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munsons-maiden · 2 years

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𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎

I hope you enjoy this chapter! - Love, Kiki 🖤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Eddie Munson x female reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | THEN. You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected life line and turns your world upside down. NOW. Four months have passed since the winter night you walked out of Eddie’s trailer and his life for good. But when the mysterious headaches and nightmares return full-force and something wicked stirs in sleepy Hawkins, starting a witch hunt against Eddie, you realize that there are two things in this world that might be more persistent than you’d thought: Evil…and love. The story is told in two timelines: the past (after the Battle of Starcourt) and the present (during the events of season 4).

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut, it turned into a fix it fic for ST4

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (you need to be 18+ to read this story!), angst with a happy ending, attempted assault, bullying, canon-typical violence

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 6 k

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | allusions to SMUT (only read if you’re 18+ years old! virgin!Eddie x virgin!reader), mentions of attempted assault, canon-typical gore & violence, blood, mentions of spiders

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎

[Monday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.]

“You’ll die,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathed, “Probably. Go. Be ready to get her out of here.”

And he didn’t wait a second longer – because there was not a single second left to waste.

Amidst the rising flames, fierce determination flooding him, Eddie flung the warlock’s strap over himself, his gaze lifting to you, levitating above the ground, higher and higher towards the ceiling, an eerie vision in the growing inferno eating away the creepers, the furniture, devouring the dark mirror of his trailer like they’d devoured the boathouse.

Eddie ripped the guitar pick necklace from his neck, the snap of the chain drowned out by the hissing and shrieks of the burning creepers, the roar of the growing flames as his eyes locked on your ghostly white ones.

“Kick this son of a bitch’s ass and come back to me, sweetheart,” Eddie breathed.

And he began to play.

***

Loss.

Grief.

You’d felt it all before. How could you not?

Barb would always be the first person you’d failed to save, her death the first one to mourn.

And that November night last year had broken you in a way you’d never thought you could break, after everything you’d been through the summer of ’85 and the winters before.

But nothing compared to this agony spreading through you at the sight of Eddie, his lifeless body dangling from the vines wrapped around the pillar, the beautiful umber color of his eyes stolen like Vecna had stolen his life, tears of blood drying on his pale cheeks.

The sound of Eddie’s neck snapping echoed like a thunderclap in your mind.

No matter the horrors you’d faced, fought, been forced to commit those past three years – none of them had been able to break you. There had always been enough left to fight for, to keep you from giving up even in your darkest hours.

Nancy and Steve and Robin, the weird kids which suddenly belonged to this family of monster hunters you’d found, constellations of stars amidst the dark.

But Eddie…in those two months you’d gotten to know him, Eddie Munson had become the sun to chase away the darkness you’d found yourself plunged into, a supernova to light up the darkest hours, keep the horrors at bay – and put a warmth in your heart you’d never felt there before.

Eddie Munson with his unapologetic weirdness, his humor and kindness, the gentlest soul beneath the rough and menacing exterior…he’d shown you that there was good, so much good, even in the darkest of nights. And despite all the ways it had destroyed you to do what you’d done that night in November, Eddie had still been there. Alive.

And now he wasn’t anymore.

This time, there would be no getting back up, collecting the pieces and making the best of it.

You only wanted it to stop.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, on the sliver of a chance that Eddie would be able to hear the words wherever he’d gone. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Make it end. Make it stop. Make it all stop.

There was no fear in your heart when Vecna’s spidery fingers folded over your face.

Only relief.

Vecna’s pointed nails, claws, dug into your temples, piercing the skin, a stray droplet of blood slowly rolling down the side of your face.

Your eyes fell close as you waited for the pain, of eternal, peaceful darkness to claim you. And maybe, just maybe, bring you wherever Eddie had gone.

A sound floated through the air.

***

At the edge of town, back in Little River, at a lonely crossroads cutting through the fields, there had been a bar where Eddie’s old man had usually met clients to sell his pixie dust, or to play poker – and sometimes, he’d taken Eddie with him.

Eddie had hated those nights.

He still remembered how small he’d felt, a five-years-old alone at the bar between all those menacing looking men, most of them drunk long before sunset – and more often than not, there had been fights. Real fights. Fights which sometimes had ended with glass being smashed and one time even with a gun being pulled.

Eddie remembered how usually, the barkeeper – a grumpy old man who’d always looked like the zombies in one of the movies which always ran on TV late at night – had given him a pen and a paper napkin to draw and pass the time, which he’d done, until the napkin had been filled with doodles and Eddie had lacked the courage to ask for another one. Or move, for that matter. “Stay where you are, don’t move, and just wait til I’m back,” his old man had instructed before he’d disappeared into some backroom like the belly of a beast.

That night, though, there had been no doodles in a quiet corner at the bar, hidden by a wooden pillar so none of the menacing looking men would start talking to little Eddie like they’d sometimes done when they’d been drunk, the sour stench of cheap alcohol making it hard for him not to flinch away or scrunch his nose when they’d told stories of his dad.

No, that night, there had been a band.

Five men, with long hair and bandanas on their heads and funny looking clothes with leather and ripped denim and buttons with names of bands Eddie had never heard of before.

And the music they’d played had been loud enough to drown out the drunken talk and raucous laughter and angry shouts which had usually filled the dingy place. It had been different than anything Eddie had heard before, so different from the Country and Jazz music he’d been used to.

Better. So much better.

Something about it had went straight into his soul, the tunes vibrating through his bones and making him smile as he’d watched the musicians perform on the little stage at the back of the bar, his heartbeat thrumming alongside the tune of the guitars and drums and the scratchy voice of the lead singer as he’d watched them perform song after song, time flying and his fascination growing, overpowering his fear until the stinking, menacing bar around Eddie had blurred and there had only been this strange new kind of music.

It had been the night five-years old Eddie had fallen in love with Heavy Metal. The night he’d first known that all he’d need to be happy would be a guitar in his hands and a song on his lips.

When Eddie let the guitar pick glide of the strings of the guitar in his hands now, he wondered if fate had led him there that night back in Little River, to the dingy, dirty bar at a lonely crossroads at the edge of town.

Because had he not fallen in love with music that night…would he ever have tried to learn how to play a guitar?

Right then, with his eyes fixed on yours, eerie white amidst the quickly growing flames and thickening smoke, Eddie needed to believe it had been fate – because if it had been, then he was meant to save you.

Then it would work.

There were so many songs he could have played.

But Eddie chose the one which’s lyrics he felt deep within his own heart, the things he’d wanted to tell you back at the boathouse, at Skull Rock, and had been too cowardly to utter.

It couldn’t have given better voice to his heart if he’d written it himself.

He would. It was a silent promise he made to himself as the first notes of the guitar riff floated into the air. He would write you a million love songs, all the cheesy, sappy things he’d always wanted to tell you but had never been brave enough to. No matter where you went after this, no matter with whom you’d find your happiness, Eddie’s heart would forever be yours – and so would his songs. Each and every single one of them.

Please, let it be enough, he quietly begged every higher power that would listen.

His fingers were flying over the strings of his guitar, weaving the melody of the song to drown out the shrieks and hisses of the burning creepers, the noise of the growing flames morphing into a roar.

Let me save her.

And fierce determination flooding him, his eyes locked on your eerie white ones as your body was lifted into the air by the invisible strings of Vecna’s curse ensnaring you, Eddie began to sing.

***

It was quiet at first, that sound, and even with your eyes squeezed shut, you could feel Vecna still in front of you, the tips of his claws digging into your temples as he froze to listen.

Like a whisper, rising and building like a tide.

The ghost of...

A melody.

A melody as beautifully familiar by now as the pattern of dark specks in the umber hue of Eddie’s eyes, a melody you’d listened to every single night to help you find at least a few hours of rest in Morpheus’ metaphorical arms, wishing they were Eddie’s.

With the first few notes floating into the air, your eyes flew open.

The guitar with which’s strings those notes were being woven was as familiar to your heart as the boy it belonged to.

And with those first few notes, all the memories came rushing to you like a swarm of beautiful butterflies to match the ones in your chest whenever you thought of him.

The picture which had engraved itself into your mind, of Eddie’s lifeless form, eyes white as the drifting particles all around and wide with eternal terror as he was dangling in the creeper’s chokehold…it was chased away by another image.

Of Eddie, dark curls falling over his shoulders and into his face as his fingers gently worked to tune the instrument, his rings glittering in the sparse orange glow of his bedside lamp, an absentminded smile playing on his full lips while his long dark lashes cast soft shadows over his pale cheeks. So happy with his beloved guitar on his lap, as he got ready to play.

And a voice pierced the air.

A beautiful dark voice, lacing with the melody of the guitar as he started to sing.

“Here we stand

Worlds apart, hearts broken in two

Two

Two”

With a hiss, Vecna whirled around, his hand falling away from your face.

“Sleepless nights

Losing ground, I’m reaching for you

You

You”

Eddie.

“Feeling that it’s gone

Can’t change your mind”

This broken, lifeless figure in the creepers wasn’t Eddie.

Eddie was alive.

He was alive and singing to you and if he was alive and singing to you –

This wasn’t real.

“If we can’t go on”

It was a nightmare like all the others Eddie’s music had kept at bay for you all those Saturday afternoons with his songs.

“To survive the tide”

Just as he was doing right now.

“Love divides”

The bats. The horrible things Eddie had said to you, accused you of, calling you a monster before these things had pounced on him and dragged him away…none of it had been real.

The only real thing was this lair, this collection of horrors you’d so willingly entered because Vecna had once again lured you into a trap, elaborately woven with the skill of a spider spinning its web for the stupid little butterfly to catch in its sticky filaments.

And now you were dying and Eddie…Eddie would have to watch it.

Watch your bones snap, and your eyes sucked into your skull and your broken body fall from his ceiling just like Chrissy’s.

“Someday love will find you”

Vecna – Henry, One, whatever you called him now – whirled back around to you, bound to your own pillar, firmly in his grip, and his forget-me-not-blue eyes locked on yours as understanding passed between the two of you.

“Break those chains that bind you”

Fight him. You could nearly hear Eddie utter those words. Fight that son of a bitch, monster slayer. That’s what he was telling you right now, with every note and every word of the lyrics of this song he was singing for you.

Like a spell breaking a curse, the fight returned to you full-force.

A blazing wildfire fueled by your love for the boy with the guitar who refused to give up on you, and by your hatred for the monster in front of you who wanted to take him away from you.

“One night will remind you

How we touched and went our separate ways”

And with a roar of fury tearing from your throat, you ripped free of the creepers, making them hiss and screech as they were torn apart.

Vecna’s clawed hand shot out to grab your face once again. To finish what he’d started.

“If he ever hurts you”

Your own hands shot up, fists wrapping around his spindly, elongated fingers; one around his index finger, the other around his pinky, bile rising in your throat at the touch of his cold, rotting skin.

“True love won’t desert you”

“Fuck off,” you hissed – and twisted.

Hard.

As hard as you could.

The sound of bones snapping made grim satisfaction course through you as it rang through the air.

With a scream – of rage or pain, you couldn’t tell – Vecna reared back, his hand pulled from your grip as the rest of the vines fell away, a chorus of blood-curdling shrieks rising in the foggy air.

“You know I still love you”

You fell to the ground.

Though we touched and went our separate ways”

And you ran.

Ducking beneath Vecna’s arm as, with a roar that boomed through the air of his lair like a clap of thunder, he moved to grab you, but you were too fast.

Eddie was alive. Alive, alive, alive and singing to guide you home, back to him.

It would be okay. It would all be okay because he was still there, you could still save him, make it all right.

All you needed to do was make it out of this living nightmare, back to Eddie, and tell him the truth. All of it.

“Troubled times

Caught between confusion and pain

Pain

Pain”

And no matter if he would leave, no matter how he would react, he was alive and that was all that would ever matter because a world with Eddie in it was a world worth fighting for.

“Distant eyes

Promises we made were in vain

Vain

Vain”

You raced along, through this place of unspeakable horrors, through the forest that wasn’t a forest but a collection of horrors, beneath a sky that was crimson and a moon that was a broken clock, raced towards Eddie’s voice, the siren’s song that would guide you home, out of the raging storm and drowning depth and back to safer shores.

