#ghostface eddie munson

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

what’s your favorite scary movie?

summary: porn star eddie is doing a halloween film with his costar, one that involves a certain mask.

pairing: porn star eddie x porn star reader

word count: 5.9k

warnings: being filmed, daddy kink, use of a realistic plastic knife (nothing weird with it, though), unprotected sex, creampies, choking, brief oral sex (m & f receiving), mentions of anal, breast play, anal fingering (f receiving), degradation, rough sex, kinda dubcon

a/n: im aware halloween is over, but its always Halloween in my mind! also, sorry if anything like this has been done. I just returned to tumblr, and haven’t read many fics here in like 8-9 months.

18+ ONLY. minors do not interact or follow, or you’re getting blocked.

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Ring! Ring!

The phone next to you was ringing its familiar ringtone, and you looked at it with an eye roll. Unknown number, typical. You were acting the part of someone who didn’t like spam calls, but you hated them just as much in real life, too. You turned your attention back to the TV, ready to forget all about it and delete any voice mail they may leave, when it began to ring again. The same number popped up, and you killed the call. They called again, and again, and after the fifth time, you’d finally had enough.

“What do you want?” you asked irritably.

“y/n,” a deep voice came over the phone. “How nice to catch you.”

“Who is this?” you asked. 

“That doesn’t matter,” he said, and you could hear a grin in his voice. “I was lonely, and thought I would give you a call.”

“Very funny,” you said. “Tell me who you are.”

“What’s the fun of that?” he asked. “Isn’t mystery supposed to be more fun?”

“Is it?” you asked. “You’re probably just someone I know, trying to play some kind of weird joke.”

“Am i?” he asked. “I don’t think I know you at all.”

“Then how did you know my name and my number?” you asked. “Answer me that.”

“Maybe I have my own methods,” he said. “Ever think of that?”

“Ha ha,” you said with an eye roll. You hung up, but the same number called again and you picked up. “Yes?”

“That wasn’t very wise of you,” he said dangerously. “You didn’t even let me ask my questions.”

“They’re probably something really fucking gross,” you said. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Now, now,” he said, tsking. “What do you take me for?”

“A pervert,” you said.

“You’re right,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “But that isn’t why I’m calling you.”

“No?” you asked with a chuckle. “Coulda fooled me.” 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked, and you could almost hear the grin in his voice.

“What the fuck?” you asked, sitting up on the couch. “What kind of question is that?”

“Are you going to answer it?”

“No, now goodbye–”

“Hang up again, and you’ll regret it.”

The threatening tone of his voice gave you pause. “Who is this?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked again.

“Whatever,” you said, and dared to hang up. It didn’t last long until he called again, and you rolled your eyes as you answered. “What?!”

“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m not gonna entertain you,” you said. “You’re a fucking creep.”

“Just answer my question and I’ll leave you alone,” he said.

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “I really like Psycho, Halloween, Friday the 13th, The Exorcist.”

“I know you like Friday the 13th,” he said, and he laughed evilly on the other end. “I can see that you’re watching it right now.”

You froze, sitting bolt upright. “What did you just say?”

“Never mind that,” he said. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No..” you answered automatically, looking around the darkness of your windows for any signs of life. “How do you know what I’m watching…?”

“Just a guess,” he said.

You got up and turned on all the lights, looking around again to see if you could spot someone. “Look, I need to go–”

“Don’t hang up,” he nearly shouted.

“Look, this isn’t funny or cute anymore,” you said. “I’m really uncomfortable, so if you could please–”

“You look really sexy in your pretty lingerie,” he said. “I mean, I think that’s what it is. You’re wearing that pretty pink babydoll with a thong. You like to tease people, y/n? That isn’t very nice.”

“Fuck you, creep,” you said.

“You didn’t ask what my favorite scary movie is,” he said.

“I don’t care!” you cried. “Leave me alone!”

“It’s The Strangers,” he said, and you could swear his voice sounded different now. More echo, closer somehow. “You know, that movie where those people break into that house.”

“I’m–” you began, and your back collided with someone as you backed away. 

You played the part of terrified really well, and you could see the cameraman giving you a thumbs up as you kept the facade. You turned around slowly, shouting in surprise when you came face to face with a man in a mask. He was in all black, and the rest of his mask was black as well, except for the face. It looked like a ghost, its mouth agape in some kind of eternal shock. In his hand was a knife, but you knew it wasn’t a real one. It was plastic that was made to look like the real deal, something the director found at a joke shop for a little bit of nothing. You shrieked and tried to run away, but he grabbed you and held you against his back as he stroked your hair in a near-loving gesture.

“Shh,” he said in your ear, trailing the knife down your arm. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Could have fooled me,” you said, feeling yourself already starting to get wet as you felt him hardening against your ass. “Why are you here, then?”

“I was hoping maybe I’d get lucky,” he purred, moving the knife between your breasts as you shivered. “You’re so much hotter up close.”

“And what do YOU look like under that thing?” you asked, your voice conveying the whole “stall him” vibe that the director wanted you to go for. “It’s not really fair that you see me and I can’t see you. If you’re really not gonna hurt me, then why won’t you show me?”

“I’ll show you,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “If you do one thing for me.”

“What?” you asked, turning your head so that you could look at him slightly. 

“Show me those pretty, perfect tits,” he said in your ear, running the knife between them again. “Outside of that baby doll.”

“And what would you do for me in return?” you asked, turning around in his grip and looking into that mask. “Let me live?”

“Maybe,” he said, looking you up and down. “But first, I’ll just show you my face if you do. Let’s start there, yeah?”

You smirked at him, lowering the thin straps of the baby doll and biting your lip. “You’re probably some total asshole under there. I mean, who calls random women at nine on a Friday night, stalks them, then breaks into their house?”

“Keep going,” he said, his eyes on your breasts. “Show me.”

“You’re a real pervert, you know that?” you said.

“And look what you’re doing,” he said smugly. “Giving into me.”

“You came here to kill me,” you said. “I know that to be true, but it seems like you changed your mind. Why?”

“Because why would I waste such a good set of tits?” he asked. “And I know that pussy of yours is also perfect.”

You swallowed, but smirked as you pulled the baby doll down. You exposed your breasts to him, and heard him suck in a breath. That wasn’t scripted; it was his genuine reaction. You bit your lip again, smiling as you stood before him. He took the knife and dragged it over one erect nipple, causing you to shiver and moan slightly. That also wasn’t scripted or an act, and you knew that whatever happened from this point onward, it was going to be genuine. Well, aside from the basic acts they wanted you to perform on each other, but the reactions? It would be all you, and him. 

“Like what you see?” you asked, shaking them a bit as he groaned.

“Fuck yes,” he said, his ringed hands coming up to grope them. You moaned a little, head tipping slightly as he massaged them in his hands. “I guess I need to hold up my end of the bargain, too, huh?”

“Mmm hmm,” you said, mewling as he gave your nipples a soft pinch. “Shit…”

He stepped back, and you whined at the loss of contact. He lifted the mask with one hand, revealing his face underneath. You acted as though you were surprised to see just how sexy he really was, and his pierced tongue came out between his lips with a devils-horn gesture at the top of his head. You smiled, moving closer to him and running your hands down his chest as he looked you up and down again. Soon, he was grabbing your head forcefully, and drawing your lips to his in a passionate, hard kiss. It turned sloppy, your hands wandering and his, too, finding purchase on your hips as he squeezed. Your tongue played with his piercing, and you could feel the presence of the cameraman in front of you both as you made out. One hand tangled in his hair, the other palming the big bulge that was forming in the front of his pants. His hands came up, grabbing your breasts hard as you moaned into his mouth. He tugged your lower lip between his teeth, moving away to start kissing down your neck. 

“You feel so big,” you breathed, mewling as his teeth found your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You have no idea,” he said, pulling your body to his before grabbing your ass. “I want you so bad.”

“Come on,” you said, taking his hand and leading him into the living room. You pushed him down on the couch, straddling his lap before grinding against his dick. “You know what I want you to do?”

“What?” he panted. 

“Want you to rip this thing off of me,” you said in his ear, tugging the lobe in your teeth. 

“Oh?” he asked, grabbing the back of it and tearing it down the middle. “Like that?”

“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, kissing his neck as he moaned. “And I want you to put the mask back on.”

“Okay,” he said, smirking before his face disappeared beneath the Ghostface mask again. 

“You know what else I want?” you asked, moaning as you continued to glide along his clothed erection.

“Hm?”

“I want that big, thick cock down my throat.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You could hear the smirk in his voice, and it would have infuriated you under any other circumstances. Right then, though, you were too turned on to care. You moved from your spot on his lap to slide to your knees, keeping your eyes on him as you did so. You palmed the bulge in his pants again, feeling how hard he was and suppressing a moan. He watched you from beneath the mask, both of his arms stretched along the back of the couch as you pulled his pants down. His breathing picked up a bit as you put your mouth over his cock through his boxers, and soon, you were pulling those down, too. He was exposed to you now, all nine inches of his thick, pierced, flushed erection at your mercy. As per the script, you teased him a little, sucking on his piercing before swirling your tongue around his slit. He mewled, panting as you took the tip in your lips and sucked eagerly. His arms remained on the back of the couch, not moving yet as you started planting messy, noisy, open mouthed kisses all over the entire length of his cock. You moved farther down to take his big balls into your mouth as well, sucking on them with a moan as you jerked him off skillfully. He was panting a little more heavily now, and you traced his large vein with your tongue as you made your way back up his length.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he growled.

“Sorry, uh…” you said. “I don’t know what to call you.”

“You can call me Daddy,” he said, reaching down with one hand to stroke your cheek. “And what shall I call you, huh?”

“Anything you want,” you said with a wink, spitting on his cock and jerking him off. “Such a big dick, fuck.” 

“What did I say about teasing?” he asked, tilting your chin up with the knife.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you said, opening your mouth and taking his entire cock.

You gagged for a moment until you got your reflex under control, which was something you’d gotten good at in the business. You could feel him in your throat, stretching, his piercing at the back of it as you drug your head up, then back down. He was moaning above you under the mask, his head tipped back as he tangled a hand in your hair. You looked up at him, bobbing your head slowly as you gripped his base in one hand. You began to jerk him off in time with your movements, ignoring the camera man as he came around to get some close up shots. It felt as if he wasn’t even there, that’s how into it you were starting to get. You could feel your pussy throbbing, wetness settling in the thong you still wore as you sucked him off.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, tugging on your hair as you hollowed your cheeks. “You’re so fucking good at that. You’re a filthy little cock slut, aren’t you? I mean, who else just gets on her knees for a man she’s just met, especially one who broke into her house to hurt her?”

You responded by twisting your wrist, eyes still on him as you sucked him off messily. Drool cascaded from his dick and onto the floor below, and your throat was starting to hurt a bit from his piercing. But he was so hot, THIS was so hot, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. His hips bucked upward with a loud moan, and you choked as more of his cock went down your throat again. He stroked your cheek tenderly, before yanking you off of his dick. Spit bridged your lips to the tip, and you looked up at him in surprise. Was this scripted? You couldn’t quite remember, but either way, it sent a fresh wave of arousal to your cunt.

“Rub my dick across your tits,” he said. 

“Those are one of my biggest insecurities,” you replied, but did as he asked as he moaned filthily. “But you like them, huh?”

“Fuck yes,” he panted, watching as you sucked his tip again. “You’re so hot.”

“Thanks,” you said, and you continued to alternate between rubbing his dick over your breasts and sucking him off. After a little while, he forced you to stop by grabbing your jaw. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up,” he growled. “Did I say I was ready to cum yet?”

“No, Daddy,” you said, reaching out to jerk him off. “But I can’t stop worshipping this huge, perfect dick of yours.”

He grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the couch, causing you to whine. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You already did,” he said, grabbing your spit-soaked chin in one hand and forcing you to look up into his mask. “Now, it’s my turn.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to take him into your mouth again, but you were greeted by a light slap to your cheek. “What?”

“I said stop it,” he said, pushing you away as he got up off the couch. “Sit up here for me.”

You whined, but did as he said. You sat down on the couch, watching as he lifted the mask again. He kissed you hungrily, sloppily, one ringed hand squeezing your jaw before it found your throat. He choked you for a moment, and you moaned as his hands found your breasts. He massaged them skillfully, his rings cold against your heated skin, his fingers rubbing your nipples until they were hard buds. He pinched them, tugged on them, swiped his fingers across them, all while you moaned hotly in his mouth. He grabbed his plastic knife, running it over & between your breasts before dragging it over your waist and stomach. 

“I’m going to show you just what I’m capable of,” he said, kissing down your neck after leaving a series of hickeys in his wake. He nipped at your collarbones, before he found your breasts. “You have the hottest body I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“All the other girls you broke in on weren’t as hot, huh?” you asked.

“Not even close,” he said, pulling one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking generously. “Such an amazing set of tits.”

“Fuck…” you whined, one hand in his hair as he tugged your nipple in his teeth. You knew the cameraman was probably getting a pretty good shot with that; Eddie was skilled, he knew what he was doing and how to work a woman’s body. You were reacting to him, wetness pooling in your thong, and you spread your legs for him as you grabbed one of his hands. “I want you to touch me. Please, I need it.”

“So needy, princess,” he said, giving your other nipple the same treatment as the last. He drug the knife down, running it over your cunt as he smirked. “I’ll bet you’re soaking wet for me, aren’t you? You’re such a depraved fucking slut, you know that? Putting out for me like this, soaking that pretty thong for me.”

“Touch me the right way and find out, asshole,” you challenged, and you could feel him grinning against your breast. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said, smiling up at you as he started to kiss his way down your stomach. They weren’t gentle, tender kisses; they were needy, hard, bruising. You knew you’d have some marks there tomorrow. “Just that you think it’s so funny and cute to be calling me names right now, when I’ve got the upper hand.” 

“Who says you’ve got the upper hand?” you asked, and he slapped your thigh hard as you yelped. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“Shut up,” he snarled, kneeling in front of you and spreading your legs as wide as they would go. He peeled off your thong, and the cameraman moved behind him to get a shot of your pussy. “Fuck, look at that. So fucking pretty and so goddamn wet.”

“I can’t help it,” you said, shivering as he ran the knife over your bare cunt. “Daddy…”

“I’m going to make you fucking scream, baby,” he said, and he immediately began to devour you.

You had never been eaten out like that before, either off camera or on. The way his pierced tongue moved through your cunt, so skillful and hungry, had you moaning loudly. You usually had to fake your moans, or at the very least, over exaggerate them. Not now; right now, every single noise that fell from your lips was genuine. He was devouring you, his tongue flicking your clit with every drag upward, his hands gripping your thighs tight enough to leave more bruises. You reached down to grab his hair, and he moaned as you pulled it roughly. His piercing dragged through your saturated folds, slowly and teasingly, before he pressed it tightly against your clit. More wetness soaked his face, and his fingers soon joined the mix. The cameraman was getting some great shots, and Eddie began to fuck you roughly on his fingers while his mouth did its magic.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” you gasped, rutting against his face as you clenched around his fingers. “I need more.”

“More?” he asked, his free hand dragging the knife over your thigh. “How much more? I’m giving you all I can, you greedy whore.”

“I want more,” you insisted, your eyes nearly rolling back as he started sucking on your clit. “Please…”

“Is this what you want?” he asked, gathering some of your wetness on the fingers of his free hand and pushing a finger inside of your ass. “Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasped, looking down into his big brown eyes as he started to eat your pussy again. “Fuck, please…”

He took his fingers out of your cunt, instead focusing on your ass. He shook his head back & forth rapidly, growling, his eyes still trained on your face. You kept looking down at him, playing with your breasts as his tongue swirled your clit. You tugged your nipples, and soon he was slapping your hand away with his free one to take over. He squeezed it, massaging it, pinching the nipple as hard as he could. You cried out, and you could feel the familiar sensation in your lower stomach that indicated an orgasm was imminent. He kept going, lapping at your pussy as if his life depended on it, shaking his head occasionally, using his piercing to his advantage. He began to fuck you on his tongue as he fingered your ass, moaning as more of your taste flooded his tongue.

“So fucking good,” he mumbled, moaning as he reached down to jerk himself off. “I’m going to fucking cum just from eating your pussy.”

“I’d rather you cum inside of me,” you said. “I wanna feel that big dick in my tight, wet pussy right now. Wanna feel you pumping me full of cum, and feel how good you are inside of me. Please.”

“You’d rather cum around my dick?” he asked, raising a brow at you.

“Mmm hmm,” you said. “But you gotta put the mask back on.”

“Tired of my face already?” he teased, pulling his finger out and putting the mask back on. “Alright, have it your way. How do you want me to fuck you?”

“From behind,” you said.

“Just like a disgusting fucking whore, huh?” he asked, slapping your ass as you stood up. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, baby.”

“Then do it,” you said. “Stop talking about it and just do it already, asshole.”

He slapped your ass hard, leaving a large red handprint in his wake. You yelped but giggled, wiggling your ass toward him as he spanked it again. He held the knife to your throat, pulling you up by your head as his mouth found your ear. You could feel his giant cock throbbing against your ass, and knew he was close already. But if everything you heard about his reputation was true, you knew that didn’t mean anything. He could apparently hold off for quite awhile, even that close, and you were looking forward to having him inside of you. In fact, you needed it more than you ever needed anything. You were tired of doing films with men who had average or below average dicks; they didn’t do anything for you, and you always had to fake it. But with Eddie? You highly doubted you would have that problem.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll slit your fucking throat,” he said in your ear, pressing the hard plastic a little more firmly to your throat. “You’re in no position right now to be a fucking bitch.”

“I think I am,” you said, grinning smugly at him as you pushed back against his cock. “You’ve got me right where you want me, right? So, instead of making empty threats and being a douchebag, why don’t you just fuck me?”

He slapped your ass hard again, dragging the knife across your throat ever so gently. “You’re fucking lucky I think you’re so hot. Otherwise, I would be ending this right fucking now by cutting you wide open.”

“Fuck me already!” you said. “You’re–”

You were cut off by a loud moan as you felt him pushing inside of you. You cried out as his thick length stretched your pussy, and you could feel his piercing deep inside. He held onto your hips to anchor himself, bending you over the couch as he pushed himself deeper. You nearly screamed as you felt that piercing on your cervix, but it hurt so good. You reached down and squeezed his hand, and you could tell that he was trying hard not to break character to hold your hand. He had to know how it felt, and you could tell that he was holding back, even still. The director seemed not to notice, though; he just instructed his cameraman to get a shot of his cock buried deep inside of your pussy. He was almost fully inside, and it took you a minute to adjust to how it felt. Never had you been this full, never had anything felt so good, and you weren’t sure how long YOU would be able to last. He was moaning behind you, and you felt his dick twitch. That caused you to moan filthily, and you looked behind your shoulder into his masked face, a smirk on your own.

“What are you waiting for, Daddy?” you asked, biting your lip. “Fuck me.”

He started to thrust, keeping them slow and shallow at first. The cameraman looked up questioningly, and the director simply shrugged and instructed him to keep filming. You moaned, feeling that piercing against your cervix again with every movement inward. He kept hold of your hips, and soon, he was fucking you a little harder. You knew that he was making sure you were okay first, something that he seemingly didn’t do with any of his other costars. Maybe he found a soft spot for you, or maybe the rest of them were used to taking dicks his size. Either way, you thought the gesture of going off script was rather touching, and you looked back at him with a smile. You couldn’t tell if he was reciprocating, but the sharp thrust inside of you somehow told you that he was.

“You’re so fucking tight and wet,” he said, starting to absolutely DRILL you as you nearly screamed. “Listen to that, can you hear it?”

You could. As he fucked into you harder, you could hear just how wet you truly were for him. His fingers dug into your skin, his breath in your ear, and you just moaned as you clenched hard around him. That caused him to groan, and you smirked as you did it again. This brought another loud crack to your ass, and you yelped as the knife made another appearance at your throat.

“Stop doing that,” he growled. “You needy bitch.”

“Sorry,” you said, but did it again.

He stopped thrusting, putting the knife down to grab your throat with his hands. He choked you for a moment, chuckling darkly as you kept clenching around him. He began to move again but kept his grip, letting go only when you started clawing at his hands. He reached around to grope your breasts, rubbing the nipples as he absolutely pounded you against the couch. He was panting and groaning, the sounds filling the air as the cameraman got another shot of him fucking into you. You could feel your lower stomach tightening, but you weren’t ready for this to be over yet. Fuck, he felt so goddamn good; you never wanted it to end. You would have been content going on forever just like this, with him inside of you as you whined desperately. He knew you were getting desperate, too; he reached down, rubbing your clit in hard, fast circles as you cried out. You clenched again, his hands now on your shoulders as you braced against the couch. He drilled your needy, soaking cunt, each bump to your cervix causing you to moan even louder.

“Cum for me,” he said. “Show me just how much you fucking love what I’m doing to you. Show me what a greedy whore you are for my cock.”

You moaned, and were shocked to see that he was pulling out of you. The director was about to intervene, but Eddie was pushing you onto your back on the couch. He lifted your legs to his shoulders and pushed inside of you again, causing you to moan hotly as he filled you up again. The director stopped and instructed the cameraman to keep going, and you looked up into his masked face with a look of pleasure on yours. You arched under him, writhing, your hands finding his clothed back and digging your nails into the fabric. He pounded you hard, the new angle causing him to hit into your sweet spot. He didn’t use his entire cock this time; instead, he decided to get creative, and fucked directly into your G-spot. The feel of the piercing against it was so fucking good, and you tore at his dark shirt as he pounded against you.

“That’s it,” he cooed, the strokes of his cock remaining shallow and deep as your mouth fell slack. “Cum around my cock, princess.”

“Fuck,” you whined, your jaw still open as your head tipped back. “I’m gonna cum so hard, Daddy.”

“Cum for me,” he coaxed, his fingers rubbing hard circles on your clit again. “Do it for me. Show me how desperate you are to let some stranger fuck you like this.”

Tears began to leak out of your eyes. They weren’t bad; it was just so much, so overwhelming. You could tell that he was having doubts, so you sat up slightly to bury your face in his neck. He groaned, thrusting harder before pushing you back down. He pinned you to the couch, both of his large hands holding you down as he mercilessly pounded you. More tears leaked from your eyes, and he laughed wickedly under the mask.

“What’s wrong?” he taunted. “Is my dick too big for you, you disgusting slut? Can’t take it all?”

“No, i can,” you said, trying to get out of his grip. 

“Then take it and cum for me,” he coaxed, fucking you as hard as he could. “Go ahead, show me you can do it.”

It didn’t take much more for you to cum. A few more strokes of his cock, a few more swipes with his fingers, and that was it. You screamed in pleasure, and none of that was exaggerated or fake, either. You squirted around him twice, and the director was staring in awe as the cameraman caught everything. You kept arching, moaning, bucking up against him as he continued to pound into you. He was panting above you under the mask, moaning as you felt him twitch inside of you. He was fighting hard to keep going, but you knew he was going to lose that fight very soon. You reached down and took his knife, holding it up with a smirk.

“You wanna hold this to my throat again?” you asked. “Maybe that would get you off.”

He took it and did just that, holding it on your throat as he pounded you. You moaned, clenching around him, bucking your hips up against his thrusts to aid him. He looked down at your breasts, then back to where the knife was held to your throat, and you felt him twitch twice. You knew it was coming and, sure enough, it did a moment later. He came hard inside of you, moaning through it, his head bowed as he allowed his orgasm to take him over. He continued to thrust until it was done, stopping and nearly collapsing on top of you before pulling out. But he wasn’t finished, and you already knew what was coming because of the script. He pulled you to a sitting position and opened your legs, eyeing your dripping cunt as he rubbed the knife between both of his hands. 

“Look at that,” he said, running his fingers through your sensitive pussy before he knelt in front of you. “I made such a mess of you, didn’t I?”

“Mmm hmm,” you said, moaning as he lifted his mask. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I think you know,” he said, dragging the knife over your thigh again before he started eating you out once more. “I’m nowhere close to being fucking done with you, you fucking slut. If you think that I am, then you’d better think again.”

“So much for scary movies, huh?” you asked, moaning as he began to devour your pussy even more desperately. 

“I think this is much better,” he said, eating you out more feverishly. “You know what we should try? You know, since you’re such a filthy girl.”

“What?” you asked, moaning as he fucked you on his tongue.

“Giving it to you up the ass,” he said. “I think that would be fun, don’t you agree?”

“And cut!” the director called.

You whined as Eddie broke away from you, standing up as he helped you. The director was coming onto the set to talk to the cameraman, both of them seemingly pleased with what they’d gotten. Eddie sat the mask and the knife down on the couch, grabbing a water as someone on set offered one. He handed it to you, and you accepted it with a big smile. You took a drink, and Eddie’s hand was on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. He pulled his pants back up and gestured for someone to bring over your clothes. You slipped them on once they did, and Eddie wrapped your jacket around your shoulders for you with a smile. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I? I tried to be as careful–”

“No, I’m okay,” you assured him. “Really. I just wasn’t used to someone that big.”

“A lot of the women aren’t,” he said with an apologetic grin. “I always ask them to let me go in slow and careful, but they never really let me. I guess they don’t want to shatter the illusion. It’s just…you were crying, and i was so scared that i was hurting you.”

“Well, I can promise you that I’m totally fine,” you said, taking another sip of the water. “Do you think we did well enough for them?”

“Oh, I think we did,” he said with a chuckle. 

“Something tells me they’ll be asking us to do another one together very soon,” you said. 

“In that case,” he said, smiling as he leaned closer to you and offered an arm. “How about I buy you dinner? I know I’ve worked up a hell of an appetite tonight.”

You grinned, taking his arm with a nod. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

____________

taglist: @littledemondani @andvys @wroteclassicaly @succubusmunson @eddieschains @trashmouth-richie @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @reidsbtch @taintedcigs @happylilthought @sunkillerdreamer @battymunson @whore4romance @hallovoid @harrys-housewife14 @alovesongtheywrote @filthy-gorgeous @emmyshortcake @softgoodsstyles @deathlyweird 

[munsonify]

ghostface!eddie munson moodboard

18+ mdni

[charliedawn]

Hey this is some stupid fear I have but how would some slasher ( whoever you want. ) React to a nurse who is young like in 20s and isn't scared at dying at a young age or isn't scared of dying like any time, but it's scared to grow up? It's really a stupid fear I have personal.

P.S you don't need to do it tho.

( sorry for the bad Grammer, English is my second language. )

Pennywise:

"Yeah. Growing up is scary, kid. I won’t lie to you. But, guess what ? It is part of the process." Pennywise hesitated before patting your head. "Cheer up. Being mortal isn’t all that bad. Living forever is a bore honestly."

Pennywise’s throat tightened as he realised that you would grow up. He knew it was a process and that in the blink of an eye…You would be gone. He waited a few seconds before surprising you by pulling you into a hug. Your eyes widened as you realised that he was shaking.

"Pennywise…" You uttered in a whisper before sighing and hugging him back.

He didn’t say anything. Truth was ? He was scared too. But, he didn’t want to tell you with words. So, he hugged you and hoped you’d understand that he was scared too…but that he was happy that whatever little life you had left, he’d be right next to you until the end.

Penny:

Penny lost so many people in his life that he asked Pennywise to erase his memories of the people he used to love. When you shared your fears with him however, he tilted his head and seemed to ponder on it for a moment before shrugging.

"I could make you live forever. Would you be happier if I did ? Make you immortal ?"

You started thinking about it.

Living forever ? You smiled sadly and shook your head negatively.

"Thank you, Penny. But…I don’t think I would like to live forever. Life is meant to be precious…It is not meant to go on forever."

Penny tilted his head and looked puzzled, but he didn’t say anything. It was odd. He had never seen his life as precious when he was alive. But yours ? His jaw twitched slightly. Yours. He valued.

Vincent Sinclair:

Vincent is an artist. He sees beauty in everything.

When he heard that you were scared of growing up, he just started taking as many pictures as he could of you and showed them to you. He then told you in sign language that you’d live forever—in his camera.

And that if you were scared ? Well, you just had to look at the photos and remember that that was how he would remember you forever. He then started stroking your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to calm you down.

Vincent knew he would eventually have to say goodbye.

But, to him ?

You would always remain a masterpiece.

Five Hargreeves:

"Growing up is scary. But, being stuck as a child is even worse. Children never get heard. I would know. I was a child. Twice."

He said and looked down. So many years spent in solitude. So many years wasted. He lived for decades and yet, Five never thought that he was truly alive. He was feeling better with his siblings, but he never actually had any moment in his life that he could say that he felt like he was enough or enough. Sometimes, he even wondered if the world would have been better without him.

It was only when he was admitted in St Louis that he realised he wanted to be something more and make his life a good one. It wasn’t until he met…you.

He looked at you and smiled.

"You gave me a life. And even when you get older and start forgetting about how you changed everything for me, I’ll be there to remind you. Every single day."

