Tumgik
#monster hunters pack
steddilly · 8 months
Text
When Wayne moved to Hawkins fifteen years ago to case the town, he hadn’t expected to end up staying. What kind of hunter purposefully cocked up an assignment? A bad one apparently, but he was fine with that. He’d been sent to the small town in rural Indiana after a strange rise in creature sightings, that sort of thing didn’t take much time getting back to the kind of hunters led by his younger brother, Al.
He quickly found out that Hawkins was acting as some sort of beacon to supernatural beings, attracting them to seek out and settle down in the town surrounded by thick wooded areas. Weres of every kind. Vamps of every kind. Witches, shapeshifters, banshees, and just about every other kind of creature you could think of.
What started out as a task to infiltrate the town to get a better idea of the severity of the infestation quickly turned into something more, because then he got to know the residents as more than just what they were and began seeing them as neighbours and friends. They trusted him and welcomed him into their communities, even the supernaturals grew to trust him and he even watched some of them grow up. He couldn’t hurt these people, they weren’t doing anything wrong.
Wayne never heard much from his younger brother or the other hunters, he occasionally sent Al letters downplaying what was actually going on in Hawkins, it was a low level threat that almost wasn’t worth dealing with. He should have known better, almost two decades of peace sounded like long overdue trouble for a semi-retired hunter, and word travelled fast to him that there were two men asking about him. He knew his brother would eventually show up to track him down, but he never expected his nephew to be dragged out with him.
Albert Munson was a ruthless hunter, more of a shoot first and ask questions later kind of guy. Eddie though... The boy he’d left behind was more sort hearted than his old man, he wouldn’t want to hurt innocent people. Wayne would learn that Eddie didn’t agree with the majority of what his father believed, and refused to be brainwashed with his ideologies towards supernatural beings.
The real trouble begins when Al (unbeknownst to Wayne) set up a few traps in the woods and actually ends up catching a Werecub, who lets out the most heartbreaking cries Wayne has ever heard - but he knew what kind of cry that was, it was a cry for help and not just of fear.
“You’ve been slacking, Wayne. Barely a few hours here and we’ve already caught us a baby monster.” Al was so pleased with himself, standing proudly below the strung up cub with his arms crossed. It made Wayne sick to think that he had once been exactly the same as his brother, conflicted at the time or not, he had participated in the same things.
“Dad, there’s no us. I don't want anything to do with this. You’re hurting him, he’s probably just a kid.” Eddie denied, keeping himself well back from the situation, wanting no part in it.
It wasn’t long before the trio heard an answering howl to the cries, high and haunting and designed to travel - it sounded like a very pissed off mama, and suddenly they felt very unprepared for this expedition. They were expecting a Werewolf (the most common type of Were) or a Werebear (because of the cub), but what came crashing through the undergrowth was a monstrous coyote-looking creature, and she was livid. Her fur was shiny and well maintained, dark rusty shades of brown mottled with grey and blonde streaks. She chased the three of them through the woods until they were far enough away for the Werecoyote to double back and rescue her pup.
“Wooah boy, that was a close one!” Al chuckled after they stopped running to catch their breaths, as if they’d just been out for a jog in the woods and not chased by something that could have easily caught up with them.
The worst part was that Wayne definitely thought he recognised the Werecoyote, and if he recognised the Were then he definitely recognised him. Steve Harrington, resident Were and local babysitter to some of the younger supernatural beings in Hawkins, which meant the cub was most likely one of the kids he took care of and considered his pack. He absolutely knew who Wayne was, and now he knew what Wayne was.
“Relax, Wayne, it was just a ‘yote.” Al clapped him on the shoulder, something he bet his brother thought would be assuring and friendly, but it absolutely wasn’t. “Could’ve been worse. Would’a been a whole other story if we’d attracted a wolf.” - Wayne didn’t think so, but he was the one who was going to be suffering the consequences. - “C’mon, take your brother and nephew home for some grub, all that running’s worked up an appetite.”
73 notes · View notes
nitrozem · 29 days
Text
I made two attempts to play today and both times my game crashed…
turns out if you hover over a broom in your spellcasters inventory the game may crash, and I was indeed playing Sid and managing his inventory both times…great!
13 notes · View notes
liliallowed · 1 month
Text
hunter au sketches I made during class
Tumblr media
9 notes · View notes
Text
Voice lines from the Kagami voicepack that speak to me: (For ref: the English version is voiced by Arin Hansen)
"Whatever's in here- it's going in my mouth" [looting]
"LET'S GO FOR WALKIES" [mounting a monster]
"ooOOOOoohh JUNK" [looting]
"I'M THE HUNTING BOY! I'M THE ONE WHO WINS!" [finishing hunt]
"There's a good weapon~" [sharpening]
"Ugh, I gotta sharpen this thing AGAIN?!" [sharpening]
"Aw, look, it thinks it can escaaape" [monster fleeing]
"OoohhNONONONONO" [impeding monster to the face]
"I am NOT willing to put up with this today" [after fainting]
"aaand oF COURSE" [dropping a transport item]
16 notes · View notes
In honor of Halloween here's a prompt for discussion.
A disgruntled magic user is upset that magic users are being upstaged by all the superpowered heroes running around the DC universe. This person casts a spell to turn every person with powers into a monster for revenge. Hopefully, they reason, the public will fear those with powers after this and magic users will be the top of the food chain again.
Anyone with magic is unaffected (even those vaguely magic related like Beast Boy and Cassie) and anyone without powers is unaffected. The magic users and the non powered heroes would have to team up to break the curse and non lethally take down all of their monster friends before they hurt anyone.
Anyone with the same power sets becomes the same type of monster. (ie all the kryptonians would be the same species of monster ect) They would have to take on the morality of the creature they turn into and morality is based on mythological precedent. So any mermaids will likely try to drown people and you'll want to avoid pissing off the fae.
They also must take on the mental capacities of that monster. So if, per say, Plastic Man was turned into a werewolf he wouldn't just be a fluffy Plastic Man. No, he'd be a full blown hunting, howling, raging werewolf. (I will say that some monsters are more 'human' than others and in some cases the hero will be basically the same mentally speaking)
So who would be what and why?
62 notes · View notes
galaghiel · 2 days
Note
play monster hunter stories, they can keep all the monsters their little heart wants. Me and my team of chickens can kill God
I WANT TO BUT ITS NOT ON SALE RN. i want to keep the creatures too 😭😭😭
2 notes · View notes
okurrroye · 1 year
Text
The only correct response from Clara finding out Jonah was hunting nazis should’ve been
“WITHOUT ME?!”
