#steve my sweet suicidal baby

[lnsfawwi]

"he is willing to die for everyone": life and death for stevebucky

I wrote this because I saw a post that said something like "'A's willing to die for B'. A is willing to die for everyone, what's the big deal about the ship." it's not about stucky or any ship, but this has always been on my mind.

throughout the trilogy, they have quite different attitudes towards life.

steve to some extent has always been ready to die, partly because he has had brushes with death multiple times since he was a kid. as rebellious as steve, he probably feels like being afraid of death is a sign of weakness, so he stands up to it and dares death to finally take him. that sentiment evolved to full blown passive suicidal tendency after bucky's death. another reason is that since he became cap, he understands that he's meant for something larger than life and certainly larger than himself, he's accepted that he'd one day die for the greater good.

bucky is the opposite, he clearly wants to live. in the cut scene in catfa he ordered the unit to surrender bc they'd have a better chance of surviving that way than going up against hydra alien weapon. after caws, he was trying to find a reason to live when many people in the same situation would've just ended it (and bucky thought about it too).

which brings me to my point. for someone who's so ready to sacrifice himself, bucky is steve's reason to live, while the love for steve always trumps bucky's will to live.

like I pointed out in a previous post, even when he had no idea what he was capable of, steve jumped through fire for bucky. whereas when it was peggy who pleaded, begging him to find a way to survive the plane crush, he didn't even try.

in the same scene, bucky, who just survived weeks of torture and had a clear way out of there, refused to leave without steve, knowing full well that they could both end up dying.

sebastian made it clear that bucky only stayed because of steve. in a way, bucky knew that if he died it'd be for steve, not for the country or the greater good, just steve. and that's the only acceptable way to die in a war that he'd grown sick of.

yes, steve was willing to die at bucky's hands in that helicarrier, but alternatively, he was also leaving the choice to live completely up to bucky. the scene can be interpreted as steve telling bucky "if you remember me, save me. save us." there was only one way steve would survive, there was only one reason steve would be willing to live and that was bucky. remember that steve was so ready to die with bucky when he told maria to "fire now". bucky was the only reason he even tried to survive this.

in civil war, bucky had been trying so hard not to kill himself and build a normal life. he must've wanted to go back to steve at some point and rebuild their relationship together. but as soon as he realized not everyone was going to get out of siberia alive, he told tony "I remember all of them" so tony would go after him instead of steve. he was trading his life for steve's.

one thing about superhero ships is that, yes, they are totally willing to die for anyone. steve would totally be willing to die saving a single person from a collapsing building, but bucky is his reason to find a way to not die saving that person.

bucky is as much as hero as steve, he continued to fight when he could've just butted out and no one would've said a thing. for bucky, he wants to go home after the fights, but as long as steve is still out there risking his stupid ass, bucky will make peace with death and follow steve anywhere.

[stevie-petey]

episode nine: the piggyback

“It’s always been you,” Steve whispers, lips pressed above your brow. “The six kids. The family I’ve always wanted. Traveling the countryside. My dream, it’s always had you in it.” You laugh, breathless and in love. “I know, honey.” Sickly sweet warmth cascades through you. Your lips find Steve’s, you kiss the smile off his face. He lets you. “I’ve always known it was going to be the two of us.”

Summary: operation save hawkins is a go. youre eagle one, steve is currently doing that, eddie is youd be lying if you said you havent thought about it, nancy is it happened once in a dream, robin is if you had to pick a girl, and dustin is eagle two. what could possibly go wrong ? spoiler alert: everything. literally everything goes wrong. might as well break a few promises while youre at it. for the plot. but at least its over, right? .... right?

Rating: general, some swearing, violence

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, weapons, blood, death and gore, injuries, lowkey suicidal thoughts

Words: 8.5k (we broke tradition where the last chapter is the longest but tbh this is probs for the best)

Before you swing in: oh my god this is the end. i am. very very emotional rn. this story is my baby and i dont know what im going to do now that its done. i cant even write an in between chapter because we still dont have season 5 content :((( im gonna miss writing this story, and i will absolutely go crazy waiting for season 5 so i can write again. these next few months will be ROUGH but !!!! thank you guys so so so much for reading. all your comments/reblogs/kudos/likes have meant the world to me. im truly the luckiest girl ever :') for now, and for the final time... enjoy !

–

It’s pitch black outside. All around you is darkness. The sun is long gone, its golden warmth no longer present, retreating into the treeline as if afraid of what the night will bring. 

You’re afraid, too.

Everyone stands around Nancy. The group is quiet as you await whatever she has to say. When she turns to face you, her voice is leveled, calm, but her hands shake. 

She’s afraid, too.

“Okay,” Nancy exhales deeply. “I wanna run through it one more time.” She looks at Robin, prompting her to recite everything back. “Phase one?”

“We meet Erica at the playground.” Robin responds. “She’ll signal Max and Lucas when we’re ready.”

“Phase two.”

You step forward. “Max and I will bait Vecna. When he goes after one of us, he’ll go into his trance. If he chooses Max, we’ll go onto phase three together.”

“And…” Nancy swallows, looking away. “And if he chooses you?”

It’s Steve who steps forward this time. He stands tall, brave, but his voice shakes. “Then I’ll stay with her, walkman ready, while you and Robin go on your own.”

You grab his hand, squeezing it. He squeezes back. 

“Speaking of phase three.” Dustin clears his throat, weary eyes never leaving you. “Me and Eddie wil draw the bats away.”

“Carefully,” you look pointedly at your brother. “Right?”

He rolls his eyes at you while Nancy continues speaking. “Okay, phase four.”

“We head into Vecna’s newly bat-free lair and…” Robin holds up a molotov cocktail. The liquid sloshes around. The scent of gasoline still stings your nose from when you helped her pour it into the bottles earlier. “Flambe.” 

“Nobody moves onto the next phase until we’ve all copied. Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what.” Nancy reiterates, looking around the RV. Her eyes linger on you, cautious, almost doubtful. She trusts you. She knows she trusts you. But she also knows your heart and the lengths you’ll go to save others. 

Nancy has always admired your selflessness, but she’s also always seen it as your greatest strength and weakness. A coin, two sides. Now, tonight, she has to hope that you’ll follow the plan. Even if it means leaving Max behind if she’s the one Vecna chooses.

Your eyes harden when you realize what Nancy is thinking. Without saying anything, you nod at her. The jut of your chin tells her that you’ll be fine. That she needs to trust you. 

Eddie’s trailer is only a few yards away, but the walk to it feels like decades. Steve guides and Nancy is close behind him. You stay back, walking beside Dustin. Your shoulders brush. His presence grounds you, reassures you that you will make it through the night. 

Dustin, sensing your fear, reaches for your hand. He extends his warmth to you, silently promising you that he will always be here. There isn’t anything left to say.

Steve opens Eddie’s door, turning the lights on and tossing his backpack to the ground. He eyes the rope that connects the trailer to the Upside Down, getting ready for the part of the plan that you honestly really hate.

“Be careful, please.” You urge him, uncomfortable that he has to be the first one to return to the hell that is the Upside Down. It makes sense, he’s the only one able to climb the rope up, but still. You’ve had shit luck these last few days.

“I’m always careful, angel.” Steve winks at you, rolling his sleeves up. “Here goes nothing.”

He climbs up quickly, years of being an athlete being put to use. Everyone watches anxiously. However, when Steve crosses through the gate and lands with a cheesy flip, you and Robin share a disgusted look. 

“What, does he want us to applaud?” She scoffs.

You shake your head. “Somethings I think he has an imaginary audience in his head.”

“Do you think they ever boo him?” “Not like we do.”

Nancy covers her mouth, muffling her laugh, and Robin snorts. You smile at the two of them, momentarily forgetting what’s to come.

“Alright,” Steve shouts up, tossing down Eddie’s old mattress. “Let’s go.”

You take a deep breath, steadying your nerves. Wiping your hands on your jeans, you place them on the rope and prepare for the inevitable torture that this will be. You’re pretty sure you’re bleeding again. 

“A little help?” You ask the others, motioning towards your injured leg and shoulder. “Sorta out of commission.”

Eddie grips your waist while Robin and Nancy gently hike your legs up. Together the three of them are able to carry you almost all the way up. Breathing through your nose, you grit your teeth and climb the rest of the way, wincing every few seconds. The pain is unbearable.

You really hope you don’t sound as pathetic as you look.

When you land on the mattress, small, black dots litter your vision. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Steve is already bending down, helping you up with ease. “And ruin Munson’s tidy home?”

Woozy from pain, you bat Steve away and wait for the others to join. Nancy comes next, then Robin, then Eddie and Dustin. Weapons get tossed down. Bodies land on the mattress with finalizing thuds. 

Outside, it’s just as cold as you remember it. Eddie and Dustin stay in front of the trailer. This is as far as they’re going. They aren’t leaving.

Roughly you pull at your brother. His body lands against yours, but the kiss your press to his forehead is gentle. You haven’t done this since he was a kid. Dustin flings his arms around you, nearly knocking all the air from your lungs. He squeezes you tight, as terrified as you are, and you feel tears in your eyes.

“We’ll come home,” your whisper is hoarse, rough and desperate. You bury your face in his mess of curls and kiss his head again. “The house won’t be empty.”

Dustin sniffles, too weak to hide his tears. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Your throat burns. How can you possibly leave him? 

Vision blurry with tears, Eddie manages to catch your attention as you cling onto your brother. The teen nods, lifting his pinky in the air to wave it at you, reminding you of his promise to you. He’ll protect Dustin. He swore it.

Reluctantly, you pull away from Dustin and wipe your face. “Please don’t die. Who knows what Mews’ ghost would do to you?” Dustin laughs wetly, wiping his own face as well. The thought of your childhood cat haunting his grave is enough to lessen the sting of letting you go. 

“If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort.” Steve breaks the remorseful silence. He doesn’t want anyone getting hurt. He doesn’t want you losing anyone else. “Draw the attention of the bats, keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna. Don’t try to be a hero or anything.”

His tone is harsh, but you know Steve means well. You also don’t want Dustin and Eddie anywhere near danger. As long as they stick to the plan, they’ll be fine. They have the quickest escape route and the most amount of protection.

“What Steve is trying to say is that you two better climb back through the gate the moment anything bad happens.” You look at the two boys. They stare at you, grim faced. “I mean it, okay? Go through the gate, don’t try anything else.”

“We’re the decoys, we get it.” Dustin rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry. You and Steve can be the heroes.”

“Look at us,” Eddie nudges your brother’s shoulder. “We’re not heroes.”

Your stomach twists. You hate how Dustin views his and Eddie’s position. They aren’t just decoys, they’re heroes in your eyes. They’re facing an army of bats all on their own, but you don’t dare say this out loud, afraid to encourage them. 

“Just…” your mouth is dry. “Just be safe, alright?”

“We will.” Eddie swallows. Then he pauses, his gaze darkens slightly. Looking back at you, he breathes out, “And make him pay.”

You and Steve look at each other. So much of Eddie’s life has been ruined by Vecna. Even if you all make it out of here alive, killing Vecna, there’s no guarantee that Hawkins will accept him back into the town. You understand the anger that resides within Eddie. The desire to kill the very thing that has destroyed everything he loves. 

You bite your lip. You’ve never made a promise you haven’t been able to keep. But this time you’re facing something bigger than anything you could’ve ever imagined. All this time you’ve tried convincing yourself that you’ll win. That everything will work out.

But you remember last summer. 

The mall. The fire and the deaths. Hopper. Billy. The power Vecna seems to hold, his claws that have sunk into you and Max. His threat to Nancy. The danger that Hawkins is in, up above where your mother sleeps peacefully. Unaware of what you’re sacrificing for her.

This is more than anything you’ve ever dealt with before. But a promise built on an unsteady foundation is all you can give Eddie. 

“Well will,” you echo his earlier promise.

Eddie smiles at you. The one you’ve grown to like, even find charming. Slanted and mischievous. The glint in his eyes never dimmed, even after everything. Through it all, he remained kind.

This is how you’ll always remember him.

– 

The further you walk away from Eddie and Dustin, the harder you have to force yourself to keep going. Your body is heavy, the weight slowing you down, pleading with you to go back. None of this feels right.

Steve’s hand on the small of your back is the only thing keeping your heart from collapsing. Robin’s smile helps, too. 

“You’d think this place gets less creepy the second time around.” She says, stepping over a root. “But I’m still pretty damn creeped out.”

“It isn’t the most pleasant place.” You agree. 

Robin steps over another root, looking back at you as she does so. “At least I’m here to protect you, Y/N. Pretty brave, don’t you think?” “Hey,” Steve warns. “Watch it.”

You knock your shoulder against his and smile apologetically at Robin. “Like always, I think you’re the bravest.”

She smiles proudly, throwing her fist in the air in excitement. However, after stepping over a root for what feels like the tenth time, her heart starts to pound. Looking around, all the trees suddenly look the same. Have you been here before?

“Not to alarm anyone, but I swear we’ve seen this tree before.”

“That’s impossible.” Nancy dimisses.

You agree. “We’re in the woods. All we’re going to see are trees.”

Robin tries to calm herself down, but ultimately fails. There are so many components to the plan, so many ways it can go wrong. “I mean, that would suck, right? Veca destroys the world because we got lost in the woods.”

“We aren’t lost–” You try to reason with her, but Robin is already running away in a panic. You scream at her, terrified of losing her. “Robin!”

“I’ll be back!”

You start to stumble after her. “Why does everyone want to separate?” You huff out, nearly tripping. “There’s safety in numbers! Come back!”

Nancy, seeing your fear for your friend and horrible coordination skills, steps in front of you. “I’ll go after her. You stay here with Steve.”

And then she’s gone, disappearing into the mass of branches alongside Robin. 

“They’ll be fine,” Steve reassures you, grabbing your hand. “They’re tough, even if Robin may lose her mind sometimes when she’s distressed.”

“I think we’re all slowly losing our minds.” You laugh, bitter.

Steve tightens his hand around yours. The two of you walk in silence for a while. The thunder above you serves as a reminder of where you are. The darkness is a threat. But you’re here, together. That’s all that Steve cares about in the end.

“Did you really mean what you said? Back at the cemetery?” He asks, clearing his throat in unease. The question has been on his mind ever since he heard your pleas for Vecna to take you instead of Max. 

He thinks of how adamant you’ve been to protect her. How you’re only here with him right now because Max wouldn’t let you blindly walk towards your death. 

The question strikes deep guilt within you, yet an exhaustion follows. You’re ashamed of how desperately you pleaded to die. Steve and Dustin had to hear you beg for your death. Lucas, too. 

You’re ashamed. Yet you wouldn’t take it back.

“I did.” You finally say. “I wanted him to take me.”

Steve already knew you’d say this. He’d been expecting anger to follow, to be furious with you for sacrificing yourself knowing he’d be left to pick up the pieces. 

But seeing the way you set your jaw and stare ahead, seeing the resolve that masks your face, the acceptance of your decisions, Steve can’t bring himself to be angry. Not at you. 

This is who you are.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Steve promises you again. He will always promise this to you. Over and over again, he will die saying these words to you. “I-I can’t lose you. I refuse to lose you.”

Your eyes remain downcast. 

“I know that this is how you love,” he grabs your jacket, begging you to look at him. “I know that I can’t let you lose the ones you love. Dustin, Max, Robin, Lucas, or El or Mike or Nancy. Hell, even Jonathan. I won’t let you lose them, but I won’t lose you, either.”

He understands, then. The selflessness within you and its selfish ways. Yet he doesn’t shy away or hiss at its venom. Steve opens his hands and allows the selfishness to stay there, warming it with his skin. 

You kiss him. Surprising both him and you, yet you melt together. Steve circles his arms around your waist, pulls you flush against him, and in the cynicism that surrounds you, there is still love. 

“Thank you,” you breathe against his lips. He’s wonderful. He loves you wholly, without any faults. Your kindness and its destructive ways; he accepts it all. “Thank you for understanding.”

And this, you believe, is the most selfless act a person can do. Steve’s understanding of why you need to do this, to sacrifice your life for Max’s, even if it means he risks losing you. 

“I should be the one thanking you,” Steve kisses you again, softer this time. Slower. 

You pull back, confused. “Why?” He pulls you in again. “I mean, I don’t know if you know this, but I was a pretty huge asshole back then.” You laugh softly, and Steve knows he’s exactly where he’s meant to be. “You saw this good in me that I didn’t know existed. Right off the bat you saw through me, expecting more from me than anyone else ever did. I wouldn’t be who I am now without you. ”

“Steve…”

“And I’m sorry for thinking you didn’t see a future with me.” He continues, unable to stop now. This is everything he’s wanted to tell you ever since you allowed him into your life. “I know it’s stupid now, apologizing for our fight a week ago after the hell we’ve been through since then, but…”

He can’t believe he almost let something as small as a misalignment of where you’ll be a year from now jeopardize what you have. There is a string that attaches Steve to you, it brought you to him and tied your heart to his. 

“I meant what I said, Y/N.” Steve’s forehead presses against yours. “I’d wait forever if it means I can have forever with you.”

His eyes shine down at you, brown and warm. The honey you fell in love with when he pretended not to know your name, all to get you to laugh. 

“When your head went under the water, that night at Lover’s Lake, I thought you were dead.” Your voice shakes, remembering the fear that choked you. “For those thirty seconds, I thought you were dead, and it almost killed me.”

It was then that you realized how truly you can’t lose Steve. You’ve always known this, but to have his soul ripped from yours so suddenly, so permanently, there are no words to express the agony that poisoned you. 

Losing him would be the one thing you’d never recover from.  

“I don’t ever want to live through those thirty seconds again,” you’re crying. Steve is, too. He wipes a tear that falls, strokes your cheek, and you can’t bear the thought of a world without his touch. “I want forever with you, too. We’ll figure it out, but I’m not losing you. You have to be in my life, in whatever capacity. Whether you’re in a small, cramped apartment with me in New York or in Hawkins, waiting for me to come home.”

Your breath hitches. To think that a childish argument almost separated him from you. 

“As long as we come home to one another, it doesn’t matter.” 

Steve is quiet after you’ve said all this, and for a moment you’re scared you’ve said too much. Revealed too much of yourself, convinced him he’s gotten it all wrong, but then he cradles your face. His hands are soft, tender, the weight of them familiar against your skin. 

He kisses your forehead, and you exhale the last of your uncertainty. All that is left within your lungs is love. 

“It’s always been you,” Steve whispers, lips pressed above your brow. “The six kids. The family I’ve always wanted. Traveling the countryside. My dream, it’s always had you in it.”

You laugh, breathless and in love. “I know, honey.” Sickly sweet warmth cascades through you. Your lips find Steve’s, you kiss the smile off his face. He lets you. “I’ve always known it was going to be the two of us.”

Steve smiles, wide and bashful, and you know that this is where you’re meant to be, too.

“Hey, guys!” Robin breaks through the treeline, running back with Nancy right behind her. “Awesome news!”

“We aren’t lost.” Nancy cuts to the chase. “We think the Creel house is up ahead.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” You step out of Steve’s arms, though your hand remains intertwined with his. “Let’s go face imminent doom.”

Nancy huffs out a laugh and Robin winces, though Steve squeezes your hand and is the first one to start walking. Together, the five of you descend deeper into the woods.

Unsurprisingly, the Creel house is even more terrifying in the Upside Down. Bats surround it, their screeches stinging your ears. Lightning flashes a deep, blood red and the thunder that follows causes your heart to drop.

You stand at the crest of the hill. There’s a light below you, its glow pure in the abandoned park where it resides. The same park that you told Erica to hide in as she waited for Max and Lucas to take their place. The light flashes.

It’s time for phase two.

– 

“Max is moving into phase two: distracting Vecna. Y/N, get ready.” Erica’s voice carries into the Upside Down.

Nancy, Robin, and Steve all turn to you. Grief and longing taint their faces. Your walkman hangs from Steve’s hand. He grips it tightly. Tension coats the air, nearly suffocating you; you can’t run anymore. 

No one says anything as you carefully lower yourself to the ground. It’s cold beneath you. Hard, unforgiving. You cross your legs, ignoring the deep ache of your wounds as you do so. You close your eyes. The storm is coming. 

“Take the bait, you son of a bitch.” You hear Nancy whisper. 

You or Max.

Take me, you silently beg. Take. Me. 

Silence settles over the group. Everyone waits with bated breath. No one knows who Vecna will choose. 

Steve stands nervously behind you, his hand on your walkman at all times. 

Just take me. Kill me instead of her. If you’ve watched me for so long, then just get it over with. Don’t make this easy, don’t be such a fucking coward.

The words echo in your head. Taunting Vecna, hoping their malice will be what saves Max. That he’ll choose you in the end, give you what you want. You’ll do whatever, say whatever you need, if it means Max will come home. 

Something pricks your skin. An uncomfortable, electric sensation coats your entire body. 

Vecna. 

For a moment you think he’s listened. You can feel his presence, the weight of him shadows in your mind. He’s here, he’s spared you mercy after prolonged cruelty. He’s chosen you and Max will survive. Her blue eyes will remain bright, her body alive.

Then it all comes crashing down.

“He chose Max. I repeat, he chose Max.” Erica says, voice cutting through the delusions you allowed yourself to get lost in.

Your ears are ringing. Somewhere in your body there is still oxygen that has not escaped you, but you cannot find it. He chose her. 

Robin radios Dustin and Eddie, you think she’s instructing them to move onto phase three, but her words are jumbled in your mind and you can’t hear anything besides the screaming in your head. 

He chose her.

“Y/N,” someone roughly grabs your shoulder. “Y/N, look at me.”

Nancy. She’s in front of you, kneeled down. She grabs your arms, her grip vicious. Her mouth moves. She’s saying something, the way her chest heaves makes you think she’s yelling.

Is she yelling at you?

“Y/N!” The ringing doesn’t subside, but you manage to look at Nancy. “We need to go!”

She’s right. You need to leave. There isn’t time to remember how to breathe. You know this. Somewhere in the distance there’s music. Guitar rifts through the wind, Eddie’s melody enrages the bats that swarm the Creel house. They’re gone in seconds, flying towards the sound, and you need to stick to the plan. 

Your head moves shakily, managing a small nod, and Nancy yanks you up with Steve’s help. She looks at Robin, and suddenly her and Steve grab your arms and force you to walk alongside Nancy. They aren’t aggressive as they do so, nor are they cruel. But you can’t afford to shut down. Not now.

Max won’t survive if you do. There’s no time to hesitate. No turning back.

You hope she finds the light.

Lightning flashes all around you, illuminating the Creel house as you stand before it. Steve opens the door first. The vines that cover the ground writhe at the disturbance. He shines his flashlight, his heart drops when he realizes just how infested the house is.

“Shit,” he breathes out. The floor is virtually impossible to walk across. “That’s not good.”

Then, because he has no other option, Steve starts jumping to any safe spot he can land on. He looks ridiculous as he does so, but for once you aren’t focused on that. Instead, you stare down at your injured leg and wince.

“Great,” your thigh is currently more blood than flesh. Jumping on it is quite literally the last thing you should be doing. “This is gonna hurt.”

“At least you have good balance?” Robin offers, though she doesn’t believe what she’s saying either. 

