t far,” he motions behind him with a tilt of his chin, taking another step back. “Come on.”

So you follow the strange man into the dark, limping after him on your twisted ankle. The mud starts to dry on your skin, hair, and clothing – crusting over and hardening in places. You pick at pieces as you walk, letting the chunks and flakes fall to the ground behind you. From what little you can see, there are vines everywhere along the ground, weaving between tree trunks and layering over each other in place. The man seems to step over them – and you can’t tell if it’s on purpose or a coincidence – but you make a habit of not touching the vines just in case.

It’s unsettlingly quiet here. Every once in a while you’ll hear what sounds like an animal – a howl, a chittering, the thump of feet on the earth. But they are few and far between, leaving mostly just the rush of wind through the trees and a sort of muffled silence, pressure on your ears.

Your paranoia kicks up as the quiet continues, suspiciously eyeing the back of your escort as he leads you forward. For all you knew, he wasn’t leading you anywhere near the gate. You have no reason to trust him beyond the fact that he helped you get out of the sludge you woke up in. He was in this dimension after all, clearly familiar with it. That had to be a red flag if anything, given what little you actually knew about it.

So much was classified beyond your reach – the bureau was very specific with what you were allowed to read and know and what you weren’t. Given the dormant nature of the fault lines, it hadn’t been necessary for you to learn too much about the dimension on the other side. Most of what you studied and knew was about the gates themselves.

Even with the bureau being as paranoid and obsessive as it was – a lowly field researcher getting dragged to the other side and needing to survive hadn’t seemed to be on their radar.

The pessimistic part of you not-so-helpfully supplies that was probably just because they weren't very interested in your survival at all. They’d probably prefer it if you died here. If anything, your exposure to the other side made you more of a liability.

Maybe one they could experiment on, if you got lucky and survived.

This train of thinking isn’t helping anything. You could worry about what your life would become if you made it out.

Walking up to the lifeless and solid gate turns that into a very tentative if.

“Looks like the door’s shut tight,” Eddie offers vaguely, rocking back and forth on his heels as you circle the hole in the ground, like seeing a new angle will change something about it.

The opening looks largely the same as the other side, in the center of the abandoned trailer park with the forest surrounding. Your arms are covered in goosebumps as the breeze hits harder in the open field, no longer buffered by trees on all sides. On the bright side, it is slightly better lit here and you can see your companion a bit clearer now.

“Do you know how these things work? Like how and why it opens and shuts?” You ask desperately, looking at him from the other side of the crevice.

The corner of his mouth tilts up minutely, his shoulders shrugging. “Yes and no.”

The scowl returns to your face, frustration mounting as another shiver of cold racks your body. “Are you intentionally being unhelpful? Or are you just an idiot?”

His lips part in a surprised ‘o’, his eyebrows raising like he’s impressed. “That hurts, angel. I’m no idiot, and I think I’ve been plenty helpful. After all… I could’ve just left you to drown out there. Or maybe led you into a trap. Or left you for the dogs.” He taunts, returning to a toothy grin. The question of if he has your well being in mind gets more and more clear with a resounding no.

A fearful jolt runs down your spine as you stare him down, trying not to let your fear show. Grappling tightly to your anger, you taunt back, “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you?”

A blink and he’s gone.

Your entire body goes on alert, tensing for attack as your heart starts to pound against your ribs. Eyes searching the immediate area in front of you come up empty. He’s either behind you or far enough you can’t see him in the low light. You never got an answer as to whether he’s moving quickly or teleporting or exactly how far he can get in the time you blinked.

He’s either long gone or… Trying to surprise you.

As soon as you have the thought, the hair on the back of your neck stands up – like some kind of unconscious sense of danger.

You turn in a quick 180 and he’s right there. Only a foot away from you with a sadistic sort of smile on his face. Your breath catches in your chest as it feels like a fist grabs tightly to your heart, suddenly much more terrified of the man in front of you.

That appears to be the way he prefers it.

“I think we can help each other.”

You blink at him, muscles pulled taut and ready to bolt as you try to figure out what the fuck he’s doing and what the fuck he wants. “What?” You question, your voice coming out a bit breathy and scared.

“I said, I think we can help each other,” he repeats calmly. “You help me, and I can help you get back home.”

“Why– What– H–how could I possibly help you?” You sputter, trying not to sound as terrified and confused as you feel.

His grin turns cheeky again, slightly less unsettling than it was a moment ago. “It won’t take much, angel, scout’s honor.” He says as he lays a hand over his chest. “You help me, then you’re free to crawl right back over to the other side and continue your life.”

Disbelief and uncertainty nags at you as you fidget in your spot, wanting desperately to put some more distance between the two of you but nervous to offend him. “So you can open the gate? You just want something in return?”

He shakes his head emphatically, appearing to be genuine in his denial. “I can’t but I know who can. They opened it before you were brought over.”

“And they would open it again? Just because you asked?” You question suspiciously, studying his facial expression for a sign that he’s pulling your leg again.

“Let’s just say that me and them have similar goals and leave it at that.”