19 notes · View notes
Text
Do I need to say why I'm glad they casted Kishou as Utsushi?
I'm deadass, that clip made me seriously go "Yep, that's why they fucking casted him for that idiot (affectionately)"
35 notes · View notes
clawedthorns · 1 year
Text
i’m so on the fence about palisman-related things regarding hunter.. on one hand i don’t want him to get a new one right away (maybe after a timeskip) but i also don’t want him to suddenly acquire normal magic after absorbing flapjack? if he were to have any abilities i think harpy mode would be awesome but do palisman souls function similarly to literal wild animals? eda’s owl beast was like.. an actual beast. not carved from a tree. does the same logic apply here… i do not know
7 notes · View notes
spinosauridae · 1 year
Text
One thing I will never get tired of is when people compare Tyrannosaurus to wolves and lions. Because at the end of the day they weren't these massive murder machines built for killing and killing alone, they were animals. Survival of the fittest, and fittest doesn't refer to strength or being the most perfect. It refers to being fit for your environment and working with your constraints.
We're missing so many of those day to day behaviors that get written off as "boring". And all I can really think about are those oh so important things.
A rex patrolling the edge of the group's territory, drinking water beside other theropods in very different niches, an old bull lying down for a final nap in the dying sulight, a bunch of subadults fucking with a herbivore far out of their league...
I fucking love the realistic interactions that we don't really see in mockumentaries or even many real documentaries.
6 notes · View notes
bigangrytrev · 2 years
Text
Shriekers vs Raptors - Who would Win?
Shriekers vs Raptors – Who would Win?
Jurassic Park and Tremors – two film franchises that have far more in common than one might think. Yes the differences between the two franchises are huge; budgets, popularity, settings etc.  But when it comes down to it both movie series, both franchises having 7 movies to their name thus far, are at their core about humans genetically messing with creatures from the dawn of time, before those…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
diejager · 2 months
Note
hello!!!!! how would the monster group handle a mountain lion hybrid, like, they’re notoriously difficult to handle and are known to lash out, so they were just kinda thrown to Price to handle
Lesson Cw: hybrid, fighting, scruffing, tell me if I missed any.
They were at an impasse, unable to find you when you didn’t want to be found, stalking the halls in complete silence and scaring people and hissing at people who got to close to you —even them at some point. You were a brat, a proper brat that eventually got to Price as you did with the others. He approached Alejandro and Horangi about your standoffish behaviour: protective, self-isolating and aggressive, but he was assured that it was normal, yours were only worsened by monster and hybrid treatments, the horrible and ignorant ways they treated you that made your instincts lash out.
Fortunately, Price learned that you could be taught to accept them, to be indoctrinated into their pack without rejecting your instincts. He had both felines drag you to the sparring ring after everyone left, hearing you hiss and lash out in pure anxiety and stress until they wrangled you into the ring and surrounded you, walking around you like two cats ready to pounce on their prey. Price had spoken to them to know if this kind of harsh lesson would work, it did on Horangi, made him open up after a rough fight and loosen up after a while. That was all he needed to hear to hold a session with you (he spoke to the others before, wanting to hear their opinions before he moved on with the plan).
”Don’t hold back,” Alejandro smiled, spotted fur growing on his forearms and tail swaying behind him.
“Or what?” You hissed, glaring at the men moving around your prone figure and fists clenched to your side.
“Or I eat you, kitty,” Horangi grinned, a goading gleam in his bright, amber eyes, his scars stretching to widen his smirk and teeth growing to seem more menacing.
Price watched you wait it out, letting your instincts drive you forward when Horangi lashed out first, jumping at you while Alejandro circled both of you, quietly huffing and rumbling when you pushed Horangi back. You fought with vigour and anger, snapping your teeth at the Haetae’s nose and claw swiping at him when you manage to struggle out of his tackle. Horangi and Alejandro switched places on occasion, to keep you from getting used to one person and to tire you out, to wear down your pent up anger and anxiety. 
It went on for almost an hour until Horangi had you pinned to the ground, straddling your hips with his thick thighs and gripping your nape, scruffing you into submission and calmness. You were all panting, breathing loudly and shoulders heaving, foreheads dripping sweat and hearts throbbing in your ears, a loud pulse beating a mile per second. You hissed and cussed, always the fiery spirit you were with them without holding back, gentle and caring when healing, but dangerous and bloodthirsty when cornered. When Alejandro nodded at Price, letting him know that it was safe for him to move in, he strode across the room, swinging his legs over the cables and kneeling beside you three.
“Are you ready to listen, Hunter?” He growled, tone low and deep with power, smoke curling on the corners of his lips like a burning fire, the warm, kindling flames of a cigar that smelled earthy and strong. It stung your nose as it did the others, but in the gentlest way possible. 
“Yes, sir,” you grumbled, blinking tiredly at him, shoulders slumped downward, head lowered and eyes cast down, “ ‘m tired.”
“Good, let’s get you cleaned and rested, yeah? We’ll continue this tomorrow.”
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts
710 notes · View notes
anemoiashifts · 18 days
Text
100 places to shift to.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
♡ 100 places to shift to from tv & movie (some of these you could consider books too). organized into categories to the best of my ability.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
fantasy.
✦ harry potter.
✦ merlin.
✦ his dark materials.
✦ narnia.
✦ good omens.
✦ percy jackson.
apocalyptic.
✦ hunger games.
✦ divergent.
✦ the walking dead.
supernatural.
✦ sabrina the teenage witch.
✦ the chilling adventures of sabrina.
✦ stranger things.
✦ supernatural.
✦ lucifer.
✦ ghostbusters.
✦ buffy the vampire slayer.
✦ angel the series.
✦ teen wolf.
✦ wolf pack.
sci-fy.
✦ doctor who.
✦ star wars.
✦ star trek.
✦ roswell.
✦ avatar.
cartoon.
✦ barbie life in the dream house.
✦ gravity falls.
✦ amphibia.
✦ the owl house.
✦ hazbin hotel.
✦ monster high.
✦ ever after high.
✦ miraculous ladybug.
✦ phineas & ferb.
✦ rick & morty.
✦ my little pony.
✦ care bears.
✦ strawberry shortcake.
✦ adventure time.
✦ star vs the forces of evil.
✦ total drama island.
✦ scooby doo.
✦ bojack horseman.
✦ fairly odd parents.
anime.
✦ hunter x hunter.
✦ sailor moon.
✦ the legend of kora.
✦ saiki k.
