#dark eddie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lemonmarquee · 2 months ago

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this is going in my hall of fame

𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 | eddie munson x reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | maybe you're a little spoiled, but the fact of the matter is, you're used to getting what you want. you want eddie, and he wants you— that means you're going to do whatever it takes to stay together. if only you knew how far he would go to keep you.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | 8.6k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | smut (18+ only; including some dubcon, fingering, unprotected sex, slight dacryphilia, and referenced loss of virginity), graphic violence/murder, kidnapping, abusive parents (verbal and briefly physical), innocent reader, innocence/corruption kink, assorted crimes escalating in severity, controlling/toxic relationship, starts consensual gets fucked up quickly, yandere!eddie, romeo and juliet goes bonnie and clyde

THIS IS A DARK FIC. eddie's dark, smut's dark, whole thing's dark (by the end at least). it's not for everyone. if depictions of SA, murder, and manipulation sound like they might be triggering for you, please do not hit 'keep reading'.

"That boy is no good for you," she hissed. "That boy is no good at all."

"Mama, don't say that!" you whined, sounding just like the impetuous child she'd accused you of being moments earlier. "He's good to me and he loves me!"

"He's good to you because he wants something from you," she insisted. "He says he loves you because—"

"He doesn't just say he loves me," you interrupted. "He really does, Mama."

"Oh, does he?" she sneered, stepping up closer to you. "He doesn't only love you with words, does he? What else does he do?"

Her line of questioning made it obvious that she already knew. The terror of that realization made your eyes sting with tears.

"Don't tell me you spread your legs for trailer trash," your mother warned, and your fists clenched at your sides. Rage gave you the courage to look into her eyes and you found her own fury there— but it couldn't beat yours, not when you had your love for Eddie in your heart, telling you what to do.

"He made love to me," you informed her though your teeth, "and I—"

You didn't get a chance to finish your thought before the back of your mother's hand collided with your cheek, spinning your whole head to the side. It stung especially hard where her massive diamond ring had cut your face, and when you pulled your hand away from where it held your tingling skin, you saw little dots of blood on your fingers.

You started to sob loudly, so much louder than you already had. You were crying so hard you couldn't even form words.

"Okay, that's enough," your father decides, getting up from where he'd been sitting in his chair, staring disapprovingly at all that had been going on. When you told your parents that Eddie Munson was your boyfriend and that you would not be attending equestrian summer camp in Cape Cod this year because you wanted to stay with him, your mother was the one who had flown into hysterics while your father had just sighed and sat down, looking overwhelmed. You didn't see him looking like that too often, since he was such a respected businessman who handles so much every day, but it made sense that he was out of his element here.

"Daddy," you sobbed, running to him and colliding with his sweater-vest-clad torso, "Daddy, please, I love him…"

"I… I know, sweetpea," he sighed, "but… sometimes what we feel and what is expected of us don't….match up."

You buried your face into his chest, soaking the argyle cotton with your tears. "Daddy, he's not a bad person. He's so kind and he takes care of me—"

You heard your mother scoff, but thankfully she didn't interrupt you.

"You'd like him if you met him," you promised, pulling back enough to look at your father with hopeful, if teary and bloodshot, eyes. "Daddy, if you really gave him a chance—"

"Sweetpea," he said, such an adoring pet name losing its charm when he said it so sternly, "it's too late for that. You had sex with this boy, didn't you?"

You choked, looking away.

"Just don't make me go to camp this year, please," you sighed. "Please, Daddy, I wanna stay in Hawkins—"

"So you can do what? Spend more time with this boy who doesn't even have the respect to come speak to me himself and ask me for permission to court you?" he frowned. "Ride around in his decrepit van? Get pregnant?"

You let go of the tight hug you'd had him in; you'd spent your life crying to your Daddy about whatever upset you, and up until now, you'd pretty much always gotten your way. Eddie used to make fun of you, call you Daddy's little girl, call you spoiled rotten— but you never really understood what that meant, until now. Until you felt so stupid as you realized he wasn't as kind as you thought he was. He'd buy you anything, he'd let you skip a Latin lesson because you wanted to run around outside or not eat your greens because you didn't like them, but that wasn't love. You always thought he was proud of you, and that was why he liked to show you off at debutante balls and dinner parties.

But it had never been about you… it had been about him, and his perfect family. His beautiful wife and demure, well-behaved daughter. You were more like a porcelain doll to him, dressed up in little silk outfits and put behind glass.

You stepped back, bewildered and heartbroken by the way he was looking at you.

"You asked not to go to Cape Cod this summer? You won't," he informed you, but his tone made it obvious this was not going to be good news. "You'll go to a Catholic program for wayward girls—"

"No," you blurted out, under your breath.

"In rural France—" he continued.

You couldn't breathe, you felt like you were going to faint. "No, no no no…"

"—where you can practice your French, relearn your morals," he added, especially pointedly, "and spend time with the nuns. They'll set you straight."

"Daddy, no!" you yelped. "I won't go! You can't make me go!"

"I absolutely can!" he bellowed in return. Daddy was scary when he was angry, his voice was loud and echoed around any room, and you'd always run away and hid when you heard him yelling at a business partner who made a mistake or a housekeeper who broke something… but the way he spoke next was nothing like that. No yelling, no stomping his foot or pointing his finger, just a red face and breathing heavily through his flared nostrils. It was much scarier.

"If you act like a whore, you get treated like one," he informed you with searing coldness. "You remember that when you're with that boy, telling him that you will never see him again—"

"I hate you!" you choked out with your sob, shoving your father away before running for the door.

You heard your parents calling after you, but you tumbled out onto the porch and down the steps, grabbing your bike where you'd left it leaning against the whitewashed wood.

It was sort of tricky to ride a bike while constantly wiping tears away, but you made it all the way to Eddie's trailer without falling off. You nearly jumped off your bike to run to his door, never properly braking and just letting it fall on its side— the little bell dinged quietly when you dropped it, like a weak protest to the mistreatment, but you ignored it as you stumbled up to Eddie's door and knocked frantically.

It was a little too cold out for just your yellow dress and a cardigan, but you hadn't been planning to be out this late. You'd been planning on getting out of going to summer camp in Massachusetts, going to bed with a smile on your face, and waiting until after school tomorrow to tell Eddie the good news. God, you were so stupid…

Shivering and clutching your arms across your chest, you knocked rapidly on the door again— and Eddie finally swung the door open.

"I was just— oh, princess, what's wrong?" he asked, reaching for you instantly as you started to cry harder again. "Are you okay? Please tell me everything's okay…"

"Everything's…" you started, sniffling and trying to compose yourself enough to speak intelligibly while he ushered you inside, "everything's gone wrong, Eddie, it's so wrong…"

"Hey, shh," he soothed, pulling you into him and guiding your head to rest on his chest. His hands rubbed your back and you sighed, melting into him. "Just tell me what happened."

"I-it was going to be a surprise," you explained. "I was going to get out of equestrian camp this summer, and I was going to stay here— with you! We were gonna have the whole summer together… a-and it was gonna be perfect."

Eddie sighed; he must've realized where this was going, to a certain extent.

"But when I asked my parents if I could miss camp and stay home, they… Mama knew, she asked about you right away… I'm not much of a liar, Eddie, you know that."

In fact, he told you all the time: I know something's wrong, don't try to pretend. You're not a very good liar, princess, I know you want me. Don't lie, princess, I can tell you're getting wet…

"She said the most awful things," you whimpered, "and Daddy… he said he was going to make me go to France, just to keep me away from you. H-he called me a whore."

"He what?!" Eddie snapped, lifting your head away from his chest to look down at your face with wild eyes. "Princess, how could he say that to you?"

"I— I don't—"

You stopped when he reached up, holding your face and carefully swiping his thumb over your right cheek. You remembered there were cuts there, and you glanced down at the floor sheepishly, focusing on his dirty combat boots standing on either side of your shiny white Mary Janes. "Did he hit you?" Eddie asked, seriously and softly.

"No…" you whimpered, getting nervous to tell him the truth as he waited silently for the rest of your answer. "Mama did."

He sighed slowly, saying so much with just one breath. You'd realized you'd never really seen him angry before, not genuinely. But the weight of his breath showed how furious he was. "Those people…" he trailed off. Shaking his head, the anger seemed to fade and he gave you a gentle kiss right on your wounded cheek. "This pretty face, all cut up… it's just not right, princess."

You shut your eyes as he kissed your lips next, as tender and gentle as ever. If only your parents could see this, if only they could understand how sweet and patient he was with you, then maybe they wouldn't be trying to ruin your life.

"I can't let you go back to that house," he informed you. "If you go back there, they may not ever let you back out again— they won't let us see each other again."

You blinked up at him as he carefully wiped your tears away.

"So, don't go back," he pleaded. "They'll hurt you again— I can't let that happen."

You chewed your lip for a second. "Eddie, I can't stay here, they're going to send the police for me— they probably already have…"

"Then they won't find us here," he decided. "We'll go somewhere!"

"Where?"

"Anywhere! Wherever you wanna go. We'll drive there together and it'll be the way it's meant to be— us, just us."

He pulled your face closer and kissed your forehead, squishing your cheeks in his ringed hands. "Eddie," you mumbled, wincing playfully. "Are you offering to kidnap me?"

"Offering? Princess, I'm deciding," he grinned, grabbing you at your shoulders as you started to laugh a bit through your tears. "Just tell me where we're going."

You bit your lip as you thought about that. In a way, you were proving your parents right: this boy was about to steal you away, take you far from Hawkins in his beat-up old van, with no money and no plan.

"Come on," he encouraged, "you know just as well as I do that we're meant to be together. Forever."

It was a promise you'd made, just before he took your virginity. You were raised to believe that was something you saved for your soulmate, and though you knew it was certainly not what your parents would want for you, not being married yet didn't bother you much. Before Eddie, waiting never felt like a chore— and then suddenly it was excruciating, and he'd stopped you from taking things further more than a few times due to his fear that you would regret him being your first time. And then there was that perfect night, just over a week ago now, on a blanket by Lover's Lake. It was everything you thought it was supposed to be— sweet, sensual, beautiful— and so much more. And you'd sworn then that this was it, that there was nobody else for you and that you'd hold each other for the rest of your lives. Maybe it was your girlish naivete, but in your mind it was all but an engagement.

And this? Escaping together, fleeing your parents and Hawkins and everything you'd ever known? This felt like eloping.

You looked into Eddie's eyes, warm and brown and waiting for your answer with that sparkle in them like almost always. "Um…" you stalled, "well, when I was little, my whole family went to the beach in California. I've wanted to go back, see the ocean again…"

He grabbed you by your face again and kissed you, eyes shut tight; you could taste his latest cigarette and you could smell his aftershave, you could feel his optimism in the way he moved his lips against yours.

When he pulled back, he had another massive smile on his face that made the anxiety just melt away in a moment.

"Everything's gonna be alright now," he promised. "It's gonna be how it's supposed to be: us, together, with nobody there to stop us."

You nodded, still sniffling as you recovered from crying, and smiled as he kissed your tears away.

"I-I'm just gonna grab some stuff," he decided, "and we're gonna leave tonight. We'll be in California by Saturday."

~ ♡ ~

Not having had a chance to pack your own clothes, you'd been borrowing Eddie's for a while. You didn't exactly feel like yourself in a Motörhead shirt, but you loved being wrapped up in the smell of him.

That first night, Eddie had driven for fifteen hours straight before you insisted that he get some rest. The mattress in the back was straight from his bedroom in the trailer, so it brought some much-needed familiarness to such a foreign situation.

Breakfast at hole-in-the-wall diners all along the highway, stops at scenic outlooks and parks where you could stretch your legs, nights spent pulled over in the woods so you could sleep in peace (or, maybe, not sleep at all)… it was all a routine now, and the luxury of your old life was just a collection of memories now.

At times, you missed your family, your friends from school, your room and your shower and your favorite stuffed animal. But being with Eddie all the time was worth it, and you’d seen more of the country than ever on your road trip adventure.

“Can I help you find something, sweetheart?” a woman asked, and you turned to see an employee with a plastic name tag— DARLA, it read— watching you peruse the aisle of pre-packaged snacks.

“O-oh, no, thank you,” you smiled.

“You seem pretty young to be here by yourself,” she noticed.

“I’m eighteen— and I’m not by myself,” you assured, “my boyfriend’s here— he’s just using the restroom.”

“Oh, I see,” she nodded. “Your… parents know you’re here, don’t they?”

You wrinkled your eyebrows together. “Of course,” you lied, “we’re driving to visit them now, while we’re on break from college. Wh-why do you ask?”

“I’m sorry to pry, honey,” she sighed, “I just saw something on the news, and you look a little bit like this missing girl out of Indiana—”

You didn’t even hear what she said after that, you didn’t even stay to listen— you stormed across the gas station store, towards where a small TV mounted under the corner of the ceiling was showing the morning news. It was just politics at first, until the banner across the bottom of the screen changed to DRUG DEALER KIDNAPS INDIANA GIRL. You nearly screamed when you saw a picture of you, and a picture of Eddie, next to each other in the superimposed graphic.

“This news coming out of Hawkins, Indiana,” the reporter read, “the parents of an eighteen-year-old girl—”

Eighteen, as in, an adult, who left consensually, you wished you could yell at the TV, but all you could do was start to numbly cry.