There are 100 more questions on the tip of your tongue, but with the potential of getting back to your own dimension on the table, you’re reluctant to press too hard. He seems to recognize the battle you’re fighting with yourself as he laughs to himself. “You know what they say about curiosity, angel.”

An annoyed exhale punches out of your nose. “And I assume in this case that I’m the cat.”

“Bingo!” He says happily, tapping the end of his nose with his index finger. “So what do you say?”

There is so much you want to say. So many questions you want to ask. So much more info you need. But beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.

“What would I need to do?”

His smile goes sharp again. “So glad you asked. I’d just need a kiss.”

A beat of silence. Then your expression drops in disbelief and disappointment. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Dead serious,” he insists, laying his hand on his chest again as he regards you intently. “And it’s gotta be real – gotta kiss me like you mean it. None of those little pecks you give on the cheek.”

A strange swirl of intrigue and revulsion mixes together in your gut as you continue waiting for the punchline. The ‘just kidding, your face was priceless’. But it doesn’t come.

“Is this some kind of sick joke? Been so lonely out here that you have to twist the arm of a desperate girl just to get some–”

“Hey.” He interrupts, his tone intense and cold. It shuts you up immediately, though you can’t say why. “Don’t be mean, angel. This isn’t just me trying to take advantage of you. It has a real purpose.”

The dubious look you give him makes him crack another small smile. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m telling you the truth.”

“And am I allowed to know what this purpose is?”

He shakes his head again, displacing the curls draped over his shoulders that still appear to have not dried at all. “I’ll tell you when it’s done, how about that?” He offers, using your curiosity against you to try to sweeten the deal.

Really, it’s a no brainer. Sure, he’s a strange person that lives in an alternate dimension that has some strange abilities. Sure, you know next to nothing about him despite that itch in the back of your head telling you that you know him somehow. And sure, this could be a huge mistake. But having to kiss this admittedly-attractive dude just to get out of this nightmare dimension and get back home? The choice is simple.

Which only makes you more certain there’s a catch you aren’t seeing.

“Fine. If you swear I’ll be able to go home, then I’ll do it.”

His expression brightens excitedly, a sort of childlike joy appearing on his face. It’s different from any of the expressions you’ve seen on him so far – like genuine surprise. “You will?”

“Yeah, sure.” You reply, trying to brush it off as nothing. “Not like I have a lot of other options here.”

His excitement fades slightly, though he still looks pleased with the outcome. “Glad you made the right decision.”

An unsettling silence falls as the two of you study each other once more, now much closer than the last time. Fear and anticipation builds steadily as you find yourself glancing down at his lips – realizing you’re about to know what they feel like on your own.

“Do we, uh,” you pause to clear your throat as you awkwardly break the silence. “Do we do it now? Or… What?”

He takes a step closer, entering your personal space. His voice is lower, stickier, and richer when he responds. “Do you wanna do it now, angel?”

You suddenly feel like a fly stuck in a honey trap – eyes widening as you struggle between wanting to further close the distance and to run away from him. “Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose?” Though you meant it to be nonchalant, it comes out as a nervous question.

The uncertainty in your voice only seems to make the man crack another amused smile. “I suppose so,” he replies softly, gently teasing you as he gets even just a little bit closer. You can feel your heart pounding in your neck, constantly flipping back and forth between fear, interest, nerves, and embarrassment. Looking at you through slightly lowered eyelids, he leans in toward you. Close enough you can feel the exhale of his breath on your face.

“Kiss me like you mean it, angel.” He reminds you quietly, the tip of his nose nudging against yours as your eyelids flutter closed instinctively. “Don’t forget.”

Then his lips are pressing to yours. You make a small noise of surprise, both in that you weren’t sure if he was actually going to do it and because he’s so cold. But his lips are plush and soft as he places your lower lip between his own. As promised, you kiss him back, trying not to think about how strange it feels that he’s cold and the situation you’re in – focusing on the gentle pressure of him as he steps even closer and brings his hand up to cradle your jaw.

It’s gentle and sweet as you find yourself starting to forget the reality of it all. Your hands find the edges of his leather jacket, tugging him closer as he hums happily. His other hand finds your waist – cold through the thin fabric of your tank top.

Teeth nip lightly at your lower lip and you make another small noise of surprise, a flash of heat through your chest at the pleasant feeling. It distracts you further – not even questioning the adventurous flick of his tongue against your mouth. You part your lips on instinct; his hand flexing happily against your jaw as he tests the waters to run his tongue along yours.

You return the gesture, encouraging the touch as you breathe heavily through your nose. You’re running low on air and will need to part to breathe soon. You’re surprised to find that you aren’t really sure that you want to stop to do so.

He seems to recognize the impending need too; his lips pressing against yours more insistently, like he’s getting what he can before it ends. His tongue ventures past your lips one more time, pressing further than he had before. Is… Is his tongue longer than normal?

In the same moment that he pulls away from you, the hand on your jaw claps over your mouth to keep it shut. And there’s something in your mouth.

There’s something moving in your mouth.

You make a high pitched noise of panic as your eyes double in size, looking at him in terror while he holds you tightly to his front and keeps his hand firmly over your mouth. “Ah, ah, angel. You gotta swallow it.” He coos, his palm clammy and cold against your slick lips.