✦ naruto.
✦ demon slayer.
✦ cowboy beebop.
✦ little witch academia.
✦ my hero academia.
✦ pokemon.
✦ death note.
crime / mystery.
✦ bones.
✦ criminal minds.
✦ only murders in the building.
✦ sherlock.
thriller / horror.
✦ american horror story.
✦ scream.
✦ scream queens.
✦ locke & key.
drama
✦ euphoria.
✦ shadow hunters.
✦ k12.
✦ the vampire diaries.
✦ the originals.
✦ twilight.
✦ never have i ever.
✦ h2o.
✦ wednesday.
✦ glee.
✦ gossip girl.
✦ pretty little liars.
✦ grey’s anatomy.
✦ skins.
✦ riverdale.
✦ once upon a time.
✦ emily in paris.
✦ victorious.
✦ the umbrella academy.
✦ mean girls.
✦ clueless.
✦ shameless.
✦ the guilded age.
✦ bridgeton.
✦ castle.
✦ law & order.
✦ my babysitters a vampire.
action
✦ maze runner.
✦ spiderverse.
✦ cobra kai.
✦ outer banks.
✦ jurassic park.
slice of life.
✦ gilmore girls.
✦ friends.
✦ that 70’s show.
✦ boy meets world.
✦ full house.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
♡ whew this took forever to format & find shows considering im not a big tv / movie person at all. hope this helped a few people find some new dr’s !! bye bye :)
478 notes · View notes
reliquice · 2 years
Text
♛ 𝔐𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔑𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ♛
Tumblr media
∿ This Is How I Live My Life' Under Different Men ┊ Shen Ping
Tumblr media
∿ The Finest Steel' Has To Endure The Hottest Fire ┊ Yi Tae-Woo
∿ A Soul Full Of Sunshine ┊ Prompto
Tumblr media
∿ Elegance Is Not Being Noticed' But Being Remembered ┊ Roy Lee
∿ Blade Generation Isn't Complete Without Lasersaber ┊ Seven
∿ Thought You Were Incapable Of Saying No More Than Five Words┊ Lee Suhyeok
∿ Wakey-Wakey' Tofu' Eggs' & Bacey ┊ Beast Boy
∿ I'm What They All Want' Yet I Want To Be All To One. ┊ Logan
Tumblr media
∿ He Payed For His Father's Sins ┊ Anthony Hwang
Tumblr media
∿ I Fight Only For My Father' As He Is All I Have ┊ Talon
∿ Memories Saturate My Heart' The Story Of You All Spill From My Eyes! ┊ Osiris
∿ I'm Forced To Be Intertwined With My Enemy ┊ Casper
∿ Once I Sold My Life To A Beautiful Man' Now I'm Cursed And Bounded To Him ┊ Dante
∿ Smooth… ┊ Ryan Erzahler
Tumblr media
∿ I Bite' You Bleed! You May Fight' But I Must Feed! ┊ Solar
Tumblr media
∿ (To Stop Sign) No' You Stop! ┊ Lynx
Tumblr media
∿ Does Your Hunter Have Good Balls Of Brass? ┊ Isaac
∿ Take That' You Mealy-Mouthed Bastards! ┊ Nick
∿ Suicide Means You've Killed The Most Important Existence Of All' Yourself! ┊ Monokuma
Tumblr media
∿ I Will Lead The Pack Someday' Till Then' Beware! ┊ Forest
Tumblr media
∿ I Wish I Could Go Back' But I Must Stay Here As The Monster In Me Is Strong ┊ Urban
0 notes
deanbrainrotwritings · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
— BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS
Tumblr media
SUMMARY : sharing a room with sam when dean has the sex drive that he has usually means he has to be quiet when he’s doing the dirty with his girl.
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : sam winchester
WARNINGS : smut, nsfw (18+), fluff, alcohol, sub!dean, exhibitionism tbh, ✨saliva✨
WORD COUNT : 2.9k
A/N : title from green day’s song. I believe in subby dean and I love him! so, here’s the first dean fic I wanna share. I really appreciate y’all :’) Xx
Tumblr media
Dean grunted softly as he moved his hand up and down his cock. He smirked beside him at his sleeping girlfriend, and then looked ahead at the silhouette of his hand beneath the sheets moving up and down, outlined by the street light shining through the thin curtains. The sound of the sheets ruffling was loud in the nighttime, almost muffling the sound of his cock, and he carefully shoved the sheets off himself while keeping Y/N blanketed.
He closed his eyes, bit his lip and started to picture Y/N sucking his dick. He pictured her awake comfortably naked between his legs with her hot mouth wrapped around him. It was more exciting knowing that she was sleeping next to him, that he was imagining her pleasuring him the way he knew she could if she were awake. He was so turned on, but he was mostly teasing himself, being quiet enough that Sam wouldn’t wake up, but loud enough so that Y/N would.
Sam had gotten drunk with Dean, but unlike Dean, he blacked out as soon as his overgrown body hit the bed. That meant nothing was waking Sam up anytime soon, not a monster, not an apocalypse, not even the way Dean panted trying to get himself off. He didn’t mind edging himself a bit longer, he was willing to wait as long as he had to before she woke up and gave him what he needed. And he needed her real bad, so he wasn’t gonna stop, but he wasn’t gonna let himself finish either.
After the hunt, a successful case of killing a pack of werewolves in the woods, Dean decided to take Y/N and Sam out for drinks. The thing was, when Dean got drunk, he became more clingy than usual and he would start acting cute. He remembered bits and pieces of what he did when he was drunk. From getting her into his lap while he talked to Sam and some random hunter in a green, leathery booth. To the way he clung to her the whole time, when he’d drunkenly gone and played pool with a bunch of idiot college students trying and successfully hustling them.
He remembered constantly kissing her cheek, holding her soft face in his hands to make out with her when he dragged her around the bar finding different things to do with himself. And he remembered flirting with her. He remembered that cute little smile on her face and the even more adorable blush that painted her cheeks when he gave her his famous smoulder.
He remembered that she’d stopped drinking after just one drink. She was taking care of him and Sam. She’d driven them back to the motel and she babied him into bed despite the fact that he was trying to seduce her. He blushed at the memory, the way he kissed her neck and groped her beautiful body, making it hard for her to take his clothes off so he could sleep comfortably.
He moaned softly at a particular twist around his cock, and he changed his fantasy, preferring to imagine all the dirty things Y/N would say to him as she fucked him. He could faintly remember how her walls felt around him, her sweaty body pressed against his, setting his skin on fire with her touch. Her name fell from his lips, spilled into the quiet room, and she shifted beside him at last. He whispered her name again and again, praying that she would wake up and make him cum herself.
