#Puppet Master fic

[formosusiniquis]

public broadcast morticia, platinum record gomez

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson wc: 3.9k | T | @stevieweek day 3: horror/princess; transfem!stevie; post-canon; getting back together AO3

Stevie shuts the prop book in her lap slowly, allowing the scene to transition out of the story animation and back to real life. For the seconds it is in frame, the red cloth-bound cover of the prop stands out in stark contrast against the gold and black of her skirt. The camera pans slowly back up to her face.

“That would be scary, wouldn’t it?” she asks her future viewing audience. “To wake up one morning and not recognize who you are.”

Wings beat, and a grey tentacle wraps around her shoulder. Robin clicks and coos, moving the demobat puppet in time with the noises. She's probably asking a real question, but Sevie hasn’t picked up much of the language she’s invented for her puppet.

It’s all scripted anyway.

“I agree, Demi. Not having an adult to go to makes it scarier. But wasn’t it brave to keep going even though he was scared?”

Robin chirps and squeaks again. Flapping the puppet’s wings with the special pull cord, she maneuvers the bat around the stage to make it look like Demi is flying.

“Of course, Demi, I’ll always be someone safe for you to go to. I love you.”

Her eyes sting as she says it. God, she cries so much more easily these days. Fucking hormones.

The puppet shivers and shakes in a full-bodied chirp. I love you too.

A howl sounds from just outside the room. Signaling the end of this segment and the start of the next one. 

“Dart must hear someone at the door! Let’s see who’s come to visit.”

The pace is her favorite part of the show. Slow, easy. All done as much as possible in one smooth take. Stevie pushes herself up from the dark-patterned wingback chair, smoothing down her skirt, she walks from one room of the set to the other. The camera trails her, giving Robin a chance to move throughout the specially designed paths that keep her out of frame while she’s holding the Demi puppet.

Unlike Demi, Dart doesn’t that closely resemble his namesake. That was for the feds more than the children. Demi had some aesthetic changes to make her look more friendly, rounded body and visible eyes. Dart was changed fundamentally. Instead of the puckered fleshy face, Stevie can run a hand through sparse fur between two pointed ears. The animatronics Dustin helped their puppet master build let them move, giving the whole face more subtle movement than the other puppet is capable of. Good for the larger, German Shepherd-sized build. Even if the focus of the camera is usually on the face, the top jaw dog, wire-haired and angular, and beneath its pink nose, a split bottom jaw that opens in two wide, distinct joints. More cute than dangerous when a long forked tongue lolls out from it.

As Stevie’s thick rubber heels thunk against the floor of the set, Dart’s pit bull stump tail wags in its excitement at her approach. Back from college, Dustin is operating it today. He maneuvers the body so it faces her now that she’s come to get the door. The charmingly dumb look on its face gets her every time — a grin she has to school back to a more appropriately sized smirk. 

From off stage, someone cues Dart’s reminding bark.

“Has our guest arrived, Dart?”

Dart can nod when Dustin operates it. Always more sure than the rest of them about the intelligence that lurked beneath those demo creatures. Still, someone once again makes the appropriate answering cue.

Robin is standing outside the set, positioning Demi in a window. She chirps and flaps, Stevie’s cue to begin introducing who is behind the door.

“Today’s scary job will have us confronting our glossophobia, that’s our fear of public performance. If your palms get sweaty when you answer a question at school or you think about throwing up when you have a piano recital, we picked this job to give you a special scare.”

Never a theater kid, Robin teases her at how quickly she’s picked this up. Her cues, like this one to open the door, are always hit. She knows exactly what her face is doing, the way her dark lips hint at a smile, and the way the dark of her makeup makes something dangerous and anticipatory flash in her eyes. She’s yet to have a guest not spook just a little when the door swings open. The danger that she used to be humming under her skin was obvious to them when the sound and light cues hit, making the stage flash and sound with lightning and thunder.

It’s one of the joys of the job.

The outside of the “house” is dark, a dual-purpose choice to hide the sound lot that pairs with how nice it looks in post to have the first glimpse of their guest be in that horror movie strobe.

“Welcome home,” she says as always to the blackness outside her door. Thunder booms first, then lightning streaks, and she’s looking at someone who shouldn’t be here. “Eddie Munson, front man of the band Corroded Coffin.”

She steps numbly out of the way, letting Eddie through her door. 

Six years.

Dart rubs its head against her skirt, a move that would be accompanied by a whimper if it were able to make its own sound effects. As it is, she takes the comfort she can get from Dustin. Robin makes a trill; she's not a good enough actor to disguise the nerves in it.

It’s too much to deal with, so as with all things, she decides it’s better not to. There’s a procedure here, a routine. Stevie turns on her heel and starts walking to the set they’re supposed to be on. Eddie can fall into step behind her or, hell, maybe she’ll get lucky and he’ll run away. He’s always been good at that.

Stalking is what she’s doing; it might be what Eddie did too, to find his way over here. Hers means she’s moving too fast through the set for the pace they’re setting, the emotions she’s feeling moving her body like a rocket through the familiar frame of her pretend house. Eddie’s means he’s ruined her fragile peace.

It’s a real multifaceted word. Maybe they should use it for a show. Maybe they could get a zookeeper to bring a big cat on, too.

Eddie finds the guest’s seat at the table, sitting down across from her at the kitchen island, ruining the slight lift of her mood at the plans for a new episode with his continued presence.

He’s already got his hands in the spread on the table. Fingers smudged with the dyed red frosting, pinching a brownie carved into a coffin shape. It looks garish in the bright light of this set. The kitchen, the only set she refused to bow to the other aesthetics of the house. It unnerves instead in its rich, pastel, Stepford glory. Eddie looks just as out of place here -- even with the spiderweb detailing on the cabinets -- as he did in her kitchen in Hawkins.

“Good evening, Eddie,” she says what she’s supposed to say.

His mouth is full, his answer muffled in rich chocolate she baked herself before shooting.

“Why don’t you tell us about your band? I’m a big fan of your guitarist, Jeff Best.”

Jeff, the person who was supposed to be on the sound stage when she opened the door. The band member she had approved of, after being told by producers how enthusiastically the band had been supporting the show. How they wanted on, desperately.

She asks, “What’s the scariest part of your job?”

And asks, “Isn’t it frightening performing in front of thousands and thousands of people?”

And asks, “Are you ever afraid the stage will collapse?”

And asks, “Pyrotechnics are fires and fireworks that can be done inside, but aren’t you worried that something might go wrong?”

This segment has always been less of an interview and more of an exploration of worst-case scenarios. The things that frighten, the accidents that end up on the news, but rarely ever happen. A way to show the kids who tune in that the world can be scary, but it’s usually not. That fear of the coulds shouldn’t be the thing that keeps them from trying.

But she flings these worst cases at Eddie like knives, like saying they might manifest into coming true.

But each interview always ends the same way.

“What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever overcome?”

Eddie spins a chocolate eyeball around on the white china plate. It blurs with the movement until it’s just a white sphere moving around and around the border of fine, red blood splatter. Is he trying to figure out how to skirt his NDA? Is he inventing some stage diving accident or bar fight? Some story that will make him sound like the worldly rockstar the world knows him as?

Sure, he’s softened his aesthetic for this appearance. The only leather is his jacket. His wide-legged black pants, with the red and black brocade vest, straddle the line between professional and showman.

But he’s still Eddie, dungeon master drama queen to the last.

“The scariest thing I’ve ever done?” he repeats. Incorrectly to that point, done implies it’s scary because of his fuck up, overcome implies it’s the world. They’d workshopped the wording of that final question for days before her first interview.

Eddie continues, because if there’s one thing he’s going to do it’s continue whether she wants it or not. “The scariest thing I’ve ever done is go attempt to make amends with someone that I hurt very badly and hope that she’s good enough to forgive me.”

She’s supposed to ask a follow-up here, but she really doesn’t want to.

“Some of those were in the present tense, Mr. Munson.” She’s borrowing words from Robin now, stealing them from somewhere in her soulmate's brain because all Stevie knows is a blank rage that she hopes isn’t in her eyes.

That’s bad television.

“You’re right. The going has happened, the attempt is ongoing, and the fear is in both.”

A clock’s chime fills the room. Loud, sourceless, she’s taken to thinking of it like a school bell, and that’s better than remembering a grandfather clock and Max’s broken legs. Eddie flinches back, not that big a fan of the show apparently. Midnight ends every episode.

“Time sure flies, doesn’t it, Eddie?” A thump comes from behind them, a spot on the third wall out of the sight of the framing of their primary camera. Robin in position for her favorite job.

Stevie gives her her cue, “Gordon?” Robin, on her mark and her applebox, brings down the thick, fleshy, grey hand with the too-long fingers and the blackened nails onto Eddie’s shoulder. It’s weighted at the front, dislodges Eddie from his seat, and jostles him backward. “Introduce Eddie to the others? I know he’s just dying to stay for a while.”

Hand in place on Eddie’s shoulder, all Robin has to do is pull and he’s stumbling off stage like he’s on a vaudeville hook.

She blinks slowly, wills her blood pressure down. Her heart has been thumping in her ears since she laid eyes on Eddie, and even now that he’s technically off camera, she still can’t let go of her rage.

But there’s a show to finish, and she’s going to do her job. She can ignore Eddie’s big, brown eyes that somehow manage to haunt her even in the dark beyond the camera. She can turn down the camera, face it head-on.

She can. She does. “And don't forget: you're smarter than you think, braver than you feel, and you always have a friend right here. Until next time.”

She’s moving even before she can hear the director call, “Cut.”

“Whose fucking idea was this?”

“Not me,” Robin answers, gleeful at Stevie’s rage. She’s got Eddie still pinned in place with her long arm.

“Listen, Stevie, baby.”

“Nope,” Robin says, popping that P and giving Eddie a shake.

Not that anyone but Stevie would have heard that over the way she yells, “You don’t get to call me that.”

“Eddie, dude, not that it’s not good to see you, but I talked to Jeff,” Dustin comes out from the set with his hands already raised.

“And I saw that, Henderson, but don't fret, I wasn't offended. I figured you wouldn't mind if I remedied the situation myself.”

“Never let it be said you've ever learned a single lesson the easy way, Munson,” Robin says.

“Yes, and I'll be glad to catch up with you about that, Buckley. And with you, Henderson. But right now, I would love a moment with the talent. Stevie?”

It's on her tongue to say no again. To send him packing, the quest failed. Let him turn it into some ballad of spurned love and wretched harpies; she doesn't care.

But she doesn’t. She doesn’t. She says, “Five minutes.” And stalks off toward her dressing room.

He doesn't jingle anymore. That strikes her somewhere in the chest. The sound of his trailing behind her, the same melody as hers, told in a round: thick rubber heels on a concrete floor.

She sits down at her vanity and starts stripping off the thick paint of her on-camera makeup. As she slathers on cold cream, she can see Eddie find a seat on the coffee table. It throws her back to that last summer together, getting caught in her mother’s bathroom by a boy she liked in ways she didn’t know how to say yet.

The more things change.

“Listen, Stevie.” It’s funny how she can still tell when he’s started a sentence, not knowing how he plans to end it.

“You came all this way and you didn’t think about how you wanted to actually apologize? Did you get so lost in the drama of crashing my set that you didn’t think of what would happen when it was over?” She keeps her eyes on him in the mirror as she says it, moving through her routine like usual. With each condemnation, she takes her hand towel and wipes a little bit more of Stevie, Princess of the Dark, away until she’s bare-faced, annoyed, and just Stevie Henderson again.

“No,” he lies. “I mean, maybe. Look, Steph, for what it’s worth.”

She grabs her normal makeup, the lightweight stuff that doesn’t have to look good to the limited eye of the camera or sell a character that she’s only sometimes.

“It’s not worth a lot, Eddie. Let me try to save you some time. We finally gave in and gave the band the time of day, you leapt in ass first without a plan, because I’m Princess of the Dark, Princess Stevie, Lady Stevie of the Night, whatever the fucking branding has decided this week so I’ve got the image now. I’m not some baby freak borrowing wardrobe pieces from her socialite mom and her dyke best friend, I’m the right kind of metal that perpetual bachelor, frontman Eddie Munson can be seen with now. Does that about cover it?”

“No, no, Stevie, I swear.”

She can’t even slam down what’s in her hands. The stupid spongy applicator from her eyeshadow would get lost, and if she breaks another one of the eyeshadow colors, she’ll lose her mind. Setting it down gently does nothing to temper the absolute, white out emotion she’s feeling.

“You swear? You swear. The way you swore nothing would change. The way you swore you’d leave on tour and come back with nothing but stories and homesickness. That was the tour that you called me from Wichita to tell me you weren’t coming home, and you didn’t think it would work out if we tried to stay together. In case you forgot.”