“— are asking national authorities for assistance in locating their daughter, who disappeared from their home Wednesday evening. Local police suspect that a known criminal in the area, Eddie Munson— who is also missing— may be responsible and is wanted for his potential involvement.”

You saw the door to the men’s room start to open, and before Eddie could walk out, you dashed over to him and shoved him back in, locking the door behind you. “Hey!” Eddie protested, though he gave you a tilted grin as you pinned him to the wall. “Hey,” he purred, apparently misinterpreting your intentions with locking yourselves in the bathroom together.

“Eddie, oh god,” you breathed, “I—”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching down to hold your face. “Did something happen?”

“I— the news,” you managed to choke out, “we’re on the news, they’re saying you kidnapped me—”

“Well, I mean,” he shrugged, “I sorta did—”

“Eddie, please,” you whimpered, “this— this is really bad… the police are looking for us. Both of us.”

You weren’t sure how this happened, but you could guess; the Hawkins police probably, rightfully, told your parents that a woman of majority leaving her parents’ home is not a crime, and neither is having a boyfriend that they dislike. And then your parents flashed their money around until someone listened, and they managed to convince some sheriff that because Eddie had a past with the law, you were in some kind of danger. And then they took their money to any news station that would take it, and spread the story across the country. You were supposed to make it to the beach today, but you weren’t sure if it was safe to go anymore, or where this news was being shown…

“I don’t wanna go back,” you cried quietly, and he clicked his tongue sympathetically as he pulled your head into his chest.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he promised, “you’re not going back.”

“They’re gonna find us, Eddie, they’re gonna take me away from you—” you began to rush, your head swirling with thoughts and your heart pounding with anxiety. He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look up at him, and you tried to calm yourself a little with your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Nobody can take you away from me,” he insisted sternly. “Ever. Do you hear me?”

You nodded, and he softened a bit, kissing your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you.

“We’re gonna work this out,” he stated confidently. “We’re gonna figure something out, okay? And everything’s gonna be how it’s supposed to be.”

Quickly, he had a plan, and he told you all you had to do was keep watch. He told you to stand near the back of the gas station, and stop anyone from coming to where he’d parked the van. He never told you why, but you figured it would make sense soon. Nervously tapping your foot, you tried not to look suspicious— or noticeable at all, really, with your face all over the news now— and waited for Eddie to finish whatever he was doing.

You could hear what he was doing, but you couldn’t quite tell what it was… just random clinking and banging of metal, not much to work with. “Okay, finished,” he announced, and you turned the corner to find him smiling as he stared at the back of his van, a screwdriver tucked under his crossed arms. “Voila!”

Stepping next to him and looking at the back bumper with him, you reacted instantly to the sight of a Nevada license plate. “Wh— how did you—?” you began, but you glanced over to a beat-up old truck with a missing tire that was apparently abandoned behind this gas station— specifically, you saw that it suddenly had Indiana plates.

“It’ll slow them down,” he promised, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and giving the top of your head a kiss. “Told you I’d work it all out, didn’t I?”

You swallowed, a little nervous to know he’d had to take these measures for your sake. Up until now, you hadn’t actually done anything wrong… this, though, was an actual crime. Still, a lot of people do little things like this— like dealing weed, like making an illegal U-turn or being late to get their registration done.

That was what you kept telling yourself as you sat in the passenger set, legs curled up to your chest while you bit your nails and blankly watched the Nevada desert roll by: that this was normal. That this was all fine. Not great, maybe, not ideal; but fine.

“Hey,” you heard Eddie’s voice, and it tore you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” you mumbled, and he kept his eyes on the road as he swatted your hand away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that,” he corrected.

“Sorry— m’just nervous,” you admitted.

“What for?” he wondered.

“I mean— this is all pretty crazy, Ed,” you admitted. “I knew my parents weren’t going to understand, but getting the police involved? I just didn’t think it would be like this…”

“Listen, princess,” he sighed, “I get it. It’s scary— and your parents, they’ve been, like, over you your whole life, telling you what to say and how to dress and how to conform and everything… so they seem like this huge threat, like you can never really escape them, right? But you can. You did.”

He gave you a glance, as long as he could while driving on the highway, and you offered him your best I’m-totally-not-freaking-out smile in return.

“And the cops? Cops are no big deal,” he scoffed. “Deal with ‘em all the time. Still, if you wanna throw them off a little more, I could always do something to, you know, look different—”

He reached up with one hand to tousle his mane of wavy hair for a second, and you gasped. “No, Eddie,” you interrupted, “not your hair— you shouldn’t have to do that.”

“Okay, okay,” he smiled, “you’d miss it too much, I know. So would I. Maybe we should cut your hair, though…”

You nervously reached up to your own hair, suddenly self-conscious about it in more ways than one. “You think so?” you pressed quietly.

“I mean, if you’re up for it,” he shrugged, “but like I said— we’re gonna be fine. It’s really not that bad, princess— people go ‘missing’ all the time, and they’re really just going somewhere new like we are. And speaking of somewhere new…”

He pointed to the road ahead, and you saw the sign: Thanks for visiting Nevada— and then you saw the next one— Welcome to California.

“We made it,” he smiled. “Just a few more hours until we reach the ocean.”

But the sun had already set, and the last tints of orange were leaving the sky— the desert would be in total darkness in less than ten minutes. “Should we pull over for the night soon?” you asked. Something about being late made you especially nervous, even though if you were thinking more clearly, you might’ve realized that night was the safer time to travel while on the run from the law.

“If you want to,” he offered. “You wanna cuddle, don’t you?”

You nodded, and he smiled wide.

“Of course you do,” he hummed, “just lemme find a good place to park the car and we can go to bed, okay?”

When he pulled off the highway, kicking up clouds of red dirt with his tires on his way to a good, shady spot to rest for the night, you leaned back in the seat and shut your eyes. It’s going to be okay— Eddie said so, it’s really going to be alright…

“Come on, hop on back,” he suggested as he put the car in park and turned off the engine and headlights. You climbed over the console first, plopping down onto the mattress in the back with a sigh. He smiled at you as he followed you, climbing on top of you as his necklace dangled over your face. With his hands on either side of your head, he bent down to kiss you, sweet and familiar; it made you feel better, and took your mind off of your worries.

You reached up to start trying to push his denim jacket off his shoulders, and he moved his kisses down to your neck. “Oh!” you gasped when he grazed his teeth over your pulse. It almost hurt, it was almost too much— but then again, you were wrapping your legs around his hips, so it must not have bothered you that much.

A quiet, but deep, chuckle from him echoed inside the crook of your neck, just before he pulled away to look down at you again. “You look so good in my clothes,” he smiled, reaching up under the borrowed shirt to touch your waist, “but you look better without them.”

You giggled as he helped you take the shirt off, groaning a little at the sight of your bare chest underneath. He instantly latched onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it as his hands held onto you a little tighter, and you relaxed into his embrace with a sigh.

“Princess,” he mumbled against your skin, reaching lower to start tugging your panties down, “fuck, you’re beautiful. And you’re all mine, huh?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Yours— forever.”

You’d started saying that, since the first night on the road; you were just so ecstatic to be together, not having to hide it anymore or worry about your parents or sneak out quietly in the middle of the night. The problem was, that was sort of what this thing had become, in the end: hiding, worrying, sneaking in the middle of the night. Wasn’t that what you were doing right now?

That thought fell to the back of your mind as he gently opened your legs, taking off his own clothes hastily before slotting his body right up to yours. “Eddie,” you moaned as he slid his cock over you, soaking his erection quickly in your arousal. You never kept your resolve for long when he teased you like that. “Please, I-I need you…”

“Where?” he asked. “Where do you need me, princess?”

“M-my… in my—” you choked, struggling to say the word. You managed to get it out (he’d been helping you get more comfortable with all this, slowly), but only when you whispered it: “my pussy…”

He laughed a little, and it made you feel even more insecure until he pushed his cock inside you— and then you weren’t thinking about anything else but how incredible it felt. “Aw, so innocent,” he cooed, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes as he began to move his hips back and forth. “Not as innocent as you used to be… guess I ruined you, didn’t I?”

You whined. “N-no, you didn’t— you made me perfect, Eddie…”

Laying down over you, he kept himself propped up on one bent arm as the other reached for your thigh, squeezing the delicate skin every time he filled you to the brim. “Fuck, you are perfect,” he agreed, “and so tight for me, always… still feel like a virgin, princess.”

You moaned far louder than you meant to when he started to suck on your neck, reaching up to grab onto the backs of his shoulders as your back arched harder.

“Y’don’t act like one anymore, though,” he added with a short laugh.

Grabbing your hips, he pulled you up to meet his own, forcing you to take him deeper than before— and you choked on your whine, digging your nails into his back.

“Not too much, is it?” he panted. “You can take all of me, right?”

Admittedly, you hesitated, but you did nod and he kissed your cheek.

“I know you can,” he agreed. “Such a good girl for me, yeah? Gonna take all this dick in your little cunt?”

The next thrust hit so deep, and so hard, that tears immediately sprung to your eyes— but you nodded again.

“C’mon, baby, say it,” he encouraged.

“I— I’m gonna take it all,” you promised, your own voice higher and more wavering than you expected it to sound.

“Yeah you are,” he grunted, fucking you faster, and you buried your face in the space between his neck and shoulder— you gasped in breaths against his skin, and he held you a little tighter.

His pace was speeding up, making your whole body rock as it was forced to go limp. “E-Eddie,” you sobbed. He started to kiss just under your jaw, and you knew that he knew how close you were— and yet, you still felt the need to announce it. “I’m gonna come, Eddie!”

“Shh, I know,” he soothed, “let it happen, princess— just come on my cock, fuckin’ soak me.”

Whimpering, your thighs started to shake and your head fell back. It gave him the perfect view of your face: he watched you with dark eyes and a mouth gone slack as he fucked you through your orgasm. He told you before that you scrunched your whole face up right before you came, and that he thought it was adorable. You were still a bit shy about it, but you did like knowing that he loved the way you reacted to how he made you feel.

“That’s it, fuck,” he praised, and you felt his fingertips dig into your skin a little harder. He slipped one arm under your neck, grabbing you at your shoulder, and used it to keep you steady as he started fucking you even harder, and faster… just ruthlessly, really.

“Eddie!” you shouted. You were trying to get him to slow down, but the words just wouldn’t come out, it was all screaming moans as he relentlessly slammed into your spot— more sensitive and swollen than ever, having just come and all.

Hoping to get your message across non-verbally, you reached down and tried to push on his thighs, but he was so much stronger than you and it didn’t seem to deter him at all. “You can take it,” he insisted under his breath, his own groans getting louder as he chased his release.

You dug your nails into his skin, not even really intentionally— you just needed a break, just a moment to process everything. Your eyes were shut tightly, but you heard him growl as his hands moved down to yours. He grabbed you by the wrists and pinned them down on either side of your head, rubbing his thumbs over your palms soothingly.

“Don’t fight it,” he ordered, “I know what you need.”

And god, he was right— he changed his pace, slower if not quite slow, passionate and focused. You breathed more naturally then, giving into the onslaught of sensation while he kissed you again. His kiss was just as gently dominant as everything else, his tongue exploring deep into your mouth— like he was trying to taste every sound of pleasure you made. You were babbling your affections from the moment that he broke away from your lips. "I love you, Eddie," you sobbed softly, "I love you so much…"

"Shh, I know, princess," he whispered back, "I love you, too."

He didn’t take much longer to come, filling you with a long, low groan and a whisper of your name. He released your wrists eventually, opting to hold you tightly instead. In a moment he seemed to gain all his energy back, rapidly shifting from panting and exhausted to peppering kisses all over your face. “Eddieeeee,” you whined, but you were laughing, too.

“Love you so much,” he mumbled. “God, you can’t even imagine how much.”

“I bet I can,” you replied. “I bet it’s how much I love you.”

“No, no— more than that,” he decided.

“What?! Eddie, don’t say that,” you frowned.

“It’s true,” he insisted. “I love you so much that this pretty little head of yours would explode if you knew—” he accented his statement by holding his fingers up to the side of your head and spreading them, making a pshh sound through his teeth to do his impression of an explosion.

You laughed and shoved him lightly on his bare chest. “You’re silly,” you mumbled, laughing more as he nuzzled his face against you, tickling you with the tip of his nose and his fluffy hair.

That was the way you fell asleep, tangled in his arms. You never slept as well as you did when he was holding you, even on a ratty old mattress in a beat-up van in the abandoned desert, even separated from your loved ones and so painfully far from home.

~ ♡ ~

The knocking didn’t wake you up— only Eddie grabbing you and shaking you awake, whispering to you in a rushed voice, made you begin to stir. “Princess,” he snapped, and you awakened as quickly as you could. It was still pitch dark outside… except for the flashlight shining into the driver’s side window.

“E-Eddie, what’s going—?” you started to ask, but he pressed a finger over your lips before pulling the blanket up to your neck.

“There’s a state trooper outside,” he informed you, just as there was another knock on the window, and your eyes went wide but you remembered not to say anything.

“Stay in the van,” Eddie hissed. “Don’t move or say anything until I come back, you hear me? Stay in the van.”