Jason Voorhees:

Jason never had a real childhood. He was bullied as a kid and his overprotective mother never allowed him to get out of her sight. When she died, he had no one to look after him and felt lost and lonely. He tried to reach out to people, but he could never create attachment with anyone.

So, he just kept killing and making sure people stayed away, because it was better than to get hurt.

And then, he met you.

He started caring for you more than he’d care to admit and soon enough, he wasn’t feeling as lonely anymore.

Jason *hugs you tightly*

Jason started looking up to you and even though he was also afraid of what will happen when you get too old to keep him company, he still wanted to keep you close to him—no matter how sad he would be once he would have to say goodbye.

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms looked at you and shook his head—as if he didn’t believe you.

"Y/N…Never going to grow old. Will stay young forever. Young forever with Brahms."

He hugged you and closed his eyes.

Deep down, he knew that you’d eventually grow old and disappear. But, in his mind ? You’d always be perfect. No matter how old you get or how afraid you get.

Brahms : "Don’t worry, Y/N. Brahms is here. Brahms will stay with you…"

He held back tears and just hugged you tighter.

Norman Bates:

Norman: "…Darling. Listen to me. I am the oldest slasher to have ever existed. I was born in 1932. I am old. Very old. But…I would give up a whole eternity just to be with you. So, it is not about having a long life, but a good one. A worthy life. And just meeting you made mine worth it. And if I was to die tomorrow ? I can say…I lived a good life." He smiled and stroked your cheek affectionately with his forefinger. "You should do the same. Stop worrying about when your time is gonna run out or because of the few wrinkles on your face. Just remember to have fun and enjoy your life. Take the advice of a man who’s seen it all."

He then put down a tray on the table.

"Now, tea ?"

Jack Torrance:

"Old ? Ah. Don’t you worry, sweetheart. You’ll be one hell of a cute old lady, if you get there." Jack never got the chance to grow old. He secretly misses being alive. He would have loved to grow old with his family and be a father to Danny. But, he never got there. He died—frozen and alone. He then came back as some sort of ghost who feeds on fear. So, no. Growing old isn’t something he would find scary, or losing you. Because he knows that when you do grow old and eventually leave this world, you will go to a nice place—unlike him. And if you don’t ? Well, you’d be trapped with him. Either way, he knows you’ll be alright. So, he isn’t worried.

"You’ll be fine. I know it. Now, stop worrying and come have a drink with me."

Hannibal Jr.:

"You will always be a Hannibal in my eyes. No matter how old or wrinkled you get…You will always be my beloved daughter." Hannibal Jr. told you when you shared your fears with him. He stroked your cheeks and smiled. "Always."

You smiled at him and hugged him tightly. He returned your hug and whispered in your ear.

"You will always be part of this family." He then kissed your forehead. "No matter what."

Ghostface (Eddie Munson):

"…Don’t worry. We will grow old together. It will be less lonely." Ghostface told you and smiled at you. Unlike the other slashers, Ghostface can grow old. He is not exactly a slasher. It is more of a multitude of people taking the role with time. Eddie won’t be Ghostface forever. Once his mission over, he will start growing old as well until he just gives his mask to someone new.

Ghostface *scoots closer to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders* : "I bet we will be the coolest old people ever…" *smiles*

[jqmunson]

I just wanna hear you scream....

What's the matter, y/n? You look like you've seen a ghost.

[rafescurtainbangz]

SCREAM x Stranger Things

(Chapter 1 & 2; drop 1 of 7) +18

Harrington | Hargrove | Munson

Minor DNI

Billy Hargrove x OC

Steve Harrington x OC

Eddie Munson x OC

4.8 K

written with my beautiful wifey and bestie @voyeurmunson

dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Warnings: Graphic violence/gore, SMUT, swearing, drinking, major character death, drug usage

Fingering, teasing, oral sex (female receiving), pet names

Chapter I - The Queen

10/18/2002 - Hawkins, Indiana...

Liquorwise

Chrissy Cunningham's POV:

"What do you want, Cunningham?" Jason breathes; glancing over your shoulder as you eye the liquor aisle.

"Malibu." He shudders in reply, giving you a side-eye. "You asked, Jase."

"Well, I'm gettin' beer." He slaps your ass before walking away, shooting you a wink.

Nothing... I feel nothing. I thought it would be different; the both of us being apart for so long, coming back together for the weekend. Some grand reunion of sorts. So far from reality. It's impossible to believe that Jason Carver could be a bigger dick than he already was... Maybe it's Greek life; maybe it's the newfound freedom, no longer under mommy and daddy's thumbs, allowing him to flourish to peak douchebaggery.

We'll see how this weekend goes. Maybe when I go back to Ohio I can just tell him this long-distance thing isn't for me. Find someone new... That wouldn't be the worst thing.

UV Blue or Malibu? How am I going to stuff this into my purse anyway? You look down into your handbag, assessing the space. "Just get a 375, babe," Carol sings, "they're behind the counter." She pulls you in for a side hug, resting her head on your shoulder. "Fuck. I missed you, Chriss. Have I said that enough?"

"I missed you too, babe," you sigh. "You smell good."

"Love Spell."

"Mmm," you hum. "I'm excited for you to come to Ohio State."

"Me too, Chriss. It's gonna be a blast. Roommates, baby. You're gonna hate me by the end of the year I can feel it."

"Impossible," you giggle.

"Carol. Where you at, baby?" Tommy meets her gaze, giving her a sweet smile. "I'm buyin'. C'mon." She struts away; brown curls bouncing as she shimmies her blue Juicy track pants a little lower on her hips; just a glimpse of her pink lace thong and a lower back tattoo.

You shake your head and smile, as you draw your purse closed. A few bottles clink, catching your attention.

Your heart skips as you see a familiar gaze, gaping at you through the line of colorful liquor bottles. Eddie Munson. Holy shit... You give him a soft smile; the phone vibrates a moment later.

He gives you a playful wink and a nod, solidifying the obvious; making your heart beat a little faster. I shouldn't look. He's like my kryptonite; a fuckin' magnet, pulling me in every time I'm back in Hawkins.

Jason and I were on a break last summer... Three days. Enough time for Eddie to swoop in, just for the night. I haven't forgotten it. I haven't had anything that good since. Eddie's, skilled fingers pleased me in ways I couldn't mimic... And trust me. I tried.

Why does he have to be so pretty?

He walks past the aisle, his body now visible throwing you off slightly; his normal Hellfire shirt and black Levi's exchanged for a tattered clown costume. "Fitting," Jason cuts; his jaw clenching as he looks at him. Eddie scoffs and chuckles, breathily; shaking his head as he steps to the counter.

Your eyes track him, hearing his conversation with the clerk. That voice... You feel a heat spread across your body. He points up to the shelf, getting a small bottle of Black Velvet whiskey and a pack of smokes to go with his case of PBR.

"Let's wait 'til the trash leaves," Jason grumbles, swathing his arms lazily around your waist.

"Why are you being such a dick, Jason? We aren't in High School anymore," you sigh, nudging your way out of his arms; walking toward the till.

You look out into the dim Hawkins evening, watching Eddie's face glow in the light of his flame, sucking his cigarette as he shuffles to his van. Where's his van? Damn... You purse your lips, drawing them to the side; holding back your little smile as you watch him mount his black motorcycle.

Maybe I should just see what he said?

You reach for your phone, snatching it from your pocket; stuffing it back inside as you feel Jason press up against you, handing over his beer and a wad of cash.

"Thanks, Jase," you whisper.

"Of course, princess."

You breathe deeply, fighting off the memories of those words leaving Eddie's lips. No use. You glance out into the parking lot, scouring for his bike; his spot, taken by another.

Why do I care?

I do care... A lot.

The four of you make your way to Jason's Jeep, Tommy and Carol climb in the backseat, immediately pawing at each other as you lean your head against the headrest, shutting your eyes.

I wonder where Eddie's going...

"What's wrong, babe?" Jason's voice shakes you from your thoughts.

"Nothing." You open your sights, smiling softly in his direction, doing your best to mask your feelings.

"Is this about Munson?"

"Seriously, Jason?" You groan; crossing your arms, gaze falling toward the window.

"Someone's jealous," Tommy taunts from the backseat, making Jason glare at him through the rearview mirror.

"Fuck you. I'm not jealous of some fuckin' super senior dressed as a clown," he hisses; his expression darkening as he challenges Tommy to mention him again.

"He graduated, dipshit. And, I heard he's packin'," Carol laughs as she smacks her gum obnoxiously. "This big," she gossips; holding out her hands in an attempt to show just how big the rumors suggested.

Not helping, Carol.

"Yeah... Sure." Jason scoffs in disbelief as Tommy pinches Carol's side playfully, making her squeal.

"Can we just talk about something else? Literally anything else," you snip, your tone coming out a little harsher than expected.

"But it's funny..." Tommy bullies; pushing Jason even further. "Carver bein' jealous of the freak and all..." You glance over and see Jason's face turning a deep shade of red; hands, digging into the steering wheel.

"You're a dick. And if anyone should be jealous, it should be you, Tommy. Shrimp dick Hagan? Isn't that right, Carol?" Jason winks back at her making you roll your eyes.

"I'm a grower, not a shower. And, you're neither. So..." Tommy snickers.

Jason slams on the brakes, propelling the duo forward; bodies smacking into the backs of your seats.

"Jesus fuck, Carver!" Tommy yelps. Jason chuckles to himself, loosening in his seat slightly.

"No fucking way!" Jason gripes as you fall in line, slowing to a crawl; a string of break lights glowing ahead, drifting into Jones Family Farm.

You glance out the window, excitement building as you see Eddie's motorcycle parked on the side of the gravel road. You watch as he steps off, plucking a cigarette from his carton; plopping it between his lips.

"There's the freak now," Jason burns. He honks his horn loudly, making Eddie jump. Eddie glares your way, eyes zeroing in on Jason; flipping him the bird. "What a joke," Jason clips, rolling his window down and sticking his head out as Eddie turns away, walking in the opposite direction.

"You followin' us, Munson?" Jason hollers, making Eddie stop in his tracks.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Eddie retorts; a cool smile on his lips, seemingly unbothered by Jason and his antics.

"Let's just have fun. Alright?" You sigh; eyes, begging Jason to drop it.

"You two are killin' the vibe," Carol mumbles. "Mostly you, Carver. You on your period or what?" She spits through a cruel laugh.

"You're pretty funny, baby," Tommy chuckles; leading her out of the car. The door slams shut behind them, leaving you and Jason behind.

His jaw coils, fingers threading around the steering wheel once more. He stares ahead, looking out into the crowd of people, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows harshly.

"You don't think I don't see the way you look at him, Chriss. I do... I always have."

"Munson?" You whisper, weakly. "Jase... He means nothing to me. He's just a friend. Only a friend. I wouldn't even call him that really."

"Promise?" He asks, hastily; his eyes softening as he looks at you.

"I promise..."

Jason nods; face, still pensive. You can tell he's completely unconvinced. It doesn't really matter... He knows that you'd never end up with Eddie regardless.

"I love you, Chrissy," he breathes.

"Love you," you push the words past your lips, giving him your best smile.

"Let's fuckin' go, Carver," Tommy calls out from the ticket line; his arms wrapped lazily around Carol's waist.

"You ready, baby?" Jason whispers.

"Ready, Jase." He swiftly steps out of the car, trotting around the front. Jason tugs the door open; helping you from your seat, weaving his fingers into yours. He draws them up to his lips, kissing the top. His blue eyes sparkle in the low lighting.

"You look beautiful by the way, Chriss," he coos.

"Thank you."

A cool autumn breeze swirls; leaves, crunching under your boots as you walk toward the gate. There's a mob of people gathered at the front, an absolute mess; clambering to the entry.

"Single-file line, people," Sheriff Hopper booms. "Single. File."

He ushers the crowd, herding the masses with his partner, Officer Jones. A familiar face pushes through the horde.

"Hargrove! How are you, man?"

"Carver," Billy answers, simply; his low gruff tone matching his appearance as he walks away, ambling through the parking lot toward his Camaro. He looks a mess; a dirt-stained Jones Farms sweatshirt and his tight Levis, hugging his muscular thighs. He adjusts his hat, turning it backward, the same logo on top; his sandy blonde mullet poking out the sides.

"Does Hargrove work here?" Jason asks, confusedly. "I thought he went to San Diego State?" Billy seals the deal, stuffing a pair of weathered work gloves into his back pocket.

"Maybe he took a gap year?" You shrug.

"A gap year when you have a full ride at a D1 school? Please... Be real, Chriss. He probably fucked up or something," he snickers. "Runs in the family I guess."

You hear his motor start up; Billy, quickly peels out, kicking up rocks as he races toward the exit, disappearing into the night.

"Damn... This place never changes. Does it?" Carol sighs, happily; giving you a smile as she draws your attention back to the group.

"It doesn't." You look out into the sea of people. "I love this place, Care."

"Me too. We've been comin' here for what, eight years now?"

"Damn... I guess," you chuckle. "We should share that apple cider thing... Do you remember?"

"Mmm... Please."

"You give 'em five dollars back, dingus!"

"You don't need the calculator, Robin. Give it to me," Steve grumbles.

"It's basic math, Harrington. You don't need a calculator." The two quarrel.

"We're going for speed and efficiency, Robin," he sasses; drawing out each word as he matches her stare, looking back at her in disgust. "Do you see this line?"

Robin takes two fingers, sliding the calculator over as she rolls her eyes away. "You are going to school for education... You sure about that, Harrington?"

"I just have to be smarter than a Kindergartener, Buckley." He gives her a little scowl, quickly double-checking his math; handing the couple their change.

"Two tickets."

"Please," you smile, sweetly; adding a little kindness to Jason's demand.

"Hey, Chrissy," Robin greets you, nudging Steve as well. He gives you that Hawkins famous smile, making Jason suck his teeth.

"This a class reunion or what?" Jason asks, condescendingly. "You guys doing anything these days or are you still hangin' out in Hawkins?"

"We go to ISU... Workin' here on the weekends during the fall," Steve adds; unappreciative of Jason's tones, taking one of his own. "Robin just gave you your tickets, Carver. You can probably go."

Jason chuckles, more at them than anything. "Losers," he puffs; not man enough to look Steve in the eye as he delivers his last little dig. Steve widens his gaze, holding back his laugh.

"Well, it was nice seeing you Chriss," he softens his tone; giving you a gentle smile.

"You too, Steve."

You eye the line of people; wrapped around the corner, seeing some familiar faces amongst the large group. No Eddie... I only saw him for a second and he's already completely taken over my thoughts.

"What's the policy on leaving this shithole? You girls wanna stand in line? Hagan and I can pop a few beers in the parking lot or something. This is horrendous," Jason complains as you come to a stop, taking your place at the back of the line.

"It'll be fun, babe," you try; nudging him softly with your shoulder, trying to lighten the mood.

"Sure," Jason grunts as he pops the beer bottle open with his class ring, shifting his attention to Tommy; lofting one at him as well. "We'll just get wasted in line then."

"Good idea, Carver," Tommy smiles.

You take the free moment to slip your phone out of your pocket, checking Eddie's text from earlier.

You blush as you read his compliment, shifting your phone away from Jason and the others as you contemplate whether to respond or not. You bite your lip lightly as you text a quick reply.

You glance over at Jason; completely lost in his own world, ignoring you entirely as he talks to Tommy about Phi Kappa Psi. Bitching about his new pledges. Your phone trembles in your pocket almost instantly.

Oh shit... You smile dizzily as your mind wanders back to a few months ago when you drunk-dialed Eddie, feeling the urge to tell him about the tiny tattoo you just got after one too many Jell-O shots.

Okay. Shit... What's the plan? I'll just go to the bathroom. Run into someone along the way. Nancy maybe? See him... Wait.

"Umm... I'm going to get that apple cider thing. Save my spot?" You ask, Carol. "Want one?" Your voice is softened; just loud enough for her to hear, letting Carol do the hard work for you if Jason asks where you went.

"Hell yeah. Thanks, Chriss. You're too good to me."

"Be right back," you beam.

You step away, bleeding quickly into the crowd; falling out of sight almost instantly. Alright... You look over at the concession line; packed as well. Perfect.

Fuck. This will buy me at least twenty minutes. Enough time to say 'hi' at least. Maybe give him a hug...

Who am I kidding? I know exactly what I want.

You can't help the excitement building in your chest as you push open the door of the small storage building. The heavy metal slams shut behind you, leaving you in complete darkness.

"Shit... Eddie?" You whisper.

"You came," his low voice hits your ears from somewhere in the shadows.

"Of course I did," you reply, sheepishly; stepping closer, following in the direction of his voice. Your arms reach out in front of you as your eyes struggle to adjust to the unlit room.

"Um... Eddie? I can't see anything," you laugh, lightly; coming to a standstill as your toe hits something hard on the floor.

"Oh shit. Sorry, sweetheart," he chuckles; reaching up, tugging the small chain hanging from the ceiling. The bulb flickers, crackling a few times before stalling to a dim yellow.

You glance around seeing costumes hanging all around you, creepy masks strung on the wall; a trunk full of weapons covered in blood, and a small vanity with stage makeup scattered messily across the old wooden top.

"So, this is where you work?" You turn your head back in his direction, seeing his warm brown eyes already on you, making your stomach flutter.

"Yeah, just a little side gig for fall. I get to dress up and scare the shit out of every fucker I hate in this town. So, it works for me." He shrugs his shoulders, a wolfish grin plastered on his face.

"How the hell do you make a clown costume look that good?" You giggle; taking in his ensemble. His toned chest is exposed slightly; a loose-fitting button-up draped on his frame, patches of red and black sewn on top of the raggedy white material.

"I ask myself that question all the time," he laughs, weakly as his cheeks blush. You adjust the ruffly black, collar around his neck. Your eyes drift up to his; Eddie's breath hitching as yours align. The light casts a golden glow over his perfect features, his eyes glinting wildly; that same untamed spark burning bright in his dark stare.

If only I could have him. I know he would be everything I wanted. The complete opposite of Jason; kind and funny. And, so fucking hot. Eddie would treat me like a princess.

But I can't. I could never be with Eddie. Not like that.

He steps closer to you, his eyes roaming your body slowly as he takes in each curve.

"You look beautiful, Chriss," he whispers, using the same words Jason said earlier. It meant nothing when it came from his mouth; but, hearing the words fall from Eddie's lips made your body tingle all over.

Your eyes shut, as his fingers begin to trace up your arm lightly. He leans in close; lips, meeting your ear as his fingers switch direction, making their way back down your arm, stopping at the hem of your skirt.

"Eddie, wait..."

His eyes flick to yours, one hand still resting on your thigh.

"My tattoo... it's here," you whisper; unzipping the front of your denim skirt, pulling the fabric down enough to reveal the small butterfly peeking out from beneath the lace of your light pink panties.

A smile spreads on his lips as he leans down just a bit, tracing his thumb over the ink, sending warmth across your body.

"Chrissy Cunningham with a tattoo? Now I've seen it all..." He hums as he drops to his knees, looking up at you with a hunger in his eyes. "You're a bad girl, sweetheart. Aren't you?"

"Only for you, Eddie." You surprise yourself as the words flee your lips. You couldn't help it. Every part of you craving more from him. Wanting to know what it would be like to be with him fully. Just one time.

"Only for me?" He mumbles, lustfully; leaning closer, pressing his lips to the small tattoo, his tongue skims along your skin, causing your knees to buckle slightly. A dark chuckle leaves his lips.

"Y-Yes," you stutter as he grips the hem of your skirt, pushing it up above your waist.

"Did you miss me, Chrissy?" He murmurs; hands slipping in between your thighs, separating them slightly.

"Of course, Eddie. You're my friend," you sigh, coyly; looking down at his mess of curls as he guides your legs even further apart. Eddie snickers at your reply, his fingertips gradually inching up your inner thigh agonizingly slow.

"Just a friend?" He asks just as his fingers reach your warmth, causing you to inhale sharply. He adds a bit of pressure, teasing you through the thin material of your tights.

"You know I'm with Jason, Eds. We can't be more than friends," you whisper, breathily; the contact with him making you feel lightheaded.

"Really good friends?" He flirts as his fingers begin making small circles over your clit, causing your lashes to flutter.

"Really, really good friends, Eddie," you pant; pussy aching for his skin on yours.

"Chrissy?" Eddie mutters as his eyes flick back up toward you.

"Yes, Eds?"

"If you want me to stop, you need to say it now," he burns, his tone dark and delicious.

You shake your head adamantly. "Fuck, Eddie. Don't stop," you plead.

A wicked smirk appears on his beautiful face as he takes your tights in between his fingers, ripping the material slightly, leaving your panties the only thing keeping him from you.

"Eddie, please..." You whimper; feeling his warm breath against your soaked panties. He slips the damp lace to the side making you moan.

"Shh, baby. Don't worry. I'm gonna take care of you. But I wanna take my time," Eddie rasps, leaning closer, bringing his lips to your inner thigh.

"Don't you have to go to wo-" He silences you with his fingers brushing across your dripping slit, just enough pressure to drive you crazy, your pussy throbbing intensely. "Eddie," you whine.

"You want something, baby girl?" He continues gliding gently across your lips, your frustration growing with every second. I know he can be rough with me... I remember it vividly. Just fucking do it, Eddie.

"Please touch me."

"What about your boyfriend?" Eddie chuckles, devilishly; his finger continuing to torture your bud.

"I-I want you, Eddie," you admit, softly; cheeks flushing at the mention of Jason.

"Want me?" He questions as his digits begin a circular motion, toiling around your clit; making you whimper.

"Need you... Eddie, I need you!"

Eddie's eyes darken at your pathetic response, a delicious smirk pulling on his lips.

"Good answer, sweetheart." You let out a soft cry as he finally slips a thick finger into your warmth, the evidence of your excitement clear as Eddie glides in easily.

"Fuck, baby. How do you think Carver would feel knowing his girl is this wet for The Freak? Hmm?" Eddie digs, plunging his finger deeper into your soaked pussy making you gasp.

Your phone buzzes in your jacket pocket making Eddie pause momentarily.

"Speak of the devil..." He grumbles but you ignore him, reaching down; gripping his arm.

You tug on Eddie's wrist, regaining his attention. He follows your unspoken demand, slowly sinking his fingers back into your cunt. You wince slightly as he adds another; but, the pain adds to the pleasure that you're already so addicted.

"Shit... You gonna let me have you later, Cunningham?" He groans as you both listen to the sound of your slick.

"Faster," you cry.

Eddie hooks an arm around your waist, forcing you to remain at his pace, decreasing his speed instead as his eyes focus on watching your essence coat his fingers.

Fuck, he knows me better than I do.

He curls his fingers, rolling them in and out; in and out, each thrust making the knot in your stomach build. You clasp his shoulders tightly as you begin to rock your hips just a bit, making his digits sink knuckle-deep.

"Yes... I'm almost - Fuck, Eddie. I'm almost there," you whimper.

"Already?" Eddie smiles; gripping your thigh, slinging it over his shoulder before locking down on your clit, sucking and flicking; with enough tension to make you scream.

"Just... Just like that," you praise, breathily. Cradling his head in your hands, pulling him in closer as you pulse around his fingers.

He replaces his mouth with his thumb, smiling up at you; watching you carefully, pleasing you to the last possible moment. Letting up slightly when you soften around him.

"That was fuckin' beautiful, Chriss... Shit. You want more, darlin'?" He rasps.

"Please..."

"So fuckin' polite," he chuckles. Your phone buzzes again. "Someone really wants to get a hold of you, baby. You should probably take that. Yeah?" He says, calmly; a small grin on his face.

"No, I don't think-"

"Take. It." He demands, cutting you short.

"Eddie..."

"I won't make a sound. Scouts honor." He winks up at you, making you smile.

"Promise?"

"I swear."

You pull the phone from your pocket, seeing Jason's name on the screen; hurriedly bringing it to your ear. "Hey, Jase."

"Where are you? You've been gone forever." His voice crackles through the phone; cell service, weakened in the shed.

"Sorry, I ran-" You stop suddenly as you feel Eddie's fingers enter you again.

Shit.

"Chriss? You there?"

"Mhmm.. Sorry. I was just saying I ran into Nancy." You push the words out, doing your best to remain calm as Eddie curls his digits again, stroking across your g spot.

"Wheeler?"

"Mmm... Mhmm."

"Well, you haven't missed much. The line's still backed up a mile. Tell Nance I say 'hey'," he continues, completely oblivious to the pleasure felt on the other end of the line.

"Yeah. Of course. I gotta... Oh!" You gasp as Eddie's tongue flashes across your clit; fumbling your device as you struggle to hang up the phone. CLICK. "Fuck!" You rake your nails through Eddie's curls, tugging them in frustration; causing him to moan. "You said you'd be quiet," you huff, lightly; glaring down at him.

He chuckles playfully, an adorable grin plastered on his kiss-swollen lips. "I said I wouldn't make a sound. I didn't say anything about you, Chriss."

"You're impossible, Eds," you sough, reaching down and running your thumb over his plump bottom lip.

"Sorry 'bout your tights," he sighs; not sorry in the slightest as his calloused finger greets your inner thigh, right along the tear. He leans in slowly kissing your skin; eyes, locked on yours.

"You're not..."

"Fuck. You're right," he chuckles, breathily; quickly burying his face between your thighs.

You moan as he begins to pick up speed. The forceful thrusts of his hand are audible as his palm smacks against your pussy, his fingers slamming deep inside over and over again.

Your sounds crescendo, praise; pouring from your lips as your cunt clenches around his ringed fingers. Eddie knows you're close, adding his thumb as well, rubbing side to side; making your thighs quake.

"Fuck, Eddie!"

"Don't cum until I say," he orders.

"But I-"

"God, you're so wet," he cuts in; watching in adoration as his fingers pound into you. "The Queen of Hawkins screaming my name. Begging me to let her cum. And, I've gotten to hear it twice. " he chuckles, laboriously. "Fuck, Chriss. It's a dream come true."

Your back begins to arch suddenly, causing you to stumble backward; hitting the wall. Eddie doesn't stop; fingers working at an insane pace making you squeal.

"I'm so close... Eddie. I can't..." You mumble, drunkenly; feeling a pleasure you've never felt before. He's so rough; but, so tender at the same time; his hands, like magic as he hits all the right spots, driving you wild.

"Has Jason ever made you cum, sweetheart?" He matches your gaze with his dark, hooded eyes; a look on his face telling you he already knows the answer. He raises an eyebrow, slowing his pace slightly; threatening to stop.

"No..." You answer, feebly.

He lets out a gravelly laugh, rolling his eyes. "Thought so."

"Please let me cum, baby," you cry as your eyes struggle to remain open.

"Baby? Well, fuck me..." He moans. "I could get used to that."

"Shit," you hiss.

"Look at me." Your gaze locks on his; Eddie's brown eyes blown with lust. "So Jason's never made you feel this good?" Eddie taunts.

"Eddie..." You breathe.

"Has he?" In a twisted way, his words push you even closer to your breaking point. "Tell me who makes you feel good, sweetheart," he hums, lustfully. You glance down, keeping your eyes set on his as you fight against your orgasm, your body nearly betraying you with every rut.

"You do, Eddie. You do," you moan.

"That's right, sweetheart... Mmm... Cum for me, Princess," he drawls; watching as you fall apart. Your pussy clamps down around his fingers, spasming again and again as your mouth falls slack.

"Eddie," his name flows, languidly from your lips as your head falls back. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck into you as you ride the waves of your orgasm. "Oh, s-shit..." You look between your thighs, watching as you soak his hand.

"Good girl. Good fuckin' girl," Eddie grunts; his lips parted, taking pleasure in your own.

He slowly removes his digits, making you gasp; drawing his middle and pointer fingers to his rosy lips, tasting you slowly. "So fuckin' sweet," he whispers; looming over you before kissing your forehead.

His lips move from your cheek onto your neck, brushing gently along your skin as your breathing slows.

"Eddie, kiss me." The urgency in your breathy tone is undeniable. "We're running out of time."

You can feel him smile against your neck before his soft lips meet your skin again. Eddie's kisses are gentle and warm, dismissing your requests yet again as he maintains his cadence, moving along your jaw, finally landing on your lips.

"I said 'I wanted to take my time', Chriss."

His lips capture yours in a passionate kiss. You cling to the tattered material of his costume, gripping the fabric; pulling him closer as your tongues roll together. The two of you pant into your kiss as Eddie pins you against the cool wooden wall.

"I want you, Eds. Please," you mumble against his lips as your hand wanders down, groping his clothed cock, groaning desperately as you feel his size. "Let me make you feel good. Please."

Eddie pulls away, making your eyes narrow in confusion.

"Not now. Tonight. I'm coming over."

"B-But we have time," you whisper, needily; as you stroke him through his slacks, pulling a deep moan from Eddie. "Jason said the line was super long and-" He reaches out, gripping your jaw in his hand, demanding your attention.

