#steve's meat locker

[sunday-bug]

May I request Steve Kemp and vampire reader, please? Thank you in advance!

So Take a Bite

Pairing: Steve Kemp x Vampire!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Content: BLOOD, feeding from live humans, p in v sex, mentions of cannibalism & murder, Steve being manipulative & charming to get his way (ya'll have seen Fresh, he's a bad, delicious guy)

Synopsis: Steve supplies exactly what you crave... but what if he's offering you more?

A/N: I’ve never written anything like this so don't judge too harshly lol although I’d love constructive feedback - also thank you for this prompt because it made me write outside of my comfort zone and I had a TON of fun with it - thank you for your patience anon - I know this has been in my inbox for months ❤️ also thank you to @navybrat817 for reminding me that Steve can steal blood from the hospital because he’s a doctor (I have no common sense sometimes) also I listened to The Offering by Sleep Token A LOT while writing this lmao ok I’m done yapping

“I’m almost out, Kemp. I’m serious. Don’t fuck around with me. I can expose your sick ass in a second.”

Steve scoffs, “My sick ass? You’re the one that can’t survive without what I provide you. You need me. Just admit it, sweetheart.”

Steve hears you grumble over the phone and smiles, pleased with himself. There’s a market for everything - human meat & blood are his niche. And he’s damn good at both of them. Some people are just impatient and ungrateful. He waits for you to say something - he isn’t going to break first.

“Fine. Meet me tonight. I’ll pay you an expedience fee,” you say firmly.

“Double. You’ll pay me double. I’ll make sure it’s fresh, and you can have it tonight.”

He hears your breath intake on the other line before you answer, “Deal.” You hang up before he can.

-

Steve takes his scrub cap off and throws it in the laundry bin of the surgeon's locker room. Another day of routine procedures - a couple breast implants, a skin graft, a rhinoplasty, and a face lift to end the day. He walks to his locker and changes from his scrubs into his street clothes. 

“You done for the day, Kemp?” A familiar voice asks.

Steve looks up to see Dr. Lowndes striding towards him.

“Yeah, all done,” he says politely, grabbing his bag and walking toward the door. “Just going up to see my Nana. She was admitted last night for chest pain.”

“Oh, is she in the ICU? They look swamped today.”

“Uh, yeah, ICU. But she’s going to be fine,” Steve lies. Lies about the whole thing. His Nana has been dead for a decade.

“I hope so. Have a good afternoon,” Lowndes says.

“Sure thing. You too,” Steve waves and darts out of the locker room like a man on a mission. He takes the stairs to the fourth floor and surveys who the nurses on duty are - Mandi, Alexis, Torriana, ah… there she is, Brynn.

“Hi ladies,” Steve says with a smile as he sidles up to the nurses station. He catches Brynn’s eye slyly and smirks. “Heard you guys are busy today.”

“Yes, very,” Alexis says, not looking up from the medical chart on her computer. She’s always a bit prickly with him.

“I, uh, think my Nana was admitted last night… Brynn. Can you help me out with that?”

“Of course, Dr. Kemp,” she says professionally.

“Walk with me,” Steve instructs, maneuvering her away from the desk. So ductile, so meek, such a good listener. She follows him with fervor.

“How many units do you need?” She asks quietly as they round the corner, getting straight to business.

“How many do you have?” Steve asks, entering an empty patient room and shutting the door behind them both.

“Dr. Kemp, I-,” she starts.

“I need 12-15. Tonight. Now, actually.” 

“Okay, I don’t know if I can get them now,” she sighs, biting her bottom lip nervously.

“You know, you look really pretty today. Are these new?” Steve reaches up gently to look at her earrings. She closes her eyes and leans her cheek into his palm. “Are they from your fiancé?” He growls, tugging on one gently. Her eyes snap open and she pulls her face away from his hand.

“Yes, they are.” She looks at him with desperate eyes. “Pull your car around to the trauma bay. I’ll bring them out in a styrofoam cooler. And Steve?”

“Yeah?” He asks, hand on the door knob.

“I’d leave him for you if you asked,” she whispers, tugging on the earring he’d just touched.

“I know you would, sweetheart. We’ll talk about it later, okay?” He gives her a gentle smile before turning around and heading down to his car. The secret is to keep her hopes up - give her just enough to make her bend to his will. She’s a pretty girl, but too young and naive. He’d love to take her home and sell her for parts, but that damn fiancé fucks up that plan. Besides, he has her right where he wants her. And if she quits, he’ll charm another to do his bidding.

He pulls his sleek car around and sees her standing there waiting, cooler full of liquid cash. He pops the trunk and watches her set it inside. She walks around to the driver’s side and he cracks his window.

“Text me?” She asks sweetly, eyes full of hope.

“Sure thing,” he replies with a wink before taking off, knowing he doesn't even have her number saved.

-

Steve pulls out his phone as he parks in his driveway and sends you a text: It’s fresh. My place. 7pm.

You respond with a thumbs up emoji and count your cash out on your bed again, making sure you have enough to cover his exorbitant fee. You huff in frustration and thirst, but damn it’s worth it. Steve is the only one that provides exactly what you need - fresh human blood. 

You’re going to be late on your rent payment again now because of this beautiful asshole, but what else can you do? Starve to death? Not an option. You put your money in your bra and get in your car to drive to his place. Motherfucker just has to live 20 miles outside of town. That’s gas money now too.

You pull up to his house into his weird fancy driveway that looks like Swiss cheese and park your beater next to his stupid sports car. Fucking Kemp. Such an asshole. You shoot him a quick text that you’re here and wait for him to come outside. Your phone buzzes and you look down to see that he’s texted you back: Come in. Door’s unlocked. You swallow, never having been inside Steve’s place. This whole exchange usually took less than five minutes before you were satiated and on your way. You knock on his front door and hear rustling on the other side before he opens and invites you in. 

“What’s with the change of protocol?” You ask warily, looking around the entryway.

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. “I thought we could have dinner. We always rush the interchange. I figure it’d be nice to have a meal together.”

You shudder at the thought. “If you think I’m going to eat anything you’ve cooked, you’re out of your damn mind, Kemp.”

He utters your name, “It’s vegetable risotto. Now come in.”

You walk into Steve’s home and let him shut the front door behind you. It’s nice - retro, but the kind of retro where everything looks incredibly curated and expensive. 

“Wine?” He asks, plating your food.

“Sure, thank you,” you reply, walking around his dining area and checking out all of his artwork. “Actually, can I just have some of my supply? I shouldn’t drink alcohol when my tank is nearly empty.”

Steve laughs lightly at your word choice and nods. “Sure, pay me now. I’ll even load the cooler in your car because I’m such a nice guy.”

You roll your eyes and sigh, taking the cash out of your bra and handing it over to him. 

“Classy,” he notes sarcastically, taking the money from your hands. “Sit.” You watch him retrieve the cooler from the refrigerator and take a unit out. “You, uh, just straight from the bag or would you like a glass?” He asks.

You can’t help but laugh. “A glass would be nice.” He takes one from the cupboard and gestures for you to do the rest. You prepare your “drink”.

“Gimme your keys. I’ll run this out to your car,” he says nonchalantly. You toss him your car keys and he walks out the front door to stash your goods in your trunk. You lift the lid of the pan on the stove and inspect it closely. It looks and smells normal, but you’re still rightfully skeptical. Steve saunters back in at that moment, and you drop the lid loudly onto the pan.

“Vegetable. Risotto. I promise,” he reminds you sternly. “I don’t surprise anyone with my acquired tastes. Truthfully, I don’t have many dinner guests. But I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, but this is helping immensely,” you assure him, holding up your half empty glass. His eyes flit from the glass to yours and you shrug. “You think it’s weird," you say.

“I’m not one to judge,” he sighs, pulling a dining chair out for you. “Sit.”

You sit in the plush chair and watch him bring a plate to you. The food is still steaming. He puts his plate down and sits at the head of the table next to you. He takes a bite and smiles. “I’m a great cook. I’ll brag about that.” 

You smile and take a bite. Damn. He is a great cook. You both sit in silence for a few moments, enjoying the first bites of your meal. You finish your drink, feeling the vitality course through your cold veins once more. Steve watches you finish off your glass and take a bite of the risotto.

“Feeling better?” He muses, looking at your eyes closely. “You look… revitalized.”

“I feel it.” You say with a grin. “There’s nothing like the feeling right after… drinking.”

“I think I know what you mean,” he says. “Like you’re high on life?” 

“Yes, exactly,” you agree, leaning in closer over your plate.

Steve smiles and looks down. “You know, we have more in common than you think we do, sweetheart. You say I’m sick for how I choose to live, but how are you any different, really?” 

You consider his question carefully. “I don’t hurt people. That’s the difference, Steve. Isn’t that obvious?”

He nods before smiling darkly at you. “You’ve never had it from the tap? Never tasted it hot from the source?”

You swallow against your better judgement, your body betraying your mind. “N-no… and I never will.” 

“Who are you trying to convince? Yourself or me?” He stands up and grabs your barely finished plate from you before setting it on the kitchen island. “Come with me.” 

You reluctantly follow him and he offers his hand. You hesitate, not sure what his plan is. “I want to show you something.” Charismatic fucker. You take his hand - warm, big, inviting - and he leads you to a large wooden door. 

“Steve, I actually think I should go,” you say quickly, wishing it had come out more composed. You don't want him to know that you are slightly panicked.

“You’re free to leave at any time,” he assures you softly before bringing a hand up to push your hair behind your ear. “I just wanted to enjoy dinner with a beautiful woman. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no, you didn’t,” you assure him, shocked by his words. He thought you were beautiful? Steve Kemp thought you were beautiful? “Lead the way," you offer unsteadily now.

He smiles and rubs his thumb against the back of your hand as he unlocks the oversized door. You walk down a curved stone staircase into a cool, dimly lit, and extremely clean basement with a hallway of doors. “This is my favorite part of the house,” he whispers, peering down the hall. 

“Why’s that?” You ask sweetly, still reeling from his earlier admission.

“It’s where I can be myself,” he answers matter-of-factly. His eyes meet yours and they crinkle at the corners as he smiles darkly. “I want to share it with you because you understand the lengths we go to to satiate ourselves. To satisfy our hunger. To indulge our tastes. To meet our needs. You know what’s necessary. Plus, I know you think about me, sweetheart,” he says the last part into your hair and a shiver runs down your spine. “Just like I think about you.” 

Your knees nearly buckle at his confession. “I do… think about you,” you admit.

“I know you do,” he whispers. “I want to take care of you. Let me show you something special I’ve been saving for you.”

“For me?” You ask incredulously, following him down the hall. He unlocks a door and slides it open slowly, blocking the view inside with his body.

“I need you to promise me that you won’t freak out,” he warns you calmly. 

“Uh, okay,” you agree hesitantly. Steve steps aside to reveal a small room with a floor bed, toilet, large mural of the beach, and… wait… a woman stands up slowly, eyes wide with fear. Her mouth is muzzled like a dog. She cowers into the corner. 

“This is Noa,” Steve informs you emotionlessly. “She’s been a bit… disobedient lately.” He walks over to her and reaches into his jeans, revealing a pocket knife. The blade gleams in the light. “Come here,” he instructs you calmly. 

“Noa, stay still,” he says gruffly, looking at her with an irritated expression. “This is my friend,” he says your name and introduces you to her. He slyly takes a syringe from his other pocket and injects it into Noa’s neck as she’s looking at you pleadingly. Her eyes flutter closed and her body slumps into Steve’s arms. “Good girl,” he whispers, lowering her onto the floor. “I’m eliminating her next week to fill an order and thought you’d like to taste the elixir of life from the source.” He says everything so calmly, like this whole evening is routine and not completely fucked.

He assesses your gaze, rubbing your arm gently in an attempt to calm you. “Look, I know this is a lot to take in. But it’s just business, just like how I supply what you need. People pay for this. I supply it to them. I just knocked her out for a bit. She’ll wake up in a few hours. Aren’t you curious? Just a taste.”

You lick your lips involuntarily at just the thought of sinking your teeth into her soft exposed neck. Your gums ache, even though you’d just had a drink upstairs. “Steve… I-I don’t know if I can. She’s a human being. You’re taking her life from her. This is kind of crazy. I mean, you’re a murderer.”

“It’s only crazy if you say so, just like anything else in this world. Look at me,” he says gently, cupping your chin in his hand and aligning your gazes. “Let me take care of you. I can provide you exactly what you need. Fresh. From the source. Whenever you want it. I just… I want you. We would make a delicious team.” Your eyes close at his offer and your dark instincts take over. Energy thrums through your body from your chest to the aching sweet spot between your legs. You open your eyes to see Steve smiling at you, knife raised to Noa’s neck. He makes a small slit and blood seeps through the gash. Your nostrils flare as your senses are filled with her scent - dark, heady, fucking exquisite. You don’t think before your mouth is on her neck and you’re drinking right from her. Your entire body feels like it’s floating. Nothing has ever tasted so perfect. 

“There you go,” you hear Steve say next to you. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever had before, isn’t it?” His eyes are lit from within watching you feed on Noa. “You look so perfect like this. You’re fucked up just like me, pretty girl.” 

You pull back and lick your lips, the hot, sticky liquid stubbornly dripping down your chin, and look at Steve. His eyelids are heavy with lust, pupils blown wide. He inches toward you, his eyes moving from yours to your blood-covered lips. His mouth parts slowly, and that’s all the invitation you need. You crash your mouth into his and he hisses, smiling into the kiss. You’re both on your knees, hands everywhere on each other, grasping at fabric, skin, and hair. You break apart from him suddenly and search his face, his mouth now covered in Noa’s blood.

“What’s wrong with you?” You ask suddenly, the heat between your legs growing hotter and more violent by the second.

“I could ask you the same question,” he breathes out, reaching for you. “This is getting you wet - all of this. The blood, the basement, fuck, you’re worse than me.”

You crack a smile, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “How’d you know?”

“Demented recognizes demented, darling,” he sighs, clutching you to his chest.

“Take me to bed, Steve,” you demand, leaning down slowly to nip at his neck. He lets out the smallest gasp and picks you up, wraps his arms around you, and carries you out of Noa’s room and upstairs to his. He lays you down on the bed and unbuttons his shirt, revealing a sculpted chest. You shudder at the sight of him. You’ve always thought he’s beautiful, but now you know for certain that he is. He climbs onto the bed and lies next to you, maneuvering your body so you’re straddling him. You lean down to kiss him and lick the leftover blood from his mouth. His eyes darken even more.

“Bite me,” he requests.

"I want to," you whine.

"So take a bite," he says again.

You shift in his lap excitedly before leaning down to kiss his neck, teasing him a bit. You feel your canines extend in pleasure and run your teeth over his flesh gently, getting him used to the feeling. Goosebumps prick up all over his body in response and you hum. His hands find your hips and press you into him so you can feel his growing arousal. You moan at the thought of him being turned on by you.

“Ride me while you feed on me,” he demands, running his hands up your back against your bare skin. Your resolve snaps again, and you remove your clothes quickly, tossing them around the room. He bucks his hips to remove his pants. You’re both naked and writhing with pain for the other. You slide onto him and indulge in the sensation of being filled to the hilt. Your hips start rocking on him as he pulls you down to his face and kisses you softly. “Feed,” he begs. 

You smile at him, flashing your pointed canines and watching his eyes gleam with a mixture of arousal and fear, like he’s met his match. You find the hollow of his neck and sink your teeth in. His blood is a masterpiece - full of punch, energy, youth, and vitality. You thought Noa tasted incredible, but she has nothing on Steve. He moans beneath you,  and you know you’re on the edge of losing it. 

“My frenzied baby,” he whimpers, holding your head in his hands as you break free from your feed. “So precious.” His gentle praise makes you come as you toss your head back, riding it out on him. 

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart,” he encourages, gripping your hips with certainty as he loses himself in you, moaning your name in satisfaction. You lie down beside him, tracing the two small puncture wounds in his neck and smiling. Finally, someone that wanted you for you - all of you.

“Stay the night,” he offers, pulling you close to him. “I’ll even let you take your pick for breakfast in the morning.”

You grin at the thought of drinking from the source again. “Sounds like Heaven.”

“Even though we’re going to Hell,” he whispers, nuzzling into you. 

Taglist: @ruexj283 @buckybarnes82 @buckybarnesslutshop

[steddieas-shegoes]

i wanna make your heartbeat run like roller coasters

for @subeddieweek day one with the prompts manhandling and accidental subspace

rated e | 3,520 words | please check ao3 for tags

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Eddie gets pushed against a lot of lockers.

It’s rarely accidental.

It’s always painful.

He doesn’t exactly have a lot of meat on his bones. Every hit leaves a bruise.

So when Steve fucking Harrington does his own dirty work for once, even though he graduated the way Eddie was supposed to, it’s just a bit embarrassing that it doesn’t hurt. It feels…kinda like he should be on his knees.

Which is really not something he wanted to think about when Steve’s got a hand on his shoulder, gripping hard enough to bruise, and something like fear in his eyes. Why is he scared?

“Did you sell weed to Robin?” he asked, teeth clenched.

Jesus fucking Christ. Steve’s got himself a band nerd girlfriend. How the hell did that happen?

“No, I sold to her friend. She waited by the treeline talking to herself the entire time.”

Eddie could hear his own voice shaking, but he wouldn’t back down. Black eyes were kinda metal weren’t they?

“Which friend?”

“Dude, I don’t even know. Someone else in band.”

The hand on his shoulder tightened and he barely bit back a whimper.

Steve’s eyes were very pretty this close. They were pretty from far away, too. Honestly, having Steve this close was probably rewiring something already broken in his brain. Having Steve’s hand on him like this was making his brain do somersaults trying to stay focused.

And then his hand was gone.

Eddie breathed in, breathed out.

“Sorry. I-” Steve shook his hands out and backed away. “Sorry.”

Eddie ignored whatever the fuck was happening in his stomach. It shouldn’t be happening so it isn’t, simple as that.

“Maybe you should ask your girlfriend if you’re so worried about her buying drugs.” Eddie should learn to shut his mouth at some point. “I only sell to the people who come to me first.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I remember.” Steve wiped his hand down his face. “Sorry again.”

Eddie looked him up and down, taking in the fact that he was genuinely apologizing. No one ever apologized for knocking him around, not even when it was on accident.

“You good?” He eventually asked.

“Yeah. Just, she’s been through a lot. I didn’t really want her to get pressured into buying something,” Steve sighed. “Has she come out of the band room yet? I’m supposed to bring her to work.”

“Uh, yeah man, everyone left an hour ago.”

Eddie watched Steve’s face fall as he checked his watch and must’ve realized the time.

“Shit. Okay. I must’ve lost track of time.”