You nodded quickly, blinking away the watering of your eyes. He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before he tossed the blanket over your face and hopped back up into the driver’s seat.

Another knock on the window made you startle with a jolt under the blanket, but you did your best to stay perfectly still and completely silent. “I’m sorry, sir— is this a no-parking zone?” Eddie asked as soon as he’d started rolling the window down.

“That’s not the issue— I was just noticing that your van matches the description of a suspected kidnapping out of Indiana,” the officer explained.

“Oh! Huh, that’s… actually not that unlikely, is it? A lot of cheap old vans out there on the road,” Eddie pointed out.

“Yes, but yours has a hole in the bumper, in the same place the one we’re looking for does,” the officer replied.

You struggled to keep your crying silent; was Eddie going to be arrested because of you? This was all your fault, you knew it—

“You don’t know anything about a missing girl, do you?” the trooper pressed. “Eighteen years old, about yea high—” you stopped paying attention as he continued rattling off a few basics of your description. They’d been right on your tail the whole time, hadn’t they?

“No, can’t say that I do,” Eddie answered.

“Well, then it shouldn’t be much trouble if I search the back of your van, right?”

You shuddered, biting down on the blanket over your head and praying that Eddie would find some way out of this. “Honestly, officer, it’s a bit inconvenient— I was just sleeping here and now I’m being asked about some girl, but I don’t know anything about that. I’ve been living out of this van for weeks, so it’s like you’re asking to search my home. And I really would just prefer to get back to sleep, honestly, I’ve got a lot of driving ahead of me tomorrow—”

“It won’t take long,” the officer insisted.

“That’s not my concern,” Eddie replied firmly. “You don’t have a warrant and I’d just prefer that you leave.”

“Your lack of cooperation could be considered probable cause,” the officer shot back.

“Only if you don’t care much for the constitution,” Eddie spat.

“And if I call the station and have them run your plates,” the trooper countered, “they’re going to come back to this vehicle, correct? Not, say, a 1967 Ford that reported its plates stolen this morning?”

There was a silence. A long, terrifying silence. Eddie said nothing. You weren’t even breathing. The trooper was the one that spoke next.

“Sir, I’m gonna need you to step out of the vehicle.”

You heard the door open, and shut. Steps around the vehicle outside, some talking you couldn’t make out. Knowing you were alone in the van, you let yourself start to quietly weep. It’s over, it’s all over—

The unmistakable, deafening sound of a gunshot outside made you scream in shock. “Eddie!” you shrieked, jumping up and using the blanket to cover your nudity as you hastily swung open the van doors from the inside.

You weren’t ready to see it, to see your boyfriend bleeding on the road, to see that cop point the gun at you next— you weren’t ready to imagine how your life would go on without him.

So, maybe it was a good thing that that wasn’t what you saw. But what you were looking at instead terrified you possibly even more. Eddie was standing there, holding a revolver, still as a statue as he looked at the officer on the ground beneath him. The man on the ground was still alive— breathing shakily, wide-eyed and shivering violently as his hands moved towards the growing patch of deep-red blood on his chest, but still alive. The click of the revolver turning made you look at the gun again, seeing Eddie aim it once more and begin to press down on the trigger.

It was like a horrible nightmare, the way you opened your mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The second gunshot was so loud, it forced you to wince— which spared you from seeing the exact moment that hole appeared in the trooper’s forehead, the moment his expression went blank and his whole body went limp.

When you opened your eyes again, Eddie was looking back at you over his shoulder. “I told you to stay in the van,” he reminded you flatly.

“E-Eddie,” you breathed, feeling light-headed and sick all of a sudden. “Eddie, what… what have you done?”

He turned to face you, stepping over the body and slipping the revolver back under his belt; you instinctively moved back when he took a step towards you, and his expression changed. “Princess…” he sighed, sounding heartbroken— like he couldn’t believe you were scared of him, but how could you not be? You didn’t even know he had a gun in the van— you didn’t know he could ever hurt someone.

You swallowed thickly. “Eddie,” you whispered, one more time. “What did you do?”

Something entirely new flashed across his expression— it reminded you of the way he looked when you told him that your mother hit you. But this was much, much worse, because this time, it was directed at you. “What did I do?” he repeated, livid. “What did I do?”

You started to cry harder, your ears still ringing from the gunshots, as Eddie stormed up to you, grabbing you by your shoulders roughly.

“I did what you told me to,” he insisted, raising his voice. “I saved you! And now you’re looking at me like I’m a fucking monster!”

“No,” you cried, “no, Eddie, I’m just scared— tell me you didn’t really kill him…”

“What are you scared of?” he laughed— actually laughed, at a time like this, though he didn’t seem particularly amused anymore as his lips curled into a snarl. “You didn’t mean it, did you? When you said you loved me, you were lying—”

“No!” you denied, sobbing so hard that it was barely intelligible anymore. “Eddie, I swear—”

“When you said we’d be together forever,” he continued, his jaw tight and his nostrils flaring. “I meant that, I meant every fucking word, princess.”

“I know,” you agreed, “I know— me too, Eddie, I love you!”

“Really?” he breathed, holding the sides of your face as you sniffled helplessly. “Do you really love me, princess? Don’t lie to me.”

“I love you so much,” you promised, “I’ve only ever loved you… I’m just so scared, I don’t understand—”

Your voice was starting to break, and he soothed you with a shhh and a kiss on the height of your cheekbone. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered, switching back and forth between each cheek, “it can be scary, being in love for the first time. I said nobody’s ever gonna take you from me, princess, don’t you remember that?”

You nodded, but when you glanced away from where his eyes were boring into you, you could see behind him the lifeless hand of the man he’d killed, the puddle of blood navigating through the cracks in the dusty orange earth.

“Hey, don’t look at that,” he corrected you, turning your face so you’d have to look up at him again. “Look at me— that doesn’t matter. This, you and me, this is the only thing that matters, okay? I love you. I love you.”

Swallowing only seemed to make the lump in your throat bigger.

“Do you fucking hear me?” he growled. “I love you!”

“I-I love you too!” you finally choked out.

He slammed his lips onto yours, holding you there long after you tried to push yourself away from him. “Now,” he announced when he pulled back, “get back in the van. We need to go.”

~ ♡ ~

When you got sick on car rides, Mama always told you to look out the window. Well, you couldn’t see out the window from where you were curled up in a ball in the back of the van, your limp body jumping and swaying each time Eddie hit a bump or a turn— but somehow, you didn’t think getting in the passenger and looking at the desolation of rural California was going to help with this particular bout of nausea.

“Come on, come back up to the front,” Eddie pleaded. “I miss you, princess!”

You said nothing, burying your head into one of the pillows strewn over the mattress. It smelled like him— it reminded you of how it felt when you were only safe in his arms. Now you just cried all the time.

When the vehicle came to a stop, and Eddie got out, you wondered if maybe he was just getting gas. Until the back doors opened and he stood between them, arms stretched out wide to each handle, giving you a pouty look with a tilted head. “Poor thing,” he cooed, climbing in with you and shutting the doors behind him. You turned away, you even tried to scoot up closer to the wall, but obviously there was nowhere else to go as he laid down behind you and started to run his hands over you through the thin blanket. “I know you’re… not happy right now. Just tell me how to make you feel better.”

You tried to shrug him away, but his fingertips tickled your waist a bit while his whole body moved a bit closer, trying to coax you out of your hiding place.

“Princeeeesss,” he sing-songed, leaning in a little closer to kiss the back of your neck where the blanket didn’t cover it; you flinched and pulled it up over your head, only for him to yank it off of you roughly. “Hey,” he snapped, “don’t do that. Don’t act like I’m not here. Talk to me.”

Sighing, you rolled onto your back and gave him a quick look— it was all you could stand right now— before you stared up at the rusted ceiling of the van. “What do you want me to say, Ed?” you breathed.

“I want you to say that you’re not mad at me,” he admitted. “I want you to say that you still love me.”

You let out a long breath, reaching up to rub your eyes with the lowest part of your palm, just by your wrist. “I… I’m not mad, Eddie, I’m—”

“Scared, I know,” he finished for you, “you only told me a thousand times.”

You groaned and turned away again, curling up even tighter as he started to backtrack instantly.

“N-no, come on, don’t be like that,” he protested, sliding up behind you and spooning you even though his touch sent a rush of conflicted feelings through your body. “Princess, please— you can’t do this to me, you can’t treat me like this! You’re gonna kill me, I can’t take it— I can’t take not holding you, not kissing you…”

To emphasize his point, he started to kiss a trail along your neck; and as much as your mind swirled with confusion and fear and hurt, your body did respond to it. There was a warmth between your legs, a cry for something familiar and comfortable that only he could provide.

He turned you on to your back again, looking down at you with a tilted, sympathetic sort of frown. “Okay, so maybe I can’t make you happy right now,” he relented, “but…”

He moved a little closer, holding your waist with one hand as he mouthed at your neck.

“But I know I can make you feel good…”

You turned your face away, but he reached up and guided it back with a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a soft, patient kiss.

“I know you didn’t forget this, princess,” he breathed in between moments of slotting his lips with yours. “I know you can’t forget that we’re made for each other. You can feel it, can’t you? When we make love. It’s so right…”

You didn’t stop him when he pulled you closer, when he climbed on top of you, not even when he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You were just about ready to give into it, actually, when his hand started moving lower; and you instantly fought to push his hand away while it was slipping into your shorts. “Eddie, don’t—” you whimpered, but he brushed your hands out of the way and got back to what he was doing.

“No, don’t do that,” he instructed you softly, “I’m just making you feel better, princess— I’m gonna make it better…”

As his fingers expertly explored you, finding those familiar places right away and exploiting them for all they were worth, you shut your eyes tight and struggled to relax beneath him. You knew if you opened your eyes, you’d find him there, staring down at you with those eyes. You could see it all: the way his eyes looked when you first met and he made you feel so dizzy and strange and special; the way they looked when he took your virginity— no, when you gave it to him, when you begged him to have it— that night on Lover’s Lake, under the stars, promising you that this was forever; the way they looked when he told you he was going to whisk you, save you from a summer of solitude in France, that forever wasn’t just real, it was now; the way they looked at you over his shoulder, the gun still in his hand, the world completely still and quiet for a moment, once the sounds of an innocent man begging for his life were silenced.

You didn’t know you were crying, until you felt him kiss your tears away. “You’re doing so good,” he praised, “just like that— so good for me, you’re so beautiful…”

Hoping for a moment of comfort, you clung to him tightly, the building pleasure forcing you to let all of your emotions out; you sobbed, openly, and let every touch awaken your body and silence your mind.

“There you go,” he cooed, holding you tighter in return, “come on my fingers, princess— nice and easy, you know how, just let go—”

Whining his name, the first one hit you. ‘The first one’ because, immediately after that, he held your legs open and climbed on top of you and fucked you, taking you to the edge again as you held onto him for dear life. He didn’t stop talking for more than a moment the whole way through it, promising you that he was going to keep you safe, begging you not to leave him, reminding you of every time you’d told him that you loved him and that you were his.

When he was finished, he kissed all over your shaking body, whispering about how perfect you were. “Do you feel better now, princess?” he asked quietly when his journey of kisses brought him back up to your collarbones.

“I… I feel…” you panted. You didn’t know where to start. “Sleepy,” you finally decided, and you felt him press a smile to your cheek.

“Then fall asleep,” he offered, “I’ll wake you up when we get there, okay? Get some rest… you’ve earned it.”

You were exhausted physically and emotionally, so it didn’t take more than a minute or so once Eddie started driving again for you to lull into dreamlessness. Sleep was a welcome reprieve from existence, from thought and fear and pain. From trying to figure out if you were Eddie’s lover or his prisoner. From remembering how simple, how idyllic your life used to be— no, not perfect, but much easier. From imagining what would happen to you if the police found you again; from wondering what would happen to them if the police found you again.

It was just a shame you didn’t get to sleep longer.

~ ♡ ~

“Wake up, princess,” his voice gently wafted into your ear. “We made it, baby, look…”

You blinked your eyes open, feeling Eddie’s arms wrapped tightly around you— a little too tight. Maybe he still thought you’d run.

But where would you run to? All you could see out of the open back doors of the van was ocean, and sand. The beach was empty; and it was just as beautiful as you remembered. “We’re here,” he told you, kissing your cheek as he held you from behind, cradling you and resting his chin on your shoulder. “This is it— me and you, together. And we can go wherever you wanna go next.”

Shivering slightly, you felt your eyes water again. “I… I wanna go home.”

You should’ve been afraid that it would make him angry, but by now you were so numb… you just said it without thinking. He didn’t get angry, though, at least not on the outside. He just laughed a little and told you, “princess, we are home.”

He seemed to get a little more serious, sighing as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’re my home,” he belabored the point, “you’re my everything, princess. I know this is hard… love is hard, especially when it’s real. Just remember that you love me, okay?”

A gentle kiss landed on your shoulder, then your neck, then your jaw.

“Remember when we promised forever,” he continued, and as tears rolled silently down your expressionless face, he pressed his lips right up to your ear to speak directly into it. “And remember that if your parents come for you, I’ll kill them, too.”

One of the arms that he’d had crossed over your chest reached up, his thumb wiping your tear away on the opposite cheek from where he’d pressed his face up so close to yours— you could feel his hot breath on your skin, and it, along with his body holding yours so tight, kept you from shivering in the chilly morning breeze over the beach.