He slowed the pace in which he jerked himself off when she nuzzled into his bicep, her soft lips still against his tense muscle. She mumbled something against his skin, but could only hear the sleep in her voice and was unable to decipher a word she said. He gazed down at her and squinted his eyes to make out her face, but he couldn’t see much as she was shadowed by his body. He only felt her hand move down his chest, warm and soft against his body. He gasped, squirmed when she brushed her fingertips against his tummy, and squeezed his eyes shut when she wrapped her small hand over his.
“You’re so loud,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
“Y/N,” he moaned, letting her fingers replace his. She stroked him lazily, felt her little smirk against his arm when he moved his hips up in search of more friction. “Please,” he whined quietly. He turned his whole body to face her so she changed her hand’s position, squeezing his cock torturously and rubbing her thumb over the leaking slit of his cockhead. “I can’t,” he gasped, pressing his forehead against hers.
She let go of his cock and pressed her lips firmly against his, “I’ve got you, baby,” she murmured against his mouth. His fingers dug into her waist, pulling her closer to him. “What do you want? Tell me, Dean,” she teased, moving her lips along his jaw and neck, thrilled to hear his heavy breaths.
“You,” he whispered, “I need you, need to be inside you right now,” he moaned. He pawed at her hips and started to tug her underwear down impatiently. She giggled, helped him get them off her, and laughed when he hung them over the lamp. He smiled softly at the sound and moved on top of her, settling between her opened legs before he leaned down to kiss her.
He slid his cock through her wet folds, felt her wiggle her hips, and gasp against his mouth when he pressed the head of his cock against her clit. “I thought you were too needy,” she whined playfully. He felt her pout against his lips and pulled away slightly attempting to make her face out in the darkness, only the yellow glow from outside illuminated her. He chuckled at her and grasped her hip, pinning her down to the mattress as he panted against her parted lips.
“You’re such a little tease,” he laughed softly, smirking at her when he sat back on his legs, lifting her legs onto his thighs.
He used the streetlight to guide his cock to her slick entrance, his plump lips parting with satisfaction at the sight of her glistening cunt stretching around his cockhead. He slid into her smoothly and he stared—utterly enchanted, as she took every inch of him until he was buried fully in her warmth.
“Like that?” He asked smugly and she rolled her eyes, her hands flexing on her thighs, squirming from how big he was. Dean smirked down at her when he noticed, swivelling his hips tortuously just to feel the clench of her walls around him. He collected saliva in his mouth and watched it drip down to her pussy, right on her folds.
He licked his lips to clear the lingering spit on his swollen lips and brought his thumb to her clit to smear his saliva over the sensitive nerve. He gently moved his hips against her, turned on at the sight of the black shirt she wore haphazardly scrunched around her waist from the angle he had her positioned in.
He leaned over her, placed his arm by her head, and dropped loving kisses along her jaw. Her heavy breaths mingled with his, the only sound bouncing off the cheap walls besides the gentle sound of the bedsprings. He used various methods to massage her clit until she was squirming beneath him again. Her walls continued to pulse around him, wet, warm, and driving him crazy. “I’m not gonna last,” he whispered shyly against her shoulder.
She pushed up against him gently with her hips, her hands held onto his triceps, so he moved back a little to check on her. “Everything okay?” He asked softly, distractedly slowing down the circles on her clit to study her flushed face.
When she nodded, he kissed her forehead, and started to pull out slightly to thrust back into her again, but he didn’t expect her to shove him back slightly, forcing his cock to slip out of her all the way.
He looked at her with confusion, “wha-“
He caught himself with his arms behind him, stared at her as his shirt she wore slipped down and covered her naked body again. She climbed onto his lap again, “you’re so pretty,” she murmured. Holding his chin with her fingers, she swiped her thumb across his bottom lip and his breath hitched. His cheeks started to warm up at the tingling that followed her finger along his lip and he whined again. “Shh, stop being so loud,” she told him quietly, and leaned forward to silence him with a heated kiss.
He slid his hands between her legs, shoving two fingers into her without a care, pumping them in and out, moaning into her mouth at the squelch his fingers and her cunt made around him. She sucked on his bottom lip and he groaned, grinding his palm against her clit and adding a third finger, feeling like he could cum just from the wetness that started to cover his knuckles and wrist.
“I love it when you get needy,” she panted, moving his hand away by grabbing his wrist. She lifted his wet fingers to her lips and licked her arousal off them, keeping her eyes on his as his lips parted in surprise. “Are you gonna cum?” She teased, placing his hands on her hips under the shirt she wore.
“Stop teasing me,” he whispered, swallowing some saliva to moisten his dry throat. She laughed quietly and he bit his lip, becoming flustered with her confidence. “Please,” he begged softly, lowering her hips to press against his so her wet pussy could brush against his throbbing cock.
She let out a faint hum, letting him fuck himself with both amusement and fascination. He closed his eyes despite wanting to feel demeaned by the look on her face and got lost in the tiny fragments of pleasure he was feeling. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, focusing on teasing her soaked entrance with the soft head of his cock until she gave in and shifted to let him slip inside her.
“Fuck… yes,” he moaned, gripping her hips tightly as her warmth and her slick coated his cock. She ground her hips against his, squeezing his cock until he whined and bucked his hips up into her. “Fuck, don’t do that,” he hissed.
She chuckled mischievously, then shushed him as she slowly rolled her hips against his, his mouth parting. A broken moan left his lips, but it was immediately muffled by him when he bit her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. He thrusted his hips upwards, slowly moving in and out of her until she was pushing him onto his back and riding him.
He screwed his eyes shut, biting his lip so hard he thought he’d taste his blood soon. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, bruising her soft skin with his desperate touch. His eyes fluttered open to watch her lift herself up and down with her lips parted and swollen. He felt like cumming just at the sight of her and she must have expected a loud moan to fall from his now open mouth because she put her hand over it just as a groan rumbled in his chest, deep and hot.
Her walls spasmed around him, a quiet curse falling from her lips. She looked over at Sam cautiously, picking up the pace and keeping her hand over his mouth. He felt even more turned on, noting the way she shifted her hips to add friction to her clit. He whined against her hand, desperately meeting her thrusts as the bed springs started to squeak louder.
He didn’t even care if Sam woke up anymore, he tugged her hips forward, wanting her full attention on him. He felt his cock swell and twitch inside her, so close to spilling hot inside her. She was driving him crazy, especially with the way her walls squeezed his cock so tight as if it would shut her up.