“If you must go

I wish you luck”

His voice drowned out the horror of the mutilated stolen souls strapped to their pillars all around you.

It propelled you forward, guided your way through the chaos of this dark heart of Vecna’s realm.

“You’ll never walk alone”

Vines reached for your ankles, lashing out like snakes in your path as you zigzagged and jumped out of their trajectory.

“Take care, my love”

If they got you, they would drag you back to that place, deeper into the vision, and it would be Game Over.

“Miss you, love”

Lungs on fire, muscles burning and your mind latching on to Eddie’s song, his voice, the fact that he was there and fighting this demon alongside you right now, you kept running, running, running –

Until you broke out of the maze of pillars.

There was the door, the crimson petals of the stained-glass roses visible through the fog which curled all around you like more of those creeping vines, and you raced towards it faster than you’d ever run in your life.

For the first time you were relieved to see it.

Your fist wrapped around the brass knob, ripping the door open.

Vecna’s roar of fury barreled through the lair behind you when you slipped through.

***

The flames were growing, eating at the black creepers which had been climbing over the walls of the trailer, devouring everything in their path as they spread in a circle around your hovering form, your spine pressed against the trailer’s ceiling now, arms spread like a pair of wings and milky eyes unseeing like a scene right out of one of Eddie’s horror movies. The beautiful maiden in the demon’s satanic grip.

White particles danced on the thickening smoke that forced its way into Eddie’s lungs with every breath, choking and burning, reflexes kicking in to make him cough and gasp for more of the receding oxygen in the smoke-laced air, but he couldn’t, because he needed to keep singing.

Until the end.

However it would look like.

Eddie would keep singing, playing his guitar, because it was the only chance you had.

***

You’d expected for the door to lead you out of Vecna’s lair, back to the top of the hill.

Well…you were outside.

The freezing November night was biting your skin underneath the fabric of your sweatshirt as you lifted your head to look at the myriad of stars splattered across the night sky arching above.

You were standing in the middle of the roof of Eddie’s trailer.

Surrounded by doors.

Dozens and dozens of doors suspended in a circle all around you, a sea of stained-glass roses.

“Did you truly think you could escape me so easily, little thief?”, Vecna’s voice boomed through the air, deep and distorted like the chimes of his broken clock as it vibrated straight through your bones, mocking and taunting because…yes. You had.

Max had done it after all.

“Max never belonged to this place the way you do,” Vecna’s voice drawled, so much louder now than Eddie’s song.

You ripped open the door you’d stepped through – and froze at the scene behind it.

The memory.

Of a girl writhing on the ground, struggling against the jump ropes binding her wrists and ankles. Duct tape over her mouth was muting her cries for help as you watched her try to break free of her restraints, the wheat blond color of her hair dulled by the dirt on the old steel mill’s floor, sticky with the blood running from a cut on her temple.

“Do you remember me?,” Your own voice, hollow. “Because I remember you, Stacy.”

“Do you remember how good you felt, taking revenge for that day when she locked you in that closet, little thief?”, Vecna’s voice crooned in your ears. “Because I do.”

You did. There was no point denying it.

You’d always known that the dark satisfaction you’d felt the moment the Mind Flayer – Vecna – had gotten the girl who’d made your life a living hell for those three years of middle school, had all been your own.

“You never told your songbird about this dirty little secret for a reason, hm?”

With a scream, you slammed the door closed, whirling to try the next one, dreading what you’d find behind the stained-glass roses.

It swung open, the wood creaking on its hinges, revealing the mutilated figures behind.

Chrissy, Fred and Patrick – and a fourth one, red hair spilling around her pale, blood-smeared face like flames, her eyes sucked out of her skull.

“Max,” you whispered.

“You have killed them. All of them,” Vecna taunted. “Max carries my mark. Just like your beloved songbird. They’ll be mine soon enough, no matter how hard you fight me.”

You slammed the door shut, tried to block out Vecna’s words as you scrambled to the next.

“I doubted if you were suitable, for what I needed you to do,” he continued to drawl, this horrid, bodiless echo surrounding you. “But you are. You are like me.”

And with these words forcing their way into your brain like a swarm of locusts…Eddie’s voice was fading.

As if you were sinking to the bottom of a lake, further and further away from the surface, slipping away from him.

No. No, no –

“No,” you choked, ripping open door number three, despair clawing at you as you darted through, away from Vecna’s droning, taunting voice –

No.

Not this memory.

You whirled around to escape, but the door was gone. All of them were gone.

And you were back on the clearing, the night sky winking down at you through the crown of trees above, leaves rustling in the breeze which carried the residual scents of summer lingering in the air, cool as it brushed over your bare arms and legs peeking out from your cheerleader uniform, the sweater and jeans you’d worn gone.

“EDDIE!”, you screamed. But of course there wouldn’t be a reply.

Eddie couldn’t hear you, and you…you could barely hear him anymore, either.

“Aw, don’t be shy,” a voice crooned, and you whirled around to come face to face with Jason’s razorblade-grin, the predatory gleam in his eyes, face so close to yours.

The stench of stale beer and sweat forcing its way into your nostrils made you want to retch.

“Go away,” you breathed. “You’re not real. You’re a monster in a memory.”

It didn’t feel like it, though.

He’d wanted to hurt you.

And he would have, probably more than Vecna and the Mind Flayer ever could.

Fear was freezing you like a deer in the headlights as Jason reached out. You felt the tug of the green silk ribbon coming lose, and your hair spilling free. Like a punch to your gut.

“I always thought you looked prettier with your hair down.”

“Don’t you want to make him pay?”, Vecna’s croon echoed through your head.

Yes.

Not for what Jason had tried to do to you, though – but for what Jason had done to Eddie, and what he’d have done had you not set the boathouse on fire in your despair.

Jason and Vecna, the Mind Flayer. Two monsters used to taking control from others to wield it themselves.

“You could have burned him to cinders. You would have. Do you want to know how I know? Because we are alike, little thief. And you know it. That’s why you never told your songbird the truth. You know he could never love the thing you truly are.”

You watched helplessly as the green silk ribbon fluttered to the dead leaves on the ground at your feet on the late-summer breeze, like a lonely paper-streamer left after a party.

And as Jason closed the distance towards you, something wrapped around your arms from behind, pulling you against the picnic table, the impact of the wood against your lower back so forceful that the wind was knocked out of you and the scream died in your throat as the creepers around your wrists tightened their iron grip until you felt the bones might snap underneath their force.

Shackling you.

Jason was right in front of you now, that vicious, predatory smile curving his lips.

Your eyes squeezed shut with terror, this horribly familiar feeling of helplessness. Always so damn fucking helpless.

“He wouldn’t want you, if he knew the truth, little thief.”

While he spoke, Jason’s voice morphed, growing deeper, distorted, until it wasn’t his anymore but Vecna’s, reverberating through the clearing along the stench of rot filling your nostrils and making bile rise in your throat.

And when your eyes flew open to lock on his, the steel-blue of Jason’s irises had made room for a deep forget-me-not blue.

Muted tears of horror were streaming down your face as Vecna, wearing Jason’s face, tilted his head.

Your mind was racing, grasping for the blurred tunes of Eddie’s song, so incredibly far away now, your lifeline in this deadly storm which was threatening to drown you.

“Do you truly think your songbird would be singing for you if he knew the truth?”, Vecna crooned, and with horror, you watched him morph, watched Jason’s freckles fade and his skin grow paler, lips softening and his hair growing darker, longer, curly bangs falling into his forehead until it was a dark reflection of Eddie standing in front of you, wearing Henry Creel’s forget-me-not eyes, the vicious smile on his lips so utterly wrong as his lips moved and Vecna crooned, “He cannot help you. He’s not strong enough. Nobody can. Do you want to know why, little thief? Because you’re bound to me. You did that yourself – and now you’ll make a beautiful addition to my collection.”

The twisted dark connection you’d felt standing at the shore of Lover’s Lake, beneath the gate in Eddie’s trailer…you knew Vecna was telling the truth. Whatever ties bound you to the monster, Eddie’s song wasn’t strong enough to sever them.

The spider had you ensnared too tightly in its web.

Still wearing Eddie’s face, Vecna raised a disfigured hand peeking out from the sleeve of Eddie’s leather jacket, the two spidery fingers you’d broken snapping back in place with a sickening crunch before he caught a stray tear rolling down your cheek.

Bile rose in your throat as the cold skin of his knuckle caressed your cheek.

“Don’t shy away. You wanted him to touch you so badly,” Vecna cooed.

Your head fell forward, gaze drifting to the fallen leaves at your feet because you couldn’t stand to see those blue eyes in Eddie’s face, the vile smile on his lips, the image of your love distorted by Vecna like the reflection in a funhouse mirror – and your eyes locked on the green silk ribbon, curled on the ground at your feet.

And a memory was triggered.

Not of that September night, when Jason had pulled the silk out of your hair.

But of another night.

“You’re beautiful.” Eddie’s whisper in the freezing night air as he was gazing down at you, beneath him, in his arms. The warmth shining in his eyes. The genuineness. And something else, something so much more.

“Even with my hair tied up?” The sting at the memory of Jason’s vile words, the image of a silk ribbon drifting to the ground, caught in the breeze – a memory Eddie had chased away with his beautiful confession.

“You always look beautiful. God, you have noooo idea how often I was watching you in the hallways, at lunchbreak…you were always reading. And you don’t wanna know how often I just…sat there, daydreaming about walking up to you and asking what it was you were reading and saying something, anything, to make you smile just to have this smile directed at me once. Like, I was sure if you ever gave me that radiant smile of yours, I’d just…I don’t know, go into cardiac arrest or shit. And then one day on a game day I accidentally ran into you at lunchbreak, and the entirety of your strawberry Jell-O was spilt all across your cheerleader uniform and for that split second, I thought, that’s it. I was pretty sure you were gonna snap at me to look where I was fucking going, call me a freak, the usual reaction people have even when I don’t do anything – but you didn’t. You laughed. And you smiled at me with this stunning smile and said –“

“’I was thinking the shirt could use a bit more color’”, you finished Eddie’s sentence, echoing your own words from that day on a whisper.

That had been two years ago. You’d been so sure Eddie had forgotten it, this tiny fleeting moment during lunchbreak. A lifetime ago.

“You remember that,” you whispered, the widest of smiles on your own face, and Eddie gave you a soft laugh before he replied, “Remember? I was a total goner. You could have asked me to braid Steve fucking Harrington’s stupid hair while singing Madonna and I would’ve done it, no questions asked. Like, that moment? I didn’t think about anything else for months. Not – not in the creepy way,” he added with a nervous little laugh, “Promise, not in the creepy way. Just…it was playing in my mind on repeat. Like, constantly.”

Eddie.

Sweet, kind, gentle, dorky Eddie. Who climbed tables and doodled bats all over the pages of his notes, who hummed to himself while reading and who carried music in the way he spoke and the rays of the summer sun in his smiles.

Eddie, who was singing for you right now, playing his beloved guitar to free you of this curse, the melody growing louder again, his beautiful voice clearer until the words of the lyrics rang through the air of the clearing.

Eddie had saved you from Jason. He’d given you back what Jason had taken that September night – with every kiss, every shared touch and whisper underneath the November stars.

And with this one memory, more flitted back to you like fireflies in the dark.

The woods around Lover’s Lake on a sunny late-summer’s day.

“Well, looks we’re in the same boat now anyway. The slut…”

“…and the freak,” Eddie finished your sentence with a cynical little half-smile of his own. “Or is it the slut and the perv now? Am I even still the freak or did they upgrade me?”

You laughed. “I guess we’re a team now.”

“Someday love will find you

Break those chains that bind you”

It grew louder. Eddie’s voice, his song, cutting through the fabric of Vecna’s chokehold over your mind.

“One night will remind you

How we touched and went our separate ways”

You clutched on to it, a green silk ribbon in your mind tethering you to Eddie’s voice.

Letting yourself sink into the warmth, the joy and happiness you’d felt every second with him, stored in each memory like strings of fairy lights to light the way home Eddie’s beautiful singing voice was paving for you.