“It’s not-”

“This was after you told me you didn’t want me to come when I offered. That it would be stupid of me to leave my -- easily abandoned -- job at the record store. But why would you want the idiot you’re about to leave playing merch girl as you wandered through the Midwest.”

“Are you finished?”

She’s got brown eyeshadow on one eye, her cheeks are pinked, and it’s not from blush. She’s pretty far from done. “That foot-in-mouth condition ended up being terminal, I guess.”

“Stevie.”

She can’t storm out if her eyes aren’t done. A half-done face is one thing, but it’s at least got to be even.

“Stevie, you’re getting mentioned in the same sentences as Elvira, R.L. Stine. You’re Sesame Street if the face was the Count and not Elmo. That’s you, that’s all you. It’s something you created from the ground up with nothing but your charm and vision, and yeah, stunning good looks and a little bit of black mailing the United States government.

“If you had come with us back then, you know what you’d be? My muse, sure. You’d be the merch girl that people whisper about, and wonder how many of the band members she’s sleeping with to get to play groupie. They’d find out things about you, and if you were lucky, they’d just make your life miserable.”

She can’t believe this. “Are you really trying to pull some ‘I left you to keep you safe,’ that is the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Her face is done, she could leave. She’s given him more than the five minutes she promised. 

But then Eddie’s standing. No, he’s collapsing, off the table to her feet. Hands clutched in her skirt, looking up at her from the floor. “You’re right, it wasn’t about you. It was about me being the same coward I‘ve always been. You know what I’m most afraid of, Steph? That one day you would wake up in our rank ass tour bus and you would resent me for trapping you and all of your potential.”

The vanity counter bites into the meat of her hands. “It took you six years to come here and say that.” 

“Yeah, yeah, it did. And it was too long and it wasn't long enough. I would wait forever, Steph. It’s about who you are, not what you’ve become.”

“You’re contradicting yourself, Teddy.” He’s trapped her here, kneeling on her skirt the way he is. “Either you left so I could fill my full potential, which is pretty fucking bold to assume that everyone had that itch to leave Hawkins the way you did and that I wouldn’t have been just fine waiting tables or rewinding video tapes for the rest of my life. But it’s that or you love me no matter what, and it wouldn’t matter if I hung up the witch's broom.”

She’s feeling generous, and she likes how big and wide his cow eyes get when he’s desperate. It reminds her of different times. Eddie’s hand pulls hers off the vanity, and she lets him keep it. Let him pull it close to his chest. He’s probably imagining he’s some knight pledging some oath, and fuck even imaginging what he’s thinking endears her just a little bit more to him.

Letting him in was always going to be a mistake.

She’s never held a grudge as well as Robin.

“There isn’t anything you could do that would make me want you less.”

Still, in the last six years, she’s learned that even though she loves too hard and too long, sometimes it’s more important that she protect her heart. Like her head, it can’t take too many more beatings.

“You want a burger. You want a new record. You want a quick fuck with someone who knows what they’re doing. Wants are quick and fleeting, and sometimes they aren’t even that good. I can’t be a want, Eddie.”

He clutches her hand tighter. He drops his hold on her skirt so his other hand can grab her at the elbow instead. “Stevie, I need you. And if you send me packing, I’m still gonna need you. You’re it. You’re just- you’re it.”

“And if I didn’t follow you on tour, like some love-sick groupie? If I stayed here with the show, you couldn’t see me for weeks and months. You’d still need me?”

“Like air. I’ll call, I’ll write, I’ll come in and compose. I can be your first recurring guest or handle a puppet. Anything at your order.”

She can feel herself caving. Like a sink hole in her chest, the ground giving way to nothing but a yawning starvation. It’s been years, and she’s sunk all of her love and her care and the desperate need she has always had to be seen into this show. It was good, but there has always been so much of her to give.

So she spits back the worst thing he ever said to her.

“And I’m not just some stand-in for Chrissy Cunningham.”

She expects him to drop her arm. To scurry away like some frightened mouse now that the claws of the cat have dropped in front of it. To remember that before the tits and the smirky face she patterned off of Elvira, she was still always a mean girl.

The quiet collapse of Eddie’s face is less satisfying than the rage, the sadness in his eyes more like a kicked dog than an international rockstar.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” He says.

She could echo it, but hers needed to be said.

“If I thought you hated me, it was easier to leave. I could make you just one more thing I fucked up. I don’t see her when I look at you.”

She scoffs, and he pulls her closer.

“I don’t, Steph, I don’t. You’re not some damsel I couldn’t save. You’re the knight who rescued me. Let me make my oath, let me prove myself.”

“I want a new theme song. Something catchy, not metal. And you’re going to come on and do a special segment on the show about dealing with scary things, in terrible corpse makeup. Stop smiling, it’s not going to be fun.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it wretched.”

“I’m going to make you confront all the stupid shit you’re scared of and if you don’t act scared enough I’m going to bring in the rest of the band and tell them you’re the reason this is happening to them.”

“Gareth hates spiders, and Freak is scared of clowns.”

“And I want Jeff on the show. I had to cut out half of our interview questions about the things he’s had to face being black in the scene because you think you’re charming.”

He has the nerve to stand up, stepping on her skirt before he’s shoving his way into her space on the bench seat of her vanity. His hands are warm, fingers long and familiar as they curl around the curves she’s developed since they last saw each other.

“Whatever you want forever, Steph.” He whispers it into the side of her neck like he thinks he’s Gomez Addams, and she’s too weak to not be delighted.

“In that case, you can also explain all of this to Robin.”

“And when she kills me for wronging you?”

She grabs his chin between her fingers, lets her coffin-shaped nails dig into the stubbly skin until she can see the bite of pink crescent moons. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring you back. Everyone knows Miss Stevie is a witch.”

[charliebot-art]

That’s a real cute crush ya got there, Monty. Sure would be a shame if someone corrupted it into a single-minded obsession that ultimately destroyed you both :3

ive been listening to this song on repeat and i couldn’t get this out of my head, pls enjoy. and yes. there is a second part i wanna make *_* on my life, i promise it wont be as polished as this (also, yes, i know this is a my little pony song, im SORRY, i LITERALLY couldn’t help myself)

[aaaaaaaaaauu]

feeling so ill about the spamton

[ryan-waddell11]

guitarists just hit different

[el-moleskine-de-kusubana]

Let's Play

[Toy Story ⤮ Child's Play ⤮ Puppet Master] ¿Cuál es la responsabilidad del juguete a la cabeza de la cama? Cuidar de los demás juguetes, asegurarse de que las memorias de la infancia sean felices y, sobre todo, proteger a su niño, incluso de las almas malditas de los muertos.

✿Género: Aventura, Terror

✿Personajes: Woody, Chucky, Blade

✿Tipo: Canon Divergente, Crossover

✿Estado: En progreso

✿¿De qué va? ¿Que un juguete tenga emociones, sentimientos y vida en general es tierno o no? Depende de la perspectiva, desde luego. Antes de consolidar su pandilla en el cuarto de Andy, Woody se embarca en una misión que, como juguete a la cabeza de la cama, está convencido de que le corresponde. Movido por un amor incondicional, está decidido a encontrar la manera de devolverle la inocencia a algunos juguetes malditos.

✿En FanfictionNet

✿En Wattpad

✿En Ao3

✿En portada Ilustración de Higurashi Workshop Studios (editada). Fondo, texturas, filtros y elementos varios recuperados de all-free-download. Tipografias: Terror2005 & Open Sans.

[totally-not-your-babe]

Hi guys!

I really need your help here. I'm having writer's block (that's what this is called?). I can't find to get myself to write most of the times and when I do, when I try I don't like the outcome...

What do you do when you can't seem to get yourselves write? Where do you get the inspiration?

(I was thinking about rewatching The Bad Batch and Stranger Things because these are the two fics I'm writing at the moment but I don't know.)

I really appreciate any help.

Thank you!

Have a lovely day!

[medicus-mortem]

[💀] - There are 2 new chapters to the angry teen Law fic!!! And this writer gets me because Law gets free of the seastone cuffs and gets his power back and not only does his Room activate without him calling on it but it starts breaking the world around him. Acting on his distress and pain and desperation. I love this shit!

[rain11-fic]

"i'll go to bed early"

1k words of a puppet master hualian pwp and 40 minutes later: damn

[crossbackpoke-check]

not 100% sure this is the post you mentioned not being able to find but it came across my dash and sounded similar! https[:]//www.tumblr.com/hyggles/739235236397875200/ohhh-philly-is-where-gay-love-goes-to-die-ohhh

^^ how i feel every time y’all answer me yapping in the tags… yes i love hyggles!!! honestly idek if the post i talked about was even here… it could’ve been one of morgan @/sweetestmint’s tweets from 2020-22… it might not even be real… but the SENTIMENT HERE. simply perfect. get a little dramatic with it!!! philly as the narrative crucible is 👌🧑‍🍳💋✨

[listenupneutrogena]

recommending my own fic!!

show it some love? i worked extremely hard on it 🥺

Master of Puppets - Eddie Munson

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 8,013 Warnings: flashing gif, fluff, flashback in italics; eddie has shoulder length hair, angst out the fucking ass, Requested: no | yes; Smut: no | yes; A/N: Hi, friends! I made a post about this fic, and received some postive feedback! Like I said in that post, I showed my daughter the Upside Down Concert scene, and I immediately saw Reader standing/sitting/squatting on top of the trailer. If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

eddie munson masterlist

You never thought you’d be going into the Upside Down again. But, here you are in a big ass grassy area with your boyfriend, Eddie. As well as your brother Dustin, Nancy, Robin and Steve, the Sinclair siblings, and Max. You had been roped into the adventures of the Upside Down ever since the beginning.

Steve and Nancy were a part of the adventures from the beginning, Max joined during Dart’s adventure, Robin and Erica joining you lot last year. Now, your boyfriend was a part of this adventure; The Adventures of Vecna, as you liked to call it. 

You watched as Eddie and Dustin hammered some nails into a couple of tin garbage can lids. 

“So, how did you two end up together?” Dustin asked. “Neither of you really talked about it.”

You looked at Eddie and he at you, a small smile on his face before he went back to hammering. “Well, she caught my eye when I was sophomore, a scared little freshman-”

“I wasn’t scared!” you exclaimed.

Both boys chuckled at your exclamation before Eddie continued. “Okay. Not scared, but… confused. She was confused. Not knowing where to go. I walked up to her as she was looking at her schedule like she was mad at it.”

“When he walked up to me, I got scared. Like, jumping out of my skin, scared. I didn’t know he was walking up to me, despite all the chains he was sporting.” You chuckled at Eddie’s smile. He was proud of his chains. 

“It was loud and busy with all the freshmen trying to make their way around,” he chuckled. Going back to his task, he cleared his throat. “Anyway. I showed her where her locker was and looked at her schedule, seeing that most of her classes were near mine.”

“He took me to every single one,” you smiled, remembering that day as if it were yesterday.

“I saw her at one of the lunch tables, sitting alone with a book in her hands as she ate lunch. I ditched my friends to go and talk to her, but she didn’t talk back.”

“So, Eddie, here, had slipped a note into my locker after lunch, telling me to meet him in the woods right behind the school.” You were taken back to that day as Eddie explained your meeting in the woods.

Walking around in the woods was something you never found yourself doing, but here you were. In the woods. After school. To meet a boy. A cute boy with shoulder length hair, wearing a denim jacket and black jeans. The very same boy that you were thinking about appeared out of nowhere in the woods, scaring you.

He held up a hand, a smile on his face as he said, “Sorry.”

With a hand over your heart, you exhaled, trying to get your heartbeat back to normal. “No, that’s okay. You’re fine. It’s my fault, really, for getting scared. I didn’t hear you walk up.”

“You didn’t hear the leaves?”

Shaking your head, you tried to hold back a smile. “Nope.”

He tried to hide his own smile as he looked off to the side a little. “I’m Eddie, by the way. Eddie Munson.  I don’t know if I told you my name at lunch.”

You shook your head again, lips between your teeth. “Nope, but it’s very nice to meet you, Eddie. I’m Y/N Henderson.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, M’lady Henderson.”

A giggle erupted from your throat, your hand flying to your mouth to try and conceal it. Looking over to the picnic table, you gestured over to it, asking Eddie if he wanted to sit down and talk, to which he agreed.

Eddie could swear that by hearing you laugh, he wanted to hear it forever. As the two of you sat down, you looked at his shirt, seeing the words Hellfire Club on it with some type of dice, a sword, a demon head and morning star weapon.

“What’s Hellfire Club?” you asked.

Looking down at his shirt, Eddie explained, “Oh, it’s this club I started last year.”