Nancy grabs your hand, then Robin’s. She looks at the two of you and smiles, trying her best to look reassuring. “It’s okay. You guys got this.”

The first jump hurts, setting the remaining nerves in your upper thigh on fire, but you can’t afford to scream or collapse. You have to remind yourself that the vines are interconnected. One wrong step, one miscalculated fall, and they’ll wrap viciously around you. 

It’s a slow, tedious process trying to get to the attic. The stairs are the hardest part. The vines twist with every step, slithering across the walls. Steve does his best to help you, offering you his hand for support, but you both hold your breath every time your foot slips. 

When you make it to the attic door, everyone readies their weapons. In one hand are your knives, in the other a molotov cocktail. Steve spins you around, digging into the backpack for an ax while Nancy grabs her gun. 

Your foot lifts, about to step forward, before the ground beneath you shakes violently. The entire house trembles, and Steve barely has enough time to catch everyone as all of you struggle not to fall. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You sneer, holding desperately onto Steve. This is all some sick, cruel joke. A poorly timed rupture in your rapture.

But then the house stills. Everything is quiet. You, Nancy, Steve, and Robin stare at one another, panting. Nobody moves. There’s a clarity in the air, a false sense of security. 

That’s when the first vine latches onto Robin. 

It folds around her ankle before tearing her away from you. She screams, so do you, and her body is thrown against the wall as more vines encase her limbs. They move fast, snake like, and everything unravels after that. 

“Steve! Y/N!” She screeches, terrified. “Nancy!” 

You’re at her side in a second, stabbing at the vines. Your knuckles are white as you grip your knives, your biceps strain. You aren’t letting them take Robin from you. “Hold on!”

Your teeth grit together in exertion, sawing as fast as you can. Steve and Nancy are on the other side, throwing their axes as hard furiously into the vines. But nothing works, they’re too thick, and you don’t realize that one of the vines has wrapped around your arm until it’s too late.

“Y/N!” Steve screams when your body gets lifted into the air. You try to fight it, to pry your arm away, but your legs give out and soon a second vine wraps around your other arm. Then a third, a fourth and a fifth. 

In seconds you’re pressed against the wall. 

“Steve!” Screams are ripped from your throat, you try to call out, to beg for your life, but the more you move, the tighter the vines constrict.

Steve calls after you, ramming into the wall as he tries to cut you loose. “I got you! I–”

The ax he’s holding gets yanked back by a vine. He’s launched into the air, body landing harshly next to yours several feet up the wall. He screams again, but his voice dies when a vine cuts off his breathing and chokes him.

Another vine coils around your throat and suddenly you can’t breathe. Your airway constricts. Sobbing, you try to reach out to Steve. You’re inches apart, his fingers are so close to yours that you can feel their warmth, but you can’t reach him

All you want to do is hold him. 

Nancy falls to the ground, the last victim. She gets thrown to the opposite wall, it all happens so fast that she doesn’t even have time to scream. 

Your vision blurs. You close your eyes.

This is how you’ll die. 

Far away from your home. No one will find your body down here. Dustin will come looking for you and he’ll face the same fate. He will die trying to find you. Vecna will destroy everything you’ve ever loved.

Your lungs burn, fighting for breath that they cannot get. Blood rushes to your head. You take your last breath. The sound of it echoes in your ears. 

Everything goes black. 

Your mother will be worried about you. 

I’m sorry.

– 

There’s a body beneath yours. 

It groans, gasping for air, but your vision is dark and you can’t see anything. Pain erupts in your wrist. You try to move it, but the sting makes you nauseous. 

There’s coughing all around you, but you’re too weak to suck the air back in. Everyone cowers for breath. The vines rescind, unwrapping themselves from your skin. There’s a body beneath you, and a gentle hand cups your cheek, you know it’s Steve.

“Breathe, angel.” His voice cracks, wounded. It hurts to speak, but he needs you to breathe. “Y/N, you have to breathe.”

Everything is numb. Your lungs are empty; you can’t remember how to fill them. Steve coaxes your lips open, blows air in your face, does whatever he can think of to get you to breathe, before finally, miraculously, you inhale sharply and begin coughing. 

“Are you alright?” Steve asks you softly, rubbing your back as you cough. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

Your throat is raw. It takes everything within you to speak, but you want to. You need to. There’s only one thing you want to say. “We have to make him pay.”

The anger is back, and Steve’s jaw sets. Vecna has hurt you. He’s hurt everyone you love. He’s chosen Max for his final death and your fury threatens to devour the sanity you have left. You’re tired of his shitty mind games.

It’s like what you promised Eddie: you have to make Vecna pay for what he’s done to you all.

“I don’t believe in a higher power,” Robin rasps, breaking you from your thoughts. “Or divine intervention. But that was a miracle.”

Nancy cocks her gun, already walking towards the attic door. “Then we better not waste it.”

“Phase four.” Steve says, steadying himself against you. 

“Flambe.” Robin finishes. 

You flick your knives out. “Let’s finish this.”

– 

Vecna’s body hangs in the attic, thick, gruesome vines attach him to every crevice. He’s unmoving, eyes closed, and seeing his body up close makes you want to gag. He’s a terrible, vile creature. 

But Dustin had been right: Vecna is in the same trance-like state that El goes into when she uses her powers. 

Without being told to, Robin sets down her bag. All the molotov cocktails are inside. Everyone grabs one, silent. Almost as if you’re all too afraid to break the spell he’s under. You only get one shot at this. 

Steve has the lighter. You hold the first cocktail up, and he looks at you, eyes shining. He asks you if you’re ready, if this is what you really want, and you nod. At your signal, Steve throws the cocktail into the air.

The bottle shatters against Vecna’s body. The flames engulf him, the impact of the blast so powerful that it knocks you and everyone else back. There’s an awful scream as Vecna’s vines begin to snap from the sudden heat.

Your screams mix with his, throwing another cocktail with every ounce of strength you have left in you. You’re bruised and bloodied and exhausted, but you think of Max. You think of Billy and Hopper. Eddie and how his life will never be the same again. You think of Chrissy, Patrick and Fred. All the innocent lives that have been lost for a cause that you despise. 

This is for them. For Hawkins. For your home.

The last of the vines die withering away, and Vecna’s body falls to the ground. He stands, body on fire, and stalks towards you. His eyes are only on you. 

Robin lights the final cocktail and the force of it sends Vecna stumbling back. It’s enough to break through his chest, and he’s weak. Weaker than you’ve ever seen him. 

“Shoot him, Nancy!” You cry, ready for this all to end. 

And she does.

The first blast pierces Vecna’s skin. The second, third, and fourth diminish him to ruined pieces. With every shot, Nancy steps forward, drawing him out, and you’re right behind her. Vecna releases a deep, furious roar. The sound of it sinks into your bones, but you no longer fear him. 

He isn’t worth your fear. 

Nancy raises her gun again. She deals the final blow, sending Vecna through the old, rotted wood of the house into the dark night. He falls, screaming, before everything is quiet. 

The roar of the fire that surrounds you is the only sound. You all stand in the attic, numb. None of it feels real. All that’s left of Vecna is a hole in the house, his body far below, sprawled on the concrete outside. 

“Did we…?” You’re afraid to jinx it, to somehow bring him back. But this has to be it. There isn’t any other way for this to end.

Nancy doesn’t say anything. Instead, she turns around, running back down the stairs. No one has to ask why she does this; you all know. There has to be a body. There must be tangible proof that you’ve won.

Everyone runs outside.

Vecna’s body is gone. 

The only indication that he’d been there is an outline of flames that molt the grass below it. But there is no body.

“No,” you run down the steps, kicking through the grass as you look around. You’re frantic, sprawling on the ground as if you’ll find him buried beneath the ash. “No, where is he?”

You killed him. He was on fire. Nancy put more than five bullets in him. He fell from the attic, a height that alone should’ve killed him. Where the fuck is he? You did everything right. Followed every step of the goddamn plan.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Something is wrong, you just don’t know what. Steve and the others join you. They’re quiet, fearing what you’re refusing to even consider. Four deaths. That had been all Vecna needed. But you killed him. “None of this makes sense, unless… Unless he–”

No. 

A bell chimes. 

The sound sends you to the ground. Your knees give out, collapsing under the weight of it all. “No!” Your scream is loud, guttural. Tearing from your chest as it tears out your vocal chords. There’s blood in your mouth and you want it to choke you. 

It’s Max. 

He got her. He killed her. 

All of a sudden there are arms around you. Someone carries you back up the stairs, back into the house that has taken everything from you. Steve holds you to his chest as he, Nancy, and Robin stare at the grandfather clock before them. 

It’s alive.

“Four chimes,” Nancy’s voice can barely be heard above your crying. “Max…”

The realization settles upon all of you. You’re in hysterics, no one can calm you down. You’re crying so hard that you can’t breathe, but you don’t want to breathe anymore. 

Grief pours from you in cruel, bitter waves. All you do is cry, barely even registering the earthquake that follows your devastating loss. 

Steve has to set down your crying figure in order to stabilize Robin and Nancy. You curl into yourself on the ground, making yourself as small as possible. There is too much. It’s all too much. Your head digs into the floor beneath you, cutting you, and your tears mix with the blood. 

Over and over again the clock chimes. Like laughter. His laughter. 

He won. 

Steve holds onto the stairs as the earthquake worsens. He has to crawl over to you; you’re rocking back and forth on the ground, your cries heard even above the cracking of the earth. His hand wraps around your weeping body and he won’t let you go. Steve tries to shield you from fallen debris, the world is falling apart, but you don’t move.

You don’t care anymore. 

It’s always your fault in the end. You lose everyone eventually; you get them killed. You can never save them. You will never be able to save them.

She’s gone. 

Max is gone. 

– 

The days pass. You’ll come to remember them in fragments. 

Returning to Eddie’s trailer and finding Dustin crying over his dead body. Prying him away, your tears mixing with your brother’s when you have to tell him that something has happened to Max.

Finding Hawkins in flames. Seeing the deep gashes in the town you grew up in. Stumbling to the Creel house, racing side by side with the ambulances for everyone within the once quiet town, and collapsing again when you find no one there. 

Going home. Your mother’s arms breaking you. 

Steve. How he never left your side throughout it all. Holding Dustin’s hand, unable to stop crying. 

Visiting Max in the hospital the day after. The stench of sterilizer and surgical tools. Seeing her lifeless body still alive. The countless other bodies in the building that died due to your failure. 

When the news broadcasters announce Hawkins to be cursed. The burden that you can’t tell them that they’re right. The guilt seeing your baby brother’s limp. Another scar he will carry with him forever. 

All the hurt in the town. The pain. 

The collapse of your home; they’re calling it an earthquake. 

It all comes to you in flashes. 

Hawkins high school gets converted into a donation center for everyone dishoused. Visiting it is your idea. You can’t bear the thought of spending any more time inside your home knowing there are hundreds of others who no longer have a place to call home. 

“Anything else?” You place your old comics into one of the boxes you’re donating. 

Dustin shakes his head. “That’s the last of it.”

He hasn’t left your side in days. He still keeps your walkman on him, though neither of you know if it’s important anymore. Dustin is afraid that you’ll never put the headphones on again, even if it could save your life. 

You tape the boxes up, carefully writing down their contents on one of the flaps. Your fingers are scabbed. Your wrist is stiff, locking up if you move it too suddenly. 

Books.

Bedding. 

Clothing.

Anything you can offer, you’d give it all to Hawkins if you could.

Steve picks you up. He helps you put the boxes in the back of his car, gentle with you as always. “You guys ready?”

You nod weakly, and Steve kisses your forehead, careful of the cuts that litter it. He helps you into the car. Turns on your favorite songs. Tries to distract you from the wreckage that encases Hawkins as he drives; you keep your head down. You can’t look at any of it. 

Nancy is waiting in her driveway with Robin, a pile of their own boxes at their feet. They greet you kindly, warmly, with an air of fear that you’ll break, and you’re too tired to pretend. 

“I found some more of your old stuff in the attic,” Mrs. Wheeler walks out of the garage, smiling despite the circumstances. “I think it’s lovely you’re doing this, Y/N.”

“We all just want to help,” you politely respond, staying near Steve’s side. 

Nancy picks up one of the stuffed animals in the box and pouts, seeing her old favorite toy. You’re about to tease her, try to laugh, when a pizza delivery van speeds down the block. 

“Someone order a pizza?” Mrs. Wheeler asks.

“Not that I recall.” You mumble, confused as your eyes follow the car. Every business in Hawkins is shut down right now. It doesn’t make sense for there to be a pizza delivery.

It parks in front of the Wheeler’s, and when you see who steps out, you drop the box you’re holding and run towards them. 

Will and El throw themselves around you, hugging you tightly. Dustin joins, and holding them again, having them here with you, makes everything okay for a moment. Your kids are okay, they’re safe. 

“Are you okay?” El asks you, pulling away slightly. Her eyebrows knit in concern when she notices the cuts on your face and how red your eyes are. “Did he get you?”

Somehow you aren’t surprised that she knows about Vecna. 

“I’m okay, sweetie.” Her hair is buzzed. Already you miss the long strands she once had. You don’t know what she’s been through this last week, but you hope, more than anything, that she hasn’t lost her kindness. “I-I’m okay.”

Your voice catches at the end, and immediately El understands that something else happened.

“We were worried about you,” Will doesn’t let you go. “When El told us what was happening, Jonathan almost lost his mind.”

Jonathan.

Hearing his name makes you remember everything. Instinctively your eyes find him. They always do. Jonathan has Nancy in his arms, but when he senses your eyes on him, he looks up at you. He will always be able to find you. Your heart stops, looking into his once familiar brown eyes.

Jonathan rushes towards you, as he always does, and his arms around you feel like home. 

“Bug,” he breathes against your neck, holding onto you tighter than he ever has before.

You melt when the nickname drips from Jonathan’s lips. It’s been so long since someone has called you that. It’s been even longer since you’ve held Jonathan like this. 

“God, what happened to you?” His eyes roam your body, catching on your bandaged shoulder and thigh. The cuts on your cheek. You try to ease his concern, grabbing his hands, but Jonathan starts to ramble. “We-we tried to get back to Hawkins as soon as we could. The second El told me you were in danger I–”

He inhales shakily, presses his face deeper into your neck. “All I could do to stay sane was think of your voice. Of our last phone call.”

You bury your face into Jonathan’s messy hair. You’re crying, but for what, you don’t know. His scent is bittersweet. His arms are reminiscent of what was once. You’ve missed him, but nothing will ever be the same again.

“I need to see her.” El’s raised voice causes you to let go of Jonathan. She’s standing in front of Dustin, arms crossed, and you know he’s told her the truth. “Take me to Max.”

“What’s wrong with Max?” Mike slings an arm over your shoulders, putting all his body weight against you in greeting. “Miss me, Henderson?”

You move his arm down, forcing him into a hug. You want to remember these next few seconds. The remnants of his childhood before it comes crashing down on him. “I did, Wheeler.”

Mike hugs you back, but when he sees the distress on El’s face, he lets you go and walks towards her. “What? What’s going on?”

Dustin is the one who breaks the news. Shamefully, you know it should’ve been you, but you haven’t been able to say Max’s name in days. There’s too much guilt, remorse, resentment that it hadn’t been you. 

It’s a mess of tears and panic when Dustin tells them. Will covers his mouth, holding back tears, while El storms inside the pizza delivery van as Mike demands that Jonathan take him and everyone else to see Max. They don’t believe any of it. El told them that she saved Max. 

“Are you coming, Y/N?” Jonathan holds his keys up. Everyone else, including Nancy, are already inside. A boy your age, you think his name is Argyle, waves at you from the passenger seat. 

So much has changed. Unable to form the right words, you shake your head at Jonathan. Yet even after months apart, he understands your unspoken words. You can’t see Max again. Not yet. It’s too soon, too much for you to bear.

Seeing her limp body once was enough. 

“We’ll be back,” Jonathan hugs you one last time, pressing a kiss to your hairline as he lets you go. “I promise.”

Steve steps forward then, wrapping an arm around your waist as he stands next to you. The two teens lock eyes, Steve gives Jonathan a cool, steely look. He remembers what you’ve told him. He remembers Jonathan’s words to you before everything collapsed. 

Sensing his anger, you squeeze Steve’s arm. Not here, you beg him. Not now.

Exhaling slowly, Steve offers you his hand. You take it, allowing him to walk you back to his car as the others leave.

– 

The donation center is packed. There are so many people inside, sitting on makeshift cots and pinning missing posters of their loved ones to a bulletin board. Nurses tend to the injured. Mothers cradle their children. The sight makes you ache. All these people, displaced by what they believe to be an earthquake.

You set the boxes down at the main dropoff table, and though the kind employee praises you for how organized the boxes are, you can’t help feeling that you should be doing more. 

In the hundreds of injured and grieving people you’ve seen, you’ve only noticed a handful of workers. 

“Is there any way we can help?” You ask the woman, looking around with a frown.

“Truly anything.” Robin says. “We just… we want to help.”

The woman seems surprised, and you wonder how rare it is for kindness to still be in a town that has known nothing but turmoil these last few years. 

You and Steve get placed sorting clothing while Robin is assigned to the food station. Dustin passes out cups of water for everyone. It isn’t much, but the work is meaningful and it eases the tension in your chest. 

“So…” Steve folds a t-shirt. “Can I ask about Jonathan yet?”

Picking up tattered jeans, you place them in the trash pile. “Might as well.”

“How do we feel about his sudden arrival? I mean, the giant pizza statue on the van was a little dramatic for me.”

He’s trying to keep the conversation light, which you appreciate him for, but you also know that Steve is doing this because he’s worried about you. And, you know, he’s unnerved seeing Jonathan. There’s still a lot left unsaid between you. 

“It’s… a lot.” You admit, struggling to find the right words to convey how you feel. “I’m relieved he’s okay, and I really am happy to see him again, but I… I understand, you know. If you’re upset.”

Steve scrunches his face. “I’m not upset, just… I don’t know. Annoyed with the guy.”

“So you’re upset.”

“Okay, no–”

“Is that Vickie with Robin?” You unintentionally cut Steve off, too surprised by the fact that mere feet away from you is Robin and Vickie making sandwiches together. And they’re laughing. “Are they talking together?”

Steve whips his head around, disbelieving, but lets out a low whistle when he sees Robin making easy conversation with Vickie. “Well I’ll be damned. Who knew our girl had it in her?”

The Jonathan talk lays forgotten as you and Steve admire your friend. You share a secret smile, remembering your own first awkward, bantering conversations together. There is so much pain in this town, and yet you watch as love still blossoms within it.

Across the room, you see Dustin talking to an older man. They’re deep in discussion and you notice your brother’s shaking shoulders. He’s crying. The older man is, too. You narrow your eyes, unsure if you should approach, but when Dustin hands the man Eddie’s old guitar pick, you realize who it is. 

“I’ll be back.” You kiss Steve’s cheek, excusing yourself. 

He tries to ask where you’re going, but you’re already gone. Your brother needs you right now.

Walking over, you stand to the side and allow Dustin and Eddie’s uncle some privacy. While there are so many things you want to say to the man, like how kind his nephew had been, how brilliant his mind was and how you’ll never forget the smile that never left his face, this is for Dustin and Dustin only. 

Eddie was his dearest friend. There is no greater loss than that.

Whatever Mr. Munson tells Dustin will be good for him; it will be the closure you can’t give him yourself. 

An arm wraps around you. You lean into the touch, knowing who it is without even having to look. You rest your head on Steve’s shoulder, exhausted, but content with the warmth he offers you. The two of you keep an eye on Dustin, ready to catch him in case he falls. 

Eventually Mr. Munson leaves, and you take his place next to Dustin. The second you sit down, the boy cries into your shoulder. Tears soak your shirt and your brother’s frail body shakes. “I-I had to tell him that Eddie died a hero.”

“I know,” your head falls against his.

“They’ll never know what he did for this town.” Sobs wrack Dustin’s body. “It isn’t-it isn’t fair.”

You rub his back, brush his hair out of his face. “None of it is fair, Dust.”

He cries even harder and you try to shield him from the world with your body. You try to block out the grief, the bitterness that follows death. How empty it can leave you. An emptiness that can swallow a person whole. 

You won’t let it happen to Dustin. 

“We’re gonna get through this together, alright? You and me, just like it’s always been. I promise–” Your words catch in your throat, tears forming in your own eyes. There’s so much you want to promise your brother, to swear that will come true, but you’re just as hurt and lost as he is. 

“I promise,” you make the words come out. “That everything will be okay. We’ll-we’ll be together, heal and do whatever we can to make everything okay. I-I’ll never leave you, you hear me? I won’t leave you again.”

Though Dustin still cries, his breathing slows. 

“Together. We’ll face this together.” As you talk, you notice a crowd of people swarming by the windows. They’re looking at something, staring and gasping. Your voice grows weak, anxious that something bad is about to happen. “It’ll… it’ll all work out.”

Dustin notices the crowd, too. He looks to you for answers, but you’re silent. You don’t know what’s happening. There’s a murmur in the crowd, hushed, urgent. It sets your skin on edge. Even more people get up now, some are even running outside, and every nerve in your body is screaming at you to run. 

Suddenly the room darkens, as if a giant cloud has covered the sky. Your stomach twists, and you get up, following after the crowd. Bodies shove each other, people blindly walk through the haze of whispers and uncertainty. 

When you step outside, all you see is ash.

The ash falls like snowflakes, beautiful and pure. There’s a softness to it, something delicate in the ruin it leaves. Dustin knocks against you, staring up into the sky with the same dread that you feel. The crowd is murmuring with glee, whispering excitedly about what they believe to be snow; but they’re wrong.

You’ve always won in the end. 

You’ve come to believe this to be a fact. You once told Steve that you believed you used up all your luck. Saving Will, closing the gate over and over again. The penance was the deaths from this summer for the greedy way you abused luck.

Steve had reminded you that there was still good leftover in the bad. That there will always be softness in the destruction, a reason for hope. That you will always find a way out, that luck and love were two sides of the same coin.

You’ve always won in the end. 

Yet, lost in the swarm of people, you watch as the sky begins to fall and Hawkins descends into the Upside Down. 

You no longer believe it.

[END OF SEASON FOUR]

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

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[thepunkranger]

Resident Evil Characters - A Summary

Note: This is entirely my own opinion and said with a heavy dose of humor

Please enjoy

Chris Redfield

OG

Started as a twunk

Became an angry gorilla man???

Alpha Male™️

Punches boulders

Wants you to marry his sister

Smoker

Hide yo kids, hide yo wife

Rude to wait staff

2/10 - Just a guy. Hit him with your car

-

Jill Valentine

Other OG

Arguably better main of RE1

Master of Unlocking

Bisexual Bob™️

Butch

Supercop

Once got mind-controlled into going blonde

Rocket Launcher babe

PTSD

Big Strap Energy

Giant anime gun

10/10

-

Albert Wesker

OG Baddy

Sunglasses

Thinks he’s cool

A little too into Chris

“What are we going to do this game, Albert?”

“What we do every game, Alex: try to take over the world”

Matrix jacket

Maybe a vampire?