“If he ever hurts you

True love won’t desert you”

Eddie, grinning at you as he walked backwards, umber eyes sparkling and curls painted a soft hue of chocolate in the sunlight filtering through the foliage of the woods around Lover’s Lake, his grin faltering as he tripped over a tree root, laughing it off.

“That was a test to see if you got my back, by the way.”

“Did I pass it?”

“You could have jumped a little faster to my rescue, but you made up for it with enthusiasm.”

Eddie, his sunshine-smile all for you as he opened the door to his trailer, curls ruffled.

His hands wrapped around a bottle of Yoo-Hoo, rings glittering.

“It’s water. With chocolate,” you exclaimed with a playful tone. “Who puts chocolate flavor into water? That stuff belongs into milk! It’s so wrong!”

“What’s wrong with you-hoo?!” Eddie taunted, and you laughed, before he added mischievously, “Despite, I’m pretty sure we could sue them if we found a single kernel of actual chocolate in there. Plus –“ he paused for dramatic effect, “You first put the chocolate flavor into water and then –“ he waved the Honey Comb carton in the air, “You add these. It’s a specialty. I can’t start the day without it. Since, like, forever.”

“You know I still love you

Though we touched and went our separate ways”

Eddie at Reefer Rick’s boathouse, haunted and scarred yet giving you the most radiant, softest smile as you’d raised the bottle of Yoo-Hoo you’d brought him, the old joke never forgotten. “You-hoo remembered.”

Eddie, kissing you beneath a myriad of stars that formed a halo of silver around his mane of curls, the strands black like the night sky in the pale glow.

“Just…I want this to…count. I want this to mean as much to you as it means to me.”

There were Vecna’s spindly fingers clamped around your jaw, forcing you to look at him now like Jason had done at the boathouse as he crooned, “When I’m done with you, when I have taken back what is mine, what you stole from me – I will take your songbird. I will break him, bone by bone. And when I’m done, I will shatter his mind the way you shattered his heart, little thief. And maybe then…I will put him out of his misery.”

The hatred blazing through you for this…this rotten creature in front of you, still wearing Eddie’s face, was enough to raise an inferno to match the fires of Hell themselves.

But you didn’t need an inferno.

“Oh, someday love will find you

Break those chains that bind you”

Letting your fury sear through you, you could feel the heat on your arms, your hands – and with blood-curdling shrieks, the iron grip of the creepers loosened.

And just like that night in the woods with Jason, your fist connected with your attacker’s jaw, so hard that you could feel the painful impact of the punch reverberating along your own bones.

Caught in momentary surprise, Vecna took a step backwards.

It was all you needed.

“True love won’t desert you

You know I still love you”

Pushing yourself away from the table, you darted around Vecna, anger twisting the features of the face he’d stolen from Eddie.

A door had opened right behind him.

No crimson stained-glass roses – but of worn-out wood, the paint flaking off, rust eating away at the frame.

The door to Eddie’s trailer.

Home.

“I still love you, girl”

It swung open as you raced towards it, your legs guided by Eddie’s voice, the song he kept spinning for you with his guitar.

“I really love you, girl”

He was there.

On the other side.

Standing in the middle of an inferno.

Fingers dancing over the strings of his guitar, dark curls flying as he threw his head back, umber eyes meeting yours through curling smoke rising all around him.

“True love won’t desert you”

And while the final note of the song floated into the air…you jumped.

***

You didn’t register the moment your body hit the ground, or the acidic burn filling your lungs and stealing your oxygen, your vision strangely contorted, red and yellow flickers dancing amidst a wall of fog.

For a second, you thought you were back on the hill. Still caught in the sticky spider’s web of Vecna’s trance.

Then, your name floated through the air on a broken scream, distorted and drowning in the roaring noise all around you, and so far away – before arms wrapped around you, and the ground shifted.

“I got you,” someone sobbed. It sounded hoarse, broken – but you would have recognized his voice in a crowd of a million people. “I got you, monster slayer. You’re safe, ‘kay? I’ll get you outta here –“

“Eddie,” you whimpered. It hurt to speak.

There was a flash of umber swimming in front of your eyes before they fluttered close, consciousness starting to slip out of your grasp as you were lifted off the ground.

“HARRINGTON! WHEELER! I GOT HER!”

“COME ON MAN!”

There was a chorus of voices rising around you, shouting instructions, words blurring and bleeding into each other until you couldn’t understand them anymore.

All you knew was that it hurt. Every breath singeing your lungs, throttling you. Every nerve in your body, ablaze with pain.

But you couldn’t wait a single second longer.

Eddie needed to know the truth. They all did.

“Vecna,” you whispered. “He’s…the Mind Flayer. Henry Creel. One.”

“What do you mean?!”

“Does that matter now, Nance?!”

Eddie’s voice, interrupting the others. “It’s okay. He can’t hurt you –“

“Four gates,” you whispered, the images Vecna had shown you alive in your mind, mingling with the horrors of his lair. You needed to warn them. Needed them to know – “Four killings. He’ll…tear down the barrier. Hawkins will fall. I did it.” The world was fading, consciousness slipping away like water running through your fingers. Quick. Too quick.

“Yeah,” Eddie choked, “Yeah, you did it, sweetheart. You’re safe –“

“No,” you choked, a weak cough ripping through you as your burning lungs failed. “I opened the door. I let him in.”

And then, the tide of darkness reached you.

Immersing you whole.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐

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

Sorry for the ten-days wait, lovelies. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I’m so excited for you to read what I have in store next for this story ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things eddie #eddie munson fix it fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #joe quinn

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thatmexisaurusrex · 4 months

Text

My Current Table of Contents

Lol finally changed the banner into something better 😂 Anyways, reposting an updated Table of Contents for my AO3 works. Check it out here or on my AO3 😆 :

Canon Divergence:

The Bucky Quest Saga, which tells the behind the scenes story between Sam and Bucky post-Captain America: the Winter Soldier through to The Falcon and the Winters Soldier and beyond that

A Captain and His Bucky which is what if Bucky was the original Captain America, Sam has been Captain America since the events Avengers Movie, Steve Rogers is the Winter Soldier, and Sam found Bucky thawing from a chunk of ice in SHIELD headquarters during the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier and has now taken him in to help him navigate life in the future

My Aaron Davis/Peter B. Parker Fake Marriage Enemies to Lovers Fic You're a Sunflower (I Think Your Love Would Be Too Much)

My Heimdall/Sam Wilson Post-TFATWS Fic Series, Loving Are All-Seeing Men and Midgardian Captains

Sam Wilson finds himself in a very strange game show with some asshole named Bucky Barnes, The Marriage Game

Two clubbing feelings with porn SamBucky fics. One that happens post-TWS during Bucky's European Tour and one that happens during the black market art auction nightclub scene in TFATWS. The fics titles, as well as this collection title, are based on lines in the song hand crushed by a mallet by 100 gecs, I didn’t get to tell you goodbye

A story about Sam and Bucky finding out that Sam's dead husband Riley is a Winter Soldier, Captain America, The White Wolf, and the Winter Soldier

A story about Bucky hearing Sam truly laugh for the first and a bonus series of vignettes about Bucky's twenty-three goats and their pun names, Sam and Bucky's Cabin

Time After Time, or my Sorcerer Supreme Sam Canon Divergence Fic

Back in the Gulf, where Sam Wilson tries to figure out where he fits in the world post-blip and if he wants Bucky Barnes to be part of his life.

My All Caps fic, sometimes that's all we need, an Endgame Canon Divergence where everyone lived, no one went old and went to the past, and Steve and Bucky are competing for Captain America Sam Wilson's love and attention

Five Times Bucky Got Dirty and the One Time Bucky Got Sam Dirty, a two-part fic about five times Bucky got dirty around Sam and the one time Bucky got Sam dirty

My gay chicken, post-blip, accidental undercover fake married fic, Playing with Fire

My Valentine's Day Fic about Sam Not Knowing He's Actually Dating Bucky, You'll Never Be My Maybe.

Meanwhile... a short two-part fic about Sam and Bucky figuring out their love for each other while on a mission.

My Gideon Visits and Shenanigans Ensue two-parter, A Surprise Visit

My IWTV Season 1, Episode 2 Loustat fic, I don't think you realize (but you are in my insides)

The Beyoncé Trilogy, a series of three fics inspired by the Beyoncé songs "Blow", "Cuff It", and "Texas Hold 'Em" that take place during an alternate version of CATWS.

Fantasy AUs:

My Fantasy/Medieval/Arranged Marriage AU, Golden is the Sun

His Wingless Stranger, which is a "What if WWII Bucky fell off that train into a world that spliced Tomorrowland with Hiyao Miyazaki and Sam lived in a future society where everyone has wings?"

My Zombie AU, ESCAPE TO WAKANDA

My Apothecary Meets Prince Who Accidentally Becomes His Apprentice Fic Series, The White Wolf Apothecary

My Star Wars AU, Star Wars Episode IV.V: The Phantom Hookup

Fairytale AU, The Little White Wolf

A story about monster Hunter Joaquín meets Vampire Sam and Werewolf Bucky in a bar, Joaquín Torres Monster Hunter

The Two Strangers, A post-apocalyptic future western SamBucky AU on a different planet

My Practical Magic inspired AU, Impractical Magic

My matelotage Pirate!Sam, Merman!Bucky fic, Reaching Out For You

My Future Kid Fic, Pre-Vampire Apocalypse fic Canary in the Coal Mine

My Selkie and Pirate two-part love story, The Selkie and the Pirate Elect

My If You Were the Last AU, The Hypothetical

The Midnight Lover, my bittersweet Vampire AU

My Percy Jackson and the Olympians AU, Sam Wilson and the Olympians

No Powers AUs:

My Single All the Way AU, A No Snow Christmas

My Popstar AU, The Only Thing That I Refuse to Forget

My one fantastic impromptu date fic, A Night With You

My airport chase confession fic My Best Friend's Brother

My Bachelor AU, If I Take You Home

My Christmas Fake Relationship Fic, For the Holidays

From That Show, my Sitcom Actors!AU

My High School AU fic, Walking and Running to You

My Anthologies:

The SamBucky Halloween 2021 Anthology I made for the SamBucky Halloween 2021 event the SamBucky Library is hosting

The WinterFalcon Week 2021 I participated in that's being hosted by the WinterFalcon Week tumble

The Nine Short Dates with Sam and Bucky ficlet series I made

The Sambtember Ficlets and Drabble Anthology I created for the Samtember event hosted by the Sam Wilson Fest tumblr

The Kinktober Collection 2021;

Water They Waiting For anthology series. It's 9 writers, 19 stories, and a lot of sexual tension involving water

My SarahBucky fics for Fleur de Louve Month2021

My SamBuckyTorres anthology, Captains and Falcons and White Wolves, Or My!

My collection of three fics for the MYSU Holiday Gift Exchange 2021!

My collection of fics based on the SamBucky Library's Candy Hearts Event 2022, SamBucky Library's Candy Hearts Event 2022 Fic Anthology

My collection of stories inspired by my the Daily SamBucky Fluff Diary on my tumblr, The Daily SamBucky Fluff Diary Auxiliary Stories

My collection of fics based on the 2 card of the MYSU Valentine's Day Bingo 2022, MYSU Valentine's Day Bingo 2022 Fic Anthology

My collection of fics based on the photos in post by hot-chocolates-world on tumblr, The Tush Collection

My collection for the SamBucky AU Week 2022, My SamBucky AU Week 2022 Collection

My collection of Drabbles and Ficlets for Samtember 2022

My collection of WinterFalcon Bingo Round Two 2022-2023 Bingo Fills

My collection of fills for SamBucky Halloween Bingo 2022

My collection of fills for the Sam Wilson Bingo Round 2

My collection of fills for the SamBucky Festive Bingo 2022

My collection of fills for TFATWS Anniversary 2023 Fics

My collection of All Caps Bingo Round One 2023 Fills

My collection of SamBucky Summer Bingo 2023 Fills

My collection of Samtember 2023 Fills

My collection of SamBucky Halloween Bingo 2023 Fills

My collection of SamBucky Gift Event 2023 Fics

My collection of SamBucky Valentine's Day Bingo 2024 Fics

My SamBucky One-Shots!

My Other One-Shots!