"I'm in charge, Chrissy."

You suck in a breath; surprised by his tone, making it that much harder to wait.

"Fuck, Eddie. You're in charge."

A smile spreads across his lips, as his eyes look down at yours.

"Tonight?" You whisper Eddie's captivating eyes flick up to yours, drawing you in deeper.

"Tonight, sweetheart."

 Chapter II - The Last Laugh

Chrissy Cunningham's POV:

"Nothin' like waiting an hour in line," Jason scoffs. "This better be good."

"Stop being such a bitch, Carver," Carol sighs as she takes Tommy's hand, stepping into the wagon.

"Should we go in the back?" Jason asks.

"Mhmm," you smile. "It's the best place to sit."

The tractor fires up, rattling the buggy as your excitement starts to build. Jason wraps his arm around your waist, towing you closer. He buries himself in your neck, kissing you softly before drawing back.

"New perfume?"

You give him a little smile and a nod, trying your best to remain calm. Jason, so clearly picking up hints of Eddie's cologne. You grab the fabric, giving it a smell yourself, taking him in. I didn't think I missed him this much.

"Love Spell," you smile.

"Welcome to Jones Family Farm. You are about to embark on the Cursed Grounds Hayride and Haunted House. Please make sure you remain in the wagon and keep your arms and legs inside at all times. Please do not touch our Scare Actors and Actresses," the tractor driver shouts over his motor before stepping on the gas.

You're pulled forward as the ride begins, conversation and excitement brewing around you. "Oh, and the hayride is fifteen minutes in length. If there is a medical emergency, please tell me, and we'll get you some assistance. We will end at the Cursed Grounds Haunted House. Once you go through the haunted house, you will exit at the Jones Family Farm Gift Shop. Thank you for coming out and spending your evening with us. And enjoy the ride."

Jason turns toward you, the warmth of his whisper hitting your chilled skin. "Are you comin' over tonight?"

"I don't think I can, Jase... I have to be at the airport by 4 a.m."

"Well, shit," he huffs. "Maybe I can sneak in." His hand glides between your thighs, dangerously close to the tear.

"Yeah. Can we talk about it later?"

Jason furrows his brows, looking back at you confusedly. "Are we okay? Why don't you wanna hang out with me," he asks, defensively.

"I do," you assure. "It's already 10. And, I can't really do anything... Or, at least you wouldn't want to," you lie.

His eyes widen, as he puts the pieces together, wincing slightly in disgust. "Yeah, Chriss. Get some sleep," he chuckles.

Unbelievable. You can't help but roll your eyes. The simple mention of period sex and he's off my ass... What a man. Eddie wouldn't care. We'd probably take a shower together... A little smirk plays on your lips as you daydream about the thought of it; Eddie's tight body and deep brown curls glistening with water. He'd show me his tattoos... BUZZ.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, instantly giving you the butterflies. Pulling it out you eye the message, sneaking a peek.

Feedback crackles through the speakers; a low, ominous voice setting the scene as the wagon crawls slowly toward the woods.

"If you've made it this far, welcome. You surely won't return," the voice laughs, viciously. You smile even brighter hearing the spiel you've heard more than a dozen times. Carol looks over at you, reciting the words. "These woods were once a beautiful place. A place of gathering and new life. Now, for most, the end of the line. A dark curse was placed on these grounds. Every October, evil runs free; ghosts, ghouls, and horrific creatures of all kinds take refuge in these woods. If you pass these trees, you are venturing onto cursed grounds. Run while you can." The audio cuts away.

You pass the threshold between the field and the woods. The dull music playing from afar now surrounds you on all sides, competing with the roar of the tractor. Little lights strung from the trees carve out a path in the woods, giving you just enough light to see the route in front of you.

Your heart beats a little faster as you wait for the first scare. Sure, there are little stops along; a different dreadful theme each time; but, there are always people hiding, lurking about, trying their best to make you scream.

"Fuck!" You squeak; falling into Jason slightly as the first monster appears; a werewolf with piercing yellow eyes, in a threadbare flannel shirt. He snarls, his mask allowing him to move his jaw and bear teeth as he swipes his large paw before falling back into the woods.

You giggle nervously, situating yourself on the hay-padded seat again; peering out into the timber to see if there's anyone else waiting for a fright. It's extremely dark, the dense forest blending together making it impossible to see anything else.

Your attention shifts to the tune swelling ahead, building as you move closer; the Halloween theme, simple and haunting. The tractor wads to a stop, cutting off the engine.

There's a white façade of a home, all the lights lit brightly. The wind billows the yellow cotton curtains; peaceful for a moment. Your stomach sinks as you hear a blood-curdling scream coming from inside. All eyes turn to the top floor, watching as Michael stabs his victim again and again.

Moments later he kicks open the door; standing in the frame as smoke pours out from behind him. The tractor starts again, dragging the wagon down the path as he descends the stairs slowly, stalking your party.

"Shit," you hiss; hiding behind your hands, caught off-guard by the shrieking of a nun. Her red bloody eyes stare deeply into yours. She draws out a large crucifix, sharpened at the end; driving it into a hay bale, close enough to a guest to make her cry before fleeing back into the woods.

The next melody plays ahead; a haunted circus. Eddie... You fluff your hair and move yourself a little further away from Jason as the tractor hauls you closer. You pass under the sign Last Laugh Circus lit colorfully overhead; a few bulbs flickering out.

There's a rickety carousel with four horses, creaking as it turns slowly. The four clowns' heads shift gradually, following your cart as you drive by. One slides the blade of her bloody knife along the handlebar, sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

A haunted ringmaster runs out of the tattered circus tent, face painted in fury. "Don't let them get away!" She bellows; her voice, echoing through the night. The clowns leap from the ride, scaling the wooden sides; pulling on guests.

You feel two strong hands wrap around your throat, making you draw a breath; feeling the familiar chill against your skin, just enough pressure to let you know who has you in their clutches. "Hi, Sweetheart," he whispers, setting all your nerves ablaze.

"Fuck off, man!" Jason plows him off. Eddie doesn't miss a beat; stepping down from the cart lazily as he slips his hand into his pocket; phone glowing brightly, quickly shoving it back in his pocket.

Buzz.

You feel your phone vibrate yet again.

"Prick," Jason grumbles. Crossing his arms tightly across his chest. "What the fuck was that?" He scoffs. "Do they always get to touch you like that? We should say something?"

"Jase, stop," you grumble. "They always do that stuff." He rolls his eyes away, looking dead ahead.

"Pretty sure that was Munson. Jackass... He always wears those stupid fuckin' rings. Who the fuck does he think he is anyway?" He pouts.

"I don't think it was him... Will you stop? Why are you ruining this, Jase?"

"Sorry, Chriss," he draws breath; weaving his fingers into yours, giving your hand a tight squeeze. "I'm not jealous at all... Just want to make that crystal fuckin' clear."

Sure. "Mhmm," you smile; giving him a little nod. Jason looks away, staring into the wood; playing guard dog in case Eddie tries anything else. Not jealous at all...

You sneak a peek at your phone.

Jesus Christ...

Dreamlike music blares over the speakers; a thick fog rolling all around. "Maybe I can still come over tonight. Cuddle or something?" Jason asks.

"What?" You reply; evading his question. "I can't hear," you mouth; quickly swerving his further advances.

There's a teen girl with golden blonde hair and a white silk nightgown, tucked into her flouncy pink bedding. The lights around her shift from white to red, the music changing along with it as she drifts into a nightmare.

You see a gloved hand reaching up from behind the wooden headboard; five razors at the tip of each finger. Freddy Krueger.

His hands wrap around the frame, peering over maniacally. Freddy slashes across the comforter, making the girl scream in terror.

Monsters of all kinds come out from underneath the bed, sprinting toward the cart. Ghosts and ghouls, demons and zombies. A chainsaw buzzes; thundering in your chest. He thrusts his saw forward, making you fall back in your seat. Carol hugs you tight, tucking her face into your chest as she screams.

"Uh oh," Tommy laughs.

You look over at Jason; watching as an actor draws his blade; grabbing a fist full of Jason's hair before running the knife along his neck. The three of you scream and laugh; looking around for the rest of the monsters.

"Chr-" Jason lets out a gurgly noise. You glance back at him, matching his wide eyes; stomach twisting as you see the horror on his face. A set of hands take a grip on the shoulders of his letter jacket, ripping him from the cart, and onto the ground.

"Jason!" You yelp; diving over to the edge, looking down into the thick pool of smoke. The fog is too dense to make out anything on the floor.

There's no fucking way he would be playing along with any of this.

"Stop!" You scream. The rest of the wagon looks back at you, returning their attention to the terror around them as you look down into the mass of vapor. "Jason? Jason!"

"Jason, come on. This isn't funny anymore." Tommy shouts, standing up in the cart; looking over your shoulder onto the ground; aiming to get a better view.

"Ugh... Fucking Carver. Always gotta be the center of attention," Carol snips, glancing down at her perfectly polished nails.

The ghoul surfaces from the fog, drawing the knife above his head. He stabs into the earth again and again. Blood flicks from his blade, splattering his white-faced mask.

"Hey fucktard, let him up!" Tommy booms at the actor, causing his head to whip around; white mask, glowing. A set of eyes glare at you; pupils too dilated to make out a hue.

You watch carefully as he stands up, wielding the knife in his fist. Blood drips as he dangles it by his side.

You start to feel your panic set in.

"It's just part of the act. Tommy's right. Jason is just trying to add a little extra flair... Right? RIGHT!"

"Show's over, come on man." Tommy grunts. The ghoul stands staring at Tommy for a moment before turning in your direction, the silver knife glinting under the moon.

He drives it into the person next to you, the tip of that same blade; peeking out of the chest of the old man's flannel shirt. Blood drips thick, the knife pulling back slowly.

His wife is frozen in fear; the rest of the guests screaming in horror, fleeing the wagon in every direction.

A single word flies from Tommy's lips, booming into the night.

" Run !"

Your eyes cut to Tommy then back to the killer, watching as he twirls the knife in his fingers.

"Jason!" You scream one more time, your mind refusing to accept the reality of the situation as Carol pulls you back. "We can't just leave him. He can't be dead. We can't see him, Tommy! We can't just-"

"Chrissy, c'mon," Tommy begs; grabbing Carol's arm, jerking her away. The two of them flee; leaving you behind.

"Wait!" You tear through the woods, following close behind; feeling the mud squish beneath your Uggs as you race towards the exit. Sticks fracture beneath you; branches whipping you as you run as fast as your feet will go.

People and actors sprint by, some still in their costumes; making it that much harder to determine who's who.

The only way out is through the woods or the haunted house. The woods lead to the parking lot. The haunted house leads to the gift shop; police, people... The nature of it posing risks all of its own.

The woods... There's not even a gate. We can run right to the Jeep. Your lungs burn as you run harder and faster than you ever have, trying your best to keep up with Tommy and Carol.

"Wait... No!" You scream as they head toward the haunted house. "Shouldn't we go through the woods?"

"No!" Tommy spits. "Are you serious? There's no one over there, Chrissy. Look at all those fucking people." He points to the clearing in the cornfield. The haunted house shone brightly in the distance, littered with people. He grabs Carol's hand, tugging her again as she looks back at you; tears glossing her cheeks.

"I love you, Chriss. I'm sorry," she blubbers.

People are still running through the woods to the parking lot, not enough... Only a few people actually know what happened. Your body trembles, lip quivering as you try your best to think of the right choice. They're right... Look at all those people. I don't want to be alone.

You hear an ominous laugh coming from behind you making your stomach sink; turning quickly you look out into the woods.

Emptiness... Darkness...

"Carol!" You call out. She stops in her tracks, fighting against Tommy as he continues to pull her to safety. "Wait! Please."

"Keep going!" Tommy grunts.

"Stop, Tommy. Fuck!" Carol hisses; the two waiting just until you are in arm's reach before taking off again.

The world around you lightens as you run closer and closer to security.

The three of you press into the crowd. Screams echo around you, bodies pushing and shoving a mix of people aware and unaware of the slayings; some enjoying the night, some attempting to escape the nightmare behind them.

Your foot slips out from beneath you, plunging you face-first into the crowd, tasting the dirt in your mouth as you scramble to get back on your feet. You watch helplessly as the two pass through the door without you.

"Carol!" You shriek at the top of your lungs. No. No. No! They're already gone. Tears flood your cheeks as you sprint toward the building; shouldering your way through the crowd, stumbling through the door.

Your usual fright of the haunted house is completely overshadowed by the very real threat following behind you.

"Chrissy..." A chilling voice comes from someplace close. Too fucking close.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you cross the entry into the house. Strobe lights instantly blind you. A thick fog hangs heavy in the air as your eyes dart around the room. You hear creepy music playing as you spin about, frantically searching for someone, anyone.

"Help! Somebody help me!" You wail into the void as you misstep across the wooden floor. A track of high-pitched screams and cries plays along with the music, filling the air as you rush to make it through the smoke-filled room.

Your vision is blurred by the murky fog, impeding your visibility. You run your fingers along the wall, scouring for a way out; feeling your heart nearly bursting out of your chest as you finally reach the doorframe.

Shit. It's a tight squeeze, your claustrophobia at an all-time high as the dim hallway appears to shrink with every step you take.

"Fuck!" you wail as a skeleton drops from the rafters, dangling in front of you. You plow through the bones, shoving them to the side as you take off running once again. "Carol! Tommy!"

You hear laughter ahead along with a few screams; innocent screams. You can tell it's not the soundtrack, they're real. Yes.

You bound toward them, snaking through the maze; dodging ghouls and monsters, as they grab and swipe at you.

"Help! Please help me!" You plead. The tween girls hoot and laugh; scampering in the wrong direction. No. You race ahead, following the glowing arrows to the exit.

"Chrissy..." You hear the voice again, just as your feet land on a softer material.

Shit. Your feet begin to fall into the ground, as the quicksand floor pulls you in, usually one of your favorite parts now slowing you down; practically hand-feeding you to the killer.

"Carol! Tommy... Please," you weep as you work against the odds; your feet sludging on, calling out for your friend.

"Poor thing..."

Your body freezes completely as you feel the hot breath against your neck. Your throat constricts, robbing your lungs of oxygen.

You feel him behind you, the cool plastic of the mask nudged against your cheek; chest, butted up against your back.

"P-Please don't hurt me," you stammer.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna play a game," the masked man taunts in a mechanical voice.

"What? What game?" you sob; your breathing coming out in small spurts as your lungs reach for air.

"Ever heard of cat and mouse, Chrissy?" He proceeds in a sinister tone. You feel the tip of his blade press into your lower back, nicking your skin; hissing out a cry.

"Yes," you whimper as you feel a warm trail of blood run down your skin.

"Run little mouse," he growls; shoving you across the last few feet of the floor, your hands hit solid ground allowing you to stand up.

A new room opens in front of you. A body lies in an old casket in the corner of the room, swaddled in a ragged cloth; a few dolls, positioned on a shelf on the wall, motorized devices making their heads turn, following your every move.

You scramble to the opposite side, lying low, ducking behind a tall hooded figure, attempting to keep your breathing silent as your chest heaves violently. You hear his footsteps enter the space, stomping across the floor, heading in the direction of the exit. He looks back in your direction, making time stand still.

The killer lowers his knife, disappearing around the corner.

BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.

Shit... My phone. You shove your hand in your pocket, struggling with the device; watching in horror as it topples to the ground. Calling: Eddie Munson BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ. It trembles wildly against the hardwood floor; glowing like a beacon. Fuck. You snatch it from the ground, accepting the call.

"Eddie?" You whisper.

"Chrissy! Where are you?" He panics. "Are you okay?"

You watch in terror as he walks back into the doorframe; the strobe lights flashing wildly behind him. You squeeze your eyes shut.

"Chrissy?"

CLICK.

The wood creaks beneath the weight of his boots as he steps closer and closer. You clasp your hands over your lips, holding back your sobs; tears, rolling over the back of your hands.

Please go away. Please just go away...

The footsteps come to a halt.

You force yourself to open your sights, instantly seeing two soulless, black eyes staring down at you. A gloved hand reaches out, wrapping tightly around your throat; lifting you effortlessly.

"Caught ya." Your mouth falls open with a blood-curdling scream and you feel a searing pain; his knife, stabbing into your stomach.

You inhale sharply, looking down as he yanks the blade out; taking your breath with it.

Bright red blood spews out onto the floor before gradually flaring onto the fabric of your jacket. You watch in a daze as the hot crimson spreads like ink. Your vision blurs as you reach down; fingers, drifting across your stomach; coating your hand easily.

Tears slip down your cheeks as everything starts to get a little duller; a little darker than before. Your knees buckle beneath you; body, crashing to the floor. You attempt to scream but nothing comes out; gurgling as blood pools in your mouth.

I'm going to die.

The masked man kneels over you, staring down at you; head tilting slightly as he watches you choke on your blood. You inhale, clamping your eyes shut as he lifts the knife, driving it into your chest again and again.

Your eyes fall shut, opening once more when you feel a harsh grip on your ankles. The monster drags you across the uneven floor. Your frail hands claw at the splintered wood with the little strength you have left. Slivers of the old lumber pierce into the skin beneath your nails, as your body scrapes across the ground, doing nothing to stop the inevitable.

He grabs a doll, throwing it down on the floor next to you; shattering the porcelain head. The killer lifts you into his arms, holding you before laying you down again. You feel a plush pillow under your head; raised wooden sides, boxing you in. The coffin.

Your lips refuse to move as you try to scream one last time. The heavy top slams shut leaving you in darkness; no pain, complete numbness as you take your final breath. 

Taglist

Tags: @theoraekenslover @beautifuldisaster88 @leelei1980 @gri959 @redhead1180 @hippiegoth97 @tlclick73 @cutielando @babyyraven @Akashababy @dckweed @struckstarkey @joannamuns9n @strangerthing93 @floredaqueen

[myeuphoricmindset]

Ghostface - Eddie Munson

Summary | You've just bumped into a masked stranger at a Hawkins Halloween party. You don't know if it's the mystery man or the alcohol, but you're breaking all the rules tonight. Because tonight you're not you —you're someone completely different. On Halloween, you can be whoever you want. Whoever 𝒉𝒆 wants. And Eddie Munson wants 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

Pairing | Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags | 18+ (MINORS DNI), smut (that’s basically it), one-night stand, rough, dirty talk, spanking, dom!Eddie, hair pulling, hands around neck & oral both receiving.

I posted this on wattpad last Halloween, so hopefully it still holds up. It’s more smutty and vulgar than my usual work, so there is your heads up.

🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷

The tequila is starting to hit you. The music is rattling your soul. Your blood is running hot. And your body is levitating. It feels so good to free this fucking free.

It's fun to play pretend, even for just one night. You're not you tonight, you're someone else. The red cape, tight corset and short skirt have you feeling more confident than ever.

The music is loud, just like you like it. The house is filled with almost everyone in Hawkins. But most of their faces are masked and there is a little thrill because of that. It's the fact that the familiar faces are unfamiliar for a night. You can be anyone. Be with anyone. And when the clock strikes midnight the mask falls, taking its secrets with it.

You look around for more alcohol, but you can't see shit with how many people are in here. Your eyes do notice someone watching you. He has a Ghostface mask on and he's leaning against the wall. Well, you think he's looking at you. The mask doesn't give him away, but for some reason, you have a feeling he is.

You ignore the stranger and find your way through the crowd. You need more alcohol, especially if you are going to follow through with your plan to have a one-night stand.

A countertop nearby has a bottle of vodka. This will do. You grab a cup and pour yourself a drink. It burns going down, but you swallow.

The music is already calling you back to the dance floor. You finish your drink and push your way back through the crowd. It's a song you've never heard of, but the beat is good. Good enough to lose yourself in. Once the alcohol gives you enough courage then you will go search for the masked stranger that will end your night right.

"Lil' Red Riding Hood?" A deep voice says behind you on the dance floor.

You turn to face them. They are completely masked and hidden, like a little secret. Whoever they are —they are Ghostface tonight. The one that's been watching you. He has the mask on but wears a black shirt and black jeans.

"Yes." Your answer. You tug on your hood over your head and bat your lashes. Playing your part. "I didn't know Ghostface spoke unless on the phone." You tease him.

He pulls out a large prop phone and holds it up to his ear. "Do you like scary movies?"

You smile, but try to contain your interest in this stranger. "I do."

He walks closer to you. "What's your favorite one?"

People are dancing around you, completely in their own world that they don't pay attention to you and Ghostface.

You bite your lip softly and look at his face, hoping you're staring at his eyes behind that mask. "Scream."

He slowly tilts his head. "Mmm, really?"

Damn. His voice is hot.

"Really." You confirm.

"Do you go to Hawkins?"

"Maybe." You smile.

"You're really playing into the mystery of it all, aren't you?"

You laugh. "Isn't that the point of tonight? I think you've been the real mystery tonight. I know you've been watching me."

"You're difficult to look away from."

Someone dancing beside you knocks into you, pushing you against the masked stranger. His hands grip your waist, holding you up. You look down at his hands on your waist and notice rings on his fingers. A clue to who's behind the mask, but you can't place it.

You look up at him. "Dance with me, Ghostface."

You don't wait for an answer. You grab the phone in his hand and toss it on the table nearby. You twist in his arms, sliding her hands on top of his to keep his hands on your waist. You start swaying with the music, moving against him.

His fingers dig into your hips. You haven't been touched in so long and even just his fingertips against you send you pushing back against him harder.

You lift your hands above your head and around his neck. Tonight you feel like breaking the rules. You want to wake up tomorrow with secrets. You came here tonight to taste freedom, to indulge in your wild side. Whoever he is, he's yours tonight. Who fucking cares what's right or wrong. One-night stands are meant to be so wrong that it's right.

His hand moves across your abdomen and over your rib cage. You drop your head back against his chest. His hand moves up your arm and to your hand.

"You're so hot." He groans in your ear. His voice is laced with the desire that he can't hide.

You are two strangers. At least you both are with masks on. You don't know if it's because of that or the alcohol, but you're turned on. His voice and his touch are fueled by the desire for you. Wanting you. Needing you.

He twists you around to face him. One hand on your lower back and the other on your face. You stare at his masked face. Your breath caught in your throat.

His thumb brushes your bottom lip. You can tell he's admiring you. Drinking you in. It's so hot. Your body is on fire for him. The tension is high. It's all so fucking thrilling. The mystery and the possibilities.

"Make me your next victim." You whisper to him.

He laughs. God, that laugh. You almost drop to your knees right there.

"As you wish." He says.

He grabs your wrist and pulls you through the crowd.

🕷

You don't have time to look around the bedroom. He throws you onto the bed. It's not like you'd know whose room this is anyway, you don't even know whose house this is. You were just told where the party was and showed up. And god, you're so damn glad you showed up.

The mystery man, Ghostface, closes the bedroom door and turns to face you. You hear the door lock. You should be scared, but you're not. He moves near the end of the bed, standing over you.

"Look at you." He chuckles and tilt's his head. "So desperate for me."

He's not wrong. You are. Whoever he is, you are down bad. It's his voice, his hands, his laugh, and how he carries himself. Like a fucking God. And you're not worthy.

"So desperate." You whisper.

"Are you a good girl?" He asks.

"I can be."

"Mmm." The sound that escapes his lips is so low that it almost sounds like a growl.

It sends heat in between your legs.

"Get up." He's demanding, but you like it. He knows what he wants. And tonight it's you.

You stand up and he walks up to you. His hand lifts to your face, tracing a finger down your cheek. "I don't always play nice. I need you to know that before we move forward."

"Okay." The only word you can form.

His fingers trail down your skin and wrap about your neck. It's gentle but firm. "Can you handle that? I need to hear you say that you want this."

Your breathing increases and you swallow. He must have felt that because he tightens his grip around your neck. "Use your words, sweetheart."

"Yes, I want this." You say.

He chuckles. "As much as I want to fuck you with this mask on, I want to taste you first and I can't do that."

"Then take it off."

He tilts his head and pulls you closer to him by your throat. "Show me yours and I'll show you mine."

You smile and try to remain calm. He hasn't even done anything yet and you're more turned on than you ever have been. Fuck the masks. Whatever he is offering is worth your secret identity.

The red hood falls against your shoulders, revealing your beautiful hair. The mask on your face is secured by a ribbon tied behind your head. You look up at the masked stranger as you drop your hands.

He realizes what you silently asked. The hand around your throat releases as it moves to the back of your head. He pulls on the ribbon, releasing your mask and revealing your face. It falls to the ground.

He grabs your chin, lifting your eyes to him. "You're fucking beautiful." There is a flicker in his eyes that give you the impression that he knows you, but he doesn't say.

Your face burns, but you try to play it off. "Your turn."

"Mm, so eager."

He laughs lightly and then pulls off his mask. It's Eddie fucking Munson. He shakes his head, curls swaying with the movement. The mask drops to the floor. You have never spoken to Eddie, but you know exactly who he is. There is no denying that you're more down for this than before. He's so damn hot.

You both don't acknowledge that we know each other. It doesn't matter. Even with the masks off, you both are enjoying the night without any consequences. And that fact alone has you on your worst behavior.

"Fuck me, Eddie Munson." You say.

He doesn't react to his name on your lips. "Damn." He smirks and closes the distance between you both. He slides off your red cloak, dropping it to the floor. "Say it again."

"Fuck Me, Eddie Munson."

He laughs. "You're sexy when you beg."

Eddie presses his body against yours and tilts your head. He's kissing your neck and it feels so good. His lips are warm and soft against your skin. His hands are roaming your body until he finds the zipper on the corset costume. And thank god it's a zipper.

He bites your neck and you let out a whimper. He laughs softly against your skin. His tongue slides up your neck and to your jawline, coming to a stop just as he unzips your corset. The cold air in the room hits your bare chest as he pulls the corset off.

"Jesus Christ. Fucking perfect." He says as he looks at your breasts.

Your skin breaks out in goosebumps as his hand trails from your back, up your rib cage, and to your breasts. His thumb brushes over your nipple. His lips find yours and you are set on fire by his kiss. His hand cups your breasts before he pushes you onto the bed.

A single kiss, burning on your lips and leaving you wanting more. You watch him as he looks down at you, hunger in his eyes.

"I'm going to eat you alive." He says, crawling on top of you. "I'll take my time, savoring every piece of you."

You are speechless and he can tell. He laughs lightly and then brings his mouth back to yours, tasting your desire. His tongue brushed your lip, asking for entrance and you welcome it. Your tongues dance together, and it's the sweetest fucking dance.

He bites your lip, pulling away slowly. "You're quiet. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

"Okay." You breathe.

He stares down at you, his hair falling over his shoulders. "Okay, what?"

"Okay, daddy." You smile.

He tilts his head. "Mm, I like that."

Before you can say another word his mouth is around your breast. His tongue swirls around your nipple and you moan.

"That's it. Tell me that you like it." He says before returning his mouth to your body.

He bites your nipple and you arch your back. He slips one of his hands around your lower back, holding you up slightly as he kisses down your stomach. His curls trail down your bare skin as he moves down.

He removes his hands from your body and lifts himself onto his knees. "Look at this slutty little skirt you have on." He bites his lip. "Fuck."

"Do you want to take it off of me?" You ask.

Eddie gets off the bed and stands up. He looks at you, running his hand through his hair. The curls fall back on his face. His eyes are drunk on the sight of you. He smiles a devilish smile. "No, baby. I want to fuck you in it."

He grabs your hips and yanks you to the end of the bed. You let out a sound of surprise and he laughs. "Are you already screaming? I haven't even started."

You blush at his words. You've never been more turned on than you are right now. Eddie grabs something from his pocket and then pulls his hair back into a loose bun. A few curls fall loose before he drops to his knees before you. The whole room shifts at the sight of him between your legs.

He touches your tights, his fingertips soft on your skin. He opens your legs in a quick sudden movement. He can't help himself, he looks at what's beneath your skirt.

"Oh, sweetheart. I can see how wet you are for me. Your white panties give you away." His eyes flick up to yours. "I love how ready you are for me." His thumbs make small circles on the inside of your thighs as he tightens his grip.

"Don't tease me." You say. Desperate for his next move.

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. "Where are your manners?"

"Please. Please don't tease me."

He sighs. "Good girl."

He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh. You are aching for him, the heat between your legs is going to burn the whole damn room down. He moves up your thigh, leaving more kisses and then he bites you. It's not too hard, and the pain is more pleasurable than anything else. You can't stop the moan that escapes your lips.

His hands slide up and under your skirt, wrapping around your hips. His rings are cold against your skin. He flips your skirt up, revealing your panties. He looks up at you and you think you might climax at the sight of him.

"I know you begged me not to tease you, but daddy makes the rules here." He winks.

You almost jump at the sudden feeling of his thumb brushing down over your panties, right where you need him. Even with the thin fabric separating his touch from your skin it still has you melting in pleasure. "Oh god." You moan.