Steve looked pitiful. Eddie’s seen dogs in alleys who looked less beaten down and neglected than Steve currently did.

“I can help you find her?” Eddie offered for some unknown reason.

Well, he knew the reason, but he was choosing to ignore it.

“She’s probably already at work. It’s my day off so I ended up getting distracted with something and didn’t realize it was so late,” Steve admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks, though.”

Wayne liked to tell Eddie he was too nice to undeserving people. Lord knows he gave his dad too many chances and got let down every time. He even tried to be friends with Tommy Hagan in middle school because he could sense something was going on with Tommy’s dad much like his own.

But Eddie liked to remind Wayne that Eddie is often considered undeserving and he took him in and gave him multiple chances regardless.

“You wanna smoke?” Eddie asked, despite knowing he barely has anything left after the long week of midterms for students. His busiest times of year were right before school breaks, midterms, finals, and graduation weekend. He usually stocked up, but with Rick being in prison again, he had to try to stretch what he had out.

“Uh…smoke what?”

“Weed.” Then it hit Eddie that maybe Steve was into harder stuff. But he hadn’t ever even bought from him in high school. Tommy had, Carol had, almost everyone at his parties had, but Steve never did. “I have regular old cigs too if you prefer.”

“Yeah, man, cool,” Steve sighed with relief.

“I got a spot behind the cafeteria if you wanna…”

“Sure, yep, let’s go,” Steve nodded, gesturing towards the double doors that led outside to the cafeteria and auditorium buildings.

As they walked, Eddie’s mind raced with thoughts of being alone with Steve, Steve’s arm brushing against his, Steve pushing him against the wall of the cafeteria, of Eddie dropping to his knees and unbuttoning Steve’s pants and-

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there.”

Steve’s voice shook him from his thoughts, but his dick didn’t quite get the memo. When did he even start getting hard?

“No worries, dude.” His face scrunched in disgust at calling Steve dude. What was next, the bro pat on the back? A fist bump? “Kinda jealous of how protective you are of your girlfriend.”

Okay, actually, what the fuck? Eddie needed to shut his fucking face, right the fuck now.

“She’s not my girlfriend, but uh, I don’t think you’re really her type either,” Steve gave him a look, one Eddie knew well and one he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing on Steve’s face right now.

“Right, right.” Eddie wouldn’t make him say it, especially if it was actually the look he thought it was, but maybe he could offer a little something in return. “Yeah, she’s not really my type either.”

Steve stopped just before they reached the hidden area behind the dumpster and picnic table for staff to smoke.

“Really?” Steve’s eyes were wide. “So you’re more into…someone like…me?”

Eddie was actually leaking into his goddamn boxers. Why was he getting turned on just talking to Steve?

“That would be one way of saying it,” Eddie said. Still easy enough to back out of it, at least. Could just say he likes women who wear polos and use more hairspray than Melvald’s has ever carried at any given time.

“Huh,” Steve continued walking to the picnic table, sitting on top of it and kicking some dirt off the bench by his legs for Eddie to sit. “So those rumors were true?”

“That depends on if I’m gonna make it back home to my very loving uncle if I say yes.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I’m not gonna judge you about it when my best friend is-” He cut himself off and Eddie had to give him major credit. The Steve he used to know never would’ve cared if he outed someone, or at least never would have realized that was wrong. He coughed and then looked down at the bench. “You gonna sit?”

Eddie sat down on the bench, extremely close to Steve’s legs. Almost touching. Was that heat coming from his body or was Eddie just extremely warm?

“Did you actually wanna smoke or did you just wanna get out of the hall?” Steve asked after another minute of awkward silence.

“We can smoke.” Eddie reached into his pocket, hating how tight his jeans were in the front, and grabbed his lighter. His pack of cigarettes were usually stored in his van because he rarely smoked them, but luckily he’d brought them with him all week to sneak smokes between classes. He pulled one out and handed it to Steve.

He started to light his own when Steve leaned down, his face right next to Eddie’s, breath hot on his neck.

“You aren’t gonna light it for me?”

Eddie whimpered.

He would deny it a million times over if anyone asked. He almost had himself believing he imagined it.

But Steve laughed and backed away, pulling out his own lighter and giving Eddie a second to catch his breath.

What the fuck was that? Did Steve know he was making Eddie’s brain flatline?

He watched Steve take a long drag out of the corner of his eye, his mind shuffling between ‘what if he fucked me right here?’ and ‘get the hell away before your dick pops a hole in your jeans.’

Steve’s lips were so pink, and looked so soft, and just wet enough from licking his lips before taking the next drag, and Eddie was really going through it right now.

He’d gone through his Steve Harrington phase just like everyone else, thought it was over when he graduated. Had avoided the mall all summer when he heard he was working at Scoops so he didn’t have to see him in those tiny blue shorts. Had even gone so far as to avoid being around when the kids were being picked up from Hellfire because Dustin mentioned Steve was his ride.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Except for Eddie’s imagination was impressive, and his late night thoughts turned into very vivid scenes of Steve working him to the edge and making him beg, or pushing him against a locker and making him take his cock with barely any prep, or-

“Dude, anyone ever tell you you’re kinda space-y?” Steve’s voice once again lifted him from his thoughts, though he felt a bit hazy.

“Think I’m comin’ down with something,” Eddie squeaked out. All he was coming down with was a sickness deep in his chest: Harrington Heart-itis.

“Did you hit your head?” Steve sounded concerned now, setting his cigarette in the ashtray left on the table and moving so he had one leg on either side of Eddie. His fingers landed in Eddie’s hair, pulling his head closer and inspecting it for injury. “I didn’t think anything but your shoulders hit, but maybe-”

“No,” Eddie gulped. He should pull away. “Didn’t hit my head.”

Steve’s fingers tightened, not quite painfully, but enough of a bite to it that Eddie whimpered. Again.

Steve’s grip loosened, but his fingers stayed buried in his curls, and Eddie felt pressure guiding him to rest against Steve’s thigh.

“You eat today?” Steve asked, though his voice sounded kinda far away, like he was above the surface of the water and Eddie was sitting at the bottom of a pool looking up at the sun. “Eddie?”

“Hm?” Eddie blinked up at Steve. “I ate.”

“When?” Steve’s hand was cupping his cheek. “Lunch?”

“Mmm, no,” Eddie shook his head, blinked. “Breakfast? Cereal.”

Steve cursed under his breath.

He was so pretty. Had he been told how pretty he was? Surely when Nancy was with him, she told him.

Even if Robin liked women, she had to at least notice how pretty he was, right?

Steve’s sharp intake of breath somewhat centered Eddie.

“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” Steve whispered, leaning down so his face was only inches away.

Eddie could kiss him. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lift his head the final two inches to make their lips meet.

“Eddie, eyes open,” Steve’s fingers tightened again, gaining Eddie’s full attention. “Should I call someone? Are you dynamic or something?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed. What did that even mean?

“Like the sugar thing?” Steve continued.

“Diabetic?” Eddie still felt a little hazy, but he was starting to come back to it with Steve’s hand migrating from his hair to his shoulder. “No, my sugar’s fine.”

“I’ve got some soda in my car. I can drive you home and then bring you to school in the morning. You probably shouldn’t drive like…this.”

It all came crashing down when Eddie realized how vulnerable he’d just been, how he’d actually lost track of time, not sure exactly how long he’d been sitting between Steve’s legs with his hands in his hair before he started coming back to earth. He stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, rocking a bit before finding his balance.

“Woah, take it easy.” Steve held his hands out, grasped his biceps to hold him steady. “You were pretty far out of it. Don’t rush it.”

How fucking embarrassing.

Eddie had only gone down that far one time with someone and they got freaked out when he was giggling and couldn’t walk on his own because his legs felt like jelly. But that had been on purpose. This was- Steve didn’t– Jesus Christ.

“I’m fine now.” Eddie was not fine. He knew what would happen if he left right now. Aftercare was a major part of this whether Steve was prepared for it or not. “Just, um, walk me to my van.”

Steve looked like a kicked puppy, but Eddie didn’t have the time to explain all of this to him.

Steve Harrington didn’t know how much of a freak Eddie was even if he did know he was gay. There’s no way Steve participated in any type of BDSM with the many girls he slept with in high school.

There was absolutely no fuckin’ way Nancy Wheeler let herself get tied to a bed and get fucked by Steve.

He shook his head at the thought.

“I’d feel a lot better if you let me drive you. I promise we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Steve sighed. “I just don’t know if you should drive when you went down so hard.”

“You have no idea what even happened,” Eddie argued, pacing back and forth. “I can drive. I just need to walk it off.”

“You don’t walk off subspace.”

Eddie froze. Steve was standing right in front of him now, concern in his big, stupid, adorable eyes.

“How do you even know about subspace?” Eddie whispered.

“I slept with half the high school and two guys in Indy. I know what subspace is, Eds.”

Eddie must still be in space. Or maybe another galaxy.

“Sorry, did you just say you slept with two guys in Indy?” Has Steve seriously fucked more guys than Eddie has? Eddie, the resident gay man of Hawkins, has only been with one man in his entire life and Steve has apparently slept with two?

“Well, I wasn’t gonna sleep with two men in Hawkins!” Steve threw his hands up before putting them on his hips. “I hit up a gay bar and didn’t realize it doubled as a BDSM club until I was already in it and then a nice guy showed me the ropes. Literally. There were ropes involved.”

Eddie snorted. Steve was pretty and funny. Great. Just what he needed.

“I have a quick recovery, so I’ll be fine to drive home,” Eddie tried, though even he could hear his voice still shaking.

“No one is that quick,” Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a hug. “Has that ever happened before?”

“Not like that.”

“We should probably talk about it.”

The last thing Eddie wanted to do was talk about how someone playing with his hair and moving his head around while showing the bare minimum of care was enough to send him into subspace, but he had a feeling Steve wasn’t gonna give up easily.

“Fine. What should we talk about? How no one ever touches me gently so the moment someone did, I slipped? How I’ve been avoiding seeing you anywhere in public because I knew it would make my crush come back full force? Oh, I know!” Eddie laughed hysterically as he pulled away. “Let’s talk about how I still think about you in your stupid basketball shorts when I’m fucking myself on four fingers, which is never enough because I can never reach the spot I need to. Or how I once cut out your yearbook photo to keep for jerking off material because my mags weren’t enough. Could even talk about how earlier I wanted you to put your leg between mine so I could rub off on you. Or maybe the weather if you’d prefer that.”

Eddie was panting, could feel the heat on his face rising as he realized everything he’d just said, admitted, to Steve.

He’d never said any of that out loud. Shit, he’d barely said most of it in his own head.

Steve’s arms were pulling him in and Eddie let himself have it, let himself feel small for just a moment. If Steve wasn’t completely disgusted by what he said, then he would at least accept this offering of kindness for now.

They stayed like that for a while, long enough that Eddie started to wonder if he could just live here, right in Steve’s arms.

“It’s looking a little cloudy,” Steve said quietly, hands still rubbing Eddie’s back slowly.

“What?” Eddie still felt a little out of it, but that was entirely out of left field.

“You said we could talk about the weather.”

Eddie snorted. “Oh my God, you’re so-” Eddie looked up at Steve, who was smiling down at him. He felt off-kilter, being the object of that particular Steve look. “Stupid.”

It was fond, probably too fond for someone who needed to protect himself from whatever the hell was happening. He needed to shut this down.

“It’s been mentioned,” Steve’s eyes flickered down to Eddie’s lips, then back up to his eyes. “You good to head out?”

Eddie started to nod, but stopped.

This was his only chance. He wasn’t dumb enough to think he’d ever be alone with Steve again. If he was gonna kick start a spiral over feelings, he might as well go all out.

He stood at his full height, almost eye level with Steve, and leaned in.

The kiss was not even close to perfect. In fact, as far as kisses go, it was probably in the bottom three for Steve. Eddie chose not to think about how he screwed it all up.

But once the initial shock wore off, and Eddie put his teeth away, Steve’s hand cupped Eddie’s cheek and he licked past his lips.

Leave it to Steve to turn this around, make it something worth the risk.

Their lips moved in sync, both of them deepening the kiss without making it too wet, too filthy for a public space.

It was, dare he say, romantic.

Most kisses Eddie had managed to have were dirty and rough, hidden away in dark bars and alleyways, not exactly prime teen romance.

Of course Steve was good at this, of course he made Eddie melt against him, and of course Eddie was going to start writing hearts around Steve’s name in his notebook as if they were high school sweethearts.

When they pulled apart, it took him a minute to open his eyes. How stereotypical.

Steve was already looking at him, softer than he probably deserved.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Eddie breathed out.

“It’s been mentioned.” Steve’s lips turned up in a smirk before he pulled away completely. “Let’s go.”

They walked back through the school, stopping at Eddie’s locker to grab one of his textbooks as if he actually would use it. By now, he didn’t really need the textbooks to get his work done. And he was actually committed to getting it done this time around.

They were quiet as they continued out to the parking lot, only a few cars belonging to teachers left, maybe a few students stuck here for football or basketball practice. Steve’s car was towards the back, but Eddie’s was almost all the way in the grass field by the main road. It was less risky leaving it further away, less likely that anyone would slash the tires or key the side.

“You’re sure you can drive?” Steve asked as they stood outside his car.

“Yeah. Only five minutes to the trailer. It’ll be fine.” Eddie shrugged like it was nothing, but he was actually a little worried the kiss set him too off balance to focus on the road. Fuck the subspace, Steve’s lips were like discovering a new galaxy.

“Can I call you later? To check on you?” Steve seemed hesitant to ask.

“Uh, yeah? Do you…have my number?”

Steve shook his head, opening the door to his car and reaching into the glovebox to find a pen and an old receipt. As Eddie wrote down the number to the trailer, he thought about how much worse this would be tomorrow, how shitty it would be to have had this absolutely out of this world experience with the one person he never thought he could and then be left with scraps for the rest of his life.

“You uh, you don’t have to call, man. Don’t feel pressured. My uncle will be home so it’s not like I’ll be alone.”

Steve took the paper and pen back, folding the paper and putting it in his pocket and throwing the pen back into the car.

“I’m gonna call.” Steve moved a piece of Eddie’s hair from in front of his face. “You got a phone in your room?”

“No, but the one we have reaches to the bathroom?” Why the hell did he need one in his room?

“Good. Need you to be alone.”

“Steve, what the hell does that mean?”

“How else am I supposed to tell you what I wanna do to you?”

Well, fuck.

Day two: ao3 | tumblr

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 10

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Song inspo for this one is “Caught In the Balance” by Toto!

Word Count: 5,300 Tags/Warnings: Violence, hints of past trauma, hurt/comfort, angst, and a (mean) cliffhanger...

Part 10: Caught in the Balance

“Christ on a cross,” Ben muttered. 

He was just trying to start his morning with some huevos rancheros. 

He hid behind a mask of impassiveness, while his stomach turned at the sight of the open cooler Frank had been forced to show him.

Saul’s bloody severed head was stored inside. Ben had asked for a report on the man’s reconnaissance mission, but this was a bit thorough. 

“Black Noir took out his entire unit,” Frank informed him. His tone was stoic, as usual, but his dark brown eyes betrayed his solemnity.  

Ben shook his head and peered inside. “I fucking figured…yep, that’s Noir’s handiwork all right.”

The cut was clean at the neck—sliced by a blade. 

Unfortunately, that was when you entered the kitchen in search of breakfast. Ben looked over at you, taking in your matching purple pajamas with a hint of a smile. Your hair was a bit messy, your face still tired with sleep. 

But when Frank swiftly snapped up the cooler, you still raised a perceptive brow.

“What’s that?” you asked. Ben shared a brief glance with Frank.

“Just some steaks for later,” Ben replied. You didn’t look convinced, sniffing the air with a grimace. 

“Is that why it smells like a meat locker in here?” you said. 

After you grabbed a mug of coffee, you took a seat at the far end of the kitchen island. It left an open seat between you and Ben, and he noticed the distance. 

“What’re Saul and Loco up to today? Think they’d be up for some Texas Hold’em?” you asked Frank.

He shook his head and tucked the cooler under his arm. 

“They’re on a job,” he said.

You warmed your hands around your coffee mug and nodded. “Ah, yeah. Trying to figure out how Black Noir pulled a Lazarus?” 

Both men stared back at you, confirming your assumptions. 

“You do realize this begins and ends with your buddy, Stan Edgar,” you said, turning to Ben. “Vogelbaum was his chief geneticist, the Head of R&D during your time. But Stan was the Steve Jobs to his Wozniak. Together they created Homelander.” 

Ben didn’t know who the fuck you were talking about there, but he got the gist of what you were saying.

Stan had played him from the beginning; he’d masterminded what went down Nicaragua, replacing Soldier Boy with Homelander, creating him in some petri dish with Ben’s DNA.

Now, it seemed Stan was partnering with the CIA to take him down. He’d even brought that cunt Noir back to life to do it. Also, likely, with the help of Ben’s DNA. (Well, probably Homelander’s, but that was still partly Ben’s.)

He couldn’t let that fucking stand, now could he?

His hand fisted on the counter, next to his forgotten plate. His brows fell over his eyes as he contemplated. He knew what he had to do next, just not exactly how he was going to do it.

“I’m gonna have to cut the head off the snake,” Ben mused out loud.  

You watched him wearily, hiding a measure of concern at the darker shift in him.

Ben nodded at Frank and the cooler still under his arm, dismissing him. “We’ll talk later. Take care of that.” 

Frank went with a nod, leaving you with Ben in the kitchen. You frowned. 

“If you go back to the U.S., especially to New York, they’ll have a much easier time finding you,” you pointed out. 

Though part of you kicked yourself for doing so. An idea was forming in your mind, and it could just mean your freedom…

And that was when Ben looked over at you once more. His eyes were guarded, more so than they had been with you of late. 

“Why do you care?” he asked snidely. “You’ve barely said two fucking words to me in days.”

Which was true. You’d been carrying your grudges and your anger, both at him and at yourself, and your own conflicting emotions ever since you’d arrived at this new house. 

The effects of V24 had long washed out of your system, but it still stung—that that poison had saved you. And so had these men, who had kidnapped you in the first place.

Shaking your head, you frowned at him to cover up your ongoing internal circus. 

“Because you’re about to go on a fucking warpath. With, I imagine, a lot of collateral damage in store,” you replied, maybe more sharply than you’d intended. 

Ben’s green eyes were dark and narrowed. 

“There’s that self-righteous fucking tune,” he said. But his next words cut into you like so many knives. “You’ve been a fucking lapdog your entire life. Doing whatever daddy, Vought, or the CIA tells you to do. So remind me, why the fuck do you care so much about what I do, huh?”

For a moment, you were speechless. 