#table of contents #sambucky #sambucky fic #sambuckyquin #all caps #samriley #sambuckyriley #just #a lot of fics #all good stuff #check it out #happier with this banner lol

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trashpocket · 2 years

Photo

sketch spread of steve and eddie (ft robin, lucas, max, and one rockstar!eddie) // and the older steve and eddie were based on My Grave is Mine to Dig steddie <3

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #stranger things #steve x eddie #art #GOD #I LOVE THEM SM #my grave is mine to dig is my fic btw #T-T #i just love drawing them from my fic too much #like gosh #monster hunter steve #falling in love with THAT eddie #his neighbor #from across the street #ily

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stoncyweek2023 · 1 year

Photo

Dates: July 24 - 30, 2023

Rules: Make whatever you want, as long as it celebrates the Jonathan/Steve/Nancy romantic relationship! Fic, art, video, etc (all mediums are encouraged). Don’t forget to tag your work with #stoncyweek2023 and have fun!

Prompts (No need to follow these if you don’t want to. They’re just for fun!)

Day 1 - July 24th: Monster Hunter Trio OR Christmas Evening OR Spy AU

Day 2 - July 25th: Figuring out how this works OR Getting a Good Night’s Sleep (for the first time in a long time)

Day 3 - July 26th: Halloween ‘84 OR “I think there’s something in the woods…” OR Next Door Neighbor

Day 4 - July 27th: Third wheel isn’t a wheel OR Role Swap AU

Day 5 - July 28th: Ambulance OR “I’m sorry, who are you?” OR Miscommunication

Day 6 - July 29th: The lights are out OR Secretly Dating

Day 7 - July 30th: Long Distance Relationship OR Coming to Hawkins Early OR Modern AU

Alternate Prompts:

2 of the 3 dated or were ‘involved’ before Season 1

Steve doesn’t see Jonathan and Nancy in Nancy’s bedroom

A falls in love with C because of B talking about them so much

Please make sure to spread the word by reblogging this post and tagging anyone you think might be interested!

Add your AO3 fics to this collection!

Join us in the Stoncy discord!

#Stoncy #Jonathan Byers #Steve Harrington #Nancy Wheeler #Stranger Things #Stoncy Week #Stoncy Week 2023

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lollytea · 1 year

Note

One of Hunter's bi awakenings was when he realized he wouldn't stop reading fanfic of Captain O'Bailey x reader (and male! reader if you wanna make it gayer) and he went "wait a minute..."

and I like to think that Willow's bi/pan/omni awakenings was probably being clingy with Luz. "Yeah, I just LOVE having a female friend my age that isn't Amity. She's so cute and cool and funny and pretty and I'd kiss her given the chance-"

I see Hunter as liking girls SO much. Like even as the Golden Guard, a few years before he met Willow, he used to fantasize about himself carrying out heroics and he always just included some pretty girl watching and being very impressed. He never really thought about other genders until a little while later.

Although I also like the idea that he had a baby crush on Steve at some point. That's so funny to me. Steve peaks his interest in other genders, so now he's a little more open to the idea.

There is some big strong violent brooding dude in Rulers Reach and Hunter is into him!!!

Afsvjdbk when Hunter reads Cosmic Frontier, his thoughts on O'Bailey is just like. He's me. I'm him. I think he'd be a very strict canon compliant bitch. O'Bailey has a botanist wife and Hunter is very protective of that relationship and can't deal with his wife being erased in fics. HOWEVER.....fics set before O'Bailey met his wife? Where he travels the galaxy and has a romantic tryst with some alien dude on another planet??? Hi, yes, Hunter is listening. Especially if the alien boyfriend is like. All fanged and furry or scaly or BIG or weird looking. Hunter is into monsters, I know he is.

Tbh I never saw Willow as having a specific awakening but rather it was just something she was always just naturally aware of. I often wonder how the lack of homophobia on the Boiling Isles effects how people come to understand their own sexuality, and I figure it just results in them being a lot more indifferent to it from an early age. Like even before Willow really developed any romantic feelings for anybody, she could easily picture herself marrying a person of any gender. She didn't really have a preference. She still doesn't.

She snuck into the YA romance section of the library with Amity when they were kids and she was enchanted with several characters of various genders. She liked the Prince Charming types. She skimmed through the chapters to get to the part where they take their shirt off. She liked the silly plucky girl heroines with swords.

If you think about it, her fascination with both Luz and Hunter was very similar. Like "WOW what a freak (affectionate) I need to study them." She was down to kiss Luz if she asked but she never really got to the point of seriously falling for her. However studying Hunter under a microscope sent her tumbling down a rabbit hole and now she's completely smitten with him.

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nhasablogg · 8 months

Text

Icarian (allow the ground to find its brutal way to me)

Fandom: Stranger Things

Summary: Steve is running through the forest. He can feel his hunter closing in.

A/N: Thiiiiiis is some sort of attempt at writing something... Halloweeny? Spooky? Suspenseful? Idk. I was thinking I would try to write some Halloween esque fics throughout the month, but we'll see if I'll write more than this heh. Hope you like it!

Words: 1.3k

Steve was doing his best to not trip over tree roots that had infested the ground of the forest. Seriously, he couldn’t remember it ever being this bad. Only when he was running, which he currently was, when the roots were death traps more than nuisances. Of course that was when they decided to appear. Just his luck.

Heart in his throat, Steve jumped over a fallen tree branch, wondering if the forest was out to get him as much as his hunter was. It was strange that it was just during moments of complete panic that his mind managed to produce coherent thoughts in between all his absolutely jumbled ones. It was nearly funny, hearing the logical ones amidst the screaming and cursing, because that was all that he managed to really think as he ran through the semi-darkness. That and the occasional hunch that told him in what direction to run in, as if that would help. As if he wouldn’t get completely obliterated before managing to get out of this godforsaken forest.

Yet all the time spent among these trees, dates and mischief and the occasional need to just get away, led his feet in what he knew was the most suitable direction. Even though his mind and body were freaking out entirely, one part of him was doing its utmost to get him through this with as few scratches as possible. He could hear his hunter closing in and took a left, going deeper into the forest toward thicker trees, hoping to lose him enough that the noise and movement of the bushes wouldn’t matter. That his panicked gasps for air wouldn’t be audible.

He wasn’t sure how the hell he’d ended up here anyway. A day as any other, foggy and muggy, not at all the fall weather they were used to. Maybe the fog was what had resulted in this chase, was what had given Steve time to flee in the first place and get this far without being caught. But the fog was also making him uncertain, feeling as if he would trip over stones at any turn. Slowing him down, or so he assumed. His form wasn’t what it had been in high school, but he’d run away from enough monsters to know what adrenaline could do.

The mugginess was making his shirt cling to his chest, a piece of hair stuck to his forehead. “It’ll be fine,” Dusting had said, shoving a tree branch out of the way and letting it go before Steve had been able to get past it.

“You’re an asshole,” he’d replied, just narrowing missed having his fucking face whipped. “This will end badly, I’m telling you.”

“Since when were you a pu-”

“Shit, fuck!” The memory was interrupted by his ankle slamming into something and he fell headfirst toward the ground, finding himself lucky to land on something soft. He could imagine how easily he would come out of this with a stick through his eyeball, blood everywhere, excruciating pain turning him into nothing but wailing. But all he got was a scrape over his wrist where he tried and failed to catch himself against mossy bark. He lay there, for a moment, allowing himself to whimper through his heavy breathing once before falling silent. Listening. Knowing damn well no one could’ve missed that fall. Or?

The forest was quiet, sans the occasional rattling of leaves high above, and Steve tried to press his body as flatly against the forest floor as he could. All he could smell were leaves and dirt, all he could feel was the thudding of his ankle and the hammering of his heart.

“You’re not scared, are you?” That voice, only heard in his head, was inevitably Dustin’s, although the tone was different. The tone was playful in a way Dustin never was. Not accusing enough to be Robin’s, although she would probably have told him to stop being a wimp, too. Although he had Eddie’s voice entirely memorized he was grateful it wasn’t his, even though the words so obviously were. Steve’s heart was already frantic enough from the chase.

This was ridiculous. He was never speaking to Dustin again once he got out of here.

The sound of a twig breaking was what made him scramble to his feet again, realizing that if he was to be stagnant he couldn’t do it there, on semi-open ground, and so he started lugging his body through the trees again, his ankle protesting slightly but otherwise seeming uninjured. The fog seemed to have cleared up slightly, or maybe he had simply gotten used to it. It felt as if he’d been running for hours, but he knew it had barely been ten minutes. He couldn’t even have gotten very far. Was running in circles for all he knew.

“It will be fun,” Dustin had said, dumping his bag on the ground as the group gathered around him. “A trial of endurance. Of speed. Of survival skills.”

“Now you’re overdoing it,” Lucas had said and Steve had been glad someone else was voicing their disapproval. But Eddie had seemed excited, and so Steve hadn’t protested again. He was kind of regretting it now.

“You nervous?” Eddie had asked him quietly, breath against Steve’s cheek. Steve had shaken his head, had acted tough about it. But of course he’d been nervous, and now he regretted not being honest. It made him feel pathetic, tripping through the forest, hunted for fucking sport. How he’d survived literal monsters in the past he couldn’t explain.

He stopped in his tracks just before falling over a fallen tree, cursing under his breath as he tried to climb over it quickly. Too many obstacles in too little time. He felt as if his hunter was breathing down his neck now, and he turned around only to prove to himself that it wasn’t the case, and ended up with a hand around his arm dragging him back over the stem.

He screamed in surprise, then in slight terror, and then, finally, in panic as fingers dug into his abdomen, making his whole body twitch against Eddie’s. When Steve got a glimpse of him through his ticklish laughter, he saw that he was just as flushed as him.

“Fifteen minutes,” Eddie said, stilling his fingers and leaning down to press his lips to Steve’s temple. “You might survive.”

“I’ve survived before,” Steve said, feeling grumpy. “That’s why I don’t get this exercise.”

“Eh, it’s good to hone your skills.”

“And entertain the kids.”

“That too.” Eddie curled his fingers over his belly again and Steve tried to shove him away, but the way they’d landed had Eddie hovering over him and it made it harder to get away. “But now you’re at the mercy of the tickle monster.”

“You’re so annoying.” It might’ve sounded serious had Steve not been giggling, exhausted, ticklish, glad this stupid experience was over. “Not there-”

“Oh here?”

“Eddie.”

Eddie laughed, but left his belly alone. Unfortunately it only meant he moved upward, to the sides of his ribs, making Steve squirm into the earth beneath him, feet kicking, profanities flying. But it was all nearly - nearly - worth it when Eddie kissed him, the two of them entangled for as long as they felt they could get away with it.

“Did you fall before?” Eddie asked once he’d helped him up, brushing leaves off of him. “I thought I saw your tumble out of sight.”

Steve sighed. “I did. It fuckin’ hurt.” Not that much, but he felt he needed some sort of sympathy after being dragged into this. “I thought you’d catch up.”

“I got confused and stopped, but heard you once you got up again.”

Steve hummed. He felt as if Eddie had paused on purpose to let him catch his breath, but didn’t call him out on it. “You be the prey next time. See how you like it.”

“Sweetheart.” A hand around Steve’s waist. “There’s nothing I’d like more than to be chased by you.”

#tickling #ticklish!steve harrington #steddie #stranger things fic #steddie fic #stranger things #tickle fic #but like.... barely #n writes #Icarian (allow the ground to find its brutal way to me)

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bigbangharringrove · 3 months

Text

Week 5 Wrap-Up (2/26-2/29)

It is officially posting month for this event, and some amazing creations have already been posted! Every week we'll be doing a round-up of every post so you don't miss anything. Also, be sure to check out the Ao3 collection here.