"Mm, so sensitive," Eddie says.

He rubs his thumb up and down, and you slide your hips down trying to add more friction. Eddie pulls his hand back.

"Naughty girl." He smirks.

"Eddie, please."

His finger slides up your hip and he slips one finger under the fabric of your panties. "How bad do you want it?"

"So bad." Your answer.

And before you can take your next breath Eddie rips your panties off. He's smiling, proud of how smooth that was. You're trying to catch your breath, but you can't because you're now completely naked beside the skirt around your waist. "I want to touch you before I taste you."

Eddie's finger brushes over your clit, so gently that you want to fucking scream. He's teasing you and you can't take it. But before you can say anything he surprises you by sliding his finger inside you. You throw your head back and let out a moan.

"Good girl. I want to hear you."

And you let him. He moves his finger in and out of you, slowly going faster. Just as you're getting used to the rhythm, he adds another finger. God, it feels good.

"Eddie." You breathe

"You like that?" He asks with a smile on his face, watching every move you make. He's turned on by how much you like it. His thumb works with him, rubbing your clit as he moves his fingers deeper inside of you.

It feels so fucking good and you need more. He might pull away like he did last time, but it's worth the risk. You start moving your hips with his fingers.

"Ride my fingers. Show me how bad you need it." He says.

And fuck. You need it so badly. Your whole body is vibrating with pleasure. And then he stops. You open your eyes and look down. He licks his fingers and smiles at you. "You taste so good." And then he replaces his fingers with his mouth.

He drags his tongue up your center and you think you might die right there. "Fuck. Oh my god!"

His tongue is following the road map of your desire and you are in a state of euphoria. You are making sounds that you have never made before and you feel out of control of your own body.

He sucks and moves his tongue in ways you didn't know were possible. He brings back his fingers, adding to the already intense pleasure rushing through your body in waves.

"Eddie!" The only word you can shout. The words that you're getting close to your climax fall short on your lips. But he knows you are because he slows and stops.

"Wait, no!" You sit up on your elbows, a little dizzy and desperate for more.

"Relax baby. I don't want you to just ride my fingers." He laughs standing up and pulling off his shirt.

His tattooed chest and bare waist have you falling back on the bed. His black jeans hug his hips in all the right places, illuminating the deep v-cut and drawing your attention to the line of hair below his navel.

"The way you're looking at me has me so fucking hard." He groans.

"Good. The way I want you." You say smiling.

You sit up and grab the waistband of his jeans, looking up at him through your lashes. You slowly unbutton his jeans. You can feel how hard he is through the fabric. Hard for you. His jeans slip off easily and then you grab his boxers.

"Atta girl." He's looking down at you with dark lustful eyes.

You pull his boxers down and almost gasp. He's so big and so ready for you. You want him buried in you, but first, you need to taste him. Wrapping your hand around his cock feels powerful and the sound that comes out of his mouth, at just your touch, sends a wave of confidence you've never had. You bring your mouth to him and look up. You want to see what pleasure looks like on him.

"Fuck! That feels good." He drops his head back and wraps his hand in your hair.

You swirl your tongue around him and he moans. It's the sexiest thing you've ever heard. His hand grips your hair tighter as you move him in and out of your mouth.

"Let me fuck your mouth, baby." He says looking down at you. His curls fall around his face.

You relax your jaw and allow it. He moves his hips and pulls your hair, slightly moving your head back to open your throat. He works with your mouth, thrusting deeper and sending him closer to the edge. He's moaning and cursing, and you've never heard anything hotter than that.

"Your mouth feels so good around my cock." He groans. "But I need more." He pulls out of your mouth and grabs your chin, looking down at you. "Get on your hands and knees."

"Yes, daddy." You crawl onto the bed and look back at him.

He smiles as he admires you from behind, slipping on a condom. He comes up behind you slowly. His hand touches your lower back and moves to your ass, flipping your skirt up."You are so damn perfect." He slaps your ass and you jump lightly. He rubs the spot he slapped and he laughs. "You like that, don't you?" And before you can answer he slaps you again. You bite your lip to conceal a moan.

He presses down on your back, making you arch your ass higher. You feel his cock pressed against your ass and your breathing increases. "Don't worry, baby. I'll take your ass another night." He glides his cock down, past your ass, and right to the spot where you're aching for him.

He teases you. Moving his head down, pressing it against the bundle of nerves. You arch further and move back against his cock. He lets you and you grind against him.

"Let me hear you." He says while using the hand on your hip to move you harder against him.

You let out a moan that you were holding back. And he likes that so he repays you for your good behavior by giving you exactly what you want.

Eddie brings his cock to your pussy and thrusts, deep and hard into you. You both cry out. You grip the bed and he grabs your hips, the cold rings pressing hard against your hot skin.

"Holy shit, you're so wet and tight." He moans.

He's moving in and out, deeper and faster. You're lost in the feeling. You press your face against the mattress, moaning. Eddie grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls. It's hard, but not painful. You're overwhelmed with pleasure, he feels so good. He knows exactly what he's doing.

"Look how well you're taking me."

You start to tremble as he reaches around and rubs your clit. He pushes deeper inside you from behind. The sounds he is making are sending you closer to the edge.

"Eddie, oh my god!" You say breathlessly.

You push back against him. You both move so well together, making it harder and deeper than before.

"Come with me, baby," he asks out of breath.

And you do. You both reach climax, shaking and trembling. It's intense and so fucking good. You drop to the mattress and he falls beside you. You're both trying to catch your breath, still riding the high.

Eddie looks over at you, laughing as he tries to catch his breath. "Damn, sweetheart."

You laugh too and brush back the hair from your face. "Well, this was unexpected."

It wasn't unexpected that you were going to have a one-night stand tonight. That was your plan coming to this party, but it was unexpected that it was with Eddie Munson. And it was unexpected that you'd enjoy it this much.

"That was too good to only happen once." He smirks.

Fuck. He's right. Now that you've had a taste of him, you need more. Eddie might have become your newest addiction.

[batsbratsandbarbedwire]

Steve sat up fast and the voice laughed. He stared hard out the window, but it was all black. He hadn't turned the pool light on.

He stayed still. Watched the window.

“Get a little nervous, pretty?” The voice asked. Still laughing.

“Where are you?” Steve asked. He couldn’t see anything out the window. He thought of Jonathon. Of years ago, ages ago, maybe. Not being able to see out definitely doesn’t mean nobody’s able to see in.

“Don’t even worry about it, pretty. We’re just having a little conversation.” The voice was too playful. Metal. Amused.

“While you’re watching me? And I don’t know where you are. Hardly seems fair.”

A hint of anger. Just a little flair of it kicked up in the voice. “Who said anything about fair?” But then instantly the amusement was back, the voice softer, but still grating. “You’d think someone so pretty would have better manners.”

[corroded-queen]

You cannot tell me Ghostface!Eddie wouldn’t be absolutely blasting I Can’t Decide while toying with a bloodied, tied up Jason; his eyes nearly bugging out of his head, aching at all the slices Eddie’s already inflicted.

Eddie would be absolutely giddy, singing into the voice changer, lunging and pulling back right at the last second before the knife could plunge into Jason’s stomach. Jason struggling against the ropes, straining as much as he can while they dig into his skin. He's gagged, spit and blood mixing down his chin.

"What's the matter, Jason? Cat got your tongue?" And he'd laugh, savoring every second that asshole finally got what was coming to him. Finally got it because he was delivering it.

He'd relished killing the others, Andy and Patrick especially, but killing Jason is something different. Something better. Shit, it felt like fucking Christmas getting to watch the knife he took from Jason's own house slice through his skin. The pure hit of adrenaline he got seeing that asshole writhe when he drove it to the handle into his shoulder - just getting to taste a bit of the pain he'd put Eddie, Hellfire, shit - anyone different - through was insane. Better than anything Rick could ever give him to sell.

In the end, Eddie would make Jason think he left - disappearing into the darkness for a moment, just out of his periphery. Long enough for Jason to believe Eddie might've left - long enough to have just a sliver of hope for freedom. Jason would slide forward, just a bit, his eyes trained on the home phone dangling from its cord just inside. If he could just get close enough -

And then cracked leather gloves land heavily on his shoulders, and he feels a sob stick in his throat. His eyes crinkle shut and his body shakes gently. Everything aches, his shoulder burns, and he can feel the way his ripped clothes cling to him through the blood and sweat dripping down his chest. Eddie pats hard against the shoulder he'd just stabbed.

♩♩ ~I can't decide whether you should live or die, oh you'll probably go to heaven~ ♩♩

Jason looks up when Eddie's hands leave his shoulders, staring hard at the cheap plastic mask as the knife, blood still coating the edge, bites deep into the skin of his neck. His eyes bulge when blood splatters onto the patio door and Eddie can't wretch his gaze away, nearly slicing clean through Jason's neck.

Relief courses through him, and he's shaking with nothing but excitement, punching up in the air with the knife tight in his grasp when Jason gurgles a final breath. He wipes the blood on the costume and returns the knife to the side of his thigh. The walk back to his van would be a long one, but fuck, he could run a marathon and not break a sweat right now.

He retreats to the shadows, humming that damn song, and makes it back to you before midnight, passed out in his bed. He wanted to fuck you into oblivion, bury himself deep in your pussy to tie the night up with a bow; but watching you breathe softly, curled up in his shirt, hugging his pillow - fuck, he couldn't just wake you up when you looked so damn cute, could he?

You're only aware he's home when the washer stirs you, and you feel him slide in beside you, pressing feathery kisses up from your hip, to your arm and collarbone. He stops when you scoot closer to him, throwing the blanket over his half-naked form; he smells like shampoo and you figure he must've taken a shower, his wet hair tickling your skin.

"Deal go well?" You ask, voice soft and groggy from sleep, eyes blinking in the low-light thrown in from his window when you face him.

"Really well, sweetheart," he says, pressing a kiss to your head when you close your eyes again. "Really fuckin well."

He wraps his arms around you, and you sigh against him, breathing in his body wash, melting into his hold.

You don't tell him he forgot his lunchbox on the couch.

You don't tell him you'd found his bloodstained gloves in a drawer, days ago, when you were looking for condoms.

You squish your cheek against him and relax, because Eddie is still your Eddie - your sweet, ingenious Eddie. And now, well, now those assholes wouldn't hurt anyone ever again.

They find Jason’s body the next morning, nearly decapitated, eyes still shot open in surprise. Jason's tape player that Eddie'd set up beside the chair still singing out:

♩♩ ~I can't decide whether you should live or die~ ♩♩

[maltedmilkks]

surprise, stevie

[eiightysixbaby]

horror movies & chill

word count: 2.6k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie tries to scare you and gets more than he bargained for.

cw: SMUT - 18+ MINORS DNI. this is literally porn with a smidge of plot, sorry not sorry. mask kink, choking, degradation kink on the low (eddie calls reader slut/whore), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie

The TV screen lights up the dark living room, flashes of different colors streaking across the space. You sit on the couch, blanket draped over your lap as your knee bounces absentmindedly. Your boyfriend had wandered off to get something, and now you sit alone in suspense as the girl on screen figures out there’s a killer in her house. The movie goes eerily quiet, the lone heroine peering around her silent home. You know what’s coming next. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that when it gets too quiet, a jump scare is right around the corner.

And yet.

You scream in unison with the girl on television, two hands gripping your shoulders from behind just as the fictional killer grabs his target. You spring up off of the couch, the blanket falling to the floor in a heap. You spin around, frantic, your body gone cold for a moment. Wicked laughter erupts in front of you as you get your bearings, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

“God dammit, Eddie!” you shout, hand over your heart as you attempt to steady your breathing. “You absolute asshole!”

Eddie’s doubled over behind the couch, a cheap Halloween store Ghostface mask covering his head. He’s still laughing, trying to get words out and failing.

“Baby…” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even though he’s trying to be serious. What a dick. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d get you that good,” he says, walking towards you.

“You’re such a jerk sometimes,” you reply, but nevertheless you let him grab your arms, rubbing soothing patterns on the skin.

“I know. I am, baby, you’re right. That was mean,” he agrees, nodding his head beneath the black and white mask. You know he'd be giving you puppy-dog eyes if you could see him.

You can’t help but laugh, the initial panic leaving your body. You must’ve looked petrified, and you’re a little mad he scared you so badly.

“You’ll have to make it up to me,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

Eddie’s head cocks to one side, sympathetic, playing it up for you. “Of course, sweetheart. And how do I do that?” he asks, stepping slightly closer to you.

He wants a genuine answer, but you find your breath hitching in your throat. Maybe it’s the way his fingers rub circles into your lower back. Maybe it’s the heat radiating from his body onto yours. Maybe it’s the sound of his labored breathing beneath that sweaty mask that's getting to you. You press your thighs together, suddenly feeling too hot for such a cold October day.

And Eddie can see, through the mesh eye cutouts, the way you bite your lip just slightly. He can see the way your lips part but no words come out, the way you tilt your hips closer to his. And he definitely feels the way your fingers hook into the belt-loops on his jeans, drawing him in.

“Oh my god. Are you into this right now?” he asks, voice dripping with his smug attitude. He’s grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat, if only you could see it.

You don’t answer right away, shifting on your feet. You look down, not sure if you have the gumption to tell your boyfriend the god damn Ghostface mask is turning you on right now. You were scared shitless mere minutes ago. But the way your heart pounds now is completely different to the way it had before.

“Shut up….” you mumble, your face growing incredibly warm.

“You are so fucking into this right now,” he says, laughing as he gets the last word out.

“Okay, if you’re gonna make fun-” you start, drawing your body away. Eddie doesn’t let you finish.

“Waitwaitwait,” he interrupts, pulling you back to him. “I just didn’t expect it, is all,” he reassures, his voice sounding muffled beneath the rubbery material.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, eagerly anticipating his next move. You can't quite bring yourself to act first.

He brings your body flush against his, two fingers gliding up one of your arms, sending chills down your spine. He leans his face close to your ear, his breathing audible. “I won’t judge if you like the mask, baby,” he purrs, his voice deeper now.

His other hand wraps around your waist, palm pressing into your lower back, pushing your crotch against his. You gasp, goosebumps perking up along your arms. Screams erupt from the movie, the final girl running free from her potential killer. It’s comedic, really, how you’re stood here ready to jump the killer’s bones.

Eddie’s hips roll, just slightly, but enough for you to feel the tent in his pants. You let out a shaky breath, your body seeking him out, wanting him to give you more of that friction.

“What is it, babe?” he taunts. “You want me?”

“Eddie…” is all you get out, a breathy little thing, your hands pressed to his chest.

And then he’s pressing you against the wall, hiking one of your legs around his waist, his crotch pressing against your needy core. One big hand comes to wrap around your throat, cold rings soothing the flames that lap at your skin. He squeezes, making you delightfully hazy, pinning you hard against the wall with his body.

“This what you want, baby? Want me to fucking ruin you?” he asks, voice akin to a growl, squeezing your throat yet again.

“P-please,” you mewl, desperate for more. You know you’re soaking through your panties, practically aching for him.

Something about not being able to see him drives you crazy. Relying on just his voice, trying to gauge his tone. You’re writhing beneath him, grinding yourself against him. He’s so hard it has to be painful, you can feel it even through the layer of denim covering his bottom half.

“Oh, she’s so desperate, huh? Pussy needs me, baby? God damn…” he rasps, and you throb for him.

His fingers dig into the meat of your thigh where he holds it, giving it a sharp squeeze. His other hand removes itself from your neck, tugging down the zipper on his jeans. You undo the button for him, just as eager to get his pants down as he is. His cock stands at attention beneath the fabric of his boxers, begging to be touched. He ignores it for the meantime, though, releasing his hold on your leg and letting you drop it. He makes quick work of sliding your leggings and panties down, fingers collecting the honey that drips from you.

Groaning, he brings his fingers to your mouth, prompting you to suck them. You oblige, mouth opening and enveloping his digits. Your tongue swipes over them, tasting yourself and coating them with saliva. And then they’re pulled from your lips, teasing your clit before slipping into your cunt. Your leg wraps around his waist once more, allowing for a better angle. He scissors those two fingers inside of you, his breathing heavy, sounding almost amplified from beneath the mask. Your hips buck forward, forcing his fingers deeper. One hand grips your side, pinning you back against the wall.

“Don’t be fuckin’ greedy, slut,” Eddie barks, words sending sparks right through you.

His fingers curl in a ‘come here’ motion, your body feeling boneless as you try to keep yourself upright. He laughs, a devious thing, clearly satisfied with how pliant you are for him. You can tell how wet you are from the slick sounds coming from every glide of his fingers, your body so desperately craving more of him. He adds a third finger, prying you open even farther with complete ease, grunting as he feels the way you tense around him.

“Eddie,” you gasp, “f-feels so good.”

“I know it does, baby, I know,” he coos, smirking to himself at the way your body writhes beyond your control. “Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, hm?”

“Yeah, oh god,” you cry, head tipping back as you moan to the ceiling, his fingers pressing so deep inside of you.

He moans despite himself, your cunt completely drenching his fingers. His cock twitches in his boxers, leaks and pleads for you. You’re a little blurry through the eyes of Ghostface, but he can still make out the way your face contorts in pleasure. He loves making you feel like this, loves having you in the palm of his hand.

“My filthy girl, so fuckin’ wet for me all because I put this mask on, is that it? Really gets you going, huh baby?”

He wanted you to like the mask, if he’s honest, and the fact that it’s working on you is driving him up a fucking wall. He needs to be inside of you, needs to fuck you hard and pump you full of his cum before he loses it.

Three fingers slide out of you, squelching slightly as you suddenly clench around nothing. He yanks his boxers down, merely a hindrance to him, his thick cock springing free. You whimper at the sight of it, chewing on your lip as you watch him wrap his hand around the shaft. He pumps himself a few times, lets his pre-cum drip over his fingers, and it makes you ache. You feel like your body is on fire, you need him so bad, white-hot flames licking up your thighs.

A few more pumps and then he’s releasing himself, hoisting you up so both of your legs tangle around him. He grips the meat of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh the best he can. He lines his cock up just right, your cunt glistening with your arousal. And you want to kiss him so bad, you want to feel your tongue against his and you want him to bite you, to suck bruises into your neck. The fact that you can’t almost makes you crazier, spurring you on more. You can only imagine what his face looks like as he sheathes himself inside of you, can only imagine those perfect parted lips as he sighs blissfully.

His cock pushes through your slick folds until you can feel his balls pressed against you, his thick length fully seated inside of you. It’s such an enticing stretch to fit him, your whole body vibrating with desire. He rocks himself in and out, in and out, letting you get used to his size. Your cunt has already soaked him in your cream, you can see it pooling where his body meets yours.

“Fuuuuuuck baby,” Eddie groans, panting beneath the warmth of the mask. “Such a needy whore for me, god damn. So fucking wet.”

You whine, canting your hips upwards ever so slightly, the tip of Eddie’s cock pressing so deep inside.

“She’s fuckin’ soaking me, angel. This pussy loves me, doesn’t she?” he says, thrusting into you harder now. He sets a quicker pace, holding your weight against the wall with complete ease.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you moan, waves of euphoria rippling through every inch of your body. He’s so deep and so big and so good.

Your nails dig into the skin of his back, clawing at him through his t-shirt as he fucks you like it’s his last opportunity. You can hear grunts and strained whines falling from his lips, breath coming out in spurts from exertion.

“Babe, fuck, can I take this thing off? Need my mouth on you baby,” he pants, hips snapping against yours and making you cry out.

“Yes, yes - fuck Eddie!” you moan, nearly screaming his name.

The mask is whipped off in one swift motion, Eddie’s unruly curls sticking out. His eyes are wild, pupils blown with sheer need, those perfect lips of his so pink and plump. His mouth is on you in an instant, kissing your lips, your jaw, his teeth biting at your neck. He sucks on the delicate skin, unforgiving as you hiss at the sensation. His warm tongue laves over the irritated area, soothing you and sending a shiver down your spine. You roll your hips, needing more from him, needing him in impossible ways.

“Fucking Christ, you’re so desperate for me,” he gets out through heavy breaths, his cock impaling you over and over. His cocky demeanor doesn’t waver, hands squeezing your ass, smirking when you whine at him.

Filthy noises fill the living room, wet smacks as your dripping pussy sucks Eddie back in for more more more. He glances down to where your bodies join, his dick shiny with your juices. Eyelashes flutter as he looks back up at you, pulling your face to his to kiss you harder. His greedy tongue roams your mouth, his lips demanding in the way they move with yours.

Eddie can tell you’re getting close by the way your eyes roll back into your skull, the way your pussy keeps squeezing him so tight. Your brows knit together as you focus on how good he feels, eyes pinching shut.

“Nuh-uh. Look at me, sweet girl,” Eddie instructs, fucking you faster. “Look at me when I’m making you feel so good.”

Your eyes open, big and glassy as they plead with him. You’re so ready to snap, your body overwhelmed with pleasure as Eddie abuses your cunt. Your fingers tangle in his hair - something you’d missed while he’d had the mask on - and tug, drawing a throaty groan from him. His balls are slapping against the skin of your ass with each rough thrust, fingers digging so hard into flesh you’re sure you’ll be sore tomorrow.

Those big brown eyes of his are incredibly dark, his lips parted as he watches you slowly unravel right before his eyes. You feel yourself about to tip over the edge, about to let go, and he can see it on your face.

“Gonna cum for me, dirty girl? Little slut’s gonna cum all over my fucking cock?” he taunts you, every single word sending bolts of electricity right to your core.

“Gonna cum so fucking hard, Eddie, oh my god,” you say breathlessly, eyes fluttering to a close as you reach your peak.

You’re delirious as you cum, your walls squeezing Eddie so fucking tight. Strings of curse words are falling from his lips as he chases his own release, drawing it closer and closer as you completely soak him. Movements get sloppy, not aided by the slippery mess you’ve created, and Eddie’s breaths grow staggered.

His cock pounds into you one, two, three more times before his hips stutter, hot ropes of cum filling you. You can just barely feel the way he twitches inside of you, every last drop of his release pouring out. Both of you settle finally, catching your breath as you come down from your highs. Eddie sets you down, your feet hitting the ground once more. Your legs feel like rubber, like you might crumple to the floor if it weren’t for the fact that he’s holding your waist and pulling you in to him.

You look down at the floor, the crumpled mask staring up at you, mouth gaping in a perpetual scream. You’re dizzy with realization of what's just happened.

“You’re fucking unreal,” he says finally, tilting your chin up so your eyes will meet his. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know…” you admit, cheeks growing hot. “Something about that damn mask,” you smirk at him, getting a waggle of his eyebrows in response.

“I can go to the store right now and get more… who do you want next? Michael Myers? Jason?” Eddie jokes, smiling when you scoff at him.

“Just make sure to keep the Ghostface one around, okay?” your shy request has him grinning, his tongue running over his teeth.

“Oh, you’ll be seeing more of him for sure.”

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

can’t stop thinking about eddie fucking me from behind in a ghostface mask, plastic knife to my throat, other hand in my hair to hold up my head, all while filming it and saying “i’ll bet this will be your favorite movie now, huh?” on this sacred and blessed halloween

[littlexdeaths]

i called her on the phone and she touched herself - e.m.

ghostface eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: voyerism, mutual masturbation, phone sex, eddie’s a perv but we’re into it, alluding to a knife kink, lots of scream references

i ended up taking a look at this fic today and making some little tweaks and i love it so much more now. this is another repost from my old account but i promise new content will be coming soon. enjoy xx.

word count: 1.5k

The phone rings, loud and shrill in your ear.

It sound causing you to flinch in surprise, heart thudding in your chest as you reach for the receiver. The cheesy horror movie playing on your small tv set now forgotten as you pick up the line.

“Hello?” Your voice sounds a little breathless, a deep chuckle resounding in your ear.

“Hello sweetheart.”

The voice on the other end was husky, smooth yet confident. “Who is this?” You feign a bored tone, your thighs squeezing together unintentionally.

You’d never been so attracted to someone’s voice before— and he’d only spoken two words to you. But something about it felt oddly… familiar.

“Were you expecting a call from someone?” The male asks, shifting slightly on your bed to glance at your bedside clock. 8:43 PM.

Steve would still be working at the video store, or he was supposed to be. Unless he decided to prank call you during a lull in customers. Which could very well be a possibility.

“Maybe… why do you wanna know?” Your tone is overly flirty as you decide to play along. The call now much more exciting than the movie playing out on your tv screen.

You’d never take a suggestion from Keith ever again.

“Hm, a pretty girl like you must be waiting on a call from a boyfriend?” You can’t help but laugh at that notion, serious relationships weren’t your thing. As attractive and persistent as Steve was, a relationship is the last thing you wanted to tangle yourself in right now.

But he clearly was still trying too hard.

You breathe out a heavy sigh, “Nope, no boyfriend.”

Despite being a usually observant person, you still weren’t aware of the eyes trained on your half naked figure. The dark cloaked figure watching from the tree that faced your bedroom window, “Mm, lucky me then.”

You glance back at the screen as the music begins to swell, hinting that one of the teenagers would be killed off at any moment. A loud scream fills the room, as the killer takes the camp counselor by surprise.

“What’s that sound?” He asks, unable to see the television from his vantage point. “Oh, just a movie.”

The male hums deeply, the sound causing you to squirm against your bedsheets. Heat pools in your lower belly as you mindlessly let your fingertips dance along the edge of your lace panties.

“What kind of movie?” He probes, his dark eyes now drawn to your thighs.

You begin shifting, laying back against your pillows. Resting the receiver between your ear and shoulder as you spread your legs open. Unintentionally giving him the perfect view as you dip your fingers past the flimsy material. The sight causes his cock to stir beneath his dark jeans.

“A scary one.” You reply, despite this being the least scary thing you’ve ever seen.

Eddie grins beneath the white ghostface mask, sheathing his blade once more before he reaches for the zipper on his pants. Tugging it down to free his hardened cock, pulling his mouth away from the phone to spit into the palm of his hand. Now wrapping it around his thick length as your fingers begin circling over your clit.

While the brunette had come here with the intention to scare you… this turn of events was much more interesting.

“Oh, you like scary movies?”

He grins, enjoying how your voice seems to shake over the line, but not for the reason he initially expected.

“Y-Yes…” Only pleasure laces your tone.

Eddie inhales deeply, watching as you twirl your fingers around the phone cord with your other hand. The light of the television illuminating your body with an almost ethereal like glow, “Hmm, what’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, now shoving your soaked underwear down your thighs. Kicking them off the edge of your bed as you dip a finger inside yourself. Chewing on your lower lip to hold back the moan you wanted to let escape as you eagerly slip another digit inside.

This wasn’t the first time you’d touched yourself like this with Steve on the other end of the phone, but this was by far the most exciting.

Little did you know the male on the other end was definitely not Steve Harrington.

Dropping the twisted cord you grip the receiver in your unoccupied hand, eyes fluttering shut as you begin pumping your fingers deep inside yourself. Letting your thumb brush over your swollen clit as you curl your fingers up.

“Halloween.” You breathe, a low grunt sounding on the other end of the line as the male strokes his cock in tandem with each thrust of your fingers. The slick sounds reverberating softly through the receiver.

“Is that the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around stalking babysitters?” He asks, despite already knowing the answer himself.

A soft ‘mhm’ leaving you as you revel in his throaty moans.

“I liked that one… it was scary.” His voice drops an octave, Eddie unintentionally slipping into his dungeon master voice.

Keeping the cell phone tucked into his shoulder as he adjusts himself between the tree branches. Increasing the pace of his fist as he continues to watch you pleasure yourself through your window.

The movie playing out on your tv screen is now long forgotten as his deep voice is the only thing you can focus on.

“I like that thing you’re doing with your voice, Steve. It’s sexy.” You whimper, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge of bliss. No longer able to keep up the oblivious act anymore.

Eddie chuckles darkly, sending a shiver up your spine. “Oh sweetheart, this isn’t Steve.”

As much as those words should frighten you, it only seems to increase the tightening in your lower belly. The jealous edge to them causes a high pitched whine to leave your lips, pumping your fingers even faster into your dripping heat. Increasing the pressure on your clit, as the male’s deep moans fill your ears.

“God you little slut, you gonna cum f’me?” He growls, feeling his own orgasm drawing near.

His cock twitches in his rough palm as he observes your lower half lifting up off the mattress. Thighs trembling as your orgasm washes over you, milky white spilling over onto his ringed fingers.

Heavy breathing is all that is passed back and forth between the two of you for a moment, your body falling limp against the mattress.

“Fuck, you look so pretty when you cum baby…” while it was whispered into the phone, you still heard it.

You recognized the husky voice instantly— the pretty but rugged metalhead who always gave you a discount on your weed.

Eddie Munson.

Your eyes instantly snap open, dropping the phone as you sit up. Letting your fingers slip from your drenched core as you rise to your feet. Padding over to your bedroom window and gazing out into the dark night.