You raised a brow, your interest piqued. “What kind of club?”

“D&D.” When he looked back up at you, he saw a very confused look on your face. Chuckling, he said, “Dungeons and Dragons. It’s a fantasy board game.”

“Wait, with like, monsters and shit?”

Letting out a light laugh while looking down at the table, Eddie said, “Yeah. With monsters and shit.”

Bringing your arm up to the table, you rested your elbow on the tabletop, resting your chin in your hand. “I think my little brother is trying to get into it. Him and his little friends keep talking about it.”

“You have a little brother?” Eddie asked.

Nodding, you smiled a little. “I do. He’s annoying, like most younger siblings are, but I’m more than grateful to have him. He’s the missing piece my mom and I didn’t know we needed.”

Eddie wanted to know more about you. “What about your dad?” Waving him off, you replied, “Eh, he’s deadbeat. Well, not really. He just… took off not long after Dustin was born.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine. He was an asshole anyway, from what I can remember.” You looked into Eddie’s eyes and wanted to know about him instead of talking about yourself. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

“There’s not much to say, really. My dad’s in prison, and my mom died when I was young.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you said, hesitantly reaching your hand across the table. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

He looked at your hand before timidly putting his hand on yours, instantly finding comfort. Eddie was fifteen and you were fourteen, but that didn’t stop the tingles that shot through both of your hands. 

Flipping your hand over, you watched as Eddie lightly traced random shapes into your palm. “You know, uhm, this isn’t the first time we’ve… hung out.”

Confused as ever, you looked at him with scrunched eyebrows. “No?”

Stopping his fingers, he looked at you, asking, “You don’t remember?”

Trying to rack your brain, your eyes danced all around; at his shirt, his rings, the trees behind him, the tabletop, but you ended up coming up short. “I’m sorry. I-”

“That’s okay,” he said.

Watching as he looked past you for a moment, you wanted to say something that would help to put his mind at ease, but a gasp sounding from you had the words dying in your throat as Eddie pretended to stab himself in the heart, falling from the table bench.

“Oh, my god!” you exclaimed.

“I wouldn’t remember me either, Y/N,” Eddie said, standing up. Brushing the leaves from his body, you giggled, watching as he ran his fingers through his hair, asking, “Do I have something in my hair?”

It felt like forever since you genuinely laughed at someone being so silly. You weren’t used to it anymore. Hanging out with your best friend, Steve Harrington, would do that to you, especially when it came to watching his basketball practices and then heading straight home.

But laughing at Eddie’s antics felt natural, like you’d been doing it your whole life. You wanted to have that feeling for a long time with him. 

Bringing you out of your thoughts, Eddie asked, “You don’t remember me?” with his arms crossed, a small smile on his face.

Chuckling, you responded, “I’m sorry.”

“Middle school,” he said. “Talent show. You were doing this dance thing. Ya’know, the-” He shimmied, which caused you to giggle at him. “-thing that you do. It was pretty cool, actually. You were a really good dancer.”

“Still am,” you smiled. “I still dance.”

He smirked, saying, “And I… I was with my band.”

As if a bus hit you with realization, you gasped, holding your hands up before exclaiming, “Corroded Coffin!”

At the same time he punched his own hand and turned around, saying, “Corro– you do remember!” you were also saying, “Oh, my god! Yes, of course! With a name like that, how could I forget? You guys introduced me to metal!”

“I knew it,” he said, coming back to the table to lean on the top, your foreheads almost touching. “You’re a freak.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Thanks to you. But you just… you looked totally-”

“Different? Yeah, well, my hair was buzzed and I didn’t have any tattoos yet.”

“You have tattoos?” you asked, almost too excitedly.

“One.” Shifting on the bench to face his right arm towards you, he lifted his sleeve, showing a two legged dragon. “It’s called a wyvern. It’s a creature from D&D.”

Leaning on the table with a small smile, you brought your hand up to trace the outside of his permanent ink. “It looks creepy, but it’s cool. But you’re a minor. How did you get it?”

Slowly pulling his sleeve back down as you sat back on the bench, he sighed. “My dad. Said he wanted to give me a birthday present to remember. So, he took me to the tattoo shop last year for my fourteenth birthday, and said to pick out any design they had. I ended up talking to the tattoo artist about D&D for a little while. The dude said he would tattoo something, and out came this.”

“Is that how you got into D&D or had you been into it for a while before that?” you wondered.

“Was into it for a little while. Where I was at within the campaigns, I hadn’t come across the wyvern yet.” He looked you, something shining in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher. “Hey, thanks.”

“For what?” you asked, tucking your lips between your teeth.

Shrugging, he said, “For listening.”

Smiling, you said, “No problem. Now, back to the band thing. You played guitar, right?”

Eddie nodded, looking at your hand before reaching across the table to continue his shapes from earlier. “Still do. Still do.” He looked back into your eyes, seeing that they were already on him before he added, “You should come see us. We play at The Hideout on Tuesday’s.”

“Isn’t that a bar?” you asked.

“My uncle knows the owner,” he whispered, slightly narrowed eyes.

You nodded and breathed out a chuckle. “Okay.”

“It’s pretty cool. We actually get a crowd of about five… drunks.”

Laughing again, you couldn’t help but let yourself get immersed in the boy that was Eddie Munson. “Doesn’t seem like it’s Madison Square.”

“It’s not,” he agreed. “But you gotta start somewhere, right? So…”

After a moment of comfortable silence between the two of you, you couldn’t help but talk without your filter. “Ya’know, you’re not what I’d thought you’d be like.”

“Mean and scary?” he asked, quietly.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Yeah, well, I actually thought you’d be kind of mean and scary.” “Me?” you exclaimed.

“Terrifying,” he smiled. “What, with your quietness and reading and shit.”

All you could do was look at him, a small smile on your lips. The two of you talked until you could hear the distant ringing of your name being called, Eddie being kind enough to walk you to the edge of the woods, where Steve was waiting for you.

Turning to Eddie, you placed a hand on his arm and said, “I had a nice time, Eddie. Really.”

Grabbing your hand, Eddie wrapped your fingers around his before he bent and kissed your knuckles, a smile on his face as he replied, “Until next time, m’lady.”

After that day in the woods, you two hung out on Tuesday nights, and when you weren’t hanging out with Steve. Before long, the two of you were a couple. Hearing the whispers about you two didn’t bother you at all. Eddie made you realize that you didn’t care what others thought about you.

You still dressed in what he would call your “preppy” clothes, and he still dressed in his. The moment he let you wear his denim jacket on a date because you were cold, you stole it and never returned it. He didn’t mind, though, because for your very first Christmas together, you had bought him the exact jacket he gave you.

He ended up cutting the sleeves off of it and glued something about Dio on the back of it, band buttons on the front of it with a patch that you had ironed on for him.

Your parents weren’t too thrilled that you were dating Eddie. They wanted you to date Steve instead, but you protested, as well as Steve, to the point where your parents relented. You ended up turning into a little bookworm, as Eddie had given you a few books he thought you’d enjoy. Now, here you two were, five years later, still together, still going strong. 

As Eddie told Dustin the story, he had finished hammering the nails into the tin garbage lids. He stood, grabbing the one he was working on.

“How’s she feeling?” Dustin asked.

Turning and holding out his makeshift shield, Eddie replied, “Light,-” before holding the lid nail side down, saying, “-but durable.” Holding it out again, he added, “Deadly,-” before lowering it to add, “-but reliable.”

You and Dustin laughed at Eddie’s antics, something you fall even more in love with about him. With an ever dramatic voice as he propped his foot on the crate he’d been sitting on, Eddie reached out a hand towards Dustin, saying, “Hear me now. There will be no more retreating…” Going back to his own voice, he looked at you and said, “...from Eddie the Banished.”

Standing up with his own makeshift shield, Dustin said, “Hey, you’re really ready for bat-tle.”

You and Eddie looked at each other before casting your eyes over to Dustin, as he chortled. “You get it?”

did i forget to mention that your little group minus the younger teens had jumped into lovers lake after steve and ended up having your own little adventure in the upside down? no. oh. well. ya’did!

“Bat-tle.” As Dustin looked at yours and Eddie’s please explain looks, he sighed out, “B-A-T. No?”

Eddie looked at you before he handed you his shield as Dustin set his down, saying, “I thought it was a good one,” before your boyfriend all but tackled him with a playful yell, the younger teen caught off guard. “What are you doing?!”

You had to drop the shield as Eddie pushed your brother towards you, your hands coming up to his back to stop him from running into you. He stood up straighter before saying, “Son of a bitch!” before charging at Eddie, who let out another playful yell.

Laughing out loud, you watched as your boyfriend reached down to give your brother a wedgie, who protested by saying, “No wedgies! No wedgies!”

They both stood up straighter, Eddie’s hands on either side of your brother, saying, “Never change.” They both looked at each other as he said, “Dustin Henderson.”

You walked over to them, moving the hair that was in Eddie’s mouth right before he added, “Promise me?”

As if he were getting emotional, Dustin said, “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good,” Eddie said. “Good.” He looked over at you and kissed you before turning towards the Sinclairs, saying, “Hey, Sinclair’s! How are those, uhh… spears coming on?”

Watching as Lucas gave a thumbs up, you chuckled when you noticed the look on Erica’s face. Shaking your head, you looked down at the shields, your smile falling fast. Dustin noticed before Eddie did, your brother walking over to you and putting a hand on your shoulder.

“What’s up, sis?” he asked. He looked at your waterline, seeing tears lining them. Looking over at Eddie, he whispered his name as a tear slipped down your cheek.

“Baby?” Eddie said, standing in front of you. He cupped your cheeks, lifting your head as you took a shaky breath in. “Princess, what’s wrong?”

With your eyes dancing between his, you quietly asked, “What if we don’t make it out this time?” You grabbed his forearms, keeping his arms in place as you added, “What if one of us dies? I can’t… I can’t lose anyone else.” Gripping his forearms a little tighter, you said through gritted teeth, “Especially you.”

Shaking his head, Eddie said, “You’re not gonna lose me.”

“Do you promise me?”

He grabbed one of your hands after removing one of his from your cheek, bringing your hand to palm at his chest. “With my whole heart.” With the hand that was still cupping your cheek, he brought your face closer to his, sealing his promise with a kiss. 

Dustin cleared his throat, causing the two of you to break apart. You pressed your foreheads together, your eyes shut, Eddie’s still open as he quietly said, “I love you, princess.”

“I love you, too, Dungeon Master.”

“Okay, if you two can stop having a gross moment, can we practice a little bit?” Dustin asked.

Reluctantly, Eddie pulled away to grab his shield, practicing fighting the demobats as you watched them, giggles and chuckles sounding out of you as you did. You laughed when Eddie jumped over Dustin like a leap frog.

A little while later, everyone geared up with their weapons and battle clothes. Your group got back into the Winnebago, everyone quiet as the realness of what was to come started to set it. Steve was driving while Nancy sat next to him in the passenger seat. Erica, Lucas and Max sat in the kitchen/dining area. Dustin, Robin, you and Eddie sat in the very back. 

You were sitting between Eddie and Dustin, your arm around Eddie’s, your head resting on his shoulder as he had his hand resting on the inside of your thigh. You couldn’t help but play with the ring on his finger, it bringing the both of you some form of comfort.

Looking at Eddie, you weren’t surprised to see him already looking at you, tightening his hold on you just the slightest. You looked at Dustin, seeing the worry on his face. You knew he had the same concerns that you did, but he never voiced them. Grabbing his hand, you held on tight as he looked out of the window, the hold he was giving your hand was the same you had on his.

Steve eventually pulled up to the Creel house, letting Max, Lucas and Erica off before he drove you to a secluded area near the trailer park, Forest Hills, where you all ran through the phases one more time that Nancy had set in place.

Phase One: Meet Erica at the playground, where she’ll signal Max and Lucas.

Phase Two: Max baits Vecna.

Phase Three: you, Eddie and Dustin distract the bats. 

Phase Four: Flambe.

Once you were all sure of the plan and that no one was going to deter away from it, the six of you hopped off of the Winnebago to head to Eddie’s trailer, where Chrissy’s gate was. When you all reached the trailer, Steve went in first, everyone else following suit. 

When you walked in, you watched as Steve the makeshift rope that Dustin had made to bring you back from the Upside Down, flipping before landing on his feet.

“Ooooh, what does he want us to do, applaud?” Robin mocked.

You chuckled as you watched him place a mattress on the other side of the gate for safe landing. Nancy went next after dropping her backpack. As carefully as you and Dustin could, you both tossed their gear up into the gate, the backpack and gun landing on the mattress on the other side.

