#Kas!eddie fanfic

[daffodilsm]

                                  𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 !                                                                                      ǝǝɹɥʇ ɹǝʇdɐɥɔ

pairing: eddie munson  x  female  reader   trigger warnings: mentions of death, grief, ptsd, blood, and gore  tags: kas!eddie, canon adjacent, lovers to strangers, strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers again, st5 imagine, ronance, byler summary: your mind struggles with an endless sea of questions and memories of your life with eddie word count: 3044 status: ongoing read on ao3: here !  masterlist:   🦇

Silence fell heavy within the car --- suffocating and draining. A pure emptiness pitted deep within the core of every individual there, leaving such a gnawing ache it took deep, clenched breaths to endure. While the others freed themselves of the claustrophobic trap as soon as possible, you remained inside the car upon instruction. A delegation needed before any further information was shared about the secrets Steve and his friends carried. Your exhaustion so palpable there was no more fight left in you to argue. 

Apparently this Mike was the younger brother of Nancy Wheeler. Someone you knew, though granted, not well. Preppy girl, you recalled, who always seemed to get what she wanted. It never bothered you when you shared the close knit halls of Hawkins High  (  you  even  felt  pity  when  Barb  had  come  and  gone  ) , but again you can’t help but wonder how any of them knew Eddie. While Steve, notably and rather drastically, had a personality makeover the year you both graduated, serious reparations would be needed to ever get them in a good place. Eddie “the freak” Munson wasn’t a self given title. Though he would wear it like a badge of honor when Tommy H. or Jason would get in his face, because Eddie happened to be a little too boisterous that day. But you knew what it did to him, and you knew those who wiped away red stains from his headstone must have called him that behind his back. 

Those same people you watched now. Five bodies huddled together in a disarray of theatrical gestures and furrowed expressions. Their voices coming through to you in muffled nothingness. A variety of tone overlaying on top of each other as they all appeared to have something to share and say. When Nancy happened to look over with a pointed indication they were now clearly discussing your presence, you looked away. Still seated in the backseat, Robin’s choppy short strands came into your view from the front passenger side. Somehow you didn’t realize she had not exited the vehicle, and your anger has not dissipated in the slightest towards them. 

You couldn’t look out the window, couldn’t look towards the front seat, so you decided to view the black coolness behind shut eyelids. A deep breath harshly whipping through your nose as your composure still needed grasping. There was obviously so much more to the story not yet unfolded to you, and it left you feeling antsy... discombobulated. A concussion from a two hundred and fifty pound linebacker would have felt better than this right now.  Your feet kick slightly in torment --- the only word close enough to the way your insides twist and knot when Eddie’s features flash across your eyelids in a hellish drive in theater private showing. 

Those eyes, large and round, were not meant to be that color. Red. Haunted and chilling; humanity completely lacking from each iris. You wished to wipe that image away before it could completely taint the other thousand memories of you spent staring into his October eyes. The perfect shade of brown that glowed like sunlight through satin curtains in the early, autumn mornings; reflecting it’s shade upon you in rich, heavy waves of molasses. With every stare Eddie had you frozen, stuck within his gaze and a desire to never leave it. Until finally you had nearly drowned and clawed yourself out, his remnants sticking to you like tar while your words branded him in scars. 

                                   “ Drop dead, ---- ” 

A crinkle on the already low playing radio.                 

                                     ---- legs, pretty smile                                      hurts my head, gets me wild.                                       dig that steam, giant butt                                      makes me scream                                      i get nuh-nuh nothing but the shakes over you                                      and nothing else could ever do !

Tears fall once more from your tired eyes, but they meet on top two rounded hills of a smile. To cry over a silly Van Halen song such an odd sentiment, but the memory it carried too precious. It occurring only months before your love went to hell. 

                                                         🥀

“ God, I hate this song. ”  You lied, partly. While the tune didn’t match your level of taste  ( you finding i’ll wait from the same 1984 album more to your liking ), the expressions that carried upon his theatrical features made your body fill with adrenaline spiked excitement whenever it came on. 

“ Oooh, that’s strike one, L/N. ”  An unserious grin carrying his words as calloused torn fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling you across and closer to the edge of the bed. The pads of Eddie’s fingertips then crawling up your leg and thigh, lifting it high to his lips as the lyrics continued to spill in addicting melody alongside cupid bow pressings against your skin. 

                        ��               dig those moves, vampire                                         set me loose, get it higher                                         throw my rope, loop-de-loop                                         nice white teeth, betty boop

Each stanza interrupted from a kiss pressed higher and higher, until his body completely came to lay over your own. His arms dropping your leg to prop himself above you in a comfortable hover; shoulder length hair spilling around you in a brown, tousled waterfall. Eddie’s lips millimeters from your own. 

“ You want me to kiss you so bad, dontcha? ”  The playfulness doesn’t waver from his tone, but it deters towards distraction. Eddie knew damn well you didn’t come over for that, though with the way he was staring; eyes eating you up in desire --- you couldn’t deny the temptation. But Wayne was in the next room over and Eddie needed to pass Ms. O’Donnell’s upcoming exam. 

“ I want you to do your homework. ”  And with a hand and a light shove, you push him towards the side. Eddie flopping dramatically ( as always ) against the sheets before giving a slight yelp. A dungeon and dragons book lodged between his shoulders blades that he reaches under and pushes to the floor. 

“ That, love, is strike two. ”  Eddie mewls, hands locked behind his head and feet crossed at the ankles. 

“ And when did you give a shit about baseball? ”  You roll off the bed, putting distance between the friction that never sizzled between the two of you. He needed to focus, as impossible as a task that was.

“ When I saw all the cute guys in their tight, sexy baseball pants. ”  Laughter echoes beneath the continued sounds of Van Halen, Eddie’s hands muffling every other chuckle as he fends off your attacks with the pillow.  “ How many of them you think I could get to third base with? ”  Another comment met with a pillow. “ Hargrove, definitely! Right? ”  Pillow. 

“ Be serious, Munson. I want us to graduate together, alright? If you make me walk that stage alone, forgiveness will not come easy. ” Remnants of a laugh from his comments linger on your lips, but your tone and the words behind them carry significant weight. 

You were a freshman and Eddie was a sophomore when you stumbled upon one another. One of the first pep rallies of that year and you hid away beneath the bleachers where Eddie had already perched himself with a brown paper bag wrapped tightly in a fist. A shared sip led to a shared story that became an endless amount of memories spawned over years. Memories you wanted to build upon throughout your future. 

“ You’ll find more cheer in a graveyard... ”  He sarcastically quoted in a silly voice, refusing to take anything seriously. Eddie knew the seriousness of his situation, however he believed that he was a lost cause destined for failure thanks to the likes of his father. He desperately wanted to care for you and make true the desires you held, but he was ( truthfully ) frightened and didn’t see any hope of it ever coming true. 

“ Keep silly voices and Tolkien out of this, Eddie ! ”  You walk towards the edge of the room, digging through a mostly abandoned backpack. Inside, a complete lack of organization as you de-crumbled papers that were the math homework assigned earlier that day. Stuffing the paper ( hoping they’d flattened ) into the heavy math textbook that was already on his dresser, you tossed it to the empty indention you left upon the sheets next to him.  “ Study, now. Or you shall not pass ! ”

Regret immediately fills your senses as whatever focus Eddie could’ve possessed was thrown quickly out the window. Long limbs flipped and crawled off the bed, carrying him throughout the small space between your two frames. One of his hands then pressed against your stomach, guiding you back against and up onto the dresser. While his other took your chin, lifting it up to meet the eagerness of his own.

You were strong willed, but not that strong. Your every inch giving in to the passion Eddie always carried. When his lips move against your neck, a sigh is drawn out  --- gasping for breath against the brush of his teeth on your smooth skin. 

Though the song is long finished, the tape sizzling out into a heavy silence, Eddie’s rendition of the lyrics breath heavy against your neck. His legs pushing apart your thighs as he settled closer against your frame.

                                       baby, you know that you want it                                        i know what it is                                        you know that you want it, baby                                        when the night is through,                                         will I still be loving you?

It took every ounce of your strength to not let it continue, or else Eddie and walking the stage to receive his long overdue diploma would really just be a fantasy. Your hands press firmly against his chest. The motion raising his eyes to meet your own, amber hues darkened with teenage lust. Pushing him back, Eddie obliged, taking a couple of steps backwards, and your eyes remaining locked as you slowly slid off the dresser. 

Without any words, you turn towards the cassette player, popping out the tape and feeling his gaze wash over your every motion. While Eddie had expected you to change it to the other side, disappointment carried through his body as he fell back onto the mattress with a defeated sigh when you instead put the tape back into it’s case and left the cassette player shut and empty. 

“ Study, now. ”  Your breath revealing you wanted to do everything but. 

Eddie’s lips part to reply. 

                                                         🥀

“ Strike three. ”

Your eyes fling open, completely startled. The response from the memory that played over the song coming from within the car. From Robin. They looking back at you with intense, harboring red tinted views. Your entire body shifts within the seat, eyes blinking rapidly. 

As soon as you did, Robin was no longer looking at you. It appeared as if she had never even turned around. Their head instead leaning against the glass plane window, staring out towards the quiet, mundane suburb.

“ What did you just say? ”

Robin shifts, confused by the question before slowly turning around. Their eyes not red, but their natural oceanic blue. Hues shift between you and the rest of the car --- she had no idea what you are talking about.

“ Me? I -- I didn’t say anything. ”

BOM!BOM!BOM!

The sound of a flat palm against the car window startles the both of you. A lump sent immediately down your throat as anxiety and adrenaline rush your blood stream once more. Steve, either not realizing or caring that the shit was just effectively scared out of you and Robin, waves the both of you out of the vehicle. Almost immediately, you both tumble out through the opposite doors, shaking the stiffness out of your limbs as you cross into the yard. The strangeness you just experienced, you chalking up to a tired, exhausted mind riddle by too many questions. And a deep longing for the boy you loved, pushed away, and effectively lost. 

Dustin and Mike appeared to have gone off on either side of the yard, their mouths pressed near the walkie-talkies in their hands. Erica stayed near Nancy, arms crossed and shoulders pulled back in an attempt to appear taller. Robin came up next to you, and you realized just as much as you were trying not to look at her; she was also trying not to look at you.

“ Robin, your neck... ”  Nancy rushes forward, pulling the small, light blue and silk scarf she was adorning off of her neck. Your eyes just catching two small trickled steams of blood before it’s soaked into the pastel accessory. 

“ I... must have gotten bit by a mosquito or something. ” Robin offers an unsure explanation, tilting their head as Nancy began dabbing the two small wounds. 

“ Mosquito bites don’t look like this... it must have been a spider. ”

“ We were at the cemetery for hours, it’s entirely possible it happened there. ” Steve stepped towards them, hovering just behind Nancy to get a good look at whatever was going on.

Once the bleeding had seemed to stop, Nancy nonchalantly stuffs the scarf into her pocket; taking you a little by surprise. For a girl who looked like she’d faint at the sight of blood, she appeared to have no problem with it. Just as she did, she took notice of you --- Nancy reaching out a hand in introduction.

“ I’m Nancy. Erica said you dated Eddie? ”  Straight to the point, she was. A journalist through and through. 

Your eyes hover to her hand to Erica, who shrugged, then to Steve and Robin, who cringed at the realization that Nancy had no idea who you were.

“ Eddie had a girlfriend? ”  The tall, figure you knew now as Mike interjected, slicing through awkwardness that came as Nancy’s hand lingered untaken in the air before she finally dropped it to her side. “ He never mentioned that. ”

“ We broke up last summer... ”

“ She’s Lady Hope. ”  Dustin quickly joins from the other side of the yard, pushing the antenna of the hand held radio down.