You shake your head as well as you can with his grip, making noises of protest as you struggle to keep the smooth, wiggling object from sliding down your throat. Your hands grab at his wrist and forearm, trying to pull him off, but his grip is too strong. Begging him with your eyes, sharp and stuttered breaths coming out of your nose as you hyperventilate, he just gives you a sad smile. “It’s not that bad, I promise. Just gotta swallow and it’ll be over – don’t make me plug your nose.”

Painful tears poke out of your eyes and start to descend down your cheeks, nails digging into his skin to try and get him off. It seems not to affect him at all, his other hand giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay. This is it – you won’t have to do anything else. Come on, angel. You can do it. Just swallow for me.”

His words of encouragement make your head spin in confusion, panic mounting as the outcome seems inevitable. More tears pour down your cheeks as you choke on a sob, inadvertently allowing the object to slide down your throat. 

“There we go,” he sighs in relief, grip on your face loosening, “Good girl.”

Somehow he knew that you’d swallowed it because he releases you right as you start to cough roughly, stumbling away from him and bending forward. You can still feel the strange coating from the creature on your tongue and down your esophagus – thick and wrong as you cough and gag.

Get it out, get it out, get it out, GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!!

“What was– How do I– I’ve gotta–” You stammer, stumbling over your words as you tremble wildly and gag, your body responding to your panic by wanting to reject the new contents of your stomach.

He appears right beside you again, gripping both of your wrists with his hands as he forces you upright. “Don’t throw it up.” His voice is a command, his expression intense. “If you throw it up, I’ll have to force feed you another one. And trust me, it’s way less fun the 2nd time.”

Tears continue to pour from your eyes as you rapidly shake your head. “What was– What is– Why are you doing this? What was that thing?”

“Calm down, angel, please calm down,” he begs, starting to look distressed himself. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear, it’s gonna be fine. You’re a part of something bigger now. It’s all going to be okay.”

You try to pull out of his grip on your wrists, alternating between yanking back and rushing forward to push him away. “What the fuck does that mean?! What have you done to me?!” You shout through your tears, white hot panic spreading through your body. “It’s not too late – I can still, I can still throw it up, I can…”

He drags you in, wrapping you up in a tight bear hug with your arms trapped between the two of you. He shushes you, standing steady against your weakening struggling against him. “Shhh, shh, it’s alright, angel. It’s okay. You’re gonna get to go home, okay? We’re gonna get to go home.”

“Sir, we’ve got activity.”

Dr. Pierce pushes out of his desk chair fast enough to make his head spin – lack of sleep and too much coffee weakening him beyond measure. He’s barely left the main building since you went missing.

Since you were dragged through.

There have been constant patrols of the fault line you disappeared into, hoping for any sign of it waking up again. It was on his order and against the wishes of General Highland. She’s a level 1 researcher. She knew the risks. It’s not worth the cost.

But you didn’t know the risks, not really. Pierce knows he didn’t do enough to prepare you, to warn you. He didn’t do enough to protect you.

This is his fault.

He’s not the only one buzzing with anticipation as he exits his darkened office; several other scientists and field agents are reacting to the news of activity with a rush. Not everyone will be allowed to go to the site, as it would be a madhouse, but several live cameras and other surveillance equipment have been set up in the area. At least a quarter of the bureau across the country will be intently watching whatever happens next.

Pierce says nothing as he makes his way for the garage and the people he passes know better than to approach him now. He can still feel their eyes – judgemental, curious, concerned. He’s felt their eyes for days.

There are several SUVs already prepared by the time he arrives, most already full of people who were approved to be on site in the case of reactivation. He recognizes the soldier standing by waiting for him as Private Steve Harrington, the same man who brought in the recorder originally. He’s one of the few people at the bureau with prior knowledge of the other dimension despite his low rank.

“Sir,” he greets with a respectful head dip, opening the backdoor of the SUV for Pierce as he approaches. Pierce returns the gesture before climbing into the backseat, sliding across the bench to the opposite side. Steve gets in after him, his bulky gear forcing him to sit far forward on the bucket seat as he slams the door closed behind him.

It only takes another minute or so before the caravan lurches and begins to move, following after the identical black SUV in front of it.

The walkie-talkie on Steve’s shoulder kicks to life quietly, a short and concise signal coming through that Pierce doesn’t understand. The exhausted scientist looks over curiously as Steve murmurs an, “Affirmative,” into the device before clicking it off.

“Any news from the fault?”

Steve glances over, surprised to be addressed, before he turns back to look out the front windshield. “Nothing yet, sir.”

Pierce keeps an eye on the soldier as they travel – watching with intrigue as the man continuously searches the vehicle’s surroundings, like he’s expecting an attack.

“You seem on edge, Steve.” He straightens in response, looking even more uncomfortable at being referred to by his first name. “Is it because the gate is active?”

A muscle in his jaw rolling with tension, Steve keeps his gaze firmly forward as he responds. “It doesn’t supply a good feeling, that’s for sure.”