It drove him over the edge and he came inside her almost involuntarily. Another moan from him heated her palm. She gasped from the unexpectedness of it, leaning over him, her soft hair tickling his skin. She moaned loudly into the bed, pressed her face into the sheets by his head as she trembled and came on his cock. Her warm walls quivered and dripped around him, her hips moving on his cock slower as she rode out her orgasm, his sweaty skin sticking to hers.
She turned her face slightly, her warm breath tickling his ear. He lifted his hand up to move her hair behind her ear and she removed her hand from his mouth, resting it over his thumping heart. They both laid there for a few moments, unmoving, panting in an attempt to catch their breaths and clear their hazy minds. He lovingly pressed kisses along her cheek, temple, and the tip of her ear, rubbing his hand up and down her sides under her shirt.
“That was so hot,” he said after a while, sounding breathless and hoarse. She laughed tiredly and she started to lift the top of her body off him, only to lean forward and kiss him deeply. He was smiling, his mouth readily open for her. His tongue slipped into her minty mouth, soft tongues rolling over each other languidly.
Both of them smiled into the kiss and he wrapped his arm around her waist, moving her onto her back and slipping out of her, careless about the mess he was making between their bodies. She hummed softly against his mouth, a little laugh making her part from his lips. He continued to admire her, fixing her sex hair as best as he could before he dropped a kiss on her forehead, trailing his lips down to her warm cheeks and neck.
“We have a long drive tomorrow, D,” she murmured, her nails gently scratching his scalp, “you should sleep now, I’ll take care of the mess.” He moaned quietly, agreeing with her, pressing his face into her neck and kissed the spot his lips were closest to.
“Mkay,” he mumbled, moving up off her. He looked around for his boxers and felt the bed shift as she made her way to the restroom to clean herself up. He grabbed her underwear off the lamp and grabbed his phone, using the lowest light level to check if they’d stained the sheets.
Despite having told him she’d take care of it, he didn’t listen. He shoved the clean sheets away, feeling both shy and prideful at the mess, and pulled the dirty covers off to hide them as best as he could and replaced them as quickly as he could with clean ones he always made sure to ask for beforehand when they got a room.
He moved out of bed when he was done, waddling to the bathroom with her underwear in his hand. He smiled fondly when he found her washing her hands with the water hardly turned on so it wouldn’t be loud and wake Sam up.
“Your underthings,” he said with a grin, holding them up for her. She turned to look at him and chuckled, drying her hands with a towel to take her underwear from him. “Allow me, my love,” he said dramatically, stopping her from taking them. She gave him a look but played along.
He squatted down in front of her and lifted her leg with his hand around her ankle. She held onto his shoulder for balance, allowing him to help her into her underwear with an amused and affectionate smile on her face that glowed in her eyes.
“Thanks, Dean,” she murmured. She pecked his lips when he stood back up to her face, after having pulled the soft cotton up her legs and comfortably in place around her hips. He squeezed her ass playfully, drawing a laugh from her.
She followed him with her eyes when he moved towards the sink to wash his hands with soap and warm water. She waited for him patiently, leaning against the doorway and playing with the hem of the black t-shirt. She admired him this time, took in the messy and soft spikes of his hair, his teeth pulling at his plump lip. He was gorgeous and he looked over at her, his eyes warm and loving as he took her in too.
“Let’s go to bed, my little flower.” Dean dried his hands with the same towel she used and reached out for her hand, seeing her roll her eyes and snort at the new pet-name he was trying out for her. “You know you like all the names I give you,” he smirked down at her, turning the lights off after her to make their way back to bed.
“I do,” she admitted after a while, biting her lip to stop her happy smile. He could see her thanks to the bright lights outside and the drawn curtains. A delightful feeling filled his stomach and made him feel warm all over. He took her face in his hands, giving her the type of kiss people would give each other if they were saying hello after missing each other their whole lives.
Tumblr media
taglist
@spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx
Tumblr media
main masterlist
dean winchester masterlist
Tumblr media
© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 
do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
2K notes · View notes
augustjustice · 2 months
Text
Chemistry, History, and Shared Trauma
AO3 Link
The day Eddie’s released from the hospital, he’s packed up into Steve’s BMW and driven straight to the Harrington mansion.
The government agents are still in the process of doing the whole song-and-dance routine required to clear Eddie’s name, so laying low is ideal. There hasn’t been time to relocate Wayne to a new trailer–something Owen promises is happening, though Eddie will believe it when he sees it–and a hotel room isn’t really a great place to recover, especially considering the state Eddie finds himself in. 
When the question of where exactly he was going to go had come up, Steve had volunteered all too quickly.
“You can stay with me,” he had said, easy as pie, like it was nothing. “My parents aren’t home, and, besides…it’s not like anybody’s going to be looking for you there.”
Though Eddie had tried to protest, quick to say that he didn’t want to put Steve out, his jock savior wouldn’t hear a word of it.
So, the next day, Steve had shown up to the hospital early, signed all the appropriate paperwork, and then wheeled Eddie out into the parking lot whistling some upbeat, poppy tune Eddie didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of recognizing–but still found oddly endearing, in spite of himself. 
And that had been that, Steve hauling Eddie’s cane out for him under one arm and his bag of meds in the other once they pull up in front of the Harringtons’ house, ready to put Eddie up in the guest room next to his like he’d belonged there all along.
Eddie’s mobility is still pretty limited–hence the cane and the wheelchair now sitting in the Harrington’s den–but that doesn’t mean he isn’t bold (and stupid) enough to try to make his way up the stairs on his own.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve scolds, catching Eddie around the waist as he wavers on his feet a little, clearly being careful of the open wounds on his stomach and torso. “Hold on, just…hold on, man.” 
“You got me, big boy?” Eddie teases.
The flirtatious call back is a diversion, an attempt to cover up the embarrassment of having to be this damn reliant on…well, literally everyone around him, but Steve in particular from here on out. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I got you,” Steve says, tone nothing less than perfectly sincere. 
Eddie deliberately ignores the way his stomach gives a little swoop in response. 
So he leans on Steve heavily as they make their way to the next story of the house, close enough to get a faint whiff of Steve’s cologne, a surprisingly sweet mix of amber, vanilla, and something a little fruity tickling his nose. Once they’re finally inside, though, Eddie does manage to hold himself upright long enough for a quick look around, taking in the digs he’s going to be sleeping in.