Eddie went next, smiling up at you, telling you to come on with the motion of his hand. With Robin and Dustin’s help, you climbed the rope before falling onto the mattress with your eyes closed, only to see Eddie right above you when you opened them. “Now this looks familiar.”

Chuckling, you playfully shoved him away, saying, “Keep it in your pants, Munson.”

He helped you up before his shield, Robin and her backpack, the spears and your brother came crashing down, Steve and Eddie grabbing his shirt and hoisting him up.

When you all exited the trailer, Steve turned around and said, “Hey, you two, listen.”

“Uhm, three,” you corrected, pushing your way between your brother and boyfriend.

“No, two. You’re coming with us.”

Crossing your arms, you said, “Like hell, I am.” He sighed your nickname before you interrupted him. “No, Steven. You don’t get to make that choice. Not this time. I need to stay with them.”

“Because of-” Steve started, only for you to interrupt him again by saying, “Because of them.” You walked towards Steve, placing your hands on his shoulders. “Look, I know my parents tried with us, and I know it’s what you wanted, too, but I can’t help the fact that I fell in love with Eddie. He’s never experienced this shit before. I need to be here to protect him. And Dustin.”

Sighing, he nodded. “Alright.” Steve looked back at Dustin and Eddie, but directed his next words at the three of you. “If things here start to go South, like, at all-” He looked at you as he said, “-abort. Okay?” Looking back at Dustin and Eddie, he added, “Draw the attention of the bats, keep them busy for a minute or two while we take care of Vecna.”

“Steve,” you whispered, tears lining your eyes.

“Don’t try to be cute or heroes or whatever. You three are just-”

“Decoys,” you and Dustin said.

Gaining Steve’s attention, you said, “Don’t worry, Steve. Can play the hero this time.”

“Absolutely,” Eddie said. “I mean, look at us. We are noooooooot heroes.”

Before Steve walked off with Nancy and Robin, he looked at you and his face softened. At the same time, the two of you hugged tightly. Squeezing each other the way you did as kids when his parents would fight. 

His attention was gained when Eddie called his name. You turned to look at him as he said, “Make him pay.”

When you turned back to Steve, you cupped his neck, his hands going to your triceps. “Be careful, or I swear to fuck, Steve, I will kill you myself.”

“I’ll be careful, love.” Resting his forehead against yours, he quietly added, “I promise.”

“You better,” you whispered. Pulling back to look into his eyes, you added, “I can’t live without my best friend.” 

Steve kissed your forehead before walking off with Nance and Robin right before you turned to Eddie and Dustin, walking straight for the love of your life, cupping his cheeks. 

“You’re my hero,” you said, eyes dancing between his. 

Eddie knew about your close relationship with Steve. When you two not-so-intimate like you just were, it did bother him a little, but he knew that nothing would come of it. Eddie knew you loved him, but he couldn’t help that pang of jealousy that he knew shouldn’t be there.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, princess.” He placed his lips on yours, your lips moving in sync for a moment before you both pulled away, knowing that if you kept going, your brother would be scarred for life.

Three of you got to work; cutting up chain-linked fences, gathering sheets of metal, posts, whatever you could get your hands on to start building a small shelter on the porch of the trailer, leaving one of the doors on the front clear for easy access. A ladder was leaning against it to the side so that you all could get up on the roof.

You looked at his trailer, backing up and taking Eddie with you, Dustin following. Once the three of you were back for enough, you looked at each boy, a smile forming on their faces. 

“Not bad,” Eddie said.

“Not bad at all,” Dustin agreed.

Eddie chuckled, tapping Dustin’s shoulder around our own before bringing you into his side, kissing the side of your head. “Now for the fun part.” He took you hand in his, all but dragging you into the trailer towards his bedroom, where he opened the door.

He stopped, almost making you run into him. “Babe, what the fu-”

“Jesus Chr-” he said. 

“Wha- oh, my god. Eddie,” you whispered, placing your hand on his shoulder. “She’s beautiful.”

“It’s like…” he said, walking towards his mirrored dresser. “...she was destined for an alternate dimension.” When he got closer, he said, “What do you say, Hendersons?” After grabbing his guitar, he turned around while asking, “Are you two ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world?”

You and Dustin looked at each other, smiling before you turned to Eddie, and said in unison, “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Putting the strap on his shoulder, Eddie looked at you again, before whispering, “Let’s do it,” and throwing the instrument over his shoulder.

For some reason, you were excited about Eddie putting on a little concert. You loved watching him play, so actually seeing him play wasn’t what was making you excited. It was the fact that you didn’t know what he was going to play.

It was decided after the three of you climbed onto the trailer's roof that this little concert would be dedicated to Chrissy Cunningham, the cheerleader that had, unfortunately, been Vecna’s first victim.

Eddie had told you that Chrissy came to him for some weed to help with the “voices” in her head; a voice that turned out to be Vecna trying to lure her into his trap… which ultimately worked, unfortunately. 

You’d met Chrissy because of you being on the dance team, having done football games and basketball games together. You considered her a friend before you and Steve graduated. Upon hearing about her death, you were obviously heartbroken. So, when Eddie asked if he could dedicate the concert to her, you quickly agreed to it, loving him even more than you already did.

Everyone thought that Eddie was this mean and scary freak, but the truth of the matter is, he was just a metalhead, fantasy game playing teddy bear with a heart of gold. Right after you plugged the cord into his guitar, you gave him a kiss, telling him to knock ‘em dead before standing next to your brother.

Robin’s voice came through the walkie-talkie saying, “She’s in. Move on to Phase Three.”

Dustin replied, saying, “Copy that. Initiating Phase Three,” before grabbing the cords, saying, “Let’s hope they hear this,” right before he plugged the amp into the extension cord.

Turning the amp all the way up, you looked at Eddie, who locked eyes with you as you blew him a kiss. “Chrissy,” he said, reaching for his guitar pick necklace, ripping the pick off. “This is for you.” Strumming the first chord of the song, he yelled out and you instantly knew the song he was playing; Master of Puppets by Metallica. 

You stood behind Dustin as Eddie played the first few notes of the song, placing your hands on his shoulders and headbanging along with your brother. Watching as Eddie had his concentration face on, you tried not to let your mind go there.

It was the same face he sported when you two fucked and he was trying to reach climax with you.

You did a couple little jumps, using Dustin to brace yourself when Eddie shook his head, something you loved seeing him do while he played. You looked forward to Tuesday nights because that meant you got to watch Eddie in his element, doing what he loves.

He walked closer to you and Dustin, bending the slightest bit as the three of you headbanged together to the beat of the song. When he got to the chorus, he propped his foot up on the smaller amp that was sitting near him, much like he did with crate hours earlier.

Dustin’s hand tapping your own had you looking down, seeing the binoculars in his hand. Taking them from him, you turned to face the woods, bringing them up to your eyes, not seeing the demobats yet. You turned back to Dustin, giving them back as Eddie tilted his head back, playing two notes for the word Master, two times, headbanging with Dustin.

When Eddie started playing the bridge of the song right before the guitar solo, yours and Dustin’s attention was brought to the shrieking of the demobats, your brother standing to look through the binoculars.

“Dusty!” you said, loud enough for him to hear.

“Thirty seconds!” he responded.

Turning to look at Eddie, you said, “Babe!” He looked at you, while playing your favorite part of the song. “Gotta lock down in thirty seconds!”

He curtly nodded at you, your attention caught in between his and Dustin’s.

“Twenty!” Dustin said.

“Babe, you got twenty seconds! Do the solo near the end!”

Wasting no time, Eddie got right into it as your anxiety started to show as you placed your hand on Dustin’s shoulder, who said ten not a moment later.

“Baby, ten!” Your eyes never left the bats as you and Dustin said, “Five!”

“One!”

You ran over towards Eddie as the notes started to fade out as he ended the song. 

“Babe, go!” Eddie yelled, gently pulling you to jump from the top of the trailer to the top of the truck below and into the bed. “Move! Move! Move!” he yelled at Dustin, the both of them following your lead as you jumped from the bed, turning around for a second.

“Y/N/N, get your ass in the house!” Dustin shouted as he ran past you.

Eddie grabbed your arms and turned you around to run around the side of the trailer, both of you stumbling into the makeshift shelter.

“Baby, shut it!” you shouted, Eddie doing exactly that; shutting the chain link door, putting a two by four on it at a diagonal to essentially lock it. Grabbing at his arm, you pulled him behind you as the bats slammed into the walls and door. “Baby, come on!”

When the two of you backed into the trailer, you stood in between him and your brother, taking deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself down. You and Eddie looked at each other at the same time before he took the steps he needed to get closer to you, your lips locking in heated exchange. You just chalked it up to the adrenaline. 

“Dude!” Dustin said, causing the two of you to break apart. “Most. Metal. Ever!”

The three of you jumped and cheered in excitement, Eddie picking you up and spinning you around, like he did every Tuesday night after his show when you’d meet him at the back of the bar.

When he set you down, he kissed you again, holding it for a moment before moving his lips against yours. 

“I hate-” Kiss. “-to break-” Kiss. “- this up-” Kiss. You lightly pushed him away, looking into his eyes. “Dungeon Master, I love you, but we are currently being swarmed by the very same bats that almost ate Steve.”

Coming back to reality, Eddie looked at Dustin, who already had their spears in his hands. Apparently, you didn’t have anything to protect yourself with because when you tried to make your own shield and had asked the Sinclair siblings to make you one, Eddie protested and said you didn’t need anything because he had said, “They’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

So, you were standing in the middle of two of them, their backs to you as they circled you, the bats continuing their swarming and shrieking. Every time they slammed back against the outside of the trailer, you jumped a little, which if we’re being honest, you were jumping a lot.

When the noises finally started to calm down, your brother thought that that was a good time to yell out, “Hey, dipshiiiiiiiiiiiits! Give up that easy, huh?!”

Covering his mouth, you shushed him. “I don’t plan on becoming demobat chow, Dusty, now shut the fuck up.”

Clattering above you gained all of your attention, your eyes being casted up towards the ceiling.

“They’re on the roof,” Eddie said.

“Baby, I love you, but now’s not the time to be a sarcastic shithead,” you whispered.

With all three of your attention on the roof, you followed the sounds of their walking, the phrase, “Shit, shit, shit,” spilling from yours and Dustin’s mouths with the occasional, “Fucking hell,” being spilled from yours.

Spotting where they were going, you spotted the vent in the kitchen. “Eddie,” you said, his response being an acknowledging hum. “I don’t think we covered the vent.”

“They can’t get in through there, can they?” Dustin asked.

Without missing a freaking beat, one of the bats broke the vent, sending the metal down to the ground, a gasp coming from Dustin, a scream coming from you, and silence coming from Eddie before they yelled out a battle cry and began stabbing the creature through the vent.

You had taken a couple of steps back when Eddie went around you, keeping your eyes on the creature they were stabbing, your breathing coming out in pants, your anxiety reaching max levels.

Eddie turned to face you, saying, “Babe, get out of the way!” to which you obliged, watching as he grabbed one of the chairs from the small table you were standing beside. “Get out of the way! Get out of the way!” he said, making his way towards Dustin. 

He stood on the chair with his nail shield, putting it in the ceiling to block the creatures from going inside, letting go after a second. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”

“Nice,” Dustin said.

“Thanks.”

They gave each other high fives, their attention being put on you when you exclaimed, “Hello?! Damsel in distress over here!”

“Sorry, babe,” Eddie said, jumping down from the chair and walking towards you. He wrapped you in a hug, the lingering scent of his cologne from two days prior calming you just the smallest bit.

“Are there any other vents?” Dustin asked, breaking your moment.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie breathed. He turned away, telling you to stay put as he grabbed his spear and went into his bedroom, Dustin following behind. You weren’t one to listen, so you followed, screaming when the creatures popped from the corner of Eddie’s room from the floor vent.

Turning toward you, Dustin pushed you back as Eddie backed out of his room, closing the door. The creatures started to claw their way through the door, Eddie and Dustin holding their spears, Eddie’s more so in protection before he grabbed Dustin’s shield.

“That’s not gonna hold!” you and Dustin screamed.

“Let’s go!” Eddie screamed. “Let’s go!”

Dustin started to climb up the sheets first, making it halfway up before you started climbing up, watching Eddie every so often. 

When you felt the sheets tug beneath you, you looked down, sighing in small relief when you watched Eddie start his climb. Your head made it through the Hawkins gate when you felt the sheets below you go slack.

You tried your best to look down, seeing Eddie reach for his protection, his name falling from your lips on a shout, trying your best to gain his attention. When you did gain it, he looked conflicted as he said, “I love you. So fucking much,” before cutting the sheets, sending you down into Hawkins with Dustin.