“ Holy shit, you’re Lady Hope? ”  It took a brief pause for Mike to connect the name, but the name then quickly resonated in his mind. A clear signal to you that he must’ve been apart of HELLFIRE as well.  “ Lady Hope is an absolute legend.  Eddie dated Lady Hope? ”

The question just exhausts you further. 

“ Who the hell is Lady Hope? ” Nancy inquires, though the question lingers on the tongue of all the older teenagers.

“ She is... Y/N... original member of HELLFIRE... it’s the character she played... you play a character in D&D... ”  Dustin drawls out an explanation to blank faces. “ I’ve explained this to you so many times... ”  Words directed to Steve who only pouted out his bottom lip in confusion with a shake of his voluptuous locks and a shrug. 

Shaking palms meet your eyes, “ I’m sorry  --- what... what is this? What are we doing here? We just--- Eddie’s alive and we’re talking about D&D? ”

“ No --- we, we feel it too. It’s just we’ve kind of experienced a lot of... things that are similar so our ability to... bounce back, for a lack of better words, is... ”  Robin starts and falls off, realizing too late that if something lacked the words then maybe it was better left unsaid. 

“ What does that even mean? Do people just sprout out of the damned ground on the regular for you all? ”

“ No, this is admittedly new — we should really just go inside. Figure things out when the others get here... ” Nancy trails, looking towards Dustin and Mike who were meant to rally the others. More unknown people… how did Eddie get caught up in any of this?

“ Byers crew will be here as soon as they can. Lucas is staying with Max. ”

“ Not surprising. ”  Erica retorted to the information Dustin relayed, a brief sadness flitting her features she so desperately wanted to appear adult.

“ El and Hop can’t come until tomorrow — ”

“ Why? ” Steve interjected, a look upon his face that screamed what could be more important than the shit that happened this evening? 

“ — and ” Mike continued, drawling out the single syllable “ gave no reason as to why. I tried to get it out of El, but she wouldn’t budge. ” Scrawny shoulders shrug with a shake of midnight colored hair, though it clearly bothered him not having an answer.

“ We should just wait until tomorrow then and get some rest tonight... together. It’s getting late... and I have a bad feeling things are just going to continue to get worse. Who knows how many restful nights we have left... ”

Robin’s comment drives you further over the edge. Cold palms from the cool spring, night digging into your eye sockets. Your brain completely rattled into a new direction every minute you spent around the others. Steve quickly rushed forward, placing hands upon your shoulders.

“ Hey... hey, we know. Believe me, I’ve been trying not to vomit for the past hour. It’s just --- with Hawkins, everything gets worse. ”

Puffy, desolated hues meet a matching pair you realized hid it better than you did. Gazing upon the others, tired face by tired face --- Dustin, Mike, Erica, Nancy, Robin --- the same glimmer of exhaustion lingered behind statuesque features; ghosts hiding among the living. 

“ Eddie didn’t die in the earthquake, did he? ”

Steve shakes his head. Dread descends upon you like a cold, winter chill. 

“ And it wasn’t an earthquake. ” Dustin says.

“ You’re gonna need to sit down for this. ”  Erica sighs, being the first to turn and head towards the Wheeler house while everyone slowly follows her steps --- each of them sharing knowing glances while yours grasped for any kind of sane, logical answer amidst an impossible sounding scenario. 

Eddie, what happened to you? What has happened to them?         

                                                      🦇  

please let me know if you enjoyed this HERE or if you have any suggestions, questions, or things you want to see !  follow the tag  #dropdeadmunson for updates !  and use it to share your thoughts too <3  also please like and reblog <3 this helps me a lot !

𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 !

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[carolmunson]

you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down. 

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery. 

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.” 

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later. 

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head. 

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere. 

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.” 

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?” 

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?” 

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.” 

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?” 

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?” 

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow. 

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on. 

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you. 

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before. 

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears. 

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough. 

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.” 

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.” 

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.” 

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.” 

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly. 

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spit. 

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.” 

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death. 

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.” 

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily. 

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.” 

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.” 

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.” 

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper. 

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge. 

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.” 

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.” 

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat. 

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes. 

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story. 

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you. 

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…” 

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two

15 days before Christmas Steve Harrington flinches when the Christmas lights strung along the arcade flicker. 

Eddie only notices because he makes a habit out of keeping an eye on questionable people when he's out and about. 

Watches Harrington recover with a little shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders, as Gareth finishes up his shift, swapping cashier positions with Jeff. 

Dustin and Lucas stick around long enough to greet Jeff as Eddie stares, before scuttling off to Harrington's car, pushing and shoving each other the whole way. 

Eddie frowns, but decides to put the whole thing out of his head. 

He doesn't need his little lamb's adoration of evil high school figures to poison his day. 

                                                            xXx

12 days before Christmas and Eddie is starting to realize Harrington is everywhere. 

There's a little holiday display the town center has put on. A temporary ice rink surrounded by dazzling lights, hot chocolate stands, and plenty of things to see. 

Wayne and Eddie, with their traditional day of Christmas shopping complete, stroll within it, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. They never buy much--can’t, but it’s still something fun for Eddie to do with his Uncle and so and he bounces about with glee as they people watch. 

A familiar shriek hits the air, and Eddie turns in time to see Mike and Dustin collide on the ice, while Lucas and his sister skate literal circles around them, laughing. 

Unable to pass up on the opportunity to tease, Eddie flies to the edge of the rink, waving his hand and demanding one of the kids do a flip. 

"A flip!? Eddie, I can't even skate a circle!" Henderson shouts, at the same time as Wheeler adds; 

“Let’s see you try and skate with these idiots!” 

“Sorry Wheeler, I think getting on the ice with you might be hazardous to my health.” 

“Shut up!” 

Delightful banter officially traded, Eddie turns to find his Uncle in a conversation with Steve Harrington. 

Grin immediately faltering into a frown, he approaches cautiously right in time to see Wayne clap Harrington on the shoulder. 

“It gets better.” Wayne says gruffly, in that tone he uses when he’s trying to give deeply emotional advice without the emotional part.  

The younger boy gave a hard nod, muttering something that might have been “Thanks.”

Eddie jerked to a stop several steps away, but close enough for Wayne to see him, to know he was done and it was time to go. 

Thankfully his Uncle picked up the signal, and made his way over, so the two of them  could finish out their lap around the town center. 

"He’s one of your classmates, right?" Wayne asked, as they turned away from the rink, Harrington back to watching the kids laugh and play around the ring. 

"Not anymore." Eddie scoffs. "That's Steve Harrington."

Wayne hums noncommittally.

"As in, the rich Harrington's.” Eddie prods, because come on everyone knew who the Harrington’s were, just as everyone delighted in rightfully shitting on them. They weren’t good people. “As in, the assholes from Loc Nora?" 

Another hum. 

Then; "People are more than their last name, Eds. You should know that."

Eddie jerks back, stung at the admonishment. 

Wayne’s not mad, never is, but Eddie recognizes his Uncle’s disappointed tone loud and clear. 

"One of the gifts you got from me was seein’ through people's bullshit.." Wayne continues, before sucking in a draw on his cigarette. "I'm surprised you didn't see through his." 

‘I don’t want to see through his!’ Is what Eddie wants to say, but keeps it to himself.

Changed the subject instead, shoulders hiked to his ears, because Harrington having some kind of claim on his new players was one thing, but his Uncle!?

He didn’t care about whatever crap the guy was going through. King Steve has been an ass for as long as Eddie had known him, the kind of bully whose downfall you cheered for. 

Sure it was petty, but guys like Harrington reveled in pettiness. 

So who cared if Eddie didn’t want to look closer at him now? Harrington wasn’t a lost lamb.

He was at best, an injured wolf, and no amount of sad looks was going to make him any safer to be around. 

                                                          xxx

 9 days till Christmas and Wheeler is having a tantrum that's delaying Hellfire's holiday oneshot.

"I don't get why he hates Christmas so much. He didn't even know Will when he disappeared!" Mike snips with his arms crossed. 

Dustin is across from him, a furious scowl on his face, as Lucas stands between, a physical barrier between the two. 

"As usual, you're talking out of your ass, Mike." Henderson spits, furious. "He was in Will's house with Jonathan and Nancy. That's reason enough!"

As if that makes any kind of sense, but then this isn’t the first argument that went into weird territory like this. Eddie’s always prided himself on pulling stories out of people, earning secrets and truths with a well trained ear and a smarter mouth. 

The freshman though, were proving to be a hell of a challenge.

Mike throws his hands in the air. "I'm just saying, we all have way more reasons to hate Christmas, but none of us are acting like the grinch!"

“I know you can only have two good thoughts a day without breaking your brain, but you're being so stupid." Dustin thunders. "Did you ever think Steve might have other reasons to hate Christmas!?”

Eddie almost groans aloud, because of course, of fucking course, this is about Harrington. 

The guy was a goddamn ghost at this point, hellbent on haunting Eddie’s entire life. 

Didn’t even have the courtesy to die first! 

"Guys." Lucas stressed, hands now firmly pressed against Mike and Dustin’s chest. “Come on, we’re wasting time. We can talk about this later.”

“Oh don’t worry about that Sinclair,” Eddie purred, making the three of them jump, as though they had forgotten they had a full ass audience in the form of the rest of the club. “I’m just docking their HP points for every minute they hold up the game.” 

“Shit!” Dustin and Milke yelled as one, scrambling to get to their chairs. 

Gareth and Jeff snicker, Grant making it known he was over their antics with a look that could have burnt gold. 

Eddie clapped his hands once, hard enough for it to echo throughout the room. “If everyone is done bickering,” He announced, slipping into his DM voice, “we can begin our tale…” 

He launches into the story he’d planned, and enjoys pulling everyone into it, all thoughts of Steve Harrington left behind.

                                              xXx

5 Days before Christmas and Eddie is panic shopping.

He’s not the one panicking, nor the one shopping, but he has a car and friends who know where he lives, so he’s woken up at an ungodly hour of the morning (10 am) by Gareth, Grant, and Henderson of all people. 

“Gareth’s sister took the car again.” Grant explains with dramatic, rolling eyes at Eddie’s exasperated face. 

“I’m sorry you planned going shopping five days before Christmas?” 

“Well--no-” Grant continues at the same time Dustin and Gareth yell protests. 

They talk over each other for a moment, loud enough to make Eddie crave coffee and the comfort of his bed. 

He runs one hand through his frizzy, bedhead hair before yanking it out and waving it around to catch his friend's attention. “Alright, I get it! You all decided to do white elephant gift thing last minute, and are now scrambling." 

"Speaking of which, you're invited." Henderson tells him with a cheeky grin. "We're doing it on Christmas Eve." 

Of course they were. 

 "Please man? It'll be fun." Gareth pleads, as Grant shoots him his patented puppy dog eyes. 

Eddie sighs. 

"I'll do it, but!" He sticks a finger in the air as grins broke out, "I'm demanding food and coffee and payment!" 

With that he retreated from the door, stomping back to his room. 

"Good coffee, too!" He hollers as he throws on clothes, happy chatter breaking out among his friends. 

Several arguments and one run to the best to-go coffee shop in town, and Eddie was following his buddies around as they wandered through downtown Hawkins. 

Since the mall had burned, shopping options had been rather limited, shops slow to reopen. 

It made it difficult to buy things last minute, but Eddie found it was actually kind of fun as Henderson explained the rules they'd all agreed on (hopefully, Gareth added, because the rules had been passed along in pieces.) 