The room itself is almost sterile in its cleanliness–neat military precious corners on the bed, devoid of the usual clutter Eddie associates with home. The blue floral pattern that covers the walls is bizarrely identical to the fabric of the curtains, the repetition almost comical, when he thinks about the uniformity of all the houses that line the street. It’s the kind of detail that would be called too ‘on the nose,’ if written into a book. 
Eddie’s surprised to find a few exceptions to the cold tidiness, however, and even more surprised those exceptions come in the form of a stack of fantasy novels stashed inside the bedside table and a couple of action figures tossed in one corner.
Following his gaze, Steve turns from where he’s ‘tidying up’ what can only be an imaginary mess perceptible to the eyes of babysitting monster hunters and babysitting monster hunters alone, Eddie guesses. He gives Eddie a wry look. 
“Dustin stays over sometimes,” he explains, “the other rugrats, too, but it’s still mostly his stuff that winds up here. Leaves his shit all over the place.” 
There’s a fondness to Steve’s smile that undercuts the annoyance in his words. 
Eddie thinks back to the months and months Dustin spent talking Steve up to him. How even then it never really occurred to him just how close they might be. It’s strange to think, now, that though Eddie’s spent nearly a whole school year as DM for Steve’s nerdy band of babysitting charges, their paths had rarely ever crossed, beyond glimpses and a handful of long forgotten words exchanged, before that nightmare of a Spring Break. Almost like their lives have been running in some kind of strange parallel, fated to collide, without either of them even noticing it.
Eddie’s not exactly sure how to phrase the feeling that comes over him at the thought, so instead he says, “I can’t believe we’re best friends with a fourteen year old, man.”
“God, tell me about it.” 
Eddie takes a few stumbling steps forward and sits down on the bed, honestly a bit proud of himself he manages it with as much grace as he does. As he settles in, he catches sight of a small stack of photos splayed out on the bedside, sitting atop what looks to be a photo album. 
Though it’s only a brief glimpse, the two visible pictures alone hint at the whole life story no doubt tucked away between glossy pages. 
Theres’s Dustin, several years younger than he is now, in a suit shooting the camera his gummy smile and with a hairdo that looks suspiciously like Steve’s own. And a polaroid shows Robin sprawled out on the counter at Scoops Ahoy, company policy be damned and a book in her hand, Steve’s head just in frame as she flips off the camera.  
While Steve fusses over him, fluffing his pillows and insisting he go get Eddie something to drink, Eddie can’t help but think he'd sorta like to hear it sometime–Steve Harrington’s life story. Be regaled with tales, from the photos and beyond, now that they’re here together, after the almost end of the world.
He hopes that, maybe, if he’s lucky, Steve will want to tell him some day. 
---
The bloodcurdling scream wakes Steve. 
He’s out of his room and down the hall in a flash, nail bat quickly snatched out of its hiding place underneath his bed with ease after years of practice. 
Even with his heart racing, he’s quiet when he opens the guest bedroom door, not wanting to scare Eddie or alert…anything else that might be lurking inside. 
“Eddie,” Steve calls out, whisper soft as he approaches the bed. When he repeats it, it’s a little harsher, more of a hiss, trying to get Eddie’s attention. “Eddie!” 
As he draws closer, Steve can see that Eddie is sweating, large droplets visible where they’ve beaded on his forehead, and he’s writhing hard enough in the sheets Steve’s worried he’s going to pop a stitch if he doesn’t stop him soon.
There’s really only one option ahead Steve sees for himself. 
So he gets a knee on the mattress and climbs into the bed, wrapping his arms around Eddie to still him. Even as he does it, Steve worries his bottom lip between his teeth, anxious Eddie might fight against the restriction and inadvertently make the situation worse. 
But then huge brown eyes fly open, Eddie’s terror reflected plainly as he stares up at Steve. 
“Jeez–Christ!” Eddie manages to get out, stuttered and slurred, cutting off when Steve makes a soft shushing sound. 
“Hey, man,” Steve murmurs, trying to keep his tone soothing as he gives him a tentative smile, “it’s me. It’s just me. You’re okay, you’re safe.” 
He brushes Eddie’s sweaty bangs back from his forehead, a gesture that would be too intimate in any other circumstances, and then just keeps trying to murmur reassuring shit to him, voice low and gentle. 
“I’m here, Eds. I’m here.” 
Eddie is shaking against him, but he isn’t squirming or trying to buck him off, which Steve takes as a good sign–as ideal, really, as Steve could hope for in this situation. One of Eddie’s hands comes up to run down his face, his curls shifting against the pillow as he shakes his head fervently. 
“Shit, Harrington, I thought–I mean, what I saw–” he trails off, lip trembling. 
“I get it, man. Trust me, I get it.”
Though Eddie had squeezed his eyes firmly shut through the come down, he blinks them open again, looking at Steve through the darkness.
“Yeah, uh. Guess you would, wouldn’t you? Probably better than anybody.” 
Steve can only nod his agreement.
“I mean, not just me. All of us get them,” he whispers, compelled to say it quietly, as he’s not sure if that truth is a comfort or a burden. “The nightmares, you know? Nance, Dustin, Robin–me.” 
“Well, can I just say, they truly and royally suck.”
“Yeah…can’t really argue with you there, man.”
Eddie seems to register, then, that Steve has curled his body around him. His steadily loosening posture goes stiff again, much to Steve’s disappointment, and his eyes dart over nervously to catch Steve’s as he sucks in his bottom lip. 
“Fuck, I-I’m sorry, dude. I totally didn’t mean to wake you up with my–terror-filled screams.”
The smile he shoots Steve is self-deprecating, tentative. 
Steve’s grip slackens, but he doesn’t pull away, still pressed against Eddie’s side. 
“Hey,” Steve coaxed, “you don’t need to do that, Eds. Like I said, we all fucking get them. That’s what I’m here for, okay? I–just wanna help when I can.”
The quirk of Eddie’s lips looks more genuine, now, some of the tension draining away. 
“You know, Harrington, it’s kinda annoying how much I know you mean that.”
“Better get used to it, Munson. Cuz I’m not going anywhere.”
Steve gives Eddie one final quick squeeze around his shoulders, wondering if the gesture somehow crosses the line of casual, friendly touch Steve has gotten used to doling out to Eddie since all the Upside Down shit started, the jocular back pats and hair ruffling he’d justified as just typical guy stuff. 
With that thought firmly at the front of his mind, Steve pulls away, albeit reluctantly. That said, he really doesn’t want to go back immediately on his word by slinking off to his bedroom, abandoning Eddie to fight off whatever images linger alone in the dark.