Tumblr/AO3

Mr Steve and the Monster Hunter - Fic and Art by @dragonflylady77 and @adelacreations

Text to Heart - Art by @raven-cl

They're Burning All of the Witches (Even if You Aren't One) - Fic by @theladycarpathia

Separate Ways - Art by @lemonhitsu

Tied Together With A Smile (But You’re Coming Undone) - Fic by @mourntheantagonist and Art by @disterra

Moonflower, Mine - Fic by @bigdumbbambieyes and Art by @hellfirefucker

Barbarian Youth - Fic by @thissortofsorcery and Art by @decadentworld

#harringrove bigbang #harringrove bigbang promo #hg bigbang wrapup #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #stranger things

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atmilliways · 10 months

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Wrong On The Money (32)

part 32 of ?? | 1207 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

Steve bursts through the door like some sort of floppy haired, athletic puppy. “Hey Eds, look who I found!” He’s dragging someone behind him by the wrist, and a very nonplussed Jeff waves hello.

(cw references to Billy's racism)

32.

Eddie has finally moved up from bed rest to shuffling around the house sometimes as long as he takes frequent breaks. Which he’s happy to do, because his PT exercises always kick his ass right into nap time. The new couch in the new living room is actually comfortable, and it's a relief to escape from his now over-familiar bedroom.

Steve bursts through the door like some sort of floppy haired, athletic puppy. “Hey Eds, look who I found!”

He’s dragging someone behind him by the wrist, and a very nonplussed Jeff waves hello. Mouth dropping open, Eddie raises one hand for a weak wave back.

“I have to go back to the store,” Steve says, all but bouncing on the balls of his feet as he circles back to the door. “I kinda forgot about groceries for a minute there, so, still need to get those. But you two should catch up!”

“Uh, okay?” Eddie says, and Steve flashes him a grin and two thumbs up before disappearing again.

“What,” Jeff starts, sounding shaken, “just happened?”

Eddie shrugs. “Steve Harrington.”

“He knows where you live? He calls you Eds?”

“If it helps, the nickname is new. And, uh . . . he kind of lives here too. Loooong story.”

Jeff shoots him an incredulous look. Then he asks where the PBR is, shaking his head when Eddie admits that he can’t drink on his meds so there's none in the house. (“I can have one beer,” Eddie has whined many times, but always gets a blunt no from Wayne or Steve in response. He’s given up on sulking about it.)

First, they sit on the couch with a can of Coke each and catch up.

Jeff’s family did leave Hawkins, but only until it was declared safe again. They’re staying with his aunt on the outskirts of town—and Eddie doesn’t know her number, which is why his calls never went through. Jeff’s actual house is still undergoing repairs before they can move back in. He’s taking a year off before college to take some of the financial pressure off his parents.

Gareth and his mom are camped out in a hotel, taking advantage of the government’s emergency subsidies for families whose houses were totally leveled. They’ll probably stay in town and buy new.

“Frank’s folks had to move, though,” Jeff admits. “He’s on the other side of Roane County now. The high school over there doesn’t even have a D&D club.” A pause. “Oh, and I wrote to Margaret, she’s coming to visit next month to, and I quote, ‘take in the ineffable shitshow that is Hawkins, Indiana.’ I think New York is getting to her, man.”

And shit, it’ll be good to see Margaret again, same way it’s good to see Jeff and it’ll be good to see Gareth. Frank too, whenever he can swing by. Because the thing about being suddenly folded into a new friend group of monster hunters is . . . Eddie still misses his old gang. One is silver and the other’s gold, and all that bullshit.

Eddie, for his part, gives a perfunctory explanation of the house (“Government restitution for our old place and my criminal record going through the meat grinder”) and Steve’s presence (“We talked it out, the past few months he’s just been . . . paying rent in advance”).

Silence creeps in. Eddie sips at his Coke, slurping it in little mouthfuls as if that might continue to delay the inevitable.

It doesn’t.

“So . . . what the hell happened, man?”

Eddie tries not to look directly at his friend. “You mean to Hawkins?” He’d signed a shit-ton of NDAs while high off his ass on painkillers, but that still feels like the easier question to answer.

“Dude, everyone knows about the earthquake,” Jeff scoffs. “I mean with Harrington. If you talked it out with him, why is he playing the Alfred to your Bruce Wayne?”

Thinking back to the demobats, Eddie snorts. If only Jeff knew.

He doesn’t tell him, though. Not because of the legalities—fuck that shit, this whole mess was the government’s fault to begin with, he’s pretty sure. It’s just that, Eddie wishes he didn’t have to know. He’s not going to inflict that on a friend.

But he does explain about Steve, more or less.

“Okay,” Jeff says finally. “So you’re telling me that gas leak a few years ago killed Barbara Holland actually in his backyard, and the government covered it up but he still felt guilty for some reason, so he started making up for it by being less of a douchebag.” Pausing for a moment, Jeff frowns as he goes over it in his head the same way he would a campaign, ticking unspoken points off on his fingers. “The timeline works, I guess. . . . I don’t remember him causing much trouble for anyone after that fall. Hagan got worse, and Hargrove was a fucking nightmare, but the worst Harrington did was not be quite popular enough anymore to keep them in check.” Jeff looks up at Eddie. “And then . . . he started babysitting nerds? Our freshman nerds.”

They’d literally seen Steve pick the kids up from Hellfire games all school year—from a distance at first, and then close up once the blackmail had been set in motion. But Eddie gets it, because he hadn’t understood it at first either.

“Dustin’s got him wrapped around his little finger,” he confirms. “All the little shits do. Remember when he came to school with his face all rearranged by Hargrove? Asshole was gunning for Lucas.”

That makes Jeff’s eyebrows twitch together and his mouth set in a grim line that Eddie doesn’t often see. Eddie can practically see his opinion on Steve going up based on Jeff’s own run-ins with Hargrove. “Christ.”

“Yeah.” Eddie plays with his now empty Coke can, pushing the aluminum sides in and then popping them back out again. “And then I fucking blackmailed him.”

“Not very successfully, though,” Jeff points out, scratching at the side of his jaw. “Not if his real motivation for giving you money was wanting to help out and work off some of his guilt about Barbara. Actually, he’s the one who led you on, and nobody was being intimidated by anybody. Which—I’m not going to say I told you so, but I definitely called it.”

Sputtering, Eddie tugs the tab off his can and flicks it at him. “Dick!”

“And are you still crushing on him hard?”

This time, he throws the whole can, but Jeff ducks it.

“That’s a yes.”

“We’re friends now,” Eddie hisses, pulling hair across his face to hide his embarrassed flush. “He saved my life, and based on his cooking alone I think he’s slowly becoming Wayne’s favorite son. I can’t—”

“You said Steve was the one who brought up living with in the first place,” Jeff points out. “He knows you were both at that club for the same reason, maybe he’s . . . you know, interested. Did you ever think of that?”

“No,” Eddie grumbles, lying. “Look, Steve didn’t want to live under his asshole parents’ roof anymore. That’s it.”

He refuses to read anything else into it. That way madness lies, and too much seeing what he wants to see rather than what’s actually there.

#steddie blackmail fic #cw references to billy's racism #eddie munson #steve harrington #jeff (stranger things)#if steve is a golden retriever then eddie is a gangly ostrich sticking his head in the sand #steddie #steddie fic

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patchworkgargoyle · 5 months

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🩸 A Steddie Big Bang Fic 🌙

Chapter 6

story by: @patchworkgargoyle || art by: @mcdadarts || playlist to come by: @steves-strapcollection || beta'd by: @tboygareth Rating: E || Words: ~6k || CW: blood drinking, accidental to intentional voyeurism, mutual masturbation (kinda) || Full tag list on ao3! Fic title from Wolf Like Me - TV On The Radio We're getting into the spicy shit with Eddie's pov today, folks! Mind the content warnings.

The research crew lasted twenty minutes after Harrington left before they gave up studying. Dustin insisted they’d checked every single musty tome even vaguely related to werewolves already and found nothing, and sitting there going through them all again was a waste of valuable time.

What wasn’t a waste, apparently, was sitting in the Harrington’s living room and watching a recorded version of Grease, commercials and all. Not that it mattered, because the kids all talked over themselves during the whole movie anyway. Though, sometimes, Eleven (and Eddie had yet to have that name explained) stopped to sing along under her breath and it warmed Eddie’s cold, sluggish heart so much that he sang Greased Lightnin’ with her. He hoped that would save him from facing Max’s brutal wit being turned on him for being a metalhead singing to a damn musical.

These children that Steve surrounded himself with–or, from the stories Dustin had been telling, it sounded like they adopted him instead–were insanely brilliant and brave, and the way they talked about Steve now that he wasn’t around wasputting even more cracks in the walls Eddie had put up to keep Steve at a distance. Not that it’d been working well in the first place. Steve himself had smashed a hole through it when he offered Eddie his own blood (something Eddie did his level best to Not Think About), despite only knowing Eddie for a little over a week. But Dustin, Max, and El, all so much more like Eddie than Steve was in school, and yet here they were, describing how he’d stopped some kind of lost swamp creature from ruining a farmer’s field, and probably being killed for it, with nothing but his charm and a big bag of compost. What a big damn hero he was.

So, sue him if he’d been rethinking all of his Doctrine bullshit. Steve wasn’t King of Hawkins High anymore; he was grumpy on the mornings he had an early shift, he indulged Eddie’s long-winded ramblings, owned a terrifying amount of medieval weaponry, and he took care of his people. And Eddie had found himself temporarily counted amongst them. It chafed and made him feel special at the same time.

Sometimes he found himself sneaking around the gym attached to the monster hunter library while Steve–no, Harrington swung around all sorts of dangerous and spiky implements in a training regimen designed to put all his rippling muscles on very athletic display. Eddie told himself he was studying up. In the unlikely event that Harrington did turn on him, of course. It was the smart thing to do.

Eddie had zoned out thinking of said training when he heard a car door close outside. Snapped out of his daydream, Eddie's head twitched towards the noise, and when Max’s did too all the kids were on high alert.

“That’s not Steve and Robin,” Max warned.

Dustin looked at Eddie, wide-eyed, and Eddie felt his hands clench in the arm of the couch. “Maybe it’s one of your moms?” he suggested, but Max shook her head. “Fuck.”

“It’s fine, I’ll answer the door, people know me and Steve are like this,” Dustin wrapped his middle finger over his index, “so that shouldn’t give anything away. I’m here all the time!” His nonchalant shrug did nothing to conceal how his voice cracked nervously and Eddie’s confidence sank lower. “Y’know what, maybe they’re just turning around and won’t even knock–”

Three hesitant knocks echoed down the foyer and Dustin winced.

Max glared, unimpressed. “You jinxed it, moron.”

“Shut up!” he hissed. Waving his hands around like a manic conductor, Dustin made everyone sit in silence while he stared at the door. Eddie hoped this would work, just waiting the person out, but his hopes were dashed when they heard slightly more frantic rapping. “Shit. Alright. Time for Plan B. Eddie, prepare for Plan C.”

“What’s Plan C!?” Eddie whispered anxiously. He hid his face in his hands when Dustin copied Eddie’s Dracula pose from earlier. “No, no, absolutely not, Dustin. Wait, hey!”

The kid raced to the door when the knocking came back and Eddie flung himself to the floor to not risk being seen. The sound of the lock was all the warning he got before Dustin opened the door and: “Oh, um. Hi there, you’re Steve’s friend right?” Eddie knew that voice. “Is he here still?”

Eddie popped up over the couch. “Chris?”

She grinned and waved, so Eddie scrambled off the floor and ran to tug her inside, deftly avoiding the sunshine, then wrapped her in a tight hug. Seeing her was more of a relief than he’d thought. Being stuck in Steve’s house without his stuff, his friends, his uncle…

“Oh fuck, I forgot to leave a note for Wayne.”

Chrissy snort-laughed into his shirt. “He called me and I told him you were okay, but I had to make sure.” She stepped back. “You do look okay. Good, actually. Even though, uh,” she trailed off and saw Dustin standing at the closed door wiggling his eyebrows at Eddie.

He narrowed his eyes at Dustin and subtly shook his head, only getting an eye roll in return. “We’ll talk about that later, I think,” Eddie said. “In the meantime, wanna help me babysit?”

After introductions were made–and El made Chrissy giggle when she bluntly but admiringly stated, “You’re very pretty,”–and they’d all settled back in, Eddie found that Chrissy fit right in. Dustin was a little starstruck at first, which Eddie chalked up to the whole freshman nerd kid and senior cheerleader thing, but as soon as she started asking about the summer camp hat he wore he started infodumping like his life depended on it. Chrissy, used to listening to Eddie’s endless speeches, participated like a pro. The way Dustin’s grin kept growing made Eddie think she’d just earned a friend for life. Eventually Max peeled Dustin away from Chrissy with a few well-placed taunts so she and Eddie could catch up.