Soon enough though, your shock melted into an angry glower as you tried to hide how much that actually hurt you. 

A harsh breath expelled through your nose. Maybe he expected you to blow your top, like you usually would. Because that had worked so well at getting through to him in the past. 

So instead, you tried to go with what seemed to work before.

“I didn’t used to,” you replied honestly. It seemed to make him pause, a little.

“When I joined the S.A., it was just my chance to break away from Vought,” you continued. “But…I don’t know. The more out of control supes we took off the street, the more I felt good about it. The work that I was doing.”

You let out a sigh, glancing down at your hands still wrapped around your cooling cup of coffee. 

“You were right before, about me. I was part of it too. I helped cleaned up Vought’s messes. I made their supes look good, behind the scenes,” you said. “But I’m trying to do something that matters. Something honest, that actually makes people safer. It makes my family safer.” 

That fell between you two for a while. Ben seemed to take it with his usual stoicism, but you knew him well enough by now. He’d been listening. 

And eventually, he spoke. 

“Then you should be grateful,” he said. “Noir. Stan. Vought. All those cocksuckers…I’m going to take them all out for fucking good.”

Are you, really? You couldn’t help but wonder. He’d been successful with Payback, and Homelander (with help from Butcher and Hughie). 

But Vought was a machine. It had been an institution for decades. A multibillion conglomerate with a thousand and one hydra tentacles of ways to fuck people over…but if anyone was powerful enough to try to bring it all down, it was Soldier Boy. 

Still, power isn’t everything. You thought of how he’d lost control against Noir, and how he’d blown up a hole in your bedroom ceiling and couldn’t remember much about it afterwards. Ben was still a mess. 

But you considered a world where Vought couldn’t create supes anymore, like pop tarts coming out of the damn toaster. You considered what Ben could accomplish, now that he was properly motivated to end his six-month sabbatical. 

And you considered what would happen if you helped him do it.

This is not the time to be reckless, the more rational part of your mind reminded. 

And yet, you just had to continue following the impulsive voice that had led you for weeks.  

“You can’t just run at this head on, guns blazing,” you told him. “Stan’s too smart for that.”

Ben eyed you with guarded interest. 

“You look like you’ve got something in mind,” he said. 

You nodded, though your lips pursed. You hated this idea, even though it had been growing since this conversation began. And you couldn’t even believe you were suggesting it, really. 

“We can get into Vought under the radar, if you let me make a call,” you said. Ben’s expression tightened. Yours did too, with the beginnings of anxiety.

“Who do you need to call?” he asked.

 “My father,” you replied. 

As Stan Edgar’s Chief of Security, Jon didn’t often receive calls from phone numbers he didn’t recognize. Certainly not to his personal, blacklisted cell phone. He took the call into his personal office and shut the door behind him.

He answered it with a healthy measure of suspicion, “Hello?”

The last voice he expected to greet him was his eldest daughter’s. 

“Hey. It’s me,” you replied. 

Jon’s expression slackened. He sat down heavily at his desk, and your name fell from his lips in disbelief.

“You’re alive,” he said in genuine wonderment. “I thought…I thought you were dead.”

Your response was dry. “Before or after you sent Black Noir after us?”

Jon frowned, shifting back in his chair.

“That was Stan’s call,” he said. “There was no sign of you in any of our reports.”

“Then you weren’t looking very hard,” you said. 

Your tone was matter-of-fact, unyielding. It was so like you that he had to smile. 

“If nothing else, you were ambitious going after Soldier Boy,” he said, rubbing his chin. It reminded him that he needed a shave. “I should’ve known you were still alive…it seems I taught you better than I thought.” 

On the other line, you had Ben’s cell in your hand while you spoke to your father on speaker. Ben and Frank were both in the room with you, sitting in chairs on either side. Frank suggested this conference room beside the study to conduct the call.

However, you tried not to look at either man while you tried to focus on getting through this.

“I managed to grab a phone from one of my guards,” you said into the speaker. “I can’t reach out to the CIA. They think I’m a damn turncoat at this point. But if you really want Soldier Boy, I can tell you where he’s going to be.”

“…Where?” Jon asked.

You glanced up at Ben before you replied. He gave you a nod. 

“He plans to be in New York in three days.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said wryly. “To find Black Noir. It’s all he’s been moaning on about. He’s kind of a simpleton that way. Tit for tat on the vengeance beat.”

Ben gave you a dark look for that one, but you ignored him. 

“Well, I can certainly give him a meeting with Noir,” said Jon. His voice shifted into that calculating tone you knew all too well. “That, and much more.”

“Good. Give him a big enough distraction, and I can lose his crew,” you replied. 

There was a beat on the other line. You and your companions waited, for his agreement, for some kind of confirmation, but he didn’t give you that just yet. 

“Are you all right?” Jon asked. “How’s your sister?”

Your lips pursed. “Clearly, I’m peachy. Are you in on this?” 

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll help you get out of there, don’t worry,” he said. He almost sounded like a father. It made anxiety crawl up through your lungs, into your throat. 

“It’ll be good to see you,” he added. “What’s it been, a year? More?”

You swallowed your unease. 

“Let me make this clear,” you said. “This is just business. If you want to help me, fine. But don’t make it more than that.” 

There was another pause, a heavy sigh.

“Oh, believe me. I know you wouldn’t be calling unless this was your last resort,” Jon said. 

You tried to swallow, and found resistance. 

“Good,” you said. “I’m glad we have that understanding.”

“See you soon,” he said. You ended the call afterwards. 

Both men had been monitoring you throughout the exchange, but it was Ben’s gaze you felt, hot across your profile. Even now, he watched you behind impassive eyes. You wished you knew what he was thinking. 

Regardless of things you’d said when you were angry, Ben knew too much about you now. There was no way he didn’t see it—how you were putting your all into keeping yourself together. 

You stared back at him, but he didn’t ask if you were all right. He just nodded.

“Are we done?” he asked.

You scoffed, hiding your disappointment, and maybe the beginning of tears burning in your eyes. You blinked past them with an unsettled breath. 

“Yeah,” you replied. “We’re done.” 

Ben watched you get up, and you let the cell phone clatter on the table before you left.

Late that night, Ben wandered the dark halls of this house. He was trying to familiarize himself, and remember why the hell he bought this gaudy thing. 

It was another big, empty shell that didn’t have much life in it—even less than the last place in Medellin. At least that one had character, surrounded by the mountains and wildflowers. 

This house, while beautiful, felt stale; like an old photograph in sepia tones.

He found himself stopping outside your door. It was late, and he couldn’t hear your TV on, so you were probably asleep by now. If he stood close enough to the door, his superior hearing could just make out your soft, even breaths.

He knew you were pissed at him, but really, he thought you were being a bitch about it. 

I fucking saved her, he thought sourly, and not for the first time. She should be fucking grateful I lifted a finger.

But then, he remembered just how pale you were when he found you in the helicopter, after the blast, and after he made his escape. Ben saw how wide your eyes got when you saw what had hurt you—that giant fucking piece of wood embedded in your body.

He remembered the sound of your scream, blood on his hands. He could feel your life slipping through his fingers…and for once, he wasn’t okay with letting it happen. 

So he stopped it. Or at least, he ordered Frank to do it. 

And afterwards, Ben couldn’t believe how you turned on him. That you were actually angry at him for saving your life!

What kind of idiot are you. He’d wanted to grab you and shake you until you saw good sense. 

You were stronger on V. You were powerful, almost his equal. And Ben could admit, if only to himself, that he craved that: having an equal. 

When he’d had Countess, that bitch, he thought he had his life sorted. He’d figured he had time to settle, to have a family…

But now that life was gone. His asshole team was gone. What the fuck was left?

Ben leaned against your door, as if he could brace against the depths of thoughts he hadn’t allowed himself to fall into since he left the U.S. 

Still, he couldn’t help but think…after he became a supe, he’d reveled in standing alone, in the spotlight. When did it start to get harder?

Just then, his sensitive ears picked up on something: your breath hitched. He paused, listening closely. Soon enough, he heard a whimper. 

Ben debated for a few seconds, but he decided to open the door, quietly twisting the knob and pushing it open. His eyes found you in the dark, curled in on yourself on the bed.

He drew closer until he reached your bedside, and even heard your pulse starting to race. His lips drew into a frown as he read the distress in your features. You were dreaming, and whatever it was, it didn’t look pleasant. 

Ben hesitated, but he kneeled by your bed and carefully slid your hair away from your face. You were an angry, stubborn, mouthy little thing. He could just hear your voice now.

You still haven’t even apologized!

The audacity you had, to demand shit from him.

But then, he almost sighed when he realized he was glaring down at your sleeping form.

What the fuck’re you doing, anyway? He shook his head at himself and got up to leave, but your voice stopped him. 

It was a pained whimper, a shuddering breath. Ben’s attention shifted back to you as he watched you tighten in on yourself, your hand curling into a fist that pressed against your throat. He didn’t know if you were trying to choke yourself, or fend someone off—

And then, Ben had to struggle against a firebrand of anger under his skin. 

He finally realized what you were probably dreaming about; who you were fighting, even in your sleep.

He regretted letting you call your father. Maybe he even regretted pretending he didn’t notice…how talking to your dad had clearly fucked with you. 

But he wasn’t about to show weakness. Not in front of his men…

With a quiet sigh, Ben reached out and soothed a hand over the top of your head. His fingers slid through your loose hair, stopping when they reached some tangles. Slow and careful, he repeated this. Until finally, your breathing seemed to ease up.

He unclenched your fingers out of their loosening fist, and he absently stroked his thumb over the back of your hand. You’re one deep sleeper…

You sighed and shifted in your sleep, resting your cheek easier on the pillow. Your brows were still knitted, but after a while, even your face relaxed. 

Ben placed your hand down, giving the back of it one more tentative swipe. 

And then he left, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. You never woke up to catch him.

A helicopter took you from the house to a private jet with Ben, Frank, Loco, and a few other hired men for the mission. You sat across from Ben, both seats facing one another. Your eyes were narrowed as you watched him accept a glass of whiskey. 

“Where’s Saul?” you asked. Ben gave you a side glance, and with a quiet exhale, he answered you. 

“He’s dead.”

You nodded through your sad, angry frown. You’d had a feeling that was what he and Frank had been hiding the other day, but you hadn’t wanted to face it.

“Black Noir?” you asked. 

Ben nodded and sipped at his whiskey. “Yeah.”

“Do you even care?” you asked. Ben eyed you a bit sharper, but he didn’t comment. 

“A couple of knocked banks didn’t get you this jet, on top of everything else,” you remarked, gesturing at your surroundings. “Where’s the money coming from?”

He’d bought back at least two properties from Vought, along with all the other shit he’d likely been blowing his money on for the last few months. 

Ben sipped at his drink. You imagined it was hard for him to cross his legs in his super suit, otherwise he might’ve, to complete the air of asshole-ish nonchalance. You’d decided to dress comfortable, but prepared in yoga pants, sneakers, and a matching activewear jacket. 

“Why do you think I settled in Colombia, of all places?” he asked you. His lips curved into a smirk and he shot you a wink. “Best drugs in town.”

His assets were frozen by the government, which meant he’d gotten the money from somewhere…

Your face soon fell as you realized your own stupidity. The shady characters he’d recruited, not just Frank, Saul, and Loco, but other men too that would occasionally traipse through the house. Plus the mysterious “jobs” they would routinely disappear on, sometimes for days on end. 

Ben had infiltrated a drug cartel. 

“Frank and his men were the muscle for some hot-shot kingpin, until I cut the head off the snake,” Ben revealed. “Which is what I’m about to do to good ole’ Stan.” 

You crossed your arms with a deep frown.

“Every time I think I’ve got you figured out, I discover a new scum-ridden layer,” you said. 

His lips quirked humorlessly. “Disappointed?” 

You just shook your head and looked out the window of the jet. 

“Mostly in myself,” you replied. 

Ben didn’t show how your words sunk into him. He continued drinking. 

Hours later, you all arrived at JFK Airport in New York. The jet landed far enough away from the larger commercial planes, but somehow that made you even more nervous. 

You felt like you were stepping out into the Wild West as you disembarked from the jet and landed on the concrete ground of your home city. 

Ben’s presence burned behind you, guiding you with a hand on the small of your back. Frank and Loco had the bags (and weapons). But before you could ask where to go next, Ben paused with a thoughtful frown on his face. 

You opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, but then you heard it. A thin whistling in the air that couldn’t be attributed to an aircraft.

Ben pulled out his shield from its sheath on his back, and with his free hand he grabbed you, yanking you into his chest. He all but dragged you several steps away from the jet and then kneeled to cover both of you when a missile soared overhead.

It speared into the jet, destroying it with an epic explosion that seared across Ben’s back. He felt the heat, but it only singed the back of his neck without even burning his skin. His suit and helmet protected him from the rest, just as his shield and body protected you. 

You could claim to hate him all you wanted, but your hands were braced against his chest as you leaned into him. And when you looked up, your eyes were wide with shock and fear. 

“Go,” he ordered, pushing you towards Frank. You went with him, but you still looked back at Ben as worry undeniably claimed your heart. Loco and the rest of his team stood behind the supe.

Meanwhile, Butcher had appeared on the tarmac. With a rocket launcher, naturally. 

He wore a smirk along with one of his customary, glaring Hawaiian shirts and long black trench coat. The hem of it fluttered as the wind blew between the long span of distance between him and Ben. 

“So the CIA’s partnering with Vought now? How does that fucking work?” Ben remarked. 

Butcher was joined by Hughie, Kimiko, and Frenchie, and then entire units of CIA and SWAT teams piling out of several armored cars.

“I’ll admit, you’re a tricky bugger to track down,” Butcher said. “But consider this your debt to fucking society paid in full.”

He launched yet another projectile from his gun. You gasped, but even though Frank pulled you towards the airport building and away from the fight, you still craned your head back to watch Ben bat away the missile with his shield. It landed far away, spilling concrete where it hit and shaking the ground. 

Then a warning star bolt hit in front of Frank’s feet, stopping both of you short. You looked up and found Annie and M.M., the latter with an impressive gun in both hands.  

“Stop right there, motherfucker,” M.M. ordered. “Time to let her go.”

“You okay?” Annie asked you. You had to smile, despite yourself. 

“Yeah. It’s good to see you guys,” you said. Frank’s hand tightened on your arm, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you from leaving his side. He was stronger than usual once again, with the help of V24. He wielded his own gun trained on M.M. 

“Step aside,” he ordered.

Annie pursed her lips at shot a star bolt at him. You took your opportunity and kicked at the back of Frank’s knee. It made his grip falter just enough that when M.M. jumped in to fight him, you scrambled away and Annie took your hand. 

While the two men fought, you finally noticed the black sedan the pulled up on the tarmac behind you. The tinted driver’s window rolled down, revealing your father in black sunglasses. 

Annie followed the path of your gaze in confusion. “Who the hell’s that?”

“Annie,” you squeezed her hand. “You know I’m your friend, right?”

Her brows furrowed, especially when you let go of her. “What’s wrong? What’re you about to do?” 

“I need you to trust me,” you said. 

You knew she didn’t understand, nor did she want to let you go. But you ran away from her, towards the car. She meant to follow you, but Frank held M.M. at bay long enough to aim a few well-placed bullets between you and Annie. 

It stopped her long enough for you to climb into the black sedan before it peeled away, speeding around to the private gate of the airport. While you caught your breath, Jonathan’s gaze peered at you through the rearview mirror, after he lowered his sunglasses. The car was empty except for you and him. 

Good, you thought. That meant he was the only one you had to watch closely.  

“Are you all right?” he asked. 

“Just fine,” you breathed. “Where to now?”

“Let’s get you to safety,” Jon said. You nodded. And when his focus was back on the road, you discreetly retrieved a tracking device from your pocket and placed it on the side of your seat, hidden from view. 

Ben had given it to you before getting off the plane. 

The device was small and flat, with a smooth back that would attach to almost any surface. 

You rolled it experimentally between your fingers and looked up at Ben. His face was harder to read than ever.

“Why are you trusting me with this?” you asked. 

Ben’s lips quirked wryly, but there was little humor in it. His hand, half-covered by his glove, reached up to brush your chin. 

“I’m not,” he replied. “I expect you’ll jump at the chance to get back with Butcher and your asshole friends. But either way, I’m gonna find out if you were worth it.” 

You frowned up at him. It was hard to believe that for all you two had been through together, this was really how it was going to be from now on. 

“If I was worth saving?” you challenged. 

He didn’t answer you, but his hand fell away from your face.

The car soon made its way out of the airport and onto the open road. There you were greeted by the familiar highways and approaching skyscrapers of New York City. You would be relieved to be home (almost), if you weren’t so tense. 

“I need to see Stan Edgar,” you told your father.

Jon’s gaze met yours in the rearview. 

“I have intel that he’ll be interested in,” you said. 

“Okay, and that is?” he asked.

“About Supe Affairs, Soldier Boy, take your pick. But it’s the kind of information you don’t play Telephone with.”

“Mr. Edgar is a busy man,” Jon started to say.

“And you’re his Chief of Security,” you cut him off. “Who’s wiping his ass while you’re here with me?”

Jon sighed. “Always with that fucking mouth. Do you want me to relocate you? Put you in a safe house until we finish dealing with Soldier Boy?”

And give your father abject control over your life? I think not, you glared at the thought. 

“I want to speak to Stan. I don’t care if it’s here, or Vought HQ, or in the middle of Times fucking Square. Take me to his damn office,” you demanded. 

Maybe Ben had rubbed off on you a little. 

“Or pull over right now, and I’ll make my way to the Tower myself,” you said. Jon came to a red light and had time to regard you in disbelief.

“Jesus…all right, let’s see if Stan will see you,” he said.  

You let out a breath and finally allowed yourself to sit back in your seat. When the light turned green, Jon took the correct fork in the road that would lead you to Vought Tower.

And before you left the car, you made sure to grab the tracking device from the side of your chair, carrying it with you into your bra.

It was strange to enter this building again. You had worked here for five years, but it had been a year and a half since you’d returned. 

It was still as busy as ever in the halls. Though you noticed the ratio of employees to tourists was about 30-70. It was incredible what taking out Vought’s golden psycho could do to a company’s profits.

Now they just needed to put the final nail in the coffin. 

Jon led you to the elevator, and all the way up the Tower to Stan’s office. You had only been to this room once, when you were hired, but it was more or less how you remembered. Very spacious, minimalist furniture in a desk and a slim couch set, complete with a long glass coffee table. 

But Stan was nowhere to be found. You frowned. 

“Where is he?” you asked. Suspicion and awareness pricked at your spine. 

You turned around to face your father, just in time to slap away something metallic headed for your neck. 