"The goal is to get outrageous, funny stuff." Dustin explains as they browsed the local bookstore. "Nothing more than fifteen dollars, and nothing Christmas-y."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Nothing Christmas-y?" He echoes curiously. 

Dustin nods, serious. 

"Yeah. Christmas can be kinda a downer for some people. We came up with this as a way to celebrate without all the holiday stuff involved."

"Some people like Harrington?" Eddie guesses, sinking feeling in his stomach. 

There's no way Grant and Gareth would've  agreed to do a gift exchange with Steve Harrington.

Right?

Dustin sighs dramatically, whole body heaving. 

"I know you've got a weird hate-on for him, but this time of year is really hard on Steve." He snaps, exasperated. "It's not my place to talk about it outside the Party, but he doesn't deserve to deal with it on his own."

There's that word again, Party. 

Capital P implied, just as it implies that it's a group that Eddie is firmly excluded from. 

It stings as it lands, an unintentional insult that reminds Eddie that his newest little lambs have secrets they refuse to share.

Nevermind the fact that Steve is clearly included. 

Eddie collects secrets like candy, but his poking and prodding had yet to get him a solid answer on the mysterious "party." 

Rather than press, Eddie raises his hands in surrender. 

"Easy there, tiger. No offense meant." 

Full offense meant actually, but Eddie wasn't in the mood for a full blown Henderson Rant. 

Dustin narrows his eyes, but takes his words at face value. "You know, you guys would really like each other if you both just got over yourselves." 

Eddie snorts, but covers it by playfully shoving Henderson's cap down into his face. 

"When hell freezes over maybe. Now look, they have a new science fiction display!" The last part is sing-songed. 

Thoroughly distracted, Dustin lets the conversation drop, much to Eddie's relief.

(Because really him? Liking Harrington?

Not in a million freaking years.) 

                                                      xxx

 It's Christmas Eve and Eddie is staring furiously at Steve Harrington's house. 

"No one told me he was involved." He hisses angrily, knuckles white on his steering wheel. 

"Oh my god, stop being dramatic." Dustin rolls his eyes as he talks, unbuckling himself. “I told you Steve hates Christmas, so this is how we’re including him!” 

Jeff is looking equally uncomfortable, even as Lucas and Mike fall out of the van.

Gareth's car is behind him, Grant with him.

No doubt they too, are staring at the massive house in front of them in horror. 

Slowly the elder Hellfire members file out, standing in a clump as the younger members rush forward. 

They storm the door like they live in the damn place, fluttering about like moths. 

"What the hell." Jeff mutters quietly to Eddie's left. 

"Yeah guys, what the hell." Eddie repeats, shooting a glare toward Gareth and Grant. "No one mentioned this part!"

"We didn't know." Gareth defends angrily. "This was all the freshman!" 

"Are you idiots coming inside or not!?" Robin Buckley of all people yells, appearing in the now open front door. 

Or rather, one of the front doors, because Harrington is rich enough to have two. 

"Shit." Eddie mutters. 

"It's not weird if we just--leave, right?" Grant mumbles, shuffling from foot to foot. 

"It's very weird if we leave." Jeff responds flatly. 

A flare of anger ignites in Eddie. It comes from Steve Harrington invading this entire holiday, and Eddie finally has a chance to catch him off guard.

He'd be damned if he let it pass by. 

"Brave faces men." He says, tossing his hair back with a jerk of his hand. "We're storming the castle."

Struts forward determinedly, present in hand, fully planning on making Harrington as uncomfortable as he had made Eddie.

Unintentional, or not. 

                                                xXx

It's the day before Crapmas, the one holiday Steve hates, and he's somehow been sweet talked into hosting the kids white elephant exchange.

Which was fine--they were welcome in his home anytime and they knew it--but they'd conveniently forgotten to mention this was a Hellfire Club event.

As in, Eddie "the freak" Munson and his crew of three other dudes whose names Steve doesn't know (but who probably knew his.) 

"I dunno man, I wasn't the best person to a lot of people." He worried at Dustin this morning, when the brat had sprung it on him. "This probably isn't the best idea."

"Please Steve!? It's too late to change the venue and you promised you'd do a holiday thing with each of us!" Dustin whined on the other end.

At least he had the forethought to not actually use the word "Christmas." 

"You did everyone else's, you can't skip out on mine!"

Everyone else's was simple shit like taking them ice skating, or shopping, or making gingerbread houses.

Not hosting a whole ass party with four people who likely hated his guts--and for good reason.

Which Steve repeated to Dustin, staring vacantly at his carefully decorated house.

Once again, his parents had called in designers to come keep appearances, sending along their usual message that they may or may not be home depending upon various work factors.

"We just never know anymore with your father's job honey." His mother slurred on the phone, four years ago. "We'll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise."

Like more money on his credit card could fix years of ruined holidays. 

(At least them being gone was better than forcing Steve to perform in their horrible holiday parties. Dressing him up like a doll, gathering drunk adults around the piano to make him play horrid Christmas songs. 

Showing him off like a well trained dog, complete with finger snaps to signal him to move on to his next trick. ) 

“Steeeeeeve-!”

As always, Steve crumbled under Dustin's badgering.

"Fine, fine!" He’d said. “You're responsible for letting them know me and Robin are gonna be there though!” 

Robin, who’d been laying on his couch, poked her head up at her name. 

“They’ll know!” Dustin had promised. 

Then abruptly hung up, like the brat he was.

Now four half-terrified, half-murderous looking dudes were staring Steve down as they awkwardly stood in his living room, and he had the wondrous realization that Dustin had probably sprung this on them too. 

‘Little. Asshole.’ Steve thinks, but plasters the best non threatening smile on his face. 

“Hey, uh, guys.” He says with an awkward little wave.

He gets three sets of glares and one impressive looking spooked face back. 

Mike and Lucas were already tackling the snacks he’d put out, cheeks full of chocolates and popcorn. Dustin was re-arranging furniture to his liking, and Robin, in-between her four classmates and Steve, glanced at both sides and rolled her eyes. 

“Steve, go pull the pizza out of the oven. You lot, come sit down, you look like you’re about to bolt.” Robin snaps, making everyone sans the kids jump. 

Happy for the distraction, Steve quickly retreats to his kitchen, overhearing Robin try and get the elder Hellfire members to identify themselves. 

Chatter fills the room, slow at first, but it becomes more fluid with Robin’s ruthless prodding. The pizza ends up needing another five minutes, which suits Steve since he hadn’t had time to pull out drinks. 

He’s bent at the waist, pulling out various cans when Dustin loudly announces his presence by barging into the fridge and smacking Steve’s ass with it. 

With a yelp, cans fly everywhere as Steve drops them, bouncing off the floor and rolling across the kitchen. 

“Henderson!” He gripes, standing up as the kid grins at him. He has all his teeth now but the smile will probably always feel cute to Steve. By-product of knowing the little shit for far too long. 

“Sorry Steve.” He says dismissively, before stepping aside with a dramatic flair. “Now stop being a total housewife for a second and meet Eddie!” 

The sound of cans still rolling ringing in his ears, Steve finds himself staring into Munson’s eyes. 

Who looks all too delighted to have seen Steve fumble. 

“Thought you were a jock, Harrington. What happened to those reflexes?” He smirks, and Steve feels his face flush red. 

“Yeah well,” Steve says, hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck, “Turns out hanging around kids kinda ruins them.” 

This is clearly not the response Eddie was expecting. 

Nor is he expecting Dustin to loudly announce that; “Steve once played a D&D campaign with us, but he totally ate it as a cleric. You should give him some tips, Eddie!” 

Now it’s Steve’s turn to smirk, because Munson looks completely thrown. 

“Is…that a joke?” Eddie asks carefully, looking between the two of them. 

Dustin shakes his head. “Nope! You can ask Lucas’s sister, she was there.” 

He then glances down at his watch, and gives the biggest fake gasp Steve has ever heard (and Steve once sat through Will and Mike acting in a play for their English class, while Nancy and Jonathan silently suffered second-hand embarrassment next to him.) 

“Oh shit, I forgot something! Be right back!” 

“Language!” Steve calls, as Dustin shoots out of the kitchen. “And be careful not to trip on the cans!” 

Munson, who looks like he’s taken a wrong turn and ended up in the Twilight Zone, stares at him. “Did you seriously play a cleric?” 

“Weave Healington was a brave man who sacrificed himself in a time of need.” Steve tells him seriously, just to see the guy’s reaction. “May he rest in peace.” 

“Weave Healington.” Eddie deadpans. 

Steve, keeping his face blank by the skin of his teeth, nods. 

“Please tell me that wasn’t the pizza you just dropped.” Robin says as she flies into the kitchen, interrupting Eddie’s face rapidly cycling through different emotions with a badly wrapped present in her hands. 

“Stevie boy dropped the pop, Buckley Bird.” Eddie says, recovering quickly. “I would not recommend drinking out of anything currently laying on the floor.” 

“Noted.” Robin says, pausing to stare at the cans scattered about. “Hey Steve, did you wrap your weird eyeball thingie? Or do you want me to do it? I dunno how long the kids are gonna wait.” 

Like a dog hearing a whistle, Munson’s whole head tips sideways. “Weird eyeball thingie?” 

“Oh my god, it’s this--I don’t even know how to describe it. Like an alternative ouija board? It says it’s a “fortune telling game.” Robin makes the quotation marks with her hands. “It has this giant, ugly eyeball in the middle.”

She leans forward conspiratorially to add; “It glows in the dark.” 

 “Oh my god, Steve, your gift is Ka-Bala!?” Dustin says, bouncing up like a damn jack-in-the-box. “I’ve always wanted that game!” 

“Robin!” Steve hisses, because of course she’d announce that right as Dustin would pop back up. 

“Oh shit.” Robin says, shooting him an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your gift.” 

Steve sighs dramatically, but keeps a small grin on his face so Robin knows he’s not really upset. “Guess I’ll have to go find a new one--which means your punishment is that you and Dustin are now in charge of the pizza. And also picking up all the cans.” 

“Curses.” Robin says flatly, before breaking out into a grin herself, while Dustin whines. 

“It’s probably for the best.” Eddie says, though the guy sounds weirdly like someone desperately off balance and scrambling to fix it. “You know you weren’t supposed to pick cool gifts, right Harrington?” 

Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “Cool? It’s kinda weird. It’s disgustingly neon green. And Robin forgot to mention it’s a board game.”  

He pushes Dustin’s hat down as he walks by, and laughs aloud when Eddie follows up by knocking it right off Henderson’s head. 

“Hey!” Dustin squeaks, hands darting to cover his hat hair.

He’s ignored. 

“Neon green, giant eyeball, fortune telling board game?” Eddie sums up. “Yeah might have to murder Buckley because that sounds rad as hell.” 

Steve snorts as he walks down the hall and up the stairs, somehow unsurprised to find the metalhead is following. 

“You want it, Munson?” He asks as they hit his second floor, Steve aiming for his fathers office. “You’re welcome to it, I never even opened the thing.” 

“What do you want for it?” Eddie asks, following Steve right through the door, before stopping dead. 

A typical reaction to someone walking into his fathers stuffy, stupidly expensive office. Like the rest of Steve’s house, it looks as though it was transported straight out of a magazine. Everything is shiny and worse--unused. 

“Nothing, man.” Steve said, standing in front of said desk now with his arms crossed. “I mean it, it’s still got the plastic on it. You’re gonna have to sneak it by Dustin though.” He turned to smile at Eddie, feeling like they were sharing a joke, “He might physically fight you for it.” 

