#Eddie got one for no passing out when he was getting blood drawn

[morganbritton132]

Eddie posts a Tiktok like, “Guess who got a sticker at the doctor’s office.”

Eddie: *shows a sticker stuck to his shirt that says “Super Star”*

Steve: I gave you that sticker

Eddie: Still counts

#Steve has had stickers on his person since the early nineties #Eddie got one for no passing out when he was getting blood drawn #eddie munson tiktok saga #eddie munson #steve harrington

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 36

Part 1 Part 35

Will’s skin feels tight, stretched over his bones as he tosses and turns into the morning. It’s a relief when the sounds of Mom burning breakfast filter into his room.

“Shit, shit,” she says, pans clattering as she moves them from one burner to another. 

WIll crawls out of his bed, limbs lethargic. His socks have gone wonky in the night – all his tossing and turning making the heels twist to the front of his ankles. He slides them around on the carpet, shifting them around without having to bend over.

He shuffles into the kitchen, settling quietly at the table, feet up on the chair, chin on his knees as he watches his Mom cook. 

She’s scrapping crisp scrambled eggs onto a plate, muttering to herself as toast pops from the toaster. 

Jonathan stumbles out of his bedroom, drawn by the sounds. His pajama pants are too long, trailing across the floor, making him trip on the hems. He grabs the toast without a word, plucking the butter from the counter and coating them liberally before bringing it over to the table.

“Sleep okay?” he asks, sitting down beside Will.

Mom turns, holding the burnt eggs and mushy hash browns on separate plates. “Oh, sweetie,” she says, hurrying over and putting her own bounty in the middle of the table. “How long have you been here?”

“Just got here,” he says, looking down at his knees.

It’s not that his Mom hasn’t always paid attention to him, but it’s grown sharper in the days since he got back from the Upside-Down. Like she needs to catch his every word. Like if he leaves her sight, he’ll disappear. That’s how she’s looking at him now.

Jonathan goes to grab forks and plates, heaping food onto Will’s plate before getting his own. 

The eggs are rubbery, over-cooked and under-salted, and the potatoes are more water than starch. Will eats it all.

There's been a pit in his stomach since he got back, like no matter how much he eats, there’s more space to fill. The doctor’s had said that was normal – just his body's shock response to food scarcity. It’d go away.

“Can I go see Steve?” Will asks.

Steve’s been so still, every time he’s visited. They’d shaved his head, and it made him look young and small and washed out; nothing like the boy with the gun or the boy with the broad back, always standing between them and danger.

But, maybe that’s never who Steve’s been. Maybe he’s always been small, and tired, and scared, just like Will. He just wishes Steve would wake up.

He hasn’t, not since Eddie’d brought him back. No one would tell him what happened, but the way Eddie refused to leave the room entirely said enough. Will isn’t sure he wants to know anything more.

He just wants Steve to open his eyes.

“I have to work,” Mom says, lips pursed. 

She hasn’t been to work since Will got back. Neither has Jonathan, and money’s got to be running thin. 

“I can take him,” Jonathan says, meeting his Mom’s eyes. Something Will can’t parse passes between them, before his Mom slowly nods, reluctance in every move.

Jonathan drops Mom off at work, and then they go, Will crawling between the seats to settle in the passenger seat. 

“Do you think he’ll be awake?” Will asks, staring out the windshield as Jonathan parks the car.

“I don’t know,” Jonathan says, unbuckling his seatbelt, not looking WIll’s way. “I hope so.”

They’ve been here enough that they don’t need directions to Steve’s second floor hospital room.

Eddie’s sitting beside Steve’s bed, like he has been every time Will’s come by. He’s wearing blue scrubs like the nurses do, and there’s no blood on his face. He looks tidier than Will’s ever seen him. 

Steve’s laying down, oxygen tubes taped below his nose.

“Will.” It’s Steve’s voice, scratchy and tired, but Steve’s. 

Will rushes to his bed. Eddie’s blocking access, so Will clambers over his legs, accidentally crushing his toes in the process. Steve looks washed out and tired. But his eyes are open and he’s smiling up at WIll.

Will bursts into tears. Steve holds up his arms in offering, and Will burrows carefully into Steve’s chest, keeping most of his weight on the side of the bed, unsure of where the injuries lie.