It was a syringe. You watched it spin across the floor, and you glared back at him incredulously. He had enforced his will on you before, but he’d usually managed that with his hands, not with drugs. Maybe Vought had changed him too.

“All right, easy,” Jon said, raising placating hands. He drew closer as you backed away from him. 

“I had a feeling Soldier Boy let you go,” he said. “That you’d probably planned this little bait and switch with him from the beginning.”

Heat made your cheeks flush as you glared back at him. Your father quirked a smile.

“Despite what you’d like to believe, I know you better than anyone,” Jon said. 

You begged to differ on that…but part of you knew he was right.

“You did what you had to do with Soldier Boy. I understand,” he said. “Playing both sides of the game was smart. But I’m going to make sure you’re safe.” 

“By sedating me?” you shouted. Your voice quivered, both with rage and fear. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

He knew that you’d tried to play him, but his mistake was thinking you’d been playing Ben too. 

“Later we’ll talk. When you’ve calmed down,” Jon said. 

He reached out to grab your arm, but you evaded him. He called your name in warning.

You just got into a defensive stance. And the next time he tried for your arm, you snapped back with a fist to the bridge of his nose. It sent Jon’s head back with a grunt. 

When his hand came back bloody from his nose, his demeanor shifted, from placating to stern. His cool gaze met yours, and you stared back at him stubbornly, poised for a fight. 

“You little brat,” he said, wiping his nose again. “I fucking pulled you out of the fire, and you’re being difficult. As usual.”

“You didn’t save me,” you retorted. Emotion burned in your eyes, but your anger (and a frisson of fear) allowed you to clamp it down. “You never have.” 

You shot out a preemptive strike, but your father surprised you by grabbing your wrist. And he backhanded you hard enough to make you see stars. 

AN: 🫣 Welp, we're back in the U.S. SB is storming the castle, but at what cost...

Next Time:

A moment later, Frank patched through while he struggled and fought.

“She needs help,” he said gravely.

Ben took his hand off the comm, gritting his teeth. Black Noir was still waiting on him, attuned to Ben’s every move as the other supe brandished one of his blades.

Shit, Ben thought. He needed to end this. 

Right fucking now.

Keep Reading: PART 11

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[paperbackribs]

A Tarnished Copper Boy (6)

Previous | Next | Ao3 Last chapter, Eddie grappled with his worry for Steve, who had left behind a bloodstain before disappearing, followed by Tommy accusing Eddie of wanting Steve in the present.

Chapter 6: A Home Situation

Eddie stands at a white basin in the boys’ bathroom, the empty space smelling like urine and industrial-grade antiseptic while the fluorescent lights beat down from above. Staring at his wrists under the running water, he can almost see the angry pulse under his skin as it subsides to a sluggish beat under the cool, soothing stream.

Snaking a wet hand to rest against the warmth radiating at the back of his neck, he begrudgingly admits that even cooled, his anger remains an uneasy churning in his gut. Still sick at the dirty urge to let loose his wrath on Tommy and violently strike him back at the lockers during their fight, Eddie can’t help feeling that he’s failing at being a good person.

Yet, the exercise in controlling his temper works somewhat, allowing the bitter beast inside to settle, clasping its tail back in its mouth and greedy eyes falling close. He's staring in the mirror, wondering why the repulsive creature isn’t reflected in the deep brown of his eyes when he hears an incriminating and familiar moan.

Whipping his head to the right, there at the far end of the stalls, Eddie sees a familiar pair of white Nikes, upside down with a scuff in the shape of Italy on the right heel. A shape that Eddie had memorised weeks ago.

There’s still a part of Eddie’s mind that’s back there spitting at Tommy; mix those flying accusations with a boy crouching in a toilet stall and for a breathless moment Eddie thinks that Steve is in there, on his knees, with someone.

Then Steve lets out a soft, low noise followed by the unmistakable sound of retching and splashing, and the world rights itself again.

Steve Harrington is not giving a blowjob in the stalls of Hawkins High.

Eddie will have to wait until later to unpack all the mix of emotions that that misunderstanding threatens to unleash, he’s too exhausted from this day already.

“Steve,” he ventures, calling out softly so as not to spook him.

“Piss off,” rasps Steve, quickly followed by a retching sound.

The noises fade as Eddie pauses silently outside the stall, palm resting on the door but unsure about whether it’s right of him to intervene. He thinks that even if he hadn’t known Future Steve then Eddie would still have chosen to ask after him, he may have nearly crossed a line today but he’s not a total animal.

The niggle of worry that has become a constant companion ever since he’d seen blood on his bedsheets decides him. “Come on, man. Let me in,” he says rather than walking away.

Eventually, the Nikes draw back and Eddie pushes on the door; the wooden surface meets the stall with a subdued thunk. Propped against the opposite wall, Steve warily looks up at Eddie, handsome face looking like it’s been put through a meat grinder. His full lips are split, and that patrician nose has a raised welt across it.

However, the brunt of the injury was clearly taken across the left of Steve’s forehead, a long gash striking crimson against a bloom of bluish-purple skin, swollen and painful looking.

A bolt of alarm strikes through Eddie, in front of him is an injured Steve once more. Maybe not actively bleeding but certainly hurt and, if his unfocussed gaze is anything to go by, possibly concussed.

Steve blinks one eye at a time, “Hey Munson, welcome to my stall. Take a seat.” The anxiety settles a little, if he can still bitch Eddie out then he’s not too far gone.

Eddie settles against the door frame, arms crossed and runs his eye over the rest of Steve, searching for any limbs that look wrong. “Heard you ralphing, Harrington. Congrats, do you know the sex yet?”

Steve rolls his eyes and Eddie wonders whether it’s painful considering his bloodshot eyes, “Why, you want to be the daddy? Piss off, Munson.” The tired ache in Steve’s voice belies the potential venom in the words and, after Tommy’s vitriol, Steve’s attack seems cute. Harmless as a hissing kitten.

Eddie crouches down in front of him and holds out three fingers, “How many, big boy?” Steve’s eyes wobble and he squints and, really, that’s enough of an answer. “Okay, have you got rid of it all or, if I pull you up, are you going to spill your guts on my shoes?”

Steve frowns, two little creases appearing above his busted nose. “I’m fine,” he mutters.

“Uh, huh.” Eddie ignores the blatant lie and pushes his arms under Steve’s pits, hauling him up with a grunt.

Before he’s even thought to release Steve, the other boy starts to tilt and Eddie tightens his clasp, gripping his back suddenly to support his frame. Steve’s hands settle on Eddie’s biceps and Eddie smells the not-so-seductive breath of eau de puke, but he’s more concerned that Steve has suddenly turned an unsettling shade of green, already planning on flipping him around before Eddie ends up covered in vomit.

Which, honestly, seems like it’d be a fitting conclusion to this day.

Steve takes a slow, deep breath and the green fades into a sallow complexion. He swallows, looking up from the blank stare he’d had fixed on Eddie’s chest. “I’m fine,” he insists, “Just prop me on the seat and I’ll be right as rain in a minute.” Steve tries to tack on a reassuring grin, but it looks wonky to Eddie.

He almost sighs, unsure whether Steve has a complete lack of awareness of his situation or whether the other guy’s instinct simply runs towards martyrdom. Because, right now, he clearly needs to be under professional supervision.

“Sure, Steve,” Eddie says dryly. “But first, let’s go for a quick ride to the hospital.”

Steve shakes his head and then looks like he immediately regrets it, “No, Mom won’t like it if it gets out that I’ve been in a fight again. She had words to say after I got into it with Jonathon.”

Eddie guides Steve out of the stall, taking it slow but steering him towards the outside door so that he can absolutely take Steve to a doctor. “I’m sure she’d rather you be safe and well than about to pass out in a public bathroom.”

Steve is silent for a loaded moment before responding in a strangely sober tone, “No hospital.”

Well, today seems like it's destined to be one long trip down memory lane for Eddie. He thinks back to a much smaller version of himself avoiding the teachers, making sure sleeves were long and answers reassuring. Knows that insisting is only going to have him with a Steve that runs away from the help that he sorely needs. Worriedly tries to remember what that first aid book says about concussions.

All he can remember is brain damage and thinks of a compromise on the fly. “Then how about the nurse’s office? If she pulls a Ratched, I’ll protect you.”

Steve chuckles softly and allows himself to be pulled down the hallway, “I get that one. Eleventh grade, Mr Bower.”

Eddie takes it as a good sign that Steve’s brain isn’t completely broken and concentrates on supporting him to the nurse’s office, which is thankfully close by.

As they push open the door to Nurse Morgan’s room, Eddie is soothed by the natural light pouring through the open windows and the friendly informational posters pinned to the walls. Grinning cartoon characters advise them to WOW if they have a headache.

Eddie thinks that Steve probably needs more than water, oxygen, and to wait, but what does he know? Especially by the way Steve is wincing at the sunlight pouring over them. Eddie has read one thin first-aid book and feels woefully underprepared for a wobbly Steve in his arms.

Nurse Morgan sits in the corner of the cheerful room, dark hair pulled back in a loose bun and clad in a sensible, cotton-blue dress with white flats. Seeing them, she frowns while immediately moving forward to support Steve on the other side of Eddie.

Together they manoeuvre him further into the room. Eddie glances over at the raised medical examination bed and Nurse Morgan shakes her head, looking at Steve’s unsteady form. “No,” she says, soft voice melodic and firm tone reassuring. “Sit him down on the chair over here. He’ll find it easier to get in and out of it than trying to sit unsupported and at a height.”

“He can hear you, you know,” Steve's voice is dry, and he only slightly winces as he settles into a chair with raised arms. Despite the tone, he slumps gratefully back. He looks up at Nurse Morgan, “I’m fine, but Eddie won’t let it go.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows; he thinks that’s the first time Steve has ever called him something other than Munson. At least this version of him.

“Okay hon,” she reaches over, gently tilting his head up to look into his eyes. She holds them wide and with an efficient click of her small torch shines a light into Steve’s eyes and flicks it away. She pulls out a blood pressure cuff, fixing it around Steve’s upper arm and sets it to inflate. “What’s your name and what happened?”

He tells her his name followed by some bullshit about getting into a fender bender in his car last night. Eddie thinks it’s a lie because Steve had done that little flip of his eyes. He’s not sure whether Nurse Morgan buys it or whether she’s just used to the mysteries of teenage boys, but she clicks her tongue at the results on the machine. Afterwards, she holds a forefinger and middle finger over Steve’s inner wrist while counting down the seconds on her watch.

“Okay, Steve. Have you ever had a concussion before?”

Steve’s eyes look a lot clearer already and he makes sure to stop himself before shaking his head, “No. I mean, Jonathon got me pretty good last time, but I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as a concussion.”

Eddie vaguely remembers a beat-up Steve last year after a scuffle with Jonathan Byers. Thinking of Dustin saying that his friend’s brother Jonathon had said Steve helped them fight a monster with a nail bat, Eddie wonders whether today is another moment in Steve’s war. Eventually he resignedly decides that it isn’t his place to say or do anything about it either way. Butterflies.

She eyes Steve doubtfully, “Any gaps in your memory? Moments in the past twenty-four hours that seem a bit fuzzy.”

Steve snorts, “I wish.”

“He was throwing up in the bathroom when I found him,” Eddie rats him out, which earns him a mild glare from Steve. Eddie shrugs back at him, unrepentant.

“Okay,” Nurse Morgan wraps up her equipment, “It’d be best if you get to the hospital, you need a scan to make sure there’s no serious swelling—”

“No,” Steve interrupts, firmly polite. “I’m not going to a hospital. What do I need to do at home? Rest? Maybe take an aspirin?”

She purses her lips in disapproval, looking over to Eddie for support but he just shrugs and shakes his head. He already knows where this fight is going because Steve is apparently quite the stubborn son of a bitch.

“No medications or driving, and definitely no alcohol, but yes,” she adds reluctantly. “Rest and have your parents monitor you tonight, any increase in symptoms you go to the hospital immediately, okay? That means feeling dazed or nauseous, if you’re having difficulty concentrating or any sudden mood swings then you need to go see a doctor. Other than that, yes: rest and fluids.”

“Thank you, Nurse Morgan. I’ll make sure to do that.”

Eddie almost laughs at Steve’s deceptively innocent expression, like he hasn’t just stubbornly weaselled his way out of going to the hospital and gotten exactly what he wants. Nurse Morgan turns to Eddie, making sure to have him repeat her instructions and then promise to pass them on to Steve’s family.

“I’ll make sure he gets home safe,” Eddie assures her, but Steve mustn’t think he means it because even though they leave the nurse's office and walk out to the carpark together in unspoken agreement—Steve walking unsupported and Eddie hanging back by an inch or so in case Steve gets unsteady again—he still looks surprised when Eddie plants himself in front of the driver’s door of Steve’s maroon BMW.

Eddie sticks his palm out with a placid smile, “Keys, please and thank you.”

Steve folds his arms over his chest, “No.”

“I’m not asking, Steve. Hand them over; I’ll drive you home. Make sure you don’t crash your surprisingly unmarked car and then get out of your magnificently buoyant hair. Deal?”

Steve assesses him for a moment but must understand Eddie’s willingness to draw this out as long as he needs to: Steve’s not the only persistent one around here. He rolls his eyes and his lips fall into a half-pout, “Okay, but be careful with her. Any hint of a scratch and your ass is grass.”

Eddie gleefully plucks the keys out of Steve’s hand, “Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome to my ass if I so much as breathe wrong on her.” Eddie thinks he has a choking sound and, lowering himself into the driver’s seat, he worriedly looks over at Steve. But Steve only falls into the passenger side, refusing to glance over at him.

Eddie shrugs, as long as Steve’s not about to puke he can do whatever he wants.

To Eddie’s surprise and respect, David Bowie starts playing from the cassette player as soon as Eddie turns the key. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Stevie.” Steve rolls his eyes, turns the volume down low and ignores him to rest his forehead against the cool glass of the window.

Eddie flicks the indicator and turns onto the main road, more careful than he’d usually take the corner in his van. No need to rile Steve up while he’s in such a delicate position. He snorts to himself, thinking of Steve lying flat out on the school floor yet still having it in him to ask if Eddie wants to be the daddy. The Steve he’d come to know at home has shown a sly sort of humour but, honestly, he had half suspected that it was a quality he’d grown into.

The surprise Eddie felt at the idea of Present Steve wielding a nail bat returns, perhaps what he thought he knew about preppy King Steve had never been a true reflection of the person sitting quietly across from him.

As they travel closer to Loch Nora, Steve stirs to give him directions to his home. Eddie soon pulls into the driveway of a looming large house, painted a terribly drab grey, and framed by carefully shaped round shrubs on neatly trimmed grass. Eddie contemplates the scenery for a moment, “Your front yard is full of balls, man. How do you live with yourself?”

Steve barks a quick, startled burst of laughter, looking over at Eddie in surprise. Eddie grins back at him, moving to step out of the car “Just calling it as I see it.” Steve’s eyes sparkle in amusement as he exits and rounds the car; he heads towards the raised dais next to the front door. “You want to call for a ride?”

Eddie rolls his eye behind Steve’s back at the entrance being a double, how much space do the Harringtons need? “Yeah, thanks. And are your folks around? Or here soon? I can wait until they return before leaving.”

Steve unlocks one side of the door, pushing it open and revealing an open area that leads to a staircase. The wooden floors are a polished walnut, and the walls are washed over with a greyish beige, studded with what Eddie assumes are tasteful paintings on opposing sides of the foyer.

One is an uninteresting landscape of a lighthouse amongst the waves of a dark and stirred ocean and the other is an abstract of a disembodied yellow body offering… an avocado? Eddie’s head is still tilted trying to work it out when Steve holds up the handset of a mustard-coloured phone resting on the sideboard.

“I don’t know what is either, man. But, uh, you’ll want someone to come now.” Eddie takes this to mean that someone is home or is expected shortly. He calls Jeff, who promises to be there in fifteen minutes and turns around to see Steve now perched on the staircase; his eyes are dark and watchful as they consider Eddie. “Thanks for helping me. You didn’t need to, but it was nice of you.”

Eddie flushes slightly, Steve in any timeline is apparently ready with a compliment on hand. He looks away for a moment, shoving his hands into his pockets and thinking it over, “Pay me back by telling me what really happened? I don’t believe that crap about the car for one minute.”

Steve eyes Eddie for a heavy moment and Eddie wonders whether he’s about to hear about a demogorgon attack. “Billy Hargrove didn’t like the idea of his little sister dating one of the kids I babysit, Lucas.” He pauses before saying meaningfully, “Who’s black.”

“Ah,” Eddie says quietly, thinking about the rage roiling beneath Billy’s skin on a good day, let alone when that may be targeted against someone specific, someone probably younger based on what Steve’s describing, a boy vulnerable against an older, stronger man. An earlier version of Eddie stirs, filling him with quiet approval for the protector across from him, who had stepped up at a vital moment.

“And you, what? Used your head?”

Steve snorts as if despite himself and Eddie allows the graveness that had started to rise in him fall away, preening a little. He can feel an addiction forming to making Steve laugh. Not the worst drug to be hooked on, he assures himself.

“I should’ve,” Steve admits, leaning back on his elbows with a rueful expression. “No, he smashed a plate against it though.”

Eddie sucks in a breath, looking at Steve’s bruised face anew. “Jesus, Steve.”

Steve cracks his neck, looking uncomfortable. “It’s fine, and the kids are okay, which is the main thing.”

“Fuck, how many rugrats were there?” Eddie wonders whether Dustin was present for the violent scene. No kid should have to see the kind of brutality that comes from Steve’s face looking like it’s been pounded in on like that, but there’s no way he can ask Steve. Eddie has no rational explanation for how he knows of the connection.

Steve counts on his fingers, “Four? But, if it helps, his sister is the one who took him down. She’s a quick thinker and pretty fierce too — I wouldn’t want to mess with her.” Admiration flickers in his expression but soon a shade passes over it, darkening his face. “Max says she’s okay to be in the same house as him, but I’m not so sure.”

He looks up at Eddie with a searching look, as if he trusts him to have the answer, “I don’t know what to do for her. Am I even allowed to do something?”

Eddie sighs at the myriad of issues that lay under the deceptively simple question. He moves to settle next to Steve on the stairs, their thighs pressed up against each other in the narrow space. Keeping his eyes facing forward, Eddie offers the only advice he can give, even if it is hard-won. “I’m not sure, but you can continue to check in on her. It sounds like you’ve formed a bond, maybe even that she could trust you?”

He stares at the stained glass above the door, counting the different shades of pink and orange, but sees Steve eventually nod silently in the corner of his eye, gaze fixed on Eddie’s profile. But Eddie can’t talk about this while looking at Steve directly, it’ll rattle the tight chains around the serpentine beast too sharply. “Sometimes, in situations like that. Home, you know, situations. You just need to keep checking in, make it clear they have someone safe to turn to if they need it.”