“You believe me, right?” he whispered, and you nodded slightly. “Good,” he cooed as he kissed your cheek. “I love you so much, princess… you can’t imagine how much. Your pretty little head would explode.”

He held his fingers up to your head, and stretched them out in a mock explosion, hissing the sound into your ear: pshh…

#eddie fic smut #dark eddie #angst

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stevenrogered · 6 months ago

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Are you wearing the- The Chanel boots green breakup shirt? Yeah, I am.

#911 #911edit #911 abc #911 on abc #911 on fox #911 fox #buddie #buddieedit #evan buckley #eddie diaz #oliver stark #ryan guzman #911 spoilers #mystuff #im 99% sure abby's is dark green plaid #if it isnt then sorry lol #truly insane behavior lol #1k

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lillyrob · 8 months ago

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Actual footage of me patently waiting for my favorite author to upload😫😫😫

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darnell-la · 4 months ago

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FRIENDS & CUFFS

summary: y/n has only been curious about Eddie’s handcuffs after they began dating. she wondered why he never used them on her, and at first, long told her she didn’t know anything about that life. she soon found out that Eddie had a lot to teach her.

warnings: quick friends to lovers storyline, making out, fem receiving oral from male, reader weakens after orgasm, slight innocent reader, drug dealer Eddie (not really mentioned), rough sex, bondage (Eddie’s handcuffs/chains), missionary, doggy, no protection, crying, whining, a lot of male noises, pet names, chocking, etc.

note: we haven’t done an Eddie Munson fan fiction in a while. we still love him, so, there will be more. more stranger things in general. you see what I did there? — nevermind.

———

Steve nearly asked Eddie every day since he graduated, when he was going to make a move on y/n. He hated watching the two drink and get close, yet never make a move.

When people would ask them if they were together, or assume, anyone could tell they the nervousness entered the room.

Not too long ago, y/n and Eddie finally made a move. It seemed so perfect how they both leaned in to feel each other’s lips.

“I think we should stop — You’re drunk, and it’s getting late,” Eddie whispered after y/n stopped fake fighting on top of him. “What if I won’t want to sleep just yet?” Y/n asked, a bit shy, but the alcohol in her body, helped her gain confidence.

“You’re drinks, princess, and I’m not. I don’t want you to regret this, and mess our friendship up,” Eddie said, really wanting to taste her, but she was afraid of showing what he’s been wanting to do with her.

“A kiss could never ruin our friendship, Eddie,” y/n said, slightly sounding desperate as her eyes could barely stay open. “Wanna do more than just kiss you, y/n,” Eddie admitted.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at what her best friend said. She thought she was the only one who wanted to experiment with him. She felt nasty, but now, she felt loose.

The two both crashed on each other’s lips, making g out rough but passionate. None of them have kissed like this before. They would’ve never mixed their saliva like this with anyone, but because it’s them, they wanted to do much more.

The night ended with y/n halfway passed out, and Eddie’s face resting on y/n’s thigh, dripping juice from y/n’s throbbing heat. “So good for me — I wanna get used to this,”

Now, the two are dating, happier than ever, but y/n has been curious lately. She didn’t pay much attention when they were just friends, but now that they’re dating, she thought about Eddie’s handcuffs.

Most partners would be jealous, but y/n? She was curious. She thought to herself plenty of times how he would use them on her, and why he hadn’t done it yet. They’ve only been sexual for a short time, but if he were kinky like that, why wouldn’t he mention it?

“You good, sweetheart?” Eddie asked after turning to his girlfriend who seemed to be daydreaming. “Yeah, I was just thinking,” y/n said, not knowing if she should bring this up as a conversation so soon her their relationship.

“What is it? What were you thinking about?” The metalhead asked as he leaned back on his bed, taking his eyes off the weed he was pre-rolling for his rich customers who couldn’t do it on their own.

“So, uh — I noticed the handcuffs, and I was curious,” y/n said as she stared at the cuffs that were basically chains, dangling from a hook in his wall. She knew that had to be for something sexual.

“Hey, y/n, look — I swear on my uncle, I’ve never used them in anyone, and never planned to. I just liked the thought of them near me. I’ve even thought about you in them,” Eddie spoke quietly, a bit embarrassed by his truth.

“Oh, wait, I wasn’t jealous or anything. I just was curious on why you didn’t use them on me yet,” y/n said, making Eddie's eyes widen. For the longest, he had thought y/n was innocent, and she was. She was just open-minded when it came to her boyfriend.

“You’re not ready for that, princess,” Eddie chuckled lightly. “Why not?” Y/n asked, a bit offended as she crossed her arms. “Being restrained means you can’t do anything. I don’t think that it’s a good idea to put you in something like that, knowing you’d wanna get out,”

“What do you mean, want to get out? I can take it,” y/n said, only making the man laugh. “You can’t even take me slow in doggy. What makes you think you can take me deep up front with your pretty hands cuffed?”

Eddie shifted in the bed to cup y/n’s chin, slightly teasing her because they both knew she wasn’t a taker. Especially with his length.

“I-I can take it — It’s not even that bad,” y/n said, making Eddie throw himself back onto his bed with a loud laugh, knowing his uncle wasn’t home to tell him to shut the hell up.

“What!? You’re mean as fuck, you know?” Y/n said as she kept her arms crossed. “Oh, really, baby? I’m sorry, it’s just — You’re a comedian,” Eddie kept laughing, only making y/n roll her eyes.

“C’mon, I’m just pullin’ your tit, baby,” Eddie leaned up to hug y/n, but she moved away. “Babe, don’t start this. I was just kidding,” Eddie tried hugging y/n again, but this time she pushed him away. Of course, not too hard. She was just being dramatic.

“And, that’s why we can’t do what you wanna do. You can’t even handle being picked on a little bit,” Eddie said as he pushed at y/n’s shoulder lightly, slightly feeling bad for what he did.

“Whatever, I’ll be fine,” y/n said, making y/n sigh as he rolled his eyes. “Fine — We can use em, but ion wanna hear none of that cryin', okay?” Eddie jumped off of the bed to get his handcuffs that had dust all over them.

“Really?” Y/n asked, a bit excited, but knowing she wouldn’t be too excited soon. “Ah huh, but only one rule,” Eddie said with a smirk as he untangled the chains. “Yeah?” Y/n innocently asked, not knowing how quick of a turn this would take.

“The only thing stopping me, is our safe word,” before y/n could agree with a smile, Eddie lunged at her, grabbing her quest roughly to cuff them as quick as possible.

“Hey,” y/n said with an eye roll, not knowing he’d get in the mood this fast. “Not a word from you, princess. Let’s see how good you think you can take it,” Eddie said as he placed the chains where they needed to be.

Seeing y/n in this sight, made him harder than he thought he could get. She was always beautiful, but seeing her innocent body slightly retrained, knowing she was actually ready for what was coming, made him want to burst then and there.

“Always thought about tying you up at school. I was a little perv-nerd when it came to you, princess. You always looked and smelled so good — Had to keep myself from throwing you in my van with your hands and legs tied,”

Eddie was in an emotion he couldn’t control. He was either not sure about putting his pretty girl through this, or he was getting too dark to the point he would black out and not remember anything he’d do to her tonight.

“Pretties thighs — Pretties body — Pretties fucking face,” Eddie slightly growled as he gripped y/n’s face. The younger girl whined with huge eyes, feeling her heat get wet.

“I know, baby — Hearts probably rising. Maybe a hint of fear, knowing you can’t get loose — Don’t worry. You know, I’ll take good care of you,”

Eddie quickly began tugging on y/n’s clothes until parts of her showed more than before. She had already had her night dress in, so exposing her bra-covered breast was easy.

“You sure you want this y/n because, fuck — I won’t be able to stop myself,” Eddie warned as he climbed on top of y/n, pulling her dress up as she slightly moved at his cold hands grazing her skin.

“U-Use me — Please,” y/n stuttered, not knowing if she should’ve said it. “What’s the safe word?” Eddie asked in a stern tone. “Red,” y/n said, feeling her heart raise. This was actually happening, and she only had to question him once.

“Good girl,” Eddie grunted as he reached into his jeans to pull himself out. “And, that’s the only thing I wanna hear from you tonight,” Eddie said as he pulled y/n’s panties to the side.

“I-I’ll try,” y/n spoke, making Eddie shake his head with a chuckle. “You’re always doing a terrible job. Just means I’ll have to start off rough,” before anything, Eddie doubly pushed through y/n’s walls, causing her to cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Yeah? You feel that? Feel how deep I am inside of you? I told you doggy would be the only position you could truly handle — This is next level,” Eddie couldn’t stop but grin down at the struggles woman.

“S-So much,” y/n whined low, only making Eddie shush her. “Nah uh, what did I say? Didn’t I say to keep that pretty mouth closed? Hm? — You’re the one who wanted this, so accept the journey,”

Eddie grabbed both sides of y/n’s waist before pushing down onto the mattress. Y/n knew he was positioning himself to fuck her rough. He’s never gone too rough, but she asked for it tonight.

“Hush it up, princess — You wanted it,” Eddie continued saying as he pounded down into y/n, going the deepest he could get at the start of his session. After being handcuffed, there would be no room for taking it slow.

“E-Eddie,” y/n cried out as she pulled one of her restraints. At times, she’d forget that she wouldn’t be able to get out. “Wanna break free? Keep trying, princess — Makes this so much hotter,” Eddie growled with a smile, looking down at the way y/n pulled on the chains.

“This is the tightest you’ve ever been — The way you’re soaking around me, only makes me closer,” Eddie felt himself twitch. He didn’t want to cum this quick, but it didn’t matter. He’s always been able to keep going.

“Eddie- Eddie, you — The condoms. You forgot the condoms,” y/n took forever to say what she was trying to say. “Oh, really? Guess that’s your luck, hm?” Eddie leaned in front of y/n’s face.

Deep down, Eddie felt bad for slipping into her without protection. He had completely forgotten, but he didn’t want to get out of character. He had to somehow make sure y/n was 100% with what was going on.

“Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me. Tell me!” Eddie slightly yelled as he snapped his hips, wanting to keep his work going. He could feel the way she fluttered around him. She was so close.

“Too much, Eds — I’m gonna cum,” y/n made the mistake of telling him how close she was. “And, you want me to stop? When you’re so close? C’mon,” Eddie leaned into y/n’s ear so she could hear his groans better.

The room was filled with wet slaps, whining, growling, and a bunch is cuss words from Eddie. He couldn’t keep himself together. This situation was too much for him. He was going to explode.

“E-Eddie, slow down — Please,” y/n tried begging the man, but he wouldn’t listen. Why would he? She hadn’t used the safe word yet. “Want me to slow down?” Eddie asked as he leaned up.

“Yes, yes,” y/n huffed, surprised he actually slowed down. She had thought he got soft, but little did she know, he was just getting a short break. “Want me to be nicer? Take it easy on you?” He asked as he softly placed his hands around her neck.

“Please-“ y/n was cut off by the grip of his hands. “Then you asked the wrong one to chain you up, sweetheart,” Eddie spat before he began slamming into her, making the young lady cry out instantly.

“E-Eds! C-Can’t anymore — I can’t!” Y/n kicked and arched her back, trying to control herself, but her cunt continued to squeeze around Eddie, only assuring him that he was doing exactly what she wanted. Using her.

“That’s it — Keep struggling — You’re going nowhere, and this isn’t even the beginning — I have so many loads I’ve been wanting to empty into you,” Eddie tightened his grip a bit more to hear her struggle for air.

For a second, Eddie thought he might have been going too far tonight. Quickly handcuffing her, saying mean things, pinning her down, and fucking get rougher than he’s ever done.

The only thing that helped him was her words. She never once came close to the word red. She would’ve said it by now, and she would never come to him later and say she was uncomfortable. Y/n wasn’t like that.

That’s how Eddie knew y/n probably enjoyed this more than him. She loved faking that she needed him to stop. He even saw a small pour from her when he slowed down a few minutes ago.

“C-Cumming — Cunming,” y/n’s body stiffened before she shook. “That’s it- That’s it — Fucking take it,” the older man growled as he pounded her, wanting her juice to splash anywhere it could.

“Ian stoppin’ either, baby — Told you to keep that fucking mouth shut, didn’t I?” Eddie asked, but y/n didn’t answer. Her eyes were landing everywhere but on him. She felt out of it already.

“Didn’t I!?” The man shouted as he shook y/n by her neck to catch her attention. “S-Sorry,” tears streamed from her eyes, upset at herself for not taking it like she swore she could.

Right as Eddie went to assure her that she was fine, she spoke, shocking him.

“I-I’ll be good, I promise. Please cum in me. D-Don’t pull out and punish me,” she cried. “I’ll do anything, Eds, just- Please, use me,”

“Jesus’s H. Christ,” Eddie huffed as he pulled out. He quickly turned his girlfriend around, knowing the chains were long enough for her to be comfortable. He took no time to push back in her, roughly, with a warning.

Y/n wanted to speak out loud to thank him, he she kept quiet. She wanted to be good like she promised.