Catching sight of a white ghostface mask in between the branches opposite your window. Your eyes meet as you reach back over for the phone, your juices smearing over the handle as you grab onto it. Amusement dancing over your features as you tilt your head at him.

“Do you spy on all the girls you deal to, Munson?” You pause, clearly catching the male off guard, “Or am I a special case?”

Eddie doubles back, stuttering out a reply as he attempts to disguise his voice once more but it was too late— you caught him.

“I promise this isn’t what it seems, sweetheart.”

A small giggle leaves your lips as he fumbles his way down from the tree, removing the mask so he could see properly. His bangs stick to his forehead, pale skin flushed pink under the bright moonlight.

He drops the phone and his knife in his haste, the glint of the blade catching your attention. The way the sharp metal reflects in the light makes your heart race, arousal coursing through your veins. Licking your lips as he picks up the dropped items, his brown eyes meeting yours through the glass.

“I think I know why you came here Munson…” you hum into the receiver once he returns the phone to his ear, your sultry tone making his cock stir in his jeans again.

“Why’s that sweet thing?” He bites back, his dark eyes not leaving your silhouette.

“Someone wants to play psycho killer… but it looks like you need a helpless victim.”

You lean your forearms on your windowsill, noticing the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows down a moan. His ringed fingers gripping tightly onto the handle of the blade, the male desperately hanging on your every word. “I’m more than happy to oblige.”

Eddie curses, your words going straight to his now throbbing cock. There was no way he was passing you up on this offer.

“Now… tell me Mr. Ghostface, what do you want?” You feign a frightened tone as you pose the question.

His shallow breaths mingling with the static on the line, anticipation bubbling up inside you.

“I wanna know what your insides feel like.” He groans, his words sending heat straight between your legs. Squirming as you watch him pull the mask down over his face, glancing back up at you with a predatory look.

“Then come and find out freak.”

Click.

[charliedawn]

Hey Charlie! Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if it's possible to get 'when they realize they like you' scenario (similar to the one you did with the other Slashers a while ago) with Sinclair Brothers (separate), Jack and Ghostface? No worries if not

I listened to Family Line of Conan Gray while writing this. I'd suggest you listen to it—especially for the Sinclair brothers. Hope you'll like it. 😉

Lester Sinclair :

Lester knew there was something special about you from the start. He had never seen someone like you before. You dressed so pretty and wore lots of pearls. You looked like a princess and the first time he saw you—he was speechless.

He had no choice but bring your group to Ambrose, but he did stick around. He wanted to talk to you, get closer to you...You were just so pretty.

And everything was going fine...until you started suspecting his brothers of killing your friends. When the chase began, he was supposed to leave. He knew as much. But, the moment he was about to get into his car...he heard you scream.

He stopped dead in his tracks and raised his eyes towards the sky. He then shook his head and cursed loudly before running towards the scream.

He spotted you as you were about to be stabbed by Bo and suddenly, his blood boiled. He felt like liquid courage ran through his veins as he approached Bo and knocked him out with the back of a shovel.

Your eyes widened and you were so pretty...all covered in blood and your pretty pearls darkened red. He shook his head and took your hand. You started running back towards his truck.

He then opened the door and shoved you inside.

"Go. And don't come back, a'right darlin' ?", he told you and looked back to see Bo running towards the both of you with fire in his eyes.

"LESTER ! YOU COME BACK HERE, YA HEAR ?!"

His heart quickened and you could see he was scared. You grabbed his hand and his eyes widened as he looked back at you.

"Come with me.", you pleaded—but Lester offered you an apologetic smile.

"I can't. They ma brothers."

Your eyes watered as you suddenly leaned towards him and kissed him on the lips. Lester was taken aback, but he responded with passion. It was his first kiss...probably his last.

When you pulled away, you smiled at him and couldn't hold back your tears.

"Goodbye, Lester."

He smiled back and replied.

"Goodbye, pretty'."

You then drove away and tried not to look back. Lester closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning around—falling face to face with Bo. He thought he would kill him for letting you go, but Bo seemed more dumbfounded than anything else...

"You...", Bo started and Lester gave him a sad smile.

"Bo...I think I just I fell in love."

Bo didn't say anything and Lester chuckled to himself as he looked at the pearl in his hand with a wistful smile. Maybe some other time, if you were two different people...He would have bought you pretty dresses, pearls and diamonds...But, that wasn't the story.

"She was such a pretty pearl too..."

Bo Sinclair :

Bo didn't believe in love or feelings. He had watched his parents bicker all the time, they didn't even like him. Love was just something you told kids to make them believe in a better future. But, he never had a future to begin with.

"Love is for wussies.", he once told you and you frowned as you looked at him.

"Love is beautiful.", you protested.

"Love is fuckin' stupid.", he shot back.

"Love is a gift.", you countered.

"Love isn't real.", he said with finality before looking at his scarred wrists. "I should know. I watched it die."

Your eyes softened as you saw the sadness in his eyes. Bo had been the reason for his parents' split up—or so he had always told himself. From the moment Vincent and him were born, he had never seen his parents share one single moment of tenderness. His mother hated him. His father thought that a stick was better education than anything else. He had learned at a young age that nothing was definite and that love was bullsh*t. So, why should he believe in it ?

You sighed and crouched in front of him to look him in the eyes and gently took his hands. You then pressed them against your cheeks and smiled.

"Well...I sure do hope you'll change your mind.", you said. He frowned before tilting his head quizzically at you.

"Yeah ? Why's that ?"

You looked down at the floor sheepishly and mumbled.

"Well...I guess you could say it would make me feel better to know that I won this argument."

His eyes widened and he burst out laughing.

"Oh ! I see ! You some kind of sore loser, ain't ya ?!"

You sent him a dark glare and crossed your arms over your chest.

"Shut up ! I ain't !"

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at you before giving you an amused smirk.

"Huh-huh. Real convincing."

Your cheeks burnt bright red at his teasing and you punched his shoulder.

"Oh yeah ! As if ya any better, you damn hillbilly ?!"

He pretended to get offended and gasped dramatically before pressing his hand flat over his chest.

"Whatdya jus' call me, miss/mister fancy pants ?!"

At the end, you looked each other in the eyes for a few seconds and burst out laughing together. You sat down next to him and rested your head on his shoulder.

"...Ya know what, Bo ?", you asked while your eyelids felt heavy.

"Hmm ?"

He looked down at you and saw you smiling up at him.

"I genuinely think you deserve to be happy..."

He didn't answer and you kelt smiling to yourself. You knew he didn't believe it. But, maybe by repeating it over and over, it'd get into his head eventually ?

"Goodnight, Bo. Love ya.", you said absent-mindedly and didn't feel him tense against you. For a moment, silence settled around you. And it was only when he way sure that you were asleep that he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and smiled.

"Yeah. Goodnight, darlin'. Love ya too."

Vincent Sinclair :

"..."

You felt dizzy. What was in that cup that weird mechanic gave you ? You blinked several times before looking up and found a masked figure standing above you.

"...An angel.", you muttered dreamily and smiled as you slowly raised your hands to the angel's face. But, he seemed to avoid your touch as he grabbed your hands firmly and refused to let you touch him.

You pouted and whined—surely under the influence of some kind of drug.

"Sorry, angel. Just thought you were so pretty...Couldn't help myself."

Vince tilted his head quizzically at you. Bo must have given you way too much sleeping pills. You were completely out of it, and he refused to wax you unless you were in perfect shape. He sat down and looked at his hands—fidgeting and looking around nervously. He didn't know how much time it would take until you'd finally snap out of it.

However, the way you were staring at him made him self-conscious for some reason.

Suddenly, you giggled and shook your head left and right while staring at the ceiling.

"...You're not a big talker, are you angel ?"

Vince unsurprisingly didn't answer as he watched you intently and wondered if he should strap you to the table. But then, you let out a deep sigh and kept talking.

"But, I bet you're a very good listener. And since we're both trapped in here for now...My name is Y/N. I'm Y/A. And I love (flavor) ice-cream and puppies. Oh ! And I absolutely LOVE horror movies ! We should go watch one together some day, right angel ?"

The angel didn't answer. Vince was starting to actually question your sanity. Were you damaged goods ?

He grabbed his camera and decided to take a couple of picture before finishing you off.

He took a couple of pictures, but something irked him...You were smiling. In every single shot. None of the other victims had ever smiled during his photo sessions before.

"Should I strike a pose ?", you offered with a teasing smile and laughed at his dumbfounded expression.

You were a talker. But, Vincent didn't particularly mind. He glanced one last time at you before climbing up the stairs. He then crossed Bo in the corridor and asked how much time it would take for the drug's effects to end.

But, Bo frowned in incomprehension as he replied.

"Whatya talkin' about ? The drug wore off at least half an hour ago..."

They both paused for a moment before they seemed to realize the same thing at the same moment.

"Sh*t !", Bo shouted before running down the stairs—followed closely by Vincent.

When they arrived downstairs, you weren't there anymore and only the camera remained on the table. Vince picked it up while Bo ran back upstairs to hunt you down.

Vince saw that you had taken one more picture.

One when you were winking and beamed even brighter than on any of the other photos. It made him blush under his mask and he quickly got upstairs to develop the photos.

Not that he intended to keep that last one above his bed...

Jack Torrance :

Jack has panic attacks. He may be a ghost, but his memories come to haunt him. He sometimes has trouble recognizing his surroundings, or remember in what era he is. He sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night and screams.

"NO ! COME BACK !"

He would yell for the ghosts of his past to come back, and nobody knew how to help him...until you arrived at the hotel.

At first, you were supposed to be just another unfortunate victim, but all that was quickly forgotten when Jack found out you seemed to be the answer to his problems. He had one of his episodes and you didn't hesitate before running to his aid, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him tight.

"Ssh...It's alright. It's alright."

You'd soothe him and it'd help him focus back to reality. It'd end with him deciding you might not be worth killing. He of course warned the other ghosts who didn't dare disobey him and you soon became a permanent resident in the hotel.

You'd help Jack with his night terrors, and he'd keep you alive.

It was more than a fair deal. He even started writing about you and unconsciously smiled to himself as he took you as his muse. But then, his smile dropped as he realized just how attached he had become to you.

He looked up at you from his typewriter and saw you hum to yourself while reading a book. It was innocent and it shouldn't make him feel the way it did, but his heart still skipped a beat.

...Sh*t.

Ghostface (In my AU, Eddie Munson is one of the Ghostfaces. I think you can guess the others. 😇)

Eddie and yourself had been friends since you were in middle school. You had heard rumors of course, but you didn't believe them. You knew deep down that Eddie was a good boy—or so you thought.

"Tell me...What is you favorite scary movie ?"

You heard someone say on the phone and frowned. Weird...You were about to answer when you heard noises coming from your kitchen. You hang up and slowly made your way to the kitchen and once inside, you found someone looking inside your fridge.

Your eyes widened and you quickly grabbed a knife.

"SHOW YOURSELF !"

The man immediately stilled and raised his hands in the air. When he finally lifted his head up, you saw Eddie with a piece of pizza in his mouth.

You let out a sigh of relief.

"Jeez, Eddie ! I thought you were a burglar !"

"...Well, if you count the cold pizza in your fridge ? Then, yes. I am a very dangerous thief.", he replied with a smile and winked playfully at you. You rolled your eyes before putting the knife down.

You then frowned and crossed your arms over your chest.

"And what exactly are you doing here ?", you asked suspiciously and Eddie chuckled awkwardly while running a hand through his brown locks nervously.

"Do I have to have a reason to come and visit my best friend ?"

You eyes narrowed, but you finally sighed and decided to let it slide.

"Fine, you weirdo. Wanna watch a movie ?", you asked and Eddie huffed a laugh.

"Does Frodo wear the ring of power ?"

You turned around and raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

"It mean yes.", he clarified and you smiled before shaking your head.

"Alright. Then, get in here."

He followed you with a smile—but his smile dropped as he saw through your window a couple of hooded figures hiding in the shadows.

"Would you wait for me darling ? There's something I have to do first. You can start without me..."

He didn't wait for an answer before walking out.

Outside :

"I told you. They're off limit.", he spoke up as soon as he was out of your ear reach. And soon enough, he got an answer.

"Come on, Eddie. Why do you have to pick all the pretty ones ?!", one of the hooded figures complained. Eddie glared at them.

"Because this one is off limits. I already told you. End of discussion, big boy."

The Ghostface who had spoken first groaned loudly in annoyance—but didn't dare insist.

However, another spoke up.

"You can't protect them forever, Eddie."

He sent a threatening glare in their direction too.

"Mind your own business, Wheeler. Or, should I remind you who decided to use their veto on the Byers' boy ?"

"HEY !", they were about to protest—but the last hooded figure cut them off.

"What's so special about that one anyway ?"

They all seemed surprised at the question and the Ghostfaces all turned towards Eddie—awaiting his answer. Eddie bit his lower lip and balled his knuckles into fists. He wouldn't tell them. They didn't need to know.

"...Go home. This place is to never be targeted again, got it ?", he replied instead and the three others groaned in frustration—but finally complied.

"Fine. Whatever."

They all left and Eddie sighed deeply before turning back towards your house. One day, he'd tell you who he really is. But, until the day comes ?

He'd simply remain your best friend Eddie.

[haillordvecnaa]

this brain rot has started 🫡

[succubusmunson]

I Can Make You Scream

Pairing: Ghostface!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: You ask Eddie to do something new in the bedroom and he is very up for it

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), slight perv!eddie, rough sex, cnc, somno, mask kink, knife play, dirty talk, boot riding, slight dub con, degradation, praise, slapping. hair pulling, name calling (slut, whore, pathetic), spitting, dacrypfillia, oral (m receiving), ball play, facial, cum play, spanking, choking, unprotexted sex, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, little aftercare

WC: 3.8K

(I have never done something like this before, enjoy!)

Tonight was movie night for Eddie and you, it happened once a week and neither of you would miss it. It was your turn to host and pick the movie and you of course picked a horror one. “Scream” was your favorite movie and you were about to introduce Eddie to it. “Listen this is one of the best horror movies to be made, I don’t want to hear any complaints coming from you.” Eddie was a picky movie watcher, always putting in his two cents when you never asked. You put the movie on and snuggled up real close to him. “Just try and enjoy this one, okay?” He nodded his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

The opening sequence of the movie was playing and you kept looking over to Eddie’s face, trying to read it. Ghostface appeared on screen and it was as if a lightbulb turned on. “Wait,” you got up and paused the movie before turning back to Eddie. “I have a thought..”

Eddie sat up and gestured for you to continue, “I’m all ears, baby.” Suddenly, you were nervous. Why were you nervous? Eddie was literally the most non-judgmental person in the world. I guess your idea was just making you feel very vulnerable since it was super kinky, even for you two. When it came to sex, Eddie and you were beyond adventurous. Before Eddie though, you weren’t as kinky, but he brought it all out. Maybe this could just be another thing to add to the list.

“So, you see the mask right?” You pointed at the television with one hand while the other twisted the end of your shirt, trying to distract your nerves. “Well, what if you were to like, wear it during sex?” You had a thought like this before, reading some taboo/erotica novels that involved something called CNC. The thought of you ever trying it never crossed your mind until tonight.

A smirk grew on Eddie’s face as he stood up and grabbed both of your hands, “Like me play the killer?” The smirk meant he liked the idea, thank God. You nodded your head at him, “we could plan something out. I don’t wanna know when it’s going to happen. I like the idea of a surprise.” Was this really going to happen? Were you really going to live out your Ghostface fantasy? You couldn’t help the throb that formed between your thighs.

“So it would be consensual, but not?” Eddie looked confused at the part, not fully understanding.

“Yeah, just acting like it’s not.” You pressed your body against his, your arms wrapped loosely around his waist, “gives the both of us more adrenaline.” The two of you talked it over more, establishing some details, boundaries, and safe words. Both of you were nervous, but more than anything, you were both excited. 

Eddie walked backwards until he softly fell onto the couch, pulling you to straddle him. “Whaddya say we get a little bit of practice in?” You felt the familiar outline of his clothed, hard cock against you and you let out the smallest whimper and nodded your head, rolling your hips against his. “Awe, can you not use your words?” Eddie placed his hands on your waist, slipping his fingers just under your loose shirt. Goosebumps rose in the presence of his fingers, sending a slight shiver down your body. His cock pressed into you more and you wanted, no need, to feel him inside you.

Your hands moved to his pants, quickly undoing the belt. “Practice makes perfect, but right now I need to feel you inside me.” Once the belt was undone and his pants were unzipped, you slipped your hand in and felt his throbbing cock. Eddie hissed at the contact and pulled you in for a heated kiss. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Eddie mumbled against your lips before flipping the top of you over, you now pinned under his body. “I have no complaints about it though.” Tonight was going to be a long night and you were so ready to feel every inch of him.

“C’mon, Eds, need it.” Begging was Eddie’s weakness and he was about to give you everything he had. The movie had now been long forgotten about.

It had been a couple weeks and both you and Eddie had forgotten your little idea, or so it seemed. What you didn’t know was that Eddie couldn’t forget it. He kept thinking back to how nervous you were to ask him to do it and how cute your reaction was when he agreed. Secretly, he had been planning the whole thing. Everything was ready to go, the last thing to do was put the plan into action. To be honest, Eddie had no idea why you were so turned on by the mask and everything, but he was always willing to try something new with you, especially when something was so kinky.

It was late at night and you had the home to yourself. Your parents were off on some trip and Eddie had called earlier to say that band practice was going to be longer tonight. You didn't think much about it, it was normal for that to happen. Instead of just sulking about not being able to see your boyfriend tonight, you turned into bed early. Hopefully tomorrow will be different. 

You were in such a deep sleep that you didn’t hear the loud boots coming up the stairs or them making their way into your room. It was quiet, almost too quiet but you were still fast asleep. A cold blade pressed to your skin made you stir a little, worrying him. Your body now positioned to where you were on your back, the blanket off your body, giving him the perfect view of your spread legs and lacy red panties. It’s as if you knew this was going to be happening tonight. 

The sight of your panties made him groan behind his mask, he had never seen someone more angelic than you. You were perfect and he couldn’t wait to corrupt you in every way possible. He pressed the blade into your thigh, watching as it made a little indentation in your skin. Trailing the blade higher, he slipped it under your panties, cutting them just the slightest bit. Now, he had a full view of your perfect little pussy and the bit of wetness that shone in the moonlight. God, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you.

A gloved hand traveled up your thigh and jolted you awake. Just as you were about to scream, another hand pressed itself against your mouth, “you make one fucking noise and I’ll make this so much worse for you.” You nodded your head against the hand before it was pulled away. You were a little scared until you looked up and saw the familiar Ghostface mask and you breathed a small sigh of relief. “No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel,” you let out a giggle until you felt the blade gently pressed against your throat and you noticeably gulped.

He cocked his head to the side, the mask eye level with you. You searched for the brown eyes that you knew too well, but saw only black. “Do you think this is a game?” The knife was pulled away and replaced with a hand. The hand squeezed at your throat and you tried your hardest to act afraid. You were pulled closer to the mask, your face now inches away from it. “I’m gonna fuck you like the stupid whore you are. Maybe, just maybe, depending on how good that sweet pussy is, I’ll show you some mercy and spare your life.”

Slowly, you nodded your head. “Please, I-I’ll do anything you want, just don’t hurt me.” Never did you ever think that you would be begging for your life, even if it was just roleplaying. He grabbed your chin and ran his thumb over your cheek, in a mock sympathy kind of way.

“So desperate to live, are you? I wonder how far you’ll go.” He ran a hand through your hair before pulling at the base, “On your knees.” You quickly followed his instructions, looking up at him with fake fear. “I saw how wet that pussy was when you were just showing it off to anyone,” he slipped his black boot under you, “go on, fuck yourself.”

You were nervous, you had never done anything like this before, but it all seemed so hot. His foot flexed under you and you could feel it against your now swollen clit. It took everything out of you to not let out a moan at the contact.

“Don’t have me waiting all night, you wouldn’t want me to get impatient.” The hand that was still in your hair pulled again and you started to move your hips. It was a weird feeling, the toe of the boot being cool and smooth, but the friction was enough for you to feel good. The more that the foot flexed under you, the more you would grind your hips. You could feel yourself getting wetter, small whimpers leaving your mouth as you held onto his leg to steady yourself.

You heard a chuckle above and you looked up, not stopping your hips. “Does it feel good, slut? Feel good to be rubbing that little clit against my boot?”When you didn’t answer, he placed the knife in his pocket and took his now free hand to slap your face, causing you to moan. “I asked a fucking question.”

“Y-yes, feels s’good.” You never thought you would be into slapping but him doing that sent an electric shock from your head straight down to your pussy.

His gloved hand came and grabbed your cheeks, hooking a thumb in your mouth. “Such a sweet mouth, need to put it to work.” He leaned down a bit and removed his mask just so you could see his mouth. He spit, directly hitting your tongue. “A drooly baby, you better swallow it.” You did as he told, immediately swallowing his spit and letting out a small hum. You kept your mouth open, waiting for what was to come. He took his hand from your cheeks and unzipped his pants, just enough to pull out his hard cock. “I think that my cock deserves some attention.” You had no time to protest, his cock sliding in your wet mouth, hitting the back of your throat. The both of you let out a groan. The feeling of his heavy cock in your mouth added more pleasure to you getting yourself off on his boot.

You kept grinding yourself against his boot as he started to fuck your face. He was timing his thrusts to the way your hips moved. You were so close, so fucking close. Your moans were muffled by his cock and you had him throwing his head back in pleasure. 

“Y’gonna cum on my boot like a good slut?” He shoved his cock further down your throat, if that was even possible. You gagged around his cock, causing some tears to flow from  your eyes and mess up the leftover makeup you had on. “Would you look at that,” he swiped a thumb over your tears before bringing it to his mouth to lick, “poor baby can’t take my cock, can she?”

That was enough to have you cumming in seconds. You pulled your mouth away from his cock and leaned forward as best as you could. It all came crashing down hard and the moans leaving you were so loud, “Eddie! Fuck, yes.” You couldn’t stop moving your hips, not until you were done making a mess.

“Who the fuck is Eddie?” He pulled your hair to force you to look at him, your breath still ragged. You watched as he moved his boot from under you, your cum dripping off it. “Be a good girl and clean up the mess you made” 

You bent down, cleaning it with a piece of clothing before he stopped you. “Use your mouth.” You stuttered to find words and he mocked you, “you made the mess, don’t act shocked.” Wanting to please him, you did as he asked. Your tongue lapped up at the mess and you couldn’t help but let a little whimper at the sweet taste of yourself. “Look at you, nothing but a pathetic little slut. You’re right where you belong; under me.” The way your pussy clenched around nothing from his words was amazing, he was really into this character.

Once satisfied, he pulled you up. You were finally level with him and you noticed those soft lips. Needing to kiss him, you leaned forward only for him to pull his mask back down before throwing you onto the bed. “I-I wanna kiss you?”

He scoffed and moved to straddle your chest, the tiniest bit of his weight pressed into you. “You think I would kiss you? I’m not your boyfriend, slut.” His cock was right at your lips, leaking precum over them. This position was new, but having his cock this close to you had your mouth water. He hooked his thumb in your mouth again before guiding his cock back inside. “So warm for me. I bet your pussy is even warmer, hmm?’” You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together, he was making you so needy. His cock throbbed on your mouth and you hummed around him, a groan fell from his lips, muffled by the mask. “Love being a little cockslut, don’t you?”

You tried your best to nod with his cock deep down your throat. He felt so good and heavy in your mouth. It just slides so easily in and out and to hear him groaning above you? Feeling the thick vein on his shaft, just feeling him was so good. Fuck, you could stay like this forever and never complain.

“You know what’s better than having my cock in your mouth?” He pulled it out, a string of your saliva mixed with his precum connecting from your lips to the tip of his cock. “My balls,” you noticed that he had pulled them out and your eyes went wide. “See something you like?” He moved forward, straddling your chest just a bit more. Now, his cock was resting against your forehead and his balls were dangling right in your mouth. “S’good for me, so greedy.” You sucked each ball into your mouth, rolling your tongue over the soft skin. He moaned above you, his hand stroking at his cock. “Wanna cum all over this pretty face.”

He was close to cumming, you could tell by the way his balls tensed up in your mouth. The feeling only made you suck faster, wanting to feel his cum on you. One more suck was all it took to have him shooting his cum all over your face. It was hot and sticky, but you loved it.

“Fuck, that’s it, keep making me cum.” HIs breath was ragged the more you sucked before letting go with a wet pop. “You look so much prettier with my cum covering your face.” What he did next was totally unexpected. He licked up his cum and spit it right into your mouth, watching as you eagerly swallowed every last drop. You not only moaned at the taste of him but at how lewd that act was. 

You gulped, not wanting to beg, but you needed something. “Please, please fuck me. I need to feel you inside me. I promise I’ll be good to you.” He chuckled at your begging and moved off of you to strip off his pants and boxers. You noticed your salvia still dripping off his balls and you brought a hand down to rub at your very swollen clit. “M’so wet for you, it’ll be so easy.” You were saying anything at this point. 

“You’d let a stranger fuck you to just save your life?” He grabbed your ankles and pulled you towards the edge of the bed, “You really are a pathetic slut, aren’t you?’ Your legs spread out of habit and you swore you heard him moan at the sight of you. “You’re fucking dripping. Is this all for me? Is this because I’m treating you like the whore you are?” Your head nodded before you could even realize what he was saying, you were putty in his hands. 

He tapped the hefty tip of his cock against your clit, causing you to slightly jump at the action. His recovery time was impeccable, always so fast. You reached down and grabbed at his cock, holding it still as you grind your pussy against it. “Your cock feels so good. Can’t you feel how ready I am for you?” You watched as he breathed heavier, his cheating rising and falling deeply. The whole thing with you acting scared left the room forever ago, the need for him taken over.

“Gonna take what I give you?” He swatted your hand away before taking his own to guide him into your aching hole. He threw his head back in pleasure as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Your pussy is swallowing me so nicely, might have to keep you around.” He was right, your pussy was made for one cock, his cock, Eddie’s cock. 

He slowly pulled out, leaving just the tip in, You clenched around him and let out a broken gasp, “need more.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying your beat to push him back in. The need to feel him deep inside you was too much, all of it was too much but in a good way.

“Oh, I’ll give you more.” He snapped his hips, slamming back in and bottoming out inside you. Your head slammed against the pillow and a scream of his name left your lips, this time he didn’t correct you. “That’s it, let everyone know who is filling this tight little pussy up.” His hands spread your thighs further apart and somehow his cock sunk deeper into you. “Fuck, gonna stretch this pussy out s-so nice.” 

There were no coherent thoughts inside your brain, you could only focus on the feeling of him driving his cock in and out of your soaked pussy and the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing off the walls. “Y-you fill me so good, so full.” Your brain was so fuzzy and you felt that familiar tightness bubble up in your stomach again. He noticed it too, noticed the way your legs shook and your back arched up. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It came fast, you felt your whole body tense up and cum around his cock. It felt like you couldn’t stop, “t-too much.” 

You tried to push him away, but he kept fucking into you. This man was absolutely relentless. “I think you have one more in you, yeah?” He pulled out only to flip you on your stomach and pull your ass into the air. You felt a slap on your ass, and then another one. Each slap sends a shiver up your spine. “Look at you, dripping cum onto the bed.” He swiped a finger up your thigh before popping it under his mask and into his mouth. “So sweet,” he slid back in, his fingers now gripping your hips. It started off slow this time, letting you feel every part of his cock. A hand came around and wrapped around your throat. It squeezed, cutting off a bit of your air. “Mmm, you like this, I can tell. Me choking you made your pretty pussy clench around me.” 

“Just like that Ed’s, don’t s-stop.” You bounced against him, meeting him halfway. He pressed his head against your neck, his moans still muffled behind the mask but still loud enough for you to hear. “Please cum in me. Fill me up with it all, want it to be leaking out of me.” He let out an almost growl, snapping his hips faster and shoving your face into the pillows.

“That’s what you want? Just wanna be my little cumslut?” He was getting close, his hips were stuttering and his words were coming out broken. You were close too, your body was reacting in a way you’ve never felt before. Every part of your body was on fire and to add fuel to it, he trailed the hand that was around your throat down your body and began to rub fast circles around your clit. 

That was all it took to send your body into a shockwave. Your toes curled and the moans leaving you were borderline pornagraphic. A gush left you and soaked down your legs and made a huge mess on the bed. Your body was working on overdrive and it was like the only sense you had was touch. “Eddie, fuck I-,” it all felt so good that you couldn’t even speak properly.

Eddie was right behind you, slumping over your body as he emptied out inside of you, “milk my fucking cock.” You felt his cum deep inside of you and your body fell forward. Every part of you was sensitive and worn out. 

Apparently Eddie wasn’t done, leaning over you to grab the polaroid camera from your nightstand and pulling you up by your hair. “Smile for the camera,” you couldn’t even do that, you were so fucked out.