“Steve,” he hiccups. “They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

He’s not sure if he’s talking about the doctors, or his Mom, or Eddie himself.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, clutching the back of his head. “I’m fine.”

Will laughs, “liar.” Someone’s hand runs up his back. Jonathan’s or Eddie’s, it doesn’t matter. Everyone he cares about is safe. Everyone in this room is safe. 

They’re home.

When Will calms down, shuffling back awkwardly from the boy he barely knows, Steve smiles up at him, and it’s like something clicks into place. Steve is Steve. That’s enough.

Jonathan is sitting next to Eddie, shuffling uncomfortably before clearing his throat. “Thanks, man,” he says. When Will looks back, Jonathan’s looking down at his lap, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “For saving my little brother. I don’t know what I would’ve done if–” 

His voice breaks, throat clicking as he looks down at his fumbling hands. Steve clears his throat. “Hey, man. Your brother’s a badass. He would’ve been fine.”

Will thinks about the endless hours alone in that dark, quiet place before he’d run into Steve and Eddie, and doubts it. It was like each second there sucked a little bit more out of him, leaving silence in its wake. He’s not sure what would’ve crawled out of the Upside-Down in his place. 

Will smiles down at his shoes as Eddie chimes in, “yeah, baby Byers definitely saved my life.” 

He can feel his cheeks flushing.

“Well, still,” Jonathan says. “Thanks.”

Steve clears his throat. “Anytime.”

Will sits on the side of Steve’s bed, unwilling to leave now that he’s here. It’s like, when he’s with Steve and Eddie, something comes back that the Upside-Down scooped out of him. And everything else is purgatory.

He’ll be trying to sleep, or talking to the party, or listening to music with Jonathan, and it’s all hollow. He’s just waiting.

But right now? Will’s here, and he’s staying as long as he can. 

Part 37

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #will byers #my fic

[chrrywavs]

Tiny black shorts

*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: you show up to school with a new pair of shorts and Eddie’s old t-shirt drawing his attention almost immediately.

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: gagging, blowjob, 18+, perv! Eddie, praising, pet names.

╔══ ⋆��☆⋅⋆ ══╗

All day Eddie couldn’t get his mind off you. It was the first period when he first saw you walk in, with his oversized band shirt semi tucked into the tiniest leather shorts he’d ever seen. Wearing his favorite color on your lips; blood red, with a pair of black army boots and the chain he had gifted you for your birthday hanging from your waist. Practically wiping the drool from his mouth.

he held you close to his side all day his hand always laying on your hip and squeezing your bare thighs whenever he could. He took every opportunity to steal a kiss whether it be during passing period or a quick bathroom break, and if you let him he’d quickly escalate it, slipping his tongue into your mouth and wrapping your leg around his waist. if it weren’t for the fact that you were on school grounds you might’ve let him keep going and Sometimes he’d hold you in front of him or tie his sweater around his waist to hide the tent that would form in his pants after. You took notice of his behavior.

But It wasn’t until he practically started grinding up against you during passing period, quietly moaning “your makeup looks perfect baby, god your perfect.” And “these shorts looks so good on you baby.” into your ear while you were fixing your makeup that you realized why he was being so needy all of a sudden.

༺✯༻

You tapped the pencil against the desk as you thought about how else you would extend this already drawn out essay. You were so lost in thought you didn’t hear Eddie whispering your name behind you, till he reached over and tapped your shoulder. You slightly jumped not having expected it before turning your head to stare at him over your shoulder. He smiled at you handing you a small folded piece of notebook paper.

You took the paper tucking it under your essay and taking a quick peak at your teacher to make sure she hadn’t seen. After a moment you pulled the note back out of its hiding place, quietly opening it.

You look really pretty today :)

You smiled to yourself feeling your cheeks blush. You quickly scribbled down your response handing it back to Eddie.

Really? Our laundry machine broke and this shirt was the only clean one I had left, hope you don’t mind.

You waited for Eddie to respond, your foot now tapping the floor. Eddie peaked at the teacher who still had her nose deep into her book, before quickly reaching over and placing the note on the edge of your desk.

Are you kidding? I hope you never fix your laundry machine if it means I get to see you in my shirts.

You held your head up against the palm of your hand, pressing against your mouth to suppress the giggle that wanted to escape. you wrote your response tossing it over your shoulder toward him.