For some reason this made a hell of a blush streak across Munson’s cheeks, before the guy coughed and swung into the office behind Steve. 

“He can try.” Eddie managed finally, voice a shade higher than normal. 

As he always did to social things he didn’t understand, Steve just ignored the change. 

“Why’d you never play it?” Eddie asks, as Steve scans the shelves of stupidly expensive knick-knacks. 

“Someone trying to impress my parents got it for me one Christmas.” He says with a shrug. “They wouldn’t let me open it then, and I forgot all about it until I was digging for something else.” 

“They don’t care about it now I take it?” 

Steve can’t help the snort that leaves his throat. “They’d have to be around to care.” Then to get the conversation back on track, says; “Okay, I’m thinking the shitty World’s Best Boss trophy.” 

He points to the gaudy thing, all shiny from the ass kissing the person who’d purchased it had done in hopes Steve’s dad would give him a raise. Or not fire him, Steve never knew which it was. 

 "I take it your dad’s not gonna be here to care that it’s gone?” Eddie asks, walking up to stand next to Steve. 

 Another grin appears on Steve’s face, shared conspiratorially with Eddie when he looks over to the metalhead. “That’s my gift to myself man. I’m gonna see how long it takes before he notices it’s gone.” 

Eddie whistled, quiet enough to not hurt Steve’s ears. “Fuck the old man, huh?” 

“Absolutely.” Steve agreed, stepping forward to fish the trophy down. 

“Gotta say man, you’re surprising me. I didn’t expect such a thing from you. Especially since Henderson told me you hate Christmas.” 

Steve shrugged as he turned back around, new white elephant gift in hand. “Yeah it’s a thing I’m trying.” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not hating Christmas?”  

“Not being a dick. Which,” He shook the trophy, “--means sticking it to the biggest dick in my life. I think I’ll always hate Christmas.” 

Eddie snorted a laugh, then looked startled, like he hadn’t expected that reaction out of himself. 

Steve grinned at it. 

“You uh--you know if you ever want to talk about the hating Christmas thing, I think I get it. Or can relate. Sorta.” Eddie says, and it’s so stilted that it takes Steve a moment to figure out what he’s offering. 

He almost asks him if he’s kidding, but thinks better of it. 

“I think I’m less cut up about it then the kids are but, for what it’s worth--thanks.”

Doesn’t think he’ll ever take anyone up on that offer, epically not someone who doesn’t know that an entire hell dimension exists under them but--

It’s nice. To have someone recognize that Steve hates it. That there are reasons he might.

He recalls suddenly that the man at the ice rink who’d also seen through his melancholy was in fact, Eddie’s Uncle, and briefly wonders if this just runs through the family. 

“Come on, I gotta wrap this and then get back downstairs before Robin and Dustin burn the house down.” He says instead, because he doesn’t want to get in his own head about it. Not tonight, when he knows the kids have gone out of their way in an effort to celebrate the holiday without making him feel like he was celebrating it. “Or worse, they start the white-elephant without us.” 

“After you, my liege.” Eddie says with a dramatic bow. 

Steve pauses awkwardly for a moment, before giving the world's most careful curtsey back. 

(Laughs loudly  as Eddie almost falls on his face in surprise, before the older man scrambles to chase after Steve, out of the office.) 

                                               xXx

It’s 12:00 pm, making it officially Christmas day, and Eddie Munson is rapidly re-evaluating his entire life.

Well perhaps not all of it, just the parts with Steve Harrington.

They’re playing the best white-elephant game Eddie has ever participated in, a cutthroat competition that’s filled the house with shrieks and laughter. 

Henderson’s gift, cat-paw shaped mittens with “You’ve gotta be kitten me” scrawled on the back is the current winning prize, with Mike’s salt and pepper shakers made in the shape of two pigs “porking” being a close second.

The worst gift is a tie between the eye searing scarf Gareth’s mother had created (complete with bedazzled gems) and an abomination of a stuffed animal Grant insists is an ET doll.

It looked like a deformed llama sat on its ass, and Lucas already scared Mike with it twice. 

Eddie’s own gift, ( a mug with Tom Selleck posing shirtless) was jokingly fought over by Robin and Steve to the bitter end, while Gareth was defending the blue circular cookie tin (the kind that mothers shoved needles and sewing threads into, but shockingly enough actually held real cookies) with his life. 

Literally at one point, as he laid over it while Jeff tackled him. 

Eddie himself had gone for the gold, wanting the trophy Steve had procured. He too, was defending it aggressively against Dustin, who was currently stuck with Lucas’s gift (one of his sister’s pet rock creations she’d apparently tried to sell to her classmates. 

It was hideous.)

Now stretched out on his bed, legs in the air as he stares at the Ka-Bala game Steve had snuck into his arms with a wink, Eddie finds he’s the guy’s managed to go from haunting his whole life, to trying to haunt his heart. 

Made him want to do the thing he’d angrily been against this entire time--take a look at the guy closer. 

See past his bullshit, at the person hiding underneath. 

Find out what Steve was talking to his Uncle about, and why his house looked like a Christmas themed tomb. 

Why his parents were gone. What the hell made him he pick a cleric in D&D. How he met the kids and why Dustin thought the sun shines out of his ass. 

But most of all?

Why the hell had Steve Harrington put a note on the back of the Ka-Bala game? 

‘Hope you like the game..’  It read, with the dorkiest little smiley face. ‘I wouldn’t mind hanging out again.’

Below it was a number, and Eddie felt himself go red in the face. 

Steve Harrington was a fucking mystery, but one Eddie himself, had been personally invited to solve. 

‘Merry Christmas to me I guess.’ He thought, and tried very, very hard not to kick his legs in the air. 

[myosotisa]

i'm starvin, darlin - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader

ǁ summary: Since coming back from the Upside Down, Eddie has slowly been changing. Each week seems to bring something different and he finds himself doing things he never thought he would.

ǁ tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nickname used (sweetheart). mentions of season 4 final episode and what occurred. canon divergent (every one lived). it's not smut, but smut adjacent. it's sexy

ǁ word count: 2k

ǁ notes: i sat down and wrote an entire one shot in one sitting again. and i am also not going to edit this one. and i do not feel bad for lowercase hozier title, so don't even try me like that. if y'all really like it, i can add a part 2 with smut, but this is it for now

-

There are still a lot of things Eddie is having to come to terms with since the night his heart stopped.

That night in the Upside Down, laying in Dustin’s arms, he had died. Without a doubt. Dustin had felt his pulse and there was nothing there. And though he didn’t know CPR, had no idea what he was doing, Dustin had laid him down on the ground and started to beat against his chest. Like maybe if he hit hard enough and in the right place, his friend would come back to life.

Somehow it worked. No one bothered to ask why.

But they all knew something was wrong two days later. Eddie, barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, had been dragged back to the surface and hidden away in the RV they had stolen. Someone watched him round the clock as they debated what to do. If they should try to get him to a hospital, how they’d be able to explain it. But then something miraculous began to happen:

Eddie started healing. All on his own. Way faster than any person should have been able to.

His skin stitched itself back together faster than should be possible, leaving less scar tissue than it should have behind. His chest began to rise and fall in more steady breaths, his heart beat getting stronger, bones resetting themselves with slow and quiet creaks as he laid in that RV bed and slept. He’d been asleep since they brought him back.

The day he woke up, his body had almost entirely healed itself. From the brink of death, having even stepped over to the other side, and now he was almost back to before it ever happened. It had only been a week.

Everyone rejoiced, refusing to question anything weird that may have happened in the Upside Down and just thinking they finally won for once. Max had casts on both her arms but was otherwise unharmed, Steve had recovered from his own injuries at the rate of a normal human and now sported a scar around his throat that he sometimes felt self conscious about. Dustin was on crutches with his broken leg for another month at least. Eddie was alive and whole and back to himself. They’d made it, everyone had made it.

He began to notice more and more things that were different as the days went on.

The first thing he caught on to was that he had the capability to be strong. Way stronger than someone who had recently been bed ridden should be. It was like in the comic books with the Hulk – if he wasn’t paying attention or if he got too emotional, he could easily break anything. A walkman destroyed, a ceramic bowl reduced to shards, a metal pipe bent beyond fixing, the wooden handle of a hammer shattered in his grip. The boys were all present for the hammer incident and sighted it as one of the coolest things they had ever seen. They swarmed him, asking him how he did it, what else he could do, how strong he really was.

Only the other teens, Steve, Nancy, Robin, you, started to look a little bit closer.

When the next few changes became apparent, it was clear something unnatural had happened to Eddie that night in the Upside Down. He could feel other people's feelings. They brushed against his consciousness like ghosts whenever he looked at someone. Happiness like warm rays of sunshine, fear like a shuddering gust of wind, anger like hot coals pressed to his skin. It wasn’t a conscious effort – in fact, there were a lot of times he wished he could turn it off. Whenever he looked too hard at someone, it’s like his brain adjusted to a different frequency and their emotions reached out to him, no matter what they were. And he didn’t struggle to make sense of the sensations like he thought he might, his brain completed the dots easily at first, but then he began to recognize them consciously. It was certainly useful sometimes, especially when it came to you, but it still felt a bit invasive. When he’d explained it to a few people, he assured he tried to ignore it whenever he could, but sometimes he couldn’t help but react. The icey spike of terror he felt when you woke up next to him from a nightmare. The velvet comfort that enveloped you and him when he held you after.

The first time he spoke into someone’s mind it was an accident. Steve had whipped toward him, breath catching in his chest, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp. Eddie felt it like ice down his spine. “Did you… You did that?” He’d asked breathlessly. It had been so shocking, Eddie wasn’t even sure what’d he said, or projected, or whatever it was.

“I - I don’t know.”

Steve stepped closer, suddenly looking determined. “Try to do it again.”

It was a slithering feeling when he dipped back into Steve’s mind. Like sliding his way in between cracks to a place he didn’t belong, seeping into the forefront of his thoughts to plant one of his own. It made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and wrong. But it worked. Steve explained it as having a thought like his own but it came out in Eddie’s voice instead. An intrusive thought but not an uncomfortable one.

As with all of the other discoveries, a meeting was called. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, El, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and you. Steve did most of the talking while Eddie sat and looked at his hands. These meetings, while he acknowledged were important for everyone to keep track of his progression into… something, it still made him feel a bit like a zoo animal in a cage. A magician with a magic trick. All the boys immediately begged him to do it to them, they wanted to see what it felt like, wanted to see how easy it was for him to do it. 

Nancy and Jonathan had shooed them, catching on to how overwhelmed Eddie was, their excitement and curiosity battering against him like a whipping wind of too much. Once it was just the older people in the room, you crossed over to where he was, kneeled down in front of him, reached out to hold his hand.

Pity felt like someone was pissing in his pants.

“Are you okay?”

How could he say no? How could he admit that he was scared, confused, and feeling more and more like a monster with the passing days? “It’s just a lot. To deal with.”

Your smile was pained as you pushed yourself up onto your calves and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His came around your waist on instinct, the breath feeling like a wheeze in his lungs as he held tight. Face pressed into your hair with his eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled deep in relief.

That was when the next thing changed.

It was a desire. A need. One he couldn’t place a name to. Like he was desperately missing something, desperately craving something and he didn’t know it was. It crawled under his skin like ants and sent him scratching for a feeling that couldn’t be satiated. No matter what he tried: eating, drinking, masturbating, exercising. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It got stronger day after day, his mind focusing more and more on the void it left behind until it was all he could think about.

Steve threw a little get together at his house once a month or so. Just time for everyone to get together, eat some food, listen to music, play board games, maybe watch a movie. This was the first get together since his hunger began.