Eddie pulled out, the sensation making you hiss. “Shh, it’s okay.” He grabbed an old tee shirt off the floor and tried his best to clean you up. You didn’t even notice that he had taken the mask off until you turned your head to look at him. He gave you a gentle smile before walking over to you and pressing a long kiss to your forehead. “You’re fucking amazing.”

You tried your best to laugh before pulling him to lay down with you, “if anyone is amazing it’s you.” Eddie wrapped his arms around you, neither caring that you were both hot and sweaty. “Didn’t know you had that much in you.” Your head rested on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow down from the adrenaline rush the both of you had just endured.

“Well, I know one thing,” he reached an arm over and grabbed the now fully developed picture he had taken of the two of you, “I’m never getting rid of that mask if that is what it gets you to squirt.” Eddie laughed which made his chest rumble. You both admired the picture before you yawned.

There was no need for covers tonight, the air still hot and sticky with sex. You two just snuggled up together. “Goodnight, Ghostface.” You couldn’t help but giggle at Eddie rolling his eyes.

“Goodnight, baby.” It wasn’t long before you heard and felt his snores, lulling you to sleep. This would definitely be something neither of you forget.

Tagging: @elshifts @rossmccallsqueen @manddoublee @buckleybby @onehotgreasymechanic @plant-hoe69 @aree-you-sirius-rn @nayely45 @pipops

[munsons-curls]

Black Dahlias

Pairing: Ghostface!Eddie Munson x F! Reader (18+)

Contains: 18+!! Heavy, graphic smut. Rough, unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral sex (M/F receiving), praise kink, slight degradation, breeding kink if you squint, possessive!eddie, mean!eddie, slight innocence kink. Minor ghostface!steve. CANON DIVERGENT.

Trigger warnings: DUBCON, knife play, stalking, panty theft, drinking and drug consumption, emetophobia, allusions to sexual assault and child abuse, graphic depictions of murder, violence and gore. <-PLEASE HEED THESE TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!

A/N: happy All Hallows’ Eve!! 🎃 thank you so so so much to T @hotchs-bitch for leaving me 112 comments on this Google doc despite having her own 17k word WIP. I love u.

Somebody’s watching you. 

Your eyes dart around the open courtyard, scanning the area for anything, anybody that stands out, but the unease rolling in your stomach dissipates as quickly as it arrives. 

In the distance, you spot a tall figure lighting a cigarette under the awning of the drama block. His dark, curly hair sits at his leather and denim clad shoulders, ringed fingers bringing a cigarette to his mouth. He’s initially a cutting figure, intimidating and looming but you find yourself drawn to him in a magnetic way. 

You meet his eyes briefly, your attention ripped away when a girl with short, dirty blonde hair rushes past you, splashing you with her converse. She windmills to a stop and begins apologising profusely, running back to you. 

You meet his eyes briefly, your attention ripped away when a girl with short, dirty blonde hair rushes past you, splashing you with her converse. She windmills to a stop and begins apologising profusely, running back to you. 

“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit, I’m so sorry.” She rasps. “I totally didn’t even see that stupid puddle and now you’re soaking!” 

“No harm done.” You smile, downcast. “I was already wet.” 

She looks you up and down, her eyes widening at you soaking through your clothes. “I’m so sorry. Do you have, like. A ride or something? How long have you been waiting here?” 

“Since class let out. I’m just waiting for the rain to clear to walk home.” You smile.

“Okay. Forget it. C’mon. You’re coming with me.” You’re being dragged away by a well-meaning hand before you can protest, leading you to a dark red BMW. “C’mon!” She insists when you drag your heels, pulling you down the hilly path to the car. 

You curiously look back for the figure in the distance, but he’s gone by the time you manage to pull free of your new friend. 

“I’m Robin. And that head of hair you see is Steve.” She says, motioning to the driver in a green uniform vest.

You greet Steve quickly and he mock-salutes you with two fingers, offering you a tight smile as Robin ferries you into the back of the car, quickly taking her place in the passenger side. She shakes out her hair, water droplets splattering Steve. 

He squirms and wipes his face before starting the car. “I’ve been waiting here for ten minutes, Robin. I’ve told you—if you want rides from me, the least you can do is be on time.” 

Evidently, Robin bringing in strays isn’t new to Steve, he doesn’t seem at all irritated by an unknown girl dripping rainwater in the back of his BMW. He’s more irritated by the wait. 

“Vickie needed help with a special project! Besides, class actually let out fifteen minutes ago, so technically we’re both late.” 

You stifle a laugh in the backseat, and your driver’s eyes flit up to yours through the rear view mirror. “Who’s your friend?” 

“That. Is actually a great question.” She muses. “We just met and I couldn’t stand to leave her out in the rain. I didn’t get your name.” She turns around to face you. “Did I?” 

She seems harmless enough, a little frazzled and chaotic, but rumours about this town put you on edge. The cult-like unsolved murder of Chrissy Cunningham two months ago still sits like a layer of smog over the town, a simultaneous refusal of the townspeople to acknowledge it—or let it go. 

You know the guy accused was cleared. How or why—you’re not privy to yet. 

You will be soon enough. 

You smile and tell Robin your name. 

“Are you new to town? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Steve asks. 

“Yeah, my dad took a job at that new state lab, so I transferred in.”

“I see. And where am I taking you lovely ladies today?” 

Robin’s face crinkles and she rolls her eyes, a silent plea to ignore her friend and his overt-chivalry. “Do you have the video for Nance’s?” Steve nods. “Then we can go straight there.” 

Your brows furrow. “I’m sorry. Where are we going?”

“Our friend Nancy hosts a movie marathon every Friday with a few other friends of ours.” She adds proudly, “Courtesy of Steve and I — we work at Family Video, over at the strip mall on Franklin and Marsh.” 

“Ah.”

“Yeah. You’re gonna love it, it’s great!”

“Oh, no. No, I really appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t want to intrude, I don’t think your friend would be too happy about somebody just, y’know. Waltzing in.” You chuckle. 

“Oh, trust me. You don’t know Nancy. She loves playing hostess, and she’ll love you. Don’t worry.” Robin reassures you, pulling down her visor mirror. 

Steve hums, agreeing with Robin. “She’s right. Half of Hawkins practically has a key to the Wheeler’s. Just, y’know. Don’t tell Ted.”

You smile awkwardly, settling in a little better in the backseat. You don’t interject in the conversation much, Robin thankfully takes care of that for you as she rambles to Steve about Vickie and her new boyfriend. 

You’re content to let the heaters warm your skin, and to watch the rows of houses go by, cautiously relieved at the possibility of some new friends after two months of loneliness. 

At the Wheeler’s, you introduce yourself politely to Mrs Wheeler, offering a smile to the distracted man in front of the TV. Steve looks at you, mouths, “Ted.” And you nod in understanding, suppressing a laugh. 

Mrs Wheeler hands you a warm towel and ushers the three of you down into the basement. 

“Nothing too scary.” She says pointedly, looking at Steve. “If I have to sleep in the same bed as my twelve year old son again, there will be hell to pay, Steven.” 

“Yes, ma’am. I promise. Nothing too scary.” 

You follow Robin and Steve down into the basement; cozily decorated with throw blankets, cushy rugs, a sofa and a loveseat bracketing a TV on the far edge. Sconces and low lamps light the space, illuminating the group huddled in front of the TV. 

“Who’s ready for Halloween II?” Steve exclaims, fishing out a VHS from under his windbreaker. 

“Ah, so he lives!” Says a theatric, but deep voice behind you. “You’re twenty minutes late, Harrington.” 

You let the voice wash over you before you turn around. Your breath hitches when you match the voice to the same figure who was lighting a cigarette under the gym awning just a little while ago. 

You study him now, up close. Shoulder length, curly hair, sharp bone structure. High cheekbones and an angular jawline, a strong neck, full, red lips and most disarmingly, big, brown eyes. He’s intense up close, but it’s not an intensity you necessarily have a desire to run from. 

His brow raises at your inquisitive gaze—you’ve been staring. “This one of your strays, Harrington? Or is this Buck’s doing?” 

Steve gestures vaguely before walking away, leaving Robin—Buck—to make your introduction before joining Steve too. You pull your towel closer to your body, goosebumps erupting on your skin under an intense gaze. 

He extends a large hand, chain link bracelet falling around his wrist. “Hey. Eddie.” 

You take his hand, warm and large, in yours, letting his fingers wrap around the back of your palm firmly. Your voice is hoarse when you tell him your name and he laughs. A throaty sound that emanates from his chest, a grin taking over his face.

He has dimples.  

“Yeah, I know.”

Your heart skids to a stop. “You do?”

“Yeah? Buck just told me.” He replies, looking at you quizzically. He wraps his hands around your upper arms, manoeuvring you so he can slide past, his chest pressing against your back. His leathery, piney scent drifts to your nose. “You comin’?” 

You nod meekly, watching him take a seat on the couch, legs spread apart as he adjusts his hips and sinks down in his seat. Fondness spreads through you at the awkward, oddly charismatic way he carries himself. He lays an arm over the back of the couch leisurely, opening himself up as Nancy winds the VHS. 

Magnetic as he may be, there’s a shroud of something around him, something dark that extends past his appearance. 

You make a resolution not to find out, to get through this year without mishap, but when Nancy takes the last viable seat, you’re left to take a seat next to the guy you promised to swear off. 

Eddie stiffens when you take the seat next to him, awkwardly tensing and stealing looks. Robin offers you a comforting smile as the movie starts, and while you stay firm on wanting as much distance between you and Eddie as you can manage, the heat between you slowly builds, and the distance becomes smaller. The pull towards each other becomes heady until you’re pressed up against one another, your shoulder tucked into Eddie’s arm, your head under his chin. 

You feel his heart rate spike at the jumpscares, matching yours, but where you wear fear and apprehension on your face—Eddie wears excitement. 

——————————————————————————

Somebody’s watching you. 

It’s a thought that crosses your mind multiple times a day, every day for around ten months now. It starts as a fleeting occurrence, something you can chalk up to anxiety, but as the days pass, the rolling unease in your stomach, and the pressure on the back of your neck becomes more insistent. 

Somebody’s watching you. 

It’s near constant; following you at home, through the school hallways, free periods, the mall. It’s worse at night. With fall on the horizon, the days are shorter, and in the dead of night, you feel as though there are eyes on you, crawling up your body like little fire ants. 

Curtains and blinds don’t help. The feeling is heavier when you can’t see what lurks outside. 

A heavy thump from downstairs tears you from a deep sleep, the sound grabbing you by the chest and slamming you into consciousness. You sit idly for a few seconds, allowing your brain to catch up and your heart to settle down before you brave breaching your covers. 

You glance at the clock. 

02:22. 

It’s not until you’re several shaky steps towards your bedroom door that you realise what the sound was. 

Somebody closed your front door. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins, making sure you’re wide awake. You reach for the door with trembling hands and step outside into the lit hallway—you can’t sleep in a dark home when you’re alone. 

“Dad?” You call out. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing for his voice to call back so badly, you almost imagine it. He’s not due back for another five days, and when you lean over the bannister to look at the entryway, and don’t miraculously see his shoes—your blood runs ice cold. 

Somebody was in your house. 

There’s an idiom associated with horror movies. 

When you hear a strange noise, going to investigate is an almost sure fire way to get yourself killed and have your face plastered on the front page of tomorrow’s paper. But your feet carry you downstairs anyway, curiosity outweighing rational thought. You at least want to know if you need to get the hell out of your house, and with no escape upstairs, you’re safer downstairs. 

The floorboards under the stairs creak with your weight as you pad down to the front door, double checking the lock. You slowly check the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen when a chilling thought occurs to you. 

You freeze. 

The door closing could have been a person going out. 

Or a person coming in. 

Ice freezes down your spine, cracking your resolve as your heart jumps to your mouth. Suddenly, the kitchen phone rings and you yelp, body recoiling at the sound. 

“Hello?” 

“You want to play a game?” A voice leers. 

“What?” 

“I’m just messin’,” replies a more familiar voice. “What are you doin’ up this late?” 

“Eddie?”

“No, the fuckin’ Grim Reaper.” He deadpans. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. What are you doin’ up’?” 

“Nothing. Just needed some water.” You reply absent-mindedly, filling up your glass. 

You’re here, you might as well. 

The water replenishing your dehydrated body kicks your brain into gear, a thought occurring to you. “Wait. Why did you call me if you didn’t know I’d be awake?” 

“I saw your lights on.” 

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean, you ‘saw my lights on’?”

“Relax, 21 Questions. I’m doin’ a run for one of my regulars and I was in your neighbourhood. Thought I’d drive by and see if you were all good since you were so tetchy about a week alone. Saw your lights on—gave you a call. That okay?” 

You smile at his gruff gesture. 

You’ve learned that about Eddie in the past ten months. He’s well-meaning, but every sweet gesture is undercut by a layer of sarcasm and gruffness. You don’t blame him for his coldness. 

Despite moving to town two months after Chrissy’s death, you were quickly made privy to everything that happened, and the aftermath, you saw for yourself. Eddie, despite being cleared, still subjected to whispers and dirty looks, branded a devil worshipper and a cult worshipper and a murderer. 

Graffiti on his locker, snide comments in the halls, even his business took a hit. His only saving graces were Hopper, who’d cleared him, his Uncle Wayne and your group of your friends—and to a lesser degree—you. 

“Of course that’s okay.” You reply. 

He makes a non-committal noise. “You doing okay, though?”

A part of you wants to tell him you’re scared, maybe have him blow off his weed run and come keep you company. There’s a safeness with Eddie, but you decide against it. 

Your voice pinches when you speak. “Yeah. All good.” 

A moment of silence stretches between you, almost like he doesn’t believe you. He breaks the silence finally. 

“You sure?”

“Mhm.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“See you tomorrow.” You finish and slide the phone back into the hook. 

You replenish your glass of water, content to explain the slamming sound away as yet another coincidence—maybe as a dream your brain confused with reality when you were coming to. 

As you set the glass on the kitchen island, your eyes catch a glimpse of something behind the roll of tissue. You slowly reach forward, moving the tissue out of the way to reveal a single flower with thin, dark maroon petals and a pink centre. 

A black dahlia. 

You pluck it from the countertop with a shaky breath, examining it under the light, and drop it when you feel a pull at the back of your neck, the feeling of somebody’s eyes on you returning again, making you feel uneasy.

You don’t spare the flower, nor the window behind you a second look, the glass of water left on the marble as you grab a knife and walk firmly to the couch in the living room. You draw the curtains and switch on the TV, flick through until a rerun of a movie plays on mute in the background, lulling you into as deep of a sleep as you can manage in the circumstances. 

But somebody’s watching you. 

——————————————————————————

You drag your body through the hallways the next morning, eyes weighed down like dumbbells and head fuzzy from the lack of sleep. You let your head rest against the cool metal of your locker to offer you some relief as your eyes close, succumbing to your exhaustion. 

“Hey!” Nancy’s voice chirps. She looks at you perplexed when you jump. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

You blink heavily and pull your locker open. “No, it’s fine. Just tired, that’s all.” 

“Did you stay up late studying for Mr Haskell’s?” She asks, propping her hardback textbooks against her hip. 

Shit. 

“God, I wish. I actually forgot.” You sigh, grabbing your binders. 

Your peripheral registers something falling out of your locker and drifting to the floor as you take out your things. Nancy’s quicker than you, balances her books on her hip and bends to pick up the item, your heart skidding to a halt when you see it in her hand.

Another black dahlia. 

You feel the blood drain from your face, your stomach dropping and fingers going numb. 

He was here. You’re being followed. 

You feel that ominous feeling return, the feeling that you’re being watched, the crowd in the hallways offering you no solace. It feels like walking through a group of people with an invisible stab wound, nobody any the wiser of your impending doom except for you. 

Nancy spins the flower from the stem, a smile taking over her face as she extends it to you. “A dahlia… nice. Who’s the guy?” She asks in a sing-song voice. 

Your voice feels far away when you answer her. “There’s no guy.”

“Sure. She says sardonically. “You have flowers in your locker but no secret admirer. I want details.” As she walks away, she nods as an acknowledgement to somebody behind you.

You squeeze the flower between your hand just as a strong pair of hands pat, or rather, jostle your shoulders. 

“What’s this I hear about a secret admirer?” 

“Christ, Eddie. You almost gave me a heart attack.” You mutter, stuffing the flower into your pocket. 

His eyes narrow as he scans your face. His gaze is intense, but it offers you an odd kind of relief— his exuberance oddly cancelling out the nauseating fear clouding you. 

Leaning against Nancy’s locker with his hands in his pockets, he asks, “Why so tetchy? You okay?” 

“I’m fine.”

He leans in, looks down at you with a gaze that makes your skin prickle, a feeling you’ve had often during your friendship. 

He taps your shin with his foot. “You know, you’re cute when you lie.”

Your breath hitches. He smells like leather and pine, and he’s tall and broad and warm, and if you leaned into him just a little, you know that some of your tension would at least melt away. 

“Really, Eddie. I’m okay.” You smile, squeezing his hand. 

You retract it quickly, Eddie stiffening when Carol saunters past you, accidentally tripping over Tina’s leg to bump into you with a sickeningly sweet, “sorry, honey.” 

Your first instinct is to push her right back. You’d love nothing more than to pull out a chunk of her hair after what she and her asshole friends did to you. You’re smarter than that, though—she’d paint herself as the victim and you’d end up in detention with a serious mark in your permanent record. 

You roll your eyes, muttering a defiant, ‘bitch’, under your breath. 

“What was that about?” Eddie asks, jerking his chin towards Carol and Tommy. 

“Nothing.” You clip. 

He narrows his eyes expectantly, giving you yet another opportunity to reveal to him what he already knows. 

Around a month ago, after a fight at a party, Steve had ended up crashing at Eddie’s for a few days after being arrested—courtesy of his ex best friend Tommy crying over a busted lip. Hopper had reassured Steve it was for appearances, that he’d be free to go as soon as his dad picked him up, secretly knowing that Tommy had most likely deserved the right hook. 

Mr. Harrington though, had kicked Steve out after making his bail. It was then Steve had told Eddie about the incident at the party, about how Robin had called him absolutely furious after Tommy had tried to force himself on you. 

He’d gotten a knee to the balls from you, Robin and Nancy piling on, and a right hook from Steve, but the damage had been done. By the next morning, Tina and Carol had worked their magic, branding you as the whore who tried to steal Carol’s boyfriend. 

Eddie watches Tommy and Carol keenly now, an expression on his face that you’ve come to see more often recently. It’s as though the warmth drains from his eyes, leaving behind an unfeeling presence before he snaps back. 

The warmth returns to his eyes as quickly as it disappears, working its way to you as if by an invisible line. “You can tell me.” He says softly. “You know you can tell me anything.” 

Your chest constricts. “Eh. Apparently, I’m a whore. It’s whatever.” 

His jaw ticks again. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re about as pure as they come.” He marvels, gaze lingering on your lips. His hand absently brushes some hair behind your ear, and he freezes, letting it hang awkwardly. 

You huff, slapping his wrist away. “Okay. Yoda? You sound like an idiot. This isn’t the 1800’s—women have and enjoy sex, you know?” 

He snaps back into his detached ruse, leaning against the locker to play with his rings. He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, suggestive lilt to his voice. 

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me more about that?” 

“Dude, you’re nasty.” 

“Maybe.” His eyes darken before he inhales deeply. “Listen, I got a free period, so I’m gonna run. I have a business meeting that is most urgent and requires my utmost attention.” 

“Eddie-“

He’s already walking away, his broad back heading for the doors at the end of the hall. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll be back by lunch, Sweetheart.” 

You smile to yourself and reach back into your pocket, having temporarily forgotten about your present. You wish you could hold onto that feeling of safety and happiness that Eddie gives you a little longer, bottle it up and use it for when your anxiety reaches its peaks. 

Being around Eddie always has that effect on you, try as you might to push it down. 

——————————————————————————

“Turn on the news.” Nancy hisses through the crackly phone. “Now!”

“Christ, Nance. Do you even know what time it is? It’s barely light outside.” You grumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Forget about the time, just turn on your TV!” 

“Okay! Okay, gimme a second.” You groan. 

You rush downstairs for the TV remote and flick through the channels until you get to the news. On the screen, police and ambulance sirens paint the scene red and blue, police tape cordoning off a house just a few blocks from yours. You turn the volume up and catch the last few words from the reporter.

“—Tragedy rocks Hawkins once again, as the bodies of two teenagers, Carol Perkins, and her boyfriend Thomas Hagan were found butchered in the early hours of this morning.”

The words go off like a bomb in your ear, the floor giving out from under your feet as you slump down on the sofa, shakily clutching the remote. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit, holy fucking shit.” You murmur. 

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” 

Your voice sounds tinny when you speak. “They were murdered?”

“Butchered.”

“God, I know I said I wanted to see her head on a spike but this is awful. I can’t believe somebody would do that.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at your proximity to the victims—despite your vitriolic hatred for the both of them, Carol and Tommy are—were—people you saw everyday. You can’t say anybody deserves to be butchered. 

“Can you meet Robin, Jonathan and me at my place in an hour? We’re gonna go get some answers.” Nancy asks. 

“Isn’t that a reporter’s job? Or the PD?” You ask, alarmed. 

“I wanna major in journalism, that basically makes me half a reporter already. Just meet at my place in an hour. Bring sensible shoes.” 

Any room for negotiation goes out of the window as the line goes dead. You set the now clammy phone down on the hook and stay rooted in spot, staring blankly at the TV as the news reel plays out in the background.

“—Police and Fire were called to the scene at around 3:00am when Perkins’ parents arrived home to a fire. Upon their arrival, they found their home in disarray and the two teenagers dead. Hawkins PD are still combing the scene for evidence and are expected to make an announcement later this evening. One thing is for sure though, it seems that death and tragedy are never too far where Hawkins is concerned.” 

You’d completely forgotten about the dark cloud that had been looming over Hawkins this past year. These new killings seem especially insidious with the anniversary of Chrissy Cunningham’s death approaching in just a few days. 

Becoming cognizant of Chrissy, you want to reach out to Eddie to ask him how he’s doing following this news. You’ve no doubt that this time of year is likely to dredge up some horrific memories for him—it’s only been a year since he was labelled as the town pariah—ostracised through no fault of his own.

This won’t help. 

He’ll be subjected to looks in the street again and whispers as he walks by, as though he’s a stain on the town. He’ll be scapegoated. Again. 

You want to reach out to Eddie for him, sure. But there’s also a selfish undercurrent to your thoughts; Eddie’s an increasingly comforting figure in your life and you need him to knock you back on track, especially if Nancy’s going to be critiquing your journalism skills this morning. 

A hit of something to get your head right. 

You hit three on your speed dial, put the coffee on while the line rings and make your way upstairs.

His voice crackles through the phone and has the strangest effect by offering you almost-immediate relief. “Who the hell is this?” He grumbles, voice thick with sleep. 

It makes your heart pick up pace. 

You stifle a laugh. “Eddie, it’s me.” 

He moans, and you picture him with mussed hair, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His voice is still thick when he talks; though, much less irritable this time. “Mornin’, sunshine. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m guessing you didn’t see the news?” 

“Nah. Not yet at least. Late night. What’s going on?” 

“It’s Carol and Tommy. They found their bodies this morning, they were killed.” You whisper the last part in a hushed tone, like verbalising it will somehow bring the curse to you. 

“Wait, what did you just say? They were murdered?” You hear rustling on the other end and assume Eddie’s making a mad dash to the living room in his boxers to turn on the TV. “Do they know who did it?” 

“No, I don’t think so. Not yet—“

“—Hey, man. Turn that up?” 

You pause in your doorway, brows furrowing. “Who are you talking to?”

“Harrington—he got into another pissing match with his dad a few nights ago, told him he could have the couch while Wayne was at work.” 

“Christ, dude. They’re saying they were butchered.” Steve says, muffled in the background. 

You straighten the edges of your bedsheets and start to pick out the sensible shoes Nancy requested, zoning in on another pair you’ll inevitably have to loan to Robin. 

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, I thought you already knew. I just…wanted to check in.” 

Eddie pauses before he speaks hesitantly. “Check in?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know it’s coming up to a year since all of that stuff happened, and I can’t imagine this is gonna be easy for you, y’know? I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

A surge of warmth spreads inside him. Rarely does he feel truly content or peaceful, especially as of late; he has enough emotional baggage to last a lifetime. But he does feel blessed to have sporadic moments of lightness—short—but always with you. 

“You sayin’ you care about me or something?” He murmurs, no doubt careful to avoid Steve’s ears but you can hear the smile in his voice. 

You snicker, your eyes falling to your slightly open underwear drawer. You go to close it with an absent-minded push of your hips when your eyes catch something. 

Your heart plummets like a lead weight, a shot of dread piercing your chest. 

“Hello? You there?” Eddie calls out, but your hands are trembling. 

Stuffed in your underwear drawer, deliberately wrapped inside a pair of white cotton panties, is another black dahlia. 

“Eddie, I’m gonna have to call you back.” You squeak.

His voice shifts. “You okay? Something wrong?” 

“Fine. I’ll talk to you later.” You clip, the phone landing with a thud against your mattress. 

You reach for the flower, gingerly unwrapping it from the white cotton only to reveal a small note tucked under the stem. Nausea claws at your stomach and invades your throat, leaving your head tingly and eyes spotty. 

Black sharpie against red paper reads;

“The things we do for love. Be seeing you soon, my flower. I have some business to take care of first.” 

It's as direct a threat to you as you’ve had so far, but there’s an insinuation there too. An icy thought sends chills through your veins. You may be responsible for Carol and Tommy’s deaths which is in itself a steel weight, but this note doesn’t indicate any sign of the violence stopping. 

If anything, it connotes the opposite. 

You can’t explain the paranoia and the flowers away, can’t live in the content grey safety of denial anymore. He was here. 

In your room. Rifling through your underwear drawer. Watching you sleep. 

Could he have touched you? 

Are you the business he has to take care of? 

Your stomach rolls, and you run to the bathroom to empty your guts into the toilet, gagging until the remnants of last night’s barely-there-dinner are gone and you’re shivering and cold on the tiled floor. 

You’re hit with the feeling of somebody watching you again, pressure tugging at the back of your neck like tiny threads under your skin. Your eyes dart out of the window but you don’t see anything. 

Or anybody. 

You never do. 

——————————————————————————

Your investigation with Robin and Nancy turns up nothing except more disturbing information, which you grimly conclude could well predict your own demise. You’re running on fumes, paranoid and scared for your life, the walk up the stairs to get into school seeming like a chore. 

“Tommy went first.” Robin tells Eddie the following morning. 

“What?” He asks, dodging Robin’s attempt to snatch the cigarette out of his mouth. She tries again, but he dodges again, manoeuvring you to walk between them. 

“Yeah. We overheard Hopper and Callahan over the radio. He was shot in both knees first, tied to a chair, gagged, then stabbed. His insides…on the outside.” 

Eddie’s face contorts, not so much in horror, but in mild disgust as he exhales a cloud of smoke. It seems Tommy had enemies in just about every circle except for his own; and despite your best intentions not to think it, you conclude that somebody finally decided to take matters into their own hands. 

“And Carol? Stabbed in the back, chest, and neck. Gutted and tied to a tree. Can you believe that shit? This guy is serious.” Robin continues. 

She’s managed to dig up a rubber band from inside her pocket and snaps it against her wrist, each slap against her skin housing a migraine deeper in your temple. 

You wince. 

“Careful, Buck. Almost sounds like you admire him. Besides, how do you know it’s a guy?” Eddie asks, taking a drag of his cigarette. 

“Statistics.” Nancy interjects, clicking her locker shut. “Violent kills are almost always executed by men. That, and the fact that it would take a pretty huge guy to hog-tie Tommy, and then string Carol’s dead body up on a tree.” 

“Alright.” You feel nausea rising in your stomach again. Slamming your locker shut, you squeeze your eyes closed. “Can we not? I feel sick.” 

“You look it.” Robin deadpans, raising her hands in defence when you, Nancy and Eddie cut her a look. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it in a you-look-awful way, I’m just saying you look like you haven’t been sleeping.” 

Eddie’s hand cups your cheek, gently turning your face to his. “Yeah. Have you been sleeping?” He asks, cigarette tucked between his lips. His thumb runs over the delicate skin under your eyes. “You look so tired.” 

You tense up at the sudden contact from Eddie, who, despite being notoriously tactile, isn't somebody you’d ever describe as affectionate except maybe with Dustin and the kids. 

You allow yourself a moment of weakness to melt into his touch, his warm skin and icy rings, but your eyes dart to Robin and Nancy who share a wry look. You become aware of the droves of people staring and whispering as they go by too, and suddenly your throat feels tight. 

“I’m fine.” You clip, prying yourself away from his tender touch and he reacts by awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets, hurt by the sudden change. 