Hate to burst your bubble Ed’s, but this is the only shirt of yours I’ve got. If you wanna see me in more of your clothes you’d have to come over later and bring me a whole load of them.

You’d heard a small amused hmph come from Eddies direction before he stood from his chair placing the note on your desk and walking towards the pencil sharpener at the front of the class.

I’ll do more then bring a whole load of shirts if you know what I mean ;)

You looked up towards Eddie who was already staring back raising both his brows up and down with a sly smirk. You playfully rolled your eyes writing your response and handing the note back to him as he walked pass your desk towards his.

Your such a pervert Ed’s.

You waited for eddie to give you back the note but after a while of nothing you’d almost forgotten of the interaction, just focusing on your final paragraph when finally he reached over handing you a different colored piece of paper most likely one he’d ripped from an old flyer.

Meet me by my van for lunch later? I got an itch I need you to scratch :)

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, eddie doing nothing but pretending to work on his essay keeping everyone non the wiser. You turned back to the note writing a quick response.

Are you seriously horny right now?

You were keeping your eyes on your teacher as you handed back the note. she had now gotten up from her desk to wipe away any notes she had written on the whiteboard. You felt Eddie gently tap your back and you reach your arm behind you to sneakily take the note back.

What can I say, I got a hot girlfriend sitting right in front of me wearing MY shirt and the tiniest little shorts I’ve ever seen, how could I not be?

You bit your lip, scribbling down a quick little response and tossing it over your shoulder before the teacher turned back around to face the class.

What will I get if go?

You looked up at the clock 11:45 class was almost over and you hadn’t finished the conclusion yet. Before you could turn back to your work Eddie tapped your shoulder.

I’ll take you out to eat, maybe some burgers or pizza?

You wrote down your response handing it back to him and turning back to your essay, at this point just about ready to bullshit the last five sentences.

And if I say no?

Eddie smiled, he absolutely adored when you teased him. He messily wrote his response and reached over letting the note fall over your shoulder.

Then you’ll have a very grumpy boyfriend to deal with for the rest of the day.

You giggled low enough for no one to hear. You wrote back the only appropriate response you could think of.

I can deal with a grumpy Eddie. ;)

Eddie quickly returned the note as if he had already written it beforehand.

No please. :(

You turned to look at him. He dramatically frowned using his finger to mimic a tear running down his cheek. a playful smirk grew at your lips. The bell rang excusing the class and you crumbled the note tossing it into the trash on your way out.

༺✯༻

Eddie snaked his arm around your waist pulling you against the lockers. “Where are you in a rush to?”

You giggled, “Ed’s I have to get to class!”

Eddie leaned in stealing a quick kiss “you got five minutes.” He smiled. “So about later?…”

“What about later?” You teased cocking your head to the side.

“Are you up for it? Imagine how hot it’d be to blow me in the school’s parking lot.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t be so hot if we got caught now would it?”

“Actually it would—“

“Eds!” You slapped his shoulder. “I’ll think about it okay? Maybe I’ll be hungry enough by lunchtime.” You winked at him.

“Oh baby,” he cooed leaning into your ear “you just made me rock hard.” He whispered.

You laughed pushing him off you. “Save it for later freak.”

༺✯༻

Third and fourth period flew by and as you stood to leave the class you whispered into Eddies ear to meet you by his van in ten minutes before running off into the bathroom. he practically jumped from his seat dashing towards his car, completely ignoring anyone calling out to him to ‘slow down’ or to ‘watch where he was going’.

Eddie sat in his warm van bouncing his leg impatiently waiting for you to arrive, his cock straining painfully against his tight jeans. his hands found their way to the mound that formed underneath his Jean and began palming himself through the thick fabric so he’d be ready by the time you arrived, he wanted to skip everything and get right into it. He bit his lip sliding his hand into his jeans and started groping his balls over the fabric of his boxers. “Fuck (y/n) hurry.” he whined.

Once you arrived. He spared now time fumbling with his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. His already hard cock springing out and bouncing against his stomach.

You adjusted yourself to the best position you could possibly find in the awkward layout of Eddie’s van making sure you had easy access to all of him. You spat into the palm of your hand looking directly into his eyes as you slicked it all over his cock coating him with your spit. He groaned shutting his eyes, melting into your touch. “Shit (y/n).” he breathed out.