Looks like my uncle (derogatory)

4/10

-

Barry Burton

Bear

A+ line delivery

Just happy to be a part of things

Wishes his daughter would talk to him

Comes through in a pinch

Got lost on his way to The Last of Us

Father figure

Not dead out of sheer dumb luck

8/10

-

Rebecca Chambers

Baby butch

Sees the best in everyone

Autism be damned, my girl can work a shotgun

Sporty

Mommy Domme/Babygirl switch vibes

Sweet coffee addict

Doing fine, thanks for asking

Awkward thumbs up

9/10

-

Billy Coen

Bad Boy™️

Never bothered to take off his handcuffs

Tattoos

Mullet???

Moral standards

Strong silent type

Whole situation could’ve been avoided by just talking about his issues but no

Queen fan

7/10

-

Leon S. Kennedy

If a golden retriever became a human and then got kicked every day of its life

Having a really bad first day

Into dominant women

Dumb 90s haircut

Uses comedy as a coping mechanism

Hair grows in direct correlation to his level of angst

“Hey demons, it’s me, ya boi”

Sexy

Dog lover

Certified Good Boy™️

Fucked up a perfectly good rookie is what you did. Look at it, it’s got depression

15/10

-

Claire Redfield

College student stuck in the zombie apocalypse

Soft butch

Humanitarian

Forced her brother to teach her how to knife fight

Really into motorcycles

Leather jacket

Rocket Launcher babe #2

Always has at least one adopted child with her

10/10 would ask to babysit

-

Ada Wong

Mommy. Sorry. Mommy- sorry. Mommy-

Grappling hook

Badass spy

Emotionally distant

Soft spot for cute cuddly things (Leon)

Femme fatale

Book lover

Chaotic neutral

Crossbow 😍

Could step on me and I’d say thank you

Rocket launcher babe #3

10/10

-

Sherry Birkin

Goosebumps protagonist

Worst parents ever tbh

Surprisingly good under pressure

Please someone get this girl some therapy

Supergirl

Smartest person here

One hell of a shot

The trauma is immeasurable

Somehow still doing fine

Loves her weird adopted family

8/10

-

Carlos Oliviera

Himbo

First POC main?

Went from three polygons and a white boy haircut in the original to actual gorgeous South American hunk in the remake

Lost his accent along the way for some reason

#1 Jill simp

If Dug from Up was a guy

Only trustworthy person in the whole series

Just wants to help

Gorgeous gorgeous hair

Loves strong women

Hakuna matata

Touch-starved

10/10 would peg

-

Steve Burnside

Twink

Who is this sassy lost child?

Hot Topic employee

Into Claire (she’s too old for you bud)

Choker

Thinks he’s edgy

Whiny

Daddy issues

1/10

-

Luis Serra Navaro

If Puss in Boots was a human

The Most Extra™️

Luscious flowing locks

Definitely into bondage

Used to work for Umbrella

Trying to make up for it

Don Quixote references

Bisexual

Good with his hands

Praying for a threesome with Leon and Ada

10/10

-

Ashley Graham

Basic white girl

Always getting kidnapped

Master of Unlocking #2

Razor flip phone

Ada Wong bisexual awakening (same)

Good with a wrecking ball

Makes Leon catch her every time she has to jump a ledge (also same)

Would like to go to Hot Topic, please

7/10

-

Sheva Alomar

Player 2

Second POC main

Bad AI

Too good for her game

Willing to go on a suicide mission with a guy she just met

Left handed

Deserves a better stylist

Only good part of RE5

Literally my girl got done so dirty just give her another chance please

10/5

-

Moira Burton

“It’s not a phase, dad!”

Probably gay

Weak arms

Skillz

Box dyed her hair at least once

Simple Plan playing in the background

Childhood trauma

7/10

-

Piers Nivans

Trying his best

Appreciates a good steak

Sick of Chris’ bullshit

Good with a rifle

Just a good man

German Shepherd boy

Self-sacrificing

8/10

-

Jake Muller

Wesker’s son

Daddy issues

Who invited Ronan Lynch here?

Quips for days

Bad boy

Loves the type of woman who can kick his ass

The Most Edgy™️

9/10

-

Ethan Winters

Husband of the year

Trusting

Surprisingly chill

The most basic white man in all of RE

Hands? What hands?

Functionally a lizard

Would still love you if you were a worm

Just casually knows how to craft bullets

Moldy

8/10

-

Mia Winters

Toxic girlfriend energy

Literally possessed

Dark sense of humor

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss

Casually working for a bioterrorism organization

Does actually care about her family

Definitely doesn’t have a penicillin allergy

If you can’t be the girl of his dreams, you can at least be the feral swamp witch of his nightmares

2/10

-

Zoe Baker

Lesbian

Mold intolerance

Southern accent thicker than grandma’s gravy

Picked last on the playground

Somehow okay despite her brother being Like That

Joe’s favorite

Science skills

8/10

-

Lucas Baker

Jigsaw

Didn’t even need the mold

Probably got at least one true crime documentary made about him

Working for Mia’s bioterrorism organization

Left his classmate rotting in the attic

Just the worst

0/10

-

Alcina Dimetrescu

Mommy

Please step on me

Elizabeth Bathory vibes

Just fucking huge

Can turn into a dragon

Lesbian

9/10

-

Karl Heisenberg

Grimy

Tumblr Sexyman

When robotics majors get weird

Fights with his siblings

Doesn’t actually care at all about Miranda

In cahoots with the lycans

7/10

-

Rosemary Winters

Mommy and Daddy issues

YA protagonist

Badass

Childhood trauma

Into the Mold-verse

Alternate universe Sherry Birkin

8/10

[steviewashere]

Pacific Waters

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Depression, Minor Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Negativity Tags: Post-Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Steve Harrington Whump, Depressed Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Self-Worth Issues, Steve Harrington Feels Like a Burden (again), Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents (Sorta), Steve Harrington Talking About His Dreams, Steve Harrington Has a Special Interest With Marine Biology, Neurodivergent Steve Harrington (If You Squint), Eddie Munson Comforts Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, But There's No Love Confession, And They Very Much So Don't Get Together Here, Water Imagery, Ocean Imagery Well, this is the depressed Steve at the beach fic I've had in my drafts for a couple months. This is the original draft of "My Scars Are Hiding (My Branches Don't Show)", but obviously this draft was heavily modified in the final version. Sorry if the ending of this is overly sweet, I just didn't want it to be super depressing.

🌊————————🌊 The sand clumps between his toes as he digs them further underground. Wind slaps him across the face, one-two, one-two, one-two. They’ll be ruddy and well blotchy when he makes it back inside. Hair wild around him, catching tangles into his eyes. Ocean water rushing up to the very tips of his toes, kissing them with pecks, receding back.

He tightens his arms harder around his knees. Legs folded up to his chest, chin resting on his knobby joints. Fuzzy skin to his baby faced chin. Sunglasses squished up the bridge of his nose, nearly one with his brow bone. T-shirt billowing lightly at the hem, air tickling up his ribs, and smoothing the shirt back down with the same featherlight fingers.

Eddie wades in the shallow water. Ocean to below his knees. Holding up pant legs in his tight, naked fingers. Hair in thick wisps above and angled to the left. He’s looking out at the horizon, at the midday sun, at the crystal catch-alls of sunlight. There’s peace cascading down his body—evident in the relax of his shoulders, the loose straightness of his spine. It’s him rippled by a calm, a sense of wonder.

“I’ve been to the beach before,” Eddie had told him, “many, many years ago. Down in California on a Disney trip paid for by my grandpa. I haven’t seen it since. I’m going to take you.”

Steve thinks Eddie looks good like this.

Wishes he could figure out how to be like Eddie in this moment. Instead of some knot tethered in the sand, in the fine dust of eroded rocks and shattered beer bottles and crumbled crustacean shells.

He swallows around nothing, breathes through his nose. Tongue like tongue—a wet sponge in his mouth, a muscle that jumps when he unclenches his teeth, an organ. His whole mouth tastes like grief; of things he never did, things he should’ve done, things he can’t wait to do. It’s cardboard and salt and smoke. Staleness, too, that he figures is from forgetting to brush his teeth this morning, last night, the day before, and the day before that one, too.

No matter where he goes, his brain follows. It follows with tension. With unknown fear etched deep in the webbings of his fingers, splinter-riddled where he gripped that nail-bat. Bloodshed and blood soaks, where he laid his hands, where he squashed, where he protected when need be. Memories of knuckles to his cheeks, ribs under his palms, blank stares into sterile rooms; broken bones and white irises and floating half-corpses; anger, so much anger.

Confusion. Anger. Confusion. Anger.

Grief; so much grief.

It all sits deep within him in this very moment: a pulsating, shiny, inflated to burst ball in his stomach. Uneasy and nauseous. Nothing digested inside him.

Eddie looks over his shoulder at him. He can’t quite make out the expression on his face. But there’s that heavy weight of being stared at. Steve unfurls his right hand, where it had been tight on his opposite forearm, and sends a finger-wave. Makes his lips do something like a smile, but it’s tight, pinching his cheeks, makes the corners of his mouth ache.

“You good?” He thinks Eddie mouths.

Steve lifts the same hand and shifts it side to side. Sort of.

As soon as he splays his hand back on his own forearm, Eddie begins wading out of the water. He folds his pant legs to rest cinched on his knees. Stomps through the sand, arms out at his sides, fingers splayed as he keeps his balance. And then he plops down next to Steve, breath huffing and puffing as he catches it. He knocks their shoulders together.

“Why so-so? Should we head back to the cabin?”

He shrugs, no matter how little. “Just feel sorta…blank, I guess?”

“Blank,” Eddie echoes softly. He looks out at the horizon, then back to Steve. His mouth opens and closes like a floundering fish—something like Steve feels. And sighs through his nose. Then, soft still, “I’m worried about you, sweetheart.” A hand to the center of Steve’s back, fingers brushing the knobs of his spine.

Steve sighs into the touch. Reaches up to his sunglasses, dragging them into his hair once the sun dips lower and lower still. He blinks at the sudden change of lighting, but doesn’t look over at Eddie quite yet. Instead, he unfolds his legs so that he’s criss-cross and barely sinking, knee hitting Eddie’s thigh. He worms his right hand under the sand, combing fingers through it as if he’s petting the fluffy back of an animal. “How so?” he musters.

“It’s like…like…you’ve disappeared into yourself now that the world isn’t ending,” Eddie murmurs, “like something up and left.”

He sniffs, scratches the skin of his neck, looks over at the sand falling from his grip. That’s me, he notes, the sand. “Hm,” Steve grunts. But he leaves it at that.

“You can talk to me,” Eddie whispers, “if you need somebody to just listen.”

“I know,” Steve returns in the same volume, “I just…it’s just…”

“Just?”

He shrugs again. “It’s just stuff, y’know.” Steve drags a heavy breath through his lungs, heaving them as if lifting weights. The sand keeps passing through his fingers. Not slowly. Not within seconds either. Just…falling. Melting back into the rest of the sand, sitting right where it initially belonged. And yet…yet the imprints of his fingers has disturbed the original mound it had been in. It’ll never go back to that original mound, unless he were to reshape it. But even then, he’s not sure how to do that. Steve swallows around nothing again. “Like…have you ever felt like, no matter what you do, your life isn’t yours?”

Eddie inhales sharply. His whole torso seizes with it. “Sure, in some ways,” he answers, “before I moved in with Wayne. When everything I did was controlled by fear—of my dad, of bullies…my own hands, sometimes.” A gentle pet down Steve’s back, down and up, resting warmly between his shoulder blades. “Is that…is that how you’ve been feeling?”

The sand passes and passes, dust and dust—kuh-shhh, kuh-shhh. There’s the ocean, crashing hard and unrelenting, but the sea-foam kisses soft. He digs his thumb underground until he finds a large shard of shell. Picks it up between his index and middle finger, dangling just above the indentations in the sand. Eyeing it: where the stray sun rays glow the edges, the speckles of sand caught in the fine crevices, leftover chalky residue coating his fingertips.

When crustaceans no longer fit their shells, they find a new one. Molting. Once they can no longer justify fitting in the same shell, they molt; survival, a need.

He always wanted to be a marine biologist. Work out in the ocean. Saltwater cold against his diving gear. Gloved hands brushing sea rocks, the gentle sculptures of coral reefs. It had to be freeing, to work a job like that—to swim with the fish, zig-zag and snake-like. To be free.

Then, his dad thrusted him into sports—outside of his pick of swimming. Not that he didn’t enjoy playing, he did, but it hadn’t been his choice. It hadn’t been his choice to involve himself with the business clubs or the student council. Hadn’t been his decision to get popular. Hadn’t been his decision to cater. It was all just expected of him. That he’d graduate high school, go directly into college, graduate from there with honors, land a big shot career—business, like his dad—find a nice girl, settle down, have kids…big house, picket fence, and a little dog, too. Parts of that he liked the thought of. A lifelong partner. A dog. Good career. But everything else wasn’t him.

At least some of his decisions lead to the Party and to Robin and to Eddie. He chose to help Nancy and Jonathan. Everything else, though, it felt like people were relying on him to do the job, to be there, to take over. He did it, of course he did. He shouldn’t have to be responsible like that, though; he shouldn’t have had to take it all on.

He shouldn’t have to sit here with the remnants of himself, scattered and unfit like the sand below.

“I wanted to be a marine biologist,” he murmurs to Eddie after some thought.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Wanted to swim with the fish. Wanted to study their homes, their ecosystems. Wanted to know what they ate, how they travelled with each other, who their predators were.” Steve rests the shell in his flat palm and hovers it above his folded lap. There’s sand scattered across his bare shins, his knees right where the shorts don’t cover. “My mom used to take me out here to the west coast, used to stop by the beaches. She’d run around with me. Chase me up and down the sand dunes, help me pick up shells—like this one”—he displays it to Eddie—“this one’s a mollusk; think it’s a scallop, based on the rounded edge of it? She and I would identify them all because of this book I had.

“It was a thick book. Full of pictures and definitions and biological names for all the different mollusks and crustaceans. She’d ask me what shell I wanted to find, and I’d tell her, and we’d go. And we’d find it.” He shimmies the piece of shell so it rests between his fingers again. Holding it up the pale night sky. It’d probably be a pink or purple-pink in the daylight. Here, though, it’s dark and blue and muted. He sighs. Continues, “Now…now I’m afraid to swim in even my own fucking pool. And I just sit around my house, waiting for somebody to fill it. I’d call, but everybody’s busy. Everybody’s always so busy.

“Steve has the nail bat and Steve has the car and Steve is the babysitter. And I enjoy that gig, most of the time I do, but what about his company? I have company, how about that? Steve has another concussion and another concussion and man up, Steve, man up, stop crying, stop it with the nightmares, stop with your unrealistic dreams—be this, do that. That’s not okay, that’s not right; you need to apologize—oh, but I did nothing wrong—apologize anyway! Hey, wanna come watch a basketball game with me? No, Steve, that’s stupid. That’s jock shit—you’re bullshit, Steve, it’s all bullshit.”

In a last second decision, Steve closes his fingers tight around that shell shard. He clenches as hard as he can, knuckles turning white, nails starting to bite the skin of his palm. And when he opens his fist again, the shell is nothing but dust. Sand. It falls between his fingers, something he can no longer grasp onto. He watches it pour over his naked legs, into the well of sand below him, dissipating into just another small pool of erosion beneath him.

It becomes a fine nothingness.

He swallows around nothing once more. Words that should dry up just stuck in his throat, hard to digest.

“My life is bullshit,” Steve croaks, “it’s never mine. Just everybody else’s to have, to use. I’m a sex god, I’m a great kisser, I’m a lonely guy trying to get his fill. I’m King Steve and a jock and a nerd and a dingus and utter horseshit. I’m a wash-up, a smudge. A burden.

“I’m a burden to my own fucking brain, Eddie”—he smiles something sickly and small and humorless—“I’m just…just stuff. Just this with nothing else to it. Sitting here on a beach I used to know the feel and sound of, cowering at the rush of waves that used to meet me as I ran to it. Sitting in complete darkness, feeling awfully sorry for myself. And for what? Why am I here? Doing any of it?

“I…I…never mind. Never mind,” he mutters, shaking his head. His lips roll tight against his teeth, he drags his sunglasses to sit over his eyes again, and he keeps his face pointed at the ocean. At the calm waves. At the coral reefs he wanted to explore. At a dream he left behind in order to chase what everybody else expected of him. Expectations. Steve Harrington is full of other people’s expectations. “Sorry,” he whispers, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laid that all on you like that. Guess I’m just stuck right now. Outside of my body, that kind of shit.”

Eddie’s hand is still. Marked flat in the center of Steve’s back. Silenced. “Steve,” he breathes.

He shakes his head once more. “I shouldn’t have said it all like that. Just…just…yeah. I’m stuck, that’s it. That’s all it is.”

“Steve,” Eddie whispers. Voice somehow cutting over the crashing waves, over the distant bustles of a city rising to nightlife, over boats sailing far away. He blinks behind the sunglasses, but makes no other movement. “Look at me,” he demands featherlight, “look at me, Steve.” The waves kiss his toes again, frothing frozen over his skin, receding. “Please,” he hears plead in a murmur, “please, Steve, look at me.”

Damn him. Damn you, Eds.

If there’s one thing he’s going to do since March, it’s listen to Eddie. Obey commands. Or…really, give himself over to the aching. To the incessancy. To a desire he’s been trying to chase away—melting into Eddie, no matter what.

Reluctantly, he pries the glasses off his face, twiddles them around in his grainy palms, and drops them into the sandpit between his legs. And then, one arduously slow second at a time, turns his head over to Eddie’s voice. His jaw twitching hard, locking right into place. Nostrils flaring, brine air coating and sticking to his nose hairs. Eyelashes heavy, clumped by the salt when he blinks once more—blinks to clear the image, to focus the surroundings, blur the background and soft-spot Eddie. Already, he fizzles, pops, and burns like the bonfire they prepared the other night. Where sticky s’mores melted over their fingertips, frothy beer stuck center to Eddie’s stubble, and their laughs rivaled seagulls making their way homebound. And he was flickering, brave and gentle and anew, for just a moment—the flame in the cold, at the center of it, alive.

The hand on his back travels. Fingers trailing and bumping over spine knobs. Nails shifting the thin fabric of his t-shirt. A palm finally landing, warm and soft and cautious on his neck. Some sort of peace offering; a pheromone; a slurry of words during a panic episode, nestled in the corner of the couch, eyes dropped to his knees so he won’t be startled when he comes to, and a hot drink waiting. Waiting for him to come back. To look.

To see.

“Thank you,” Eddie says softly, “for letting me know what’s going on. Okay?” He nods once at Steve, so he bobbles back—not really an understanding, doing it just to do. Eddie’s eyes flicker like those flames, back and forth and dancing over his face. Dark and searching. Effortlessly adventuring like owls on prowl. “And I’m sorry”—

“Ed, it’s not”—

“No,” he firmly interrupts. “No, Steve. Listen. I don’t…I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but just listen to me. I am sorry, okay? I’m sorry that I might’ve played a part in all this, even in the short amount of time I’ve been able to know you. Because I know, Steve. I know, in some way—whether you wanna approach that hill or not—that I’ve been a part of this.

“But I’m sorry that not only has the world been unkind, but your own fucking life. You deserve to have control and you deserve to have your own purpose and you deserve everything you could want. Even if…even if you feel like you don’t. I get that part, okay? I get it, sweetheart, I do.

“It’s unfair, though. It’s unfair you’ve been treated like some trophy on a shelf. High on a pedestal. And…and…Steve. Steve, I need you to know that your life isn’t over. You’re talking to me like it is and I can assure to you, in this moment, you aren’t done with it. I won’t let you be done with it—that’s one thing I’m gonna dictate over you. The only thing.” Eddie’s other hand comes up at that, too. Slow-like and gentle. Cupping the right side of Steve’s face, his remaining palm going to the left side. Holding him in place between his hands, as if Steve is an entire universe, a planet meant for observing.

Steve swallows, but this time around a lump. A sour lump, solid and immovable lodged deep inside him. It’s the pulsing sphere in his stomach, it’s the tears he has yet to give name to, it’s build-up. Calcium on a shower-head. “Ed,” he mutters, voice wavering, “you don’t…you don’t mean any of”—

“I do!” Eddie exclaims softly. “I do,” he then whispers. “You want a star? I’ll buy you one. You want a garden? I’ll bring you the seeds and the soil. You want to just sleep? I’ll tuck you in. Don’t you get it? Don’t you?

“I’m not asking you to believe me. I’m not asking you to just accept the words tumbling out of my fuckin’ mouth. I’m asking nothing of you. But I care. I care about you, Steve. I care so much about you—if something happened, I don’t know what, but if something were to happen to you, it’d be like Hell all over again. So, I’m gonna ask you a question. Just one question. Just…answer me. However you want, I want you to answer me. That’s the only other thing, okay?” His eyes are flickering again, harder this time, aggressively. The flames of the bonfire tore higher and higher, cascading to the sky; his fingertips had been melded together by marshmallow guts and chocolate tears; the beer sloshed inside him like he was a boat in the ocean; but Eddie held his hand and helped him put it out, helped him find the solution. This is that. The flames. A fire.

He nods once, not much movement, not much to give—head still held between hands, sure and firm and still—but he gives just this one thing.

Like he did in the Upside Down, Eddie does it back. “Okay,” he whispers, “Steve.”

And he blinks, eyelids heavy, stinging. Heat tears down his cheek, biting him all the way to his chin where it wobbles precociously. Doesn’t stop it. Doesn’t want to.

Tenderly, Eddie catches the droplet on his thumbs. Not even acknowledging it with a breath. Then, “What do you want? Out of anything in the world, what do you want?”

A lot of things, he doesn’t say.

My parents. A bedtime story. Hot dinner with a loud house.

To be wanted like a friend, not a fighter.

Maybe a dog or two? Small, though. To keep me company?

You. Your eyes. And your mouth. And your smile. The words you have for me. For your hands to keep holding me forever. A flicker to engulf. For us to be here, at the beach, under this sky with the stars and the birds sleeping on the water and the boats, shells under our legs and for me to identify them all for you while you tell me about Dungeons & Dragons and for us to be happy, stuck in time.

A few more tears trail down his cheeks. He darts over Eddie’s face this time. Not really looking, more just recognizing. Something, he’s not sure.

“To be a marine biologist, Ed,” he murmurs, “to not be afraid of getting in the ocean with you. And I can stand there, pointing out all the…the creatures and shit at our feet. Be taken seriously as I talk about what I love. The seashells. The wildlife.”—he swallows the lump, warm and sleepy, somehow content after it all—“To be free.”

There’s a soft, small smile on Eddie’s face. Just barely stretching. “Will you do something with me? You can say no, but I just wanna…wanna try something. That alright?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“You see the tide right now?” Eddie stretches out his left arm, finger pointed at the foaming edge of the water. His hands fall away from Steve’s face. Following where Eddie’s pointed, he hums his acknowledgement. “I think—if you hold onto me—we can kneel in that bit of water there. And maybe you can talk to me about any shells we can find?”

Looking closer at the tide, Steve blindly reaches out and wraps his hand on Eddie’s wrist. Squeezing hesitantly, yet tightly. “I…I don’t know if”—

“We don’t have to,” Eddie whispers, his voice close—it’s as if his head is turned, his mouth directly next to Steve’s ear, but he can’t bring himself to look. “I just thought that, well, if you want to be a marine biologist, then we gotta start with the basics. Right? So…this’ll be exposure or something. Again, though, we don’t have to”—

“And you’ll be there? You won’t…you won’t let go, right?”