You screamed as you fell through, your front hitting the mattress as Eddie moved on the other side. When you stood up, you watched him shove the mattress away. “Babe! What the fuck are you doing?” you yelled, looking up at him. 

He looked up at you before saying, “I’m buying more time,” before walking away.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” you screamed, your throat feeling raw at the exertion. Looking at your brother, you said, hoarsely, “Dustin Wade, get me something to stand or climb up on.”

“Why?” he asked.

Looking back up into Upside Down Hawkins, you said, “Because I can’t let him die.”

“Move the mattress.”

As you moved it, he grabbed a chair from the table, setting it under the gate. After you climbed on it, you looked at your brother, cupping the side of his head as you said, “I love you, Dusty. Don’t… follow me,” before jumping up as hard as you could, grabbing onto the side of the gate before pulling yourself up.

You flipped yourself, dangling for a moment before dropping to your feet in a, what Dustin would call, heroic squat. When you heard Eddie’s voice, your feet started moving before you could even think about what to do.

Once you were outside, you heard him yell, “Come get me, you sons of bitches!” before you started moving once more towards him. You looked around for discarded bikes, but couldn’t see any, so you just… ran.

You can as fast your feet could carry you. Watching as a demobat knocked him off the bike, you ran even faster, which you didn’t think was possible. “EDDIE!” you yelled, seeing him roll on the ground before standing.

He looked at you for a slight moment before he started running again, a pained expression on his face at seeing you before he just… stopped running. 

Squeals and screams came from you as the bats started making their way towards you as you continued your running. A hand grabbing you and turning you around had you screaming in surprise. At first, you thought it was Steve coming to your rescue… again, but once you felt that warm feeling go through your body, you knew it was Eddie.

He held his shield up, blocking the two of you from the demobats as they flew themselves at the two of you, Eddie yelling while they did so before they started flying around the two of you in circles.

“Eddie, what do we do?” you asked, fear lacing your voice. “What do we do?!”

“I fight,” he said. 

“Edd-”

“I’ll protect you, and you’ll walk out of here, unharmed.”

“So the fuck will you!” you exclaimed, gaining his attention. “We’re gonna make it out. We’re, Eddie. We are. Plural. Me and you. Together.” From the corner of your eye, you saw a bat make its way out of the circle to make its way towards you, a scream tearing from your throat before Eddie slashed at it with his spear.

You could very faintly hear Dustin calling your name, but you didn’t care enough to risk your life anymore than you already were to run to your brother.

Eddie fought them as they came, standing in front of you the whole time, yelling out “Come on!” at one point. Turning his head a little towards you, he asked, “How you doing, babe?”

“All things considered?!” you shouted.

A few moments later, a bat wrapped its tail around Eddie’s throat and you jumped into action, grabbing the creature to unwrap it. Grabbing the spear, you carefully slashed at it, cutting it from the hold it had.

You did this for every creature that came at Eddie. Knowing they wanted to make him chow, you weren’t about to let that happen. He used his shield to knock them away. Turning your back for a second, you felt a pain go through your leg, a pained scream tearing from your lips as you went down to the ground, stabbing at the bat that had bitten your leg.

Feeling another pain go through you, again you screamed, not sure where the pain was coming from as you heard Eddie’s pained cries mix with your own. Taking the spear, you slashed and stabbed at the creatures, your blood making your clothes stick your body from where the bats were trying to chow down on you.

“Get the hell off my boyfriend!” you screamed, standing on your good leg to scream and stab all the bats that were making their way to his torso, just like they did with Steve. Before you could even process what was happening, the bats just started falling from where they were circling the two of you.

Dropping the spear, you looked around, breathing heavily before a weak voice called your name. Looking down at Eddie, you gasped and sat beside him, seeing all the blood on him. “Oh, my god. No, no, no, no, no, no.” You hadn’t realized you started crying until you looked up, seeing Dustin. “Dusty!!” you screamed, noticing the limp he had. 

Looking back down at Eddie, you grabbed his body and pulled him against you. “Bad, huh, babe?”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re gonna be fine,” you said, through your tears. Looking up at Dustin, you said, “Give me your jacket.” When he didn’t give it to you, you sighed and exclaimed, “I need to stop the bleeding! Gimme your jacket!”

Once he took his gear off and handed you his jacket, you applied pressure to the wounds on Eddie’s abdomen, a pained cry leaving his lips. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, kissing his forehead through his bandana. “I’ll patch you up when we can get you back to the trailer.”

“P-patch?” he asked, grunting.

“I’ve had to stitch up Steve one or twice, it’s no big deal.” You went to move, but Eddie’s voice stopped you when he said, “Babe, I need a second, okay?”

Letting out a soft sob, you leaned your forehead against his, letting the tears start their descent. Through gritted teeth, Eddie asked, “I didn’t run away this time, right?”

You let out a louder sob, shaking your head, “No. No, you didn’t. My fucking hero.”

“Dustin,” he said, gaining your brother's attention. “You’re gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?”

“You’re not fucking dying!” you yelled, sobbing. “Dustin, tell him he’s not dying.”

“You’re gonna do that yourself,” Dustin sobbed.

“Nah, Hendersons,” Eddie said. Nothing else needed to be said as he looked you dead in your eyes, smiling. “I’m actually gonna graduate.”

Nodding your head fast, you sobbed out, “Yeah. And I’m gonna be there with Hellfire and your Uncle Wayne, cheering you on.

“I think it’s my year, Hendersons.” Seeing the tears welling up in his eyes only made you cry harder. “I think it’s f-f-finally my year.”

“He’s losing too much blood,” you said, pressing harder on his wounds, another pained cry leaving him. “Dustin, help me carry him back to the trailer.” Looking at Eddie as Dustin moved to his feet, you said, “We’re gonna carry you now, baby. It’s gonna hurt like hell. Are you ready?”

He nodded, closing his eyes and trying his best to take a deep breath. 

“Okay, Dusty, ready?” You locked eyes with your brother. “One, two, three.” You both stood up as best you could with one of Dustin’s legs being broken, and with your own injuries.

“What about you?” Dustin asked, looking down at your leg as you walked backwards, also limping.

“I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about Eddie right now.”

With an understanding nod, you both grunted as you made your way back to the trailer. “Baby, keep talking. Please keep talking. I need to hear that amazing voice of yours.”

“I play the solo good?” he asked, struggling to take another breath.

“So fucking good, baby. I jumped against Dustin’s shoulders,” you said, breathing out a chuckle.

Eddie’s chuckle was weak, and he was starting to get heavier in your arms, a bad sign you had come to know.