You were taking your sweet time teasing him and Eddie was getting impatient. You squeezed him gently, fisting the base of his cock and licked your lips savoring him as you watched the forskin pull back revealing his red tip.

“C’mon baby no teasing please.” He practically whined. His soft eyes met yours and he caressed your cheek, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “I need your pretty little mouth around my cock sweetheart.” He cooed slipping his thumb in. With your lips wrapped around his finger you gently sucked the salty skin swirling your tongue around and releasing it with a pop. His thumb coated red with your cherry lipstick.

You slowly leaned in leaving a small lingering kiss on his neck before sinking your mouth down onto his cock. Your tongue stroked a long lick against the underside of his dick, pressing flat against the throbbing vein that ran alongside it before wrapping your lips around the angry red tip. “Fuck.” Eddie groaned as you started bobbing your head up and down taking in as much of him as you could, your spit dribbling down your chin.

Your fingers gently traced alongside his balls feeling them twitch under your well manicured nails. You savored his taste moaning as you swirled your tounge around his tip. “Shit (y/n)” he grunted “you can’t do that.” He gulped. “you’re gonna make me cum too quickly.”

Eddie gently combed your hair out of your face gathering it into a bunch in his hand. “Been thinking about you all day.” he murmured throwing his head back against the leather seat. “You and your sexy little shorts drove me crazy.” He smirked down at you followed by a loud moan when your throat contracted against him. “G-god you make me feel s-so good baby.”

You released him with a pop fisting his length. “You love when my warm mouth is on you, don’t you baby? So desperate for it huh?” You teased. Eddie nodded and small barley audible whimper escaped his parted lips. You tsk “aww already so fucked dumb for me, and you haven’t even been inside my pussy yet.“ you squeezed his shaft tightly watching his face contour into one of pleasure. “Is that what you want? To be balls deep inside me?” You purred.

Eddie nodded, his head completely dazed from thoughts. You squeezed his balls. “your words Ed’s.” you instructed.

“Fuck yes.” Eddie hissed “Fuck (y/n) shit, keep going please don’t stop.” He Panted.

You smirked at his reaction. It was rare to see Eddie so desperate, normally it’s the other way around but you didn’t mind it at all. It was nice to be reminded that Eddie craved you just as much as you craved him. you leaned down taking his balls into your mouth and lapping your tongue around the wrinkled skin. “Jesus fucking Christ baby, you’re-fuck-you’re amazing.” He praised followed by sweet murmurs of your name.

He raked his hot trembling fingers through his hair pulling away his sticky bangs from his forehead. You lazily licked all the way up from his balls to his tip parting your swollen lips around his cock. eddie bucked his hips, his dick hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag. “Sorry baby, fuck sorry.” he panted.

You felt his dick twitch in your mouth. “fuck I’m gonna cum-I’m gonna cum.” he repeated followed by a string of curses. Eddie reached for anything he could and you took hold of his hands placing them over your head prompting him to guide you at his own pace. He threaded his fingers into your hair, holding you still as you gagged, your throat contracting around his cock.“Oh (y/n)- oh ozzy fuck-“ he growled fucking into you mercilessly. Tears spilling from your eyes as his cock hit the back of your throat. A string of curses escaped his lips followed by a loud groan. you felt him spilling his hot white ropes into your mouth coating your throat.

With Eddie hunched over he started guiding your head up and down his cock at a much more slower speed as he came down from his high. Finally he pulled you from his cock. You gasped for air wiping away the tears that formed due to all the gagging. “C’mere” he said before moving you over to his lap and placing a kiss on your lips. “You look so beautiful like this.” He murmured against your lips.

“All messy and gross?” You smiled.

“Yeah” he said before connecting your lips once again. He slapped your ass earning a small gasp from you, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue through. You moaned as he lazily sucked on your tounge groaning at the hint of his leftover seed, guiding your hips in a forward backward motion on his lap.

“Eds.” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” He breathed into the kiss.

“Lunch. is almost. over.” you said in between kisses.

“So?” He murmured pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and trailing kisses down your jaw.

You moaned as he began to suck on the sensitive skin at the crook of your neck. “So I have a test later, I can’t miss it.” Eddie groaned throwing his head back against the seat. “I know baby I need it too, later okay? Come over my parents won’t be home.” You smiled cupping his cheek.

“Home? Alone? With no annoying people to distract us?” You nodded. “I like the sound of that” Eddie smiled lunging towards the crook of your neck leaving small kisses.