“And yet you still volunteered for the theoretical strike team to go through?” Pierce wonders aloud, phrasing it like a question.

There’s a tense moment of silence before the private answers. “At least I already know what to expect on the other side.”

The two don’t interact again for the reminder of the drive.

The SUVs all pull into the vacant field beside the field tent in a line, the leader of the patrol team coming out to meet the first vehicle. Pierce watches General Highland step out of it and start to converse with the uniformed woman. By the time he makes it way over, he seems to be catching the tail end of the conversation.

“We have each unit spread out in even intervals along the fault; so far there has been no change since it first activated.”

“And they all have their protective equipment on, I presume?” Dr. Pierce cuts in, surprising the patrol leader and earning an annoyed look from General Highland.

“Yes sir,” she responds with a head nod. “I was just telling the general that they’re all outfitted with gear to protect them from the worst of the radiation, but it would still do good to regularly swap out the unit in the center, where the worst of it is.”

Pierce agrees with a stiff nod, not waiting to hear the general disagree before he turns to look back. As he expected, Private Harrington trailed him over, waiting a respectful distance away as to not eavesdrop. “Harrington.”

Steve turns at the call, jogging over to Pierce. “Sir.”

“Suit up. You’re coming with me to the source.”

“Yes sir.”

The pair of them push into the field tent, currently staffed with 15 more people than usual. There are researchers and scientists bent over displays and documenting readings, soldiers standing by with weapons, field agents watching over the researchers shoulders. Pierce walks past all of them, parting the way as he does, and starts to strip off his lab coat while pulling a radiation suit off the rack. Steve follows suit, removing a majority of his gear to reequip on top of the plastic suit.

The buzz of excited chatter is nearly grating on Pierce’s ears as he goes through the annoying process of putting on the PPE. But he misses it when it suddenly cuts off, directly after one of the researchers announces, “We’ve got a spike in activity!”

Pierce looks over at Steve, who is still clipping things to his belt again. “We’ve gotta move.”

“Yes sir,” Steve repeats once more, gathering the bare necessities in his arms to try to equip as they move. The pair of them push out the other side of the tent and set into a jog towards what used to be Forest Hills Trailer Park.

They pass a few pairs of outfitted people as they move – soldiers patrolling and scientists maintaining the monitoring equipment placed along the fault. None of them interact as the pair jogs past, heading for the end of the fault line. They can see a small group ahead – presumably gathered closer to where the spike in activity happened.

“Make some room!” Steve barks out as they approach, the gathered group moving further away from the fault line in response. Some look back to see who is coming while others keep their eyes locked on the glowing source beyond.

“Keep at least 10 feet back from the fault at all times,” Pierce orders the group as they pass. “Stay in pairs, don’t go off on your own. We have very little idea what we’re dealing with here, but we have reason to believe there are things that will try to drag you through the gate. If something comes out, fall back and call out. Don’t let your partner get grabbed.”

There is some murmuring in response, but no one openly disregards the order, starting to pair off as a few people move further back along the fault line. Pierce approaches a pair hunched over a meter near the source, keeping his eyes on the glowing red below. “What are we looking at?”

“It’s fluctuating slightly; was 116 mv/m at 31016 Hz at peak.” The researcher responds, keeping a close eye on the EMF before them. “Nothing close to the reported 189 mv/m. We might not be looking at full activation. Or maybe it’s building up, it’s hard to say.”

“Wait,” Steve cuts in, holding a hand out for the researcher to pause. “Do you hear that?”

They all fall silent, listening closely.

Then Pierce hears it – the hum from the recording. The one you were talking about hearing.

The scientist gives him a nod of agreement before looking back to the researcher. “Any sign of movement from the other side?”

“Not that we can tell from here,” the field agent answers for them. “We’ve been following the guidelines to stay back so it’s hard to catch anything from here.”

“Radio? Portable EMF?” Dr. Pierce asks, and the field agent presents both. He takes them and then looks back at Steve. “We’re moving up.”

Even behind the protection of the face shield, Pierce can see the tension in his expression. Regardless, the private still answers with a confident, “Yes sir.”

Keeping the meter within eyesight, the two push ahead, closer to the large opening at the source. Pierce watches it tick up with each step closer, crossing the 150 mark as they get within 5 feet of the edge. Looking out across the opening, the glowing membrane pulses and hums with energy, louder and louder as they approach.

There’s very little movement on the other side, but every once in a while Pierce catches a glimpse of a dark shadow moving beyond.

“Never gets any less unsettling to look at,” Steve murmurs beside him, shifting his weight between his feet as he keeps his eyes locked on the unbroken membrane.

“Dr. Pierce, we’ve got another spike!” The researcher calls from behind, voice sounding a bit concerned. “We’re edging 170 now.”

The humming increases steadily along with a slight vibration in the ground beneath their feet. Steve steps up beside Pierce, a hand out like he’s ready to drag him back from the edge, as Pierce stares into the membrane intensely.

Come on. Come on. Come back through. Just be alive. Come on. Please be alive.