“No, no, no. Keep talking. Stay awake. Just stay awake! Eddie, stay awake!”

~~~

“Hold still… You gotta hold still… I’m gonna poke your fucking eye out if you don’t stop.”

A groan slipped past his lips as you messed with his hair, a pair of scissors and a comb in your hand. His hair had grown out a little since coming back from the Upside Down, depression hitting him like a bus.

Dustin walked into your room, letting out a small yelp at seeing you straddling a body. “Oh, my god! My eyes.”

You slowly turned your head over your shoulder, looking at your brother the best you could with slightly narrowed eyes. “Can you not? I’m trying to trim his bangs.”

The boy you were currently sitting on sighed, tossing his head back onto your wall. “They’re not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” you said, turning to face the boy in question. “Eddie, I haven’t trimmed them since after Christmas break.”

“And they’re fine.”

Giving a deadpan expression, you slumped your shoulders a little, saying, “You can’t even see. You’re doing that shaking thing with your head so that you can see, babe.”

Eddie’s eyes danced around as he thought about what you were saying before doing exactly what you had he did, before saying, “I do not.”

“Just you did!” you exclaimed, a smile on your face. Before you could lean in and kiss him, Dustin said, “Uhh, before something happens between the two of you, I should probably tell you that Mom is asking for suggestions for dinner.”

“Whatever she wants to make,” you and Eddie said. You two weren’t picky when it came to your mom’s cooking. 

“Anything is better than Spaghetti O’s,” Eddie deadpanned.

You looked at him and started laughing, covering your mouth as you did. 

Reaching towards you, Eddie grabbed the scissors from your hand as he said, “Okay, let me take these out of your hand so that you don’t get more stitches.”

The first couple of weeks after you all came back from the Upside Down were rough; nightmares every night, waking up in a cold sweat, you constantly checking on Eddie’s breathing despite your head resting on his chest. Dustin had slept in your room for the first week back, calming you when Eddie didn’t wake from his own nightmares. 

Your nightmares consisted of Eddie or Dustin dying, being under Vecna’s trances, or you being eaten alive by demobats. Eddie’s mostly consisted of you and Dustin dying or himself being eaten by demobats.

Once the nightmares had stopped, however, you two still checked on each other nightly. Making sure the other was breathing, checking your wounds to see the healing process, the whole nine. You called Steve, Robin and Nancy every single day to make sure they were doing good, their nightmares being completely different from yours and Eddie’s. 

The last time you had called Steve was to ask about his own wounds he had, him telling you that they were fine and healing quite nicely. You two had plans to hang out, but ultimately canceled when Eddie woke from a nap, breathing heavily. You wanted to stay with your boyfriend to make sure he was fine.

“Well…,” Dustin said, bringing you out of your thoughts. “I-I think you guys should come see.”

Sighing, you dropped your head, your chin meeting your chest. “Okay.” As you were lifting yourself off of Eddie’s lap, he placed his hands on your thighs, keeping you in place. You looked at him with a raised brow.

Tapping his lips, he said, “Kiss first.”

Chuckling, you shook your head, and leaned forward, saying, “You’re so stupid,” before placing your lips on his, careful not to press down on his wounds.

“You love me, though,” he said against your lips, a smile on his face.

“That I do,” you smiled. “That I do.” Before getting off his lap, you pecked his lips, your feet meeting the floor before you helped him from your bed.

You guys made your way to the living room, stopping your tracks at seeing all your friends standing around. Covering your mouth, you laughed at seeing Gareth and Jeff holding up a get well sign.

You looked up at Eddie, happy your life was heading in the right direction with the man of your dreams… monster fighting and all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: i'm trying to add the character masterlists onto all my one-shots from here on out! let me know if it makes it easier for y'all to back and choose!

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on January 11, 2024

[hairmetal666]

The first time Steve meets Eddie Munson they're booked for a little indie wrestling show in Rhode Island.

Eddie is--scrappy, untested. It's obvious the only kind of wrestling he's ever done is of the backyard trampoline variety. But. There's something there; they can all see it.

He doesn't like Steve much, but then Steve can't blame him. The Harrington's are a legacy wrestling family. His dad, uncles, even his mom was a famous valet and manager before getting married and retiring. So, he's got this name, and this look, and--earned or not--a reputation, and Munson doesn't like him.

Steve tries not to take it personally.

In between tours and indie bookings, Eddie starts as a trainer at Hopper's gym, and they start doing demonstrations for the kids together. Eddie's good, really good. Even though it's just for teaching, their styles and energy match.

They get booked in their first match against each other at a local show a few months later. The energy they had at Hopper's is nothing compared to this. Sure, there's only about 200 people packed into this high school gym, but it doesn't matter. It's electric.

Eddie's long, curly hair, lean muscles, and tattoos caught Steve's eye the moment they met, but it never flourished into anything because of how much Eddie hated him.

Now, though, they're spending time together, talking, rolling around in a wrestling ring all day, and Steve's only human.

There's a Ring Of Honor pay-per-view, it's the first time that Steve and Eddie have wrestled for a large audience. Anticipation for the match burns in his stomach.

This is Eddie's first appearance in ROH, and no one quite knows what to expect. He only gives a little Cheshire Cat grin when asked. So, Steve is genuinely startled when the arena lights go out, less so when Master of Puppets blares through the speakers.

The lights come up and Eddie stands at the end of the ramp. He's shirtless, hair in damp, loose curls around his shoulders. He's wearing pleather wrestling pants with mesh cutouts across his thighs and shins. Steve thinks he might die.

Eddie slips between the ropes to wild cheers, and Steve stops thinking about how hot he looks.

The first time they tangle up, Steve leans extra close, whispers, "that was amazing." And Eddie gives him this smile that's part menace and part joy. Steve's heart leaps, and their bodies crash together. It's the best time he's had in the ring in years.

Steve's crush aside, he thinks it was relatively normal until he catches up to Robin backstage.

"What the hell was that?" She hisses.

"Huh?"

"Oh my god, Steve. You were all over each other."

"Yeah? We were wrestling?"

"Is this wrestling?" She pulls up the picture from the beginning, of Steve leaning close and Eddie's smile.

It's, uh, way more intimate than Steve realized in the moment. His ears heat. "It wasn't like that," he says.

Robin rolls her eyes. Of course she sees right through him. "Tell that to the 5.1 thousand people who've already liked and reposted this picture."

"It's not going to be a thing," he tells her. He's certain of it.

It becomes a thing.

There are memes, fan art, fan fiction. People ship them--a couple of their trainees, Max and Erica, show them all the fics about them on ao3.

They're a hit.

They're booked against each other again, and this time, Eddie grabs Steve by the back of the head, pulls him in until they're almost kissing, until Steve stops breathing, feels his eyes going starry at the proximity.

The crowd is screaming so loud he can't hear anything, not even what Eddie is saying, even though they're so close. He leans in, unthinking, and Eddie stutters.

"They're eating this up!" Eddie shouts.

And they are, totally captivated. Which is why Steve presses their cheeks together for a several seconds before punching Eddie in the solar plexus.

Their next match, someone starts yelling "kiss, kiss!" and then it's the whole arena. Steve has to hide his laughter against Eddie's shoulder.

They lean more into it. They're having a blast. It even sort of helps his crush a little bit, to kind of make it into something the fans are in on.

He debuts on AEW against Hangman Page. Steve gets the win, and as the ref lifts his arm, he takes a blow to the back of his head. He has a second to see Jason Carver's signature letterman jacket before he goes down. He tries to curl up to protect himself, but still takes a boot to the stomach and more hits to the face and head.

The crowd is already in a frenzy, but when the noise goes up to a fever pitch, he knows Eddie's running down the ramp. He hears the thunk as Jason goes down, then Eddie is hauling Steve up by the shoulders.

They don't leave the ring right away. Instead, Eddie holds him there, brushes his hand over Steve's forehead before cupping his cheek.

As they slip between the ropes, walk to the back, his ears ring. He doesn't think it's from all the cheering.

---

In their next appearance on AEW, Jason attacks Steve backstage. The cameras cut to them right as Steve is thrown into a brick wall. It's supposed to be violent, supposed to get bloody. When he crashes into the corner of a backstage crate, he lets it catch him just above the eyebrow.

The blood starts flowing, warm, down his eyelid and nose just as he hears Eddie burst through the door. There's yelling, the sound of Jason running off, then a warm hand is on his back.

"Steve?" Eddie yells. His voice breaks. "Stevie?"

Hands are on his face, his shoulder, pushing back his hair, pressing against the cut above his eye.

"Ed," he mumbles.

"I'm here, I've got you. Paramedics are on the way, okay? You're going to be okay."

The cameras go down, and the medical team rushes over to patch him up.

Eddie's waiting for him when they're done.

"You're okay," Eddie says. "There was blood everywhere."

"Yeah, I'm alright. Crate got me a little more than I meant for it to."

"Can I?" Eddie asks. He reaches towards Steve, like he wants to touch.

"Course." Steve's voice is thick.

Eddie gently presses his hair back, revealing the butterfly bandage on his forehead. He hisses in a breath. "Got yourself good. I--I don't like seeing you hurt," he says, soft. "I didn't expect--I mean, I know it's not--I didn't like seeing you hurt."

Their eyes lock, the air between them charges. Not like when they're in front of an audience, the cameras. It's just them, alone; just them, standing too close.

Eddie's eyes dart to his mouth, and he leans forward until their breath mingles. Steve's eyes drift closed as the warmth of Eddie's mouth ghosts over his own.

A door down the hall bangs open with a clatter. Eddie and Steve spring apart, the moment fizzling.

Later, Steve tells Robin he thinks he imagined it.

---

Steve isn't on TV the next few weeks, the story is that he required surgery to repair internal bleeding and ended up with a grade-3 concussion. His timeline for return is unknown.

Eddie is set to wrestle Jason at the next pay-per-view, Revolution.

During Steve's two week break, he gets a text from Eddie. "Miss you, Stevie. Not the same here without you."

"Miss you too," he says back.

He's so in love with him.

---

The night of Revolution dawns, nerves thrumming in his stomach. He stays low-key, out-of-sight. He isn't going to make an appearance for a while, and he and Eddie agreed to not see each other before the match to make the reunion all the more real.

So, he hangs out in a backstage room, watching the show on a small TV, and psyching himself up for what's to come.

He makes his way to gorilla position as soon as Jason and Eddie finish their entrances, watches the match play out on the producers' monitors.

It's an even fight at the beginning but it gets nasty at the first appearance of weapons. Eddie takes a steel chair to the face, Jason sets up a table and Eddie dives from the top rope to crash him through it. That mat is littered with thumbtacks and sticky with blood, and then Jason grabs a chain from under the ring, wrapping it around Eddie's throat.

Steve runs down the ramp and the crowd goes insane, distracting Jason and allowing Eddie to scurry free. Jason disappears over the barricade and into the crowd, but neither of them go after him. Instead, Eddie runs around the ring, pulling Steve into a tight embrace. The fans scream.

They hold each other tight, the roars from the stands washing over them until they coalesce into one word, "kiss."

"Should we give the people what they want?" Eddie asks. His eyes are bright.

It's not real, Steve knows it's not, and maybe this will hurt more than landing in a pile of thumbtacks once it's over, but he nods. He's smiling so hard his mouth hurts.

He expects a stage kiss, a quick peck, but Eddie's hand cups the back of his head, draws him in slow, their lips meeting in a gentle press.

Everything around them melts away and he sinks against Eddie, lets the kiss carry him away. He wants more, wants to taste, wants anything Eddie will give.

"Guys," a voice says next to them. "Guys, you gotta ease up. We have to re-set for the main event."

The audience noise comes back to him in a tidal wave chant of their names and "They're in love" accompanied by a rhythmic clap.

They walk backstage together, close but not touching, and Steve thinks he can't be disappointed if it was only for TV. It was the closest to bliss he's ever been.

In the bustle of backstage, Eddie pulls him into a quiet hallway, hands immediately going to Steve's face.

"I meant it." He says. "The kiss. I meant every second."

For their second kiss, no one is there to tell them to stop.

[sundrop-writes]

Hii can I request some basic relationship HC’s for Erik Campbell x Fem hair stylist reader(specifically a color specialist) that has a similar alternative style to his? It’s okay if you can’t or dont want to and sorry I don’t really know how to request😭

I love this concept so much omg. I am just so downbad for Erik, and like I said - I am prioritising requests related to him (an Erik pwp has been calling my name, but the right concept has not struck me yet. so if anybody has an idea for one, send it my way)

anyway, here we go

ALSO I got carried away and the beginning of this turned into a whole detailed 'how they met' fic, so like... idk if that's a good thing or not. lmao. I just love him and this is technically my first time writing for him and I had a good time

Headcanons for Erik Campbell dating an Alternative Hairstylist (Erik Campbell from Final Destination: Bloodlines x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns and is generally described as a 'woman'; mentions of the reader having a non-natural coloured hair (but the reader's hair texture is never described, as to not insist upon her race); there is also mentions of the reader having tattoos and piercings and wearing 'alt' clothing; mentions of the reader being cheated on by a man who is not Erik; there is sexual themes in this, but no explicit smut - though I will do Erik smut/kink headcanons if prompted; mentions of Erik giving the reader more than one tattoo; mentions of Erik's family being judgemental toward the reader. I think that's it for this. This fic does not contain any spoilers for the film, so if you haven't seen it yet and you want to, this will not spoil it for you.

...

Erik would have never called the start of your relationship a Meet-Cute. In fact, it was quite literally the opposite. It was more like... a Meet-Bitch. A Meet-Hell. Okay - he was no good with words, and he had no clue what the hell the opposite of a Meet-Cute would be.

But he loved looking back on the day he had met you, because it was one of the best days of his life.

He had been working the shop by himself. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and who the hell comes in to get a tattoo or a piercing on a fucking Tuesday afternoon? Weekends are always the busiest for walk-ins, and his boss always booked appointments in advance for the evenings anyway. So on a Tuesday afternoon where the sun was shining brightly outside, seeping in through the glass storefront, reminding him of the gorgeous day that he was missing out on, Erik was drinking an iced coffee and listening to one of his playlists at a low hum while he worked on a sketch.

It wasn't anything fancy - just a skull with devil horns and a pentagram on the forehead with flames coming out of the eyes. A tattoo that he was considering giving to himself if he could pick a good place for it.

When you burst in through the front door, causing the bell overhead to ring, he was almost startled by your presence.

"Are you free?" You asked. He didn't noticed the trembling in your voice at first, the slight sniffle you gave that would have indicated you had been crying, and when he looked up at you, he honestly thought that the redness in your eyes was from you partaking in a mid-afternoon toke, and not due to crying.

But that redness was far from the first thing he noticed about you.