“You’re just a slut, y/n — A dirty fucking slut, and I knew it from how you dressed at parties — You always got drunk before you sat on my lap, facing me- Dragging that pretty pussy across my clothes cock — Swore you even stained my jeans, once,”

Y/n whined, happy that he noticed his much she wanted him before they got together. Yeah, a bit of embarrassment was felt, but the thought of being caught was what made her close to another orgasm.

“You’re in for a ride with me, princess. Especially after I coat these walls,”

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cemeterylight · 5 months ago

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eddie loves steves yellow jumper but only wears it at home because he’s “got an image to uphold, steve”

#all grebs do this btw #the most dark kvlt guy you know is probably wearing orange socks or something #my brat green boxers for example #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanart #stranger things #my art

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hello-sweetheart · 6 months ago

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I see your “Everybody is scared of Eddie cuz he’s intimidating, but he’s just a fluffy nerdy boy”

and raise you

“Eddie is a fluffy nerdy boy to those he likes but really is fucking scary.”

Cuz that bottle scene was fucking crazy tbh he sprung tf up and was at Steve’s jugular with shard of glass before anyone could move.

Just pinned to wall by an unpredictable fugitive scared to breathe cuz one wrong move and Steve could bleed out before they have the chance to get help. And Eddie’s eyes are dark as shit and intense locked on his and the hand holding the glass is still. Unwavering.

And at that point all steve knows about this guy is that he lives in a sketchier part of town, behaved neurotic and reactive at school, is a drug dealer, and listens to songs about satan or whatever.

And even after they talk him down he’s still gripping to the bottle

#bros a shark #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanon #steddie #steddie headcanon #steddie prompt #fic idea #dark eddie munson #like yes bro reacted this way cuz he was traumatized but traumatized behavior doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous 🥲

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2jihiir0 · 1 month ago

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A commission for the Bluesky Giveaway winner @deadchosenking

✦•┈⋅⋯⚜️⋯⋅┈•✦

The prince and his valiant knight 🥀🗡️

#steddie #steddie commission #art commissions #knight Eddie Munson #Prince Steve Harrington #knight and Prince #dark knight Eddie #he finds any excuse to rescue (kidnap) the little princeling #commissions open

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morganbritton132 · 1 month ago

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Steve: *sleep deprived, slightly concussed, and still can’t get the taste of burnt Demogorgon flesh out of his mouth, following Nancy around the library*

Steve: *also late*

Steve: Oh, shit. Nance, I gotta go make up that test. I’ll see ya.

Steve: *kisses her on the cheek*

Steve: Love ya, baby. Bye. *leaves*

Eddie: *just trying to find a book about dragons when Steve Harrington leans over his shoulder and plants a big kisses on the side of his face*

Eddie:

Eddie: Maybe ‘83 will be my year

Nancy, at the end of the aisle:

#Steve’s got bad eyesight and punched in the head last week #He sees dark curly hair and he kisses them #if Nancy suddenly has stubble? it wouldn’t be the newest thing to discover this month #meanwhile Eddie is daydreaming about getting kissed on the mouth and plotting how to be in this exact same situation again #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler

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filthy-baee · 2 years ago

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Will be posted today/tomorrow (depends where you live)! It's the first part! I hope you like it! If you wanna be tagged, hmu! ♡

Sneek peak for the next fanfiction

Note: I am curently writing on the first part of a series. I am re-writing it like the 5th time and I am still not happy with it, so I hope I can finish it this week. I try to post a new fanfiction every friday or saturday. But here is a little something. Comments are really appreciated. 🩷✨️

Warnings: Dark!Eddie, Bully!Eddie, Mean!Eddie, dubcon

Eddie pretended to be thinking really hard, tapping with his finger on his chin. He walked around a little, his long hair flowing around him. Y/N couldn't take her eyes off of him, as he came closer again. "Hmm, what about this, sweetheart? You do everything I say for - hm, let us say - a month. How does this sound?" he asked her sweetly, standing right in front of her again. She tried to look away from him, his gaze too much for her. Eddie's hand grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. His pupils were blown, dark gaze following her every move. "Like...like a- a...slave?" she mumbled and whispered the last word, feeling embarrassed just by saying it.

#eddie munson #eddie #eddie smut #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #dark eddie #dark!eddie #mean!eddie #bully!eddie

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unlikelykidpost · 2 months ago

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This is my first time posting here, but I really want to hear from my fellow POC. Is anyone else tired of reading stories where it’s all about the main character x reader? You dive in, expecting a really inclusive narrative, but then it hits you: “Their cheeks glowed pink!” Seriously? Where am I getting that rosy hue? Or when the character casually puts their hair into an easy ponytail—come on, it takes me forever just to get my hair in a ponytail! You know what I mean, right..??

It's frustrating when the story drops hints that suggest the 'reader' is white. It really grinds my gears, and I wish writers would stop doing that, or at least include a warning that the reader character is going to be white. I want stories to be genuinely inclusive and for writers to be more flexible in how they describe characters. It’s disappointing when you can tell that a writer based their characters on white experiences and WHITE PEOPLE. but thats all, thanks for listening to my ted talk!!

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eddiesghxst · 4 months ago

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CRUEL INTENTIONS - part three: eden

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: steddie x innocent/shy!reader

summary: you're a new student at All Saints Catholic Academy and Steve and Eddie have every intention to sink their teeth into you.

contains: enemies to lovers between steddie, blasphemy/religious talk, smoking and alcohol use, blood kink, chasing kink, masked man, depictions of a panic attack, depictions of a threesome, descriptions of heavy guilt, corruption kink, mentions of subtle bullying, mentions of shitty parenting, slut shaming, SMUT - 18+ , oral (m and f receiving), cum play, cheating (not on reader), NON-CON/DUB-CON, and stevie having gay panic <3

word count: 9.9k

WARNING: this fic contains dark themes including - NON-CON/ DUB-CON, manipulation, coercion, and corruption. Please fully read the content warnings before proceeding. Again, THIS IS A DARK FIC, do not read it if you're not comfortable with it!

I previous part | next part I

I series masterlist | -main masterlist- l

Steve has a very strict night routine.

Five days out of the week, Steve has rugby practice until 7. Most boys on the team simply take a quick shower and call it a night, but no, Steve has a step-by-step routine that he follows each night— not even Nancy could sway him from the path of his night routine.

Because you see, when Steve was younger, his parents were prissy and precise. Everything was done on time, and every hour had a task. If Steve were to ever stray from that schedule, he’d be made to feel like a failure. It’s ingrained in him, woven into his DNA, this life of doing things by order.

So it’s a little shocking (and concerning) that Steve immediately threw his nightly ritual out the window the second Eddie told him about tonight.

And it seems as if this will be a reoccurring theme with you— Steve altering his life just to get a glimpse of you. Because ever since you came along, it’s like Steve’s entire world has been flipped and lit on fire. He can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop wanting you. Has to hold your name on his tongue when he’s balls-deep in Nancy because, fuck, you’re the only thing he wants right now. He feels bad, but not enough to stop.

“You’re not fucking her yet, but she has to at least get used to you being around.”

Which is true, Steve supposed. Eddie is many things, but a liar is not one of them. If Steve hopes to ever swing his dick near the pot of gold between your legs, then he has to at least work a little bit for it. This way, he doesn’t have to worry about you running off and telling someone about it.

Trust. Though a distorted version from your point of view, it is still an essential part of this plan.

Steve doesn’t know much about said plan, which is kind of his fault. Because when Eddie approached Steve after a particularly rough day at practice, Steve kind of told Eddie to fuck off, so Eddie just left him with a quick, “If you ever plan on fucking her, then I suggest you haul your ass to my room tonight, asshole.” So, Steve had no choice but to follow through on that.

Because Steve will never get through to you without Eddie. Because Eddie is the catalyst. Eddie is the bridge that Steve needs to reach you— which is annoying because now when Eddie’s got his fist wrapped around his cock, and he’s thinking about you and how pretty you looked with his cum coating your lips, how good you taste, and how pretty you sounded— those familiar brown eyes slip into frame and suddenly Eddie is right there along with you— lingering. Like a phantom.

Steve can’t stand it.

But he needs you. He needs you almost more than he needs air. Because Steve usually gets whatever he wants in the blink of an eye, but you…

You’re forbidden fruit.

And sitting next to you, so close to you, with you squirming and avoiding the screen that displays some cheap porno— Steve thinks he might explode.

You turn to Eddie, shy and scared, digging your fingers into his shirt and tugging. “Eddie, I don’t—“ “Shh, bunny. We’re watching a movie. Didn’t I already tell you not to talk?”

You frown, big, wide eyes soft and wet with tears. You don’t like this; that much is obvious. And Eddie’s struggling to keep a grin off his face like a cocky bastard.

There are soft moans spilling from Eddie’s TV. Two guys, one girl, and oddly enough, the girl looks like you. Steve thinks Eddie did that on purpose, and he can admit it was clever, even if you might be slightly too dumb to notice.

They have the girl on a cheap leather couch, splayed out on her back, with one guy stuffing his face between her legs and the other guy thrusting his cock deep into her throat, wrapping a hand around the bulge in her neck.

You press your legs together, shifting in your spot again, and Steve catches Eddie’s eye. Eddie subtlety nods towards your lap, giving Steve the green light (not that he fucking needed one), and Steve scoots closer to you.

Steve places a firm hand high up on your thigh, fingers spread deep into the insides of your thighs as he lowly says, “Sit still, sweet girl.”

You frown, caught between two walls with nowhere to go. Nowhere to run— scared little thing, you are.

Steve smooths his hand over your thigh, gently squeezing and molding your skin to his touch, soft and firm yet not enough to bring you pain— Steve doesn’t think he could ever hurt such a sweet thing like you.

The porno is in full swing now, the two men fucking the lady like it’s the last thing they’ll do, and you have big, full tears running down your face as Steve pinches your skin to open you back up. He slinks his hand higher, the lip of your skirt kissing against his wrist, making way for him. His pinky dusts across the hem of your panties, wet as he had expected— all of you wants him, even when you act like it doesn’t.

You gasp and tremble between the boys; your eyes squeezed shut with tears rolling down your cheeks thick as rivers— you look like a small bunny cornered by prey. Precisely what you are.

Eddie coos, shifts so he’s facing you more comfortably. He gently holds your face and coaxes you into opening your eyes. “You like it when Stevie touches you, don’t you?” He says.

You open your mouth to respond, but Eddie quickly butts in, “Ah ah…” He raises a finger to his lips, reminding you that he doesn’t want a single word falling from your lips. And you listen so well— without a single protest— Eddie’s done well on you thus far, but Steve likes to believe you have an obedient nature either way.

Sentenced to silence, you shake your head no, and Eddie laughs. Soft and deep, brown eyes swimming with hunger and patience, “No?” He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. “You think I don’t know about you cumming on his tongue?”

You tense at that, body rigid beneath their touch as you turn to gaze at Steve with wide eyes, eyes swimming in guilt and the realization that Steve had lied to you. Your frown deepens then, more tears coming and Steve is now the one cooing. “Of course, I told Eddie, bunny. You knew that, though, didn’t you?” He teases.

You let out a muffled sob, squeezing your eyes shut again as tears fall. “You knew Eddie didn’t say you could open your legs for me, and I would have to tell him about your behavior.” He chastises. “So gullible, gonna get yourself in trouble being so stupid, sweet girl.” He gently coos. Your chest stutters with uneven breaths, and Steve’s cock throbs in his sweats.

With you being so unstable, Steve is able to slip his fingers past your panties without a fight. He slips his fingers through your wet folds, warm and sticky, leaning forward to press a kiss under your jaw as you twitch and squirm beneath his touch.

“Look at you,” Eddie prowls, “Shaking for his touch. Again. Did I ever say he could touch you?”

You huff, eyebrows pinched in frustration as you shake your head. “Then why do you want it?” Eddie asks. Steve sinks a finger into your warm cunt, wetness spilling around his knuckles as your thighs tremble. “I—” Eddie clicks his tongue, reminding you of his rule of no talking.

Steve crooks his finger up, searching for that gummy spot of yours, leaning forward to press a kiss to your neck as you struggle against him. “God, if I knew you were such a slut I wouldn’t have wasted this much time on you,” Eddie says.

You break your rules then, voice pleading and sad as you claw at Eddie’s shirt, “I’m not! I’m not, I swear. I didn’t know!” You sob. Steve watches in awe at the way you crumble for Eddie. You’re so desperate to please him, to be kept under his arm of security, unbeknownst to you that he’s the one you should be running from.

Steve is jealous… but he wants to learn.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Eddie widens his eyes. You shake your head, hips twitching when Steve begins dragging lazy circles over your clit. “H-he told me you said it was okay.” You frown. “Who did? Stevie?” Eddie asks. You nod, and Eddie’s gaze flickers to Steve, a ghost of a grin dancing in his eyes.

“I don’t remember saying that, sweetheart.” Steve lies.

“Stevie never said that. So, either you’re lying, or Steve is lying. Are you calling Steve a liar, bunny?”

You look frazzled, seconds away from bursting into an uncontrollable fit of tears as Steve continues playing with you. And the truth is Steve is a liar. He lied to you when he said Eddie gave him the green light to get between your thighs. But you know better than to ever point fingers— again, a product of Eddie’s skilled teachings.

You shake your head no with a frown, and Eddie hums. “Well, did you like it? When Steve licked your slutty little cunt?” Eddie asks.