Steve’s knee presses against his own briefly. “Okay,” he says, “Thank you.”

Eddie feels there’s more weight to Steve’s thanks than an appreciation for his short bit of advice. He imagines he hears an understanding or, at least, a willingness to understand in the coloured tones of his words.

Eddie shakes it off, slapping his knees with enthusiasm and goofily rolling his head towards Steve with a smirk, “Now where can I pass on Nurse Ratched’s instructions?” He sends out a silent apology to Nurse Morgan for his slander.

Steve steadily regards Eddie for a long moment, eyes flickering over his like he’s trying to unlock whatever is going on behind them. “That’s okay, I’ll pass on the message,” he replies calmly.

Eddie squints at him, a suspicion forming. “Where are your parents, Steve?”

Steve abruptly stands, hauling himself forward with minimal shakiness compared to earlier in the day and pulls open the front door pointedly. Through it they see Jeff’s boxy green Dodge Omni pull up to the curb, he waves a hand to Eddie through the driver’s window.

Eddie holds his palm up, silently asking for a moment. He walks over to face Steve but doesn’t exit through the door, “I can’t leave until I make sure you’re going to be okay.”

“That’s nice of you,” Steve repeats, “But I’m good.” He looks out at Jeff, “Your friend’s here, thanks again, Munson.” Ouch, regulated back to last name status already.

Eddie shifts back and forth on the balls of his heels; he doesn’t feel right about leaving Steve behind. It wasn’t that long ago that he’d been unfocused and puking his guts out. He looks better now, but it was clear from Nurse Morgan’s instructions that Steve’s condition can turn pear-shaped if left unmonitored.

“I’ll stick around until your folks get home,” Eddie hedges, trying to find a compromise.

Steve’s voice cools and he guides Eddie out the door with a firm, but gentle hand to his lower back, “That’s good of you, but I’ll make sure they know what to do.” He must read the anxiety in Eddie’s face because he tacks on, “I’ll hunt you down tomorrow so that you can see I’m still as healthy as a horse.”

Eddie barely has the time to nod his head in reluctant agreement before the door shuts in front of him with a quiet click. He stares at the embellished silver door knocker, worried that he’s about to make a terrible mistake.

It stares unhelpfully back and Eddie lets out a gust of resigned air, turning away from the cavernous Harrington home to climb into the car waiting for him.

Jeff glances over at him curiously, “What were you doing at Harrington’s place? Dealing?” Eddie nods tiredly, “Something like that.” He dredges up a more genuine smile, Jeff had done him a solid by coming out here. “Thanks for coming to get me, man.”

He smiles back, “No problems.” Pulling away from the curb, Jeff drives them towards school so Eddie can retrieve his van.

Eddie barely sleeps that night, turning and tossing on overly warm sheets and an aggressively flat pillow. Visions of a passed-out Steve dance through his head, followed by the darker image of blank eyes and a pool of vomit underneath him. The next morning, he careens into the carpark earlier than usual and restlessly paces near the front doors until the first bell is about ready to ring.

Rivers of students pass by him, the sounds of morning chatter and teens shouting out across the carpark mixing into a maddening muddle of sound. Just as he’s contemplating driving back to Loch Nora and banging on Steve’s door until he answers, a familiar maroon BMW pulls into the car park.

If it weren’t for his busted face, Steve would look good as he approaches the school in his tight-fitting jeans and flattering blue polo. Eddie watches him closely for any signs of a wobbly gait, but Steve strides confidently across the concrete, navigating around huddled groups of students dawdling before class.

He spots Eddie as he nears the door, faltering in place. Eyes locking with Eddie’s across the sea of students, Steve looks hesitant and almost like he's in need of a shield. As if yesterday had exposed a weak and vulnerable side that he’s afraid Eddie will take advantage of.

The school bell rings loudly above them and Eddie stops himself from walking forward, giving Steve his protection by staying away. He must understand somewhat because Steve tentatively smiles, nodding carefully before joining the moving throng through the wide doors into Hawkins High and leaving Eddie behind.

Blankly staring across the parking lot, Eddie thinks about Steve possibly sharing more yesterday than he’d meant to and spots a navy blue Camaro as it obnoxiously roars into the parking lot. Cigarette smoke pours out of the open windows before Billy steps out, pausing to check his hair in the side mirror before locking the car. He looks unscathed from what Eddie can see in the distance.

He turns away into the emptying corridors before Billy sees him staring, deciding that he’s not annoyed with Steve for protecting himself by walking past Eddie, but he is angry. It’s not the first time that Billy has stirred the bitter serpentine beast inside him, the injustice of the whole situation unfurling into a rising wrath.

It makes him feel a little reckless, tight chains unlocking and guiding his path later that afternoon, the parking lot empty after lunch while students study in a classroom that Eddie should be sitting in as well.

It justifies his actions into a logical defence that this event is separate from Steve’s tourist path in time, because Eddie was always likely to strike at some point considering his continuing resentment against Billy Hargrove and his casual cruelty.

Walking steadily past Billy’s precious Camaro, keys clenched between his knuckles and stretched out just far enough to reach the side of the car, Eddie can’t stop his grim smile from spreading as a small and mean joy fills him. A nice long scratch against the formerly pristine paint job can’t fuck up the timeline, but, thinking of Steve lying on the bathroom floor, hurt and weak, it feels goddamn satisfying.

It settles the beast somewhat too; revenge filling in parts of the cracks while the sight of Steve walking steadily around school seals the rest. As he watches Steve heal day-by-day relief settles in his chest: Present Steve is alive and he’s okay. Now, Eddie can go back to tracing that damned blood stain left behind on his bedsheets.

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

Tag list:

My tag list is always open, so let me know if you want to be added. Likewise, if you want to be removed, let me know. :)

@bookworm0690, @child-of-cthulhu, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @finntheehumaneater, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @gutterflower77, @hallucinatedjosten, @just-a-tiny-void, @ledleaf, @littlewildflowerkitten, @manda-panda-monium, @mightbeasleep, @nburkhardt, @newtstabber, @stillfullofshit, @tartarusknight

[morganski-19]

WIP Wednesday

this is the first letter in my Ronance letters au, "With A Comma After Dearest". It will take place after season 4 and the first part will be posted next Saturday the 23rd.

Robin,

Hey, I just wanted to check up on you. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to hang out that much, I’ve been really busy with the newspaper. We have so many stories to write about the “earthquake” that I’ve been working overtime just to get all of them edited. Really it’s so annoying, especially since we know what happened. I just want to go back to writing stories about the mystery meat, as much as it pains me to say that. 

But anyway. I really did just want to check up on you. Our schedules don’t really align that much but when I pass you in those halls, you look so alone. Not to say that you don’t have friends or anything. But I know that feeling of just wanting to isolate yourself after what happens, and I know you have Steve to help deal with all of this. I guess I just wanted to make sure that you knew you could talk to me too. 

I’ll leave my number on the bottom in case you don’t have it. Please feel free to call me anytime, really. I want to be there for you. 

From,

Nancy

(P.S., my locker number is A350 if you want to respond. No pressure though!)

[the-archangel]

Samurai Rising

Kerry doesn't seem to have the right temperament to work in the service industry, so how on earth did he get on along on that cruise ship?...

“You, waiter! My steak is overdone, it’s a disgrace!”

The waiter, tall, dark and cute rather than classically handsome, walks smiling over to the couple’s table, “I’m so sorry to hear that sir,” he says with a formality edging on sarcasm, “I’ll get the kitchen to cook another immediately.”

Unsure as to whether he is being mocked or not, the irate man shoves the plate at the smiling waiter, “Well, good!” he shouts unnecessarily loudly, “And make it fast, we have friends to meet at seven.”

After an ingratiating nod, the waiter disappears through the doors to the kitchen, throws the meal – plate and all - noisily into the trash and sits on a counter lighting a cigarette that he pulls from behind his ear, “Steve, that fucker at table four’s send the food back again, says the steak’s not cooked right this time.”

“Shit man, that’s like, the third time this week. What a dick.”

The other man nods in agreement, “Mhm, he tips fuck all as well, think it’s time to add some special sauce?”

The waiter watches from the countertop as the cook carefully prepares another steak making the sauce as it rests, then hops off to join him at the hob grinning as both let a gobbet of spit dribble into the pan, a quick whisk later the sauce is poured over the meat and the plate taken to the waiting diner. “About time, you’ll wait while I see how this steak is cooked.” A knife is pulled through the centre of the meat which is split apart and examined closely, the man cuts a slice, uses his knife to slather it in sauce, and pops it into his mouth chewing thoughtfully, “Much improved,“ he announces haughtily, “I shall not have to speak with the Captain about this after all.” and with a wave of his hand he dismisses the smirking waiter.

Bursting back into the kitchen he pulls off his jacket – it’s the end of a double shift and he’s fit to drop, “Nice one Steve,” he tells the cook on his way through to the lockers, “he loved it, stupid fucker!”

“Preem work Kerry, you coming to the Golden Mermaid later?”

“Nah, shit to do, see you tomorrow.”

The cabins are small but comfortable enough, all Kerry needs is a space to dump his stuff and to play his guitar and it’s fine for that, he’s had an idea buzzing around his head all day and just wants to get it down before it evaporates, but there’s something to deal with first.

His phone had been buzzing away in his locker all afternoon, 8 missed calls and 13 messages all from some guy he’d met briefly a few times before he left, if he didn’t know better, he’d say the guy was hot for him, but he’d made it quite clear that he liked chicks over dicks despite the way Kerry had sometimes seen him looking at him when he wasn’t aware.

They’d talked about starting a band, joking at first but increasingly seriously. They were both into music and guitars, Kerry had talent, Johnny (the other guy’s name) had charisma, it could work, but Kerry had been down to take this job for months, his first after school, so the ideas were put on the backburner until he got back, except,

“Kerry, call me back you fucker, I’ve got us a gig but it’s on Saturday, THIS Saturday, like four days from now, I need you here.”

Kerry sighed, the job was supposed to be a three-month stint over the summer, to tide him over between high school and college, but it’s five weeks in and he’s seriously over it. On the other hand, it took his dad a lot of pulled strings to get him this gig, he was a pretty good kid but his parents could see he had the potential to slip into trouble with the guys he was hanging with, so this job was the perfect solution, could he really give it up for a pipe-dream?

He picks up his guitar and angrily strums out the tune assaulting his head, reaching for some paper to note down the words swirling around his brain. He plays on well into the early hours despite the blood on the strings from his still tender fingertips, finally falling into an exhausted sleep a couple of hours before his morning alarm.

-

Johnny was basically feral. Once caged, he was now free to roam the streets and cause chaos wherever he went, which he did with much enthusiasm. He’s only three years older than Kerry, but has fit being a soldier, a prisoner and a pariah into that time. Disowned by the family that never paid him much mind anyway, he found his way to Night City and to a party somewhere in Japantown where a 17-year-old boy is entertaining the crowd, playing classics on his guitar. Johnny usually affects a style of being disinterested and aloof, but this guy is interesting, playing tunes Johnny loves, captivating the party goers with his already husky singing voice and charming them with his banter and big, brown, puppy-dog eyes, he wants to know him better.

 A crowd gathers to talk to Kerry when the music stops, he’s especially popular with the young men at the party Johnny notes as he cuts a swathe through the crowds and curls a silver arm around the musician’s neck, “Sorry guys, he’s coming with me,” he tells the disappointed crowd pulling a perplexed Kerry into a quiet corner of the kitchen.

“What the fuck?” Kerry hisses as the pressure on his neck is released.

Johnny shrugs and offers the other man a cig from his packet and a swig from his tequila bottle, calming him somewhat, “Preem playing, do you write your own stuff too?”

“Yeah, a little, bit rough around the edges still but getting there.”

“Yeah, same,” Johnny agrees, “maybe we could work on some stuff together?”

Kerry looks Johnny up and down taking in the straggly hair, attempt at a beard, wiry frame, startlingly intense hazel eyes and finally the chrome arm, “What happened?” he asks looking the arm over with his head cocked to one side.

“Shit mostly.” Johnny answers seriously before breaking into a grin making the other man chuckle. They spend the next hour or so in each other’s company talking about music, classic bands, favourite musicians and albums, trading numbers before Kerry is once more swallowed up by his attentive crowd.

Over the next few weeks they meet up a couple more times. In Johnny’s tiny one-room apartment they jam into the early hours, smoking but barely talking just feeding off each other’s riffs until Johnny finally announces that he’s going to bed leaving Kerry to either crash on the floor or leave, he chooses the latter. The last time they met was the day before Kerry set off for the ship, Johnny had tried to persuade him to stay with promises of a band, a tour, fame and all the groupies he could eat, but it was a dream, stuff like that didn’t happen to guys like them.

Kerry is beginning to think that maybe it should.

-

On breakfast duty the following morning, Kerry curses as he wipes a smear of blood from his ruined fingertips off the side of a saucer before putting it on the room service trolly. He’s tired and he hurts and he’s in no mood for pissy customers. He hates going into rooms when people are sleeping or just getting up, feels like he’s interrupting private moments, and indeed sometimes he is, sometimes he watches, sometimes (one time) he joins in, but this time a pleasant older lady takes the tray, puts some eddies into his hand and he moves along. The morning progresses unremarkably, people are kind, people are asses, same as every other day, by lunchtime he’s decided; the boat docks in six hours and he’s getting off and high-tailing it back to the City.

“What you looking so happy about?” Steve asks as Kerry throws the fussy diner’s plate into the trash once more.

“I’m getting out of here today, made up my mind, going back to the City.”

Steve looks at him incredulously, “How the fuck you getting to Night City from New York, it’s nearly three thousand miles?”

Kerry’s eyebrows briefly knit together, he had saved his pay and his tips and had a little tucked away from before, but it was going to take every enny he had to pay for that flight home. Seeming to brighten he tells the cook, “It’ll be fine, booked a flight, be back home in time for dinner.”

But where was home? He couldn’t go back to his parents all his friends were still living with their own parents, there was only one option…

After the call, Johnny sat on his bed looking around his tiny apartment, there was barely any room for his own crap, but Kerry had promised that he didn’t have much stuff, just a couple of bags and a guitar, so it could work for a while. They’d have to double up in the bed, pondered the Rockerboy, but he rarely spent a night here anyway so it shouldn’t cause a problem.

As the sky begins to darken, threatening a coming storm, he takes his car to the airport and waits by the arrivals board, there’s ten minutes til Kerry’s flight lands so he needs something to occupy himself, the bar opposite may be the perfect thing. By the time Kerry has made his way from the plane and reclaimed his bags, Johnny is deep in conversation with an attractive flight attendant and only the insistent buzzing of his phone alerts him to the other man’s presence.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“Jeez, what are we married now?”

“Shit Johnny it’s been a long day, stop being an ass and come take me home.”

“Ugh, fine, give me a minute.” He gives the attendant his number and stumbles out of the bar, finding Kerry by the exit, “You’re gonna have to drive, I’m flat out drunk,” he tells the other man before climbing into the passenger seat and slumping towards the window, they make it home but he rarely asks him to drive again.

-

With two days to go until the gig, Kerry and Johnny are interviewing potential band members in a bar around the corner from their apartment. Nancy is an easy pick, she brings a portable keyboard and can play any of the classics they throw at her and picks up their original stuff straight away, they let her hang around whilst they search for their drummer.

Potential drummers file in hammering at the kit set up on the stage, but none have quite what they are looking for being either too sloppy, too heavy or, in one case, too drunk to climb onto the stage. Johnny is getting agitated, they’ve got less than an hour until the bar opens and they get thrown out, more file in and out until a tall, beautiful woman walks deliberately up to the kit without giving them a second glance and belts out a perfect set. The sit staring at her for a moment, Kerry is the first to recover, “That was some preem drumming, you want in?”

She looks them up and down sucking air in through her teeth, “Sure, I’ll give you a go.” She says nonchalantly as she joins Nancy at the now open bar.

“Shit, one of us will have to play bass until we find someone,” Johnny drawls, clearly not keen on the idea.

“My guy plays,” chips in the new drummer, “I’ll bring him along to the rehearsal, see what you think?”

“Sure,” the boys say together, and there it was, Johnny and Kerry’s band, so far without a name.

-

Later that afternoon in a friend of Johnny’s garage space, he and Kerry are trying to think up a band name whilst waiting for the rest of the band to show, “What about ‘Johnny and the Moondogs’?”, suggests Johnny (of course).

“Don’t think so, no, ‘The Frantic Elevators’? ‘The Hype’?”

“Nah, need something with more edge, how about ‘The Rattlesnakes’?”

Kerry is still looking incredulous when Nancy comes in closely followed by the new drummer and a slightly dishevelled guy who must be her boyfriend, they are all chatting animatedly and seat themselves on the various bits of crap dotted around the space before looking expectantly over at the dilapidated couch where Kerry and Johnny sit waiting.

“So, we’ve got tonight and tomorrow to rehearse enough songs for a forty-five-minute set,” Johnny explains to his bandmates, “We’re on stage at nine, a hundred eddies a piece, any questions?”

“Will we get free booze?” the drummers boyfriend pipes up.

“Sorry choom, I doubt it. What do we call you by the way?”

“He’s Henry, and not that either of you ever bothered to ask but I’m Denny,” the drummer offers cooly.

Kerry looks suitably embarrassed while Johnny continues his speech, “So far we’ve got three original numbers ready to go, another two that need work, and a shit-ton of covers we could fill in with, be better if it was all originals though, let’s fucking do this.”

It’s the early hours when they finally sit together again, sharing a cig whilst Denny packs her kit away. They can now boast four tight originals, another in the works and a couple of covers that should blow the audience away. “What’s this band called anyway?” Nancy asks as she huffs out impressive smoke rings that seem to hypnotise Henry especially.

“Dunno,” Kerry admits, “We were talking about it earlier, need something memorable, something with an edge.”

“What about ‘Samurai’?” she drops in casually.

The boys look at each other grinning, “Yeah, Samurai. Thanks Nance, fucking perfect.”

-

The next morning, apart from Johnny and Kerry who never left, nobody quite makes it for the 11 AM rehearsal time, Nancy and Denny turn up at half-past and Henry is still nowhere to be seen at 2, but the boys have already put together a tight set. They’ll start with the chugging intensity of Hostility, Brutality to get the crowd going, followed by the mellower Seven Virtues, then the one that Johnny can see being a hit, Blistering Love, it’s heavy with plenty of chances to show off their individual talents on stage, a slightly psychedelic WIP that they hope to finish today that might be called Binocular Eyes is next, a couple of classic covers and finishing with the song Kerry wrote on the ship, Bleed the Beat, a vitriolic stomper guaranteed to leave an impression.