He was sitting on the couch on his own, decompressing. While normally he was right in the middle of everything, today it was a lot to handle when he was hyperfocused on the crawling beneath his skin. He had his legs spread wide, hands resting on them, leaning deep into the cushions of the couch in Steve’s basement. While he had initially tried to close his eyes, hang his head back, maybe stare at the ceiling – he couldn’t stop his attention from drifting back to you.

You and Eddie had been friends for a long time. Understandably, you’d gotten much closer after the events in March. The two of you had helped each other through hard nights of nightmares, panic attacks in parking lots, flashbacks in public. You’d been a great comfort to him since he came back. But today your laugh sounded like music. The smell of your perfume hit him even across the room. Each emotion crashed over him in waves, pushing and receding like the tide as he tried to get off your frequency, unentangle himself from you before he did something he didn’t mean to do.

I’m starving.

Your back stiffened, the grip on your plastic cup getting just a bit tighter. A moment of fear quickly shifted to mellowed surprise, curiosity. He’d never spoken into your mind before, hadn’t meant to do so now. But you still shifted, your eyes slowly coasting across the room until you caught sight of him on the couch.

A shock of electricity shot down his spine as you made eye contact, his hands tightening over his thighs in reaction. Unsure exactly what to do, he settled for projecting again. Slithered his way into your ears and settled a respectful distance from the area he’d never been brave enough to venture. Sorry, he offered with a wince, didn’t mean to.

What he didn’t expect was the utter flood of feeling that hit him next. Like a drip of warm honey settling into the space between his hips, pooling there in a subtle swirl as the warmth from it started to diffuse outward. You realized you’d been staring and your eyes flit away, but the feeling didn’t cease. In fact, it only got stronger. Your lower lip caught on your teeth as you shifted between your feet. Things that would be completely normal to see, wouldn’t have anyone looking twice, but Eddie could. Your desire. The want that poured from you like water when your eyes first met his.

Was this the first time? Had something changed between you and him? Or had he just never caught on before?

The ants beneath his skin began to vibrate as he narrowed in on the feeling, on you. Like the part of him that had slithered into your thoughts was now bearing down, digging in for purchase, wanting to stay awhile and feed on this new feeling, what you were offering. It didn’t even occur to him what he was doing, how invasive it might be, how wrong he normally would have felt. All he knew is that it felt like licking at the thing he’d been craving for so long and he was helpless to chase after it.

Sweetheart. It came easy as breathing now, teeth sunk into your consciousness from where you stood across the room. You whirled on him again, another flood of warmth hitting him deep as you leaned your hip against the counter you were standing next to and focused on him. What’s got you so worked up?

He couldn’t even consider how bold he was suddenly being, the fear that he might ruin this friendship well out of his grasp. Especially when your embarrassment spiked along with the want, the pool of warmth now suddenly coming to life to have a heartbeat of its own. Your eyes widened, shifting on your feet again as you broke eye contact. It only took a few moments before you couldn’t help but look back at him again. The buzzing settled further, now like a purr beneath his skin. It was bearable as long as you kept your eyes on him.

You wanna do something about it?

-

-

-

-

-

thanks for reading, please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!

[obligatedart]

Made a part two of my bloodbank!steve duo. If you want to snag the pair I do have an Inprnt shop (link in bio)

[flowercrowngods]

Kas!Eddie where Steve uses positive reinforcement to help him feel like less of a monster. As Eddie becomes more human, the rewards get steamier. cw: explicit (ish??)

"Oh, baby," Steve coos, cradling Eddie's cheek and tilting up his chin to meet those beautiful eyes. Blown and black, the red glow beneath them pulsating in time with his heavy breathing.

This magnificent creature, more Kas than Eddie now, is strong enough to tear into the world and rip it to shreds. But always so docile for him. Always so lovely. Steve licks his lips as he trails his gaze down from wide eyes to plush lips, a trickle of blood drying on his pale skin that always seems to gleam in when Steve touches him like this. Tenderly. Lovingly. And with promise in his fingertips.

"You're no monster," he promises, daring him to disagree. He watches with fascination as a pointed tongue slowly, carefully licks up the remnants of Steve's blood. "No, you're no monster," Steve coos again, tilting Kas's face up higher to trail his lips along his jaw, kissing his way towards his chin and up the trail of wetness left behind.

Has whimpers, ducking his head just a fraction to chase Steve's lips and ask for a kiss, but Steve pulls back with a chuckle low in his throat, his grip on Kas shifting down to his throat as he moves in, hovering above him.

It shouldn't be possible, because his physical form has several inches on Steve, but something about him is always so small in Steve's hold. Like he's molding himself to Steve's figure to be so, so perfect for him.

He hums as he almost lets their lips touch, aware that he's driving Kas wild with it, and thrilled to have him like this. To hold him, hand around his throat, and tell him, "You're my good boy, hm? You're my good, good boy, isn't that right?"

Another whimper, and Kas shifts against him. Not to move in for a kiss, but to grind against him, rubbing his half hard cock into Steve's leg.

Steve chuckles again, a wave of fondness overcoming him as Kas takes what he wants. What he needs. Rubbing off against him were weeks and months ago, he would stand still until the shaking started, and Steve would have to bring him from the edge with gentle touch and loving words.

He trails one hand down to his ass to help him, to take control and give him a better angle. The effect is immediate as Kas lets out a guttural groan and pants, moaning around the syllables of his name.

"Yeah, you're doing so good, baby, taking what you need. You're so good. So good for me."

Kas nods, leaning their foreheads together as he loses himself in the delicate friction, and Steve finally relents. He ducks his head and claims those lips, moaning as Kas's sharp fangs catch his lip, drawing more blood and adding to the mess on their lips.

His resolve breaks when Kas's moans rise in pitch and frequency, knowing this is not enough for him. Knowing he wants to give him more. Steve reaches down, past the thin fabric of sweats Kas is wearing, and finds his magnificent cock, hard and leaking for him.

Always, always for him. They moan in unison as Steve begins stroking him, sucking on his tongue in time with the movement of his hands, rendering Kas almost motionless as he loses himself in the pleasure.

One day, Steve things, he'll have him writhing on his bed, hand fisted in his sheets, tearing them to shreds as Steve fucks into him with slow deliberation. Fucking the monster out of his memory and leaving only human remains, cock dumb and high on it. His name falling from those lips, blood-smeared and plump, the only thing these walls will hear aside from Good boy, and You're so good for me, and Fuck yourself on my cock, baby.

He'll take his time.

Soon.

Tonight, he doesn't get the luxury of taking his time as Kas grows desperate against him, coming with a keen as Steve bites down on his bottom lip and pulls.

"So good, baby," Steve pants as he strokes him through it, milking from him every last drop before bringing his hand up to those lips, kiss-swollen and blood red as they close around his fingers, gratefully licking up the come Steve feeds him.

That sight alone is almost enough for him to come in his pants, too, especially when Kas looks at him like that, pulling off his fingers with a slurping sound. Looking at him with hungry, hungry eyes that were made to destroy the world and rewrite history.

And yet all they do is give. And build. And smile, as he falls to his knees and pulls open Steve's belt, swallowing his cock to the hilt, massaging him with his fingers, his tongue, and vibrations that run through Steve's whole body until he, too, comes with a drawn-out groan.

He pulls Kas to his feet, combing his hair out of his sweat-slick forehead and having him meet his eyes with a gentler hold on his chin this time. "Say it."

Kas hesitates for just two seconds before a smile blooms on his face and he ducks his chin a little. "Good," he says. "I'm a good boy."

Steve hums around a smile himself, drawing a nonsensical pattern into the overheated skin of his cheek. "Whose?"

"Yours."

nonnie asked, i felt inspired. might turn this into a Thing.

[ryan-waddell11]

I need him in a way that’s concerning to feminism. I’m just looking at his side profile and I’ve lost my mind.

[daffodilsm]

                                   𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 !                                       ɟlɐɥ ɐ ⅋ oʍʇ ɹǝʇdɐɥɔ

pairing: eddie munson  x  female  reader  trigger warnings: mentions of death, grief, ptsd, blood, and gore tags: kas!eddie, canon adjacent, lovers to strangers, strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers again  summary: seeing eddie alive brings back painful memories and a searing, heavy guilt in robin buckley.    word count: 1841 status: ongoing  read on ao3: here ! masterlist:   🦇

                                           𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲

Robin’s breath is stuck firmly in the midst of their throat, hands trembling as they try and fail to keep a hold of Dustin’s shoulders. The young boy thrashing against Steve’s chest, a colliding of fists and arms trying to reach past towards to the remnants of Eddie behind him. Her vision becomes blurred with tears filled of memories so closely resembling what was happening now. Crystalline hues squeeze shut,  desperately not wanting to see the reality that was playing out before her. But she saw him. Long, curly and unwashed strands held back by a black bandana. The same HELLFIRE shirt, covered in blood, just as they had last seen, upon his chest. It was the eyes, however, that shook their very core. Puppy dog, brown hues now a bright red. 

There was no way. Robin couldn’t believe it. She had checked his pulse. Steve had tried and failed CPR. Eddie was dead. A hundred percent dead. This was Vecna’s doing. A trick or a vision, as the others had seen before... right ?

“ I’m no vision, Buckley... ”

The whisper against their ear forcing their glossy eyes open in a panic. A yelp ripping through their throat as those cold, red eyes stared only inches from their face. That same scream silenced by a fist around their throat before the tips of their toes lost solid footing and the air flowed beneath their body until slamming back onto the ground. 

Soft, wet grass of the cemetery was replaced with hard dirt. Brush strokes of blues and oranges in the sky, washed away with black ink and splatters of red. The Upside Down. Robin clambers to their elbows in a fit of clumsy fright. Whimpers spilling from their lips as they search for Steve, Y/N --- anyone to stop this sudden nightmare. Something comes into view, and her eyes squint briefly, before widening at the horror. 

“ Eddie ! ”  She cries, as demobat after demobat descends upon his flailing frame. An endless sea of wings circling him in a hellish, dark spiral --- the only sprays of color being his blood... the only sound filling the space being his dying screams.

Robin cries out once more, fumbling to their hands and knees, pushing away dirt as she begins to crawl near. A heavy boot stomping in the middle of their back pinning them to the ground.

“ Watch. ”

And she did with quiet sobs and a hand out stretched. Demobats continued tearing at his flesh; chewing and digging into his sides --- stealing the life of the young Eddie Munson. Scream after scream of the young man panging their ears in chilling chords,  far different from the melody Robin had once heard him play...  the night this had happened... the night he had died. 

“ Stop... please, stop it ! ”  Eyes squeeze shut once more as Robin cannot dare to watch him die. Seeing him there, Dusting huddled over his body while Steve and Nancy carried him away as the Earth shattered beneath them, had been hard enough. The blood upon his face and his eyes... those eyes, empty and lifeless already haunted her sleep. Seeing it how it happened --- Robin cries again. 

“ But it’s my favorite part. ”  A fist decorated with cold metal grips their short strands, dragging them up to watch the finale. 

Robin this time seeing herself, hunched over Eddie’s frame with slumped shoulders and wet eyes. They remembered every detail.  

                                                    🦇

They first remembered the frantic rush of Steve running, already distraught with belief that Max was dead, and needing --- more than anything, to know that Dustin was not. Nancy was just behind him while Robin had to focus on keeping up, their throat and limbs sore from the vines that had nearly crushed the life out of all of them. She remembered Steve slamming into Dustin, his arms wrapped firmly around the younger boy as his sobs explained what had happened. 