Chrissy’s life had been going along as normal, though she’d been keeping tabs on Jason just in case, she told Eddie. He wished that hadn’t made her wince with guilty regret, but they’d fought before over her relationship with him so badly once it nearly cost him their friendship, so he kept his opinion to himself. As far as she knew, though, Jason was acting normally.

Eddie had a little more to talk about. Gossiping about Steve with her was a relief; who knew he’d learn so much about the former King in just a few weeks of forced cohabitation?

“You know, he mumbles to himself,” Eddie said, ignoring that he was also mumbling. “He’ll mumble and when I try to talk back he gets in a little snit and says ‘I wasn’t talking to you!’” Chrissy giggled at his very poor impression of Steve’s voice. “What does he expect me to do? He asks himself questions and I answer and he gets all bitchy at me. But I can’t win, because, get this, he’ll bitch at me again when I don’t respond because he’s mumbling in the same damn tone!”

Eyes sparkling with mirth, Chrissy covered her smile with a hand, her knees tucked up to her chest on the couch. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” she teased.

“I don’t like your tone,” Eddie said, eyes narrowed. Her smile grew wider behind her hand, and when she raised an eyebrow he folded his arms. “Don’t get any ideas, Cunningham.”

“No, nope, no ideas.”

He glared at her for a few more seconds before a song came on over the TV that jogged his memory and he pointed at the screen. “And you know what else he does? He sings. Into objects. Like his hairdryer, straight out of the movies like a weirdo!”

A loud snort caught his attention and Eddie’s gaze snapped to Max who was watching Eddie from the corner of her eyes with a smug, knowing expression. He felt like a deer in headlights suddenly, until Max rolled her eyes and went back to talking to El and Dustin.

“Despite all that, looks like you’re doing pretty well here. And you don’t seem, um, thirsty.” She whispered the last word with a curious quirk to her brow, and Eddie shrugged.

“Got it covered, the last time. You don’t need to worry about me so much, Chris, you’ve got your own stuff to handle.”

“Yeah, okay, my best friend being framed for murder isn’t something to worry about,” she said, rolling her eyes before turning sombre. “Eddie, I’m gonna worry until you’re safe. I hate that I can’t do anything about it.”

Eddie shifted in his seat. He was always uncomfortable with people worrying over him, but it’s not like she was wrong. This was serious, the worst scrape he’d ever been in and he didn’t even know why it was happening in the first place. Dragging a hand down his face, he heaved a sigh and looked down at the floor. “Sorry, Chris. You’re doing enough just by being here.”

Her mouth pursed unhappily, but before she could say anything more, car doors slammed outside once again and Max perked up.

“Steve’s home.”

Before he could react, the door flung open and Steve stood there, his eyes darting across the group. When he caught sight of Chrissy, he sagged. Robin, right behind him, looked ready to fight until she also saw that everyone was fine.

Eddie tracked Steve as he trudged up the stairs without a word. He was smeared all over with dirt, his face grim and tense, but the walkway above obscured him from view before Eddie could get a better read on him. Robin drifted into the living room and curled up into the one empty chair, almost swallowed by the plush cushions. Dustin got up and switched the TV off.

“What happened?” he asked.

“‘Nother werewolf,” Robin said quietly, and the words spread like a shockwave through all of them.

So, Dustin’s plan had worked. The killer struck again, proving that Eddie was innocent, but also that there was someone with a vendetta against werewolves. Steve must’ve had to bury the body too, and that made Eddie’s stomach drop to his feet. With a glance up, he saw Max looking more stormy than usual. She, Robin, and Steve were all in danger, then, more so than Eddie himself was, in his opinion, and now he really understood how Chrissy felt. How could he help them, stuck in this house, unable to go out in the daytime, waiting for the killer’s next move? His hands started to shake, whether it was with fear or anger he couldn’t tell, but he stuck them under his armpits and squeezed, ignoring the way his jaw tensed and his leg started to bounce.

“I’m so sorry, Robin,” Chrissy whispered, and Robin’s head snapped up like she didn’t even realise Chrissy was there, her eyes going wide.

Robin nodded, her surprise quickly eaten away by dread and she murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Were there any new clues?” Dustin asked with an unusual amount of respect.

“Steve and Hopper didn’t find anything, but Jason Carver showed up and said some things. Steve could tell it better but, uh, he should rest. This was… hard on him.”

“Jason?” Chrissy frowned.

“Yeah, I dunno, something about finding the body first but Steve didn’t really wanna talk about it. I think, maybe, we should talk about it in a day or something.” Robin fidgeted with her rings, looking from Chrissy to upstairs to the floor.

Eddie’s eyes were drawn to the upper floor where he could still faintly hear Steve’s heartbeat, the occasional foot fall, like he was pacing but trying to be quiet about it. His lips pursed into a thin, worried line.

“He didn’t tell you anything?” Dustin asked.

Robin gave him an unexpectedly angry look, so Eddie jumped in. “Dustin, man, you’ve been researching all day, give it a break alright?”

“But–”

“Push it and I’ll tell Jeff to kill off your beloved little warlock next session.”

Dustin’s eyes narrowed, but Eddie’s serious tone must’ve gotten through to him because all he did was huff and cross his arms.

“Maybe we should go,” El said, looking upstairs now too.

“I can’t drive, and Eddie can’t until tonight.”

“Shouldn’t leave at all, probably,” Eddie added dourly.

“I can drive you.” Everyone turned to Chrissy. “I’ve got my mom’s station wagon. It’s no trouble.”

Eddie nudged Chrissy with his knee. “You sure you wanna handle these gremlins?” he teased.

“I’ll keep him in line,” Max smirked while Dustin pouted.

Dustin crossed his arms and tilted his head back imperiously. “Eddie said grem-lins, plural, Maxine.”

“You’re pushing it, nerd.”

Robin stood in a sudden flurry of movement. “Okay! Better get all of you gremlins home before Chrissy decides to take back her very generous offer. Come on, shoes on, chop chop!” She clapped her hands in a way that Eddie intrinsically knew came from Steve, and the kids all stood and started towards the door for their shoes.

El, though, stopped beside Eddie. “Can you thank Steve for having us over for us please?” She said it so seriously, so earnestly, that Eddie swore his heart grew two sizes.

“Of course kiddo.” He reached out and ruffled her long hair, and she giggled while leaning away.

When Chrissy got up to leave, Eddie joined her, wrapping her in another hug before she left. “Thanks for taking everyone home.”

She shrugged. “It’s something I can do, at least. And, well, maybe Robin can tell me a little more about what Steve might’ve said about Jason. I’m… I’m really worried, Eddie.”

“I know Chris. I’m sorry.” He squeezed her a little tighter. “We’ll figure it out.”

With the brats corralled, Eddie waved them off from the shade of the doorway. Robin gave him a short, awkward wave, a blush over her cheeks when Chrissy put her hand on the back of her seat to back out of the driveway, and Eddie filed that away for another time. Then he shut the door against the sunlight and returned to the now eerily silent house.

It was something he noticed the longer he stayed here. When Steve was away at work, Eddie left to his own devices, all he had to do was read the books he’d brought, maybe snoop around for some others, plunk away at his guitar and fill the silence with the old records that the Harringtons left to collect dust. But even with the music playing, the house seemed to absorb noise, like a museum. And there were barely any signs of life, except for the occasional bit of mess that Steve left around when he ran out of time in the mornings. Everything that Steve left alone: the whole dining room, entire guest rooms, even the hallways seemed to eat noise and repel clutter that showed anyone lived there, even Steve.

Eddie had, admittedly, snuck into Steve’s room once or twice. He’d left the door open, what was a curious, bored vampire expected to do? There, thankfully, was some personality, though the awful plaid wallpaper did its best to drown it out. The messed up bed that Steve couldn’t be bothered to fix up, a few clothes scattered by his hamper, some magazines–sports, mostly, and some gossip mags, to Eddie’s disappointment–piled on his nightstand. He didn’t bother poking around in any drawers, didn’t want to risk moving too much in case Steve caught on and got miffed.

What did Steve even do in this house all alone? What did he do before he had to cohabitate with Eddie, who, he would readily and sometimes proudly admit about himself, was a rather irritating guest at times. Eddie kinda hated thinking about it too hard.

But right now, the silence was disturbed, just barely. Eddie could still hear the pacing above.

He was torn. Something in Eddie wanted to check on him, but Steve hadn’t come down to even speak to the kids. He would’ve heard them leaving. Would he even want the nosy freeloader in his house knocking at his door?

His feet started to move towards the stairs before he even decided. Each stair he climbed, he tried convincing himself that he was just heading to his own room–not his room, the guest room, nothing in this place was his, jesus–but he passed the door that he should have stopped at. Kept going to the end of the hall, and the pacing stopped.

“Hey, uh, Steve?” Eddie knocked on the doorframe, even though it was completely unnecessary. “You alright in there?”

No response. Eddie could hear Steve’s heart, racing too fast to be mistaken for calm. A few seconds passed. A few more.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled. Turning, he was about to walk back to his room when the door opened.

“It’s fine.”

Steve had one hand on the door, the other hanging limp at his side. He was still covered in dirt; smelled like it too, fresh soil and sweat, and something distinctly off and Eddie had to fight wrinkling his nose at. It made Steve look pale, and Eddie felt that was wrong. Steve was built for the sun, for being golden, he shouldn’t look pale.

“You should shower, dude,” Eddie said, trying to a rueful smile, but the humour didn’t land. Steve just shrugged it off.

“I guess. I will.” He turned and wandered back into his room, leaving the door open, and Eddie couldn’t find a reason not to follow. It felt enough like an invitation. Walking in, he tried to make it seem like he was seeing the bedroom for the first time, but Steve scoffed.

“I know you’ve been in here, Eddie, I could smell you in here when I got home once, you don’t have to put on an act.”

Eddie stiffened. “Oh. Uh. Sorry dude.”

“Whatever. I kind of expected it.”

“That’s a lot of trust you’re placing in the resident drug dealer.”

Steve shot him an unimpressed look. “You sell weed, Eddie,” he said flatly. Wobbling his head, Eddie mouthed the words back at Steve silently, mockingly, which finally drew a tired laugh from him. It wasn’t the kind of laughter he could get after verbally tearing Frank Sinatra to shreds while they got high on the living room floor, but it was good enough. The sound didn’t last, though, fading like every other sound in this fucking house, leaving a gaping silence where they both stood awkwardly, a few scant feet between them.

Eddie shifted on his feet, stuck his hands in his pockets then took them out and folded his arms over his chest. Meanwhile, he watched Steve, who couldn’t look up from the carpet. “You probably don’t want me lingering around in your domicile, so I’ll just–”

“Are you thirsty?”

Now that, that rang out through the room. “What?”

“You spent all day around the kids, and you haven’t fed since, uh, since last time when everyone was around.” Steve finally looked up from the carpet, something burning in his eyes.

“Nah, I’m fine, pretty good actually,” Eddie stumbled out.

“You said you fed from Chrissy every few days though.”

Truth was, Eddie was hungry. It was sort of an ever-present thing, though easy to manage once he’d learned how to sate it in a way that actually satisfied him. And yeah, it had been a few days since he’d bitten Steve’s wrist, but the way Steve acted around him the next day–flighty and awkward, not sticking around in the same room too long–made Eddie less than inclined to ask for more.

“I can deal, Harrington, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.” Steve started walking closer. There was a determination, a heat, in his gaze that made Eddie feel a little warm and jumpy, and he started backing up. “You should be in peak condition if something happens. And I–”

Steve reached out behind Eddie and closed the door, Eddie having to back up against it, trapping them both in the horribly plaid room that Eddie couldn’t even see, because Steve was right there, in his space, so close Eddie could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Steve’s arm was still outstretched, hand pressed against the door by Eddie’s head.

“I want you to.”

Heat flashed under Eddie’s skin, his sluggish heart beating faster. “What the fuck do you mean, man?”