“No,” he murmurs, shaking his head—a stray curl whips the side of Steve’s head. “I’ll keep holding on as long as you want me to.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Steve hums. He takes a slow, deep breath. Lets it out just as slowly. “Okay,” he says, “but not too far in.”

At that, Eddie gently rises from the sand, pulling Steve up with him. They tread over the sand, wobbly footing and knees shaking as they keep their balance. Far enough that the tide meets the soles of their feet, but doesn’t rise farther than the tops. However, Eddie doesn’t kneel down until Steve begins to. Going just as slow as Steve needs, one moment at a time.

“It’s cold,” Steve whispers, still kneeling down.

Eddie breathes out a tiny snort. “Yeah, I should’a mentioned that, sorry.”

“’S’okay,” he murmurs, “just watch out for jellyfish. We’ll have to go back inside if they sting you.”

“Duly noted.”

Finally, when Steve is fully sat back on his haunches, Eddie meets him in the sand. The water laps around their shins. Foamy and cold and biting. But the water doesn’t rise, doesn’t try to knock them down.

It’s odd, both distant and full, how Steve welcomes the water back to himself. Nothing like being under it, though, swimming his heart out—until it’s pounding and he’s heaving for breath and needing to get out because he’s pruning. But it’s still comfortable, for now, at least.

Eddie’s left hand digs into the sand at their knees. Rummaging and digging and burrowing until he makes a small, “a-ha!” and presents a shard of something up in Steve’s line of sight. “What kind of shell is this, Stevie?”

He snorts, taking in the object that’s held right in front of him. “Eds, that’s a shard of a beer bottle. That’s not a shell.” Before he lets Eddie get too downtrodden, Steve is searching in the sand, too. Holding up his own find. “This one’s a sand dollar,” he explains softly, “it’s not a shell. Not technically. In fact, it’s not even dead.”

“It’s not?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve can see Eddie tilt his head slightly. It’s cute, if only he could work the courage to say that. But venturing into the little bit of water is enough for tonight. He shakes his head. “No, it’s very alive. A very alive, flat sea urchin. See how this is super dark?” Lifting the sand dollar up higher, he lets the bit of light from the moon brighten it. “This one’s almost black. Kinda like a deep purple. And if I flip it over”—which he does—“you can see all these little things on the bottom.”

The underside glints and shifts, but shadows with how Eddie moves closer. “Whoa,” he lightly gasps. “What the hell are those things?”

“Bristles,” Steve answers, “they move kinda like worms or, and this is kinda gross, like maggots do. Squirming. See?” He tilts the sea urchin again, holding it closer for Eddie to see. Taking in the even tinier gasp that elicits out of Eddie, he knows he’s done his job. “They act as little legs or arms for the urchin. Dragging microorganisms—like plankton—to a small opening in the center of these bristles. Essentially bringing the plankton in for eating. It’s cool, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “shit, Steve, this is probably the coolest biology lesson I’ve had.”

“You’re only saying that because you used to fall asleep in biology, Eds.”

“But I’m being honest! Seriously, Stevie, this is genuinely super cool.” Eddie gets closer again, nearly stitched into Steve’s side. “Will you show me other stuff? How ‘bout…”—he digs in the sand again—“…how about this one?”

This time, Steve actually full bodily laughs. “Eddie,” he sighs. “Ed, that’s another glass bottle shard.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know?”

“I’ll find some more, Eds. Help me dig?”

Eddie gives him a sloppy salute on his forehead. “At your service, future marine biologist.” Steve rolls his eyes, but before he can get too far into his distracted digging, Eddie’s pulling on his arm. He looks over, curious—mainly to see if it’s yet another glass shard that he’s being shown—but he’s met with Eddie’s soft, beautiful face. “I’m serious, Stevie. I’m gonna help you get to that dream career again, no matter what it takes.”

He smiles. Soft and personal and just for Eddie. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, sweet”—

“No, Eds,” he murmurs, “thank you for listening. For…for trying to help me. It means a lot to me.”

“I’ll always listen, Steve. No matter what, sweetheart. Now, let’s get digging; I’ve got some learning to do.”

Tonight won’t fix it all, but it’s a start. And Eddie’s right. His life isn’t over yet. This is a new beginning.

🌊————————🌊

[her-power]

Last Chance to Dance (Part Three: Rockstar! e.m. x fem reader)

🚨🛑🔞18+++ MINORS DNI - YOU WILL BLOCKED🚨🛑🔞 TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING (For entire series): Rockstar! Addict! Sweet! Mean! Eddie, smut, unprotected p+v, fluff, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, oral (m+f receiving), heavy drug use, descriptions of IV drug use, swearing, talks of anxiety, panic disorder, mental illness, talks of suicide

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Last Chance to Dance Part One Part Two

Summary: Full Summary on Part One

Word Count: 4.9k

I feel your hands on my waist before I open my eyes, your fingers trace a line down my abdomen, stopping above my pelvis. I let out a soft gasp and smile into the pillow. I feel your lips graze against my shoulder, leaving soft kisses. I feel you press your breasts against my back and your hand slinks down, grasping my length in your hand, gently fisting up and down. A soft moan escapes me, and your lips press against my neck. Your hands are soft, delicate and you pump me faster. I groan, turning my face to you, pressing my lips to yours. I turn on to my back, holding your face in my hand to deepen the kiss. 

“Mmmm.” I moan against your lips. “What a way to wake up.” 

You smile at me, pushing your body into mine. I hook your leg around my waist, kissing you deep. You continue to pump me with your hand while grinding against me; I can feel the wetness between your legs. I move myself on top of you; bringing your nipple into my mouth, squeezing your breasts and you moan softly. I grip your ass, kissing you deeply and I rub my hand against your clit and your opening. I groan loudly and push my cock inside you. You let out a gasp and I smile against your lips. It had been like this since yesterday; the snowstorm had finally let up this morning, but the plows had yet to come down the streets. I planned on shoveling out your car, but ever since we made love, we haven’t been able to stop. It was Christmas Eve, and I don’t think I’ve been sober for a holiday in ten years. I feel a small ache in my chest, and I pull away from your lips for a second to look at you. Your fingers curl through my hair, and I run my hand along your face, your jaw. I slowly rock my hips and your head falls back in pleasure; I continue to stare at you. How could this be real? How was it possible that fifteen years later we had found each other again? Over a letter? My eyes flutter close, and I bury my face in your shoulder, thrusting faster, you feel so good. 

I remember us back then, how young we were, full of life. There was so much passion, even when we fought. It was always the little things we fought about, how you knew how to get under my skin, and I knew exactly what buttons to push.  We had left Steve’s house after a house party. Well, you had left, because I was an asshole, and I had chased after you. It was pouring out. It was the middle of summer, but the rain was cold. 

“Baby, come on! I’m sorry!” I chase after you, stumbling over my own feet because I’m a little drunk. You’re drunk too, but you know how to handle yourself because you are a fucking champ. 

“You’re sorry.” You scoff, you’re picking up speed. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. You’re always fucking sorry!” 

“Stop, stop, stop.” I’m able to catch up with you and stop in front of you. The rain soaks the both of us, your black dress stuck to your skin, I could tell you were shivering. “You’re shivering, come on. Let’s go home.” 

“I’m not going home with you; I’d rather sleep outside.” You push past me, and I groan. 

“You’re seriously making a big deal out of nothing.” 

“Nothing?!” You turn towards me so fast it startles me, and I stumble backwards. “You told Steve that I’m a better fuck when I’m high!” 

“Baby, I was kidding!” I say, trying not to laugh. “It was a stupid joke. I didn’t mean it, I meant to tell him when you’re high, you get wild. And the sex is great—"

“Oh, because that makes it better! Get away from me.” You scoff, shoving me away. “I know he’s our best friend, but it would be nice if you kept our sex life private, that shits embarrassing.” 

I’m getting annoyed now, I was wet, cold, I felt like a drowned fucking rat. “Oh, but it’s okay for you to tell Robin I like getting fingered in the ass?” 

You stop walking and turn towards me. “She wasn’t supposed to say anything, and I was drunk when I told her that.” 

“I’m drunk now!” I almost laugh. “Baby, do you hear yourself? This is so stupid.” 

“You told Steve I was better at fucking when I was under the influence! That is not the fucking same! That’s YOU saying that I’m boring when I’m sober. That’s fucked up.” Your wet hair is sticking to your face, the rain is getting heavier, and I can see how cold you are. I’m able to grip your upper arms and you tense under my touch. 

“Sweetheart, you are the girl of my fucking dreams. Sober, not sober, you rock my fucking world.” You stare at me, your eyes darting from my eyes to my mouth. You lean in like you’re about to kiss me. 

“Liar.” You whisper under your breath and pull yourself out of my grip, turning away from me. I roll my eyes and groan. You’re walking faster away from me but still talking. “You can’t get shit past me. I may be fucking you now, but I’ve been your best friend since diapers, so I know when you’re full of shit.” 

“So, this is just what we’re doing? Just fucking? Nothing else?” I’m angry now, how dare you think that. 

You turn towards me, walking backwards. “I don’t know, you tell me Eddie. I feel like you have a fucking magnet to my vagina everytime you see me since we started having sex! I feel like that’s all you want from me.” 

“That’s not all I want from you, are you being serious right now?” I stare at you with my mouth open. “You’ve known me your whole life and you think it’s just the sex for me?” 

“What else could it be?” You sneer at me, and I shake my head, I’m pissed now. 

“Fine, think that. I’m not fucking stopping you.” Thunder booms in the distance and you storm away from me. We go opposite directions; you head towards your house, and I go to my trailer. Wayne was working another overnight and I was grateful I didn’t have to have a conversation. The rain was hard against my face as I run the few steps to the trailer. I run inside, the screen door slamming behind me. I pull my wet t-shirt over my head and toss it towards my room and light up a cigarette. My hair drips onto my skin and I grab a towel, squeezing out the wetness from my curls. The cigarette dangles from my lips and I almost choke on the smoke when I hear the screen door open and close, and you’re standing there, soaking from head to toe; your hair all over your face, your skin damp. You’re glowering at me, your chest heaving like you ran here. I put out the cigarette in the sink as we stare at each other. I walk towards you slowly and your eyes are still fixed on me like a wild animal. I grip your upper arms, and you try to move away from me, but I hold you in place. My mouth is inches from yours, and you sneer at me. 

“I really can’t stand you.” 

“Then why are you here?” I whisper to you; I tease my lips over yours and you groan. You pull me towards you by my hair, and we end up crashing into the kitchen counter. I hoist you up by your thighs and you kiss me desperately, wrapping your legs around me tight. You pull away from me again and are still glowering at me. 

“I really hate you.” 

“Yeah? Why don’t you show me how much you hate me?” I crash my lips against yours again, and your hands find my waist, pulling me closer. My hands go in between your legs, and you moan loudly. I push your underwear to the side; they were soaked from the rain and from you. You push me away by my chest, your hands in a hurry to undo my belt. I lean my palms against the cabinets next to your head, watching as you unzip me and pull down my pants, exposing my hardness. You kiss me again, pulling me towards you by my ass. I can see your nipples through the wet fabric of your dress, they peaked so nicely, I lean down and nip them through the fabric. You gasp and hold the back of my head, my fingers tickle your clit, and you moan against me, grabbing my dick. I scoot you towards me, holding your face in my hand. Your head falls back as I push myself inside you, and I groan. I fuck you against the cabinets, feeling every inch of your walls and feel your fingers claw my back. 

“I hate you.” You moan. “Fuck-I…” 

“Ungh, you feel so fucking good. Hate me all you want, baby, you’re not stopping me.” I moan when you grab my ass, pushing me deeper. You kiss me hungrily, opening your mouth wide, fighting my tongue with yours. I slam into you harder, your body thumps against the cabinet. “Mmmmm, like that baby?” 

“Fuck…yes…ohhhhh…” you bite my shoulder and I gasp, rolling my hips faster. The squelching of your wetness and the sounds of my balls hitting your cunt as I slam harder sends a blaze of euphoria through my entire soul. 

“Ohhh, fuck. Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum.” I groan against your shoulder, and I feel you move your hips with me. “Fuck yeah baby, just like that…unghhhh.” 

“Cum inside me, baby. I want my pussy to swallow you whole.” You say, staring deep into my eyes. I smile at you, my thrusts getting sloppy and I feel your pussy clench around my cock and you’re screaming. And I mean SCREAMING my fucking name and it sends me into a fucking spiral of madness and lust that I explode my entire load into your pussy, still fucking you. Not stopping for breath, your nails cut up my back as another orgasm cries out of you and you’re holding on to me while I hug your waist tightly. Our sounds loud and pornographic and it feels like the entire trailer is shaking. I pull myself back to look at you, moving your wet hair from your eyes. Your lips are parted as your breath comes out in waves. I hold your chin with my fingers, gently grazing my lips over yours.   

“Do you still hate me?” I whisper. 

“Always.” You say, licking my lips. 

I groan, smiling. “Good.” 

Down, down, down… I can hear them outside my door listening. They think I can’t hear them but I’m smarter than them. They’re trying to taunt me. They’re trying to break inside my head and feast on my brain. 

Both my arms sting as I crawl on my hands and knees underneath the windows. 

They try to mock your voice, getting me to open the door. You wouldn’t be here. You don’t even know where I live. What would you think of me right now? I wonder. Crawling on all fours, hiding from these imaginary creatures that are trying to feast on me. 

It’s not real. 

I’m not real, so they’re not real. 

We have two weeks off before we hit the last five cities of the tour. I’m in my cabin, in upstate New York. 

I bet these creatures followed me from the woods after my walk. 

What if Gareth sent these things? He hates me now, I’m just a junkie in his eyes, who still knows how to put on a good show so he can suck my dick. 

I had met my dealer yesterday; I was low on cash, he was willing to give me a discount if he could suck me off, so I let him, and then he wanted me to fuck him, so I did that too. 

Men, women, it didn’t matter anymore. If I got something out of it, I didn’t care what I put my dick in. 

They’re chatting outside my door now. I need to stop the noise. I crawl to my coffee table, blindly searching for a needle. 

I find one, and my stash, loading up the chamber with the drugs. I go to the bathroom to look in the mirror, my veins in both my arms are fucking sore, so I find a good one in my neck. My eyes flutter close, and I smile, awkwardly stumbling back to my living room. I couldn’t even feel the sweet burn anymore, it was almost like the burn was just built into my now. 

I sit on the couch. 

It’s quiet again. 

Thankfully.

I can’t handle the noise again. 

“Generals gathered in their masses…just like witches at black masses, evil minds that plot destruction…” I sing the beginning of War Pigs by Black Sabbath under my breath as my head lulls back against the couch. My phone buzzes in my pocket; I slowly take it out of my pocket and put it to my ear. 

“Eddie?” It was Ted.

“Did I miss curfew again?” I say and a stupid laugh escapes me.

“Jesus Eddie.” He says quietly. “Are you by yourself?”

“Nope, they’re outside my door. I think they’re asleep, they’re quiet now.” I tell him, curling my legs up to my chest.

“Who? What are you talking about?”

“I think Gareth sent them; they think I can’t hear them.” 

“Eddie, I’m coming to you. I’ll be there in an hour.” He says, he sounds panicked, then I begin to panic.

“No! Teddy! If they see you, they’ll hurt you! I can’t let them hurt you.” I feel tears spring to my eyes. “Please, man. I can’t lose you too.” 

“Just stay put, buddy. I’ll be there soon.” 

“Okay, okay.” I nod into the phone, and he hangs up. Part of me knew that whatever those things were weren’t real, and it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but they felt real to me. I know I didn’t just do heroin tonight; I think ketamine too. Cocaine? I had to protect Ted; he has done so much for me. I get up from the couch, taking the metal baseball bat I keep near my door. I swing open my front door, the hinges squeaking, and I stare out into the darkness of the woods. “Come on mother fuckers!” I yell out. “Think you can fuck with me?!”

I hear my voice echo around me, and all that talks back is the silence. I laugh, twirling the bat in my hands. “That’s what I thought, pussies!” 

I hear something skitter on the grass in front of my porch and I yelp, falling back on my ass, the bat rolling away from me. I scramble to my feet and run back in the cabin, shutting the door and locking it. I slide down to the floor, pulling my knees up to my chest, I keep my eyes on the window, I have to look for Ted’s headlights, to make sure I can get him in safely. They weren’t gonna hurt him, I’d rather die than have something hurt him. 

I see the headlights reflect off the window, and I quickly stand up. I hear his footfalls go up the wooden steps of the porch and I open the door. “Get in, get in!” I say, grabbing his arm and pulling him in, he stumbles into my living room. 

“Eddie, what the fuck?” He says, staring at me with wide eyes. 

I turn to him, and I whisper. “They’re out there.” 

“Eddie, there’s no one out there.” He tells me gently. 

“There is, there is.” My eyes are wide, I can feel it. I can also feel my tears on my cheeks. “They live in the woods.” 

Ted grasps me by my forearms. “I think…I think you’re gonna have to take it easy the next few days.” 

I stare at him, and nod. “Yeah…yeah, I need to rest. I need to…I feel like I’m going insane. They’re not out there?” 

“No, son.” He tells me quietly. “Where is your stuff?” 

“B-back bedroom and there.” I tell him, pointing to the coffee table where my needles were, my empty bag of drugs, and a few loose pills. He takes everything off the table, and I shiver, watching him walk away. “Where are you going?” My voice sounds younger, childlike.

“I’ll be right back, buddy. Just sit down. I’ll fix us something to eat.” I nod at him again and sit on my couch. Was this what my life was now? Constant paranoia, fearful of what walks outside. I look down at my arms, even with all my tattoos, you could see how black and blue my arms were. The track marks went all the way up towards my wrists, my arms looked skeletal. When was the last time I ate? 

Did people really still enjoy our shows? How could they not tell how fucked up I was every show? We were still up on the charts; Rolling Stone wanted another interview after the tour. 

I run my hands through my hair and shiver. This was madness. I was a fucking madman. 

The next morning, I wake up, feeling an ache in my stomach. No no no no. I try to move from the couch but every single muscle in my body feels stiff. I groan loudly, was I dying? Was this death? 

I look at the coffee table, none of my stash was there. I grit my teeth, trying to sit up. 

“Ted!” I yell, my throat was raw. 

I see his form come into the living room; his hair was tied up in a bun. I try to sit up but a wave of a nausea hits me. 

“You’re finally awake.” He says, putting a mug of coffee in front of me. The smell alone makes me dry heave. 

“What?” I hold my stomach, and grimace. “Fuck why is it so cold in here?” 

“You’ve been sleeping for two days.” Ted tells me and my eyes snap to his. Realization hits my gut, and I start to remember a few days ago. I told him to get rid of my stuff, that I needed a rest. 

No. No. No. No. 

“Where did you put it?” I ask, my teeth grind as it feels like my stomach is being clawed at. 

“It’s gone, Eddie. I did what you asked me to do.” He stares at me, and my eyes narrow. 

“Well, I was fucking lying!” I groan out in pain, my body folds back on the couch. “FUCK. This hurts, Teddy this hurts so bad.” I feel sweat pool behind my neck and my joints feel locked in place. “I need it, man. It’s the only thing that will make this pain stop.” 

“It’s gone, Eddie. I’m sorry.” He tells me, leaning back in his seat. 

“Fuck you!” I growl and tears spring to my eyes. “Why did you come here?!” 

“Because you were fucking losing it!” He yells at me. “Saying there were these things outside, taunting you, that Gareth sent them. Eddie, you’re rotting your brain with this shit!” 

A painful groan and sob escape me, and I gag. He brings a large cooking pot over to me and I vomit into it. My insides felt like they were on fire, nothing I did was making me comfortable. I clench my fingers against my stomach, my body was trembling. 

“I’ll give you Motrin for the pain.” 

“Fuck that!” I scream at him. “Ughhhhhhh. Fuck. Teddy, please, please I need something stronger.” 

“No.” He says, no emotion in his tone. 

I grit my teeth. “Fuuuuck you! Please, please man. I just need it to stop.” 

He leans back in the chair, lighting up a cigarette, just watching me. I wanted to fly off that couch and strangle him, but everything hurt. I was stuck there. 

I had passed out, the pain getting to be too much. I had taking off my clothes in the middle of the night and was just in my boxers. Ted was sitting in the recliner chair; some stupid fucking show was on the television. I had slid off the couch on my hands and knees, grunting as I crawled towards him. “I need…the fucking drugs, Teddy.” My voice is hoarse, and my muscles feel stiff. My head pushes against his thigh and he holds me back by my shoulders. I groan angrily; my palms were sweating as I tried to force my way through him. Tears pool from my eyes as another wave of pain hits my joints. 

“Please.” I sob. “I’ll do anything…I just want this pain to stop.” I feel his eyes on me, and I gaze up at him. 

He holds my face in his hands. “No.” 

I collapse onto my back, my chest heaving with sobs. “Fuck you, man. Why are you doing this to me?” He doesn’t respond. “Answer me!!!” 

I don’t even know what day it is. 

But I want to die. I want these withdrawals to take me out. I almost shit myself tonight. Ted had to drag me to the bathtub. I couldn’t stop crying; it was too much. 

I think I was saying your name in my sleep. Ted kept asking me who you were, and I finally said, “the girl that I loved and lost.” He said he never remembers me ever talking about you, and I tell him that it hurts too much to talk about. 

The shaking has stopped, my bones don’t feel like they’re breaking anymore. I still want to die, I’m feeling everything. 

“Get up. Take a shower.” Ted tells me, nudging my shoulder. I turn away from him, curling my legs up to my chest. “Eddie. Get. Up.” He shakes my arm again; I slap his arm away. 

“Get the fuck away from me.” I grumble. 

“You’re acting like a child. Get up, man.” He says, sighing loudly. I don’t answer him, and before I know it, he’s throwing me over his shoulder. I’m kicking and screaming all the way to the bathroom. I’m surprised he can carry me. Well, I’m sure I don’t weigh much. He plops me down in the shower and turns it on, the water bites my skin and I scream at him. 

“You’re a fucking asshole!” I scream at him, trying to get out, but the warm water against my skin feels good and I stop. 

“Clean yourself up. You’re starting to stink.” He tells me, throwing a washcloth at me. 

“I could fire your ass, you know.” I snap at him, standing under the stream, my hair soaking. “Are you gonna stand there and watch me like I’m a fucking mental patient? Get out of here.” 

“Fire me all you want, I’m not leaving.” He says, closing the shower curtain and I hear him sit on the lid of the toilet. 

“Stubborn prick.” I grumble, squirting shampoo onto my hand and putting it through my hair. I could feel how gross and greasy my hair was, it felt stiff. 

“I may be a stubborn prick, but you should feel lucky that I’m here.” 

“Yeah, so lucky.” I scoff. “Once we’re back on the road I will find a way to get high again.” 

“Okay, that’s your choice.” He sounds like he’s flipping through the magazine. 

“Yeah, it is my choice. This wasn’t.” I peak my head behind the curtain to glare at him. 

“You told me you needed a rest. Probably a good thing, wouldn’t want you worrying about little creatures crawling into your bed at night.” He says, meeting my eyes and smirking. 