The four of them slide onto the dirt, surrounding the freak who wasn’t as everyone had believed. Steve had  pressed against his chest in rhythmic pounding, giving puffs of air into his mouth, hoping to revive. Minutes that felt like hours passing before Nancy has placed a hand upon his shoulder, whispering to let him go. Robin, remembering the wetness upon her shoulder, as she held Dustin, eyes frantically keeping watch on the gaping orange cliff that sprung though Eddie’s, now destroyed, trailer. 

Then the fight, that nearly severed the bond between her best friend and who was pretty much his younger brother, ensuing --- the decision to leave Eddie’s body causing a rift between the group. Robin didn’t want to leave Eddie behind, but had finally agreed with Steve and Nancy that it’d be too difficult and dangerous to return it back to Hawkins. Robin still believed that Dustin hasn’t yet forgiven any of them, as she watched Nancy and Steve forcefully drag him out of the Upside Down. 

Robin had fallen down once more next to Eddie, his eyes haunting her as they bore into her own but couldn’t see. Before finally, trembling and gentle fingertips, reach and shutter his brown hues from the horrors they endured. Robin closing his eyes with a whimper before running after and away --- leaving the Upside Down, Vecna, and the body that had been Eddie Munson, behind. 

                                                      🦇

“ Do you know what it feels like... to be left like road kill? Used and forgotten? ”   Eddie’s harsh whisper tutting against their ear. 

“ N-n-no, we... we didn’t have a choice. ”

“ No... choice? And if it had been her? Or Wheeler? Or him? ”

Glinting blue eyes were forced to watch as Eddie’s lifeless body shifted. Demobats falling once more from the sky to attack and kill the new face that laid upon the ground... one with bright, reddish-orange hair. 

“ No ! ” Robin scream as blood and flesh sprayed onto Vicki’s face, before shifting once more. Nancy’s face now screaming in pain, tearing at the bats, helpless as they devoured her alive. Before finally, it shifted to Steve. 

Eddie’s fist in their hair the only thing keeping them standing as another gravelly, scream left Robin’s throat burning raw. Steve thrashing upon the ground, chest bearing open in gashes of crimson, before a tail wrapped firmly around his neck and lifted Steve into the air.

“ Eddie, please ! Stop this, stop !  I’m sorry, please. ”

A beat hung in the air. Everything seeming to freeze until,  “ No. ”  A crack resounding in the air, Steve’s lifeless body falling with a thud to the ground. 

A breathless scream couldn’t force itself this time. Robin nearly collapsing to the ground before hard, freezing hands grip their shoulders and throw them across the ground. Robin rolling onto their back with the realization that they could not move, nor blink, or even breathe. 

“ And if it had been you ? ”

Searing, unimaginable pain dug into their sides. A demobat perching on  top  of Robin’s chest before plunging it’s fangs deep into her neck. Draining both the blood and life straight from their veins. 

Just as it had begun, it ceased though the pain lingered burning red on her every inch. Silence emitting throughout this purgatory Vecna must have created as her throat felt swollen shut. 

“ I never would have left you, ”  Eddie spoke above the crunching of his boots in the dirt, stepping closer and closer to Robin’s unmoving frame. Slowly he came into view, Robin finally, without choice, staring into the eyes she had once closed. 

His once soft features were hardened with shadows hanging deeply under his eyes, contrasting significantly against his now pale complexion.

Why are you doing this? Robin’s mind raced, unable to speak or move her lips.

A single tear, one of blood, rolled down his cheek. A pale tongue reaching to lick it away, sharp peaks exposing themself from beneath plump lips. 

“ Because you are guilty. ”  Eddie spoke, reaching forward and rubbing calloused fingertips down Robin’s face; closing her eyes. 

                                                           🦇

“ What the hell is going on ?!? ” 

Robin’s eyes flash open, the cemetery back into view. She was alive. Steve was alive. More importantly, Eddie was alive. And he was right. Robin did feel guilty and more so, now than ever, regretted leaving Eddie’s body behind. They had thought about him constantly. It ate her alive day and night... keeping the secret of what happened from the world. That Eddie wasn’t a killer but a hero, who died to save the town that hated him. Nothing hurting worse than having watched his uncle bury an empty grave, never knowing the truth, lost in pain, and Robin knowing she could have relieved him of it. 

“ Robin, I’m kind of busy ! ”  Steve struggled against Dustin, leaving Robin to console you as the vision Eddie had shown her still pounded within her chest.

“ Y/N,  I - I ”  Robin stumbled over her words, a hand reaching up to touch the side of her throat, where two small divots presented in her flesh. 

“ You what !? Huh !? You... you let me believe he was dead ! That he was here, ”  your hands point angrily to the empty grave beneath your feet,  “  rotting and gone ! ”

“ We thought he was dead... we --- he wasn’t breathing --- ”

“ You were with him? ”  Your body shaking in anguish and fury, devastation and confusion. “ You --- he said you left him for dead. ”

Erica interjects, stepping between the two of you. “ There’s a lot you don’t know, okay? It’s very complicated and --- seriously look around. You think any of us expected what just happened? ”

Your hues scatter between the other four individuals. Robin looked as if she had been dragged through hell and back, Dustin and Steve were settled upon the ground, huddled together with whispers quietly muttered back and forth, and Erica, though standing firmly, had hands trembling at her side. 

“ Then explain.”  You demanded, mouth dry and heart heavy.

“ We will. At Mike’s ! ”  Erica said this pointedly, turning to stare at the others. All of whom looked up and nodded in silent agreement. “ Dustin... ”  he sniffled, eyes red in a blurry haze,  “ you should radio everyone. Mike, Hopper, my brother... we need all hands on deck for this shit show. ”

Time moved slowly as everyone gathered their strength and moved towards the car, gathering back in, far more changed than they had been fifteen minutes previously. Robin, coming in last. Their eyes staring heavily at Eddie’s grave through the side mirror.

“ Because you are guilty. ”

They all were. And your reaction, along with the vision, made it more clear to Robin that they had made the wrong choice. And Eddie, unforgiving, was coming after them all.

                                                       🦇  

please let me know if you enjoyed this HERE or if you have any suggestions, questions, or things you want to see !  follow the tag  #dropdeadmunson for updates !  and use it to share your thoughts too <3  also please like and reblog <3 this helps me a lot !

𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 !

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[wormdebut]

Growing Pains

A little Drabble for the Stranger Things Writers Guild.

Rated a hard T (we all know where this is going let’s be so for real.) | Word Count 242 | Prompt growing pains

——

In retrospect, Steve should be scared. He should be terrified.

-

He had settled into bed tonight, content to stare at his blank walls as he does every night, since—everything.

He found himself zoned out, thinking about the myriad of ‘what ifs’ that so frequently plagued his mind these days.

What if he hadn’t left Dustin and Eddie alone? What if he had never gone back to help Nancy and Jonathan in the first place? What if he had said what he wanted to say to Eddie before he left having said nothing?

He had been stewing on that last one, as he was wont to do, when something crashed through his god damned window.

He should be scared, probably. He should be annoyed by the glass that’s now covering his floor.

He’s none of that though, because he’s staring at Eddie Munson crouched and curled in on himself, perching on the balls of his feet. He’s staring at Eddie, who looks up at him with red eyes and fangs, which—he’s not even gonna unpack what that’s doing to him.

“W—where have you been?” He breaths. Trying to process any of this as Eddie stands.

Steve feels like the world is crumbling beneath him as he watches Eddie unfurl wings. Big, black things. Sorta feathery, sorta venous, entirely hot—which—Steves not gonna unpack that either.

Eddie smirks, those red eyes glinting, running a tongue over his pointed teeth. “Sorry baby, growing pains.”

[vivalski]

"I know the hospital has a shortage of donations and Mrs. Byers hasn't been able to get you blood bags recently. Just take mine for the meantime, before Henderson has the brilliant idea to stab his arm and offer his instead."

"Sure... W-wait, are you serious?"

"What? Something wrong with my blood? Look, I'm no vampire expert but I assure you it's gourmet shit, guaranteed."

"I think I'll be the judge of that"

Part 2

[myosotisa]

Chasm - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The recording cuts out to a buzzing hum.

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

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

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

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

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

“We wait for it to wake up again.”

Wake up.

Come on, little lamb.

Wake up now.

Looks so peaceful.

But you’ve got to wake up.

…

WAKE UP.

There’s something wet on your face.

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

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

It’s almost like you’re sinking.

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

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

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

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

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

“Over here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That depends, what year is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A blink and he’s gone.

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

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

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

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

That appears to be the way he prefers it.

“I think we can help each other.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What would I need to do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s something moving in your mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir, we’ve got activity.”

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

Since you were dragged through.

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

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

This is his fault.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Any news from the fault?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They all fall silent, listening closely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re… You’re actually alive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

[rambamthxman]

"Perfect is when there’s nothing wrong or bad. It’s good, lovely, beautiful, everything you want."

A lil doodle of Lil Bit from You're Divine by Oonionchiver (@azrielgreen ) on AO3!!

I fucking LOVE this fic with my entire soul and I really wanted to draw so many lil bits (pun intended) but this is the first thing I was compelled to doodle! The way Eddie sits on Steve's counter and watches him with those moonstone eyes 💕

Thank you for writing one of my favorite fics of all time, Az!! 🫶🏼💕

[justmeinadaze]

Created a Monster (Steddie X Kas Y/N)

Every time I hear this song this idea pops into my head but it's not what I'm used to writing per say. I wanted you guys to read like a preview and tell me if this is something you'd want more of or a one shot. Or whatever lol Just some feed back :) It's been sitting in my WIP forever but I can't stop thinking about it.

Warning: Steddie X Kas Fem Reader, mentions of grief and how much the boys miss her, I twisted some things from the show obviously. Instead of Eddie fighting, Y/N does. I also read up a bit on Kas so took some lore there. Not really expanded on in this preview but...

Word Count: 1956

Eddie and Steve stare at your gravestone as the preacher continues to spout some nonsense about young souls being angels on Earth and being called back home. No one understood what they were going through not even their friends they had fought with. You were their everything and now… you were gone. 

Steve and Robin sat in the cafeteria of the hospital picking at their food as they waited for Eddie to join them. For the past four months they had been visiting Max while continuing to be moral support for Lucas. Neither boy would let on how jealous they actually were of the former Hellfire member. At least he could still hold his girlfriend’s hand…see her face…kiss her cheek.

“The doctor’s said she’s showing improvement.”, Robin mused as she took a bite of bland rice in front of her. 

“That’s good. She’s a good kid who’s been through too much. She deserves to have a full life.”

His friend nods in understanding, scanning Steve over before reaching for his hand. 

“This is a stupid question but how are you doing?”

“I’m, um, I’m surviving. Eddie’s trying to keep it together for the guys but we’re both kind of floundering.”, he chuckles as he places his fork down and leans back. “I miss her laugh. Every time Munson would tell a joke, she would close her eyes and scrunch her nose… so cute.”

“Yeah, she was.”, his friend softly murmured. “She loved you two more than anything. Y/N would talk about you both nonstop to an annoying degree.”

When Robin playfully rolls her eyes, they both laugh almost uncontrollably until his gradually shift into sobs. Rising to her feet, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and in turn he does the same, his fingers digging almost painfully into her back. 

“I miss her so much.”

***

When both boys finally made it back home, Eddie silently flopped down on the couch as he grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. Since your passing, the metalhead had moved into the living room since their apartment only had one bedroom. Without you between them they saw no point in sharing anymore. Steve never said anything to contradict but he wished his friend had stayed. Even though they were never intimate in the dynamic, he would have rather shared a bed with his friend than be alone. It was just more of a reminder that you were gone. 