The first thing he had to notice about you was the fact that you were smoking hot. You had bright blue hair streaked with some jet black, done in a fancy style that said you definitely knew what you were doing. You were wearing skin-tight jeans that looked as though they had been painted onto your body, with a few rips in them revealing streaks of black and somewhat colourful ink underneath - definitely not the only tattoos you had on your body. Complete with a groomer belt that he easily pictured himself unbuckling...

You were wearing heavy combat boots and a tee shirt that said Puppet Master with a picture of some very weird white faced character on it that immediately made him curious. And your look was topped off by a lot of jewellery - bracelets, rings, and a lot of metal adorning your face and ears. Erik found himself immediately attracted to you, and he had no clue how long he stood there, staring without even saying a word.

"Hello?!" You screamed at him, giving another small sniffle. "I asked you a question!"

"Uh, yeah, I'm free." He replied. "What do you-?"

He was about to ask what you wanted done, and before he could, you muttered 'thank god' under your breath, and much to his shock, you reached to the hem of your shirt and proceeded to rip it over your head. His jaw nearly came unhinged as he watched you parade across the room in a black lace bra and immediately lay down on his table, quick to make yourself comfortable as if this was your twentieth session with him and the two of you weren't complete strangers.

"What do you want?" He asked, moving to approach the table, trying to maintain his professionalism despite the fact that his eyes kept migrating to your cleavage as you lounged on your back.

"I want to feel some damn pain." You huffed out. "Just - do whatever you want."

"You know, that's basically giving me license to draw dicks on you," He chuckled, attempting to make a joke.

Your only response was a tired huffed, and his stomach swirled when your lip quivered, and he quickly realised that you were holding back tears. He knew that it wasn't his responsibility to talk you out of it, especially because you already had so much ink and you clearly wouldn't regret it. It was his responsibility to give you something sick, and probably be a listening ear for whatever you needed to blow off.

He moved back to the desk and grabbed the notebook he had been drawing in, and brought it over to show you.

"What about this?" He posed, showing you the flaming skull.

You looked over, and in a moment, your sad eyes lit up.

"That is actually a wonderful summary of how I'm feeling right now." You told him. "Do me up, baby."

"You gonna tell me what fucked you up so badly?" Erik asked.

You let out a huff, and shook your head.

Naturally, you asked for the tattoo to be on your ribs - one of the most painful places to reflect the emotional pain that you were feeling. He wasn't surprised when you sat like a champ, barely showing any signs that you were in pain as he took the needle to your skin, inking in his design. He had to assume that the tears leaking from your eyes had to do with whatever was troubling you emotionally, and not the actual pain of the tattoo, because you seemingly ignored his presence altogether.

It was more than an hour into the session when Erik finally managed to get an answer out of you.

You only spoke up when a particular song came up on shuffle, Erik's playlist still coming out of the speakers at a moderate level. Your face twisted in disgust as LA Devotee by Panic! At The Disco started playing.

"Ugh, can you change this?" You asked, your eyes flickering over to the nearby speaker, as though trying to spite the sound waves coming at you. "This song just reminds me of my stupid - ugh. Would you mind?"

"You can change it." He told you. "Don't wanna touch my phone with the gloves on."

He gestured toward his phone, which was sitting on the edge of his instrument tray, and you didn't hesitate to reach out and grab it. After only a moment of looking at the screen, another song came on, and he was delighted by what you had chosen. So Long And Thanks For All The Booze by All Time Low started playing as you placed his phone down above your head, and you mumbled the lyrics under your breath.

"Break-up tattoo." He theorised aloud, noticing how more tears came to your eyes as you continued to quietly hum along to the song. "I never would have guessed you to be the type to get all heartbroken over a guy-"

"I'm not heartbroken." You barked, cutting him off. "I'm pissed off."

"Okay." He replied. "Usually those are the same thing."

You rolled your eyes.

"What happened?" He had to ask. When you remained silent, he added on: "Come on, it might make you feel better to tell someone about it."

You inhaled sharply through your nose, and then, for the first time since that morning when you had discovered the devastating news, you finally braved bringing the words to life.

"My boyfriend cheated on me." You said. Erik focused patiently on filling in the shading around the skull, not looking at you, giving you the room to speak more because you clearly needed it. "I was in Tulsa for the weekend doing a wedding - one of my regular clients was getting married, and she insisted that I be there-"

"Clients?" He prodded curiously.

"Yeah." You replied. "I do hair. Usually I'm just a colourist, but she wanted me to freshly colour it and style it for the day of her wedding. She wanted her signature look for her pictures."

That would explain why your hair was so nice.

Erik nodded, and focused back on the tattoo as you continued your story.

"Anyway - when I came back early this morning, I came into my apartment and found my boyfriend in bed with some fucking fried blond cocktail waitress... and she said that he told her we were broken up. Apparently he's had her there every late night I've worked for months. She must have been sniffing that Level 40 she uses, because all my stuff is still in that fucking apartment-"

"Sounds like he knows he's not good enough for you and he picked someone who's actually on his level." Erik commended mindlessly.

"I'm not paying you to be some armchair therapist. I'm paying you for the tattoo." You replied.

"Okay." Erik shrugged. "But, I do have to say..."

You gave him a glare as he continued, but as usual, he couldn't stop his mouth from crossing the boundaries that had been set.

"Any asshole that would fumble a hot girl like you is a total idiot. And if you're crying over him, he doesn't deserve it."

"Then what do you recommend, Doctor-?" It became apparent to you then that you didn't know the name of the hot tattoo artist that was currently inking you.

"Doctor Campbell." He winked, playing along with your bit. "But you can call me Erik."

You rolled your eyes at him. "I'm Y/N."

He wanted to make a comment about how he thought even your name was hot, but he didn't want to push it.

"And for the record, I would recommend - instead of wallowing in self pity, getting revenge." He told you, very determined.

"Revenge?" You questioned, raising a brow at him.

"Yeah." He replied, giving you a smirk. "If he's gonna fuck some 'fried blonde cocktail waitress', then you should fuck someone else as revenge. Maybe... a hot tattoo artist with a pierced dick?"

He didn't miss the way your eyes flickered down to the zipper of his jeans, clearly curious about his words.

"You're an asshole." You huffed quietly.

But still, after he had wrapped your new tattoo - which you loved, by the way - he ended up locking the front door and dropping the curtains so that he could show you that piercing. And you ended up riding his cock in the piercing chair.

Then, he escorted you back to your apartment so that he could help you throw all your boyfriends things into garbage bags - some of which you picked out to burn in his family's fire pit - and by the time your boyfriend returned, you had changed the locks, and all his things were in garbage bags in the hallway. And you were too busy showing Erik the fresh sheets you had put on the bed to even bother answering his screaming and banging on the door.

And that was just how the two of you met.

Your relationship from there was... everything. (And definitely a lot better than the relationship you had with your ex.)

After it healed, Erik quickly became obsessed with the flaming skull and how it looked on you. He took any opportunity possible to kiss it, rub his hands on it, even when you were wearing a shirt that covered it (which was a lot of the time), his hand would always migrate to sit right there on your ribs, possessive of the place where he had marked you right when the two of you had first met.

You knew one of the easiest ways to drive him insane was to wear a short crop top that revealed the tattoo to the world, showing off one of his greatest works. And whenever people asked about the amazing body art, you could easily point him and tell them 'my boyfriend did it'. It was a quick way to get creeps off your back if they were hitting on you, or just a way to brag about having him in your life. And whenever you said this, he was quick to throw an arm around your neck and take credit for the work with a smirk at whoever had been leering at your body.

It wasn't long into the relationship that the two of you got matching tattoos.

You both knew about the regret rate of couple tattoos and you knew it would be stupid to get each other's names or something like that - though often, if you annoyed him, Erik threatened to get his tattoo gun and etch his name into your skin so that you 'couldn't run away'. (He had no clue how much this turned you on, and how often you wanted to pull your pants down in the middle of the shop and let him paint his name across your asscheek, even if you might regret it later.)

But when you both knew that you wanted matching tattoos, you settled on something cheesy and simple - two halves of a broken heart, positioned above your thumbs so that it came together as one when you held hands. He did yours, and then strangely, even with no experience, he trusted you to do his - he guided you the whole way through it, and said that your 'delicate, steady hands' from hours of colouring hair would make you a natural.

(The edges turned out a bit wonky, the ink bleeding just a bit more than it should have, but he claimed that he loved it nonetheless.)

It wasn't long after that night that Erik finally let you talk him into colouring his hair. Previously, he was convinced that he might look dumb with brightly coloured hair, especially because he definitely wasn't going to let you die his beard, and he didn't want it to be mismatched.

But you picked a few tasteful streaks in the front, and after he spent some time enjoying your boobs dangling in front of his face because of how close you got during the process, he came out of the ordeal with some new bright red hair that looked absolutely badass on him. And he quickly became addicted to cycling through colours, trying them out to see how each would look on him.

Of course, this meant that the two of you ended up matching a few times. The first was when you were mixing up a batch of teal for yourself and claimed that you were simply using the leftovers on him. And though he said that he thought it was dorky - the picture of the two of you with your matching hair was one of his favourites, it remained as his phone lockscreen to this day.

Strangely, Erik's family didn't like you when they met you. At least not at first.

Even though they know and love Erik, they judged you when they met you based on your appearance. They had known Erik forever, and had more than enough of a chance to get to know him past his tattoos and piercings and his general grudgey attitude. They still knew him as the ten year old kid who wore a Ninja Turtles backpack to school.

But when they saw you - (sadly) they immediately thought you were mean. And due to your nerves about meeting his family, you were quiet, standing off to the side, crossing your arms - and they took this to believe that you were snobbish and bitchy, which truly didn't help with the first impression.

Bobby was the first one to come around to you. On the night that Erik had first brought you over to meet everyone, it wasn't going so well, and Erik suggested that you and his siblings hang out at the mall for a bit because his parents kept giving you odd glares and not-so-subtly whispering about you to each other.

He thought that you would better relate to his brother and sister. After an awkward walk through Sephora with sister where she talked about 'glowing skin' and compared shades of pink that you thought were the same and your jaw nearly dropped at the price of a single black eyeliner - while Bobby chewed him out over dating someone 'so cold and stuck-up', the three of you decided to go to the food court. The three siblings were the first to get their food and sit down, and Julia made a joke about how you had ditched them, right before you seemingly came out of no where and nearly tackled Bobby, smacking the corndog out of his hand.

It left an epic mess of mustard over the front of his shirt, and all Bobby, Julia, and Erik looked at you with intense confusion, questioning your sanity before you blurted out:

"Those are fried in peanut oil."

"No they're not!" Bobby quickly argued. "I've eaten stuff from there a dozen times! I think I would know-!"

You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the kiosk, pointing to a small, barely visible sign that said 'Alert - Allergen Risk'. Apparently the brand had been bought out by a new parent company and switched all their products to being fried in peanut oil. When Erik relayed the story to their father, he went on a rant about how he should sue the company for not having a more visible alert of the allergen, and Bobby praised you as a hero.

He was the one to invite you to the next family dinner, and everyone started coming around to you after that.

Overall, Erik was a sweet, thoughtful boyfriend, even if he didn't always voice it and showed it through is actions instead. He loves you a lot, loves the way that the two of you are alike, and loves how you challenge him with your differences.

...

(Okay, I might have gotten carried away and lost the plot a bit, but I had so much fun with this. I need to write more about Erik so badly. If you enjoyed this, please check out the rest of my Horror Characters Masterlist - there is definitely gonna be more Erik Campbell on it soon. And feel free to request other horror characters that I might put on it too.)

[totally-not-your-babe]

I'M ALIVE

Who is done with all her uni exams and work and will update her fics soon?!

Also I'm gonna catch up with all you fanfiction updates.

AAAAAND who's got a new job in a bank? Me, again! Scared as hell on the job interview but I did it.

Sooo all in all updates are coming soon!

Love you all!

[ancientnapdragon]

I come to you with another scumcum scenario as I put off editing my fic ❤️

Putting it under a read thing cause it'll get long. Tldr: transmigrating + time travel + npc villain sy + changing destiny stuff

Okay so SY has his canon death and wakes up as a like 10 y/o who is this disciple to some evil rogue cultivator. He had a System and it helps him clock where/who he is - PIDW in the skin of some lesser villain who died to a wife plot. Absolutely nothing special about the guy except he had some special technique that allowed him to use qi to "puppet" other people. He ended as they all do and died and Bingge got the girl the guy was terrorizing. EZPZ!

The System gives him like a handful of quests to get him adjusted, wishes him luck, then sticks him into sandbox mode. He's so minor a character it doesn't even care. He ends up sticking with the evil rogue cultivator, his Shizun, until he learns all he can and then fucks off the first change he gets. Which includes learning that super cool puppet thing!

He then spends the next few decades fucking around, being a (good!) rogue cultivator, expanding his skills, and absolutely NOT touching the plot at all! If he doesn't harass anyone then Bingge will never need to kill him! So it all works out!

Then the Realms Merge, he's in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he fucking dies.

System wakes him up and is like "you can go again!" Then dumps him back into his 10 y/o body. Again. SY, since he has all the techniques now anyway, steals what he can as soon as he can and runs for away from his "Shizun" and starts cultivating on his own and mastering his Puppet technique again. And without having to help that evil guy!

Since he is not an Adult x2 in a kid's body, and has experience with PIDW' world, he ends up exploring around and doing what he cna to take care of himself. He's still determined to avoid the plot! But maybe he will avoid it in a new and exciting way!

After a few years, when he's about 13, he ends up in this city and is trading some herbs for some cash when this spoiled lord on a horse passes by. He's also got a pretty boy and girl his age with him, but the boy looks like maybe a slave. SY doesn't think too much of it until the slave boy happens to fall and drops some packages he was carrying. The lord gets angry at him and pulls out his horse wip and starts hitting the boy right there.

SY is still a modern man even after husband second lifetime and is really upset by this. Discreetly he uses his puppet ability to spooky the horse, tie the guy to it, and then have it RUN off. SY goes over to check on the boy. Through a series of the biy being scared but hin also refusing to leave the girl, SY ends up sorta kidnapping them both.