“Oh, fuck you.” I close the curtain forcefully, washing my body until it was raw. I’m able to actually look at my arms. They were scabbed over; the bruises had a yellow tint to them. 

“Who’s the girl?” Ted asks me. 

“What?” I wipe the soap from my eyes. 

“The girl you’ve been moaning about in your sleep.” 

I pause. I feel my stomach clench and my heart ache, I let the shower rinse the shampoo from my hair. “No one.” I snap. 

“Doesn’t sound like no one.” He says, and I hear him light up a cigarette. 

I sigh. “Someone I knew, back in Hawkins.” 

“Girlfriend?” 

It takes me a minute to answer him. “More than that.” I mutter. 

“What happened?” 

“Jesus, Ted. I don’t want to talk about it.” I turn off the shower and open the curtain, squeezing the water out of my hair. “Hand me a towel.” 

“Say the magic words.” I hear the arrogance in his voice. 

“Hand me a fucking towel, please.” 

He pulls a towel off the hook and throws it at me. I dry myself off, wrapping the towel around my waist and I walk towards the adjoining bedroom. I toss on a long-sleeved t-shirt and pull on a pair of dark jeans. It was early spring, but up here, it still felt like winter. I throw on some thick socks and take my cigarettes off my dresser. The smell of bacon hits my nostrils and my stomach rumbles painfully. I really don’t remember when the last time I ate was. I walk to the kitchen, seeing Ted with a dish towel over his shoulder, and plates of bacon, sausage. He was making eggs now. 

There was coffee in the pot, I move past him to grab a mug and pour myself a cup. I poured half the sugar into the mug; I still felt shitty, but the shower had helped some. 

I sit down at the table, lighting up a cigarette, pulling my leg up to my chest. The Eagles played softly on the radio, and I close my eyes, inhaling on the cigarette. I jump when Ted places the plate in front of me and I glare at him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that too loud?” He asks me sarcastically. “Why don’t you stop glowering at me and eat the damn food.” 

I scoff, sipping my coffee and biting into my meal. The taste and aroma of the breakfast fills all my senses and I have to control myself from shoving all of it into my gullet. 

Fuck. 

I forgot he could cook. 

I mean, breakfast was easy to cook but he used to be a chef so, he puts his own twist on it. I was full once I was done, and Ted had given me two Motrin which I reluctantly took. The rest of the day went by surprisingly smoothly, I had written a few songs with the acoustic while Ted sat in the recliner chair, watching his dumb television show. 

I decided to fuck with him the following day, to pass the time. I had some coins in my pocket, his opened coke can was in the cup holder next to him. I put the coin in between my two fingers and lined it up just right, launching the coin right into the mouth of the can. It splashed a little on him and he glares at me. 

“Lucky shot.” 

I take another coin, and the same thing happens, I smile at him. He shakes the soda drippings off his hand. 

“Don’t fuck with me, kid.” He grumbles and I launch another coin into the can, and I laugh. He throws his shoe at me, and I laugh louder. I’m able to get a smirk out of him, and we go back to sharing the comfortable silence. 

Evening approaches, and he had made us some steaks on the grill. It was a warm night, so we sat out on the back porch, the fire pit going as we smoked cigarettes. I lean back in my seat, staring up at the stars. My body still hurt, but this was the first time in a long time I felt content. 

“The girl you heard me talking about was my first love.” I tell him quietly. “And my only love.” 

“What happened?” He asks me gently, inhaling on his cigarette. 

“I happened. Well, my stupidity happened.” I sigh, letting the smoke billow from my nostrils. “We grew up together, did everything together. Her dad had died when she was a baby, her mom was a drunk. My mom was dead, and my dad was in jail, so we only had each other. And Wayne. Wayne made sure we were taken care of the best he could. We got older, and we fell in love.” I stub out the cigarette in the ashtray and I light up another. “This was a fucking insane kind of love. A lot of passion, a lot of arguing, a lot of laughing. She drove me crazy, but not as much as I drove her crazy. When I started to realize how deep my feelings were for her, I got scared. So I left.”

“Why?” He asks me. 

“I ask myself that every day, man.” I chuckle. “Doesn’t matter now. She’s probably happily married with kids somewhere. And I’m here, detoxing from heroin in a cabin in the woods.” 

“She sounds like she was one hell of girl.” Ted says with a smile. 

“Yeah, she was.” I smile back at him. 

That was the first time in a long time I felt at ease with myself. That was also the first time in a long time Ted, and I had sat down with each other and just shared comfortable silence. 

Should’ve known that I was going to fuck that all up again. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* a/n: hi! I know it's short, but I'm just preparing you for the next couple of parts. Fair warning it's...well, you'll see. *insert evil laugh here* My son is having surgery on Thursday to get tubes in his ears so I will leave you with this, and maybe about a week for the next installment, maybe sooner. Who knows?! Again, I love you guys. <3

[ilovesjamesbb]

Please Don't Leave Me (Pt. 7)

Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Depression, suicide, depressing shit

“No. No no no no no no.” He grabbed my body pulling me out of the tub. He was struggling. What is happening? Our song, James. Our song is on. I feel sleepy. I feel good. All of a sudden there is a clatter and I feel something in my mouth. It's large and it makes its way down my throat. It's a terrible feeling. I feel myself starting to wake up. 

Bucky runs over to the tub pulling y/n out of the red water. The cuts aren't that deep but enough to bleed bad. He looks down and sees the pill bottle. He picks it up and it's empty. Fuck. 

What had she done? I left her alone. This is my fault. She needed me and I left her. I didn’t know what else to do but get those pills out. 

“You're not gonna like this, doll. I promise you will be okay. I’ll fix this.” I shove my fingers down her throat hoping to trigger her gag reflex. She’s barely conscious she's not really fighting back so I push further. 

“Come on. Come on!” Fuck this isn’t working. Right when I lost hope she started to gag and throw up. It's not enough. I keep my fingers down her throat. 

“There you go, doll. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” She vomits until there is nothing left. The bath water is starting to overflow and red water finds its way onto the floor. I grab her head and rock her back and forth. Crying. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I harshly wiped her hair out of her face. 

“Our song is on, James.” She smiles but never opens her eyes. Thank god.

“Yes doll our song is on.” I say sweetly but I can hear the sadness in my voice as it cracks. 

“I wish this was real, James. I wish this is how it could've been.” She hums sadly. She thinks this isn’t real?

“This IS real doll. I’m right here.” I cry. The floor covered in vomit and bloody water is something I'll never forget. I rip the towel off the wall and cover her in it. I need to call someone but I don’t want to leave her. 

“I love you. I never wanted you to hate me for trying to kill myself. I thought I was doing the right thing. All I could see in that moment was your reaction to watching the tape the scientists would send you and I didn’t want you to end up how I am now.” She whispers. Still clearly not with it. 

“I wish you were real right now. I wish we got to have the future I dreamt of.”

“Tell me about it, doll.” I said trying to keep it together.

“We would live in a white house with a red door. There would be a white fence and flowers on the front lawn. A huge willow tree in the back where maybe we could put a swing. The paperboy would drop off the paper every morning and I would make you coffee and bring it to you in bed. We would read the paper together. Our favorite song is playing on one of the many record players we have in the house. You would wake me up with a kiss every day. We would talk about what we wanted to name our future baby. We would get to have kids and they would grow up to love the music we like almost as much as they would love you…” She trailed off. God I wanted that too. 

“What else? Tell me more.” I urged her on. I wanted to make her regain full consciousness. 

“I’m tired James. I can see it, can't you? I see the dog running in the backyard. You always throw his ball too far…he can’t find it. I can’t find you… James, where are you…” I can feel her start to slip again. She was panicking. 

“Y/n. Y/n!” I yell, shaking her.

“JARVIS. Call Steve, call Tony, call someone!” I screamed. The fear in my voice evident. 

“They are coming, Sergeant Barnes. I alerted Dr. Cho as well.” I held her in my arms whispering sweet nothings into her hair. I couldn't lose her for a third time. 

[steddieunderdogfics]

I had recommended ‘Fics with Playlists’ through your Google form and I’m so glad that you picked it up. To all the Steddie writers who have made a playlist with their fic, please know that you add an immersive layer to your fic and I am grateful for it. I see your careful selection of songs that matches the characters and the mood of your fic. Thank you so much!

For Challenge Monday ‘Fics with Playlists,’ I would like to recommend:

Touched by Oonionchiver

This playlist has so many gems. Touched and Tokyo Night Train have been my absolute favorites.

I come back to the place you are by Pizzabones

There are 3 playlists since the fic features love through the mixtapes that Steve and Eddie make for each other. Steve’s pining mix is a terrific playlist of metal love songs.

Hush little baby (Beast under your bed) by Steviejeebies

The playlist enhances the dark stalker vibe of the fic. I was amazed that there are so many stalker songs!

Sleight of Hand by Smithereen

The Eddie coded songs of this fic Runaway and To your love are my favorites. Since the fic is alternating pov between Steve and Eddie, the playlist is another layer into their psyche.

Touched by Oonionchiver

@azrielgreen

Rating: E

396,977 words, 12/12 chapters

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Tags:

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood Kink, Transformation, Bonding, Angst, Friendship, Obsession, Falling In Love, But with a little dash of BODY HORROR thrown in for seasoning, Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington, Slow Burn, Denial, Daddy Kink, Intersex Steve Harrington, Eddie Helping Steve Commit Crimes, Steve Being Horribly Turned On By Said Crimes, Psychological Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Breeding Kink, Suicidal Ideation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Dom Eddie Munson, Sub Steve Harrington, Slutty Misunderstandings, Soul Bond, Mpreg, Giving New Meaning to "Found Family", The NON ESTABLISHED Omegaverse Fic, This Is Graphic and Intense, But Sweet and Romantic, Male Pregnancy, BITCH DO NOT ADD TO GOODREADS, Magical/Non-Human Steve, This Became the EPIC RETELL OF SEASON FOUR and I Regret Nothing, Get In Losers We're Doing What The Duffers Never Could

Summary:

'Thank you.’ Eddie lays his hand on the back of Steve’s exposed neck, right below his hairline. His skin is cool, it’s soothing. Something kind of unlocks in Steve’s middle. Like a bad bone cracking in half. Like a rotted dam giving way to the weight of the water.

______________________________________________________________

i come back to the place you are by pizzabones

@pizzzabones

Rating: E

211,598 words, 8/8 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags:

Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Coma, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Queer Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, Eddie Munson Lives, Hand waving vecna, Steve Harrington's Love Language is Gift Giving, Steve Harrington Character Study, Happy Ending, Ensemble Cast, Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Dual POV, Sharing a Bed, Frottage, Demisexual Steve Harrington, idiots to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Eddie Munson, Virgin Eddie Munson, Anal Sex, Demisexual Eddie Munson, Dirty Talk, the demi is less heavily implied with Eddie but it’s there so I’m including it, Unreliable Narrator, vers steddie

Summary:

Steve should've known that Eddie was lying when he looked right into Steve's eyes and promised not to try any heroic bullshit. He should've known based on their conversation in the upside down that Eddie felt he had something to prove. And he definitely shouldn't have left Eddie to face the horrors of the Upside Down alone. And now? Now Eddie's in a seemingly unending coma and Steve is wracked with guilt. So, he pours himself into trying to fix his mistake. He helps Uncle Wayne move into a new house, he spends hours in the hospital reading to Eddie, and he even keeps the Corroded Coffin boys company. He's getting to know Eddie really well while Eddie's out cold. or: Steve is surrounded by every single person who loves Eddie Munson. How could he not fall a little bit in love with him?

Thanks for the recs!

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[lokisprettygirl]

Lose me to Love you (Loki x Female Reader) (AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 12 here / Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Summary: Loki kissed you and now he can't stop kissing you. A life changing offer might comes your way.

Warning: Kissing, Extreme dark themes, Sexual abuse, physical abuse, public sex, Rough violent sex, 18+, Steamy stuff, age difference ,Rough language, mention of suicide, talk of virginity and slut shaming, manipulative behaviour, mention of trauma, smut, toxic relationship between main characters. Dark themes, cult stuff.

"I'm scared Lolo" your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked at him. You stood at the gates of the orphanage where you were supposed to live now, they said that momy died and she won't come back, you didn't want to believe them but lolo said the same thing and you always believed him.

"I know sweet buttons..but I'll come see you okay? You'll be safe here I promise" he was on his knees to match your height, he wanted to see you one last time before you go in there, they told him that he wasn't allowed to meet you or even talk to you from now on, not until you're an adult. Something about trauma bonding and how it could be damaging for both of you were their reasons but Steve promised him that he'll keep an eye on you and inform him if something goes wrong.

You hugged him tightly and he wiped his tears before you could see them.

"You promise you'll come see me?" You asked him, making his heart clench.

"I'll do my best sweetheart, I promise I'll do my best and you'll always have me..never forget" He said to you so you nodded. The warden lady took your hand and started to walk away, you didn't truly understand that feeling of walking away from him but now you knew it was your first heartbreak.

As he entered the apartment you looked at him, you were in the kitchen making dinner. Did he get your message? He must have, you didn't check to see if he read it or not, you felt so nervous after sending it, you just wanted him to come back and forget about everything that had happened in the past few days  because you really didn't want him to be upset with you or push you away more. You shouldn't have said those things to him either, you had no right.

"Dinner is almost ready" you mumbled as he walked into the kitchen, you could feel his eyes on you, he grabbed your arm and turned you towards him, your eyes teared up immediately.

"Why were you scared?" He asked you softly as his thumb brushed over your cheekbones while his forefingers caressed your nape.

"Just ..don't want to be alone..don't want to be without you Daddy" you could barely whisper as you felt your throat tightening, his eyes teared up too, you were eager to fall back into the toxicity you both shared before, you were willing to sacrifice your happiness for him and that's what pierced through his cold stone heart. He can't hurt you like that anymore, he never wanted to, he had done enough, he always fucked those women and shoved them in your face because you did the same to him, you always told him about your dates and how many times you got fucked to piss him off, now he knew that you were just trying to make him jealous and hurt him because he was hurting you. 

"Yeahh?" He whispered in a questioning manner, he placed his fingers of the other hand on your chin and made you look up at him then he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"Mmhmmm I'm sorry for what I said" 

"I am sorry too baby" your eyes flickered as he said that, he hardly ever apologized to you and whenever he did you knew he meant it truly, it wasn't just a senseless word for him to calm down the situation.

"It's okay..thank you for coming back..let's just..forget about the last few days okay?" He smiled but then he shook his head, leaving you all perplexed and wide eyed.

"I don't want to forget..I want to remember" he pressed his lips on yours and kissed you tenderly, making you gasp into his mouth, you weren't expecting that "Want to remember what happened between us so I can treat you better" your heart skipped several beats at once at the confession, you got on your tippy toes and flung your arm around his neck to kiss him passionately.

He lifted you up as he kissed you back he felt as if he was starving for a taste even though it hasn't even been twenty four hours since he had kissed you last. He put you down on the counter as his tongue slipped past your lips, you sucked on the tip of his tongue like a candy and you could feel your whole existence falling apart, his every little touch sent shivers down your spine and you wanted more, you wanted everything. The word obsessed couldn't suffice what you felt for him.

"Wow" you whispered as he pulled away for a moment, his lips traveled down from your jaw to the side of neck, he sucked on your skin softly while you sat there panting and breathing heavily like a sodden whore "Is this going to be a regular thing because I love it" you smiled as you pressed your face between the crook of his neck to inhale his intoxicating scent. Four years of torture and he finally had you on his mercy. 

He didn't know how long this feeling would last for you, it took Jolene a while to lose interest in him, not sexually but definitely romantically, the mirage was broken everytime he unveiled a layer of his past and the mystery that surrounded him. With you however at least he knew that you knew he had issues, you knew about his past, at least some of it and you still wanted this, it gave him hope.

The dinner burned because he didn't stop kissing you, he pulled away everytime he needed you two to breathe, but in the meantime his mouth traveled to other places and every touch of his lips made you drip more and more. 

"Ohhh goddd" you whispered as he wrapped your legs around his waist, you could feel his bulge rubbing between your legs and you wanted to hump against him like a slut who has been edged for years. 

"God doesn't exist sweetheart but you can chant my name instead" the deep rumbling voice came right from his chest, he could ruin you just by using that voice on you. He took you to the bedroom and laid you down and then he kissed you again, seconds turned into minutes and none of you wanted to stop but he didn't want to take you like this either. Not so soon, not so frivolously when you have kept yourself untouched just for him. He wanted to treat you so good but he didn't know how, he wasn't a gentle lover.

He tried it with Jolene and it felt good in the moment but as soon as his orgasm washed over him he felt extremely pathetic, he felt disgusted by himself, he felt weak, he could see his father asking his slaves to lash him for being such a frail boy, he felt their floggers ripping his flesh open ,burning his skin, and as soon those memories hit him he wanted her to hurt him so he could feel better, she obliged sometimes but other times his requests bothered her so much that she'd just get up and leave him to sleep in the other room, and as soon as she'd leave he'd cry himself to sleep because he felt so rotten from the core. 

He didn't want to ruin you like that because if he would then you'd leave him too and he didn't think he was strong enough to lose his sweet buttons.

"You're lost" you caressed his scalp with your fingers and he snapped back to reality, he propped himself on his elbows and laid on his side next to you so you turned towards him too.

"Just thinking about this" you smiled as he said that.

"What changed your mind?" you bit on your lips as you mumbled, your fingers played with the chest hair peeking out of his dark green t-shirt.

"That text you sent" 

"What about it?" 

"Just you willing to do that for me, I don't want to hurt you darling" he leaned down to kiss your forehead. He really didn't want to but he knew that he'd hurt you one way or another.

"I know " 

"But I will" 

"I know" you answered as you understood what he meant, he didn't just mean that in an emotional sense but sexual too.

"You don't know" 

"I do..but it doesn't matter..I'm yours to hurt" 

"Shhhh don't say that" he whispered as he kissed you again, a sick perverted part of him felt turned on by that statement, you wanting him to hurt you, asking him to mark you, blood rushed to his cock at the way you just wanted to serve yourself to him no matter what. You pulled on his hair slightly and he moaned in your mouth, you knew he liked hurting and being hurt during sex but you were not going to do that to him, not in the ways he was used to being hurt, he never talked to you about it but you knew he was abused as a child, physically, mentally and sexually. You knew that's how he developed this need to feel pleasure through extreme pain but you won't allow him to punish himself like that forever. 

"It's okay.. it's okay.. I promise it's okay..I'll take care of you, we will be okay. Youuu and meee for life. Right?" Yours eyes became moist and so did his as you said that.

"You and me for Life. I promise, I'll never let go, I'll never leave you" 

The next morning he woke you up with tender kisses, you bathed together and he fed you, then he kissed you again before he took you to the set, you couldn't focus on the work because your thoughts were interrupted by the man of your dreams who continued to give you "I want to kiss you right now" eyes, as soon as the director yelled cut and you got a few minutes of break he grabbed your hand and took you to a secluded corner of the set, in a second you found yourself pressed against the walls and trapped between his body. 

"I couldn't focus at all, I got yelled at by Nick" Nick was your director and he wasn't happy with you today.

"Mmmhmm want me to beat him up for you?" You moaned into his mouth as he said that.

"Noooo I think we should let him go since it's my fault " you chuckled so he pulled away and cupped your cheeks.

"Focus on the work darling, we can do this at home, it's just you and me there..be a good girl for me yeah?" 

"Yeahhh daddy" You kissed him feverishly and then you stopped because of this one thought that continued to bother you.

"Are you going to fuck other women still? Because Karina from the crew is waiting in line" Your eyes teared up as you questioned him, he did it before but at least you didn't know how it felt to have him suck onto yours lips this way, you didn't know how good he tasted or what a fine kisser he was, you have been jealous of women in his life for as long as you could remember so even just the thought of him still wanting to fuck someone else filled you with extreme contempt and sadness.

"Do you want me to?" He smirked as he questioned so you tried to unhook your legs but he grabbed them and kept you pinned against the wall "Just joking baby.. the only woman I'm going to touch from now on is you..only you..i promise..i know it won't be easy to trust me but you know I keep my promises" He really did and that's was the one thing he at least liked about himself.

"okayyy..I trust you" 

"Yeah????" 

"Mmmmmm" 

Then he kissed you again. And again. And again.

While you were working he received a call from that casting director that you auditioned for yesterday, he wanted to see you, alone. That never was a good sign, the audition was for a film and it's something you have always wanted to be a part of so he really wanted you to bag this. 

"Something wrong?" You asked him as you caressed his shoulder while he was driving you to the studio where you were meeting the casting guy Stephen.

"He wants to see you.. alone" he sighed as he answered. You knew what it meant, you have been here before. They wanted to see you alone when they wanted you to fuck them.

"Ohh" you felt sad but then you were so giddy with this new development in your personal life that you really didn't care about the professional one at the moment. As you reached the destination you took your seat belt off and climbed over his lap, taking him by surprise but he wasn't complaining

"It's okay..we will get other offers" you mumbled softly as you kissed the tip of his nose "Thank you for always keeping me safe and protected from them, I don't think I have ever told you how much I appreciate not being exploited by every perv out there" you whispered in his ear as your hands rubbed over his crotch.

How could you say something sweet like that and accompany it with such a naughty gesture? He moaned and you felt him hardening at your touch. His hand sneaked inside the shirt you were wearing and you gasped as he touched your bare skin.

"Want to thank me for real? Maybe someday you can show me how you use my briefs to get yourself off" 

"Daddddddy" you gasped at the sudden filth coming out of his mouth but you really wanted to bathe in the said filth.

"Isn't that what you did, hmm? Been thinking about it. Did you wear it while you touched your wet little cunt or you humped yourself against it sweetheart?"

"Ohhh fuckk..the second thing" you palmed his bulge and he let out a shaky breath.

"You're a desperate little slut aren't you? Always craving my attention..well you have it now baby..you have all of my attention on you" You cupped his cheeks to kiss him deeply and he responded with equal intensity but then he pulled away soon after, it still felt like a dream if you were being honest with yourself. "Mmmm we need to stop sweetheart, you have a meeting to attend" he reminded you why you both were there so you tried to calm yourself down, it was harder for him to calm down though. 

As you met the guy he asked to just see you so you looked at Loki and he nodded, you were auditioning for a side role anyways so It didn't really matter. As you went inside the room, there were three other people, one of them was Jane foster, you recognised her, she was a former A lister and was a big name in the industry now as a producer. You were surprised a little to see her, they immediately gave you a a few lines and asked you to enact it, 

"Ummm I'm sorry I'm a little confused..what is happening?" You asked Jane so she smiled at you.

"Y/n I think you are packing a lot of talent in there, I saw your tapes from yesterday and I'm very impressed, that's the script for the main lead, I'd like you to read a line or two for me if you don't mind" she smiled at the end of her sentence so you nodded. 

You felt nervous because you weren't prepared for this, you read the lines and they sent you right away, they said they'll call you in a day or two.

"What's special about her?" As you left, Stephen asked Jane so she smiled.

"I received an anonymous email yesterday and it intrigued me.. remember that psychopath from NYC..that major cult scandal like 12 years ago?" She asked him.

"Ohhh yeah didn't he escape a few days ago?" 