“Another group of men were found dead today outside of their homes, stabbed through the chest, and with nothing stolen or motive perceived from Hawkins PD. We reached out to reinstated Chief Hopper for comment but at this time none was given.”

“Something we should be worried about you think?”, Steve asked as he came up behind his friend to watch the tv.

“I mean, as long as they aren’t blaming me, I’d say no.”

“It doesn’t seem like Vecna either. No broken bones or eyes caved in—” Rising to his feet, Eddie hastily turned off the tv and reached for his jacket. “Eddie—”

“I agree. No Vecna. I’m, um, I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Is this how it’s always going to be?! Are we just going to be awkward around each other now? She wouldn’t have wanted that, Ed.”

A smooth, sarcastic laugh escaped the metalhead’s lips as he turned to face his friend. 

“Yeah? Well, I wanted her here and she’s fucking dead. We both don’t get what we want.”

“So, you’re just going to sully her memory like that?”

“Oh, fuck you, Harrington! She’s the one that ran off even though I told her not to move. She’s the one that decided to fight instead of listening to you and not being a hero. She’s the one who DIED IN MY FUCKING ARMS!” As his voice cracked, he paused to collect himself. “Y/N’s gone. She doesn’t get a say anymore.”

With that he turned on his heels and slammed the door. 

“He’s always been really hot headed hasn’t he?”, the vision of you giggles as you kick your feet against the counter. 

Steve never told anyone for fear of coming off as insane but this is how he processed you no longer being around; he pretended you weren’t gone.

“Yeah, just like you.”

“Excuse me! I was stubborn but not ‘hot headed’, jerk.”

His head hung at the word “was” as his bottom lip began to tremble. Jumping off the counter, you slide over till you were just inches from his side. Even though you weren’t really there, he swore he could smell you.

“Steve, baby, look at me. He’ll be ok… you both will.”

Shaking his head, he wiped the tears that had begun to fall but when he moved his hands away the image of you disappeared. 

“I love you, honey. I miss you so much.”

############

Eddie pulled his hood over his head as he powerwalked in what he thought was no particular direction. Even after being exonerated people still scowled and hurled insults his way. The ones that hurt him the most were the ones about you. 

Because they couldn’t bring your body back, it was assumed you had died with everyone else. Your family still held on to hope but in the worst way. You parents used to love him and Steve, treating them both like family but after Chrissy’s death everything shifted. They told you to stay away from him and in turn you told them to fuck off. 

Anytime they saw Eddie, they begged him to tell them where you were or where your body was so they could properly grieve. He ignored them as best he could but it killed him because he knew the truth. That’s something he and Nancy could connect on. Every time she told him about her experiences with Barb it comforted him to an extent. He hoped one day he could give them peace like her friend’s parents got. 

Stumbling over his feet, the metalhead finally took note of his surroundings realizing he had walked to Hawkins Cemetery. Sighing heavily, he gave in and let his feet continue to lead him till he was in front of your plot. 

“Y/N Y/L/N. 1986. Loving Friend, Daughter, and Girlfriend.” 

“Fucking basic shit. You were way more than that.”, he grumbled as he took a seat facing your stone. 

“I’m angry with you; so fucking angry. I told you to go up the rope but you insisted I go so I could catch you like Steve had. I should have known better. How could you do that? How could you leave us like that?!”

“I didn’t do it by choice.”, the vision of you replied in a sad but calm tone as you sat on top of your own stone. Eddie’s jaw tightened as he looked in the opposite direction. “Still ignoring me?”

“You’re not real.”

“True…but it helps Steve. At least that’s what you hope after hearing him talk out loud to me the other night. He really hates being alone, you know? He wants to talk to you but—”

“I can’t talk about you with people. Not yet.”

“Ok, then don’t talk about me. Maybe talk about D&D or Steve’s day. Anything else. Eddie, just because I’m gone doesn’t mean you two stop being friends.”

“Don’t preach to me, babe. I don’t want to hear it.”

“What do you want to hear?”

“Nothing. That’s all I ever fucking hear now. I don’t hear your stories about work or your family. I don’t hear you laughing at my jokes or your sarcasm when you’re making fun of Steve for his lack of movie knowledge. I don’t hear your fucking breath in the middle of the night when you’re sleeping or see you bite your lip when you’re thinking about something complicated. I don’t feel your fingers in my hair when I’m lying on the floor listening to music or your lips against mine. Why, Y/N? Because you’re fucking DEAD!”

The vision of you watched with sympathetic eyes as his shoulders shook and he sobbed in his hands. After a few minutes, he wiped his nose on his sleeve, finding you sitting cross legged in front of him with your knees inches from his own. 

“I don’t know how to live without you, sweetheart.”

“Eddie… I never loved anyone on this planet as much as I loved you and Steve. If it meant keeping you both safe…I would die again.”

“It was our job to protect you.”

“And you did such an amazing job.”

Shaking his head, he glanced towards a tree in the distance before turning your way to find you gone. 

“I love you, baby.”

################

Steve’s eyes snap open at the sound of glass breaking before quickly grabbing his bat and slowly stalking to the kitchen. 

“Jesus Christ!”

“I just go by Eddie but…” They both exasperatedly laughed as the other boy lowered his weapon. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. I just left the cemetery and I didn’t realize it was so fucking late.”

“Did, um, were you going to see her?”

He could have responded sarcastically but your words lingered in his mind. 

“Yeah… I just needed to hash some things out with her.”

“I know how you feel. Sometimes I get really angry at her to but then I get confused because I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Yeah.”, Eddie laughs as well. “Fuck, this sucks.”

As his friend nodded, a shadow on the wall caught the former jocks attention. It looked like a figure but that can’t be right because they were on the fourth floor of their complex. Just as he began to glance to find out what it was, their window shattered causing both men to fall to the ground and cover their heads. 

Steve recovered first, swiftly grabbing his bat and blocking the weapon that begun to swing down towards the metalhead. To his surprise it did stop it but as soon as he pushed the figure back, the bat cut cleanly in half. It took him a few seconds to realize the stranger in front of him was wielding a sword causing him to duck out of the way as the person continued swinging it at him. 

While trying to find something to defend himself with, he heard Eddie call his name and turned just in time to see him slide another sword his way. 

“Isn’t this fake?!”

“Please! We’re nerds! Do you think Y/N and I would buy anything fake!?”

Just as Steve unsheathed the weapon, it clinked loudly against the strangers. Both beings went toe to toe with the pretty boy surprising even himself. He got too cocky, however, lowering his guard just enough for the figure to punch his chest knocking the wind out of him as he fell to the floor. 

The armor the figure was wearing loudly tapped against each other as they stepped forwards and pointed their weapon at Steve’s throat. With wide eyes, he watched as the person took off their helmet and casually tossed it to the ground as their hair fell around their face.

“Y/N?”

The boy whined as you tilted the sharp weapon up towards his chin causing him to stretch his face out of the way. 

“My master sends his regards.”, you hiss as you step back and raise your sword. 

Before you can do anything, something hard collides with your head and you faint to the ground.

“Ok, I’m not dreaming right? Or hallucinating?”, Eddie asked as he reached for Steve’s hand to help him off the ground. 

“No, dude. At least I don’t think so…”

[belokhvostikova]

Okay, but what if right before Eddie and I were supposed to get married, we were brutally murdered by a gang, and on the night of our anniversary death, Eddie rose from grave, and used his newfound supernatural powers to avenge our deaths, by killing every person involved in our murders, and he just so happens to look like this…?

But, I guess instead of the The Crow, he’d be…

THE BAT! *ta-da*

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

Do it again...

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Princess!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Night reigned in your great and powerful castle as a menace out there stalked, threatening the people who lived beyond. You were alone locked away for safety, but no one knew that you had a sweet and exciting visit from a creature who wanted only and only you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ SMUT!!! MDNI!!Unprotected sex, p in v, bondage, age gap, choking, dracyphilia, degradation (whore, slut ect..), pet names (pretty girl, princess ect...), dirty talking, fingering, spanking, dom!mean!Eddie, sub!fem!reader, praise kink, begging, blood kink, wax play, monster fuck, aftercare, secret relationship.

𝐀/𝐍: Sorry for my english, is not my native language. I really love this one, i hope you enjoy! (Please dont judge, this is my first smut i posted on Tumblr, hope you can support new writers.) I would defenitely brought another one-shot like this, beacuse a love Eddie in fantasy romance. Support new writers and reblog! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

Night reigned over the kingdom of Nyzeen. It was populated by a large village that lived thanks to the king who ruled over them. A loyal and kind man who cared about his people and about making sure no one lived in poverty.

His kingdom was powerful and with equally strong and trained guards. He founded Nyzeen about twenty years ago at a young age, when he had enough courage to defeat Lilith, one of the most dangerous vampire women in the world, defined as the reincarnation of Count Vlad, an extremely dangerous vampire being who took pleasure in impaling own victims and then drain them dry by drinking their blood.

Lilith was defined as Vlad, a real devil, mother of all her demons called vampires today, created by the devil himself to take revenge on mankind by depriving them of their blood, and transforming them into part of his ranks.

The king, after defeating Lilith, took possession of the large and dark castle, creating the kingdom that it is today, saving the prisoners who were left there as a breeding ground for their uncontrolled hunger.

On that full moon night, the king found the love of his life among the unfortunate survivors, a woman with a wonderful appearance. The young king could not resist and married her, ruling at her side and they became husband and wife. One fine day, the king and queen gave birth to a beautiful and enchanting baby girl. You.

The day of your birth, in Nyzeen, was recognized as one of the days in which a sudden cold descended never felt before, while the forest present a few steps from the kingdom mysteriously expanded.

Many years have passed and you were close to adulthood, where you would soon have to choose your future husband and rule your future people. You were to become their queen, confident and fearless. Your mother still cries when she sees you today, in a short time you had grown up and it seemed like only yesterday when she held you in her arms for the first time. She was proud of you as was your father. To them, you were the most beautiful in all the realm, no one could resist your refined beauty. You were like a wonderful flower that bloomed in the blood of God, a divinity with an apparently monstrous appearance due to the dominant black color, but with the kindness and purity of a true angel from heaven.

However, in this beautiful fairy tale there was also a horrible threat that had been worrying the entire village lately. The forest that lay before the kingdom, also called The Black Forest, hid vampires who survived the war against Lilith. They caused the deaths of some inhabitants of the kingdom who had left to obtain some wood. The return of those blood-hungry creatures has sparked panic, but the king has promised to keep everyone safe and kill all those beasts that still infest this land. He hate them.

The vampire...

A creature as fascinating as it is on a scientific level is also extremely dangerous. It outlives man for thousands of years, maintaining a youthful appearance that masks its enormous age. Capable of transforming into bats, fog or werewolves, the predators par excellence. They have sharp canine teeth with which they tear the skin of humans and suck their lifeblood.

Their skin could change shades depending on how much blood they drank and they knew how to disguise themselves among humans, living among them as if nothing had happened. The books were full of information about them, and you couldn't hide that you felt some interest.

It was a cool night with a red moon and on that precise evening all the citizens of the kingdom locked themselves inside their homes, barring the doors and windows. Vampires during the red moon were ruthless and nothing would stop them. The only thing that could have kept them away was garlic. It was the weapon to keep them away, especially that night. Instead, your parents asked the more trained guards to lock you in your rooms and make sure nothing happened.

Not only were the lives of the citizens at stake, but also yours and that of the entire kingdom. You were the daughter of the man who defeated and ruined the vampire race, they certainly didn't find you nice...