He knows it’s because people are staring, he just hadn’t expected you to care. You can’t handle the eyes on you—not when there’s somebody breathing down your neck. 

The rational part of you knows that it’s because you’re in such close proximity to Eddie, who’s been re-subjected to dirty looks and hostile whispers since Tommy and Carol died yesterday. It seems that despite his name being cleared in good faith last year, the people of Hawkins merely needed a reason to scapegoat Eddie again, all too quick to spit the words devil worshipper and cult leader his way.   

Eddie brushes the looks off, his jaw tensing and releasing, tensing and releasing, shoulders tight like a coil as he takes a deep drag of his cigarette. 

“Fuckin’ morons.” He mutters under his breath. “A serial killer walks the streets of Hawkins but sure…” He mock lunges at a group of lowerclassmen who flinch and disperse down the hallway, earning more looks from passersby. “Let's all gather around to stare at the freak.” 

“Mr. Munson,” Higgins’ voice booms, his eyes falling to the cigarette in Eddie’s mouth. “You can either put that out, or I can put it out for you—and while I do relish in giving you detention—I no longer wish to see you roam these halls for yet another year. I’m frankly sick of seeing your face.” 

“Oh believe me. The feeling’s mutual, asshole.” Eddie grumbles, a begrudging appeasement on his face. He theatrically plucks the cigarette from his mouth and puts it out against the metal rim of the bin behind you. “Guy’s a pain in my sack.” 

Robin’s cackle is cut short when a sudden buzz crawls over the student body. It takes over like a swarm of bees, students yelling and clamouring in the direction of the football field. In the distance, you see Argyle and a pale Jonathan cut through the crowd, right as Mr Higgins receives a radio transmission and pushes through the horde himself. 

You narrow your eyes, your group pulling Jonathan and Argyle to the side of the stampede. “What’s going on?” 

“Dudes, they found another body.” Argyle tells the group. 

The news hits you with the subtlety of a crashing train, leaving the words ricocheting in your ear. You fight to keep your composure, doing the maths in your head to figure out where on your shadow’s roster you fall. 

“What? Who? Where? How? How do you guys know?” Nancy asks in rapid succession, grabbing Jonathan and Argyle with a hand each. 

“I was walking down to take pictures out on the football field for the yearbook, and saw what I thought was a doll or a scarecrow or something. Just hanging from the goalpost.” Jonathan pants weakly. 

“Yeah. Got closer and realised it was a real person. A lady.” Argyle adds, shaking his head. 

Eddie huffs, leaning against his locker. “A lady?” 

“Tina.” Jonathan corrects. “Somebody already tipped off the cops—Hopper pulled up right as we saw her body. She was in her pyjamas, you guys. All covered in blood.” He runs a stressed hand through his hair, bending to put his hands on his knees. “I think I’m gonna throw up.” He wheezes. 

Argyle rubs his back sympathetically, while Nancy kicks herself into high gear. Rifling through her locker, she grabs her school newspaper notebook and best ballpoint pen—the kind she reserves for sleuthing and writing speeches—and turns heel. 

“I swear, if you want something done right…” she mutters and she’s a flash of a perm as she scurries away, joining the now well-informed student body of the attraction outside. 

The gaggle eventually dies down and gets filtered into the gym, squashed together like sardines in a can; some taking up the bleachers, some using the benches, the lowerclassmen claiming the floor as their sitting space. 

Eddie tucks you into his arm on the sidelines where the rest of your friends sit in an effort to conserve space. He balances his copy of Lord of The Rings on his knee, the spine snapped, edges frayed and tattered, various motor oil stains soaked into the paper with rows and rows of annotations littering the page. 

At best, it's well-loved—at worst, it’s unreadable—but it’s one of Eddie’s prized possessions and it shows. 

Higgins’ voice through the speaker silences the hustle of whispering students, rumours and gossip dying down almost immediately. 

“All classes are henceforth suspended until further notice. When prompted, please collect all important belongings from your lockers and proceed to leave in an orderly fashion. Police Chief Hopper also has an announcement to make—please remain where you are for now.” 

Cheers for class suspension are cut short when Hopper swiftly implements a strict citywide 9:00pm curfew. 

“Any citizens reported to be out after this time will be brought in by an officer and questioned before release. It is vital you heed this curfew as it has been put in place for your own safety. Please report any concerns directly to the Police Department or call 9-1-1. Thank you.” 

A resigned groan makes its way through the crowd as students filter out, Tommy’s old friend group uncharacteristically quiet; haunted by the news. It tracks—the only discernible pattern so far is that the killer has a vendetta against their group of friends. 

It’s your own entanglement that doesn't track. 

“So. What’s the rundown?” Robin asks Nancy as you make your way down to the parking lot. 

Nancy looks pale. “Tina was cut from chin to stomach through her nightgown.” She says, shakily. “But there’s more.”

Your blood runs cold. “More?”

“Yeah. It’s not confirmed yet, but I overheard Hopper telling Higgins they found another body this morning on the other side of town. They said the description matched Fred Benson.”

“The guy who did the student paper with you?” Eddie asks. 

Nancy bristles. Her relationship with Fred had soured last year after he insisted on covering Chrissy’s murder, putting Eddie at the forefront. Nancy had refused—then fired him. 

“Yeah.” She goes on. “Parents didn’t even know he was missing.” 

Nancy’s words only stand to remind you that you too could be murdered and strung up like a carcass for the town to see—and nobody would be any the wiser until it was too late. 

You should tell somebody. Anybody. But your mind stops you, a terrifying thought crossing your mind. Telling your friends could put them in danger too. Taking out entire friendship groups seems like a day’s work for this killer, and if anything happened to your friends, you’d never forgive yourself. 

“I’m gonna wait for Will and the rest of those guys, make sure they’re okay, but we’ll reconvene at Nance’s?” Jonathan asks. 

“Wait—you heard Hopper. There’s a curfew.” You say.

Nancy shrugs. “Safety in numbers. C’mon.”

Eddie pats your shoulder as he lights another cigarette. “I’ll catch up with you guys later—I left my briefcase inside. I’ll bring the beer to Nance’s.” 

“Somebody’s gotta tell Steve, does he even know what’s going on?” You ask.

“I’ll take care of it.” Eddie says, voice thick with smoke. “I gotta swing by Family Video anyhow, it appears Keith is in the market for my recreational sleeping aids.” 

Argyle gestures to Eddie who gives him the affirmative—and you shake your head. A serial killer walks the streets and your friends are making sure there’s enough weed at an unmandated ‘gathering’. 

“Be safe?” You call out to Eddie.

He kicks his leg, gives you a mock salute. “Always am. You too.” 

——————————————————————————

“Well. I’m just saying, y’know. There are certain rules when it comes to slashers.” Jonathan mumbles through a mouthful of chips. 

“Is that what this is? A slasher?” Steve asks, adjusting in his seat. 

The basement air smells like weed and cheap beer, the sourness of the salsa that Robin opened twenty minutes ago cutting through the stench. Your stomach is already in pieces with worry, talk of a slasher movie and the dank air does little to quell your nerves. 

“Yeah. I mean. Think about it.” He munches. “You got a guy in a mask goin’ around, killing a bunch of teenagers, hanging them up on goalposts?”

Argyle’s content to listen, offering a grunt of agreement here and there, but he pipes up. “Yeah. Plus, y’know the whole haunted past in a small town thing. No offence, my dude.” He says to Eddie. 

Eddie raises his brows, shakes his head. No harm done. 

“So, these rules then. Let’s have ‘em.” Steve says. “What do you got?”

“Well. The first is that everybody’s a suspect. Everybody. That’s a given.” 

“Yeah. No shit.” Steve nods, huffing a laugh.

Jonathan stands up, his eyes wide. “Now the rules to surviving a slasher movie—well. That’s a whole different ball game.” 

“Go on.”

“Rule number one: never have sex.” 

You catch Eddie’s eye from across the room. It’s something you’d noticed pretty much the day you met; oftentimes you’d be engrossed in something, or just happen to look up at Eddie to find him already watching you. His gaze makes your skin prickle with intensity, blood warming under your skin. 

Despite being in a room full of people, your looks always seem like they’re reserved just for the two of you, an invisible string tying you to him and pulling you closer despite the physical distance remaining the same. 

“—Big no.” Jonathan continues. “Sex equals death. Slasher and horror symbolism in general relies heavily on the innocent virgin as a survivor trope. Promiscuity guarantees death.” 

Eddie’s gaze lingers on yours, his elbows perched on his knees, chin tucked into his chest. He looks good in this light, full lips casting a shadow, his eyes transfixed on you. You lose your nerve and look away, but can’t fight the desire to glance at him again. 

He’s still watching you with almost drunken eyes that you attribute to the beer, though you know he can handle his alcohol.

“Number two: no drinking or doing drugs. It’s an extension of number one—the sin factor. It’s a sin!” 

“Oh great. Guess we’re all fucked.” Steve mutters, taking a swig of his beer. “It’s bullshit, man. This isn’t a slasher and no serial killer is going to know if you’re a boring, sober, virgin.” 

Eddie finally averts his gaze, picking at the frayed denim on his jeans. “Byers, you know I make my living supplying recreational substances to those in need.” 

“—And Steve has deflowered every legal girl who likes men, all the way up to like, Fort Wayne.” Robin snorts, raising her drink. 

“Well—not exactly.” Steve squints. “But they both make a good point. By your so-called rules, Byers; Eddie and I would’ve been the first ones to go.” 

You shake your head, feeling a massive tangent coming and decide to cut out while you can. The thought of going home to an empty house fills you with dread, especially with the recent uptick in dead bodies. You can’t sleep, not when your ears pick up the smallest noises and twist them into sinister scenarios. 

The wind howling through the gaps in your windows sounds eerily like somebody screaming, the floorboards settling make you see an intruder out of the corner of your eye. 

You’re exhausted. 

Nancy follows you upstairs, turning you by your arm. “Hey, you doing okay?”

“Yeah. It’s a little much down there.” You inhale deeply now that the air is thinner and fresher. 

“You know what they get like when they drink.” Nancy laughs. “Do you wanna stay over tonight? Robin was thinking about crashing and I don’t love the idea of you at home by yourself with everything going on. Just stay with me until your dad gets back.” 

You feel a wave of relief wash over you. “Actually, would you mind? I don’t really wanna be by myself.”

“Yeah!” She laughs. “Of course. I can take you to grab your stuff in the morning.”

“Thanks, Nance. I gotta double check the alarm and locks anyway, so I’ll go grab my things now.” You smile, turning to grab your keys from the bowl on the credenza. 

“You sure? It’s late.” 

‘Rule number 3,’ Jonathan continues downstairs out of earshot, ’never, ever, under any circumstances, say you’ll be right back.’ 

“It’s a few blocks away.” You reassure her. “I’ll be right back.” 

——————————————————————————

Somebody’s watching you. 

You feel a tug on the back of your neck when you get to the top of the Wheeler’s cul-de-sac. It becomes more insistent as you turn left on to a densely tree-lined street, which, dimly lit as usual, is eerily silent. With the exception of you and your friends, it seems the residents of Hawkins are abiding by Hopper’s mandate. 

You brush the feeling off and slide your keys between your fingers, picking up pace. By the time you get to your driveway, your heart is in your mouth and you’re almost at a full sprint, nearly slipping on the corner of a flowerbed. 

You’d devised a plan on the way home. 

Check the alarms, downstairs windows, upstairs windows, grab your bag from the closet in the hallway and pack as you go. Simple enough.

But somebody’s watching you. 

Your trembling hands make you fumble and miss the lock a few times, the key bluntly jamming against the metal. You’re finally in, about to twist the lock when a hand aggressively swipes at your arm and drags you backwards. 

You yelp, stomach swooping in pure terror, blood pounding in your ears. 

He’s here. 

You come face to face with a bloodshot Jason, whiskey heavy on his breath. He looks desperate and frenzied in just a pair of chinos and a white polo—it’s freezing out. His presence offers you an odd sense of relief, you can tell from his appearance he’s not about to hurt you and he doesn’t pose any immediate danger. 

He seems scared. 

He pulls you in close, his vice grip making your skin pinch. 

“Let go, Jason. What the hell is wrong with you, why are you outside my house?”

“I came to warn you.”

“Warn me? About what?!” You snap.

“About the company you keep.” He slurs darkly. “You’re not new anymore, but you weren’t here when it went down. When Chrissy died.” 

You squirm, attempting to free your arm, but Jason’s grip is vicious in his trance-like state. “What the hell does that have to do with me?” 

He’s here physically, but his mind is elsewhere. “It’ll be a year tomorrow. And it’s like she was never here. Like she never existed.” 

Your heart sinks for him, a loss so large, so young is sure to rock anybody. But you know the other side of him—the side that radicalised half the town into hunting down Eddie. That almost killed Lucas and Erica when they tried to help. 

“Look. Jason. I’m sorry about what happened, but that doesn’t explain why you’re grabbing my arm.” You grunt, trying to break free. “What does this have to do with me?”

He jostles you, shaking you hard enough that the pain radiates up your arm like a vine. “Everything! This has everything to do with you! Your friend? Eddie? I know they cleared him, said that he had nothing to do with it, but I know the truth. I know what he is.” He says, words dripping with disdain. 

In a surge of defensiveness, you drag the serrated edge of your keys across his skin, drawing a little blood. 

“You bitch!” He sneers, snatching his hand away. “You’ll regret that. You’ll regret not listening to me. Don’t say I didn’t warn you; don’t say I didn’t tell you what he was!” He angrily stalks off, disappearing into the tree line.

When you’d first moved to Hawkins, rumours of golden girl Chrissy dying at the hands of a satanic cult had intrigued you. Dustin had filled you in on the rest and after meeting Eddie and the rest of his innocent D&D group, you knew those rumours were a work of fiction.  

“Hey!” Eddie shouts from a few feet away. He gestures in the direction of the tree line. “Was that Jason?” 

“Yeah.” You mutter, gingerly touching your arm. 

Eddie closes the last few feet between you, jogging to you as you open your door. “What did he want?”  

“Said he saw me walking home, wanted to make sure I was okay.”

Eddie looks at you incredulously as he steps inside. “Looked intense, you okay?” 

“Yeah. All good.” 

Eddie’s eyes fall to the raised welts on your forearm, your hands paler from the lack of blood flow. He gently holds your wrist and brings it up to the hallway light to examine the marks. 

“Did Jason do that?” He asks. “Did he hurt you?” 

“No.” You sigh resignedly. “He was drinking, and he said some stuff about Chrissy’s death anniversary, I think he was just… a little out of it. Got a little overzealous.” 

“Overzealous?” Eddie asks, getting closer to you. “He left a paw print. Y’know I swear, guys like him think they can get away with anything—“

“—Yeah. But I’m fine, Eddie. It looks worse than it is.” You place your hand around his and squeeze reassuringly. “Really. I’m okay.” 

“You sure?“

“I swear, Eddie. I’m all good.” 

Your peripheral suddenly plays a cruel trick on you, making you jump at the impression of somebody in the kitchen. 

Eddie finally lets go of your hand, laughing at your reaction. “You okay? You’re really jumpy.” He asks, rubbing your shoulders as you walk into the kitchen. 

“There’s a serial killer in town, Eddie. Why aren’t you jumpy?” You deadpan. “Is that why you’re here?” 

He chuckles self-effacingly, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah. Nancy told me you took off to grab your things and I didn’t want you to have to walk by yourself with all that stuff.” He stops you from reaching for the window with a hand on your hips, walking around you instead. “Here, I got it.” 

He extends his lean body to twist the window handle, his t-shirt riding up to reveal his toned abs. Red welts—scratches—mark his stomach and a twinge of jealousy creeps up your chest when you think about how he may have gotten those marks. 

“Hey!” Eddie says, snapping his fingers. “Where do you keep goin’, you good?” 

Embarrassment warms your cheeks, snapping you back into reality. “Of course. I have my knight in shining armour, don’t I?” You say sardonically, rounding the island to go upstairs. 

You’re halfway through the hallway before you realise you’re not being followed by Eddie; he’s since taken to standing in the doorway with a look that you can’t read. 

“What is it?” You ask.

He slowly steps towards you. “I know you’re kidding, but for what it’s worth—you never have to worry about that stuff when you’re with me.” He says softly, his voice thick. “You’re always safe with me. I hope you know that.” 

You share a look in the dimly lit hallway, and you don’t know what this thing is between you—the thing where you know each other best, and look out for one another, and make one another feel safe, but where touches and looks linger for longer than they should. 

You don’t have a shadow of a doubt colouring your answer when you reply, knowing wholeheartedly that you believe it. 

“I know.” 

When you get back to Nancy’s though, the night has taken a turn for the worse. The kids sit in the living room with the rest of your friends, everybody huddled up together around the TV as the breaking news reel plays.

“What’s going on?” You ask, setting your bag by the door. 

“They found another body.” Steve tells you in a hushed voice, mindful of the kids but it’s useless—they’re watching the same thing you all are. 

“Higgins.” Nancy explains, approaching you and Eddie. Out of earshot of the kids, she says, “they found him tied to the same goal post they unhooked Tina off of today. His eyes were gouged out and he was stabbed in the neck. He bled to death.” 

Three victims. Three victims in one day. 

Nancy mirrors that thought, but all you can think about now is how much longer you can outrun the shadow breathing down your neck, seemingly getting closer every day. 

——————————————————————————

Breakfast is a bleak affair. 

Mrs. Wheeler does everything to make sure you eat, encouragingly puts out a spread that most people dream of, while Mr Wheeler grumbles under his breath. You watch the boys, El and Max stuff their faces with pancakes, syrup dripping down their chins, but after the morning news, you can barely stomach anything. 

Youre realising after watching the morning news, that it’s becoming a twisted kind of routine to wake up and expect the news of another murder. 

Today’s victim: Andy Clayton. 

Jason’s best friend and yes-man; found hacked to pieces, fibres of his letterman jacket found in his stab wounds from the brutal kill. You stick close to Nancy and Robin for the rest of the day, but when you come back from investigating, you find a chilling surprise on the Wheeler’s doorstep. 

Nancy giggles and ducks inside with Robin, leaving you with your gift. Four black dahlias tied together with a length of twine, a note folded in half between the stems. 

“I promise it won’t be much longer until we’re together, my flower. See you soon.” 

Your head instinctually whips around, your eyes scanning the street, but it’s dead silent save for the occasional passing car. You turn back to the house, ice flowing into your veins as you realise you’re a sitting duck, and staying here would put everybody else in danger too. 

The Wheelers, the kids, Robin. 

You tuck the note into your pocket along with the four flowers and grab your bags, lying to Nancy that you’ll be back. Your first stop is going to see Eddie to ask for some company at the police station. You make the walk to your house, drop your bags in the trunk of your car and make the seven mile journey to Eddie’s trailer. 

The sun sets on your way there, casting the sky in blooms of oranges and pinks, the landscape so much more vibrant in Hawkins than anywhere else you’ve lived. Eddie’s beat up van isn’t anywhere to be seen, but the lights inside his trailer are on, you knock once out of politeness and come in anyway after finding the door unlocked. 

Not that Eddie ever remembers to lock his doors. 

Inside, he’s still nowhere to be seen, the only thing interrupting the silence is the hum of the energy saver light bulb in the background and the sound of a dog barking outside. 

“Eddie?” You call out, clicking the door shut behind you. “You home?”

You’re met with more silence. 

You glance at the small clock above the hat-lined wall. 

5:30pm.

Tentatively, you take a seat on the pull out couch that Steve and Wayne have taken to sharing by now, using the time you have to contemplate how best to broach the subject of your stalker with Eddie; where to start, how much to say. 

Your legs start to tingle from nerves and pent up anxiety, forcing you to your feet. 

You pace the length of the living room and to the kitchen and back again. Your stomach knots and unknots, a surge of nervous energy lodging in your throat and dissipating throughout your chest. 

Absently, you walk into Eddie’s room—a bomb site on a good day. As you close the door behind you, something large and black swooshes against the hook, a large coat or a cloak of some kind, probably for his Hellfire Club meetings. 

You should talk to Eddie about rebranding that soon. 

You smile fondly as your eyes travel over his poster lined walls, the acoustic guitar perched in the corner, the magazines on top of his nightstand. The second drawer of his nightstand catches your eye, ajar slightly because of something caught between the drawer and the frame. 

You look closer, eyes narrowing when you pull a length of twine out from the drawer. You examine it curiously, holding it up to the light when a thought occurs to you. 

With a hesitant hand, you reach into your back pocket to pull out the dahlias you’d received earlier that day, comparing the twine to the one in your hand. Your brows furrow as you bring both pieces of twine together, joining the two diagonal edges to fit perfectly. 

It’s a dead match. 

You pull out his drawer in a daze, head growing fuzzy as you rummage through his things. It’s a coincidence—it has to be. There has to be an explanation. 

Ice flows into your veins when you find five black dahlias tucked neatly into a roll of newspaper, red square note paper next to it. Your head rushes with blood, the room spinning as you try to somehow refute what’s in front of you. 

This can’t be what you think it is. It can’t be.

You gag and run to the kitchen to empty your stomach in the sink. It’s fruitless, your stomach turning up nothing, leaving you to dry heave and clutch the counter. 

No. No, no, no. 

Your hands tremble, blood rushing in your ears and pumping through your body to drive you into high gear, to get the hell out. 

You dart for the door, grabbing your bag and keys, and slam face first into a black wall, your hands taking the brunt of the impact, the shock forcing you back a few steps. Your bags and keys fall on the floor, the blood draining from your body when you look up at a cloaked figure with a white mask. 

You tense up, making peace with the fact that this may be your end but still hold out a small amount of hope that it isn’t who you think it is behind the mask. 

Then the figure speaks, says your name in that familiar way that sends shivers up your spine. 

Eddie. 

Your knees buckle and you trip backwards, the pressure inside your head increasing until you can hear a high-pitched whine. Shakily holding out your hands in front of you, you see them stained crimson, an unknown person’s blood licking your skin. 

It’s the last thing you see before you succumb to darkness. 

——————————————————————————

A horrible weight surrounds your head and there’s a ringing in your ears when you come to. It takes a few seconds for your mind to catch up, but when it does, you jolt in your seat, your movement restricted by something binding your hands and mouth. 

You start to hyperventilate. 

“Hey. Hey. Calm down.” Eddie says, crouching in front of your chair, sporting a busted lip, a bruised eye and bloody knuckles. “Fuck—Calm down, I need you to breathe, okay?” He rips the tape off your mouth and you struggle against the ties, but he pulls the chair in by its arms.“Hey! Breathe. C’mon—just match my pace, alright, you’re gonna pass out again. Fucking breathe.”

He exaggerates his own breathing rhythm now that you can see his chest in just his t-shirt to let your breathing fall into tandem with his. You let yourself breathe, focusing on the air expanding in your lungs, but terror still grips you.  

Eddie watches you carefully, like you’re a cornered animal, his mask pulled up, hair matted to his forehead. “I’m going to cut you loose so we can talk, okay? M’gonna explain everything, but you can’t run. Can you do that?”

Images of Carol and Tommy, Tina, and the rest of his victims flash before your eyes. Eviscerated. Bludgeoned. Gutted. 

You nod, not daring to look down knowing that the rope, the chair and your skin are stained with fresh blood. 

“Good.” He breathes. 

He brings a bloody hunting knife to your wrists, lodges the flat edge between you and the rope, and cuts upwards, slicing you free. You plant your shaky feet to test the waters, and launch yourself forward into Eddie’s chest, knocking him out of the way to start running. 

“Goddamnit!” He grunts. 

You make it a grand total of two paces before Eddie easily whips you around, pinning you against the wall. His nostrils flared, he reaches into his back pocket, brandishing the knife again. A scream dies in your throat as he places the glinting silver’s blunt edge against your neck. 

“I didn’t want to use this. But I told you not to run, didn’t I? Didn’t I?!” His voice thunders inside the trailer, and you flinch backwards, hyper-aware of the knife at your throat. 

The change in his demeanour makes you feel insignificant, like you never mattered to him. That realisation makes a lump catch in your throat. “You’re… you’re—“

He nods slowly, wide grin splitting his face. “Yeah. I am.” He replies mockingly, flipping the mask back on. “What did Jonathan say? Ghostface?” 

A part of you thought—hoped—that he would try to deny it. You’d believe any explanation he’d give you if you tried hard enough, because accepting anything else would be easier than this. 

Than accepting that your best friend is a serial killer. 

“Jason… man, the bastard knows how to fight,” Eddie laments, licking his busted lip behind the mask. He clenches and unclenches his bruised hands, silver rings stained with blood. “Pulled my fucking cloak off and everything—but what are you gonna do? I had a knife. He didn’t. Bled out on my clothes but he knew it was me.” 

You don’t want to hear this. You can’t hear this.

You look desperately for an escape, eyes darting until you spot something that makes your stomach swoop violently, grief ripping through you at the prospect. 

Steve’s white Nikes, covered in blood. 

You turn to Eddie shakily, eyes wide. “Did you kill Steve?” 

He softens, trailing the knife over your cheek. You’re as still as you can be despite your body feeling like it’s vibrating, knowing too well that the smallest of movements could kill you. 

“So sweet. So naive. My flower.” He whispers. “You think I strung Tina and Higgins’ big ass up on those goalposts myself?” 

“No…. He—Steve?” You blubber, another wave of grief washing over you. You’ve just lost two of your best friends in the space of five minutes and you don’t have the time to think about the implications. You just need to make it out alive. “Why? Why did you do this? Why did you kill those people, Eddie?” 

“Because there’s only so much a person can take. I mean, a year passed since Jason sicced his merry brigade of uptight Catholics on me. They all got to move on, get college scholarships, access to trust funds and opportunities to get out of this shithole. Me? I was gonna stay here and rot.” He seethes. “I tried my best to keep it under control. To push my urges down. But then I saw Carol bump you in that hallway, and I remembered what Tommy did to you at that party. That’s when I decided to end it.”

“How do you know about that?” You shudder. 

“Harrington told me everything. Y’know for someone who secretly loves killing, he protested far too much in the beginning. Though, in his defence, I think he was a little cooked after the whole Russian torture thing. It was a perfect plan, really. I killed the people on his list—he killed the people on mine. Solid alibis. No connection.” 

“I never asked for this. For any of it. You don’t get to pin your sick little indulgences on me, Eddie.”  

He flinches, recoils at your words. “But I did it for you. To keep you safe. Why don’t you get that?!” 

Salt falls from your eyes, trails down your face until your cheeks and neck are wet, a lump in your throat. “Are you going to kill me?”

He stares in awe at the pulse visible under your neck, lightly traces his knife over it. He may not even dignify your question with a response; all he would have to do is press in and you’d bleed out right on Mr. Munson’s orange carpet. 

“I told you that you’re always safe with me, do you remember that?” When you ignore his question, he uses the knife to tip your chin up and takes the mask off. “Answer me.”

His eyes soften when he waits for you to answer, as though hanging onto your words for desperate validation. You get a glimpse of the Eddie you know—knew. 

Your Eddie. 

“Yes.” You reply truthfully. 

“So how can you ask that? How could you possibly think I’d kill you?” 

“Then why stalk me? Why send me the flowers—the letters—if I wasn’t next on your list?” You sob. “You must’ve known what I’d think, that I was scared. Why did you do that?”

“Because I love you.” He whispers reverently, closing in on you. His eyes soften, and when he says those four words, it’s Eddie. Eddie, despite the blood spatter on his neck and arms. It’s why it takes your breath away, because you can’t disregard it as the ramblings of a madman. 

There’s some truth to it—even if it is sick. 

And you hate yourself more for wanting him. 

He sheaths the knife in his back pocket, closing the distance between you. “Do you have any idea…how long I’ve wanted you? How I’ve had to keep tabs on you from afar because I was afraid of what you’d think about me? I’ve wanted you since the day you moved here, way before we ever even met.” 

You hate him. You hate yourself. You hate this. 

Your palm makes a cracking sound against his cheek, leaving a blooming red mark on his face. “I hate you.”

His lips brush against yours. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes. I fucking hate you, Eddie. You broke my trust.” 

“I know.”

Your fists beat down on his chest and arms, throwing punches against a solid chest. He grunts and takes the brunt of your beat down silently, your palms picking up the blood from his soaked t-shirt. It’s only once you’re reduced to tears that he stops you, encircling both of your blood-stained wrists and pulls you close to his chest. 

“I hate you.” You repeat in a small voice. 

“Yeah?” He asks, looking down at you. 

He looks more like himself now, the version that makes you laugh, and loves to read, and has a rich imagination. The Eddie who makes your breath catch in your throat. His gaze is heated, loaded with the challenge of your hatred for him, as though he’s waiting for you to prove it. 

His lips are plump and red, the divot on his chin pronounced. 

“You really hate me?” He whispers. “Because I’ll let you go. You can go to the police, have me arrested, I don’t care. I just want you.” 