"Exactly..she's that girl from that cult, the last sacrifice thing..she's y/n y/l/n" Stephen's eyes widened in realization, you had changed your last name and that's why he wasn't able to recognise you before.

"The publicity we will get if we launch her is going to be insane.. especially with that psycho on the loose, we can reel in a lot of people by using her tragic past" She smiled at him and he agreed. They just wanted to use you for their own good.

As you came out Loki seemed a little worried, you were in there for a long time.

"What happened?" He asked you so you told him everything and he was surprised too, it's not that he didn't believe in your talent as an actress but he knew how things happened in Hollywood in this day and age, one either needed to sell their soul or have a strong connection to bag such a film, rarely people got big just on the basis of their talent. 

He took you out for dinner first, it felt like a date to you. Then he took you home but he couldn't stop thinking about this, your safety was his responsibility and he had to know if those people had your best interest in heart.

"Lost again" you mumbled in his ears as you climbed on his bed after showering, he smiled as your freshly showered wet half naked body laid on top of him, you just had a tank top on with a pair of booty shorts.

"I'm right here" he pushed your hair aside and grabbed your neck to flip you under him. 

"What if I get this movie? It's going to be a huge deal right?" You asked him, you felt nervous about the possibility, as much as you enjoyed acting you weren't sure if you really wanted to make it that big, considering your past and everything - you knew things will come out if you get famous and you knew he'd be dragged along with it too, that's the last thing you both needed in life, people's judgment.

"It will be..but that's what you want right?" He asked you so you nodded, you always convinced him that you wanted this in life, you wanted to be an actor, to work in films, to be famous and maybe you really did want that but now as he was on top of you, sucking on your lips ever so softly, you wondered if that was really what you craved or needed in life.

"Yeahhh" you lied to him because you didn't think you were supposed to talk about this yet when you two had just started this thing with each other. Besides, it's not as if you'll get the film for sure. 

"You must be tired sweetheart..get your sleep okay? Need a massage?" He asked you softly and your eyes teared up. Yeah you loved him so much it was unreal. 

"Yess pls daddy" you responded so he kissed your forehead before he got off the bed then he came back with hot oil, as soon as his hands rubbed your legs soothingly you couldn't stop yourself from falling asleep, unlike all those times before there was no manipulation involved this time, he truly just wanted to help you relax, and as your little snores reached his ears his eyes softened.

He turned the lights off to lay down next to you and held onto you tightly, he was terrified about everything - this relationship, your feelings about him, That bastard Odin running free in the world, everything made him wish that he was able to hide you two somewhere far away so you'd be safe with him but it wasn't possible. 

As his arms wrapped around you, your sleep got disrupted a little, you felt him pressing soft little kisses on your neck and it made you smile. This was probably the best day of your life, you didn't remember being this happy before.

"I love you my sweet sweet buttons" And the sweet whisper of the forgotten petname as well the love confession made your breath hitch in your chest. Truly the best day ever.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Taglist: if I am not able to tag you please check your settings

@annoyingsweetsstranger  ��@whylokiissocute   @loki-s-wife   @fraoid3   @siggytumbles   @crzyplantladyvibes   @stupidthoughtsinwriting   @vickie5446   @wheredafandomat   @mcufan72   @xxntiimulti   @loz-3   @dishahaldar @mcdesij @scram1326   @elthreetimes   @army24--7   @sinsandguilt   @holotacopeely   @huntress-artemiss   @blog-the-lilly   @ultraviolencexxss @disneyismyworldforever   @bunny24sstuff   @kats72   @somewiseguy   @asgardianprincess1050   @multifandom-world8   @loki-laufeyson-1054

[whataboutthefish]

About me

HI there, I’m Fishie!

If you have come here from my Stranger Things work, welcome.

I’m just finding my feet in this fandom, I fell for those wonderful gifs of Eddie and binged the show. I am now fully immersed and latched on with the obsession of a new hyper-fixation.

I’m a multishipper and enjoy and write any combination of Steddie, Harringrove and metal sandwich/harringroveson, Hellcheer, drumcheer, Stopper, Whopper, the list goes on!

I’m a fandom old, and I have no tolerance for any fandom hate, I’m proship and I also write dead dove content. I won’t stand for hate on any character or ship, regardless of my opinion of them.

I’ve been blessed since I joined this fandom with the amazing interactions I’ve had with people. I’ve met some amazing creators and the support from readers is so awesome.

I accept prompts and headcanons, I love interacting with people and bouncing ideas around.

I will write most things, if you’re unsure I’m happy to talk about it, I don’t kink shame. My favourite flavor of fic will always be Alpha/beta/omega dynamics, ageplay is a close second. I have no problem switching tops and bottoms.

My asks are always open if you want to chat!

Below are my tumblr ramblings about Omega Steve/Alpha Eddie

The drabble that started it all - Pen Pal Steddie A/b/o

The continuation Pen Pal Steddie a/b/o part 2

This is when I made myself and all of you sad talking about Omega Steve and his nest iykyk read with a tissue

Some angst fix it a/b/o Steddie plus Uncle Wayne

New Years Eve True mates first kiss

Unplanned pregnancy Single Mom Omega Steve

While you were sleeping, here on tumblr and also on ao3

A little thing about Alpha Eddie’s nest

Boarding school au - Omega/omega

Nesting angst - omega steve, pre steddie, religious trauma, neglect

whumpy a/b/o Steddie thoughts. Eddie lives, Steve has ptsd

Harringroveson ficlets

Metal sandwich (harringroveson) a/b/o ptsd

Ao3 - I’m what_about_the_fish on Ao3

one shots

We could plant a house, we could build a tree  -  Steddie, breeding kink

While you were sleeping - Steddie, omegaverse, mpreg

Finger Food - Steddie, double date, smoking weed, love

Find the Light -  Steddie, omegaverse, ptsd, nesting

Harrington’s Milk Bar - Steddie omegaverse, omega Eddie, prime alpha Steve, breast milk

If I should fall - Steddie, omegaverse, sex pollen

Show off - pre-steddie, Steve/unnamed female, voyeurism, exhibitionism

You can be my sugar, baby - Harringrove, omegaverse, alpha/alpha

Dear Mumma - Steddie, teen and up, mentions of suicide and mental health problems

I need to know - Hellcheer, voyeurism masturbation

Push and Pull - Eddie/Billy, D/s, sub Billy, Dom Eddie, bratting, pain play, discipline, punishment, aftercare

Take my hand, take my heart - Steddissy, A/B/O, Alpha Chrissy, Alpha Eddie, omega Steve, D/s, Dom Chrissy, speed dating, threesome

Everybody wants you - Harringrove - Song fic, rockstart Billy, Popstar Steve, Enemies to lovers

Alpha Darling - Steddie, A/B/O, D/s, Omega Steve, Alpha Eddie, Dom Steve, Sub Eddie, public play, topping from the bottom

multi chapter

Yeah, you made me feel    - Steddie, Omegaverse, Virgin Steve, hs au NOW COMPLETE

I’ve been in Chains - Steddie, omegaverse, sex slavery, rescue, healing, trauma

Sweet Drop - Stopper, omegaverse, traditional values, collared, spankings, domestic discipline

Sweet child of mine - Stopper, mpreg chapters related to Sweet Drop

One nest to rule them all - Collection of all my above threads in one place on Ao3

It’s a lonely world when everybody knows your name - Steddie Big bang A/B/O alpha Steve, omega Eddie, 90′s supermodel fasion au COMEPLETE

Made for you, Made for me - Billy/Hopper, A/B/O, omega Hopper, Alpha Billy, true mates, COMPLETE

And then you came - Harringrove Big Bang - D/s universe, Sub Billy, Dom Steve, daddy dom, Baby brat, slow burn, collars, D/s themes, kneeling, Dom voice  COMPLETE

ART?

One thing I love to do is horrible edits, I play with making gifs and video edits. I take great pleasure in abusing the small amount of skill I have and using it for evil.

Fire Elmo but make it Stranger Things

A Strange new dawn - Jim Hopper/Charlie Swan - the ship you never knew you needed, video edit

Don’t mess around with Jim - Hopper gifset

You might not like her - Chrissy’s Story video edit

Eddie Munson - Death by rock and roll video edit

More Serious Art

Back in the Saddle by @violetkaos - art for ST rare pair big bang - Steve/Eddie/Dmitri - cowboy au.

Take me away (A secret place) by @jordyn-undead art for ST  rare pair big bang - Steve/Dmitri - Steve is taken to Russia

This is where we part ways if you don’t enjoy content of the dead dove variety. I hope you’ve enjoyed you time here.

For those of you who do partake in a dove or two, below are links to my dead dove fics. All are clearly labeled and tagged.

Dead Dove

My arms will hold you, baby    - Hopper/Reader, Omorashi, piss kink

The Ultimate Sin - Steddie-spree, twincest, incest, omegaverse, camboy,

Monsters in my bed  - Steddie, extreme gore, non con, demon Eddie

This darkened street we travel - Steddie, serial killer Eddie, dark Steve, murder, fucking

Daddy’s Boys - Steve/Billy/Hopper - Little/caregiver au, little steve, little Billy, Daddy Hopper, sex... so much sex

Two of my favourite things - Steddie, ageplay, forced regression

Baby love, our baby love - Steddissy - age play, sexual age regression

Two of my Favourite things - Steddie, age play, forced regression, watersports, diapers

Daddy’s boys - Hopper/Steve/Billy - age play universe, sex aged up and down, extreme dead dove - read tags

Drink up - mungrove, omorashi, watersports, public play, dom drop, aftercare

[vwiolets]

★INTRO POST★ Call me the rizzmaster or feel my wrath!!!!! She/he/they ENG/DEU ESTP-T Youre now entering the goon zone !!!! Proceed with caution!!

* = How much I like it Major Fandoms ★ Hazbin Hotel*** ★ Homestuck* ★ Fear and Hunger* ★ Cult of the Lamb* ★ Helluva Boss* ★ Omori* ★ Vocaloid* Characters ★ Vox*** ★ Valentino** ★ Alastor*** ★ Eridan* Other things ★ Cars (u can woo me with ur fast car tbh)*** ★ 2000's shows* ★ Sleep deprived podcast* ★ Anything science related* ★ Sanrio** Music ★ MSI*** ★ 100 gecs** ★ ICP* ★ S3RL* ★ Mommy Long Legs* ★ Lemon Demon* ★ Soulja Boy* ★TV girl* ★ Ween* ★ Weezer* ★ David Bowie* ★ 6arleyhuman* ★ Rebzyyx* ★ Black Dresses* ★ The Flaming Lips* ★ That Handsome Devil** ★ Gezebelle Gaburgably* DNIS are for pussies, idgaf if u a freak, wtv lolz im a veryy cool person pls dm me i will actually love you forever and ever i prommy :3 PLEASE I AM COOL!!!!!! ASK ME ANY QUESTIONS! My pumpkin muffin <33333333 @sage-finite My sweet little bean <33333 @farizalikessparky

[lovestuckyhatemarvel]

I took a day or so off because of life factors and now it’s a rainy Saturday and I’m gonna at least watch a few episodes and give some reactions to random stuff as well as note things I forgot or didn’t notice before. I at some point will stop doing an intro since I don’t think anyone is reading these consistently.

1.) I forgot El really just starts this episode back at the last time we saw her in episode 1, like almost a full year before season 2 starts.

2.) honestly I’d forgotten this sequence in general of her reaching through the placenta hole in the wall and then making it bigger.

3) I especially forgot that Mike kind of saw her through the window while agents are trying to get him to talk and he just keeps staring at the window like a dipshit

4.) I love this comically large tree that El can hide under that no one checks.

5.) Jonathan still does scrambled eggs and toast as a speciality

6.) Erica exists now

7.) the montage of the costumes us so cute

8.) Mike being a little bit racist

9.) I forgot literally no one else dressed up

10.) hopper is still very sweet and patient about Will when talking to Joyce

11.) I don’t care about these guys in the lab even though I probably should care about them fixing a power issue

12.) I fully understand where Nancy is coming from and I hate that at this point the Hollands are wasting their time and money and are tearing themselves looking for Barb when she will never come home. That being said, Steve isn’t wrong here. There is a shadowy agency that literally killed a man and covered it up as a suicide and covered up Will’s disappearance with a fake body that resulted in a funeral. They could really put themselves and others in danger. And something not fully discussed in this scene is: literally what would they even say? “hey, long story short, your daughter was killed by a creature from another dimension and her body is still there but you can’t talk to anyone about it or get her back or anything. Anyway, thanks for the McDonald’s.” Like that would be worse and they probably would not believe it anyway.

13.) Steve doesn’t even say forget forever, he asked to pretend to be normal on Halloween for one night

14.) I adore Max and if I’d known her in middle school, I’d desperately want to be her friend

15.) ok but how did el go from not knowing what half of food is to knowing how to skin and cook a squirrel? Like who taught her to do that? Her skill level varies wildly

16.) Billy is the fucking woooooooooooooorst and if he hadn’t died in season 3, it would have been something I did on my own in fanfic. People wanting to save him is crazy to me. He literally ran a bunch of kids off the road with his speeding car as one of the first things in the show!!!

17.) Jonathan not seeing what his mom likes bob is kind of hilarious to me because there’s a non insignificant chance that’s what he’s like when he’s 40

18.) still love Jonathan and will being adorable bros

19.) why is Billy so greasy???? Did he lather in baby oil before doing a keg stand???

20.) It was Nancy’s idea to go to this stupid party in the first place but now that she’s going with Steve instead of Jonathan, its a chore. Like ma’am you could have stayed home or insisted on doing some other normal thing. And by you, I mean the Duffers could have made up their minds

21.) bob and Joyce dancing in the living room is so cute

22.) every time max appears on screen I grin and whisper, ‘that’s my girl’, especially when she jump scares boys

23.) hop broke a promiseeeee but also that small child was only out there for hopper to buy candy off of

24.) max lives on Old Cherry Road

25.) Mike hating Max for no damn reason is so annoying

26.) jump scared right into the upside down

27.) Jonathan shows up to the party. Forgot that happened.

28.) all Steve was trying to do was stop Nancy from giving herself alcohol poisoning and he did apologize. But then she shatters his heart.

29.) Steve did leave her at the party which sucks but idk how I would be able to do anything else if someone called me a killer and said our love was bullshit

30.) I forgot El visits Mike through the void

31.) oh hi demodog. I remembered you were found in a trash can but not that you technically show up in episode 2, although not like seen by the audience

[steviewashere]

My Scars are Hiding (My Branches Don't Show)

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Suicidal Thoughts, Depression From a Young Age, Depression Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Depressed Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington's Mother is a Sweetheart, Steve's Mom is Depressed, Eddie Munson Has Depression (Implied/Referenced), Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Cuddling & Snuggling, They Love Each Other, Eddie Munson Comforts Steve Harrington This isn't great, fuck it isn't even good—just not how I usually write. But also, I've been feeling like muddled dog shit and this is the only way I can think to just get it out. So, yeah. It's probably not even all that complete, but it's something. Title is from "Take Me Down Easy" by James Henry Jr.

🫂—————🫂 Still laying in bed. Making marks in the ceiling. Wasting time.

There’s quiet. A gentle rush of wind against his bedroom window. Distant ticks of a grandfather clock he keeps forgetting to dust, a dog barking at something down the driveway, some rustles he can’t quite place. Low hums from the refrigerator. Just easy noise, easier than he’s used to.

His chest weighs. Concave between his pecs, digging in as if something has set itself where it doesn’t belong. Heavy. Too heavy. He takes a breath, but fizzles out with it—nostrils wheezing and mouth dry and his chest just…aching.

When he was little, he’d have days like this. Eight years old and laying down, lost in his bedsheets, eyes melting into his cheekbones, and his stomach hungry for anything. Sometimes, his mom would come in and brush the hair off his forehead, ask him sweet things—“Do you want Mommy to make you a grilled cheese? How about I take you out for some ice cream, huh?”—and those little moments were strange. He’d stare up at her from deep within his own pillowcase. There’d be something in her eyes. Something he couldn’t place then, but thinking of it now, it’s clear she was recognizing a sour part of herself; this sour part of herself now inherited in her only child. She was trying and that was something in its own right.

She hasn’t been home in a while. Off on another trip with his dad, the untrustworthy bastard. Trying to mend her marriage, calm her brain, keep her wit. They talk on the phone; hours long conversations—racking up that bill—passing love you like cold mashed potatoes. Still edible, still digestible, still nourishing even in the blandest way.

The last in-person conversation they had was about shit like this. This day, this feeling. They were sitting across from each other in the living room—him in the recliner, her on the middle cushion of the sofa. Glasses of iced tea on coasters. Television on just to make background noise. She asked him how he was doing. And for once, he didn’t lie. Looked at her. Desperate and honest and aching. He admitted it, this feeling.

And admitted, too, “I’ve been thinking of…what if I…Mom, what if I want to die?”

Silence stretched, much like it does now. The grandfather clock ticking and the gentle rush of wind and the dog and the refrigerator. And then she cried. Scooted closer, opened her arms, held him, and cried. “We’ll fix it. Let’s fix this. Okay, honey? Can’t lose you, you’re my baby.”

He wants her to fix it. Fix this pulsing, aching mass inside his chest—so thick and viscous and bloody. Heavy inside him, working its way through his throat, ready to burble out of his mouth.

Steve takes a breath, quietly gasps with it, but doesn’t move from the mattress.

He was supposed to be up a few minutes ago, already dressed, out the door. Going to Eddie’s home to pick him up. A date.

And yet. Jesus, here he is.

Here he is, melding into his mattress, mouth burbling and chest heaving. What if I want to die?

Time must pass, as it does when he’s like this, and within the distant quiet noises, his bedroom pushes open with subtle squeaks. He peers over and immediately cringes, guilt pooling under that pulsing mass—a blood puddle underneath this rawness. “Eddie,” he murmurs, voice crackling awful like a house on fire, “what’re you doin’ here?”

Eddie stands in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed deep on his face, arms at his sides, fidgeting with the chain on his wallet. “You didn’t…thought we had a date?”

He nods into his pillow. “I know,” Steve whispers, “was about to get up and get ready, promise.”

“You sure?”

Steve swallows rocks. Am I? He blinks and breathes and gasps—quiet still, but treacherous. “Yeah…yeah, Eds. Promise, okay? Just…just need a couple minutes.” His body is still stiff and his whole self aches something fierce, deep in his bones, under the fibers of his muscle. Fuck, can I—

“Did you sleep okay, Steve? You look…you look tired, sweetheart.”

A chuckle escapes him, humorless and awful. “Guess you could say that. Think I just need a few minutes and then I’ll get up.” He blinks at the doorway, Eddie’s timid figure. “You can come in, baby. I promise we’ll go.”

Bed-bound and waxy, Steve remains. This fixture in his bedroom, the way he will be, the place he’ll exist. And in this slimy bubble of self-loathing, of sacrilegious hatred, of suicidal despondency—Eddie encroaches. He settles himself on the edge of Steve’s mattress, barely close, hardly moving. But the bed dips and so he looks on.

Eddie’s face set with…concern and half-recognition. Something balmy in his eyes and his fingers ever tender as they reach across the comforter to trace the parts of Steve’s face that exist as nothing—no emotion, no explanation, just exhaustion. Some grief. He’s breathing slow and steady, easy in comparison to those gasping convulsions Steve keeps doing; a reminder of sorts to keep on because he forgets to do, to be.

He swallows as Eddie’s touch gets heavier. Mouth humid, grotesquely fuzzy, and gamey. The way it is when he hasn’t brushed his teeth in a few days, which is the case—the unfortunate case if they want to get any closer. His scalp tight and heavy from the weight of his unwashed, stringy hair. Malaise jagged in his stomach. There’s a film to him and despite it, Eddie still soothes him with the tips of his fingers.

And soon his palm, as it cups the left side of his face. Thumb running diagonal, then horizontal, then diagonal again in slow smears; as if attempting to work away the imperfections from a clay sculpture.

“Steve?”

He tries a hum, but it’s more of a croak.

“How are you feeling today? Be honest, baby.”

More rocks down his raw esophagus. “Dunno what words to use,” he says, “kinda like I’m not…” His eyes dart over Eddie’s soft, freckled, patient face. Dipping into the dark depths of his irises. Part of his mom is starting right back. “I’m not much of a person, Eds,” he finally murmurs—the words acidic and vile and staining black on his tongue, these horrid things to string together, and yet they come out calm as ever. Nonchalant as they’ve been for more than a decade, even when the words didn’t exist yet, and even when he was tired of defining them.

“Like you’re incomplete?” Eddie asks quietly.

Those careful words, spread across the mattress, cozied against Steve’s muddled brain. Ones that make sense in such a vastness of nonsense.

“Yeah,” he whispers and nods, “kinda like that.”

Eddie drags his palm away, smoothing it over Steve’s chest in the process—over his heart and his saturated lungs. Looking on at the wall across from him, eyes bouncing over the pattern, finding something. Then, when he grasps it, he stares back at Steve. With softness. With care. “These are always the worst days,” Eddie says, “they always just make me not wanna move. Not wanna care. Like, one time, I stayed in bed for a whole week! Wayne thought I was sick—which I guess I was—dude kept bringing me bowls of Campbell’s. The soup didn’t make me entirely better, but it was nice that he was trying.”

Steve settles his head deeper into the pillow, not quite moving closer, but something like. “You…you know what this is like?” Wordlessly, Eddie just nods at him. Still calculating Steve, though, carefully checking invisible boundaries. He sighs like an elderly dog. Quietly, “I’m glad you have Wayne.”

A wistful little smile. Dimples just making themselves known. “He’s great,” Eddie murmurs, “but I also know what it’s like to be alone through this. And…and, if you’ll let me, I’d like to try and keep you company, that okay?”

“But what about our date?”

“We can have our date here, no biggie. I’ll order in some pizza and we can hang out. If you aren’t able to bring your all, then I can bring my all to you. Figure out what works, get you feeling a bit better.”

In the face of Eddie’s optimism, it’s hard to say no.

It’s also hard to get the rest of him to spew. All the other swirling thoughts, ones he admitted to his mom, they won’t bubble like the rest of him. And maybe Eddie knows them, too. Maybe he understands that desire, those abyssal thoughts that seem to just swallow rather than swarm. Dragging him deeper into the cave of this murk that is him today—and yesterday, and the days before that one, too.

It’s hard to be a person. To just be anything. But if Eddie’s willing to just stay here, then—

“Are you okay with just sleeping, Eds?”

“Baby boy, I am the master of cuddling. You wanna sleep, then we sleep. If you wanted to go fucking ice skating right now, I’d take you. Seriously, sweetheart, I go with who you are and what you can do.” Blearily, Steve registers Eddie worming the sneakers off his feet—unlaced and so Eddie it makes him ache with something softer, sweeter, almost a cavity. Eddie grunts with the last tug of one of his sneakers. “So,” he breathes, “sleep? Big or little spoon?”

And he watches with a low lick of fondness in his chest as Eddie carefully slides himself onto the bed, right up next to Steve. Earnestly shining—glowing—at Steve like the sun shines out his ass, even like this. It’s not enough to mend him. Satiate the thoughts and the fog and the slime and the pulsing raw sphere inside him, but it’s certainly soothing him. Enough that he scoots over a little more, making more space between them.