Especially not when he hears the almost imperceptible noise Eddie lets out as he stands. 
Steve eyes the floor speculatively, an idea already taking root in his head. 
“Speaking of, why don’t I just–stay here tonight. Yeah?” he suggests, already tossing the pillow and throw from the chair in the corner on the ground, making himself a pallet.
Sure, it’s not the most comfortable sleeping position ever, but between chairs in the Wheelers’ basement and the cold, hard floor of a Russian elevator, Steve’s done a lot worse. 
“C’mon, man–you don’t have to do that,” Eddie tries to protest. 
Like Steve can’t clearly see how haggard he looks, peering down at Steve through the curtain of his hair, the end of one strand damp where he’s pulled it up to his mouth and chewed on it.
Steve waves him off. “It’s not a problem. I already told you, dude, Henderson stays over all the time–you think I’ve never had to have a floor sleepover when he was around? Get real.”
Eddie quirks an eyebrow at him. 
“...Something tells me you’re not going anywhere even if I pull out my magnificent rhetorical skills from years of DMing  and try to argue with you, huh?”
Steve thinks that really Eddie’s just proved his point, the fact that, since Steve mentioned staying, he’s recovered himself enough to be teasing all the more reason sticking around is clearly a good thing. 
“Nope,” he answers, voice chipper as he shoots a finger gun at Eddie.
Eddie shakes his head ruefully. “Alright, didn’t think so.” 
Without further ado, Steve flops himself gracelessly onto his makeshift bed for the night, the thick carpet beneath softening his landing. 
“Night, Eddie.”
“Yeah. Yeah, night, Steve.”
Several long moments pass, and Steve listens, waiting to hear Eddie’s breathing evening out. It’s a sound he has become well acquainted with after many nights spent at the hospital, fitfully trying to sleep in the uncomfortable chair at Eddie’s bedside. When he fails to hear that telltale signal, Steve can’t help but stay tensed, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.
He doesn’t have to wait long before Eddie breaks the silence.
“Steve?” Eddie calls out, voice wavering. “Could you–fuck, man, I just need…”
He trails off, becoming muffled as he probably buries his face in his hands again. Even in the darkness, as Steve sits up, he can see the way Eddie’s shoulders hitch with his uneven breathing. 
Without a word, he abandons the pillow and blanket on the floor to climb back onto the bed. Eddie doesn’t even look up when Steve’s weight dips the mattress.
“Hey, man,” Steve hipchecks him, nudging him over gently, “move over.”
“Harrington…” Eddie drawls slowly, looking completely lost even as he does as requested. His eyes widen further when Steve climbs into the empty space he left behind. “What’re you doing?”
“What does it look like?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow as he leans back onto the pillows, getting comfortable. 
“I know what it looks like, I just need some reassurance I’m not just hallucinating from blood loss or something here, man. Maybe you didn’t actually pull me, barely alive, out of that hellhole, and everything since then has all just been a really, really elaborate dream.” 
Steve laughs, jostling his shoulder slightly.
“You’re not hallucinating.”
Eddie continues to stare at him in silent disbelief, causing Steve to sigh and sit up.
“Look, man, I–I get it, okay? All this, afterwards…sometimes it helps, just…being together. Close by, you know?”
Steve had had Nancy and the pretense of normalcy after the first go around, though that had all quickly gone to hell. 
And the second time, when the kids truly were still kids, not the tiny adults they were fast becoming, there had been Dustin. The night after their second showdown, they’d slept side-by-side on their own makeshift palate on Joyce Byers’ living room floor, the other munchkins all scattered around them and Steve’s hand ruffled in Dustin’s hair, just the reassurance that he was there safe and comforting.
It was the best Steve had slept in almost a year. 
And then, after the third time, there had been Robin. Filling up his parents’ empty house with laughter, movie marathons and impromptu sleepovers. Robin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night because she didn’t want to sleep alone in the echoing walls of Casa de Harrington, the two of them kicking each other like two giggling preteens until they fell asleep. 
So, yeah. Together, in Steve’s many years of experience, was undeniably better.
“Besides, this way I can check and make sure you don’t actually bleed out in the middle of the night.” 
“...If you say so,” Eddie says dubiously, but he doesn’t argue any further, which Steve counts as a win. He’s learned to take them where he can get them, these days. 
But even after his agreement, Eddie’s restlessness is transparent. He fidgets beside Steve–drumming his fingers, squirming in the sheets as though trying to get comfortable, and eventually rolling half onto his side so that he’s facing away from Steve entirely. As Steve peers curiously at the outline of his shoulders, he realizes Eddie is still trembling, just a little.
His heart gives a painful kick in his chest. 
“Here, just–” Steve turns until he’s lined up along Eddie’s back and then wraps a hand around his waist, pulling him back against him.
Eddie’s fidgeting stops immediately as he freezes in Steve’s arms. 
“How’s that?” he asks into the waves of Eddie’s hair brushing against his face. “Better?” 
“Uh.” 
The hesitation in Eddie’s voice makes Steve really wish he could see his face, get a better read on the situation. Eddie’s so damn expressive, he might as well be the poster boy for “heart on his sleeve” as a phrase. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”
“Are you totally weirded out?” Steve asks, trying to keep his voice casual. “If you want me to, like, stop, you can just…tell me, you know.” 
“No,” Eddie laughs, his head dipping downwards, “no, man, it’s…it’s definitely not that. I’m just trying to reconcile several shifting pieces of my world outlook into place all at once.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
Eddie turns, then, tipping over onto his back again so he can stare at Steve in disbelief. Steve doesn’t loosen his hold on his waist. 
“Steve Harrington. Is in my bed. Spooning me,” Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “None of that strikes you as weird?”
“I’m not spooning you now,” Steve points out. “You turned around.”
“Dude!” Eddie smacks his shoulder, shaking his head, laughter in his voice. They’re close enough his hair tickles Steve’s face as it whips around them.
“And, no, not really,” Steve shrugs. “Probably doesn’t even rank in the top ten weirdest things I’ve done in the past three years.” 
“I mean…after the shit I’ve seen? I don’t doubt that, dude.”
But Eddie stares at him for a long beat after he admits it, eyes bright and brows drawn. There’s an expression, on his face, like he’d like to crack Steve open and see how his gears work, understand him from the inside out. 
Plenty of people have looked at Steve like they wanted him. Steve’s not sure anyone has ever looked at him like this before, though. 