“Eddie that tickles!” You squealed.

╚══ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ══╝

Please leave request or ideas I’m literally struggling so hard out here:(

#80s #eddie munson #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddiemunson x reader #stranger things #perv!eddie #smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #joseph quinn

[satanicsanity]

Guess who's got more au lore for Baker-wally!! (I worked hard on this with some friends and mutuals in the Discord server)

Tw: Disturbing themes, cannibalism, implied abuse, violence, demonic-ritual stuff, overall Just... Huge trigger warning! This is a bit dark!

The overall lore, so far:

Wally was unstable from childhood, grew up in a violent home, baking was always a coping mechanism for wally... Whenever wally was sad or angry, he would bake. This always kept wally calm... And happy. Wally found from early childhood that sugar improved his mood immensely... By large amounts. (this lead to later-on sugar pills, to keep himself happy and.. mostly stable)

One day during his childhood, a close friend of wally's passed away. Wally (being completely off his rocker already) ended up eating their corpse in a desperate and crazed attempt to stay close to them... and never forget them. But upon doing that he got a sudden addiction to it, to the taste of the flesh... and began going out late at night to kill innocent folks and would frequently draw little pictures in the victim's blood.

However one evening upon doing this... He accidentally drew some kind of demonic entity symbol (A swirl to be specific 🌀) which summed... Well... And entity. (because it was drawn in blood) which lead wally into the knowledge of the paranormal, etc etc.

Realizing all of this... He tried to convince the entity he'd accidentally summoned, to bring his friend back. But the entity couldn't do so... because wally had eaten and harmed the corpse... Meaning they couldn't be brought back, because they had no physical body to be brought back TO anymore.

Wally was discouraged by this, but the entity decided to give wally an offer... The entity took a quick liking to wally.

So the entity proposed a deal... Keep making sacrifices to them, and the entity would assist wally... Giving wally SOME of their mind and time manipulation abilities to use however he wished. The only downside, is that this mind manipulation could only go so far... And could only erase others memories for so long. (There was a time-limit on how long the memories would stay erased, in a sense.)

Wally of course took the deal without hesitation... Using it to his advantage to get more sacrifices, to keep the power the entity has granted him alive. But there was another issue, the entity only needed the blood-symbols and the life of said victim... They had no use for the victim's body. (And wally could only eat so many victims at a time on his own.)

And so, Wally began struggling to hide the corpses and the police were catching on... As the downside was previously mentioned that wally could only erase people's memories for a certain amount of time, before the memories would be returned. (The Time manipulation didn't help, because The memories were still intact after time ran out for the erased memories. It just made people slightly confused on why the day seemingly reset.)

So wally moved out of town quickly for a fresh start, packed his things and left without a trace... Left his family behind... Left everything behind. Eventually finding himself in a cute neighborhood. Wally quickly made friends with some nice neighbors... Barnaby, Julie, howdy, Eddie, frank, Sally, and poppy.

Unable to keep his cannibalistic murdering urges at bay... Trying to bake to Distract himself from those intrusive thoughts... He realized he could simply get rid of the corpses by baking them into the treats he makes. Not only that... But he could embed his new-found power into his treats by infecting it, in a sense.

So wally worked some magic when greeting his new neighbors formally, offering them cupcakes... That he infected himself using certain sprinkles (doused in the entity's power he'd been given) that would allow complete control over those neighbors minds, COMPLETE control. (the same sprinkles that are stuck in wally's hair, a hidden sign of wally's control over the neighborhood) This created a loophole of sorts when it came to wally's power limitations... The time limit didn't matter anymore, BECAUSE wally's power was now attached INTO their bodies and systems, attaching onto their brains, growing like fungus... Wally had complete manipulation over their minds now and practically the entire neighborhood, no time limit to worry about. This would make things much easier... He could create the PERFECT neighborhood! Killing off neighbors he didn't like, baking them into teats to serve, and his neighbors would be none the wiser! And if he was ever caught... He'd simply erase their minds, and reset the day!