You launch yourself at him, crushing your lips against his for a burning, all-consuming kiss. Your knees buckle at the long-awaited contact, his lips full and soft, yet demanding when they slide over yours, capturing your mouth with a bruising intensity. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to him so forcefully that it makes you mewl, the soft contours of your body moulding against his harder ones, blood soaking into your pale pink dress. 

You pull away, panting for breath. “I hate you.” You chant. “I hate you. I hate you.” 

He kisses you harder. 

Your hands tangle in his hair as his lips devour you, hungry tongue meshing with yours. He moans in pain when you suckle his bruised bottom lip, the sound going straight to your core. He frantically reaches to touch as much of you as he can, presses his body against yours to make your chest heave with pleasure.

You pull away, looking at him hesitantly. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” He pleads, voice cracking. “Don’t look at me like you’re scared of me.”

“I am scared, Eddie.” You whisper, a tear escaping your eye. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I meant it when I said I’d never hurt you. I just wanna take care of you. Make you feel good the way you deserve. Will you let me do that? Can I show you? Please?” 

Despite your fear, you’re warming to the idea that he’s still the Eddie that checks on you in the middle of the night, the Eddie that once drove an hour at 3:00am to pick you up from a party. 

You swallow. “Yes.”

His warm eyes sparkle, capture your lips in another heated kiss. He moans desperately into your mouth as your lips slide over one another, panting as he firmly runs his hands up your hips, trailing up your ribcage and to your arms. He pins your hands above your head, stretching your body out and shoves his knee between your legs.

You break away from his mouth in pleasure, the coarse denim of his jeans rubbing against your panties. Your mouth falls open, head lolling back against the wall. 

“Oh, you needed this, huh?” He says darkly, rocking his knee between your legs. “You like me. And you hate yourself for it.” 

You chase his mouth but he dodges, a wicked look on his face. You fist your hands in his shirt collar and pull him down to capture his full lips between yours again, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. 

Eddie groans, his mind immediately jumping to how you’re capable of drawing blood for him too, even if it is his own. His cock twiches. “That’s my fucking girl.” He murmurs, dragging his thumb against his lip to wipe the blood. “You’re not as innocent as you look, huh?” 

You wrap your hand around his large wrist, bring his hand to your own mouth to smear his blood on your lips. His eyes gleam, cock painfully hard. Your gaze falls to his lips, bruised and bleeding, blood in his mouth and on his chin. 

“Go ahead.” He smiles knowingly.

You let the tip of your tongue trace the blood on his chin and lick upward until you trace the seam of his lips. He swallows your next breath with a bruising kiss, your lips coming together in a frenzied, sick heat, the taste of copper and warm blood coating your tongue. 

He squeezes your hip with a large hand, brings you down to grind against his knee, the act debasing but you don’t care. Eddie makes you crazy, his broad build, his possessiveness; his dark side. 

“C’mon. Let me see that pretty face when you cum. Go ahead. Cum on my thigh like the sick little thing you are.” He murmurs, looking down at the mess you’re leaving on his jeans. He roughly forces you to look down, his hands framing your face. “Look at that. Look at the mess you’re leaving. Soaking fucking wet and I haven’t even touched you yet, do I make that cunt leak, baby? That all for me?” 

“Yeah, Eddie. For you. For you.” You chant.

“Atta girl. Cum for me now. Cum on my thigh.” He coos, rocking his leg up into you. “Let go, c’mon.” 

The coil in your stomach wraps tighter around itself, Eddie’s rough words making you throw your head back in a silent moan as you finally come undone. He holds you close to him, an arm around your waist to help you ride out your orgasm, your arms around his shoulders, held in a tight embrace as he continues to grind his knee into your pussy.

“Oh that’s it, that’s my pretty fucking girl. So good for me, doing exactly as I ask you. So fucking good, baby. Just breathe—you got it. Good girl.” 

His words somehow prolong your orgasm, your pussy convulsing around nothing, until all you can do is dig your nails into Eddie’s shoulders and cry. 

When you come down, you’re languid, but renewed, wanting more. Both of your eyes are blown, heady with lust, and Eddie brings your mouth back to his, unable to stay away. 

Cradling the back of your head, he licks into your mouth and you angle your head to kiss him deeper, hungry for more as you mewl into his mouth, scrambling against the wall. You tug at his t-shirt, pull him closer by his belt loops, and he moans at your show of control. 

Sinking to your knees, you keep your eyes up and on Eddie as you watch him register your movement, his brows furrowing with exertion. He plucks his blood-soaked t-shirt off his body, drops of crimson staining his abdomen and his hands now. 

You look up at him with wide eyes. He’s intimidating from this angle, tall and broad, but still lithe; ink and blood covering his pale chest and arms. You trace the scratches on his lower abdomen, shivers erupting on your skin at the realisation of how he really got them.

You kiss the still-red marks, tonguing over his v-line and lower abdomen, bluntly scratching at the smattering of hair that leads below his jeans. 

He cups your chin tenderly, leaving behind blood. “Tommy begged for his life. Begged me not to kill him, but I did anyway. Made him bleed out right by the pool while Carol watched. For what he did to you.” 

You should hate this. You should get off your knees and leave. But you can’t. Not when you’re one orgasm deep and you’re wet between the legs. Not when you’re about to worship this man. 

You kiss his hand, then his stomach, leaving a trail of wet kisses over his abs, tracing the tip of your tongue over the red scratches. You move over, scratching your nails down his stomach to mirror the other side, leaving angry red marks. 

Why should Carol be the only one to get to mark him? 

He hisses through his teeth, hands hovering over your head hesitantly as you lick over the fresh marks with more kisses. “What? You jealous?” He laughs.

You answer him with another swipe at his v-line, red claw marks imprinting on his skin. The tent in his pants begs to be touched, and when you rub over his hard cock through his jeans, his thighs tremble. 

“Can I suck your cock, Eddie?” You ask innocently. “Please?” 

“Jesus fuckin—“ He grits out, bracing against the wall in front of him. “Go ahead, baby. Take my cock out, lemme feel your mouth.” 

You bite back a smile at his eagerness as you undo his belt, shakily pulling down his jeans and boxers together to free his cock. You swallow, your skin heating at the sight of his cock; average length but the girth takes you off guard, his tip red and leaking pre cum. 

He looks at you knowingly, like he knows he’s going to destroy you when the time comes, but until then, he’s going to bide his time with your mouth. He groans breathily when you stroke the length of him, using both hands to twist and pull, goosebumps erupting on his skin. 

“Shit, shit, shit. That’s it. Squeeze a little tighter there—ah—fuck. Oh, that’s it, baby.” 

You sweetly suck on his tip, licking up his pre cum. Eddie’s abs twitch when your tongue swipes over the vein on the underside of his cock, and you make a mental note to tease him with that. His hips jerk forward on instinct, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth, his hands hovering over your head.

“Like that, Eddie? Am I doing a good job?” You ask, kissing his tip. 

“Yeah, baby. Such a good job like I knew you would. Need a little more.” 

You work way down the shaft, laying wet, open mouthed kisses on his heavy cock, languidly slapping his tip against your tongue. Eddie’s chest flushes with exertion. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, his expression darkening when you take his hands and direct them to your head, silently asking him to take control. 

“Show me what you want, Ed. Do it exactly how you wanna.” You murmur letting his cock slap your tongue. 

You stay like that; mouth wide and tongue out for him to take the lead. A splitting grin takes over his face as he nods, gently gathering your hair on top of your head. 

“My best girl.” He whispers.

He thrusts into your mouth slowly at first, tentatively testing the waters, but as your warm, wet mouth invites him in for more, his thrusts get deeper and more aggressive. Tears prick your eyes as his thick cock reaches the back of your throat with each rough thrust, his hands pulling your head forward. 

“Fucking Christ, your mouth. So pretty with your lips stretched out around my cock, on your knees for me.” 

You nod as he punctuates his sentence with a harsh thrust that makes you gag around him, and you feel him twitch in your mouth, spit and precum messily trailing down your chin, covering his balls and thighs in a slick sheen. 

He wheezes, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yeah… you’re my filthy little girl, aren’t you? Love taking my cock any way I’ll give it to you, huh?” He lightly slaps your cheek, feels the vibration against his cock and throws his head back in pleasure, his hair a halo around his head. 

“So pretty, so fucking pretty—my angel. My pretty little angel. A little wider—shit—just like that.” Eddie whines incoherently when you reach up and massage his balls, slick with your saliva while he holds you in place and fucks your mouth. “Thank you, baby—fuck. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

Tears stream down your face, but you’re drunk on the taste of him, your pussy throbbing with his words and needy voice. You’re galvanised knowing that on your knees, you’re capable of reducing a man as powerful and terrifying as Eddie to this. 

A whining, whimpering, mess. 

He withdraws from your mouth with a drawn out groan, his cock twitching in front of your face. You glance up at him, a flush spreading from the centre of his chest to his neck, his ears and cheeks bright red, lips swollen from biting them. 

“C’mere.” He murmurs, dragging you up by your throat—not even with enough force to reduce your airflow—but as a possessive gesture, a means of control. 

He disregards the mess on your face and kisses you in a desperate clash of teeth and tongues and heavy breaths, his cock pressing against your tummy. He swallows your moans and whimpers with a light grip on your throat as he takes the breath from your lungs. 

  “Let's get you off your feet, what do you say?” He rasps. 

You nod, hooking your arms around his neck as he sweeps you off your feet, dark gaze burning yours. He throws you on his creaky mattress, leaving you to crawl upward as he stalks towards you like you’re his prey. 

Shoving your knees apart, he strokes your calves, laying gentle kisses on your now sore knees. “You trust me?” 

You take a beat, making sure to run the scenarios through in your head. “Yes.”

He reaches for a knife from his bedside table, and your skin turns red hot, equal parts desire and terror mixing like a cocktail under your skin. 

“Eyes on me, okay? Just relax.” He coos, kissing your forehead. “Not gonna hurt you.” 

He settles between your legs, and despite you being the one fully clothed out of the two of you, you feel vulnerable but safely kept. He scrapes the blunt edge of the knife gently down your neck, circling your pulse point. It scratches against your collarbone as he continues its descent down in your skin. 

You close your eyes as he hooks it around the neckline of your dress, and you feel him stall, remember his words.

Eyes on me. 

“Good girl.” He breathes when you force yourself to look at him. 

With a sharp tug of the knife, he cuts a jagged line down the centre of your dress, starting at your neckline and ending just above your belly button. You startle at the sudden movement and jump slightly but a hand on your hip holds you down. Slowly, he takes the two halves of the dress and rips with his bare hands all the way down until it falls open at your sides. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re perfect.” Eddie rasps, trailing the knife back upwards. 

“Don’t tease, Eddie.” You whine, shivering at the cold. 

“Patience, my flower. I like to draw things out.”  

You stiffen, the reminder of his extra curricular activities reminding you of who he is. He dips down and places a sweet kiss on your lips to absolve you of your worries, then with a tattooed hand, drags the knife between your breasts, then to the left. The sheets in your hands are the only traction you have as he circles your nipple with the knife, flicking the bud with the metal. 

“One wrong move…” he reminds you. “One wrong move, and this could end terribly for you, couldn���t it?” 

You whimper, nodding. 

“Good thing you trust me. Better thing that I love you.”

He trails it down your stomach, watching the goosebumps appear on your skin as he travels south, the muscles under your skin jumping at the touch. The cold metal reaches your panties, scraping over your covered mound, and despite the imminent danger, you feel yourself dripping for him. 

“You’re doing really good, baby. Proud of you.” 

He goes further still, careful to always use the blunt edge of the knife, but with the weapon out of sight, you’re forced to hyper focus on the sensation, figure out which part is where. You cry out when the cold metal bumps against your puffy clit through your panties, your hips bucking. 

Eddie laughs throatily, a wide grin on his face. “Oh, was that good? You liked that, didn’t you? My depraved little angel.” 

“Yes, Eddie. Please, I need more.” 

“That’s right, you do. Well done.” 

You feel tension against the waistband of your panties before it snaps, your panties cut off at the legs. Eddie pulls you up roughly, dragging your panties off you and leaving you fully exposed and open to him. Gathering them in his hand, he brings them to his face, inhales deeply as his eyes roll back into his head. 

”Fucked my hand over n’ over again with the panties I took from you. Wrapped around my cock pretending it was you, whispered your name when I came. You know that?” 

His words make you squirm and he laughs knowingly. Gripping your chin gently, he tells you to open up so he can slip your panties into your mouth. The salty sweet taste of you floods your mouth, your slick coating your tongue and the cotton. 

“You keep nice and quiet for me, I swear I’ll make it worth your while, baby. Can you be good for me?” 

He’s in control and he knows it and it makes you writhe in pleasure. You nod eagerly, pussy fluttering at the prospect of what he has planned for you. 

He slaps your cheek lightly again. “Good girl. Nice and quiet, yeah?” 

He yanks you to the edge of the bed by your ankles and brings your legs to wrap around his waist, turning you as he lays on his back, moving up the bed. 

“C’mon, baby. Come sit on my face, gimme that pretty pussy.” 

You hesitate, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but he takes your hands in his, pulls you forward until you're straddling his waist. “C’mon. Let me taste you, baby. Please?” He coos.

Hooking two arms around you, he moves you up until you’re hovering above his face, the change in dynamic making your insides clench. 

“Please, baby. Just wanna taste you. Please? Let me kiss that pretty pussy?” He whines, tugging on his cock. 

You tentatively lower yourself onto his face, the only thing visible to you now, his upper face. He latches onto your pussy immediately, sucks your clit between his plump lips and your hips buck, trying to put some distance between you and the source of your pleasure. He moans loudly into your pussy, thick tongue and full mouth messily kissing your cunt, strong jaw anchoring you.  

“Such a sweet fucking pussy, you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me… could get drunk on the taste of you, so fucking wet, dripping down my face—my God.” He whines, hooking his arms around your legs to keep you flush to him.

Your legs tremble around his face—his face—blissed out and so full of concentration. You lean down and push the hair off his forehead, and he moans in pleasure, sucking your clit harder as you pull slightly on his scalp. 

“That’s it, baby. Grind on my face, use my tongue. Make yourself cum for me, baby. Grind on me.” 

Your heart beats erratically as you slowly work your hips in circles on Eddie’s face, moans and whimpers muffled by the panties in your mouth. His hands reach up to squeeze your tits, pinching your nipples almost painfully and pleasure sparks at the base of your spine. 

“C’mon, pretty girl. Make me proud. Cum for me.” He encourages, flicking your clit with his tongue. The sound of Eddie’s mouth and your wet pussy fill the room as you chase your release, melting into him while pleasure washes over you in waves. 

You cum with a silent scream, head thrown back and focus on the feeling of Eddie’s hands on your tits and mouth lapping at you. You come crashing down, electricity crackling at the base of your spine as you pull on Eddie’s hair. 

You fall onto your hands with blood thrumming in every single nerve ending, your hair sticking to your neck with exertion. Eddie lays a messy kiss on your clit before lifting you off him and gathers you in his arms. 

He checks your face for signs of concern, but you’re utterly blissed out. Unpicking the panties from your mouth, he wipes the saliva from your chin to kiss you. You’re boneless in his arms, trusting him to hold you up, sweaty body flush against his as his mouth moves over yours. He consumes your being, wanting you from the inside out, your entire body vibrating with need, more so when you feel his cock jump between your legs. 

“You’re so hard, Eddie. So thick.” 

He swears under his breath as you tug at his cock, heavy and warm in your hand. He grips your throat, a smile making its way onto your lips as he regards you with a knowing look. 

A look that he knows you’re his. That you’re just as twisted as he is. 

He spins you around, your back flush to his tattooed chest and grips your chin to make you look at yourself in the mirror in front of you. You stroke him languidly, feeling his sticky precum coat the tips of your fingers while his fingers spread your pussy lips. 

“Look at yourself.” He urges, kissing your cheek. “Look at how wrecked you are, spread out and naked for me. Look at how good we look together, my flower. Look.” 

The sight in front of you makes your knees buckle. Next to Eddie’s guitar, is your reflection, blissed out with your hair matted to your face, legs spread wide while Eddie’s ringed fingers rub your clit. Behind you, Eddie watches the reflection, his tattooed chest and abdomen littered with scratches and bruises. 

Both of you are stained with blood, handprints marking your throat, your hips, your tits, actual remnants of a crime on your bodies, mixing with sex. 

“Keep your eyes on that mirror, baby. Whatever you do, do not take your eyes off that mirror. You got that?” 

“Yeah, Eddie. Anything you want.” 

He lays a kiss under your ear to soothe the sting of two thick fingers plunging into your pussy, your head lolling back. The slick coating your thighs and pussy makes it easy for him to slide in, the sting soothed by the pleasure of him hooking his fingers inside you. 

“Ohh, I know you like that, don’t you, my girl? That feels good inside my pretty baby’s pussy, huh? You wanna close your eyes but you can’t, can you?” He coos mockingly, lightly slapping your cheek. “No, you can’t. Because you said you’d do anything I want. So you’re gonna stay right here…and I’m gonna finger this pretty little cunt to get you ready for my cock.” 

“Eddie…” you whine, palming his cock. “That feels so good, your fingers… so thick.” 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

He withdraws his fingers and plunges them deep inside you with each word, drawing out your pleasure like a length of elastic; tension building and building precariously close to a snap. The heel of his palm rubs against your clit as his pace increases, a furious work of his wrist leaving you hanging onto his arm for dear life. 

“Cum, baby. Come on, gimme another one, I know you can do it. Do it for me, baby, let me feel you squeeze my fingers.” 

“Gonna cum, Eddie…so close.” You whimper. 

You watch his biceps flex and his shiny, slick covered fingers as you come undone. You’re decidedly full, but not full enough, fluttering around his fingers wildly as he talks you through your release. Your eyes go hazy with ecstasy as you fight to keep them open, to watch his onslaught like you promised you would. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl. Pretty eyes on me, yeah? Just breathe baby, you’re doing so good. So fucking good squeezing me like that. So pretty.” 

When your heartbeat comes down, he kisses your cheek, holding his ring and middle fingers up to the light, your slick stretching between his fingers. 

He brings them to your mouth. “Suck.” He says simply, gasping when your tongue presses against his fingers to lick the taste of yourself off him. 

“Sweet?” He asks. 

You nod around his fingers. 

“Well done, baby. We’re not finished yet, though.” 

With a large hand on your upper back, he pushes you down into his pillows, the smell of him surrounding you like a haze. His sheets are rumpled, but a welcome reprieve, they smell like him and in a way, it’s like laying on him. 

Eddie’s large hands angle your hips upwards just slightly, the rest of you still face down on the mattress. You feel the blunt head of his cock slide up and down your slit, your sloppy cunt making him slip. 

A sharp crack lands on your ass, making you jump, the pain soothed by a cool relief as Eddie massages the skin, pulling at it posessively. He squeezes you hard enough to leave bruises but it only spurs you on, the sick thought of Eddie possessing you, marking you—owning you—makes you drip onto his sheets. 

“Eyes on me, remember?” He rasps from the exertion of controlling himself. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.” 

He braces himself over you with toned arms, his legs bracketing yours as he pushes the fat head of his cock inside you, agonisingly slow. His broad chest flushes a deep crimson. 

You feel him slide right back out of you, and try again, his lips between his teeth. “God fuckin’ damn it, you’re so tight, pushing me right back out.” He pushes in again, and you watch him mesmerised. “Let me in, angel, c’mon. Let me inside you, gimme that sweet cunt. C’mon.” He grunts. 

Every inch stretches you out, punching the air from between your lungs. You’re completely immobilised and at Eddie's mercy, trembling as he sheathes himself inside you. 

You gasp when he buries himself to the hilt, impossibly full and dizzy with pleasure. “Oh my God, Eddie, that’s deep. You’re so fucking deep inside me—so fucking big.” You sob, fluttering around his cock. 

He drops his entire body weight on you, pushing you further into the mattress, deliciously constricting your airflow. He pulls your arms out in front of you and interlocks his fingers with yours. 

You feel his chest vibrate when he speaks, a deep, quiet rumble that kisses the shell of your ear. “Yeah? That deep enough for my baby’s pussy, hm? Stretch you nice and good?”

You watch the carnal expression on his face as he slowly starts to grind into you, the angle bumping that spot deep inside you that makes your clit jump. You’re sensitive and pliant under him but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in close and snapping his hips, muttering filthy words into your ear. 

He pushes a thumb into your mouth. “Such a warm, wet, perfect cunt. The things I did for this pussy, to make you mine—God.” He grits. “You make me fucking crazy you know that? This pussy makes me crazy.” 

Every inch of his body presses against yours, your skin moulding to his, sweat slicked and sticky, both of your thighs covered in your slick. 

“Love your cock, Eddie. Love how you fuck me. Please, Eddie. Want more, please.” You whine, pulling his hair above you. 

He builds his pace steadily, his hips snapping into your while he sets a brutal rhythm, pressing you further into the mattress. The hot friction of your nipples rubbing against his sheets and his cock set your skin on fire. 

You barely register Eddie angle your hips up all the way before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you up—flush against him. 

“That’s better. Look at you—fucking ruined on my cock, aren’t you? Who else can fuck you like this? Who else makes you this fucking pathetic and desperate?” 

“Nobody, Eddie. Nobody. Just you, only you fuck me like this.” You choke out, legs trembling. 

With an arm around your waist to keep you steady, he hooks the other around your neck, effectively putting you in a light headlock. You’re so close to your release, so dizzy with pleasure that you’re on the verge of passing out. Your head lolls against Eddie’s shoulder and your eyes roll back, your face a sight with fat tears rolling down your cheeks. 

The lack of airflow increases the pressure inside of your body, fire pooling low in your stomach, making you drip . 

“That’s it, that’s it, there you go, there you fucking go. You like it when I choke you don’t you, my filthy little girl. Gonna make you cream all over my cock, want it soaking my thighs and balls, baby. Give it to me.” 

You can barely form words, settling for a litany of, “Yes, yes, yes. Right there, Eddie, don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” 

“Not gonna stop. Not until you’re crying. Now c’mon, gimme another one, let me feel this pretty pussy squeeze my cock, c’mon. Make me proud, pretty girl, cum for me.” 

You hang on for dear life as he fucks you right into another orgasm, your legs trembling and pussy convulsing around him, but he doesn’t let up. Pounds you right through your orgasm, skin slapping against skin, finally letting go of your throat so you can breathe again. 

“Good girl, good girl, good fucking girl, that’s it. There you go, just breathe—you got it. Just feel it, you got it, c’mon, keep going, keep going.”

White spots your vision as you ride out your orgasm and Eddie finally allows you to fall forward, draping his body over yours immediately. You pull at his hair to bring him closer, slowly grinding yourself against his cock as you come down, a panting, sweaty mess, drowning in bliss. 

You angle your head to kiss him lazily, his lips leaving your mouth tingling, tongue licking into your mouth. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re really fucking intense, Ed?” You tease against his lips. 

“Why? You hear somethin’?” He chuckles, kissing you deeply. 

He pulls out of you, tugging at his slick cock as he turns you over onto your back. You’re both dishevelled, and desperate, chasing a higher and higher release. 

You spread your legs and invite him to use your puffy, sensitive pussy, your thighs and hips covered in juices. He slides in easier this time, grinding all the way into the hilt so his pelvis bumps your clit, while his pick chain dangles in your face. 

You whine, gripping the sheets for an anchor as he starts to drive into you with a rough snap of his hips. 

“Eddie…” you whine. “Feel so good, so deep.” You whimper. 

“Yeah?” He grins, dimple splitting his cheek. He presses his hand into your stomach, withdrawing his cock almost all the way out and slamming back inside again. “Right here? You feel me there? Nice and deep inside this pretty angel cunt, made for me to fuck, isn’t it?” 

“Just for you, Eddie. Just for you.” You chant. 

Your slick smears everywhere, coating Eddie’s lower stomach and happy trail, his pelvis and balls, everything a filthy, sticky mess and you’re in heaven. 

You fist your hands into the pillow next to you, spot a flash of black and white. Pulling on the material, you reveal another mask, and your heart swoops nervously, your body stiffening. 

“You’re okay, baby. Nothin’ to be scared of—here.” He reassures you, slipping the hood on. It takes your breath away, having to reconcile Eddie’s body with the mask, but when he grinds his cock deep inside you, you snap back. “Just me. Just Eddie.” 

You reach for his shoulders and spread your legs to invite him closer, wanting to feel more of him. Eddie smiles behind the mask, knows the reaction you have to it—to him—to the implications. He hisses at the feel of your fingernails digging into his back, cock twitching at your possessiveness.

“You like that don’t you, baby? I know you like seeing me with the mask on, I can feel you fucking creaming on my cock. Makes you horny doesn’t it, knowing I killed for you? You’re twisted. Filthy.” 

You whine for him incoherently, feeling the muscles in his back flex and contract as he fucks you deep and fast, his creaky bed matching his rhythm. The mask cuts off Eddie’s breathing, makes it hard to inhale properly but finally having you under him, writhing and moaning his name the way he’s dreamed of makes him whimper. 

“Wanna see you, Eddie. Please. Wanna see your face.” You cry, reaching for his mask. 

He dodges your hands, pins them above your head with his stronger ones. “Tell me you’re mine first.” He grunts. “Tell me you’re fucking mine.”

“I’m yours, Eddie. I’m fucking yours, I’m all yours.” You offer freely, squeezing his hands. 

He slides the hood off, forehead shiny with sweat, bangs matted to his face as he drops his entire body weight on you, pinning your hands again. 

“That’s right. Mine to touch. Mine to taste. Mine to fuck. All mine.”

You’re dizzy with pleasure, taking whatever he gives you, your pussy squelching with each brutal pass of Eddie’s thick cock. “All yours, Eddie.”

“Tell me I’m yours.” He pants needily, using his body to drive you forward. 

“You’re mine, Eddie.” You sob, raking your nails violently down his back to prove it. “You’re mine. You’re mine, Eddie.” 

His cock jumps inside you, both of you closer to your release. “That’s right. You could try to forget any of this happened. But we both know, baby. You love this too much.” 

“God—Eddie. Please. Please, please…”

“Please what? You losin’ your words, now? So drunk on my cock filling you up, you can’t think straight?” He slaps your pussy lightly, clit puffy and sensitive. 

He grips your throat, making your head fall back and tongue loll out of your mouth uselessly. In a moment of pure possession, he lets a trail of his saliva drip into your mouth, kisses you deeply and thoroughly until you’re seeing stars and on the precipice. 

“Good thing I can think for the both of us, huh? Dunno what you’d do without me, my dumb little angel. Need me to protect you, don’t you? I know, baby, I know. I can give you what you need, don’t worry.” 

You’re reduced to blissful silence as Eddie bridges the gap between you and your release, his own, right on the edge as well. 

“Gonna come, Eddie. So close, please, please, make me cum. I love it, I love you. I love you. I love you—Eddie, fuck.” You sob, hanging onto his back, crescent shaped welts marking his skin. 

“Gonna make you mine, baby. Gonna make all this worth it. All of it, just a little more, yeah?” He pants, rhythm turning sloppy. 

“Yeah. Make me yours, Eddie. Please. Wanna be yours.” 

He drops his entire body weight against you, your stomachs pressing together as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Gonna cum inside this pretty pussy, baby. Make you mine forever, yeah?” 

You nod, biting down on Eddie’s shoulder as you cum, locking your legs around his waist to pull him in deeper. You convulse around his cock, pulling him impossibly close. Eddie moans into your neck as he reaches his release, teeth sinking into the skin below your ear as he cums deep inside you, his balls nestled against your ass.  

He thrusts shallowly inside you, shuddering as you both come down, sweating and entirely ruined. Brushing the sweaty hair off your face, he kisses you deeply, pulling away with dopey eyes. 

“Proud of you, baby. You did really good. Thank you.” 

Your eyes grow heavy, and you’re content to lean on him on the way to the cramped bathroom, have him wash the blood off both of your bodies. You register it against the white porcelain of the bathtub as it circles the drain. 

It takes a few weeks and slowly but surely, Hawkins returns back to normal. A week-long procession of back-to-back funerals are grim, your guilty conscience making you sick, but the sicker part of you wonders what else you could have Eddie do. 

Two weeks after Andy Clayton’s funeral, you sit in the backseat of Steve’s BMW and watch the houses go by. You narrow your eyes, tapping Eddie on the shoulder once the white house comes into view.

“That’s the house, Eddie.” 

“You sure, Sweetheart?” He asks, squeezing your hand. 

“Positive. Jenny told me she saw it happen, Father Elijah with that little boy.” 

“Alright. You heard her, Harrington. Let’s go.” He inhales sharply, getting out of the car. 

You join them outside, tugging on Eddie’s hands, stopping him as he goes to put his mask on. “You’ll be careful, won’t you, baby?” 

“Always am.” He smiles, bending down to kiss you.

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