A more defined shadow moves along the edge closest to the trailer and doesn’t pull back. “We’ve got movement!” Steve calls back, alerting the nearby units as Pierce’s hand flies out to hush him. They both watch with a certain level of horrified fascination as the shadow grows defined enough to make that section of the membrane appear black before it begins to tear.

A bare hand extends out of the membrane, blindly grasping for the nearby edge. Steve twitches forward, like he wants to go and help them, but Pierce holds him back wordlessly, leaving them both standing perfectly still as another hand appears and grabs onto the edge.

The person uses the grip on the edge to pull themselves through – a woman in a filthy tank top and jeans struggling to pull herself onto the flat ground. As soon as she is through, she quickly turns around on her knees and reaches back through the membrane.

You’re… You’re actually alive.

Several soldiers approach slowly with their rifles out, aiming at you as you take hold of someone else’s hand and start to pull them through. A pale man with long, messy hair appears from the other side, holding on tightly to you as you help him reorient to the change in perspective. “No way…” Steve whispers, standing frozen as he watches them start to sit up and look around.

“Dr. Pierce!” You call happily once you spot him, waving at him like you’re excited to see him. There’s a huge smile on your face, a stark contrast to your utterly disheveled appearance. “I made it! I’m back!”

The soldiers continue to keep their weapons trained on the newcomers, watching for some sign of aggression. You slowly get to your feet, offering your hand to your companion and helping him up too. Steve takes a few mindless steps towards them, Dr. Pierce no longer stopping him. “Eddie?” He calls uncertainly, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Eddie, is that you?”

The man’s head perks up, looking in Steve’s direction. “Harrington?” He replies, sounding just as uncertain and confused. “Is that you in there?”

“Eddie, as in Eddie Munson?” Dr. Pierce asks Steve, still unmoving as he stares at you, seemingly unharmed.

“Yeah…” Steve breathes out, still looking stunned. “And he doesn’t look like he’s aged a day.”

You and Eddie start to walk over when a soldier barks at you to stay back, both of you nervously putting your hands up as you look between the armed soldiers, Steve, and Pierce.

“It’s me, Dr. Pierce. It’s really me.” You insist, looking at him pleadingly. “And this is Eddie, he helped me find my way back. He saved me.” You add, motioning to the man beside you. The two of you are close together; you stand slightly in front of Eddie, like you’re protecting him. Eddie just offers a sheepish smile and a shrug, like it was no big deal.

“Sir? What do we do?” One of the soldiers asks, glancing in Dr. Pierce’s direction.

The two of you look exhausted, dirty, hungry, but… Harmless. No worse for wear despite the time spent on the other side.

“Bring them in.” Pierce orders. “No excessive force. They’ve been through a lot.”

The soldiers nod, lowering their weapons and urging you both to come forward. You look particularly relieved, while Eddie appears mostly unphased by all of it.

“Thank god, I need a shower so badly.” You announce with a happy laugh, walking toward them as you shake your head and make a disgusted face. “No one smell me, I’m begging you.”

If anyone finds your behavior unsettling or strange, they don’t say so. Everyone mostly looks relieved it didn’t turn into some kind of fight. While there is something off about how you’re acting, Dr. Pierce can’t find it in himself to feel anything besides relief at your return.

Steve stands motionless and tense as Eddie approaches, looking every bit like he’s seen a ghost. There is no excitement, no relief, no… Trust. Like this is all a bad dream and he just wants to wake up.

Just before you and Eddie pass the two of them, you flash another excited smile. “And not a moment too soon – I’m so thirsty.” You look over at Eddie, who nods in agreement, before you continue walking toward the field tent in the distance, flanked on either side by armed soldiers.

Eddie stops by Steve, giving him a tilted smile. “Hey Harrington, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same to you,” Steve replies, his tone apprehensive and flat. If Eddie catches on, he doesn’t show it, just continuing to show that same smile – like he knows something you don’t.

“What can I say?” He offers with a shrug and a wink before he continues to trail after you and toward the growing crowd beyond. “It’s good to be back.”

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thanks for reading, please let me know if you liked it!!

[kas-eddie-munson]