There was one issue though... Poppy didn't take his cupcake offer upon first meeting. This is a huge issue for wally... Because now she's the only one, besides wally, who remembers things the others don't... And is aware of the day-resets. And she has a strong feeling it all has to do with wally. (which she's absolutely correct, but has no proof)

When poppy tries bringing this up to the other neighbors, they have no idea what she's talking about. (like I said... Their minds get erased by wally if he's ever caught.) Poppy knows something isn't right... and wally is aware poppy knows, as she never took his cupcake offer. She's as aware as wally is of the neighborhood resets.

Wally finds this a bit fun though... And strives to make poppy feel as if she's going crazy. He doesn't bother using his short-term mind eraser on her... He finds toying with her is far more amusing.

Now where does home (wally's bakery) come in with all this?

Home was built from the ground up by wally, and brought to life through sacrifices wally made to the entity. In short... Home basically owes wally their life. Wally is the reason home is alive and conscious... Which is a reason why home never goes against wally's word. (other than the fact wally also protects home to an extreme extent.)

In A VERY short sense: Wally's gained complete control over the neighborhood, and all the neighbors expect poppy, through the help and collaboration between him and an entity who'd taken a liking to wally after an accidental summoning.

(This is all over-explained and word vomit, so I apologize for that! If there's anything problematic about this story, I will go back and fix it! <3 I tried to make the lore as close to the overall theme as possible! This may be edited in the future!)

#Long lore rant! #wally baker au #wally baker darling #welcome home baker au #wally darling bakery au #bakery au #welcome home baker wally #baker wally au #wally darling au #welcome home au #wally au #welcome home alternate universe #alternate universe #welcome home puppet show #welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling my beloved #welcome home wally #wally darling #wally darling welcome home #wally my beloved #wally welcome home #wally wh #wh wally #wh au #welcomehome #welcomehome wally #welcomehome au #welcomehome wally au #welcome home wally darling

[ghosttotheparty]

everything you need, anything you want

also on AO3 based on this post

So eighty-six wasn’t his year.

It’s not like Eddie’s never been wrong before.

He lives in the Harrington home. After the “earthquakes,” Steve’s parents move to Norfolk. They leave Steve in Hawkins. Not that he would have gone with them anyway, but an offer would have been nice.

They leave him the house. And enough money to get by. His mother leaves him a kiss on the cheek. He wipes it off when she’s gone.

Eddie stays in the guest room.

Steve’s parents’ old room remains empty, save for a bare mattress, a bed frame, two dressers and his mother’s vanity. Steve contemplates taking it all out back and having a bonfire.

When they found Eddie in the Upside Down, cowering in the shadows, no one thought he was real. Eddie didn’t think they were real either, after all the tricks the Upside Down has played on him. Robin said his name.

He hadn’t used his voice except to scream in the past year, so it was rough and scratchy and dry when he spoke.

You’re real?

They were.

Solid and breathing when they embraced him, and then he was crying, and for some reason it was Steve on the ground with him, his arms around Eddie tightly.

He’d been whispering to Eddie.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Eddie, I’m here now, I got you.

As if he’d known at all how much of Eddie’s mind he’d occupied the whole time he struggled to survive. As if he’d known that he was what kept Eddie warm at night. (Or, what Eddie assumes was night. Time seems to move differently in the Upside Down. Simultaneously slower and faster, five years passing in an hour, twenty minutes in three weeks.)

The reunion had to be put on pause. They’ve all gotten too good at stopping their emotions, at shifting gears at the blink of an eye.

It resumed in Steve’s house, late at night, after they’d all nursed their wounds and drank some water and showered off the Upside Down.

Eddie sat on the coffee table. He was wearing Steve’s clothes now, his own too ripped and worn and disgusting. (He threw them into a bag after dressing and told Steve to burn it all. Steve swore he would.) Steve’s sweatpants were warm, soft, and his hoodie was too big, the sleeves hanging down over Eddie’s hands. His hair was wet and cold against his skin, but he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at ease in his own body.

Except that everyone was staring at him like he was about to explode at any given second. Except Steve. Who looked like he was about to burst into tears.

Dustin spoke first.

You died. I— I watched you die, I heard you stop breathing.

Eddie gripped the ends of the hoodie sleeves tightly.

I know.

Did you not? Robin had asked weakly, like she was going to be sick. Did we just…

No, I did.

He did.

He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows.

I died, but then I just…

All their eyes were wide. Confused. Sitting in an awful fucking silence that made Eddie want to rip his skin off.

I’m not the same. As I was. There’s something… Off about me.