Overall, they’re feeling pretty pleased with themselves, but they are by no means ready and the afternoon is stressful with both Kerry and Johnny having firm ideas of what should be happening and when, generally they are in accord, occasionally they bicker but it’s nothing to the blazing row they spectate over when Henry finally rolls up at two-fifteen clearly higher than a kite. Denny marches him outside to have a ‘conversation’ and the rest of the band sit on the broken couch sharing a joint and watching the fireworks. Fortunately, it turns out that he can play better stoned than when he’s sober, so by early evening they’re ready to pack up and make their way to the Red Dirt bar in a borrowed van. Denny and Nancy make a banner of the band’s name in the back while the boys sit up front, full of nervous excitement, laughing and chattering about how big they’re going to be, how rich, how famous.

They are the middle of three bands that night, the best position to be in Johnny tells the others as the audience are warmed up by the first band, but not yet jaded. Sitting nervously by the bar Kerry looks out over the crowd as they cheer and dance to the opening act’s music, will they even like what Samurai has to offer if they’re happy enough with this scop he wonders, visions of the audience staring at them with silent incomprehension float across his mind, he guzzles his beer to chase them away.

Johnny has no such doubts, he’s nervous sure, but a healthy, buzzy kinda nervous, he just wants to get up there and give the audience what they’ve been waiting for all this time. If they don’t like it then, shit, they’ll just go find an audience that does.

-

The first band leaves the stage giving them just fifteen minutes to set up their gear and perform a quick sound check. Nine o’clock arrives, Johnny and Kerry look over at each other and grin, “We are Samurai,” Johnny screams over his mic to the crowd, “prepare to be fucked!” and they launch into the uber-heavy first tune.

It passes in a blur, the playing is the best they’ve done, the audience love them and are already screaming their names, everything is vibing and they come off stage drenched in sweat but ecstatic. Johnny is using an old towel to wipe his face when a guy from the club offers them another gig later in the week, Kerry is flirting with a guy who caught his eye from the stage when the manager of the Rainbow Cadenza offers them a gig the following weekend.

Sitting at the bar, slurring slightly from the celebrations, the five of them congratulate each other and drink to the future. Tonight has been an absolute blast, the best of his life, but there’s no way it can carry on forever Kerry muses, so he’s determined to grab every opportunity with both hands and make Samurai the most fucking awesome band ever for as long as it lasts, however brief that may be.

[grave-queen-jakrabitt]

Why pro wrestling magic is one of the best things in New Jersey

Look i’m gonna be upfront… this is just gonna be me gushing for however long this takes you to read but assuming you’re a Wrestling fan already I gotta spread the word.

PWM has been running for a long time but I am a new fan. Their past season was the first one I watched in full they have an off season around august. But this season brought a ton of amazing players and storylines.

First of all prolific FUCK HARD, respectfully, this season mostly had Isaiah wolf fighting his own partner Ruthless Lala after she got possessed by the spirits of the ancestors. Leading to an amazing last one standing match which ended in a draw but mark my god damn words it’s their year, doesn’t matter if it’s wolf, lala, Tyree Taylor or markus marquee, someone is getting gold and the year will be prolific.

But honestly the amount of groups in pro wrestling magic that rule need to be studied. You have prolific obviously, but you also have hispanos unidos led by the og ROH talent Azreal, stressed and depressed is also there, then my second favorite group project mayhem.

Speaking of project mayhem let’s talk about genuinely my favorite story out of this company, the implosion of project mayhem. Notable indy vet smiley ended up in control of the company and was rather hostile. Taking the dark arts title off of Steve off. Until Steve battled back, at which point smiley shifted his attention to shane fair and just being an ass. Trixie the manager of project mayhem gets fed up with his shit and it turns into a “mommy and daddy fight” leaving vi Daniels and Eden in the middle conflicted. They hold onto their titles but Eden becomes increasingly frustrated with smiley, he refuses to injure someone and as Vi does Eden goes off telling him he’s not smiley. As the vendetta against Shane fair continues trixie tells smiley he won’t have anyone if he does this basically having an intervention but it falls on deaf ears. Until a one ring war games match for control of the company. Smiley has vi and Eden by his side until he goes too far, shane fair is untrained and fucking diabetic and smiley wants Eden to help take him out. A moment of thought before Eden kicks smiley in the fucking face, and Vi who was probably the most indoctrinated by smiley joins eden, vi unmasks himself and the two walk out together. Project mayhem lives, it breathes, and continues without smiley. They would go on to keep hold of the junior tag titles for a few defenses before losing in a fatal 4 way tag match to stressed and depressed. They started number 1 in the tag title unification gauntlet beating The Rep, Surviving SAD, and then dying fighting till the end to the combined 800 pound team of monsters known as meat locker.

But that’s not the only banger they have, if you’ve been watching the northeast indys for a while you probably know about the meadowlands monster, or el oso blanco bruno. He is one half of an amazing rivalry turned tag team, turned rivalry again with jon tella. Now admittedly the whole rivalry pre team up is something I haven’t seen yet but commentary does such a good job explaining it that you don’t really need to see it all immediately. Bruno turned on tella again before a match with meat locker sacrificing the tag titles in the process, which probably still hurt a little as death row were the longest reigning champions. They had a contract agreement so they couldn’t touch. In a grudge match tella got revenge.

Let me tell you about someone else to keep an eye on, Troy Locke. He’s a ball of rage with technical skill just waiting to break someone into bits, he will suplex and roll you into dust. He’s already held junior heavyweight gold in pro wrestling magic but he really could go anywhere. I straight up cackled when he was booked to take on donavan.

[mccallofthewild]

@slvttybvys

Continued from here.

Stiles was indeed good with his mouth. There was a certain talent that came with his hyperactivity and oral fixation even without having an overwhelming amount of experience. And when Steve's towel fell off in the locker room, he knew that it was finally time to take care of the tension that had been drawing tight between them -- and to add another experience for him to enjoy. He got on his knees in front of the other male and took his cock in his mouth, happily bobbing his head along Steve's meat. When Steve pushed him off he looked up at the other boy with a grin, thick strands of saliva and precum still connecting his lips to the other boy's cock. "I always knew you'd taste this good…" He panted in reply, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue both in offer to the cock again and to let Steve see the hole he was free to fuck.

[stevekemp-anon]

"Yes baby?"

[sl1nkxy]

I’m keeping up with the redesigns :3 so i give u half of the healthy gang :D

They’re husbands your honour 🥰

(Press for better quality cause tumblr sucks)

[maskedcop10]

It was the first fight they had together in front of all the other officers. They were both rock hard in their tight breeches. Neil, lying on his back, was close to Steve's high riding boots. He could smell them and wanted to lick them, but not in front of all the other agents. Steve's leg was now between Neil's, and Neil felt the booted leg pressing hard against his rock-hard cock. He knew Steve liked rough and tough action, and the piece of meat Steve showed under his tight pants was one of the biggest in the force. For the past few weeks, Neil had been used by Steve every night. For the past few weeks, Steve had required Neil to wear a plug in his butt during patrols and training sessions. They finished their fight and both men showed off their big hard asses in their tight pants. They walked back into the circle. Neil looked at Steve but he showed no attention. He only showed his monstrous flesh along his leg. After a short talk from the commander, they all walked back to the locker room. Neil took a seat and felt the big plug being pushed in deeper. Steve stood next to him and Neil's eyes were focused on the big bulge in Steve's breeches leg. That's so big man, Neil said. It looks even bigger. Just wait until tonight said Steve. I have a surprise for you

[8sharkie-bites8]

Two Gay Health Nuts (For Amii)

A lil something I made for @amii-stuff​

I really love their art and especially these two!

Hope ya like it!

[stevekemp-anon]

kiss me like it was our last time together.

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 2

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 1

If you heard the names Casey or Steve one more time you might go insane. Stu ran up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist. "Boo!" The binder you held in your arms unceremoniously hit the floor. "Let go of me weirdo." You struggled but he didn't let go. "Did ya hear about Casey and Steve?" You could scream. The heel of your Mary Jane shoes made contact with his toes making him lose his grip. With a huff you picked up your belongings. "Why is everyone so obsessed with them?" Stu cocked an eyebrow at you. "Uh because they were slit open like pigs in a butcher shop?"

"I get that trust me thats all anyone can talk about. But you can't act all sad like you've lost a loved one and then talk in great detail about what organ fell out where. It's inhumane." He leaned back on the lockers listening to you rant. "Yesterday was a complete shit show. That Steve guy was a prick to me and he didn't even know my name yet. So he can't be the saint everyone's making him out to be. Murders happen everywhere all the time these two aren't going to change anything."

"Interesting take from Marry Poppins. What's got your panties in a bunch today?" You opened your locker putting away your things for lunch. "Some asshole started talking to me in 2nd period about how in a movie I'd be a prime suspect because the murders started when I got here." Randy. Stu knew the moment you brought up movies. "Well you did say Steve was an asshat, that's motive Y/n." He was right but let's be real here. You couldn't take on an athlete if you were paid. You rubbed your face in frustration. "Relax I know it's not you. You'd cry if you got blood on that cute little dress of yours." It really wouldn't matter you knew how to take practically any stain out of a piece of clothing.

"You'd be surprised." Just as the words left your lips a kid bumped into you knocking you into Stu. His hands conveniently found your hips. "Watch where you're walking asshole!" Stu shouted with a laugh. You pulled yourself away from him trying to straighten your dress with your hands. "Hey I'm meeting Tatum and everybody by the water fountain, you in?" The idea of being around more people wasn't ideal. Stu could see on your face you didn't want to. "Oh come on Billy's going to be there." He wasn't dumb. Billy was an attractive guy, he was well aware of that. All the girls had a thing for Billy, you were no exception.

"If I go you can't just completely ignore me because I only know you two." Stu shut your locker for you as you continued to walk. "Ignore you? I could never. You could sit on my lap if you wanted to." You fake gagged making him laugh. "I don't think your girlfriend would like that." He just shrugged his shoulders. "Eh I do what I want." This doesn't surprise you. "You are a peace of work." The doors opened letting the light bombard your skin. "Picasso baby!" Stu shouted as he grabbed your hand pulling you towards the fountain.

"Fresh meat everybody!" He declared as you stood uncomfortably in front of everyone. Billy looked more than unamused at your appearance. "Y/n right? You're in my math class?" You nodded at the girl with brown hair. She stuck out her hand for you to shake. "I'm Sydney Prescott." Billy shook his head with a smile. "Nice to meet you Sydney." She smiled up at you and returned the sentiment. "She's the killer I'll bet anybody 10 bucks." If looks could kill he'd be six feet under. "Randy knock it off. You think this adorable face could murder?" Stu pinched your cheeks with a grin on his lips. "Not a chance." He let go and found a seat next to Tatum. "Plus there's no way a girl could've killed them."

"Scoot over let her sit down." Billy huffed but did what Sydney told him. "That is so sexist. The killer could easily be a female, Basic Instinct." You nodded in Tatum's defense. "That was an ice pick. Not exactly the same thing." Stu looked over at all of us before looking at Tatum. "Yeah Casey and Steve were completely hollowed out. The fact is it takes like, a man to do something like that." Sydney looked down at the ground uncomfortable with the conversation.

"I don't know feminine rage is pretty scary. Do you know how many cheating husbands get stabbed to death or fed to the dogs by the wife. The fact is women know how to get a job done quickly and quietly. Men get cocky and want to play around that's how they get caught." Randy snapped his finger point at you. "See what I mean!" Stu laughed and Billy just looked at you with intrigue.

"How do you gut someone?" The honest tone of Sydney's voice made everyone quite down. "You take a knife and you slit them from groin to sternum." Billy sat up seemingly done with the gorey details. "Hey, it's called tact fuckrag." Billy looked at Stu his eyes once again saying more than his words did.

"Change of subject, I like your dress it's very Hepburn." Tatum spoke up. You cleared your throat trying to shake off that uneasy feeling. "Thanks I made it myself." She sat up in shock. "No way! You should totally make me one." If only it were that simple. "You think I'd look good in something like that babe?" She asked Stu and if you knew anything about him he'd give a smartass answer. "I think it'd look better on my bedroom floor but hey." She smacked his arm as everyone shared a laugh.

Stu continued rambling on about the murders with Randy. You were sick of hearing about it and it appeared so was Sydney. Her hand rested on Billy's knee as he whispered something to him. He nodded as she left a kiss on his cheek. The moment she left his demeanor darkened even more. He looked truly angry at this point. You assumed it was because Stu had upset her. Billy leaned next to you just enough to hit Stu's arm. "Ow man what gives? I was joking!" Billy was the next to get up followed by Randy.

"Hey Y/n? Are you doing anything Saturday? Me and Syd were going to hang out this weekend you could totally join." You knew Stu and Billy had plans to hang out with you and by the look on Stu's face he'd be upset if you said yes to Tatum. "Can't. My dad's going to be gone this weekend so I have to house sit." The smile on Stu's face was far from innocent. "You think with a killer on the loose you should be home alone?" She had a point but you doubted there was a serial killer running around. "I know how to lock my doors I'll be fine. Promise."

The school day went by fast thankfully. But once again everyone crowded around your car. "I'm not giving you a ride today." You shook your head. "I was thinking we could all go riding around maybe go to the mall? Someone's got to give you a tour." Stu said gesturing to the friend group you know found yourself a part of. "You don't have to of course." Sydney chimed in. She was probably the nicest one out of the group. "Who's got money for gas?" In an instant Stu handed you a crumpled up 100 dollar bill. "That should cover it and don't ask where its been." He noticed the shock on your face. "Don't worry there's more where that came from." He winked at you and Tatum rolled her eyes. You shoved the bill in your purse snapping it shut.

"Ive got work today so I'll catch you all later." Randy said as he walked away. You felt a little bad you were relieved at his absence. "Okay I've got bench seats so three people can sit up front and three in the back. "I call back seat with Stu." Tatum pulled at his shirt dragged him to the back. "No doing anything weird back there this is my dad's car." Tatum just laughed and Stu stuck his tounge out shaking it at you in protest. "Oh shit I forgot I've got to study for that exam tomorrow. I have to get home." Stu started to boo and Tatum echoed her boyfriend. "We'll only be gone a couple hours Syd."

"I have to pass this test Billy. You go ahead and go. You guys have fun!" She grabbed her bag and headed off towards the busses. Billy sat in the passenger seat again same aggravated look on his face. "Would it kill you to smile?" You asked lightheartedly. He turned to you flashing the fakest smile you'd ever seen. "See was that so hard?" Sarcasm dripping off your words. "Incredibly."

The mall wasn't hard to find after Tatum gave you some directions. You weren't sure how this little outing would go. On one hand it was nice having friends and spending time with people but on the other you and Billy were third wheeling. You had only been through half the stores and Stu already managed to spend an egregious amount. "Ooh help me pick out a set." Tatum said pulling Stu into the Victoria's Secret. Billy followed them in so you had no choice but to follow suit. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Billy asked as he touched the lace fabric on a teddy. "Odd question to ask considering you have a girlfriend."

"Fuck me for trying to make conversation." You laughed and decided to play along. "I do. We're trying the whole long distance thing." Billy found it hard to make eye contact with you. Choosing to play with and pick up anything around him to keep his hands busy. "He's probably cheating you know? Teenage boys do that." You're beginning to think both him and Stu have absolutely no filter. "Probably but it's not the like the guys around here are any better. I mean look at you and Stu." You're eyes flickered over to Stu holding up a bra to his chest declaring he was a girl. With a shake of the head you turn back to Billy. His eyes met with yours and for the first time he didn't advert his gaze. "Do you wear anything like this?" He gestured towards the thongs and see through bras.

"Nah I'm more into ropes and whips." You joke thinking if anyone would find it funny he would. His eye grew just a tiny bit wider surprised at your response. His lips quirked upwards a small smirk playing at his mouth. "I'm kidding!" Your face grew hot as he looked back down at what you were wearing. "No you're not. You're a freak. It's always the nice girls." Scoffing at that you wiped your hands down your dress trying to pull it further down your legs.

He smiled knowing he was making you uncomfortable. "You're a real creep you know that?" He held up in hands in fake surrender. "You caught me." Tatum shouted your name from across the store. "That's my que." You had no idea where she was or what she was doing. "She's in the dressing room I offered to help but ya know." He raised his eyebrows suggestively as if you didn't already know what he meant.

"Tatum it's me." You knocked on the door and it opened immediately. Her arm stuck out grabbing you and pulling you in. "You've got to stop doing that." You said in a hushed voice. "Opinions?" She said as she spun around practically naked. The red lace nightie left little to the imagination. "Um I think it looks cute. It doesn't cover much does it?" You ask and she laughed. "That's the point silly. You don't think it makes me look fat?" She was so skinny you worried about were her organs were let alone be over weight. "You look fine hun. I'm gonna go check on the guys." She said alright and let you slip out of the dressing room.

"We got you something." Stu shook the bag in front of your face startling you. "He got it." Billy spoke up as you took the bag from Stu. "No you grabbed it and said it would-" A swift punch to the ribs shut the blonde boy up. "Don't open it till later." Billy said and for some reason you agreed. "Is she about done in there?" The door opened and Tatum eagerly ran to the checkout desk. Stu like a puppy followed right behind her leaving you and Billy alone again.

"What did you get me?" Once again his eyes were on the floor. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He quipped his eyes finally reaching your face. "I would. That's why I asked." You both smiled at the small reenactment. "You didn't have to get me anything especially from here." He grabbed the bag from you tying the ribbon strings together. "Don't get too excited it's not a ball gag or anything." You smacked his arm snatching the bag back. "Plus I didn't pay for it. Rich boy over there did." He pointed at Stu.

"I'm hitting up Spencer gifts who's coming with me?" Going into that store with Stu was probably the dumbest thing you could do. "I'm in." You said mentally regretting it. "I'll go where you go." Tatum said as she hugged his arm. The last one to go was Billy. "Let's just get this over with." Stu practically ran to the opposite end of the mall with Tatum tossed over his shoulder. "There's no way your feet aren't killing you." Billy said looking down at your heels.

"I grew up in high heels mister. I could run in these bad boys if I had to." You weren't kidding. Growing up in a household where you had church every Sunday and you only had one pair of sneakers, you could run in heels. "I doubt that." He was getting more comfortable around you. Billy didn't even realize it. He used to be fun. He used to screw around and let loose like Stu does. Since his mom left and the world seemed to collapse around him he just had one to many stabs in the back.