Just so he can turn over on is side, his pale face and slick hair and sickly everything pointed at Eddie. “Little spoon, please,” he murmurs. Without much else to say—not that there are words to give, nothing to really say in the face of all of him today—Eddie is bringing him in. Encompassing him in his warmth, arms tight to his torso, snuggling his head into the rise and fall of his slimmer chest. His nose buried between scars and half-tattoos. Welcomed into Irish Spring soap and cheap cologne. Musk and sweetness. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have our real date, Eds,” he whispers into the hollow of his throat.

“Nonsense,” Eddie says back at the same volume, “this is real enough for me, sweetheart. Just you—no matter how much of you—right next to me is enough.”

“Okay,” he mutters, cozying in closer.

The wind gently rustles against the window and the grandfather clock ticks, a distant dog and other misplaced noises. And then, unexpectedly, the light smack of lips against his forehead—sticky and warm and pressing. “Okay,” Eddie whispers, “okay, baby boy.” Hands still on his back, firm in their hold, legs entangled with his, lips stuck to his temple.

Breaths, mingling air that settles—steady and warm and regular.

He sleeps.

🫂—————🫂

[luveline]

Request idea!! Steve or Eddie w a girlfriend who gets chronic migraines??? Both of them would be so sweet and doting and soft with their girl!! Rubbing her head and comforting her through throwing up due to the pain

thank u for your request! TW for suicidal ideation and throwing up

Migraine doesn't feel like a strong enough word, in Steve's humble opinion, to describe what it is you're going through. Legs crossed in the bed you've barely left for three days, bent over at the waist, your hands pressed to your cheeks and your eyes swollen from all the crying. 

You don't like to be touched during a migraine so Steve has to compromise, sitting on the floor next to the bed with his hand up on the mattress, fingers wrapped around the ankle of your pajama pants. 

"You're seizing up," he says carefully. "Try and take a big breath." 

You oblige him, shuddering. He can hear the telltale hitch in your breath before you throw up, climbing up on his knees to move the bucket back into your lap. You don't have much to throw up, a few mouthfuls of oatmeal you'd only managed because he begged you to. 

The pain as you throw up is white hot, he knows, your hand searching for his and squeezing until he has pins and needles, so hot it keeps you basically silent until you're done. When you are you sob, breathless and tired and, worst, defeated. 

Steve knocks away the part of him that's always so paralysed by your pain and instead becomes the person you both need him to be. He leaves for the bathroom and empties your sick bowl, cleans it out, grabs your toothbrush and toothpaste and a glass of water. 

"Here," he says when he returns. "Have a drink." 

You're still sobbing. It takes a lot for him to persevere without stopping to rub your back. His hands shake minutely as he squeezes toothpaste onto your brush. You've thrown up so much it scares him, but there's not much to be done besides countermeasures – keeping you hydrated, taking care of your poor mouth, anything to keep you going until the pain abates. 

You drink your water and tears rush down your face in fat drops. 

"Stevie," you say after a small sip, "I can't do this." 

"You can." 

"I just wanna die." 

"I know. Here," he says, handing you your toothbrush. "Spit in the bucket. I'm gonna go get another ice pack, okay? A minute, tops." 

He feels evil for leaving you, fast down the stairs to the freezer for the ice pack, wrapping it up in a soft hand towel. Your words repeat in his head. I just wanna die. I just wanna die. 

"Out of ten, baby, how bad is it?" he asks at the door, risk assessing. Wondering if you need to go to the ER. 

"Nine." 

He chews his cheek and sits at your legs, offering you the cold compress. You take it and press it to your head. He wipes his hand down your cheek softly, clearing up the smudge of your tears. 

"Do you want me to take you to the ER? Because I will. If you need to go, we'll go," he says, trying to keep his voice calm. Steady. 

"There's nothing they can do," you whisper. 

"I know," Steve whispers back. Though maybe they could be persuaded to let you take some oramorph. Or ketamine. 

"There's nothing they can do," you repeat. 

Steve moves the bucket off of the bed and sits beside you tentatively. You place your hand at the crook of his elbow and follow down, your palms clammy, boiling hot as they slide down to his wrists and then his thigh. 

"I'm sorry for saying that," you murmur. "You don't have to worry." 

"When you last had painkillers, do you remember which ones they were?" he asks. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Baby." Steve covers your hand with his. "Come on. Don't be sorry. You're in a lot of pain right now. I'm not gonna hold you to anything you say, alright? And," his voice drops to an almost indecipherable volume, "if you want to? I don't blame you, but it would, like, jackhammer my heart into crumbs." 

You sniffle. 

"You're okay," he says. 

"Yeah." 

"How's it feel now?" 

"Like an eight." 

"That's better. Try and keep breathing slow." 

You spend long minutes calming down. Eventually you lie down. Steve moves your pillow and blanket yo get you comfortable and turns on the desk fan to soothe your sweaty skin. 

"Will you come lie down with me?" you ask weakly. 

"Been waiting all day for that question," he says, smiling wide. 

You moan to yourself as he cuddles in close but cautious, turned on his side, his arm thrown over your abdomen. "Is this okay?" he asks. 

"Yeh." You turn your neck slowly. "I know I'm gross right now…" 

"You're not," he says adamantly. 

"Liar." 

"I'm not lying!" He looks over your face affectionately. You're not gross, he's done a good job of taking care of you, if he might say so himself. "You want something. A kiss?" Then, at your guilty smile. "You want a kiss, babydoll? C'mere, I'll give you all the kisses you want." 

He follows up his softest tone with softer kisses, planting pecks like budding flowers over your lips and cheeks. You smile despite the crease between your brows indicating what has to be intolerable pain. 

"Love you," he says, an inch from your lips. "You're doing so well." 

You raise a hand to his hair and pull your fingers through it. He shivers. 

"Love you, too," you say. 

He almost hiccups with affection for you, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips before dropping back down. 

"Try and get some rest, yeah? Let's sleep," he says, pleading. 

You nod, looking halfway there already. You won't manage long, an hour or two before the painkillers fade completely, but anything will help. Even in your tired, pained state, you still search for his hand like you do every night, still stroke your thumb over his knuckles until you're both sleeping soundly.

[prettybabybaby]

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: DUBCON, THREATS OF SUICIDE, toxic relationship, possessive!steve, fem!reader, manipulation, coercion, unprotected sex, forced (?) breeding

¡ stranger things masterlist !

"Break up?" Steve said incredulously. "What do you mean 'break up'?" He runs his hands through his hair, shaking his head slightly, "no, you can't leave. We're not breaking up."

What has gotten into you? You've gone insane, surely. There was no way you'd get away from him. He felt anger and frustration at the way you stood near the door. Your hair was nicely done and your clothes were ironed. He could smell your sweet perfume and see your lucky socks poking out from your favorite shoes. You're trying to build confidence. You're still weak.

"I-" you paused, looking away from him, "I can't do this anymore, Steve."

"Why not? You promised. You remember that, don't you? You said we'd be together forever and what, now you're leaving me because of some stupid mistake?" The thought of you slipping through his fingers made his skin itch.

"It wasn't a mistake!" Your lips wobbled, "You're insane, Steve! You're making shit up, twisting reality. I can't do it anymore." You look dejected, tired.

Steve scoffed, "making shit up?"

Your piece of shit coworker has a crush on you, it's clear as day. He meddles in your relationship, planting false ideations into your head. He's a little too possessive, he tells you, that can't be healthy. Who is he to speak? He doesn't know you or Steve and he sure as hell doesn't know anything about your relationship.

"Steve," you plead, "he's my friend. He's just a friend looking out for me."

"So you agree with him? You're ridiculous. He got was coming to him." Steve's expressionless, staring at your look of disbelief. He can see the wheels in your head spinning, trying to figure him out.

"You've lost it," you breathe. "I'm sorry, Steve, but I really can't do this anymore." You turned to leave.

Slipping, slipping, slipping.

Your fingers only brushed the door handle when he spoke again, panic laced in his voice, "baby, please, I can't live without you."

You stopped and he could hear your breath hitch. "I'd rather die than live without you." It's a sensitive topic, he knows that but what else was he to do? You've left him with no other choice. You're silent for a few seconds, "what would I do without you?"

"Stevie, please don't say that," your voice is small, weak, and broken.

"I will if you leave me. You don't want me to hurt myself, do you?"

Your back moves as you sob, head falling forward, "no."

Steve feels a sense of satisfaction. Your hand dropped from the handle and moved to cover your face as you cried. He stood and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your shaking body, "s'okay, baby, I'm safe as long as you're with me. We can get through this."

You nod, finally meeting his eyes. Your eyes are lined with smudged makeup, red and glassy from crying. He leans in to kiss you, happy when you melt into his touch, eagerly kissing him back. Your tears slide into the cracks of your lips and the salty taste makes him sigh.

Steve picks you up, carries you to your shared bed, and gently climbs over you. Your skin is soft under his fingers as he feels up every crevice of your body, focusing on the places you liked most. How could he be a bad boyfriend if he had every part of you committed to memory? You're the only thing on his mind, day and night.

He sucks your thighs, leaving marks as he gets closer and closer to your little cunt. You whimper when he takes your clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue and diving into your folds. He pulls away once he's satisfied, savoring the taste of your - his - pretty pussy.

His cock aligns with your clenching hole that aches to be filled. He sinks in with a shaky breath, slowly thrusting into your dripping heat. He'll never tire of the look of pleasure on your face as you squirm under him, tears still leaking from your eyes and mouth slightly ajar, whining and whimpering.

He can't believe he almost lost you. It could never happen again. It would never happen again. "I told you we'd be together forever," his voice is raspy as he reaches to cradle your face, passionately kissing your puckering lips. "I love you so much."

You'll be his forever once he fucks his cum into your womb, breeding you, tying you to him. A symbol of your love in the form of a growing entity. A piece of him tethered to you.

"M'gonna cum inside you," he groaned. The head of his cock kisses your cervix as he thrusts harder.

The look on your face shifted from pleasure to pain and he found himself just as entranced by the hurt so evident in your eyes where he could see the light flickering almost like you were succumbing to your fate. He knew you wouldn't resist with the threat of his life hanging above your head.

You may not want it now, but you will. Eventually, you'll see and feel what he does. You don't need anybody else.

[eddiebillysteve]

cat and mouse

(( harringroveson prison au )) chapter fourteen | find it on ao3 HERE

a/n | planning on uploading a chapter every saturday from here on out !! also don't forget to check out @leticheecopae's sister fic pit of vipers bcus it is SO good and connects so much to mine (and will even more as it progresses!) thank you for reading!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and comments!! :') aLSO would love to give a shoutout to my first ko-fi supporter because?? i could barely believe it!!! so a massive thank you to ada <333

warnings | anti-religion comments? if that's what it'd be called?, daddy kink, dom/sub themes, punishments, possessiveness, murder/suicide, drugs/failed overdose mention, steve being a gay panicked confused mess (this is a permanent tag), he's also being trained with candies and i'm not sorry about it, general prison talk, stuff like that !!

tag list | @whoringrove @darkandstormyslash @devotionsofmaryoliver @nowhereinthedenn @cherixsays - let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future updates or removed from the list !!

moodboard by @a-redharlequin !!

Breakfast hour was weird without Billy, even when they knew he was safe in his cell. Their table didn’t feel complete without him sitting at the head between Steve and Argyle. The empty spot haunted the four boys who were left, reminding them of Creel and his power and how he could so easily tear any of them apart. 

Still, they made the most of it. Since Jonathan returned from being on watch, he and Steve chatted about anything and everything to fill the silence. Eddie told stories too, sometimes, but he was much more interested in listening to his baby’s sweet voice talking about Three’s Company or Duran Duran.

“How’s being nineteen?” Jonathan asked the morning after Steve’s birthday, taking a little spoonful of cereal. 

“The same as being eighteen,” Steve joked. “Just really weird to know it was spent in here. My best birthday yet, don’t get me wrong, but–”

His voice came to a quick stop when someone was sitting beside him, sitting in Billy’s seat.

“Woah, brochacho,” Argyle immediately said, still somehow managing to sound relaxed, but Steve knew better. “Taken. Sit somewhere else.”

“Shit.”

Steve looked over at Eddie when the word stumbled out of his Papa’s mouth. They were staring at each other, Eddie and the blonde man that had sat down beside him, and the nervous look on Eds’ face made Steve nervous in turn. Really nervous.

“Your little boyfriend really thought he could get rid of me, Munson? He thinks I’m that big a threat, huh?” The blonde boy, who didn’t even look Argyle’s way, leaned in closer, almost over Steve to murmur his words to Eddie. “I know that little stunt was all him, so you can tell him you will pay for his mistake tonight.”

Carver was supposed to be dead, Eddie knew that much. He was on Creel’s side whether he considered himself to be or not, had used Eddie without Billy’s permission, and had to pay for his sins. He wasn’t supposed to have survived; Hagan had been told to subdue him and force enough product down his throat to have him overdose. Billy had told Eddie while in the infirmary, and Eddie had passed the message along to Argyle, who would vouch for him, at least.

The one that was really in trouble was Tommy for not doing exactly as he was told. Eddie, too, but because of how angry Jason was. He was desperate for revenge, nearly frothing at the mouth for it. Anyone within ten feet of him could see how he was refraining from throwing Eddie to the floor to start wailing on him.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life,” Jason hissed, and Steve leaned backward to try to put some space between him and the words. “You need to learn the word of the Lord, Munson. Maybe then you’ll understand why I’m not going anywhere. God only punishes sinners.”

“And you’re not a sinner? Aren’t you in here for beating the shit out of your girlfriend?” Eddie snorted and Jason standing up in two seconds.

Steve didn’t know what he was thinking, but he was up at the same time, standing between the two of them to block Jason from being able to reach for Eddie. It just happened, the same as if someone were to try to bully Dustin in front of him. His body reacted, went into protective mode. “Relax, man. I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up, leaning back a bit to take Steve in. “Jesus, no one told me you’re getting fucked by two daddies now, Munson. Hargrove not good enough for you anymore? Just how loose have you gotten while I’ve been gone?”

“Right, nope. This isn’t happening,” Eddie stood up, shaking his head and waving his arms around. “Shut the fuck up, Carver. Think all those drugs you do have melted your brain. Didn’t know God let crackheads into Heaven these days.”

“Eddie,” Steve whispered, wanting him to calm down. He’d be in trouble if he got into a fight – not just with the guards but with Billy, too. “Everyone just… calm down. This is crazy.”

“You would both be quite wise to listen to him. This is a cafeteria, afterall, not a jungle. As feral as some of you may be, you are not animals. Sit and eat, or get to work.”

Every head in the room turned to look at the source of the too-calm voice that broke through the tension. Creel could silence a room just by walking into it, let alone speaking. Even the biggest, most muscular murderers were frightened of him. 

“I will not repeat myself,” He said when no one moved, tilting his head the tiniest bit. Eddie immediately sat, grabbing Steve’s wrist to yank him down, too, and even Jason sat back down in Billy’s seat.

Creel had been the one to transfer him. He’d hand chosen him, had surveyed the prison up north for someone big enough – and potentially crazy enough – to give Billy a run for his money and to be a distraction of sorts. He’d told Jason what his job was, and what the consequences would be if he failed to do as he was told.

But even Jason wanted nothing to do with him.

“32566, it’s been too long,” Creel stepped forward, closer to their table, and Eddie’s grip tightened on Steve’s wrist where it was hidden from view. “Who’s your friend?”

Eddie couldn’t breathe. He’d succeeded in keeping Steve invisible until now, but his attempts had been futile. All because of Jason fucking Carver. 

“Harrington,” Steve answered when Eddie didn’t speak, glancing nervously at his Papa.

“I don’t believe I was speaking to you, was I?” The guard’s voice was polite, but his eyes were so dark that they’d join the list of things haunting Steve’s nightmares. “32566, his number?”

“I don’t know it,” Eddie muttered, dropping his eyes from Creel to his tray.

“You don’t know it,” Creel sighed like he was disappointed. “Then we’ll just have to find out together, won’t we? Come along.”

This time it was Steve’s hand that was shifting to secretly grab onto Eddie’s wrist beneath the table, a feeble attempt to keep him from moving. After another breath, though, Eds moved to stand again. 

“Not you, 32566.”

Eddie paused mid stance, almost frozen in place. He couldn’t take Steve, he was too delicate. He wouldn’t last two seconds alone with Creel. “I’ve got it. I can grab it. It’ll take me two seconds,” Eddie tried, daring himself to glance up and meet Creel’s eyes. 

“Sit back down. I’ve finished speaking to you. Your friend may stand.”

He had never felt so helpless before. Steve standing beside him and not being able to stop him or do anything about it was a special kind of torture. The only thing he could do was watch as Steve followed Creel towards the cafeteria’s doors, sparing one frightened glance back to his Papa on the way.

Jonathan had gotten up and slipped out of the room the second Creel had made himself known, though. He’d run straight to get Billy, who was waiting outside the cafeteria doors for them, jaw clenched and steely eyed. 

“Well, hello, 62097. I didn’t realize you were off of bed rest yet,” Creel stopped moving to stand in front of Billy, hands moving to fold in front of himself just like always. “I thought you were relieved from work duty until Monday morning.”

“That’s right,” Billy didn’t look at Steve, didn’t even acknowledge that he was there. “Just came to get a cup of coffee and heard you needed a number. Thought I’d save you the trip. 82894.”

Creel’s eyes narrowed.

“His number, Officer Creel. It’s 82894. Now there’s no reason for him to have a delayed start. I can only imagine how behind the laundry unit is without me there to keep everyone in line.” Billy's insides contorted in the same way they used to when he had to face his father while knowing he’d pay for it later, but he’d rather it be him than Steve or Eddie any day; Steve, in particular, would be crushed under a mere few words.

“How very helpful of you, 62097,” Creel replied; his voice was tight, irritated, and he pulled his hands apart long enough to gesture back towards the cafeteria. “You’re dismissed, 82894. You may leave.”

Steve gave Billy a look of pure gratitude before practically running back to Eddie. It felt like he’d been saved from a volcanic eruption – Billy had jumped in front of a bullet for him and would do it again without a second of hesitation.

Billy hadn’t met his eyes, though; he still didn’t acknowledge Steve, not even when he was scampering off. His blue eyes were stuck on Creel’s, the two of them refusing to look away from the other and be the first one to break.

“I shall walk you back to your cell, 62097. Make sure you get settled in properly again. It wouldn’t hurt to check up on your wounds, either, hm? Check to see if everything’s alright. Would be such a shame if you were to be out of work for a few weeks more by doing something stupid .”

“Yeah,” Billy cleared his throat. “It sure would.”

***

“One fucking thing, Hagan. Told you to do one fucking thing!” 

Billy had burst into the laundry room a few hours into their shift. Two joints was all it took to get the guards to let him in and leave him alone with his crew for a bit. Their logic was that if Billy wanted to move around and fuck up his healing, he could. They weren’t going to babysit him, especially not if he was offering weed to get them to turn a blind eye.

“Holy fuck. I should beat your goddamn head in for being so fucking stupid!” 

No one else in the room made a sound as Billy went off, Jonathan sitting with his hands over his ears. Billy was roaring, pacing around to keep himself from pinning Tommy to the wall. His anger wasn’t a full blown blind rage – it stemmed from fear. 

Creel knew about Steve because of the fuck up and would know he was an easy target just like Jonathan by dinner hour. He was in panic mode, barely able to think though it. All he knew was that they were fucked – not just him, but all of them. 

“Always comes back to me. Have to do fucking everything around here, useless fucking prick. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Eddie stepped in when Billy started to throw things around, cautiously walking up to him to touch his shoulders. “Bills, breathe,” He whispered, squeezing them tight. “Come here and sit down for a minute. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Don’t you tell me what to fucking do,” Billy snapped, shoving Eddie away, but there wasn’t any reaction from his old cellie. Eddie simply stepped forward again, reached for Bills’ wrists, and pulled him over to a chair when he wasn’t pushed away again. 

“We need to think, yeah? So just – chill for a minute,” Eddie tried his best to soothe him without sounding condescending. “Steve’s fine, I’m fine. We’ll get Carver taken care of and then–”

“And then Creel’ll tear Steve to shreds for fun, and then what, huh? You don’t know shit about what he does, none of you do. Preppy fucking princess over there wouldn’t survive twenty seconds trapped in a cell with him,” Billy was up again, throwing his hands in the air, and Eddie glanced over at Steve.

If he hadn’t stood up, hadn’t tried to defend Eddie, everything may have been prevented.

“I have to kill him. Have to. It’ll never end,” Hargrove started up again, and Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I don’t give a shit if I get life. It’ll be worth it to see the life drain out of those fucking eyes.”

“Billy, stop. You can’t say shit like that,” Eddie went right back to him, voice shifting into something more pleading. 

Argyle was up too then, reaching out to grab Billy’s arm. His grip was tight, unlike Eddie, and he shook him for a second. “No one’s getting life, man. Get it together. You can’t do shit if you’re worked up like this. Chill. Out. ”

With a shake of his head, Billy pulled his arm free and headed back towards the door. Talking about murder out in the open was a dangerous game – but everyone in the room could be trusted and the guards weren’t anywhere near. “This ends soon. I’m coming up with a goddamn plan to end him if it’s the last thing I do.”

***

“I want you to kneel down here, right between my legs, alright? Need to talk to you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. He sat on the bottom bunk, spreading his legs open before guiding Steve down to kneel between them. His hands were gentle on Steve’s wrists, only letting him go to touch his shoulders to press him downwards.

Billy shifted on the top bunk until he was able to look down at them. He’d spent the entire afternoon plotting and writing too many drafts to Chrissy to try to relay his thoughts to her without getting flagged or Max realizing what he was thinking, and now the boys were back from work and dinner hour to keep him company again. He still didn’t know exactly what had happened in the cafeteria, but even through his anger he could tell Eddie wasn’t right when he’d stopped by earlier on. Something had upset him, and now he could tell that that something was Steve.

“I’m upset with you,” Eddie murmured, his hand going to pet Steve's hair. He nearly took the words back when he saw the way Steve’s entire face fell and his eyes started to water.

“I’m sorry,” He immediately started, but Eddie shook his head. 

“No speaking yet, Stevie. You answer me when I ask you a question, but that’s it,” Eddie’s voice was even, calm, and his hand shifted again to massage his scalp. “I’m not angry, but I am upset. Do you know why?”

Steve took a second to think, desperately searching his mind to try to figure out what he could have done. He had been a good boy at work, hadn’t even cowered when Billy started throwing things. “Because I… I went with the guard?” He guessed, looking back up at him.

“No,” Eddie slipped his hand from Steve’s hair, moving it downwards to hold his chin. “What did you do during breakfast? After Carver joined us. Tell me what happened, exactly what you did.”

Even though he was trying, Steve couldn’t remember what he’d done wrong. His fingers reached for Eddie’s sweats, fiddling with them as his eyes dropped to look at his torso. “I was–”

“Ah, ah. Eyes up here. On me, baby,” Eddie tipped his chin upwards to emphasize his words, and Steve forced his eyes back up.