cw: ableism, depression

~~~

Eddie always tried not to dream too big.  He grew up poor, with shitty parents, so he learned pretty early on to prepare for disappointment if he ever asked for or wanted something, even non material wants, like love.

It didn’t always work, though.  His teachers always said he had his head in the clouds.  He dreamed of becoming a rockstar, getting married with kids afterwards.  Moving into a big house with a dog and a yard.

And he knew, really, it was silly.  But he thought maybe he could get bits and pieces of that if not the whole thing.  Maybe he would never have his dream job, but he could do something similar.  Play his guitar at bars on the weekend, teach kids music lessons, or work at a record shop.

Maybe he would never find someone who could put up with all his dramatics and energy full time, but he’d have a girlfriend, eventually, for a while.

And here he was.  Couldn’t even sell weed anymore, couldn’t get out of bed without help sometimes, could barely get out of the house without help, certainly couldn’t drive.  The new trailer didn’t even have steps, it had ONE step.  And that was enough to stop him from moving up and down with a wheelchair.

ONE step.

The bathroom door was too narrow to fit through with it.  He had to hold his piss sometimes when he didn’t have the energy to get all the way there without his chair.

He knew he was a financial burden on Wayne.  The government paid off most of his medical bills, and for their new home, but that wasn’t gonna cut it forever.  Especially if Wayne kept insisting on him continuing physical therapy.

He wondered what they told him.  If Wayne really thought he could ever walk again, more than across a room or from the door to the car.

Eddie did, at first.  Again, dreaming too big.

The doctors were honest with him, even if his heart wasn’t.  He’d be in pain probably the rest of his life.  Things would get better, but he’d probably always need his chair, at least sometimes.

Things were awkward, with his friends.  They didn’t get it.  He didn’t expect them to, and it’s not like they ever talked about feelings and shit anyway.  They didn’t think he killed Chrissy, he was pretty sure, and they weren’t super weird about how he got jumpy sometimes, but they’d get so awkward.  He’d move past them in his chair, and they’d cast their eyes to the floor, trying not to look at it.  Stopped inviting him places when half the time they’d show up and there’d be no ramp, or the ramp would be too steep, or too narrow to actually get up it.  Or they’d have to talk to five different employees to find the one who knew how to work the automatic door in the back of the building by the dumpster.

Not to mention how he often needed help just getting out of the car.  And how he ALWAYS needed a ride.

So they stopped talking to him, more or less.  The Party did still, kind of.  Dustin was always going on about Eddie’s exercises, and telling him how he can still do anything if he sets his mind to it, that that’s what they always said at science camp.

He means well, but Eddie doesn’t know how to tell him he’s already trying so, so hard.  That this is him at a hundred and ten percent.  That not every problem is something you can fix.

So, Eddie spends a lot of time alone, in his room, exhausted, too tired to even write music or work on campaigns - stuff you can do lying down - half the time.

Except on Thursdays.  Thursdays, Steve drove him to his physical therapy appointments.  It honestly felt kind of pathetic how much he looked forward to sitting in a car mostly in silence for thirty minutes a week.  He tried putting on music sometimes, but Steve always turned it off, and Eddie?  He’s too tired to fight over stuff like that anymore.

And Steve didn’t want to talk, it seemed.  People didn’t usually ignore him when he spoke these days, but Steve almost always did.  And Eddie didn’t care, really.  Again, lowering his expectations.

That was until this Thursday, anyway.  Sitting in silence, Eddie noticed a plastic bag by his feet in Steve’s normally pristine car, and Steve snatched it out of his hands when he tried to pick it up.

“Sorry, I uh, forgot to clean that up,” he said, and stuffed it in the center console.

Parked at the physical therapy place, Steve got out of the car to get Eddie’s chair out, and one of the older women who went here sucked him into a conversation Eddie was half listening to through the closed doors.  He glanced in the rear view mirror, and noted that Steve was facing away from the car.

Eddie looked at the center console, considering.  He popped it open and inspected the bag.  Inside was a stapled sheet of printer paper and a brochure.  Eddie frowned, and stuffed everything back in the bin as the woman left and Steve popped the trunk.

The brochure was information about hearing loss.

Steve helped him out of the car, and held the door for him into the building as usual.  Eddie noted how, despite being unusually quiet, Steve still treated him pretty normally, compared to some of their other friends.

Eddie didn’t get much done during his appointment.

~~~

Edit: Now has a part two; part three; part four; part five; part six (final!)

[hitlikehammers]

Kas!Eddie versus the Upside Down Steve Harrington

(it's still steddie though don't worry)

The plan was to send him through the cracks remaining around the gates, and simply let the beast in him, in this new resurrected version of him, do what it was bred for.

The flaw in the plan was believing that this creature was a novelty; that there wasn’t a beast inside Eddie Munson long before the bats had picked him clean.

It left certain things—little things, nothing so vital as to truly override his commands—but it left the man who was Eddie Munson certain capacities to control. Mostly idle ones, inane memories of being himself. He thinks it’s worse, that way.

Like how he remembers grabbing Steve’s arm in the woods, not knowing why, what his next move was going to be but his heart hand been pounding—so human, a scathing voice echoes in him now, taunting; patronizing—but he’d pulled hard enough to draw Steve’s bare and bandage chest to his only to freeze when their lips brushed entirely by accident and Steve had spoken without moving back an inch:

Later. Let’s make him pay first, then we’ll have time.

And Eddie had half-gasped on weak lungs: Im gonna hold you to that, baby, wholly missing salacious and sticking on squeaky-breathless with his tone, knowing he didn’t have the balls to follow through, if they managed to crawl out alive.

But it is why his parting words were what they were. Make him pay.

A coward’s way out to beg it: give us the chance in the after.

And Steve’s eyes had widened, dilated even in the dark and he’d nodded. He’d agreed. There was a future for them worth fighting for and—

Eddie remembers these things.

The beast in him, that’s he’s become more than any other thing, the creature whose master reference to ask Kas: that beast laughs.

The beats Eddie’s always carried in his chest, for all the wrong and hurts he’s already survived: those beasts long desperately to tear this Kas-thing to shreds.