SJ is 14 and QHT is 12. I know that she crashed out HARD in svsss but I do feel bad for kid her. SJ kinda gets her to understand stuff so she stays with them- we won't think too hard about that right now!

So it ends up with them on the run from the Qiu/authorities but also SY teaching them both what he can about Cultivation! QHT he knows as a wife from the novel and SJ? No idea but he feels bad for him. He doesn't teach them the puppet technique but he does what he can for them! They end up as a trio of wandering Cultivators!

It's not glamorous but they do what they can! And since SY is pretty much cheating with 2 lifetimes of knowledge it makes it a lot easier for them. SY is 100% convinced that SJ and QHT are gunna get married when they're old enough. He sees the childhood friends to romance arc clearly in his mind. SY and QHT see each other more like siblings and QHT teases SJ about his crush on SY relentlessly. It is only because SY is oblivious he never notices.

(Meanwhile, YQY escapes from his cave hell and storms to the Qiu Manor. Only to find out that his precious SJ (and QHT but he doesn't care about her) were captured by some fiendish demonic cultivator and it's been so long they're presumed dead....)

When SY is like 16-ish they catch wind of the IAC being held and decide to go watch it. They're not aligned with a Sect so they can't participate but they can spectate! It ends up with Mr Depression Man himself winning with like LQG as 2nd or something. SJ gets Really Fucking Mad because that's Qi-ge and storms the winner's pulpit to punch the fuck out of him. In front of like the whole Cultivation World basically. (YQY does NOT get to escape his Guilt Torment Nexus THAT easily!!)

So SJ causes a big scene, LQG and probably few others try to stop/jump SJ, and SY and QHT do what they can to keep him from being jumped. It ends with the three of them basically getting kidnapped to CQMS. Due to some pleading from YQY and some scheming from the QJPL, they end up as QJP Disciples. SJ is eventually named head disciple. It is only then he realizes WHO his friend is and freaks out about it.

Through shenanigans they end up keeping TLJ from getting sealed, SYX from dying, and so future LBH grows up with his family in the demon realm as a prince. QHT takes down her brother and dad for being bad people and seduces QQQ. YQY is EVENTUALLY forgiven after he suffers some and finally talks about his sword.

SJ uses infant NYY to baby trap SY into marriage. Everyone lives happily ever after.

[pseudowho]

Fright Night! Multi-Fic

The local fair has a Halloween fright night! Actors and zombies and terror, oh my! You drag your boyfriend to it...how does that go for you?

Gojo, Geto, Toji, Higuruma and Ino

18+, NSFW/suggestive in parts

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Gojo: Goes in smiling. Obnoxious laughter the whole way, and it only worsens when you're screaming at every single actor. As you cringe away from a dead-eyed bride, Gojo tickles your ribs until you squirm.

"Awww, baby, you scared? You're scared, right?"

As if in answer to his question, and received with heaps of cackles, you screech when some hideous creature with no teeth and bloodstained rags lunges at you from the dark.

"Satoru-- hold my hand--"

"--ahhh, yeah, okay...c'mere."

He pulls you in, and you scuttle to keep up with his long-legged stride. Still, the horrors continue and so does his mockery.

His teasing is relentless. Your fear is gradually replaced by indignant prickling anger. You take your chance, when it comes.

"You go in first," you beg Satoru, outside a horrifying old room full of dolls, "please, Satoru, check it out first before I go--"

He huffs as if actually bothered, but his shit-eating grin gives him away as he ambles inside. "Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a twi--"

You promptly shove the door closed with a bang! and yank a chair beneath the doorknob. You've heard rumours about this room; you are not disappointed. Satoru's voice sounds wary. The doorknob rattles just once, and you bite your lip with a smile.

"--hey...hey, babe, the...the dolls are moving."

Nervous laughter from the room. You try to hide the laughter in your voice.

"Oh yeah? You okay?"

"--OH, FU-- yeah, I'm fine. You know me, I'm the stronge--"

Satoru's voice cuts off with a profoundly girly screech, and the doorknob rattles violently while you twist with silent hilarity, tears streaming down your cheeks as you choke out.

"Ohhhh, nooo, Satoru, the door's stuck!"

More screeches, bangs and horrifying eerie noises, but you're too busy pressed forwards on your knees, laughing and laughing to the confused looks of passers-by.

"The dolls aren't dolls! THE DOLLS AREN'T DOLLS! BABE! LET ME OUT!"

A guy leans down to you, pointing at the door.

"Hey, uh...can we go in?"

You wipe tears of mirth from your eyes, bursting into laughter as you hear Satoru scream again.

"No...no, sorry buddy. This one's gonna be taken for a while, I think."

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Geto: Total con-artist. Though he croons to you, cloudsoft and soothing through your horror, he's the puppet master. The horror engineer. The king of manipulation.

Every time another actor leaps out to set fear aflame in your veins, Suguru only pretends to be surprised; he isn't. He's already led you around this maze three times, anticipating the flow of the actors, and bleeding you for maximum terror.

He doesn't want to admit how his cock twitches against his thigh every time you break down into a whimpering mess; but, he can't deny that he's getting off on this.

"Shhhh, shhh shhh shhh," he soothes, one arm holding you to his side while his lips and nose ghost the shell of your ear, "shhh, baby, it's okay...it's all just pretend. I'm here. I've got you."

You look confused, your memory tangled by fear; "I...I could swear we've been this way already, Suguru--"

"Trust me. I know the way. These mazes are all samey. You're just getting mixed up, silly. Come on."

He has distracted you again, of course. He walks forwards, looking back to you with a smile. You frown, looking down at Suguru's two empty hands...and wondering whose hand you are holding.

The scream you scream, as Suguru seamlessly replaces himself with a white-eyed, rotten-fleshed actor, sends a dribble of pre-cum down his thigh.

He's just waiting until he can get you home, switch off all the lights, and continue the scare trail straight into bed.

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Toji: Utterly unbothered, and smirks his way around. Some of the actors approach, take one look at him, and then turn tail to scare someone else. Anyone else.

But halfway round, he gets bored, and disappears. You're left, abandoned; alone. Toji wants to get in on the action.

You're surrounded by screams, and silence, and dry ice in the dark, and you turn on the spot, spinning, frantic, your heart pounding, your tongue dry, sweat dripping down the small of your back--

Until the sound of metal on metal. Something scraping along a wall. Footsteps heavier than your own heartbeat. And, the one small light source you have is blocked, as a monster of a man in a boiler suit, mask and axe fills the doorway.

The whimper that leaves you is audible; "...Toji?" As if you could be so lucky.

Silence. His heavy, laboured breathing. The footsteps begin towards you, slowly at first...before he runs.

You run, too, shrieking like a banshee, too loud for you to hear the occasional laugh beneath the monstrous man's roars. You find yourself chased down to a dead end, your back and palms flat against the wall, chest heaving, and he approaches slowly, watching you behind his mask.

The blade of the (very blunt) axe strokes down, down, down the centre line of your torso to stop just over your sex, and you whimper, mortified by the trickle of arousal that creeps through you.

"T-Toji--" You whisper to yourself, "T-Toji, where the fuck--please please please help me--oh my god ohmygod ohmygod--"

A shiver seems to go through the man, who leans down and whispers, in a voice so familiar that your jaw drops.

"Like bein' chased, huh? What about bein' caught? You like bein' caught?"

Judging by the way his boiler suit tents, Toji likes it, at least.

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Higuruma: Has not got the mental wherewithal for this, today. Perhaps another day, but not today. And it infuriates him, when his colourful imagination and adrenaline threaten to overtake his inherent logic that this is all just make-believe.

"For fuck's sa-- pull yourself together, Hiromi," he groans as another horrifying creature-person scuttles past in a contortionist twist. You're carried on his back, squealing and kicking into him, while he huffs at you with beleaguered fondness.

Every time something makes him jump, a noise of bewildered shock bursts out, and he growls at himself, running his hand back through his hair and pressing his forehead against a nearby wall.

A few actors, however, take one look at him and treat him as part of the furniture. Hiromi frowns.

"Some of them think I look scared enough, apparently."

You mumbled into his neck. "Scary enough, I think you mean. Look--"

You gently turn his face to a flaking full length mirror. Hiromi drinks himself in; still in a dishevelled suit and tie, sweatstains, coffee drip on his white shirt, and dark circles that surely have to be make-up.

Suddenly, it clicks.

"Ahhh," Hiromi breathes putting you down to your screeching indignation; he doesn't notice as you press yourself to the wall, instead rubbing his face and clothes on a discarded 'bloody' rag.

By the time he's finished, stepping slowly over to you, chin tilted down and looking down at you with beetle-black eyes, you feel a shiver running through you. He's...frightening. Clearly some awful spectral businessman, covered in blood and dirt and horror.

"You...wow. Yeah, Hiromi, you look...great."

Hiromi shrugs you onto his back with a satisfied little chuckle, and the rest of your scare trail is relatively unhindered. Passers-by skirt round him with a wary gaze, and the sinister little smile on his face only adds to the effect.

You stroke one finger down his chest, sultry and whispering.

"Hey, Hiro...stay like this, later, for...activities."

"You are utterly twisted, my love. I absolutely can."

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Ino: Just as scared as you. Absolute chocolate teapot. You'd have done better taking a puppy with you, probably, because the actors approach Ino thinking he can take it, and he absolutely can't.

If Takuma could have jumped into your arms, a la Scooby Doo, he would have. Alas, he simply pulls his balaclava down in groaning terror. When other visitors then scream at him, too, thinking he's part of the crew, he raises his balaclava back up with a suppressed sob.

"Baby-- I can't take it-- I'm too weak-- my heart--"

"Takuma, I--" You shriek, too, when some ghastly woman in a bloodstained nightdress appears. She runs for you both, and you and Takuma sprint away, hand-in-hand, half-laughing, and half-crying.

By the time you round a corner, slamming the door to trap yourselves in a dark room, you and Ino hold each other, panting in the gloom. You feel a familiar hard press against your belly, and look up at Takuma with utter disbelief. He blushes, his lower lip drawing up and looking aside with a grumble.

"--are you excited, Takuma--"

"--aww, shit, babe, you know he don't make any sense--"

His words cut off with a strangled moan as you grip him through his pants, and, biting your lip, lower to your knees. Takuma's jaw drops, his cock twitching up as it's released. You whisper up at him in the dark.

"...emotional support blow-job?"

"F-fuck yeah, emotional support blow-job, I can be your hero after that--"

A few people come to investigate the ghostly little moans coming from your room, but Ino blocks the door with one trembling, jittering foot until the moans crescendo.

[velvetdolor]

Siren’s ATEEZ Fic recs!

hi friends! as ateez is my ult group and reading fanfiction is my comfort hobby, i wanted to share some recommendations because there’s so many talented writers here on this platform. it’ll be nearly impossible to list every single one i’ve come across but these are what i’ve gathered recently thus far! a lot of what i’ve been coming across are seonghwa, wooyoung, and yunho fics, so this is mostly a collection for these members by coincidence. there’s also a san rec in here! hehe

starting off strong, we have @faerouzia with their newly released dark fantasy, third age au seonghwa fic. the author’s provided playlists, moodboards, and really went above and beyond in cultivating a world i could feel palpably. this fic is severely underrated and i definitely encourage people to go an read it, especially if you’re a dark fantasy geek like me. here’s the fic link to Kingdom: At Grim’s End. the series is also listed as 21+ so please be mindful and MDNI.

next, we have a wooyoung hurt/comfort oneshot by @hjsmermaid. despite it being a shorter passage, it’s so well written that it honestly provided it so much meaning. i cried while reading because it reminded me of what love felt like when i was 17, and it was such a moving piece. i believe this fic doesn’t have any age warnings and there’s nothing for minor’s to be wary of reading other than mentions of smoking nicotine/cigarettes! it’s based on troye sivans song, strawberries and cigarettes which i also loved so much. here’s the link to the fic.

@captain-joongz fic deserve you is a seonghwa fic that also has a sequel, wonderful nothing. this was an unquestionably SEXY read. i’m a sucker for fics/stories with darker themes but do take note of the warnings before reading. seonghwa in this role is the reader’s brother-in-law… i was salivating. 18+ fic, so this one isn’t for you minors~

@armpirate like we were had me sitting in a dark room contemplating every love i’ve known in my personal life. it’s moving, heart wrenching, and stained with uncomfortable yearning. san was written as a character i could see as a genuine representation of a man who despite his flaws and misdeeds is the one who got away. this author also has many other fics on this platform i think people should check out! (18+)

@kitten4sannie is a staple for ATEEZ fics on tumblr. they’ve released a new fic, new light that’s a super spicy read based on an aged up!yunho who’s also the readers next door neighbor. i loved every second of reading it after work, because reading absolutely NASTY smut is the equivalent of having a cigarette as a treat. (for me at least, please don’t smoke y’all.) (as you’ve probably gathered, this is an 18+ piece!)

I’ve been O B S E S S E D with @peacheeeliz wooyoung smau, casual. now it’s never a safe bet to assume anything about an idol and their private life but i can definitely imagine wooyoung having commitment issues irl lol this take on it tickles me in all of the right ways and i always enjoy seeing the author’s update notifications (18+ series!)

@matzrionette has written an extremely dark circus au, master of puppets. i believe this is the remastered addition and it’s plot is something i haven’t seen anywhere else. it’s well written and is a seonghwa/yunho/reader fic! love seeing a double pairing, esp a seonghwa/yunho one. please be sure to read the series warnings, as this is a dark fic, but for those that enjoy darker and intricate plots—this is for you and it definitely was for me. (18+!)

heat of the night, by @onlyforwoosan is a seonghwa racer au… y’all this takes car sex to another level in the most delicious ways possible. there’s something about a semi-rugged man who doesn’t hesitate to protect the woman he loves but is also absolutely nasty and drives fast cars. (i hate car guys irl but not online from a distance so this is perfect for me. match made in heaven!

that’s it for now! i’ll start posting fic recs here and there. i’m also doing major blog housekeeping so i can arrange it to be a lot easier to navigate for any visitors! ٩(^‿^)۶ i’ll probably arrange it by tags so that people could find designated posts a lot easier via the search bar and my cleaning should be done by the end of this week. (hopefully)

here’s a link to my masterlist!

i’ve also released three new fics all ranging in theme from art apprentice au’s, ancient vampire x poker player au’s, and a stupid-but-gifted friend group, religious horror fic about exorcists lol. if that’s ur thing pls check it out, like, and reblog! <3 (all of my series are 18+ only, since i chronically write smut. i’m so sorry to my babies.)

for the thrill of the hunt is an ancient vampire seonghwa x ancient vampire reader x prey/poker player wooyoung fic! it’s a smut comedy with some fantasy undertones and backstories in knighthood lol. it’s also a short series, with plans of having special one shots based within the same universe.

fatal attraction is a art apprentice seonghwa x muse! reader x mentor! yeosang fic. it’s a complicated accidental love triangle spanning the timeline of a decade. this is 18+ and a two part series.

my newest fic, devil’s catch has been one of my favorites to write thus far. it’s literally my baby. it’s an ot8 x reader with a major focus on the hongjoong x reader pairing about a group of special grade exorcists trying to fight against the impending doom of the apocalypse. relationships get complicated and it’s going to be a packed, dark plot. this will be a longer series with a plan of at least 10+ chapters, but hopefully not 20 lol.

until next time friends!