"Wanna race?" He looked at you with a childlike curiosity. He would win he knew that much. Considering his murderous tendencies he could beat you in ten seconds flat. "I run to the store and if you catch me before I get there you win. What do you say?" Before he could answer you took off running. It was supposed to be fun for the both of you. A little game of cat and mouse. What you didn't realize was how seriously he would take it. The simple sound of his boots gaining up on you was terrifying. Your laughter stopped as you sped up.

You ran around people, who were then pushed out of the way by Billy. This was no longer a game. He was trying to catch you. The click of your heels got faster and faster till you ran into someone. "Woah there what's going on?" You looked up and saw Stu waiting at the door of Spencer's. You won. Billy was just two steps behind you the entire time. "Damnit!" He exclaimed appearing genuinely pissed that he didn't grab you. Tatum chimed in asking him what the hell was going on. After all to them it seemed like something horribly wrong had happened. "We were just playing. I told him we'd race each other." You looked back at Billy trying to catch his breath.

"Billy Loomis playing a game? Now that's unheard of." Stu gasped as he walked in the store. You approached Billy deciding to check on him. Your hand touched his shoulders as they heaved up and down. "Are you okay?" His hand wrapped around your wrist tighten enough to bare pain. "I'm fine." He flung your hand away, leaving you behind as he walked in the store. So much for that. It was hot and cold with him. You couldn't figure it out and you weren't sure if you wanted to.

Stu and Tatum were over in the novelty section making dirty jokes and just getting on each other's nerves. You didn't know where Billy went. You walked to the back of the store ignoring the adult toy section. You looked down at your stockings noticing the big rip on your right leg. "Shit!" You cursed picking at the hole. Going through the short selection of stockings they had to offer you finally settled on a pair. They were thigh highs which is something you usually didn't wear. Victoria's secret bag and stockings in hand you walked up to the cashier and paid.

Afterwards you met up with Stu and Tatum who were as equally ready to leave as you were. "Where's Billy?" She asked. "I have no idea." Stu leaned over trying to peak into the Spencer bag. "You get something from the back?" You did but you weren't going to be honest about it. "I did. I got it for Tatum though. She deserves at least six inches." She started to laugh as Stu acted all dramatic. "Ha ha really funny. Go ahead laugh it up. I'll have you know she's perfectly content with what she's got." Tatum shook her head making you laugh even harder. "You guys ready to go?"

"Where'd you go?" You asked Billy as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Bathroom." You're not sure what you did to piss him off. Is he butthurt that you beat him in a race? That can't be it he's not 5. He shouldn't be upset by such a small thing. "Let's go bitches!" Stu and Tatum walked hand in hand once again leaving you and Billy to talk. "Did I do something wrong?" You ask gingerly not to upset him further. "No." Another one word answer.

"We can race again. I'll let you catch me this time. I'll play dead and everything if you'd like." You laughed trying everything in your power to make him tolerate you again. "You would?" You weren't being serious but if that's what it took so be it. "If you'll stop being mad at me I will." That somehow put a smile on his face. "Should I start running?" You joke and he actually chuckles. "No no. We'll save that for later."

Everyone makes their way to your car getting in the same seats as before. "I know where Stu lives where do you two live?" You sit your bags in the floor next to Billy's black combat boots. "I'm going to her house before I go home so you can take me there. She's going to take me home before they pick up Sydney." She proceeds to giggle at the admission. "Just drop me off at Stu's" Billy says as he slicks his hair back. "Do you live at Stu's place?" You start the car leaving the mall in your rearview mirror. "Stu's parents are never home so they practically live together."

Billy looked out the window not making eye contact with anyone in the car. "Means I throw the best damn parties our school has ever seen." Stu and Tatum rejoiced in the back. That fact left more questions than answers. It made sense why Stu seemed to be so flippant with money. It even explained his overall behavior. Billy's case however was different. How bad was it at his house that he needed to live with Stu? In all honesty you felt bad for both the boys.

"Hey Billy open the glove compartment and play something." He did as told until he saw the contents of the glove box. "What the hell?" He said as he pulled out an 8 track. "Listen my dad had an 8 track player put in back in the 70s so that's all I got." With a smile on his face he dug through all the boxes.

Pushing the tape into the car AC/DC blasted through the speakers. "How'd I know you'd pick that one?" He carefully put all the tapes back where he got them. "I have good taste what can I say?" He shrugged. First stop was Tatum's house. She gave you the directions which you quickly found out she lives on the same street as you. "Your lights on upstairs is your dad home? I saw your car in the driveway this morning." Tatum asked pointing at your house. Fuck. "So this is where the mysterious Betty Crocker lives." Stu laughed putting on his best Vincent Price voice. Billy was just satisfied in knowing where you live. "Yeah my dad is. He's probably sleeping though he's got to get up early in the morning which means I've have to get home so scoot." You waved the couple out of your car quickly.

You pulled away getting just a couple houses down the road before your car began to stall. "What's wrong?" Billy asked as you look around. "I don't know it hasn't done this before." You turned the car off and on again but nothing happened. "Does it have gas?" You didn't get gas. The crumpled 100 was still shoved in your purse. "Son of a bitch." You cursed as you hit the steering wheel. "Hop out I've got to go get the gas can out of my garage."

"Do I get a house tour?" You stayed quiet genuinely upset at your ignorance. "Listen when we go inside I want you to be quiet. Okay?" Billy nodded as you unlocked your front door. "Holy shi-" You immediately covered his mouth. "I told you to be quiet." Slowly you pulled your hand away and he stepped into the house. "What year do you think it is?" You shut the door as quietly as possible knowing your dad could get up at anytime. "Oh shut up." Billy looked around at the old pictures, the old decor, really the old everything. Billy didn't come from rich parents like Stu. Your house was definitely bigger and better but it didn't have the rich person feel. Billy's house wasn't the problem for him, it was the people in it. It used to be a happy home but all that was waiting for him now was alcohol and fights.

While you sat your bags down he looked around the place. It looked like no one had bought anything new for the place since the 70s. The TV in the living room was 90% wood and the kitchen was a tacky yellow. All the appliances on the counters had to be at least 20 years old. Hell the phone on the wall was a rotary dial phone. Billy felt like he was walking into the Myers house.

"Let's go!" You whisper yelled at him the heavy gas can pulling on your arm. "Give it to me." Billy grabbed the can with ease helping you out the front door. He went ahead and filled the car up for you so you could run the empty can back inside. "Thank you." You said with a huff throwing yourself in the driver seat. "It's nothing." He replied already ready to go. Before you did anything you peeled the heels off your feet tossing them in the back seat. The next to come off were your ripped stockings. Billy watched as your upper thigh was exposed. He could see the hem of your pink underwear before you caught him.

"Perv." You smiled knowing he had to be a little flustered. He just shook his head looking at the ceiling. You threw the stockings in the back seat with your shoes. Billy cleared his throat trying to start up a conversation."Your house is nice." You breathed out a laugh as you started the car. "You don't have to lie."

Billy's demeanor changed once again. Now that it was just you and him he had one leg bent on the seat so his body could face towards you. Even though your eyes were on the road you could feel his burning holes in you. "I mean it. It's different. Better than all those rich bitches we go to school with." He wasn't lying. It was hard to find anyone who had an actual personality these days.

"I know it's not everyone's cup of tea. My dad doesn't really care what I do with the house as long as there is food on the table when he gets home." Billy bit his lip in thought. "So you did all of that?" He found it impressive to say the least. "Not really. I haven't messed with much since my grandparents passed. The way the kept things always seemed nice as a kid. And I don't see the sense in wasting money on new stuff when I've got perfectly good old stuff that works." He saw the way your eyes grew wide when Stu handed you that hundred. You're not a money person. You were modest. Going through the mall you only bought one thing for yourself while Tatum begged for everything she saw.

"How often is your dad gone?" He asked. A dangerous question to answer if Billy's asking it. "He can be gone for weeks at a time. He's a truck driver. He goes where his boss tells him to go." The car goes quiet for a little while. Luckily for you it's comfortable. "What about you? How's your mom and dad?" You meant nothing hateful by it and he knew that. "I live with my dad too. My parents split up." You could feel him putting those walls back up. It was night and day with Billy. Slowly you car came to a stop in Stu's driveway. "My mom isn't in the picture either. You know if that shit ever starts to bother you, you can call me. As long as your girlfriends okay with it that is." You grabbed a pen out of the glove compartment gently pulling Billy's hand towards your lap.

His hand sat on top of your right thigh as you touched the tip of the pen to your tongue. Carefully your wrote down your phone number where the numbers were visible. Billy for the first time in awhile, he was the one who was scared. Scared of moving even the tiniest bit. A simple harsh breath would ruin whatever this was. Softly you brought his hand up to your face blowing cool air on the drying ink. "There ya go." You tossed his hand back, your gentle nature now gone. "But um yeah if you ever need to talk you can call me."

Funny enough he didn't want to call you. "Sure." Was all he could muster up. Billy finally decided he didn't want you dead like the rest of them. You were kind enough not to piss people off but you were sure of what you wanted. Too trusting, yes but it definitely helped his case. He'd have to make a new plan one that doesn't get you hurt. Well, one that doesn't get you killed.

Part 3

[apomaro-mellow]

okay yall convinced me to continue this

Eddie looked around and all he saw was black. Was this what death was like? He expected more people. But maybe death was just solitude. Then all of a sudden he wasn't alone.

He jumped back when he came face to face with, himself.

"What the fuck?"

His mirror image looked back and smirked. Then looked down at his hands.

"Finally."

"What the hell is going on here? Where am I? W-we?"

"Vecna is putting us back together. We can see everyone again soon."

"You mean...I'm not dead?"

"Oh we're very much alive. In fact, I'd say we're better than before."

As his mirror said that, Eddie felt a new energy thrumming in his veins.

"Why? Why would Vecna do this, I was tryina kill that bastard!"

"He wants something in return. To use us against them."

"Like hell that's gonna happen. I-"

"Didn't let myself get chomped on just so I could be used by an actual murderer."

"How did you-"

"Is it not obvious? I'm still you. But I'm the parts he wants to use. The part that's afraid of Vecna. Afraid of the world for seeing us for what we are. And angry at our lot in life. And ashamed for how we feel."

Eddie didn't respond. It was all a lot to take in. When his other self mentioned shame for feeling something, a certain face popped into his head.

"We're going to see him again. And this time, I'm going to take what I want."

"You put a hand on him and-" Eddie stopped himself. Not only did he feel pretty powerless here, he was never that good at restraining his own actions. "You touch him and he'll kick your ass."

---------------------

After his little stunt, Eddie/Kas found themselves tied up again, this time in Steve's garage. And this time with chains (duct tape boys? really?). Nancy also made sure his legs were chained to the chair and had a shotgun trained on him the whole time they talked.

"We're all sure he's real?", she asked, nudging his cheek with her barrel. She was the only one here to actually experience Vecna's illusions besides Max. She knew how convincing they could be.

"He's real", Jonathan said, a lighter ready just in case. "Steve and the others said so."

Nancy rifled through all the information she got when she received the code red. Something that looked like Eddie had returned. But it was very obviously NOT Eddie. Stronger, faster, more durable. And apparently was receiving orders directly from Vecna. He also apparently had a craving for flesh, having busted into the meat locker of a deli before being found.

"What's your game this time? Use our friend's face to trick us?", she questioned.

"Heh, it really warms our heart that you call us 'friend'. Guess quality time over quantity, huh?" He was smiling, like none of this was a threat to him. Knowing creatures of the Upside Down, it would take more than one bullet, but Nancy had plenty.

"I believe I laid down my terms with the others pretty clearly. I'll follow your rules, so long as Steve is the one to watch me."

"Why Steve?", Jonathan asked.

Kas grinned at him. "Steve's my favorite."

"Oh my god, shut up, shut up, shut up", Eddie lamented from their shared mental space.

While Nancy and Jonathan were handling that situation in the garage, Steve was trying to get a grip on what was happening in his house. They were practically running up the walls.

"Steve you don't understand!", Dustin exclaimed. "This is huge!"

"I don't see how a monster posing as Eddie is huge?"

"But they're not just posing. It IS Eddie", Mike said.

"We don't know that. Not until Nancy confirms it."

Will rolled his eyes. "Oh like she'd know. She talked to Eddie for what? A day?"

"Cut the sass. And if you can talk, you can move your hands." Steve handed Will the knife and pushed some peppers his way.

"The point is WE, you know the people who actually hung out with Eddie would know him better. We should be the ones interrogating him", Lucas said, actually doing his duty of buttering a casserole dish.

"The other point is we don't NEED to question him because we already know that it's actually Eddie", Dustin said. "Vecna wouldn't know who Kas is. Eddie's in there. And he's telling us that he's on our side."

"You remember what Max told us, right? Vecna gets in your head. He sees what you see, knows what you know." Steve took the dish from Lucas and poured some rice into it. "If he got to Eddie, then he knows what Eddie knows." When Will finished dicing, Steve took the knife and was about to wash it under running water when he heard someone approach.

"Is Mama Steve making dinner?"

Steve reacted first and thought second and the knife flew threw the air. Kas caught it easily and twirled the knife in his hand.

"Nice aim. Lemme guess, little league?"

Nancy and Jonathan were right behind him. Steve wanted to respond. Maybe ask 'what the hell? why isn't he tied up? Nancy where's your gun?' But the kids got to it first.

"Tell us everything!" Mike demanded.

Dustin started rallying off questions. "Are you actually Eddie? Just enhanced? Or like a split personality? Is it one that came naturally or one Vecna implanted? Is Eddie like inside of you? Can he come out?"

"All in due time", Kas said, walking by them all to get to Steve, who once again looked like a deer with a car coming straight on.

"We struck a deal, princess. Looks like we're roomies."

There was still at least a foot separating them yet Steve felt boxed in. It was the same sensation he got whenever Eddie talked to him and only him, but intensified.

"Umm, hope you like chicken and rice?"

Internally, Eddie was falling to his knees. Steve's cooking, Steve in the process of cooking, with his little chickadees orbiting him. It was a domestic scene too much for his pining heart and he was actually glad right now that he wasn't holding the reins. Falling to his knees for chicken and rice wasn't the best look for a metalhead.

"Eddie would love some", Kas said cooly.

--------------------------

Dinner was an odd affair. All of them trying to figure out Kas in their own way. Dustin and Mike with their blatant questions, Lucas telling them to cool it, Nancy with her more subtle line of questioning, Will trying to see if he could feel anything, and Jonathan trying to see if Will was effected.

Steve was the only one pointedly trying to ignore the man which was very difficult given that he was doing everything in his power to get his attention. His favorite move seemed to be nudging Steve's foot with his own, causing Steve to bump his knee against the table at least three times.

Eddie wanted to roll into a hole and die. He especially wanted to do so when Kas started eyeing Steve's leg, because he knew what was coming.

"No, absolutely not. He let you get away with this much. But he will rip of your hand for this", Eddie said.

"I think he'd let us get away with much more." So Kas went ahead and put his hand on Steve's thigh, making him jolt up from his chair.

So yeah, quite the interesting dinner.

After eating, they figured out a rotation schedule for watching him. Technically Steve was only on the schedule for six hours a day. But considering Kas would be at his house the entire time, they'd be spending a lot more time together.

The rest of them were getting ready to leave so that they could check in with the others, but Nancy hung back to talk to Steve semi-privately.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Steve glanced at the mysterious figure that was masquerading as Eddie, who was openly leering at him while ignoring the children.

"I'll be..uh, I can hang in there Nance, don't worry."

Then everyone else left, leaving the two of them alone. Steve felt a little like caged prey. But he also felt like this version of Eddie wouldn't hurt him. Not physically at least. But that left other things to do to him and Steve was afraid to go down that rabbit hole of possibilities.

"It's just you and me, Steve."

Part 3A More plotty, fluffy, bit of angst

Part 3B Less plotty, more smutty

Tag team:

@jestyzesty

@mightbeasleep

@findafight

@spooky-mulders

[pxrxcxa]

I know why you're mean

✶ One shot - Part 3

Pairing | mean Eddie x Fem reader

Post summary | After it seems that Eddie would open up about why he is such an ass, he resorts to his old ways & y/n isn't putting up with it this time, but she's not prepared to get what she asks for.

What to expect | Eddie being an ass, but a lil bit of a submissive softie, the long awaited fluff that has been in high demand.

Post Warnings | Pure Smut 18+, F oral, Fingering, P in V unprotected (practise safe S kids), mention of physical abuse.

Word count | 4.8K Word Count.

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Authors Note | I wanted to take this mini series away from the super angry aspect and see some character development so I hope thais is what ya'll were looking for & enjoyed :) - Part 4 will depend on demand :)

Nancy’s voice prattled on my left as we made our way through the packed school corridor as the loud bell rang, bodies pressing in on us from every side as we pushed through. I tugged my books tighter to my chest as a break parted in the crowd and I spotted Eddie at his locker. His face was guarded, and his lips were pressed tight in concentration as he rolled a cigarette. My mouth went dry at the sight of him towering over the other students as they allowed him a wide berth, the memory of his rough fingertips gliding across my skin in the dark and his mouth on parts of my body that no one else had ever touched, overpowered my mind as Nancy’s words drifted into the background. 

I tripped as she tugged on my sleeve, halting me to a standstill as she whisper-yelled into my ear. 

“Wait, there he is!” For a wild second I thought she was talking about Eddie, and my eyes shot to her face, panic spreading across mine since I hadn’t told her about anything that had happened between us, Nancy would want details, but the things Eddie had made me do – what I’d allowed him to -  felt too dirty just even thinking about talking about it. But as I watched a pretty rose colour fill her cheeks I followed her gaze, Steve Harrington was thundering down the opposite corridor from us, heading straight to where Nancy and I stood pressed against the cold metal of the lockers behind us, Tommy and Carol in tow close to him. 

“Wheeler.” Steve smirked as he crossed the throng of students and made his way to our position, leaning against the wall next to Nancy, eyeing her up like she was a piece of meat. I dropped her hand and turned my concentration away as he monopolised her attention, disappointment sunk through me as I looked back to where Eddie had been standing a second ago. When I caught a glimpse of a wild mane of hair that I knew all too well disappearing behind the corner, I barely spared the group behind me a glance before my feet took off after him, leaving Nance to swoon in Harringtons presence as he invited her to some party he was throwing. 

Rough hands shoved me back as I pushed my way through them as the hallway slowly emptied, watching the strong outline of Eddie’s vest walk further away from me. He didn’t turn as I called out after him, but I watched the muscle in his forearm tense as he heard my voice, shouldering his way through the side exit door as I sped up. 

“Hey.” I caught the glass door as it swung back in my face, following Eddie out on the landing outside as he lit up his cigarette, the cloud of smoke puffing into the freezing air around us. He turned his head to the side and gave me a slight nod without meeting my eyes, barley acknowledging me as he shook out his jacket and jumped down the steps.