But the Kas-beast holds the reins; the other beasts can seem to wrangle them free.

Which is how he ends up at this house. This window sill. Slithering up the siding to crawl inside.

His landing could be silent; Kas has the capacity. And the deed could be done instantaneously—Kas could do that but won’t.

Eddie’s beasts, and the heart with wishes beyond merely housing dragons; Eddie makes his landing hard, to draw attention.

The Kas-beast growls and vows a slow and painful show.

Eddie steels himself inside himself, bites at his tongue and hates that the taste feeds Kas as it repulses all that Eddie still is—bur Kas’s promises mean time.

More time. More time to try and grasp some control, some capacity to fail and not, not—

“Eddie?”

Eddie snaps his attention, turns toward the voice: he’d made noise to wake his prey on purpose.

He hadn’t expected even Steve Harrington to be so skilled as to know his shape even so altered, what’s left of the face of him under every scar and shift—impossible.

But Eddie’s breath catches anyway.

Weakness. Failure. He means nothing. Why hesitate, cretin? Atta—

“Eddie,” and Steve’s standing, his full height still matched to Eddie’s own, the Kas-beast had transformed his shape but he doesn’t tower, even if he’s broader—he’s built for speed now. An efficient tool, the Kas-beast was called by its master.

Eddie, for whatever he’s worth, for whatever what’s left of him could possibly be worth: Eddie shudders, feels sick when he hears that voice. Knows the touch of those vine-wrinkled fingers tracing his face and—

“Fuck, god,” and the hands on Eddie’s face—whole hands, warm and unhesitating, tracing his cheeks, testing his pulse where is slower, deeper, thunder-like except now it’s a tempest, like two different creatuely muscle vying against themselves inside one chest because Eddie’s human heart’s racing, Steve is touching him, is eyeing him like a muscle and it’s heady hit horrific Bevause Eddie didn’t come alone.

And the beast in control has no attachments; shows no mercy.

“I’d,” Steve blinks, when he moves his hand from Eddie’s neck back to his face, framing in both splayed palms but Eddie still whines at the loss of the feeling of a delicate touch at his throat—it comes out as a growl, menacing, and a piece of him wants only to cower inside himself; from himself.

Steve, though. Steve doesn’t even fucking flinch.

“I thought, Eddie, I couldn’t have even hoped, you were so,” and oh, oh, Steve almost looks like he’s going to tear up, he looks flat out fucking overwhelmed and Eddie wants to reach, he wants to reach out and hold but his hands are indelicate, and the claws—

“Are you in pain?”

Of course Steve sees the way he grimaces, the war inside him to reach but no, no because it will tear through flesh like paper and then the voice, ehe thunderous tattoo building reach, reach, end him—

You have your orders.

“Steve.”

Eddie realizes he hadn’t really bothered to try his voice above ground, hadn’t paid attention below. He should have. He sounds ragged, half gravel and half bat-screech.

Steve stills, then, but doesn’t back away. Doesn’t move his own hands from Eddie’s face. His own face softening, like, like…

Maybe he didn’t expect his first name, versus his last name. Maybe he didn’t expect Eddie’s voice at all, nevermind bastardized like this. Maybe he…didn’t expect Eddie to remember his name at all, maybe he sees the changes, maybe he...

Whatever he sees. He can’t possibly…understand.

“I’ve come to kill you.”

Eddie thinks he means it to come out pleading. The beast that’s not him wants it somewhere between a threat and a promise.

It ultimately lands flat. Almost tired.

Steve just tilts his head, the gorgeous moron.

“That’s what you’ve decided?” Steve runs a thumb across Eddie’s scared cheekbone; “or that’s what you were told?”

Eddie stills. Screams in his own mind. The Kas-beast snarls; writhes, howls.

“So much to tell you, now,” Steve leans closer, runs a thumb along Eddie’s lower lip, exposes the fangs Eddie knows are pointing lethal from the top; “so much, baby, we—“

Eddie’s hands move without his own conscious choosing; yet he Kas-beast doesn’t even seem to know what the body they share is aiming on doing as it pushes Steve into the nearest surface: the bed, folding Steve at the knees back onto the mattress and falling to straddle his hips, the claws drawing red lines on Steve’s skin, the glow of it almost precious, the dotting of stars Eddie can’t see down below; the temptation of it delicious, the beasts in him all ravenous, his own and the interloper alike just…

Different kinds of ravenous as Steve’s chest rises and falls beneath him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Eddie whispers, sandpaper over ice, like the low pitch will hide the words from the enemy; “but he will end me if I come back without your head.”

Which ‘he’ Eddie means isn’t clear, even to himself. Which enemy is uncertain.

But Steve’s cheat just rises, falls. He doesn’t pull away from the dig of claws into the skin of his arms, the gloves of his shoulders—leans into it further, in fact. Like he wants Eddie to break, and the beast that isn’t his to win out, to fulfill its mission, its purpose but how could he? He can’t want to die—

The human heart left in Eddie’s chest skips: Steve did throw himself to danger. In the stories Eddie barely believed before and in the flesh of it all, here and now. What if, what if—

“Oh darling,” Steve coos, and it’s not, it’s not blind to the danger, or the horror. His hand reaches back to the spaces Eddie knows his wings burst free from in agony and traces the scarred-up lines: “you half-died there weeks ago,” and none of it, he realizes, sounds lamenting. Or hesitant.