“I mean.” Steve ran a head through his hair, messing it up worse, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “It makes me feel good–better. The bite. And, you gotta drink, so it’s like. Win-win or whatever.”

“Win-win?” Eddie said, high and nervy, “The hell? How does it make you feel good?”

“Just, please?”

His voice sent a lance of desire and hunger through Eddie’s spine. Steve’s face looked haggard, dirt caked into every worryline, but something burned in his eyes, something needy, and he was so fucking close they were sharing breath. Eddie could see the blood coursing through his neck, the artery so close to the skin, and he must’ve stared long enough, hesitated enough, that it spurred Steve on. He deliberately pulled down the collar of his shirt and tilted his head to the side, baring his long, freckled neck to Eddie.

That desperate, unnatural hunger that had haunted Eddie since he woke up on a cold forest floor in Chrissy’s arms, ever-present and voracious, grew like arousal in Eddie’s gut. Saliva pooled under his tongue and, unbidden, his teeth began to elongate as his gaze locked onto that pulsing rush tantalisingly close to his face. The longer he looked, the faster Steve’s heart raced, the more tempting he was, the warm scent of his heightened emotions wafting into the air like wine and pulling Eddie closer.

Just a taste, he promised himself.

Eddie let one of his hands wrap around the back of Steve’s neck, fingers threading through his soft hair, while he grabbed the hand Steve was using to hold the shirt down, pulling it further out of the way. One last glance at Steve’s face, and Eddie saw his eyes had gone heavy-lidded, his mouth dropping open just slightly when Steve caught sight of Eddie’s fangs. Cocking one eyebrow, he tilted his head further, into Eddie’s waiting palm, trusting he’d be held, and Eddie couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

He surged forward, and bit into Steve’s neck. The first gush of rich, metallic blood made Eddie groan and Steve gasp. Instinct made Eddie bite harder, deeper, his teeth sinking without resistance into flesh and muscle. Eddie’s fingers clenched where they held Steve, pressing him flush against his own body. Steve didn’t even flinch, seeming to arch into the touch, panting. His skin flushed; Eddie could feel the flood of warmth down Steve’s neck from his face as it bloomed against Eddie’s cheek.

Feeling bold and ravenous, Eddie withdrew from Steve’s neck to manhandle him against the door instead, slamming him against it with a bang and pressing against the long line of his body before licking up the rivulets dripping from the punctures. The soft oh he drew from Steve felt as intoxicating as his blood. Clinging to Steve like he was, Eddie didn’t feel his hands move until Steve’s fingers dug into his side, keeping Eddie close.

Steve’s free hand clutched Eddie’s, the one resting on the unmarred side of his neck, twining their fingers together and squeezing, and Eddie’s breath hitched as he squeezed back. He laved the flat of his tongue over the wounds before pressing his lips around them in an open-mouthed kiss and sucked, drawing a fresh flood to the surface. The taste was fucking addictive. Something lurked in Steve’s blood that made the most base, monstrous parts of Eddie sing and snarl with greed, something heated and needy.

It clicked, when Steve’s hand roved down. Grabbed Eddie’s ass though his jeans to hold him still while Steve rocked his hips up, his hard dick brushing against Eddie’s own and making them both moan. And oh shit, Eddie was so hard it was painful.

That taste was desire, hormone-spiked blood, more potent than any drug or liquor Eddie’s ever had. The instant he placed it, he knew he wanted more. More blood, more of Steve. He met the next roll of hips with a reedy whimper, muffled against Steve’s neck as he still drank deeply of that heady taste, let Steve’s hand guide him this time, enjoying the thrill of being led. Until.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve groaned, low but loud in Eddie’s ear, and reality crashed down around him.

Eddie shoved himself off of Steve, ripping himself out of his grasp and pressing the back of his hand to his blood-stained mouth. Wide, panicked eyes met Steve’s, still heavy-lidded and dark but growing confused. God, what a vision he was as he leaned against the door, gasping for breath and hard in his jeans, flushed deliciously red despite being drank from like a fucking juice box. It was… it was terrifying. Fear sparked and caught in Eddie’s chest. What the fuck was he thinking!?

Brows furrowed, Steve stepped forward. “Eddie? What is it?”

“Shit.”

Eddie bolted. Dodged past Steve, whipped the door open and ran to the guest room as fast as his unnatural speed let him. He slammed the door behind himself and braced against it, scared that Steve would try to bust it down as soon as he came to his senses. And he would. There was no fucking way Eddie could get away with that.

He knew his bite did something. Chrissy had tried to do research for him, but couldn’t find much without Jason catching on, but she’d told him the bite makes prey less likely to fight back. But she’d only ever relaxed, like getting high, not–not like Steve trying to rub one out on him. Not like moaning Eddie’s name while they were so close together Eddie could still feel how it rumbled in his own chest.

Anxiously, Eddie licked his lips and only tasted Steve, wincing at how that made his cock throb against his zipper. “Shit,” he whispered shakily. A manic laugh threatened to bubble up but he swallowed it back.

That was so stupid. All of it. He should’ve realised as soon as Steve asked to be bitten again that something wasn’t normal about this and put a stop to it. Could’ve called Chrissy; she was coming by tomorrow anyway. Now he had to worry about Steve kicking him out and forcing him to walk home with the murderer still at large. The one who fucking framed him, for a reason none of them have discovered yet. He let his head fall back against the door with a hollow thud, and waited.

Minutes passed, then hours. The sun began to set, and Eddie found himself anxiously pacing around the room, packing his duffel bag then unpacking it, his clothes strewn out of it like a racoon had rifled through them all and found his wardrobe lacking. Yet through his own chaos, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from keeping an ear out for Steve.

He hadn’t left his room, not once. Sometimes he paced, and Eddie caught the occasional frustrated huff. When Steve’s habit of talking to himself kicked in, Eddie resolutely ignored it–meaning, of course, that he listened anyway but felt deeply guilty about it. But nothing he heard made any logical sense. “What did I do?” spat as a frustrated whisper was the most baffling, but Eddie refused to contemplate that it might mean anything other than Steve wondering how he’d gotten suckered into bumping clothed uglies with The Freak.

So Eddie paced and unpacked and re-packed and stewed over the countless stupid life choices he’d made to bring him to this moment until the sun was well beyond the horizon and his hair was a frizzy mess with how often he’d been digging his fingers into it. The carpet, shockingly, didn’t show a single dent with all the trudging around he’d done.

Simultaneously wiped out and still wound up, Eddie flopped onto the bed with an explosive sigh and slapped his palms over his face, grunting loudly. If Steve was debating whether he would kick Eddie out or not, he’d rather Steve get on with it and put him out of his misery before the sun came up. He didn’t want to burn to a crisp before he got to see Wayne again.

“Fuck it,” came another irritated whisper from Steve’s room. Eddie braced himself for stomping down the hall, for Steve ripping the door open, furious, demanding that Eddie leave. Instead, he heard bed springs squeak. It took little effort for him to listen closer, frowning in confusion.

Then, Eddie heard the quiet zip of jeans being undone, and shuffling. A relieved sigh.

What?

Was Steve doing what Eddie thought he was doing? There was no way. No fucking way. Sure, Eddie had been staving off the raging hormones he’d drank straight from Steve’s veins all night with little success, hoping he’d burn through them with his pacing and ignoring how he’d been half-hard for most of it. Steve had to have crashed from the high by now.

And yet. There was a hitched breath from behind the two doors separating them. Eddie swallowed, and dragged his hands down his face, letting them flop to his sides. This might be Steve’s home, but did he really have to do this now?

Eddie didn’t even want to admit what had happened, not that it helped. With Steve apparently jerking it just down the hall, though, the images rose unbidden behind Eddie’s scrunched eyelids anyway. How the blood flowed slowly over the tendon in Steve’s neck to pool in the divot between his collarbones, the dark desire in his blown-out pupils. The way Steve’s fingers dug into the meat of Eddie’s ass to pull him where Steve wanted, right against his cock.

The sound of Eddie’s name in Steve’s mouth as his lips brushed Eddie’s ear.

He swore soundlessly. Wriggling a little and hissing at the growing tightness in his pants, Eddie sent up prayers to whatever deity was listening to make him Not Horny. No thoughts of old people or relatives or complex dungeon traps could take his mind, or his hearing, off of Steve masturbating quietly just a few feet away. Didn’t he realise that Eddie could hear him? Steve wasn’t the only one with super hearing. It was rude, and terrible hosting behaviour, and–

Steve moaned softly, though it cut off like he knew he might be heard–too fucking late for that–and Eddie wanted to scream in frustration so badly he clamped his hand over his mouth. His dick throbbed, though, at the new sounds echoing his way. Wet, slick sounds.

Fuck. Swallowing down a wave of guilt, Eddie let his hand trail over the bedspread, along his hip, and cupped his dick through his jeans with a shuddery sigh. He bit his lips together to make sure no noises escaped as he squeezed himself. It’d been too long. Out of respect to his werewolf host, he’d hadn’t rubbed one out the whole time he’d been at Steve’s. Steve, apparently, had no such reservations. So…

So why not? Why the hell not. Eddie undid his fly and quietly as he could slipped his cock out, already hard, the tip flushed red. He couldn’t help remembering that he had Steve’s blood in his body now. How he’d tasted. Breathing heavily, Eddie stroked himself, thinking of the way Steve’s plush lips parted, the fire in his eyes as he begged Eddie to bite him… how big his cock felt, though it was trapped in his jeans.

The familiar weight of his own cock twitched in his hand, a spurt of precome dripping down, slicking the way. He could hear how Steve’s heart rate picked up now that he’d given up trying not to listen; now that it, too, had become familiar.

Steve made another sound. A groan, deep in his chest. Eddie’s mouth dropped open with a harsh sigh. He was so fucking turned on. The taboo of listening to Steve get off, jacking off to it, praying Steve couldn’t hear him too, made that frisson under his skin rise and burn so fast Eddie started to feel breathless, wound tight.

He stroked himself faster, hips canting up into his grip, desperate to chase the feeling as he imagined how Steve looked sprawled on his bed with his massive hand wrapped around his cock. Eddie couldn’t help wondering what it’d feel like to have Steve’s hand replace his own and that image made him clamp his mouth shut around a quiet whimper.

Eddie heard Steve swear again, his voice going a little higher, and Eddie found himself nodding, like the other man could see him. He wanted to be seen. Wanted Steve to rush in, see him furiously pumping his dick and know exactly what got him here. Maybe he’d crowd Eddie against the bed and start to take him apart with his long fingers, grind their cocks together, fuck his way inside as they kissed all heated and dirty and chant Eddie’s name–

Steve moaned, then, quiet enough that Eddie almost missed what he said.

“Eddie.”

Shock forced a desperate whine out of Eddie’s throat before he choked it off with a gasp. Oh shit. Oh shit. He froze, could tell Steve had too. Steve heard him. He knew. He felt his heart in his throat, thundering away.

Until he heard it again. A tentative, “Eddie?” from down the hall. Confirming he’d been caught. Why didn’t Steve sound pissed?

There was the distinct click of a cap being opened. Still frozen, Eddie couldn’t believe his ears when he heard Steve start up again, jerking himself off slower now, the sounds slicker, wetter. He… he knew Eddie was listening, could easily guess why Eddie had fucking whined like that, and he was still…

God. Fuck. Oh fuck that was hot. And terrifying. How the hell was this even happening!?

Steve keened, loudly, and Eddie cursed as his hips bucked helplessly into the hand still wrapped around his aching cock. This was insane, absolutely nuts; Eddie had never even thought of something like this despite his expansive and wildly horny imagination. But he followed suit and started fucking into his fist, fast and filthy, past the point of caring that Steve could hear the bed creaking slightly with his movements.

And then Steve did it again. “Fuck, Eddie,” he moaned. Deliberately. Eddie couldn’t hold back the needy cry that rose from his throat, muffled as he bit his lip against the growing pleasure sparking along his nerves. He was gonna come, quickly, felt it barreling closer like a freight train. Steve wasn’t holding back his sounds anymore either, every gasp and groan unconcealed, stroking his cock without any fucking shame.

Eddie was shaking, panting hard, losing his rhythm. Thoughtlessly he started to beg, “Please, please please please.”