“What? Now you don’t wanna talk?” I was slower as I held onto the railing to step down the dangerously ice-covered stairs. As soon as he cleared the slippery concrete he took off in long strides across the frost-bitten field. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He dismissed me; his voice drifted back to me over the wind as I reached up to my bag to shove my textbooks deep inside it. 

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with my mouth last night.” I snapped, my frustration seeping through over the constant battle of feeling like I would take two steps forward with him and then ten back, his constant mood swings were giving me whiplash. The corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a grin as he spared me an almost approvingly glance before his mask of indifference slid back into place. 

“What d’ya want from me y/n?” He bit back at me, heading towards the chain link fence at the end of the field, refusing to slow down as I struggled to keep up with him. 

“I don’t want anything.” I gritted through my teeth as goosebumps raised on my skin. I stared at his multiple layers of warm jackets and vest longingly, any other guy at school would have had the decency to offer one to me to stop me shivering in my thin shirt and shorts. But I’d seen and felt enough to know Eddie wasn’t just any other guy.  

The thought should have sent me running the other way, but it had the opposite effect. 

I wasn’t stupid, just a… sucker for pain I guess. 

“Everyone always wants something.” He scoffed, flicking the butt of his smoke away in a blaze of orange as we neared the tree line. 

“Why is it so damn hard for you to believe that I don’t.” I slowed automatically as the boundary of metal blocked our path, but Eddie reached out with one hand and catapulted himself over the low fence, the chain lining his jean pockets rattled as he straightened up, turning to me with a dark smirk as I ran my eyes over his lean muscles. I clenched my jaw as my abdomen throbbed. 

Damn him. 

“Fine. Continue to act like you hate me.” I spat, spinning on my heels. I was done chasing after him, I thought last night had broken down some invisible barrier that Eddie was holding up against the whole world, and that maybe he’d let me sneak past to see the real him. 

Obviously I’d been delusional and imagined it, the fantasises I had spun out in my head as I laid in my own bed late last night, laughed at me now as I started to head back towards the school in the distance.

I didn’t get very far before Eddie’s hand shot out to trap my wrist in his tight grasp. The sudden movement stole my breath as he pulled me against the fence, I looked up to meet his dark eyes as he reached down to wrap his arms around my waist and pulled me over it. My cheeks reddened and his fingertips pressed into my sides painfully as he slowly put me down in front of him, our breaths mingling in a white cold cloud as he pulled my pelvis into his. 

As I closed my eyes I gasped, he had dropped his hold from around me and stormed away, the sudden swirling air of coolness assaulting my exposed skin as he ripped himself from my grasp, leaving me standing confused at the tree line as he disappeared into its depth. 

The loud screech of a nest of birds taking flight from a nearby treetop sent me scurrying in after him as I hesitated, the trees that had probably been covered in burnt oranges leaves weeks ago, now crinkled underfoot from where they’d fallen to the ground. As I walked through them down the beaten track, following the large fresh footprints that had to belong to Eddie, the branches were bare, eerily daunting as they rocked in the wind. My hyperventilating breath slowed as I neared the break in the tree line, spotting Eddie’s hulking shadow leaning across the table through the cluster of trees at the end of the path.

“What are we doing out here?” I questioned.

“I’ve got someone coming to pick up soon.” He retorted, rolling his eyes like it was obvious. 

“Last night, when you asked me to stay. Why?” He met my stare as his licked the paper of a fresh smoke he had just rolled. 

“Technically I didn’t ask you to stay.” His cocky demeanour had well and truly settled back into its rightful place as he gaslit me, there wasn’t a trace of the vulnerability I had caught a glimpse of last night, anywhere on his face as he stared at me with utter disinterest. 

Foreign rage must have flared on my own face because Eddie grinned and shot me a ‘calm down’ look, offering up a different response.

“Someone needed to teach you how to smoke properly y/n.” His gaze slowly moved from my face down my chest, I embarrassingly crossed my arms over it as his stare lingered, knowing that my hardened nipples from the cold were probably poking holes through my shirt. I waited for a rude comment from him, but it never came.

“That’s why?” I mocked, anger coursing through me because I knew he was lying, but his casual, offhand demeanour had me questioning myself and everything I thought I knew last night. 

“I couldn’t have cared less if you stayed or left.” He shrugged, leaning forward to pull his lighter from his pocket. 

“That’s bullshit Eddie and you know it.” I hissed, narrowing my brows as he palmed his face in frustration. 

I wasn’t backing down this time. 

He ignored me, so I tried a different tactic to draw him out. 

“Last night, after we… I don’t know you said some things and it was like you wanted to keep talking but then you just… shut off.” I trailed off as his dark, angry eyes shot back up to mine, a rapid warning flashing in them as my words hung between us. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He growled through clenched teeth, placing the cigarette between his lips. 

“Hate me all you want; I know I’m right.” I snapped, just as he lifted his lighter to his smoke my hand flashed out of its own accord to steal it from his hand. I danced out of the way precariously as he launched himself from the table at me. 

I laughed as his hand swiped out to grab my side, missing me by inches as I flinched out of the way. The giggle died on my lips as he both of his hands clenched at his sides, Eddie watched me with barely concealed rage like he was thinking about wrapping those large hands around my neck. 

“I’m not playing a game with you y/n.” A thrill of fear flashed through me as Eddie straightened up, his full form towering over me.  

“Neither am I.” My breathless laugh sounded a lot more confident than I felt.

“Give it here.” He lunged and this time he caught me, constricting his arms around my waist and pinning me to his chest until I couldn’t breathe. 

“Now!.” He scowled, wrapping his fingers around my wrist and squeezing it tight until the stinging pain made me drop his lighter into his other outstretched hand. 

“I’m right here. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” I yelled at his strong back as he shoved me harshly away from him and turned from me, ignoring me as I stumbled and scraped my knees along the sharp scattered rocks underfoot. 

“For fuck sakes Eddie, please, stop it. Stop pretending.” I shot to my feet as tears sprung to my eyes, brushing debris off of me as he slammed his hands down against the table, cowering over it as his vest shook with his heavy breaths. The sight of him worked up sent embarrassing feelings though me that I tried to ignore. 

“I can’t.” He spat, turning to face me when he heard me scoff out of scorn. 

“I can’t y/n… because that’s when I get hurt. And I can’t go through it anymore.” I dropped my crossed arms as my lips parted in surprise, running my gaze over his flushed face as each layer of protection slipped away. He shone so brightly, even in this moment of his pain, with his brows narrowed distrustfully against me, his eyes shining with unshed tears and his lips quivering from his words, I’d never seen him look so real. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you Eddie.” I promised, the strength from the truth of my own words spurred me forward. 

“You already have.” My eyes flashed to the new, pulsing bruise around his that matched my fingers, he didn’t sound angry, just disappointed. And somehow that made it worse. 

“That was instinctual, I responded out of –“ My excuse sounded hollow to my own ears as Eddie smirked at me without humour and shook his head. 

How could I deny that I didn’t mean it when I’d been the one to hit first? 

My mouth went dry as he stared back at me unblinkingly, waiting for me to throw out more vindications. I truly hadn’t had one, his cruel actions and words had just brought out something in me I didn’t think I’d ever be capable off. 

But Eddie was just as guilty as I was. My thoughts must have shown on my face because he spoke up before I could. 

“Yeah well I guess my response was instinctual too y/n, after my dad spent twelve years beating the crap out of me until I learned how to punch back, it’s just my go to response when someone hits me now.” 

The clearing fell silent around us as Eddie dropped his gaze from mine, colour filling his cheeks – from what, I couldn’t tell. A hundred emotions struggled within me over his admission, so I could only imagine that he struggled with a thousand more. 

He took a deep breath before the words fell from him, expelling in a deep rush as I watched his shoulders lift as the burden broke apart. 

“I was a good kid y/n. I thought things might have gotten better once I started school and I could escape my home for a bit. But on our first day… when all the parents and their kids looked at me with the same hate and disgust my dad did… I learned two things that day, I was never going to let anyone see that they got to me.” His voice was steady as he ripped the stone wall between us down, but anger shook me over his pain and a new hatred for every person that I had watched call him a freak, coursed through me. 

“And if Hawkins was only going to see me as mean, no good troublemaker that wasn’t worth anyone’s time, there’s no point in trying to be anything else.” 

Horror struck me as I watched his lip tremble. 

There wasn’t an excuse for either of us, but maybe I understood his a little better now. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you… you just hurt me. And I reacted because of that, but still Eddie, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never hurt you.” I crossed the space between us in mere seconds as I reached out to trap his face under my cold hands, running my nail over his lip. His eyes fluttered shut under my touch as his warm breath coated my hand. 

“If you are so goddamn hellbent on not leaving me alone, let me show you why I wanted you to stay-.” So fast that the world spun around me in a blur, he had reached down to my waist and twisted me around to pin me against the table. His mask of defence hadn’t returned but the vulnerability was gone now, pure blazing passion in its place. My stomach flipped as he pressed his body into mine, the sharp, jagged edges of the table stabbed into my naked thighs as he brought his face closer to mine. 

“I don‘t wanna hurt you anymore y/n. Not in the way that isn’t pleasurable anyway.” He paused with a small smirk on the corner of his lips as he waited for it to sink in, watching my eyes intently as my thoughts turned over. 

Every mean thing he ever said sounded in my ears again, his rough touches and empty stares devoid of any kind of feeling burned behind my lids. Eddie had given me a slight reasoning for why, but the hurt from the way he’d treated me still stung freshly. 

I knew that I had been the one to seek him out, promising and lying to myself that this would be the last and final time, but he had used and abused me twice now because he could, because I’d let him. My body had been nothing more than a means to an end for him, valuing his pleasure above mine always because he had just seen me as an inconvenience while I had harboured genuine feelings for him. 

He repeated himself as he watched the war of indecision wage behind my teary eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you anymore.” 

“And how do I know that you won’t?” I whimpered, pulling back to watch his stare harden and his jaw clench. 

With slow, reverent movements, Eddie untangled himself from me, without blinking or looking away from my eyes once, he dropped down to his knees, one at a time. 

Butterflies assaulted my stomach as he stared up at my through his thick, dark lashes. He didn’t say anything as he hooked his fingers through the band of my shorts, tugging them down my thighs lightly until they pooled at my feet leaving me exposed in my pink lace. I shook as he kissed the bleeding marks on my knees, moving his mouth to trace soft, fiery kisses up my legs towards my middle. 

I twisted my hands in his soft curls as he pressed his face into my clothed slit, running his hard nose against my clit up and down as I trembled and arched back against the table, pulling his hair to push him further into me as I moaned his name. 

“Eds- Eddie. Stop.” My plea was useless as my words died in the wind as he lightly nipped at my bud though my panties with his sharp teeth. 

“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.” He pulled the fabric to the side to slide a long finger inside of me, I shuddered and ground down onto his face as he smirked, not allowing me to find my purchase. 

“You’re – you’re…” I cried out as his tongue lapped at my slit, flickering over my sensitive spot and sending waves of pleasure to crash over me. 

“What? Being mean?” He taunted as he pulled his hand from me, the loss of feeling made me curl over his face, shivering against him as he buried his mouth further into me. His hands clenched my hips as I leant back against the table, grinding them against his face as his tongue lapped at my clit, the feeling should have been illegal. I was merciless under his touch as his dark glare swivelled up to meet mine from between my legs. 

As I halted and gasped, bunching up as the familiar heat coiled inside of me, he pulled back instantly. Cold air burned against the wet streaks of slick that ran down my thighs from the pleasure that Eddie’s tongue had created, he grinned as I leant up stunned. 

“Yes you’re mean.” I gulped, tracing my fingers to my throbbing clit as it begged for release. Eddie grabbed my hand before I could and stood up, running the back of his across his face from where my essence was smeared across his chin. 

“Yeah, but you like it.” He smirked, letting go of my arm to snake his around me to pull me close, my shorts were still around my ankles as he lifted me into the air, placing me gently onto the table as he slid between my legs, pressing his hot lips against mine as I moaned, the taste of me swirled in my mouth along with his tongue. As the wind settled down the only noises in the hidden clearing were the sinful gasps tumbling from my lips as Eddie’s mouth moved to my neck, sucking and lightly biting at the soft skin as I dug my nails into his shoulders. 

He pressed a rough kiss to my jaw as I wrapped my legs around him, begging for more. Eddie’s warm fingers skimmed across my waist as he reached for the hem of my shirt to rip it over my head, but my quick hands stopped him. 

“Wait.” I cried.

“What?” He scoffed, our chests heaving as we caught out breath.

“It’s cold.” I whispered as a violent gust of air shot over us. He smiled sarcastically and made a rude sound in his chest as he ignored me and tore it over me anyway, tossing it into the abyss. I brushed my messy hair away from my face, but before I could look at him with disappointment that he had once again ignored my choice, he had reached up to tear his jacket from his shoulders and flung it over me, nodding for me to hold my arms out as he slid the oversized fabric onto me. 

His warmth and signature scent made my head swim as an unfamiliar warmth shot through me as I traced my fingers over his exposed biceps under his tight, dark shirt, Eddie’s dark eyes softened briefly before he brushed his lips against mine, his long fingers trailing across my naked chest as I jolted under his touch. He leaned over me as my eyes fluttered shut, forcing me to arch my back as he wrapped an arm around my ass to pull me closer into him, his free hand lightly twisting his fingers in my hair to pull my head back, allowing him to deepen this kiss. I struggled against his chest as I felt his harden cock press into me from beneath his jeans. 

It took him a moment before he realised I was pushing against him and not pulling him into me anymore, he broke apart from me with a frustrated glare and raised his brow as he waited for me to interrupt him, sighing as his hands fell to his jeans to undo his belt. My gaze fell between us as he sprung free, gulping as the pre cum dripped from his tip.

“But what about the guys that are coming to buy off you? They might see us.” My eyes rolled into my head as he latched back onto my neck, rolling his tongue over my skin as he ran his hard cock against my clothed pussy, pushing into my covered entrance as a deep growl rose from his chest. 

“So what? Then they’ll know you’re mine.” I didn’t have time to give him any kind of response asides from meeting his stare, I couldn’t even remind him that he didn’t have a condom on because at that moment his had ripped my panties to the side and buried himself inside of me. I almost screamed out embarrassingly as the feeling of him filled me up perfectly, his length hitting a spot inside of me that I didn’t know was there. He reached down to pull my legs up around him, shifting his arms to wrap around my back as his mouth settled on my tits bouncing with his movements.

“I was wrong y/n, you’re not a whore. You’re my whore.” I gasped loudly and hid my face in the crook of his shoulder as he thrusted deeper into me, crying into his delicate skin as his pace picked up. 

My cheeks blushed hard as the sounds falling from his lips made me giddy, I was lost in my own feeling his body was creating inside of mine, but knowing and hearing how good I was making him feel?

God, it was sinful. Something I was willing to go to hell over. 

I clenched my walls together around the size of him as he pushed back into me, Eddie faltered and fell against me, moaning into my neck as his pace turned frantic. 

“Fuck y/n, what are you doing to me?” His voice was primitive and excited, low enough that the vibrations set my skin on fire. The sound of my name on his lips was enough to send me over the edge, somehow Eddie already knew my body better than I did because his hand fell between us to rub fast circles on my throbbing clit as I threw my head back, in seconds he had hurtled me over the edge as bright spots burst across my vision and I collapsed against his chest with a scream that echoed around the clearing. 

It was almost too much as he pumped even deeper into my pussy before shivering over me, pulling me against him tight enough to crush me as he rode out his orgasm inside of me, as he roamed his lips over any patch of my skin he could get to, I gently stroked my fingers through his loose curls, using my free hand to trace my nails on the back of his neck as he shuddered and convulsed, smiling as he moaned my name one last time. 

To say that we had untangled ourselves from each other and pulled our pants back up literally in the nick of time, was an understatement. The pair of seniors that Eddie was selling to, stumbled through the undergrowth into the clearing as their loud laughs filled the air until the spotted us next to the table, I spun away quickly as I wrapped Eddie’s jacket tighter over my naked torso as I looked around for my shirt. The newcomers shot us confused looks over my presence as they made their way towards Eddie, pulling a wad of cash from the depths of their pockets. 

“Uh hey man, we still good to do this?” The taller senior spoke up.

Eddie spared me a quick glance as he pushed his hair away from his face, striding over to where I hid away at the opposite end of the table. I looked up in shock as he dug his hand into the pocket of his jacket that I still had on, his hand squeezed my hip playfully as he pulled the bag of drugs from the side of it, winking at me as I dropped my gaze and smiled.

His own smile dropped, and the careful angry mask fell into place as he turned back to the guys waiting impatiently, his hand outstretched as he waited for the money. The one who spoke handed it to him as the other shouted gleefully. 

“Damn y/n, I knew you were a slut, but the woods? Really?” I spun around to face the shorter friend as he pointed at my shirt caught on the branch of a nearby tree, swaying rudely in the wind. 

I had been watching him but even I wasn’t quick enough to see it, in a split second the guy’s head snapped back harshly, and blood spluttered from his nose, spraying over the grass beneath him. Eddie pulled back his fist and shook it as he flexed out his fingers, his eyes flashing to the other senior as he ran to his friends aid. 

“Ow son of a bit-“ I stood rooted to the spot as Eddie examined his knuckles, watching the calm lines of his face strain as he kept his voice even and watched the dude he punched cower over in pain.

“Don’t ever call her that again. Don’t even look at her.” He flicked the bag of drugs at feet of the pair of them as the taller guy tried to wipe the steady stream of blood away and the other one cried out like a child. 

My eyes flashed to Eddie’s excitedly as he reached out his hand to me, holding his arm out behind his back as I leant forward to slide my shaking fingers into his secure ones, he gave me a reassuring squeeze as he tugged me away from the scene, shooting me a confused glance as I moved away from him to reach for my shirt. 

“Leave it, you look better in my jacket.” He shook his head as we walked back to the path, I laughed at his carefree expression, shocked at his ability to stray from the conformant of society so easily. 

“See y/n, I’m mean to everyone.” He joked, shooting a look over his shoulder as the pair of students disappeared around the corner the further we walked down the track, I watched in awe as his back muscles flex as he towed me forward. 

“Just not to me right?” I quipped back, the light airiness of my tone not quite concealing my sense of seriousness. My stomach tightened as Eddie looked at me with a mix of sadness and genuineness.  

“Never again sweetheart.” He squeezed my hand again with a small smile, his voice as honest as I’d ever heard it, his words sent a thrilling feeling of happiness through me because this time, I believed him. 

Part Four

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Also Readers - if anyone is looking for a slow burn Eddie x y/n, check out my Opposite Ends series :)

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