It’s almost…patronizing.

Steve blinks, and his eyes don’t darken like Eddie’s ever seen before; his voice pitches in a way that forgoes what’s left of Eddie and speaks straight to the foreign beast:

“I’ve learned what it means,” Steve, or, or: maybe the beast that lives in Steve Harrington, that maybe always did, that’s piquing something in the Kas-creature for its timbre, something that makes it draw back for the first time. That scares it, in a way Eddie can’t be quite scared, not by Steve and yet he’s trembling anyway, and the Kas-creature isn’t even vying for the blood beading where Eddie’s new-grown claws dig into Steve’s flesh—whatever is dark in Steve’s eyes, sharper than usual in his features, and glistening when the kids of his gaze close the wrong fucking way, blink side-to-side as Steve seems to sense it, like whatever’s in him seeks to snuff out the Kas-creature for Eddie’s sake like protection, almost possessive even but beyond that like it’s sough out less as a threat and more like a nuisance as Steve bares his teeth and Eddie’s still straddling him, but he feels no sense of control, of power, here, as Steve circles a vice grip on Eddie’s wrists, their own sharp edges more like a firm caress somehow before Steve hisses again:

“I’ve learned what it means to live there,” and he sneers, and Eddie feels almost wholly himself, almost his human heart alone threatening to burst for the way it pounds when Steve’s teeth reveal themselves like the mouth of a whale, the soft sifting parts just razor sharp behind Steve’s lips.

And it really just feels like Eddie, then, above Steve but wholly at the mercy of him and his beasts alone, and maybe they were some of what Steve had said he’d wanted to tell him—so much baby, so much to tell you now—as Steve blinks wrong again and snarls, like life stripped raw:

“For years.”

🖤

For @medusapelagia, who requested 'Dark AU' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson

divider credits here

[blushweddinggowns]

Idea expanded, overtly adorable and protective Kas Eddie with established relationship Steddie.

Steve is obviously devastated when they find Dustin and Eddie. But he refuses to leave his body there, despite how horrifying and time-consuming it is to take his boyfriends dead body back up to the surface. And Steve just spirals, reduced to a crying mess that can barely do anything but sleep most days. And Eddie's body is sent to the morgue.

Where he wakes up at. He wakes up in a cold cabinet, horrified and confused. And what woke him up was the noise. The wet, squelching noises of his body knitting itself back together. But it's not just fixing itself. It's changing. And adding things that Eddie doesn't understand. But it fucking hurts.

And Eddie starts to freak the fuck out. He manages to kick open the cold locker he's in and he's still freaking out. Because now he realizes he's in a morgue. But he's not dead damn it. But he's different. And confused and scared and all he wants is Steve.

So he goes to him. And that's how Steve almost dies of a heart attack when a naked freezing should be dead Eddie taps on his window at three am. But he let's him in, of course he lets him in. He's so happy to see him he doesn't even question how huh maybe letting in your dead boyfriend who now has black veins, wings, a tail, and upside down looking scars is not a good idea.

But common sense doesn't matter because all Eddie does is hug him and cry. And it takes a while for both of them to calm down. But when they do Steve starts asking questions, none of which Eddie can answer. But it doesn't matter because he's here. And he's different and weird, but he's still him.

But he is different. Stronger, scarier, with teeth that can sharpen and nails that can morph into claws. And he's also more...touchy. And protective. And is glued to Steve's side, doing weird shit like smelling and licking him in random places, and nibbling on the back of his neck. And it takes Steve a minute to realize that he can freaking purr now. Not that Steve's complaining. He'd live in Eddie's lap forever if it meant he got to be with him.

Steve doesn't tell anyone at first because he's afraid someone might rightfully make the point that being in love with a maybe demon was not a good call. But the Party finds out anyway when they realize he's no longer sobbing every ten seconds. Everyone takes it well enough, even if they have to get used to Eddie involuntarily growling at them whenever they got close to Steve. But they figure it out. And now they have someone who isn't Eleven who can kill upside down monsters with ease which is a plus.

Even if he does this weird thing where he drops nearly every demon corpse he gets his hands on at Steve's feet for praise, always purring like the hybrid monster cutie he is when Steve tells him how good he is at protecting all of them and thanks him with a kiss, the bitter taste of black demon blood in Eddie's mouth be dammed.

[rambamthxman]

"Perfect is when there’s nothing wrong or bad. It’s good, lovely, beautiful, everything you want."

A lil doodle of Lil Bit from You're Divine by Oonionchiver (@azrielgreen ) on AO3!!

I fucking LOVE this fic with my entire soul and I really wanted to draw so many lil bits (pun intended) but this is the first thing I was compelled to doodle! The way Eddie sits on Steve's counter and watches him with those moonstone eyes 💕

Thank you for writing one of my favorite fics of all time, Az!! 🫶🏼💕