You’re visibly panicked, wide eyes darting to Steve, knowing he will tell the truth if you lie. There is no way out but through for you, and you know it. You shamefully nod, and Eddie hums again. He pets a gentle hand over your hair, letting you nuzzle into him when you begin to tremble with pleasure. “Would you like him to do it again, bunny?”

And if you’re smart enough, you’ll understand that even if you say no, Eddie will somehow coax you into splitting your thighs open for Steve again. You contemplate longer than Steve would appreciate, but the second he pulls his fingers from you and dips them into his mouth, your eyes flash with this little look that Steve has never seen from you.

Lust.

Steve sucks the juices off his fingers lewdly and greedily, never pulling his gaze from you. You watch, wide-eyed with trembling limbs and a pouty lip, Steve wanting nothing more than to kiss them until they’re sore.

Apprehensive yet interested, you nod your head shyly, and if the two boys hadn’t been watching you like a hawk, they probably wouldn’t have even caught it.

Eddie slinks his fingers through your hair, knuckles gently curling at the root as he drags you closer, kissing you filthy and raw. You whine, thighs closing around Steve’s wrist when he finds his hand back on your warm skin. It’s low against your lips, but Steve hears Eddie tell you, “Come here.” And you follow like an eager puppy wanting to please their owner.

Steve can taste you on his tongue, an overwhelming feeling to taste more as he watches Eddie move you around like you’re a lifeless doll. He places you with your back to his chest, your thighs pressed against Eddie’s knees as he gently tips your head back to kiss you again. Steve stands, shrugging off his jacket and letting it drop off somewhere he could care less about because Eddie is splitting your legs apart, presenting you nice and pretty for Steve.

Eddie’s whispering things in your ear, things Steve can’t hear over the low sound of sex from the TV, but he sees you squirm and pout, and he can only imagine he’s saying something about how dirty you are. How cute you are, all slick and ready for someone to put their hands on your greedy cunt.

Eddie’s eyes flicker up to Steve’s as his hands trail down your sides, thick and decorated fingers pushing your skirt up and petting over your clothed cunt before hooking his fingers in the of the material and pulling it to the side.

Steve’s hunger grows like an angry beast. Purrs deep in his chest, and puffs out so big it nearly breaks his ribs. He wants to take you right here and now. Press your thighs out as far as they’ll go, lick into your mouth and shove his cock deep into your cunt. It’ll hurt, probably be a fight to fit every girthy inches of him in, but he’ll make it work. You’re a fighter, anyway. Strong, even if you don’t know it.

“Well, don’t make her wait, Stevie. Look at her, she’s dripping.” Eddie purrs, fingers sliding through your wet folds, parting his fingers into a ‘V’ to show off your throbbing heat.

Steve dips his knee onto the bed, leaning forward to rest on his stomach between your thighs. He takes you in, just as he did that day in the locker room, eyes casting over every piece of your pretty cunt and saving it to remember when he’s got his hand wrapped around his cock. Steve can smell you, drawing him in closer as you throb and a drop of slick slips from you. He groans, fingers gripping the back of your thighs, squeezing and molding you to his touch.

“You want my tongue, princess?” He purrs. You whimper, shying beneath his gaze when he looks up at you from between your thighs. Steve blows cool air against you just to see you throb and squirm. You huff, lips pouting as you turn your head to look back at Eddie. Steve reaches forward, fingers gripping your chin to pull your face back down to look at him, “Don’t look at him, look at me.”

He runs a thumb over your lip, wet spit catching the pad of his finger. “Is he the one about to eat your greedy pussy?” Steve teases. You whine, shaking your head no. “Answer my question.”

Your hips squirm, halting when Steve’s fingers dig into your skin. Your answer comes shaky and shy, “Yes, please.”

“Good girl. Using your words,” Steve dips his thumb into your mouth, dragging it over your tongue, letting you get it nice and wet before he pulls away, pressing it to your clit. Your legs tremble, panting when he runs circles around the tight bud. Steve purses his lips, spit drooling from his lips to drip down onto your pussy before he leans forward and places his mouth over your pussy, hungrily lapping and sucking.

“O-oh! Steve, I—” “Shh, shh. I want you to watch them.” Eddie speaks up, leaning forward to speak into your ear, directing your gaze to the TV. “Look at them. See how they’re using her? See how deep they’re fucking her, bunny?” He asks. You nod, Steve’s gaze fluttering as he devours you, fucking his tongue in and out of your warm hole.

“You want us to do that to you?” Eddie asks, voice low and husky. It makes Steve’s cock throb in his pants. He thinks he hates it, but his mind is fuzzy enough with lust to ignore it. Steve grunts, nuzzling his face deeper into you, and your eyes widen at the words Eddie is saying. “I—” you huff, “I don’t know— s’so bad. It’s not right.” You slur under a whine.

Eddie hums with a low chuckle, “Then how will you repay us for making you feel so good, hm?” His hands slip up your shirt, kneading at your chest and cracking a smile when you arch into his touch. Steve’s hips roll into the mattress, eyes rolling back into his skull at the pressure.

“C-can’t, Teddy—” “But you want to. You want to be fucked, don’t you?” He purrs. You tilt your hips into Steve’s mouth, your body begging for more as you shudder between the two boys. You whimper, and Steve’s eyes are fluttering open, locking onto the view in front of him, your pussy fluttering against his tongue. You frown, your fists balled against the sheets as Eddie holds your chin, directing your gaze onto the TV. “See how much she’s enjoying it?” Eddie purrs into your ear. “See how thankful she is to be getting fucked well?”

You grimace at his words, your body melting into their hold with each passing second— Steve can practically see your brain melting out of your ears. You make the prettiest noises, and you move like you don’t know if you want more or less, but Steve doesn’t give you a choice as he tugs you impossibly closer, taking you for all you are. Eddie kisses your neck, wet and sloppily, and you whine like you hate it, but Steve can feel you pulsing around his tongue.

“You should be thankful too, princess.” Eddie drawls into your ear, his hands still working beneath your shirt. Steve can’t help it when he reaches up and yanks at the buttoned half of your shirt, groaning into your cunt when you gasp and squirm. The sight of your tits spilling into Eddie’s palms drives Steve’s hips into the bed once more, desperate for some sort of pressure.

Steve pulls away with a gasp, sinking a finger into your cunt as he looks up at you, his swollen lips parted and wet with your slick. “Go ahead then, doll,” Steve nods at you, “Thank us.”

Your chest rattles with a sob, and Eddie grins as Steve coos, “Say it, princess. Thank us for taking care of your slutty holes.” He demands. You cry out then, legs trembling when Steve brushes against that perfect spot, teasing it to keep you away from that release that you crave.

“T-thank you,” you breathe, eyes squeezed shut, your body tensed as you wriggle between them. Eddie growls, gripping your face, gritting into your ear as he speaks, “For what? What are you thanking us for?”

You gasp as Eddie’s teeth drag along your jaw, your eyes fluttering open to hazily look at Steve between your thighs, moaning when he slips in another finger. Your voice is heavy in shame, but you’re too fucked to refuse it as you say, “T-thank you… for taking care of my s-slutty holes.”

Eddie smiles, “Good girl. Let her cum, Stevie, she’s been so good.”

Steve’s mouth is back on you in record time, lapping and sucking and pulling you closer and closer to the edge until you’re crying out a sob so loud that Eddie has to slap a hand over your mouth. Your hips rise off the bed, and Steve pins them back down, groaning into you as he keeps licking you, your thighs closing around his head. And Steve loves it; he loves the feeling of your cute little thigh-high socks scratching up against his ears and your warm, wet skin on his tongue. Steve thinks he could die here, really.

Eddie’s cooing in your ear, telling you how well you did, how much of a good girl you are, and his gaze snaps down to Steve’s when he pulls away from you with a gasp, wiping his mouth and liking his lips like a lion that’s just demolished its prey. Steve sort of feels like one, honestly.

Eddie grins up at Steve, his eyes falling to the evident tent in Steve’s pants when he rises to his feet. You’re barely cohesive when Eddie lightly slaps your cheek a few times, “Wake up, bunny, we’re not done with your holes yet.”

Your eyes are blurred with pleasure when you blink them open, and Steve presses a palm to his crotch. You blearily blink at him, and he nods, “Come here.”

And like an obedient dog, you peel away from Eddie’s arms, your clothes disheveled and twisted as you crawl over to Steve. He reaches out, his hand slinking into your hair to drag you up until he can smash his lips onto yours, a hungry growl rumbling from his chest. Steve knows he should be more gentle with you, you’re such a fragile little thing, but the feeling of power that surges through him when he tightens his grip on your hair and leads you off the bed is damn near like a drug. He wants it in his veins all the time.

You stumble off the bed, your socked feet knocking against Steve’s— it’s so fucking cute, Steve nearly coos. “On your knees. Get on your knees.” He orders. And again, like you were programmed for this, you fall to your knees, your hazy eyes slowly blinking as Steve sits at the edge of the bed and tugs his pants down. You watch as he wraps a hand around himself, stroking a few times, his hand still stuck in your hair.

Steve’s voice is kinder than his touch when he asks, “You remember what to do, princess?” Nodding with you when you respond, “Good girl, go on. Show me how thankful you are for me.” He says, and you shuffle forward to take him in greedily and sloppy, Steve’s eyes nearly rolling.

You suck him just as you did the first time, though it’s a little bit better than before; Steve supposes you and Eddie have been practicing more than enough. Even though you’re tired from your orgasm and your actions are less calculated, Steve finds himself enjoying it as if you were a pro.

Steve’s groans and mumbles of praise get closer and more slurred, and he supposes it was easy to tell how close he was because Eddie, a presence he had tried (and failed miserably) to ignore, steps into view right behind you, looking down proudly at his perfect project.

Eddie’s gaze holds a devious glare when he locks eyes with Steve as he sinks to squat next to you. He coasts a hand up your back, his fingers firm but gentle when they grip the back of your neck, his gaze finally leaving Steve to watch as your mouth greedily takes Steve’s cock in and out. And Steve is so close, and his body is so hot that he almost misses what Eddie says to you when he leans in— but Steve hears it loud and clear, “Don’t swallow. I want you to keep his cum in your mouth and show me, do you understand?”

And god, you fucking whimper and nod as best as you can, and Steve is a goner. And Steve usually cums a lot, sure. Nancy hates it, says it’s an inconvenience, but god, you take it like it’s nothing but a gift. You sit there, tear-streaked face, droopy eyes, and an open shirt as Steve cums in heavy spurts, coating every inch of your mouth as he curses. It’s so much that some of it spills out the side of your mouth, and the little bit that dribbles from his cock when you pull away lands on your chin, and Steve can’t help but tap his sticky tip against it.

Steve watches, blissed out and panting, as Eddie turns your face towards him. “Let me see, open your mouth.” He says, grinning when your lips part to show the thick mess in your mouth. “Good bunny.” He lowly hums.

And then, in the blink of an eye, Eddie leans forward, drags his tongue along the spilled cum of your face to lap it up before pressing his lips onto yours. Steve hadn’t seen it coming. Not at all.

He didn’t expect that he would be watching Eddie Munson eat his cum off your face tonight. He can see his tongue dipping into your mouth, lewd noises emptying into the air as he pulls Steve’s cum from your mouth and into his own. Yeah, Steve really didn’t expect that. And he doesn’t expect to feel his cock twitch at the sight of it either.

It’s disgusting, is what it is. Disgusting and downright debauchery, but Steve can’t look away, not even when Eddie pulls away and turns to lick his lips while gazing at Steve, a shit-eating grin spreading across his lips.

Eddie brings his thumb to wipe at the drop of cum that had been on the corner of his mouth before sucking it into his mouth— and Steve nearly cums again, and his cock throbs, and Eddie’s gaze flutters to see the way Steve’s dumb dick has filled with blood yet again. A small smirk rises on Eddie’s lips, and Steve can feel the heat rising in his cheeks— which is surprising, honestly, considering most of his blood is flooding downstairs. Eddie’s gaze flickers back to Steve’s wide eyes, and he finally says— “Not bad, Harrington.”

Steve nearly passes out.

What the fuck?

“Halloween is of pagan origin— therefore, we, as children of god, do not participate in any form of celebration on this day.”

The week of Halloween has always brought an eerie feeling to you. Gorey movies and costumes of demons and distorted faces— it’s scary. Aside from the candy, you never understood why people loved the holiday so much. Your friends never understood your reasoning or why your parents would never in a million years agree to let you go trick or treating, but their judgment never bothered you enough to change your opinion.

The priest looks at the students, an unwavering expression of sincerity plastered on his face as he says, “Be wise with how you spend your time this weekend. There will be consequences for any of you who choose to participate in any activities pertaining to Halloween; am I understood?”

The room mumbles in agreement, as does yourself, and the priest nods before carrying on to close mass. Beside you, Nancy sits with her bible and journal in her lap; eyes cast forward on the priest. She’s been glancing over at Steve all night, watching him during prayer and nearly half of the service— you know this because you had been watching him right along with her, though your reasoning is not the same as hers.

Steve Harrington, star rugby player with his pretty brown eyes and honey-thick locks, was anything but kind when he pulled you aside before mass. He was greedy, possessive with his hold and grabby when he hiked your skirt up, pressed your face against the janitor's closet door, forced your thighs together, and rutted into them like a dog in heat. He had a rough practice, so he said.