Your room was dark and a few oil candles attached to the walls gave light. The windows were closed, including the small balcony that overlooked the castle's outdoor garden. You were calmly looking at yourself in the mirror while combing your hair. You were still in your long dress, you didn't feel like wearing your nightgown yet so you preferred to wait.

A tidy and sober dress, a true gothic princess after all. The only thing you got rid of was the corset so you could feel freer and more carefree.

You jumped on the spot when you suddenly heard a knock on the glass of your balcony, as if someone had knocked. You turned around but no one was there. You therefore decided to get up and go and check; you weren't afraid, not even of a possible vampire, maybe... it depends on who the vampire in question is. You were attracted by the reddish light of the moon, all in front of you, as if it had come to take you.

Incredible, you thought.

Someone's shadow appeared, you managed to see it, it was hidden behind the wall. You grabbed a knife from your thigh lining, then jerked open the entrance to your balcony. It was all so fast. The stranger managed to block your arms from behind, but you kicked him on the knee and as soon as he grimaced in pain you pointed the knife near his throat.

Only now did you realize that the sharp blade was grazing Eddie's pale white skin. Your tense muscles loosened as a giggle escaped his lips "I must say you've improved, princess" he said and you lowered the weapon putting it down and he licked his lower lip "I wasn't expecting any visitors" You stated walking back inside while the vampire followed you "I wanted to surprise you with the surprise effect" He said as he wrapped his arms around your waist and in the meantime you closed the balcony "Well you did it" You whispered as he placed his cold lips on yours skin pressing a few kisses.

Exact. You were secretly paired with a vampire, one of those who killed for food and who together with his cronies are wreaking havoc through The Black Forest. It wasn't your fault, you couldn't imagine it ending like this, actually it wasn't supposed to go like this, but fate had decided that way. That day when he pierced your heart like a sharp arrow you lost your temper, you couldn't escape, you couldn't resist, you were destined. A dream...a dream where love is nothing but passion, sin and chaos, nothing more!

You turned towards him giving him a sweet kiss while he held you close to him. You placed your hands on the now torn black shirt that showed the rest of his stomach. It was stained with that dark red liquid like wine but which for his tastes was even better than the wine itself.

"Why this sudden visit on the night of the red moon?" You asked then felt her nails as black as her arms fix one of your locks "I haven't seen my princess in days, I felt so alone, so I came to see you" curious how he chose today to come and see you , but in the end, it was fine, right? You had removed all the verbena plants you kept in your room, so it's as if you were waiting for his arrival. Verbena was an extremely rare plant to find and used to ward off vampires and witches' spells. Only people from the castle could take advantage of this very difficult to find flower, but you didn't think about it.

“My poor dear, I'm sorry for making you feel so alone” You said in an empathetic tone stroking his unruly curls “I couldn't imagine living a hundred years without your presence” he whispered making you blush and he kissed you again. He was hungry, more romantic than usual and what's more his grip was stronger than you remembered.

You separated while catching your breath and he could feel your warm breath on his chin "And you? How did my princess feel without me?" He asked. Your noses were together and you could notice his dark circles and brown eyes like a fallen autumn leaf "Bored. Without you, life here is still the same, nothing new" since your relationship was something secret , you and Eddie couldn't be together whenever you wanted, so it was normal if you didn't see each other for a week or even a whole month.

Eddie nodded "Well now you don't have to worry because I'm here princess" Yes. It was definitely VERY romantic unlike other times you two saw each other. You didn't say anything to him until he pressed a few kisses to your neck "If you're feeling peckish, just help yourself, you know I don't mind" You used a calm tone that would put Eddie at ease.

But he shook his head "I can't sweetheart, I don't want to bleed you dry" he positioned his face in the crook of your neck and you gave him a simple kiss. You had forgotten that on a night like this, vampires could be aggressive and uncontrolled. The younger vampires were extremely out of control and with a higher bloodlust, but Eddie, being a vampire who has lived over three hundred years, fortunately does not have this problem, but still he would have been uncontrolled if you let him drink your blue blood. But you would do it, you didn't care if he would drain you to death, you would do it for him.

“I would take the risk for you,” you told him as your hand ran through his messy curls. You felt his cold breath on your neck, sending shivers down your entire spine. It wasn't the first time Eddie drank your blood, the first time he tasted you he called it the purest blood he had ever drunk. From then on, Eddie demanded that no other vampire scum should touch you or your blood, you were his, and you wouldn't change that.

Eddie, hearing your consent, sank his fangs into your neck causing excruciating pain. You held back a scream by biting your bottom lip hard. He sucked your blood intensely and you heard him moan. The vampire's grip got tighter and tighter and you hissed something and then no longer felt that stinging pain. He licked the bleeding wound and you squeezed your legs together feeling some tingling.

At a moment like this you absolutely shouldn't be excited, but his teeth as well as his tongue dragging on your wound, it was a mix of different emotions for you.

You were so needy in that moment...and here you came to fuck on your big bed, while outside the knights started making a big mess. Eddie had you pinned to the bed, wrists tied to the headboard, dress now off leaving your skin exposed and on display. Escaping was now impossible...

The vampire had positioned himself above you, his fingers playing on your clit in circular motions, while with his other hand he held a white candle, dropping the now melted and hot wax.

“Eddie-” you called him as tears rolled down your cheeks “No” he said once again in a dominant tone. You absolutely had to come, but Eddie ordered you not to, he wanted to ruin you, and what better way than to drag it out? You moaned at the burning of the hot wax on your belly, you couldn't make too much noise, even if there was a racket outside you couldn't risk it "Look at you, you're so pathetic" he said with a grin as you almost screamed because of the wax that fell on your left breast “I bet you want my cock inside you so bad, huh princess?” You were too caught up in the sensations that it took you time to respond.

Spank!

“I asked you a fucking question whore” he said growling and squeezing your ass where he hit “Y-yes!” You said desperately "Please Eds-" you begged. The vampire laughed teasing you "Have we got our manners back, princess?" He asked as he threw a handful of hot wax on your nipple which this time made you scream but you tried to bite your lip to hold back "Yes Eddie, please make me cum" you looked at him with tears in your eyes and he smiled, blowing out the candle with a simple blow, placing it on the nightstand next to your royal bed. The vampire moved closer to your face to kiss your cheeks and suck some of your salty tears. One of his fingers had now entered you making you moan noticeably “Just like that” He whispered to you as he sunk his fangs into your neck, but lower near your collarbones. You felt all the pain and pleasure at the same time. The sound of his fingers sliding in and out of your pussy could be heard throughout the room, and you were seriously about to reach your limit "E-um" You tried to say his name and failed miserably "Come on princess, now you can cum, i want to be generous" he said pulling away from your skin, disinfecting the wound with its saliva. His approval was all you needed, and sure enough, you came wetting his ringed fingers and moaning throwing your head back “Fuck-” You vulgarly said abandoning yourself to the passion of the moment.

Your legs trembled as the vampire stood up looking fully at you. You were fucking gorgeous, now naked on your own bed, tied at the wrists, half your body covered in wax, cheeks wet from your tears and makeup now smudged. You were ruined, but not completely. There was something else you wanted badly, and that was his seed inside you. It wasn't the first time you had sex with Eddie, and for this you thought you were very lucky, because you didn't think you had ever enjoyed so much in your life, even if he was a mystical and dangerous creature, you were really grateful that it was him who took your virginity.

The vampire caressed your thigh and then gave a spank that made you gasp "You really like coming huh? My little slut" he wiped his lips dirty with your blue blood with his hand "Eddie please..." You continued to pray to him. You couldn't do anything else, you didn't care anymore, not even if someone could come in and catch you in that scandalous state.

“I hear you needy girl” He chuckled and hastily took off his pants, freeing his erect, needy cock. He couldn't wait to make you scream his name with just simple thrusts as your tears fall in pleasure.

You felt the tip of his cock tapping against your clit and then Eddie positioned his cock at the entrance to your pussy, then, without warning, thrusting in with a rough deal, you let out a moan as you screamed his name.

“F-fuck, you're so damn tight” he said as he placed his ringed hand on your neck pressing lightly “Now see about using that pretty little mouth to scream my name.” With this, the vampire, without hesitation, began to give firm thrusts, he was seriously full of adrenaline, you didn't think if it was because of the red moon night or if it was just a coincidence.

Every thrust got louder and louder, and every moan you made was just as loud. "Do you hear that, princess? All this noise?" He whispered and you heard some screams coming from outside. You couldn't seriously understand what was happening but deep down, you didn't care in the slightest, you nodded "People out there are about to be massacred, what about you? Oh of course, you're here getting fucked by a vampire" those words of his were like a fine iron blade pointed at the belly.

It was really true...

There was definitely a massacre going on outside and instead of worrying about it you were there tied to that bed getting fucked hard by a vampire.

"Who knows what your parents will think of you...just a little doll who loves to be fucked, isn't she?" His firm hand on your neck tightened even more making you gasp between your moans. Some blood had leaked from your wound, staining the pillows behind you. You nodded and he didn't accept this answer of yours.

Spank!

"Use your words, pretty girl" after this, Eddie sped up making you moan uncontrollably hitting that sweet spot inside you "Y-yes Eddie! I'm your little doll" You almost screamed as your breathing quickened and you began to sweating “Of course you are, fuck-” he let out a moan as you rolled your eyes up “Eddie- I have to-” the words died as more gasps filled you and salty tears wet the pillow next to you. "Cum all over my cock, princess" the sound of your skins flapping repeatedly was something vulgar and sinful "Fuckfuckfuckfuck-" You repeated throwing your head back once again as your pussy tightened around the his cock, you both came moaning in unison.

“Jesus Christ-” the vampire growled giving the last two thrusts, firm and strong filling you with his cum. Eddie removed his hand from your neck, revealing some marks you would have been hard pressed to hide, not to mention the bites caused by his hunger. He pressed light kisses to your neck and you tried to catch your breath “Everything ok princess?” He asked as he caressed your waist, you nodded looking at him. You were tired, exhausted, and Eddie noticed. He stood up taking a deep breath and took care of you by cleaning up the combined case.

You woke up the next morning under your linen covers, the sun's rays streaming through the window and forcing you to open your eyes. You turned your head to look next to you and saw the silhouette of Eddie sitting facing the balcony, the vampire was putting on sunscreen to avoid getting burned. You admired the vampire's back, he seemed to be sculpted from clay, a true historical statue, his messy but majestic curls were simply perfect, he was the most handsome man you had ever seen, and you would never deny it.

You noticed that you weren't naked like you remembered, but in your nightgown. Most likely it was him who dressed you and took care of you, you also noticed how for the first time the boy had slept with you. Because of your secret relationship, it wasn't usual to sleep together in the same bed without being discovered, but you appreciated this gesture on his part. Eddie turned around noticing you waking up "Good morning sleeping beauty" he smiled at you and you did the same still a little sleepy "How are you?" He asked walking closer to you, resting his pale back, like the rest of his skin, on the headboard "Good Eds. Last night though, you were different..." You added a note of concern and the vampire raised his eyebrow as put away the sunscreen.

“What do you mean sweetheart?”

"Last night you were upset. You were a desperate, howling demon. You scared me..." A small grin formed on your face as your nightgown was now on full display and the vampire's hungry eyes couldn't help less than admiring you "Aw, I'm sorry if this vampire scared you princess" he said sarcastically and came closer "Oh, my dear, please. Do it again..." you stroked his dark curls and he laughed "Come here naughty girl"

He smiled as he walked over and hugged you as you let out a soft laugh.

Who cares what happened to him last night! Now you just wanted to stay held by him for eternity.

[ryan-waddell11]

you could never disappoint me Eddie Munson