The comforter has fallen down around Eddie’s waist, the shirt Steve had lent him riding up, exposing the pale line of his stomach. The worst of the wounds are still covered in bandages, the stitching hidden underneath them, but a patch of fresh, purple scarring spills out from the stark white gauze.
That’s the only real explanation that Steve has, for what he decides to break the sudden, loaded silence with.
(Plus maybe, just maybe, it’s one way of giving Eddie a part of himself, one jigsaw piece in the puzzle those bright brown eyes seem eager to solve.)
“You know, Nancy has a scar on her palm.”
When Eddie’s face turns towards his on the pillow, shooting him a puzzled look, he keeps going. 
“Here, like this,” Steve tries to sound nonchalant as he takes Eddie’s hand, drags a finger gently across it. He’s not sure how much he’s succeeded, seeing the way the furrow of Eddie’s brow deepens in the low light. “And it’s…from the first time, with the demogorgon? Nancy and Jonathan, they–they lured it out together, and they’ve got the matching scars to prove it. She explained it to me, later, what happened.”
“I mean…that sounds like a gnarly war wound,” Eddie observes hesitantly. Then, his lips tug into a lopsided smile. “Not as impressive as a missing nipple, of course, but, you know–not everybody can be as badass as me.”
“Shut up, dude,” Steve scoffs, trying to bite back his own smile as he very gently jostles Eddie’s arm. 
“What I’m trying to say, Harrington, is–I’m not really sure why you’re telling me this now?”
“I was getting to it, Eds. Sheesh, when it comes to patience, you're as bad as the munchkins.”
Eddie inclines his head for Steve to continue, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “You have my sincerest apologies for interrupting, Stevie. Please–carry on, my liege.”
“Thank you,” Steve says snippily, partially out of habit, and partially because returning to the topic at hand is making him a little nervous. “So, like I was saying–Jonathan and Nance, they’ve got these matching marks on their hands, right? And, after they got back together–not to sound like a stalker, or anything, for the record this was when we would hang out sometimes–but more than once I would…I would catch them, just. Doing this thing where they pressed their palms together, like this.”
He demonstrates, spreading his hand out so his and Eddie’s hands line up together perfectly, Steve’s own longer fingers inching out over the tips of Eddie’s own.
“I don’t think they ever realized I noticed. But I always knew, when they did it, they were comparing their–what did you call them?–their matching war wounds. Like they carried this secret little thing that would always tie them together, no matter what happened. And I’m not gonna pretend I wasn’t jealous, at first, but even then, I always thought it was…nice. The thought of having somebody who would always be connected to you, that way, where you could never really erase what you’d been through together.” 
A long beat of silence passes between them, him and Eddie staring at each other in the moonlight. Steve hopes, desperately, that maybe some part of what he’s trying to work up to saying is getting through. 
“That is…incredibly morbid. Especially for you, Harrington,” Eddie notes finally, a corner of his mouth ticking up in amusement. 
Steve huffs out a breath, beginning to pull his hand away, “Whatever, man, if you’re just gonna make fun, forget I said any–”
“Shit, no no no, dude!” Eddie’s arm flies out, gripping Steve tightly around the wrist, not letting him slink away. “I’m sorry, Stevie, I–that’s not what I meant. I do, I do get what you’re saying. Like you said, scars like that–they work like a symbol, that you’ve been through some tough shit together, side by side, and made it out the other end alive. I totally fucking get it, dude. And against all instincts, I do think it’s pretty romantic, in an absolutely metal sorta way. That’s why I said it like that. Just didn’t expect your romantic side to come with so much edge, Stevie boy.”
“Yeah, well,” Steve lets out a dry huff, “almost dying about a hundred times will do that to a person.” 
“Yeah, I guess it will. I’m, uh. Still not completely clear about what Wheeler and Byers’ big epic love story has to do with us, though?” Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Unless…you’re here to wallow? In which case–I mean, fair enough. Wallow away, my good sir. You’ve more than earned it.”
“It’s not that,” Steve insists, even as he shrugs his shoulders, slightly conceding the point. “I mean, sure, with Nancy…I really thought she was it for me, once upon a time. And so when I saw what she had, with Jonathan–it hurt. Because it was her, of course, but also…because I wanted that with someone, as twisted as it maybe sounds. I’d gone through hell and back, too, and all I got was that nail bat and a bunch of mouthy kids to look out for.”
Eddie lets out a bark of laughter, and Steve grins back at him.  
“Not that I’m complaining, or anything. I mean, I got Robin, too, and I don’t know what I’d do without her, or the hellions, for that matter. But, I–”
Deliberately, he tugs up his own shirt, shifting until he’s pressing carefully against Eddie’s side. Their matching bandages brush, an identical swath of white in the darkness, tangled scars seeming to almost curl together. It’s hard, in that moment, to tell where one of them ends and the other begins. 
“I just–never thought I’d have anybody else to match with. That’s all.” 
“But–now you do?” Eddie says slowly, something cautious in his voice.
“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugs, the corner of his mouth curving upwards in a tentative half-smile. “Now I’ve got you.”
“...You got me,” Eddie agrees quietly, almost like he’s afraid to speak that part out loud. “Dragged me out of hell and everything, Harrington. No return receipt after all that so…don’t really think there’s any getting rid of me now, even if you wanted to.”
“Good,” Steve says curtly, with a sharp, certain nod of his head, leaving no room for any creeping doubts. “Like I said, Munson, I’ve been waiting on this for a while, so you don’t get to run out on me now.”
Eddie shakes his head again, lips curling in bemusement. 
“You are something else entirely, Steve Harrington,” he admits. “Full of surprises.”
“Good ones?” Steve asks, suddenly self-conscious.
Eddie tilts his head back and forth, as though he’s considering.
(Later, he will tease Steve about it mercilessly.
“Was that the infamous Harrington charm at work? Bet you tell that one to all the boys you lure into your bed, seduce them with tales of matching battle wounds connecting you like a pair of fated lovers.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Eds,” Steve will counter with that same sincerity that always sends Eddie blushing, “cuz I’ve never said anything like that before. Not to anybody. Not before you.”)
But, for now, it takes only a moment for Eddie’s face to dissolve into a warm smile. Reaching over, he tangles his fingers with Steve’s again, tugging their interlaced hands up to rest against one of the scarred patches stretching across his belly. 
The skin feels smooth under Steve’s hand. For a moment, he wonders how it would feel, to press his lips there. 
“Yeah,” Eddie answers, eyes sparkling with so many promises of the future, for now left unsaid. “Yeah, I’d say pretty good so far.”
397 notes · View notes