He apologized for being rough, said he didn’t mean it when he squeezed just a little too hard around your throat, and you all but sniffled and nodded and told him it was okay even though you were scared and your thighs now sting with friction burn.

He had a tough day, and the least you could do was not make him feel bad about it. That being said, it doesn’t stop the stir of guilt that sat in your chest throughout mass.

It’s hard not to feel guilty when your roommate's boyfriend's spend is sitting between your thighs, warm and squishy and tucked safely against your folds. It’s sickening, and it nearly makes you dizzy with shame. But Steve said it was okay, that friends do this thing, and Nancy understands; she would just rather not discuss it.

You could barely focus during mass, too busy trying to grasp what you and Steve had just done and trying desperately not to show it on your face. Despite your efforts, you can’t help but feel as if Nancy can see straight through you, and that’s why she's been watching him all night.

As soon as you’re dismissed, you begin working up the nerve to ask her, the words rolling around in your mind as you rise from your seat, but the second you turn to Nancy, she’s turning to go after Steve and you’re being tugged back by a firm hand.

“Where are you running off to, bunny? Don’t we have plans?”

You gaze up at Eddie, glancing over to watch as Nancy slinks out of the pew, and you nod, “Yes, but I—” “Then let’s go. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Eddie all but drags you out of the chapel, tugging you along and slipping past the dark courtyard to get to the back of the dormitory. Nobody ever supervises the back of the dormitories. Eddie told you to always come through this route; that way, you can get into his room without a hassle.

The path is dark, nothing but the moon and Eddie’s firm hand to guide you, and you try to focus on anything else but the snap of twigs beneath your feet and the burn between your thighs. However, the only thing that comes up in your mind is Nancy.

“Um, Eddie,” you speak up.

“What’s up, bunny?”

“I think… I think I may have upset Nancy…” You frown.

Eddie slowly pauses, turning to look at you, lips pressed in a firm line as his eyebrows furrow. “Did you say something to her?” He asks.

He’s towering over you, the darkness swallowing you both, exaggerating his stance. You feel like you’re drowning beneath him, sinking into the mud beneath your feet as you hastily shake your head no.

Eddie is so hard to read in this dim lighting, though he’s never been all that easy to read anyway. You can still hear a slight tone of relief when he says, “Good.”

Eddie turns and pursues the path, leaving you with panic and a racing heart. You didn’t say anything to Nancy— you made sure of it after Steve specifically sat you down and said you could never bring it up. But then, why could she not look at you all through mass? Why does it seem… tense between her and Steve? Are you to blame? Did you do something that may have upset her?

How do you even ask without revealing the open truth?

The questions swirl in your head like a storm, grey and murky as they slink down your throat and spill into your chest, spreading and laying out with a weight that makes you feel as if the world has just crashed on you.

You don’t realize you’ve made it to Eddie’s room until a plastic bag is shoved in your hands. You gaze at it briefly, shiny material crinkling between your fingers as you blink and glance toward Eddie.

Eddie nods, “Put it on.”

You step over to Eddie’s bed, put the bag on the mattress, and open it up to pull out the items inside. It’s an outfit, three items to complete a set of what looks to be a bunny costume if the bunny ears are any indication. The only problem, though is the dress, the main piece of the outfit, is incredibly short.

“I can’t wear this.”

You hadn’t noticed, but Eddie was busy getting dressed on the other side of the room. You look over at him, taking in his all-black attire and heavily swallowing when he glances at your laid-out costume.

“Why not?” He asks.

You glance at the dress before looking back at him, gesturing down at it as if it’s obvious, “Because it’s revealing!” You exclaim.

Eddie rolls his eyes and resumes putting on the rest of his clothes, a long black robe-looking thing, “No, it’s not.” He responds.

Your eyes widen as you look at the short dress, “Eddie, I-I’m not sure this will even cover my entire backside.” You shake your head. And when you lift it and turn it around, you realize that it definitely won’t— at least not comfortably.

“You’ll be fine. Other girls will probably be wearing something worse.” He dismisses.

Your teeth gnaw into the soft tissue of your lip as you put the dress back on the bed, eyeing it with worry and dread. It’s… gross. Degrading and immodest in every sense of the word, yet Eddie, your friend, is asking you to wear it. You glance over at him, your world spinning again as you realize what this entire plan is: the costume and the urgency to leave all make sense.

You drag in a shaky breath, slinking your arms around your body as you take a step back, “I think,” you clear your throat before speaking louder to get your point across, “I think I’m gonna head to my room… Maybe study a bit and go to bed…” You softly say.

You step toward the door, not even glancing Eddie’s way because you know if you do, you’ll be stuck trying to please him. But Eddie moves quicker than you can, his hand pressing against the wooden door to stop you from opening it.

“The dress is fine, doll.”

Your gaze dances up his frame, miles of black leading to his dark brown eyes. You want to be strong, put your foot down, and tell him no, but your tongue is tied. As it always is when it comes to Eddie.

You softly say his name, and he tilts his head, an ice-cold glare stuck on your eyes, daring you to say something more. Gravity pulls on your lips and your eyes, water threatening to spill down your cheeks when Eddie lowly and steadily says, “Go put on the outfit.”

You want to cry.

You want to wail and kick and scream until Eddie has no choice but to let you run to your room and stay there until Monday morning. You don’t want to be here. You don’t want to wear this costume you’ve been forced into, and you don’t understand why Eddie, who is supposed to be your friend, is being anything but friendly tonight.

He doesn’t care that you didn’t want to wear the outfit. He doesn’t care that it’s revealing, that you feel uncomfortable, or that it’s hardly forty degrees outside and you’re shivering. He doesn’t care that you have to keep tugging the tiny dress down your thighs or that you’re practically stumbling over your feet with the heels he forced you to wear. And he doesn’t care to ask why your mascara is running when he looks over at you and wipes it away; he simply tells you that you look pretty, “Like a doll.”

You feel disoriented. Far from yourself and disgusted, and you can’t help the aching feeling in your chest when you think about how saddened your parents would be to see you like this. Half dressed in the middle of a Halloween party. They’d disown you, you’re sure of it.

Eddie’s hold is tight on you the whole night, whether on your hand, your waist, or his heavy hand resting on the back of your neck. He always has a hand on you. Oddly enough, Eddie’s touch seems to ground you despite how displaced you feel. It’s comforting to have something familiar while you struggle to grasp your morality.

What are you doing here? How did you get here? Do you like this? Do you enjoy Eddie’s company enough to brave through this?

You think you do.

The music is loud, and it’s packed with dancing bodies from wall to wall. You have to repeatedly tip the bunny ears on your head back into place from where they keep slipping, and you debate ripping it off every time. You can feel the bass of the music in your chest, the scent of liquor and smoke filling your lungs as neon lights dance across your eyes.

Eddie has softened through the night. You’re not sure what had him wound up before, but he is back to doting on you, occasionally turning to you and brushing the skin under your eyes as his gaze softens and he asks if you’re okay. And you’re not. You’re cold and uncomfortable, and you want to go home, but Eddie’s touch is kind, so you find yourself nodding each time. And then he smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, cool lips brushing against your skin, and returns to whatever he’s been doing all night. Stepping off into corners and sliding these bags to people in exchange for something you can’t quite see in the dim lighting of the house, but when you asked him, he told you not to worry about it.

There’s a cup in your hands, a drink that Eddie gave you, which you have been slowly sipping for the better part of an hour. It’s sweet, almost too sweet, but there’s a bitter aftertaste that somehow balances it out enough for you to keep sipping on it.

Eventually, you find yourself squirming with the need to pee, turning to Eddie and leaning up to reach his ear and tell him. He squeezes your hip, “I’ll be here, doll.” And you had hoped that Eddie would tag along with you for your safety and comfort, but he only turns back to the secretive conversation he’d been having.

You find yourself wandering up the stairs, eyes dancing around searching for a restroom. It’s just your luck that the first door you open happens to be one, empty and surprisingly clean for the chaos unfolding throughout the party.

You try to be quick about it, eager to find your spot back next to Eddie, where you feel something along the lines of tolerable. You don’t miss the reflection of yourself in the mirror as you wash your hands, smudged mascara, taunting bunny ears, whorish clothing. You frown, tears pressing against your waterline as you gaze at yourself.

Wrong. Open, unrecognizable, and wrong.

Your shaky fingers grab at the bunny ears on your head, ripping them away and tossing them in the direction of the trash can, clattering to the floor in empty noise.

After having a moment to breathe by yourself, you think you’ll ask Eddie to leave now, the pending urge to leave only growing stronger by the second.

You flip the bathroom light off and open the door, stepping out without looking, only to slam into a body. Apologies roll off your tongue as you stumble back, nearly falling from your stupid heels. Through your tears, you look up at the person, dressed in black and tall, face covered with a mask of black, distorted eyes, and a wide black mouth.

You blink, stepping back as you mutter another apology, but they say nothing as they gaze down at you. Your heart races, fear seeping through you and staining like berries as you whip around and walk away— Eddie. Just get back to Eddie.

Unstable on stilts, you make your way back down the stairs and into the lion's den, crowded with drunk people dancing and talking, unmindful of where they go. And this house is big— too big. Big enough that when you glance around and realize you don’t know where you’re going, you start to feel even more panicked.

Every corner is different yet the same:: dark lighting, flashing lights, and the music is too loud. You don’t know anybody here, and you don’t know your way back to Eddie. A glance over your shoulder and the panic amps to the nines as you realize the masked man is just a few feet away from you.

Is he following you? Why is he following you?

Fear runs through you like a freight train. Your feet carry you faster, weaving through people as your weary gaze jumps from corner to corner. Masked figures, blood, and distorted faces meet you at every turn. You never liked Halloween; you think you hate it now.

Eddie is nowhere to be seen, and you’re scared. Every place you turn is empty of your relief, and every glance back is full of fear. And you don’t feel good. You feel sick. Detached from your hands and feet yet so stuck in the walls of your skin— where is Eddie?

Tears are streaming down your face, but you hardly feel them as you pace towards the sight of a door. You don’t look back anymore, too afraid to see the gaping face of a void staring back at you, waiting to eat you alive— the hungry wolf and the weak lamb— just as Eddie had said.

The clearing of the front door is near, and your legs hardly feel real. You should’ve never come here. You should’ve never put on this outfit. You should’ve never gone out on your own and lost Eddie. You are wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, and you’re scared.

And just as you come within a few feet of the door, a hand grabs your arm, and you jolt, pushing away until that familiar voice rings in your ear— “Hey, it’s me. It’s just me, where are you—”

You throw yourself into Eddie’s arms, tears falling in droves as you sob into his chest. Eddie’s embrace is like a nest— a warm, carefully crafted, and woven nest made to hold you and keep you safe. You should’ve never left his side.

His hand gently holds your head, soft coos seeping into your ear as he asks, “What’s wrong, bunny? What happened?”

You cry, body trembling in his hold as you try to piece your words together, “I-I couldn’t find you and somebody— that guy w-was following me,” you cry.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What guy?”

Your words come out in choked sobs, a shaky finger lifting past Eddie’s shoulder, “T-the guy in the mask!” You stress.

Eddie turns, looking in the direction of your finger, confusion and something else etched across his face when he turns to you, “…There’s a lot of masked people here, bunny; you’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that.” He says.

You cry, disoriented and confused because the man is nowhere in sight. Eddie guides you outside with a gentle hand on your back, softly cooing as you sob. The air is cold and sharp against your barely covered skin, but you hardly feel it.

You’d been spinning all night, around and around in a foggy cloud of discomfort, and the crash hurts more than the fall. But Eddie is here. He is here, and he’s holding you, and he’s wiping your tears, and asking you to breathe, “Tell me what happened, doll. Describe the guy.”

And through wracked sobs and shaky words, you describe what you saw: black cape, white mask, two big black eyes, and a gaping mouth. Hungry and ready to devour you.

“Woah, what the fuck happened?”

It’s Nancy; you know it’s Nancy despite your inability to see straight. She steps into frame, a gentle hand on your arm as she looks at your distraught face. Not far behind her stands Steve, a look of concern on his face.

“Some fuckin’ creep was following her,” Eddie mutters.

Your breaths come in shaky gasps, trembling hands coming up to wipe at your wet eyes. You try to speak, but your words hardly make sense, so Nancy softly coos and tells you to calm down.

Another flow of tears fall, and you only want to wrap yourself back in Eddie’s arms.

“And where were you?” Steve snaps.

Eddie looks at Steve, expression unreadable when he replies, “She went to the restroom.”

“And you didn’t go with her?” Steve prods.

Nancy consoles you, wiping your tears and telling you you’re okay as Steve and Eddie bicker over things you can hardly manage to wrap your head around. Finally, Nancy turns to them, “Would you two shut up? It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get her home; I think we’ve all had enough of tonight.” She snaps.

And even though you’re upset that Nancy has taken you from your source of comfort, you’re glad she leaves no room for debate. Nancy leads you down the steps of the house and you catch a glimpse of Eddie and think tomorrow you’ll have to apologize for ruining the night. For losing him and making a scene of your own mistake.

As you fall asleep later, you can’t help the few tears that slip down your face and drop onto your pillow as you all but hope Eddie can forgive you.