Billy was absolutely perplexed on the top bunk. He’d punished Eddie hundreds of times over the years, but he’d never sat him down to talk first, not like this. He’d have him kneel for conversations often enough, have him naked and waiting on his knees for him, but there was something so intimate about the scene before him, something so gentle. It made his breath catch in his throat.

After sucking in a breath, Steve spoke again. “I was just eating and he sat down,” The words came out cautiously, like he was worried he was going to say the wrong thing, and his eyes flickered over Eddie’s face. He was trying to watch for a reaction, any sort of hint that he was doing good or bad. “And I was afraid he was going to hurt you and then the guard came.”

“Getting closer,” Eddie nodded, encouraging him to keep going. “What did you do when you were afraid he was going to do something to me?”

Oh. 

Eddie saw the realization spread over Steve’s face – and then the nervousness that followed it. “I stood up to block you behind me.”

“Right. There we go. And what did you put yourself in when you did that?” Eddie raised his eyebrows a touch. 

“A bad situation?”

It was hard for Eddie to resist smiling at how small and shaky Steve’s voice was. Even though he was frightened, it wasn’t in the same way he’d been frightened of Billy. It made Eddie realize Steve trusted him.  “ Exactly. A bad situation. A dangerous situation. You intentionally put yourself in harm's way.”

“But I didn’t mean to. I was just there, and I thought he was–”

“Shh,” Eddie cooed. “You have to learn not to do it again. And how do you think we should do that? How should I teach you, what’s a good punishment?”

If his Papa wasn’t so calm, Steve would have been in full blown panic mode. He would have been convinced he was getting an M to match the H on his arse, and would have started to choke on his own fear and beg for mercy, but Eddie didn’t have Billy’s temper. His hands weren’t rough, he wasn’t squeezing too tight – if anything, his thumb was smoothing over Steve’s jaw, silent encouragement for him to answer the question.

“I don’t know,” He shook his head a bit.

Billy had some ideas from the top bunk, but he kept his mouth shut, staying silent to see just what Eddie was planning on doing.

“I’m sure you can come up with something, Stevie. Think for a minute.”

Steve let out a soft little sigh. He didn’t know anything about punishing other people – the most he would do to ‘punish’ Dustin when he acted up was lecture him about safety, maybe take away one of his little figurines or science experiments for a day. It gave him something to go off of, at least.

“Maybe no sweets? For today?”

“Just for today?” Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, physically couldn’t contain it. “It’s past seven o’clock. We’ve got less than two hours before lights out, I think that’d be a pretty tame punishment, but good boy for coming up with something.”

Eds didn’t know what was going to happen when he went back to his cell; Jason was going to be pissed as fuck, but he didn’t know if that would mean he’d get the shit beat out of him or if he’d have to listen to the blonde read out from his bible the entire night. He’d prefer the former, he decided. Anything but the fucking preaching.

“I think we can start with sweets. No sweets for two days,” Eddie decided, but then he paused to ponder for a second. “Open up Daddy’s drawer, pick some out.”

Steve hesitated, looking at Eddie for a moment, and then up to the top bunk. Billy raised his eyebrows just a smidge, challenging him to disobey Eddie’s orders, but Steve wouldn’t dare. He obeyed, opening Billy’s compartment underneath his bunk that held all the fun items. His drawer was only ever used their clothes, and everything else was kept in Billy’s. There were all the snacks, the makeup he’d just gotten for his birthday, a couple of books. He got out two packets, one of his favorite gummy bears and another that was a hard kind, before sliding the cubby back in.

“Good boy. Now open them,” Eddie instructed some more, and Steve’s face contorted in confusion before he tore the packages of candy open. “And dump them into the toilet.”

“What? No!” The words came out before Steve could stop them, hands tightening around the plastic packages. “That’s such a waste, you can’t just–”

“It’s not a waste if it’s teaching you a lesson. You put yourself in dangerous situations, and you lose your rewards,” Eddie leaned in further to him and his voice dropped down a bit. “Pour them into the toilet, baby. And then you’re going to flush them. It might help you remember not to try to play the hero next time. Daddy and Papa don’t need protection, okay?”

Billy hadn’t been expecting to find Eddie in dominant mode such a turn on, but he did. He wanted to bend him over the bottom bunk and rail him until Papa was screaming like a pretty little whore. 

After another few moments, Steve stood up with a sigh and went to stand above the toilet. It may have seemed like a silly punishment, but it wasn’t just candy he was having to flush. It felt like he was having to flush that addictive feeling that came with them, the feeling all the praise gave him. It made him feel horrible, like he’d done something so wrong, like he’d been bad, and if he stayed bad, they wouldn’t want him anymore. He had to be good, had to listen and be who they wanted him to be so they would just stay, so they would love him and be his family for real instead of playing pretend like it was all bullshit. Even if Billy could be rough sometimes, and even if he didn’t want to do everything they told him he had to, they wanted him, usually so much that they didn’t care if he wanted them back. Eddie didn’t pull his hand away when Steve reached to hold one, Billy didn’t turn him down when he asked him to climb down and sleep with him after the lights went out and his thoughts took over. He didn’t want to lose it, lose them, like he’d lost everyone else.

It was a feeling he didn’t want to feel again. It was the complete opposite to the high he normally got from the candy and praise.

The hard ones were dumped first, the sound of them clinking against the metal toilet filling the cell for a few moments. Then, after another glance at Eddie, he dumped the gummies in, too.

“Go on,” Eds prodded, and as Steve flushed the sweets away, Billy jumped down from the top bunk.

It definitely wasn’t any sort of punishment he would have given – he was more into the physical kind – but Steve did look upset, the wheels in his head turning and clearly overthinking the entire thing as if he’d just flushed half his soul instead of two small packages of candy that barely cost forty cents a piece. 

“I want you to think about this then next time you feel the need to step in,” Eddie reached out to twist Steve around until he was facing him and Billy. “We protect you. We look after you. Not the other way around. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Steve mumbled.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Papa. I understand,” His cheeks turned red and Eddie brought his fingers up to brush over them. 

“Good boy. Now strip.”

Billy raised his eyebrows then, watching Eddie reach out to pry the packages from Steve’s hands to toss into the garbage so their boy could start peeling his clothes off. He’d left his hesitancy over being naked behind while Billy was gone, and was far more used to being nude. Still, he didn’t know what Eddie’s plans were, his own ideas running through his mind at a mile a minute.

Even though he wouldn’t look at them as he peeled his clothes off, Steve stripped down to his underwear before them. Once he was clad only in his briefs, hands not really sure what to do with themselves, he looked between both men, waiting for more instructions. 

“I think he should have something to remind him of what he’s done tonight, don’t you, Bills?” Eddie asked, still keeping his eyes on Steve. “Take them off, too, Stevie. I’ve got an idea.”

“I’m starting to like your ideas, sweetheart,” Billy laughed through his nose, eyes following the underwear as the fabric slid down Steve’s legs. 

“I’m full of good ones. Could’ve shared them a long time ago if you’d of let me indulge this side,” Eddie joked. He held his hand out for them, curling his fist around them. “I’m going to make a mess in these, and Daddy’s going to make a mess all over you, and you’re going to sleep in it, yeah? And then, when we go to the showers tomorrow morning, everyone’ll see what a mess you are before you wash it off.”

“Well, shit, Eds,” Billy laughed softly and Steve’s eyes went wide. “Couldn’t have come up with anything better myself. Didn’t know you were into humiliating pretty boys.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Hargrove,” Eddie teased. “I take it this sounds good with you, then? You approve?”

“Yeah, baby. I approve. All sounds good to me,” Billy pulled Eddie in for a kiss before nodding towards the bottom bunk. “Get on your bed, Stevie. On your back. Spread those lovely legs for me.”

Steve’s eyes prickled with tears a little bit at the idea, but he shifted past Eddie to do as he was told. He laid on his bunk, bending his legs at the knees and spreading them wide so Billy could stand between them at the edge and duck down enough to look in at him. It prevented Billy from having to get atop him and put any strain on his body – he could simply stand up straight and jack off above him, let his load out over Steve’s cock. It started to stir to life when Billy looked down at him, tongue snaking out over his lips as he got his cock out. 

Normally, Billy was against wanking off – he had no desire to, not when he had two babies with four holes and four hands between them – but he reminded himself that it served a purpose this time. 

“You’re gonna fall asleep with Daddy and Papa’s cum all over you, princess. Going to absolutely ruin your panties,” Billy muttered, more to himself. Steve felt around with one arm for the bears that lived on his bed all day. “You’re real lucky that Papa is so kind and gentle with you. I would have beat your ass bluer than that silly bear for doing something so stupid. But it’s okay, you can be a stupid baby. Only thing you have to worry about is pleasing us, we’ll teach you the rest,” He grunted, jutted his hips a little harder into his hand, before stopping and reaching for Steve’s, instead. Once Steve wrapped his hand around his thick cock, Billy covered it with his own to guide him along, setting the pace. “When I’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is cock and candy and those bears, baby boy. Gonna be a perfect pet for us by the time we get out of here. Might get you a leash and everything when we get out, keep you close and spread open for whenever I need you. I think you’d like it more than you think, Stevie. Never having to worry about working, or bills, or any responsibility, your sole purpose to please. It’s what you’re good for, you know? Looking pretty and being a few tight holes for me. Can’t wait to finally tear that tiny little ass apart, fuck.”

The words didn’t hold any meaning, not to Billy. He wasn’t serious – of course Steve would be his pet, their pet, but it wasn’t all he was good for. There wasn’t a doubt in Billy’s mind that Steve would go on to be some sort of big deal when he was released, maybe a teacher or something with kids, but gushing about his faith in his pets wasn’t exactly his thing even if it somehow would have made for good dirty talk. In no way did he think his baby was stupid or incapable, he thought Steve was bright and clever and fun to be around, but he didn’t realize that Steve considered himself such. He didn’t know Steve’s insecurities and trauma and issues, didn’t know that words of him being a mindless sex pet would bother him.

He just didn’t see himself as being good for a lot of things. He didn’t consider himself to be smart, or clever, and he clearly couldn’t consider himself strong if he let Billy treat him like a bitch from day one. Even before getting locked up, he didn’t have much hope for his future, and it was even worse as the days went on. The only thing he felt good for was obeying them, and Eddie being upset with him had him questioning even that. 

“Don’t cry, Princess,” Billy’s voice shifted to a coo, free hand leaving Steve’s thigh to reach and wipe his cheeks. “You just gotta learn, that’s all. That’s why we’re here, to train you real good. Go on, say it. Tell us you’re gonna be our perfect little pet.”

When he didn’t immediately repeat the words, Billy came to a pause, stopping his hips and keeping his hand still. 

“Stevie. Say it. Tell Daddy you’re going to be such a good pet that all our friends are gonna be jealous, wish you were theirs. Maybe I’ll share you, train you to love it just like Papa. The more cocks you go though, the better. It’s what your body needs.”

“I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll be your perfect pet.”

Eddie let out a stifled groan from his place behind Billy at Steve’s shaky voice, almost immediately releasing into the underwear he was jacking himself off into. He’d been silently listening to Billy’s words and the sound of their hands around Billy’s cock as he got himself off; it hadn’t taken long after getting to look down at Steve on his knees for him. The image was enough wanking fuel for the next three weeks, at least.

“Good boy. I know you will. Did you hear that? You got Papa off,” Billy started to move their hands again, shifting his feet to position himself so he could spurt over Steve’s cock, his pubic hair, his thighs. He wanted to make a real mess of it just like Eddie had pictured. 

As he got closer, Eddie moved to toss the soiled underwear onto the bunk beside Steve before sliding his arms around Billy’s waist from behind. The act made him stiffen at first, but he relaxed when Eds dug his nails into his skin.

“You close, Daddy?” Eddie murmured, resting his chin on Billy’s shoulder so he could look down at Steve, too. “Jesus, just look at him. Those big eyes. Can’t believe he’s all ours.” Billy grunted at the words, a signal for him to keep going. “Look how pretty they are when they’re filled with tears, Bills. You think he’ll cry real hard when you fuck him? I’ll get him all ready for you. Stretch him open, have him waiting to be filled right up.”

Eddie slid his hand downwards, pushing their hands away until he could take over the motion and finish getting him off. He felt like he knew what his man liked better than Billy himself did, could milk the grunts and groans out of him with ease. When he came, Eddie was sure to get it just where he wanted it, and then proceeded to smear it along Steve’s cock afterwards. He wanted it to be uncomfortable, for Steve to feel the stickiness whenever he shifted. 

“Good boy. Now we put these back on, and you’re getting into bed,” Eddie murmured once Billy had backed up and out of the way, working to get Steve’s underwear back up and over his legs. Even though he was blinking out tears, Steve was hard, but Eds shook his head at him. “You don’t get to get off. Not tonight. If you ask Daddy after lights out, he might let you hump one of the bears, but you’re not getting off. You’re already too much of a mess as it is.”

His voice was gentle, kind, and he wiped Steve’s tears as he spoke, words followed by a kiss to his forehead. “Come on, into bed. I’ve got to go before they come and drag me away.”

It drove him insane, not being able to stick around and crawl into bed with his baby. He missed bunking with Billy – some of their deepest conversations always came in the dead of night. It sucked having to leave them every single day, even more so when he had to go back to Jason Carver.

He said goodnight to Steve one more time before standing up straight and looking at his old cellie. “Night, Bills. Take it easy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He yanked Eddie in for a kiss before shoving him towards the cell door. “Get out of here before you’re thrown into isolation, Eds. Tell Carver he’ll be meeting Jesus Christ himself tomorrow if he lays a hand on you tonight. I’ll even end him in the prison’s chapel so he doesn’t have as long of a trip to hell.”

[lokisprettygirl]

The Bodyguard (Loki x Female reader) (Au) (18+)

Read chapter 30 here// Series Masterlist

Chapter 31

Summary : You were enamoured by him the moment you set your eyes upon him, after basking in his kindness, is it really possible for you to allow him to become just a memory?

Warning : 18+, Heavy Daddy kink, Smut, Violence, Mentions of self harm, murderous thoughts, Mention of Suicide, Rape, abuse, sexual violence, Harsh language, bodyshaming, fatshaming, mention of neglect and abuse, emotional abuse, Unhealthy Eating Patterns, blackmail, starving and under eating, implied smut, mention of drug use, some weird feeding kink I’m (loki is) developing, short chapter

"I'm not going to pick you Loki" 

He heard you, loud and clear and his heart broke in pieces all over again. He won't be picked? Not even as an option this time? He had hurt you terribly and he understood that but he really hoped that you'd be able to see that he never wanted to hurt you just to hurt you, he made a mistake but maybe he didn't deserve this second chance and if you won't pick him, he still wanted to be your friend. 

"Okay okay okay..don't pick me.. don't love me darling ..it's okay..it's okay..I deserve this" he wiped his tears even though he felt excruciating pain that was weakening him more and more every second but he wanted to stay strong because he really wanted to get through to you this time. He didn't want you to give up on life. He didn't want you to marry Steve.

"I don't need anything from you, but please let me help you, let me take you out of here, I can't watch you ruin your  whole life like that..just let me –" you cut him off before he could speak further and cupped his cheeks, your thumb rubbed over his sharp cheekbones and you leaned down to kiss his forehead, 

"I am not going to pick you because picking you means you are an option for me, a choice that I'd have to make from my own will but that's wrong..so wrong" your voice cracked and he looked up at you all wide eyed and confused.

"You never were a choice loki, I never picked you. I just fell in love, hard and fast, so fast because I have never met a man like you before. I have been around the world but I never knew or even heard of a man so kind, so pure, so gentle, so sweet and so so lovable, the way you have changed me for good in the past few months is shocking to me even, a lifetime with you would be nothing short of a blessing for me..so no loki I'm not going to pick you because you're not an object to be picked, you're unique and precious, one of your kind. I want you, I need you, I love you but I'm not going to pick you because you are in there with me for every moment that I exist" 

He had started to sob in the middle of your words, by the time you finished he was clutching onto you and sobbing again. He has never felt so appreciated in his life and for a moment he thought he was dreaming. Did you still love him so deeply after he had hurt you ? 

"I'm sorry darling I'm sorry I'm sorry..I love you so much and I'm sorry I broke you like that, I'm supposed to protect you and I failed..I failed" you wrapped your arms around his neck as he cried to his heart's content, he had allowed you to let it out before and you wanted to do the same for him, he had repressed feelings regarding abandonment and you didn't want him to keep it all in anymore.

"You didn't fail lo, you just made a mistake, I did too once but you forgave me and you know how much I love you so please please trust me, there are so many things I want to tell you about my past, I just thought I'll tell you once we are out of here, I never thought it would go this way and I can't take it, you being distant and mean to me..I can't take it" he placed his chin on your torso and looked up at you ..like a baby. 

"I am sorry baby, i'm not going to make excuses for my behavior that day, nothing can justify the way I treated you and I can only promise to not do it again, that only if you still want me love " you leaned down and kissed him as soon as finished, he cupped your cheeks and stood up without breaking that kiss, your head tilted up as he towered over you suddenly, he felt your fingernails running through the back of his neck and one of his arm wrapped around your neck while the other one curled over your shoulders, as he pulled away from the kiss, his lips peppered kisses on your neck. 

You felt as if you could finally breathe properly, it wasn't easy for you to build up the strength and open your heart again but you knew you couldn't let go of his hand when all he wanted to do was hold it all life long. 

"Lokii" you stepped away from him suddenly and he looked at you, worry filled his eyes "I'm so scared" he stepped closer to you and pulled you towards him

"About us?" He asked you softly so you looked in his eyes,

"Umm that too but our situation, I'm getting married in ten days, nine now" your eyes welled up again and so did his, before he could say something you spoke again.

"And I want you to be careful please, what you're doing with Katlyn is going to hurt you and if something happens to you–" 

"Nothing will harm me I promise, just trust me please, I…I intended to send you away from here whether you chose to be mine or not" he kissed your forehead and that's when you broke down too, he quickly embraced you in a warm hug, last week was hell for both of you and to be real all of this still felt like a dream to you and you were afraid of waking up all alone again. 

"I'm so sorry baby..I'm so sorry little one..I'm sorry for what I said about you acting like a child, I never meant to take away the vulnerability you shared with me, you're my baby and you always will be" he pressed soft kisses on your bare shoulder as you clung to him, and lord if he wasn't the happiest man on earth to be able to feel you holding him so tightly again. You whimpered as his words weakened you finally, the strong facade you held was broken, you sniffled and cried while you held onto him tightly.

Once you calmed down he pulled you away, wiped your moist face with the sleeves of his coat and took two steps away from you. Then he just looked at you, he just stopped for a moment, took a deep breath and just admired the beauty and strength you held within you, you never were supposed to be amongst such fake abusive people.

"You look beautiful..love the color on you baby" he smiled a little and it made you feel flushed.

"Thank you, it brought me comfort, but the fit is too tight" you chuckled and he smiled again. He noticed how your fingers clasped with each other in sudden nervousness. He was crying on his knees for you a few minutes ago but he had switched into the soft daddy mode really quickly.

"You want to change?" He asked you and you crossed your arms, your palm rubbed over your upper arm. 

"You want me to leave?" He smiled and shook his head at the response, he walked towards the closet and took a t- shirt out as well as a fresh towel

"You can stay here, nobody would notice tonight"  your heart fluttered as he said that.

You grabbed the shirt and the towel from him, 

"Ummm unzip me please " you mumbled as you turned around, he pulled your hair to the side and the touch made you shiver, you had missed his soft loving sensuous touch.

He pulled the zipper down slowly and he heard you exhale, his fingers curled around the thin straps as he pulled them down, then you felt his lips on the side of your neck, the gesture made you moan in response and he knew he had to step away, you both needed to talk and he won't get the chance to be so free with you in the coming days.

"Shower and change okay? I'll be right here" you nodded and bit on your lips as you walked towards the bathroom, a smile apparent on your features.

Even his bathroom smelled like the mixture of his cologne and body wash, he didn't have wipes or anything so you just used the facewash to scrub the makeup off as well as you could, he didn't have any serum or skincare products either, his bathroom didn't have anything and you realized that you will have to get used to being without such amenities, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. You smiled as you stepped out in just his shirt, it went past your mid thighs, you had your underwear on.

"Ummm do you have a moisturizer?" he looked at your soft plump freshly scrubbed face and smiled.

"I do but it's for men I guess, will that be alright?" He asked you as he went through his dresser.

"It's perfect, I just need a little of it" he passed you the tube and then he went inside the bathroom to shower and change as well. You opened his dresser to keep the tube of moisturizer inside because fuck boundaries. It had the bottle of cologne he used that wasn't very pricey but as soon as you opened the cap it comforted you instantly, you associated the smell with him, there was a hairbrush, a shaving kit, a box of trimmer that he probably used for trimming his itsies bitsies, why were you even thinking about it now? That's why you shouldn't go through personal belongings of other people. 

You were going to close the dresser but then your eyes fell upon a photograph, it was a picture of a family, a woman with dark brown hair surrounded by three kids. You gasped as you recognised Loki immediately, curly black hair and cute little smile, those green eyes popped out. 

There was a blond boy next to him that was Thor.

"How come you used to be so skinny?" You chuckled and then you looked at the girl on his left side, that was probably his sister, she had raven hair too, her smile matched him too even though they weren't related by blood.

 Your eyes teared up as you continued to stare at the picture, they all looked happy, a happy family, family that you never got to have, not for long anyways.

You closed the dresser and looked at yourself in the mirror.

"Gods you look horrible" you fixed your hair with your fingers and sat down on his bed, when he came out he was dressed in his usual sleeping clothes, no shirtless loki today. Fine.

He smiled as he looked at you, his hair was dripping wet and slicked back, giving it a longer appearance. He looked like an angel. He grabbed the plate of the cake and walked towards you, he was thoughtful like that, he didn't have to bring it you knew that.

"You know the birthday girl is supposed to have the first bite of the cake right?" He smiled and your eyes teared up 

"Nobody asked if I wanted it.. besides it's Katlyn's favorite flavor, she insisted upon it" he cut a small bite with the fork and pressed it over your lips.

"Do you not like red velvet darling?" He asked you and you took a bite 

"I love red velvet " 

"Then eat for me okay?" He offered you another bite and you took it immediately.

"Mmm are you going to feed me like this, get me hooked and then leave me again?" You complained like a scorned child

"To be fair I wasn't the one that did the leaving" 

"You know what I mean" 

"I do and the answer is always no, I never intended or wanted to leave" 

You grabbed his wrist and made him sit down next to you, then you fed him a bite and two. 

You didn't like the icing very much so he fed you the bread only and got up to place it back on the dresser and walked towards you again, he placed his fingers on your chin to make you look at him and then he bent down to kiss you, you clutched onto is shirt as you laid down on the bed , taking him along with you 

"Happy birthday little one, I'm sorry I wasn't able to make this one special but I promise your next one will be memorable, it will be your real birthday baby..I love you .I love you so much" he whispered between the kisses and your eyes teared up. 

"But you did, you did make it special lo" 

He didn't respond with words this time. Once he was done with his fill of kisses he laid down next to you and snuggled you into him 

"Okay ask me for a birthday gift" he smiled as he perched himself on his elbows, your eyes twinkled and you looked at him mischievously, the next words blew his mind 

"Dadddy" damn that got him hard instantly

"Yes baby" 

"Can I suck your cock tonight?" 

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