“Shit, yeah, do it, c’mon Eddie,” Steve urged, “gonna come too, oh shit!”

Fireworks exploded behind his eyes. Every muscle in Eddie’s body seized as he came, whining so fucking loud as he spilled over his fingers, cum splattering his shirt and soaking in warm and sticky, cock pulsing hard when he heard Steve cry out, a satisfied, guttural thing. Gasping for breath, Eddie went limp on the bed, his mind empty of all thought except for the way Steve moaned his name, how he sounded when he came.

There was no more movement from Steve’s room. Eddie could hear him in there, his breathing evening out along with his heartbeat, but he didn’t get up.

Was he waiting for Eddie? There was no way he’d go over there himself. He was still processing the everything that just happened. What if Steve had still been affected by the bite, and now that he’d gotten it out of his system he regretted literally jacking off with Eddie? More or less.

Eddie’s anxieties swirled through his mind until morning. Steve didn’t leave his room once.

#bee if you see this i'm so sorry i forgot to credit you until now i am a whole ass #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #vamp!eddie #werewolf steve harrington #stranger things #steddiebang #steddiebang23 #steddie big bang #steddie big bang 2023 #hideous thing sbb #sav scrawls stuff

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dragonflylady77 · 4 months

Text

Mr Steve and The Monster Hunter

It's finally there, time to post my fic for @bigbangharringrove (thank you mods for all your work for this event!)

I've been working so hard on this one... I even did some doodles of a couple of scenes from it (I might post them once I've posted all 6 chapters).

Art by @adelacreations (so very excited about this!!).

I want to thank @ihni for Olivia’s name, @spaceofentropy for noticing I'd forgotten about Will (oops!) and @akioukun for Cindy’s name

Also on Ao3

Steve gets the surprise of his life when one of his students gets picked up by her father. A man who Steve thought had died on the dirty floor of Starcourt Mall fifteen years ago. Billy Hargrove is alive... and a dad. He runs a security company called HellGrove and he hunts monsters in the Upside Down for a living. When Billy opens a portal into the Upside Down in Robin and Heather’s backyard, Steve follows because he wants answers.

Chapter 1 - Mr Steve isn't a boy

Steve is looking forward to the weekend after a long week teaching six-year-olds. Having the school trip to the zoo the same week as the talent show is not something he’s keen to do again in a hurry and he let his principal know as much.

He smiles as the last of the kids rush past him, waving him goodbye as they squeeze in the doorway before running down the hallway towards the exit, a spring in their step. He notices Olivia is still in the classroom and he walks over to her desk.

“Everything okay, Olivia?” he asks as she shoves the last of her drawings in her backpack. He reminds himself for the hundredth time to ask Robin where she found the Hawkins Lifeguard backpack because he didn’t know such an item existed and he was a lifeguard at Hawkins Community Pool for a few summers, both while he was in high school, and after, during summer breaks from university.

He knows he isn’t supposed to have favorites but Robin and Heather’s daughter is one of the brightest students he’d had in his ten years of teaching elementary school and she is extremely funny to boot, at a level that her classmates usually don’t get.

“Yep, Mr Steve, I’m spending the weekend with my dad so I want to show him all my work.”

“Your dad?” Steve asks, confused. As far as he knows, the little girl only has her two mums. Of course, Steve figures there has to have been a man involved in the process, he did pay some attention in biology class, but he never asked. Heather still scares him a little and he isn’t as close to Robin as they were fifteen years ago.

Nope, not thinking about it.

“Yes, he works a lot all over the country so I don’t see him very much.”

“Then I bet you’re very excited to see him!”

“I haven’t seen him since Christmas, he’s very busy but he rings me when he can,” Olivia says matter-of-factly as she closes her bag.

“That’s nice,” Steve says, smiling even though he thinks two months is a long time without seeing your child, not that he has any of his own.

“He lives in California, you know,” she adds as she starts walking to the door.

Steve follows a few steps behind, in a daze, her words unleashing the memories of loud metal, leather and cigarettes, and a blue Camaro.

Nope, not thinking about him.

He watches Olivia step out of the classroom and turns towards the mess he still has to clean before he can go home when the voice coming from the adjoining hallway stops him in his tracks.

“Hey, princess!”

It can’t be. But that voice… He’s heard it before, and those words…

Shaking like a leaf, Steve turns towards the open doorway and takes the three steps that separate him from the owner of the voice.

It isn’t possible. Billy Hargrove is dead, Steve reminds himself. He died at Starcourt Mall fifteen years ago, in what remains the scariest night of Steve’s life. This is just his brain playing tricks on him.

He steps into the hallway and freezes. The shock of seeing Billy Hargrove, alive and in the flesh, dims Olivia’s gleeful screams.

He looks… Steve feels all the air leave his lungs. Billy looks fucking good for a dead guy. His hair is cut short, some golden curls on the top still, he looks broader in the shoulders, his muscles more defined than they were in high school, not that Steve is looking, but the guy is wearing a t-shirt that looks painted on, okay?

He is also sporting a scar across his left cheek that looks not too recent but doesn’t make him look any less handsome, as well as some gnarly looking, but silver, older, scars on his arms and Steve knows there would be matching ones on his sides and in the middle of his chest, where the Mind Flayer had hit him with its tentacles.

“Pretty boy?” The shock is evident in Billy’s voice. He clearly didn’t expect to see Steve either.

“Daddy, you’re silly. Mr Steve isn’t a boy, he’s my teacher!”

Billy clears his throat and looks down at his daughter. “I can see that, princess.”

Billy Hargrove has a daughter!! What. The. Fuck?

“Billy. Long time no see.”

“Mr Steve, you know my daddy?” Olivia is looking between the two of them, trying to work out the connection.

Billy crouches so he is level with Olivia. “Mr Steve went to school with me and your moms, Livi.” He looks around and picks up her cardigan from her hook. “Is that all your stuff?”

“Yes, Daddy. I gotted all the stuff in my bag to show you.”

“That’s great, princess. Can you wait here a minute while I have a super quick chat with Mr Steve?”

She nods. “Can I play the word game on your phone?”

“Sure thing.”

Once Billy sorts Olivia with her game, he looks at Steve who is still hovering in the doorway and gestures towards the classroom. Steve nods and heads back inside, Billy a few steps behind him.

Steve stops when he reaches his desk, trying to compose himself. He hears Billy behind him and turns around.

“Robin never said—”

“You probably hav—”

They both stop at the same time and Steve knows he’s being awkward but he is not prepared for this. It’s not like he was friends with the guy back in high school, but Billy sacrificed his life to save them that day in1985 so for him to just show up like that is just… Steve doesn’t even know at this stage. He needs time to process.

“Listen, I have to run, haven’t seen Livi in way too long and I want to make the best of it but if you want to talk, or like, I dunno, have questions for me, here’s my card. Call me.”

Billy pulls out his wallet and hands Steve a business card with a tentative smile. Steve takes it, trying to wrap his head around what just happened. He nods as Billy puts his wallet away.

“See you around, pretty boy.” Billy doesn’t wait for a reply and he heads out.

Steve hears Olivia’s voice then the chatter moves further away as they walk towards the exit.

He finally looks down at the card in his hand. It’s dark gray, almost black, with the letters HG in white in the middle. He flips it to find the same monogram on the left then his eyes read over the words, taking them in.

HellGrove Security Consultants

William H. Hargrove

CEO & Head of Security

Followed by a phone number and an email address.

What.

The.

Fuck?

***

It’s after midnight and Steve is lying on his bed, flipping Billy’s card over and over, the dim light of his bedside lamp catching on something in the corner of the card. It’s embossed in the same color so he didn’t really notice until now. He brings the card closer so he can have a proper look and…

It’s a demogorgon flower head.

Motherfucker.

He grabs his phone to call Robin but then remembers that they’re not really best friends anymore, besides it’s late and she’s a parent now. Olivia did say she was spending the weekend with her dad but Steve isn’t sure what the arrangement is.

Billy Hargrove is alive and he’s a dad.

More questions than answers and it’s making Steve want to scream. So he sends Robin a message, figuring that she can choose to reply if she’s awake.

He hopes she does.

Steve: So I met Olivia’s dad at pick up today.

Immediately the reply box shows three littles dots. Steve holds his breath for a bit but has to give up after a minute. Either Robin is typing a novel-length explanation or she is not sure what to say.

Robin: Surprise? <cringe emoji>

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Steve yells in the empty room, his frustration at boiling point. His phone dings again and he looks to see what else Robin had to say.

Robin: Come over for lunch tomorrow. We’ll talk.

Steve sends a brief text saying he’ll be there then puts his phone down and switches to his laptop, giving into the temptation to visit HellGrove.com.

The website mentions the usual stuff: the various services offered (most of which mean little to Steve), reviews from clients as well a page about the company and its staff. Steve keeps looking on the main page for the freaky flower and finally finds it, hidden on the Reviews page when his cursor hovers in the bottom left corner and HOLY FUCK!

There’s no photos of the Upside Down but the hand drawn illustration in the banner is enough for Steve to suppress a shudder at the memories. There are a handful of anonymous written accounts by survivors who were rescued by HellGrove and reports about unsuccessful rescue missions. The wording is vague but, to someone who’s experienced it first hand, it’s clear they’re talking about the Upside Down.

Steve goes back to the home page and clicks on Staff. His eyes immediately focus on the black and white photo of Billy. It must have been taken some time ago because the scar on his face is missing.

The short bio tells Steve that William H. Hargrove joined the Marines at eighteen and left after six years to start his own security company. Steve scrolls down and he is surprised and a bit shocked to find out that Max, Lucas, Will and El also work for Billy. And some guy named Argyle, who apparently has no last name.

He vaguely remembers Dustin mentioning that Lucas got a job in California after college and he knew El and the Byers already lived over there. He feels bad when he realizes he hasn’t thought about Max in years. He ponders reaching out to Dustin but that would open a can of worms and even more questions.

He closes his laptop and dumps it on the other side of the bed and settles on his side to go to sleep.

The feeling of an arm around his waist pulls Steve from his slumber. He gasps when he realizes there’s a (warm!) body behind him, the owner of which is dragging him closer and dropping a string of kisses on his shoulder.

Steve can’t remember the last time he shared a bed with someone, especially while being naked, though he is sure he was wearing pajamas earlier. The kisses morph into a bite and a needy moan escapes his lips when he feels teeth nibbling on his skin. The embrace around his middle tightens and Steve’s hand drifts to the one holding him, fingers locking with the ones of the man behind him. Because it is a man, of that Steve has no doubt.

He looks down, noticing the silver scars in the soft glow of his bedside lamp. “Billy?”

“Sorry I woke you up, pretty boy,” comes the hushed whisper from behind him.

“No, it’s okay. What are yo—” The words die in his throat when Billy moves their linked hands south. Steve can feel Billy harden against his ass as their hands start stroking his dick and he shivers.

Billy gives a light squeeze and Steve rolls his hips, arching his back and groaning when Billy bites down on the crook of his neck.

“Oh god… Billy…”

Steve lets go of Billy’s hand to bury his fingers in golden curls instead. It’s been so long since the hand touching him wasn’t his that the pleasure of it is blinding in its intensity.

He moans loudly, earning himself another bite from Billy.

“Shhhh, pretty boy, not so loud, you’ll wake the baby.”

Steve sinks his teeth in his bottom lip in an effort to be quiet, so he doesn’t wake this baby he doesn’t remember having. His entire focus is on not making noise while Billy does unspeakable things to his body. He shudders; he’s so close already…

Billy notices, because of course he does, he always did notice things, and his hand starts moving faster, his closed fist squeezing the head of Steve’s cock on the upstroke. It’s slick, it’s heady, and too soon, Steve can feel his orgasm rushing at him.

He comes with a shout he can’t silence, but when he opens his eyes again, he’s alone in his bed. It’s his hand around his cock, his mess in his pajama pants.

Chest still heaving, he quickly cleans up using his pants and gets back into bed wearing a clean pair, reeling from the shocked realization that he wants Billy Hargrove. And a baby.

What the fuck?

Chapter 2

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove big bang #harringrove bigbang #harringrovebigbang #dragonflylady77 #collab #mr steve and the monster hunter

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