Steve’s had a rough weekend.

What started with a small disagreement with Nancy over his schedule with rugby has spiraled into Nancy completely ignoring him. On top of that, Steve is furious with Eddie’s mistake of not protecting you, and Eddie doesn’t seem to care. And as if that’s not enough, rugby finals are just around the corner, and Steve’s team is falling short to fucking play like they mean it.

Steve woke up with a headache, a sign that today would be just as rough as the night before, where Steve spent the better part of an hour with his father nagging him over the phone. Steve’s not sure what his father wants from him: a college degree or someone to run his company— either way, he won’t get both.

So, with a pounding head and a deep sigh, Steve got out of bed and began his game day rituals.

Morning run, shower, finish assignments, roll out that stubborn muscle in his thigh, and head down to the field.

Practice runs short, as it always does on game day. Steve doesn’t want to waste any energy his players can use on the field, so he lets them off the hook earlier with a warning to not do anything stupid.

And usually, by the time the game is about to start, Steve is pumped and ready to win; he talks up a big game to his players and riles them up. But today, Steve is merely a silent brewing storm. He’s tense. There’s a chip on his shoulder, and he can’t fucking reach it, and he doesn’t even know where to begin to figure it out.

Because the truth is, Steve loves Nancy. And he wants you. And he wants to be the perfect son. And he wants to win every game. He wants, he wants, he wants. But how much of it can he actually get?

Midway through the game, Steve’s team is down by enough to put him in a bad mood. His storm is pushing and pulling, churning in dark clouds on the sidelines as he watches his team play like shit. Steve isn’t even here, he thinks. He’s somewhere else. Somewhere between space and the busy thoughts in his head.

And as if the other team making another score isn’t enough, Steve suddenly hears your name tumbling from the lips of another teammate— “Did you see her on Friday? I had a feeling that innocent shit was all an act— she probably fucks like she gets paid for it.”

And Steve bites so hard into his tongue that he tastes metal. Warm and bitter, inking across his tongue like spilled milk.

He shouldn’t say anything. He shouldn’t. Not when Nancy is already on his back, asking about his whereabouts and throwing fits over nothing— because the guys talk. They’ll open their mouths for any pair of walking tits, and Steve can’t afford that. Not now. He doesn’t need it.

But then— “Wait— Harrington, isn’t your girlfriend roommates with her?”

Steve glances at the two boys, snickering like thieves, enjoying the taste of berating you on their tongues. Steve can hardly hold back the snarl on his face when he looks at them and replies, “No.” Stiff and quick.

Noel, the boy who’d made the comment about you, is now sitting right next to Steve and looking at him in confusion, “But they’re friends, right? I see them together all the time.” He points out.

Steve can’t deny that because it’s true. You and Nancy hang out on campus often, so he curtly nods, “Yeah. They’re friends.”

Noel hums, spreading his thighs to take up space as he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He looks at Steve and tilts his head as if he’s thinking, which Steve is sure he can’t even do, “So, can you confirm or deny that she’s more of a slut than she lets on.”

Steve looks at Noel, imagining his hands wrapped around his neck as his face twists in distaste, “She’s not a slut.”

Noel scoffs around a laugh, “Sure as hell dressed like one the other night.” he snickers, nudging his other snickering friend, Barry. They laugh as if it’s funny, making a snide comment about how your ass looked in your dress. Steve’s tongue is nearly bitten off.

“That doesn’t make her a slut.” Steve snaps.

Noel and Barry glance at each other, and laugh in disbelief, “Relax, Harrington. No one’s gonna tell Nancy you cracked a joke about how hot her roommate is.” Barry teases.

Steve doesn’t say anything; just rolls his eyes and glares back at the game. But Noel is nothing if not a fucking test of patience. Steve never liked Noel, and honestly, if he weren’t a good stand-off player, Steve would’ve written him off long ago.

“Think you could put in a word for me, man?”

Steve doesn’t bother looking at Noel as he snaps, “No, dude. Fuck off.”

Noel nudges Steve as if pushing him closer to the line Steve has been dancing on all weekend, “Come on dude, quit being so uptight, it’s just pussy.”

Just pussy.

Steve doesn’t know what snaps in him, but the second he hears it— just pussy— he hardly thinks twice before standing and curling his fists into Noel's jersey to throw him down off the bench.

“What the fuck—“

Steve steps over him, reaches down to grip the front of his jersey, and pulls him up, anger pumping through him in droves as he glares down at the boy and snaps, “Say one more thing about her.”

Barry, Noel’s knight in shining armor, steps in and grips Steve’s shoulder, pulling him off his friend and shoving at his chest. He sizes Steve up, face twisted in annoyance as he seethes, “Dude— calm the fuck down.”

Steve shoves the boy off of him, “Fuck you.” He snaps. Steve steps up to him, “You wanna know a real slut, Barry? Ask your sister, I fucked her.” He spits.

The words slip out easily like water, inky black with leeches to stick to skin and drain his veins— and it fucking works because not a second passes before a fist drives into Steve’s face, blood pooling in his mouth like an open dam. It rings loudly and echoing, with radio static in his ears. Steve can hardly hear his coach yelling, marching over to grab Steve off of Barry.

Steve doesn’t feel the pain in his hand, but he will once the adrenaline wears off, his knuckles tapped from the hard bone of Barry’s cheek. He doesn’t even remember punching him.

The coach shoves Steve in the opposite direction of Barry, frustration in every vowel of his words as he spits out, “You’re out, Harrington!”

Steve doesn’t fucking care. He doesn’t care to be thrown out of the game, hell they were gonna lose anyway. He doesn’t care that he’s the captain and should be setting an example— Steve doesn’t care. He’s pissed off, and he can hardly think straight as he storms off the field.

Steve’s storm is windy and brutal, the anger so hot in his throat that he can barely swallow. Steve will regret what he did later; he knows he will, but how could he sit there and let them talk about you like that and not do something?

You, who is so kind and caring to assholes that don’t deserve a second of your attention. You, who has never made yourself a problem yet has been picked on since you’ve come to All Saints. You, who hardly knows right from wrong— because Steve is so, so, so wrong, and still you look at him with these soft, doe eyes that make Steve want to scream and cry simultaneously. You, who Steve thinks about as he falls asleep next to his girlfriend.

How could anybody speak lowly of you?

You’re worth every bit of regret Steve will face, he thinks. No matter how clouded his judgment is.

There’s blood in his mouth, and dull aching in his jaw that will soon become a throbbing pain, and one would think Steve has had enough fights for the night, but that switch is suddenly flipped yet again when a voice comes from a few feet away— “Rough night, Harrington?”

The locker room is just steps away, and the noise of the losing game is now distant. Across the carpool lane stands Eddie, a cigarette burning between his fingers as the city light dances across his figure. He looks so stupid, standing there like a shadow, taunting Steve as if this is some sort of joke to him.

Steve gazes at Eddie, watching as he brings the cigarette up to his lips, talking around a cloud of smoke when he adds, “You look like shit.”

Shaky breaths, radio static, warm metal. City light, cigarette smoke, stupid fucking shadow.

Steve’s jaw aches when he clenches his teeth before speaking, “Are you following me?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “Do you want me to follow you?”

Annoying. So fucking annoying, that’s all Eddie has ever been. An annoying asshole with something smart to always say.

“Why would I want you to follow me?”

Eddie shrugs, a hand in his pocket, “Some people like that shit.” He says.

Steve stalks over, unbridled anger in each step as he draws closer to Eddie. He sneers as he glares at Eddie, “The fuck is your problem?” He snaps.

Eddie blinks, brown eyes gazing at Steve as he responds, “I don’t have a problem.”

“Then quit being so fucking weird.” Steve spats, face twisted in disgust.

Eddie raises an uninterested eyebrow, “Wasn’t aware I was.” He coolly replies.

Steve’s fingers curl into his palm, an angry fist against his side as he glares at the boy before him. Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s fist, lips ticking up in a small smile as his gaze flickers back to Steve’s.

Steve’s face grows hot in anger. He leans in, venom on his tongue when he spats at Eddie, “Fuck you.”

Eddie, like the asshole he is, gets a glint in his eye as he quickly whips back, “Thank you.” As if nothing ever bothers him. Steve sometimes wonders if Eddie knows how to bleed. Does he know how to respond to a punch? A kick? A bite? Steve’s not so sure that he does.

Steve decides spending another second on Eddie would be a waste, so he turns on and walks away. He’s still hot with anger, still tasting blood in his mouth, still thinking about those assholes on the turf, still thinking about the asshole a few feet away from that knows how he tastes.

“And just so you know,” Steve whips around, storming up to Eddie again. Eddie’s gaze flickers back to Steve, tilting his head in interest. Steve feels a feeling he’s never felt before brewing in his chest— a deep anger that he’s never tasted and comes up sharp on his tongue.

“I’m not fucking gay.” Steve spits.

Eddie blinks and nods once, “Okay.”

Steve looks at Eddie, the other boys sharp features glowing under the lamplight as he says, “So don’t do that shit again.”

Eddie looks at Steve, stoic expression plastered across his face before he tilts his head, “Not sure I know what you’re talking about.” He says, voice low and gravely.

Steve’s blood boils. His fists clench by his sides, and he ticks his jaw, pain rising from the punch he’d taken not too long ago, “Fuck you,” he says, “You know what I’m talking about.”

Eddie’s eyes have an annoying glint when he responds, “Seemed like you enjoyed it, Harrington.” He says beneath a subtle smirk. Steve steps forward, fists curling into the leather of Eddie’s jacket as he leans in and seethes, “You’re fucking disgusting. Try pulling that shit again, and I won’t hesitate to fucking kill you.”

Eddie smirks, brown eyes dancing over Steve’s face, a halo of warm light around his curly hair. Eddie’s voice is like hot honey, “That a threat or a promise, captain?”

“That’s a fucking promise.”

Brown pools of earth swirling like a whirlpool stare into Steve’s eyes. Smoke and cheap cologne, hairspray, leather. Steve’s anger is so loudly rushing through his veins he can hear it, flooding through his ears like a river.

Steve is in the eye of the storm. The wind is still, the air is crisp, and the light overhead flickers.

Steve doesn’t know how it happens. He doesn’t know who invades whose space, but the taste of his blood mixes with the taste of cigarette smoke, dull with mint and spit. Eddie’s lips are warm and rough because Eddie needs some fucking chapstick, but Steve doesn’t complain. He can’t. Not when Eddie’s dipping his tongue into his mouth and tasting his blood, humming like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

Steve’s knuckles are tight in Eddie’s jacket, short nails carving into the leather. Eddie’s tongue is like a curious snake, running over Steve’s tongue, dipping through the valleys and ridges of his teeth, licking over his palate. Eddie’s tongue slinks back into his own mouth, his lips curving against Steve’s lips as his cold fingers brush against Steve’s hips— and suddenly, the winds are picking up, and Steve shoves at the curly-haired boy, stepping away with a heaving chest as he glares at the boy.

Eddie’s lips are tainted a faint red, brown eyes bright yet gloomy as they gaze at Steve. Steve grimaces as he wipes his mouth, spitting out blood onto the concrete as if Eddie’s spit is the worst thing he’s ever tasted.

Eddie smiles, looks at Steve like he can see right through him, and Steve fucking hates it. Steve turns, body thrumming in some sort of sick and twisted adrenaline, eyes cast ahead of him as he marches toward the door of the locker room.

“By the way, Steve,” Eddie calls out behind him, “It was me.”

Fuck him. Fuck him and fuck everything that he says and does— Steve hates that every word Eddie says leaves him questioning, hanging, wanting more. Steve turns and glares at Eddie, vitriol in his voice as he spits out, “The fuck are you talking about?”

Eddie’s lips tip in a smile, boot-clad feet clicking against the cement as he stalks over to Steve, “The guy following her. It was me.” He shrugs.

Steve looks at Eddie, dancing over his face, looking for a crack in his expression— he finds none. Steve feels… he feels stupid. Stupid for being blind to the little game Eddie is so easily playing, puppeteering you and him with an expertise that makes Steve wonder— how many times has he done this? How many people?

Steve spent the whole weekend churning in anger, only to be told it was Eddie the entire time. He feels naive and dumb.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eddie snickers with a shrug, stopping in front of Steve, “Made it more entertaining.”

Steve swears he feels Eddie’s lips on his, and if it weren’t for the sight of them splitting into a shit-eating grin, he’d believe they were still pressed against that lamppost, swapping spit and blood.

“Fuck you.” Steve spits.

Eddie’s smile smears in Steve’s vision as he turns his back to him and walks toward the building, heart racing in his chest and bile churning in his stomach.

Eddie’s voice rings in his ears as Steve opens the locker room door, “Goodnight, Harrington.”

Steve hardly sleeps that night.

part four.

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@ratsematary @qtheressurections

a/n: HI HI HIIII !!! first of all, i am so incredibly sorry for how delayed this chapter was, i truly hope you guys even remember this story *cries*, either way, thank you for being so patient <33 this chappy was all about stevie battling his demons (bisexuality) soooo, not much established, but we're getting to the action very soon I promise!!

if you made it this far, thank u so much for reading, any and all feedback is appreciated and loved <3 I hope you all have a wonderful 2025 and stay safe; and as always, thank u and i love you always!!

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