What is it? Nancy asked. Her voice was quiet, almost just a breath but still audible in the silence.

He had squeezed his eyes shut, his legs drawn to his chest. How the fuck was he supposed to explain it? That he wasn’t quite human anymore? That he could smell all their blood, and then he wanted to consume it? That he was fucking starving?

He just shook his head, shivering, letting his head fall to his knees, and then Steve was touching him, sliding his hand over Eddie’s back in front of everything. Eddie could feel the heat of his skin through the hoodie. He spoke to the floor without lifting his head.

I’m a fucking vampire or something.

And the room was silent, until Nancy spoke again.

Explain?

So he explained.

It’s all fucking insane, but Eddie guesses in the grand scheme of things nothing is fucking insane anymore.

Steve stayed close to him the whole time, his hand on Eddie’s back, and after a while, Eddie reached for his other hand, taking it as he spoke. No one said anything about the way he held it for the rest of the time they were in the living room, playing with Steve’s fingers as he talked about the place he already knew he’d have nightmares about.

He stayed in Steve’s room that night. Neither of them said anything as they found their way toward each other, as Eddie held onto Steve’s arm, as Steve slowly pulled away so he could wrap his arm around Eddie, pull him against his chest.

I’m sorry, Eddie. I—I wanted to bring you back, but— but the gate was—

I know, Steve. ‘S okay.

It was probably better that he didn’t wake up in some morgue in town or something. Better that no one else (especially Steve) had to witness him discover that he’s not human, had to witness him learn how to kill creatures just to drink the blood from their still-warm bodies.

He woke up the next morning with his head on Steve’s chest. He could hear his heartbeat. Steve was playing with his hair, combing through his hair and untangling his curls gently. Eddie could hear some noise downstairs, clattering in the kitchen, steps in the hallway. And it was warm.

It was so, so warm.

There were tears on his skin before he even processed his eyes burning. He squeezes his eyes shut, turning his face into Steve’s chest, and tried not to cry, but Steve could feel him shaking, could hear his soft breaths, and Steve slowly sat up, holding Eddie to himself.

It’s okay.

Eddie clutched at him. Gripped his shirt in tight fists, hid his face in his neck.

He sobbed.

Steve was crying too, his arms tight and firm around Eddie, listening and understand him even though his voice was cracking and weak.

It was so cold, Stevie, it was so— it was so cold.

You don’t have to be cold anymore, Eddie.

The sun was shining brightly in Steve’s room. Eddie could feel it on his skin. He’d missed the sun.

They spent almost the whole morning in bed, even though they can hear the others downstairs. Steve kept his arms around Eddie the whole time, until they both stopped crying, until Eddie just sat next to him, leaning against him. Eddie looks at home. Gazed at him. The sunlight hit his eyes in a way that made them glow, and his hair in a way that made strands of it look like golden thread. His eyelashes were clumped together with tears, and Eddie remembered why he always thought Steve had princess eyes.

Steve’s hair was longer than it was when Eddie died. Overgrown carelessly and pushed back, and Eddie’s eyes got caught before he reached up and pushed it up from where it had fallen over his ears. The side of his head was shaved.

Eddie’s eyes widened, and Steve was laughing even before Eddie was sitting up and manhandling Steve’s head to check the other side.

You cut your hair?

Yeah, I… I wanted something different.

…It suits you.

You think?

Eddie nodded. Ran a hand under the overgrown hair and over the shaved part, watched as Steve tilted his head up into the touch. They were quiet for a moment before Steve spoke again.

When my parents left, I… I kinda started acting out. They always cared about keeping appearances, so I… I don’t know. Kinda weird to have a rebellious phase at twenty one.

Is that why your walls look like Polluck paintings and the rest of house looks like a museum?

Robin helped.

I assumed.

Eddie had continued petting his hair. Steve had seemed to like it.

What else?

I, uhm. …You’re gonna laugh.

I won’t laugh.

Even if you say you won’t, you’re gonna.

Okay, I might, doesn’t matter. Tell me.

I… I started listening to, like. Metal and stuff.

Eddie laughed. Steve hit his chest.

How’d that happen?

…I missed you.

That had hurt.

Eddie exhaled and his hand fell from where it was pressed into Steve’s hair, falling to rest on his neck. He could feel Steve’s pulse. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. He ignored the desire.

I, uhm… I remembered you mentioned Ozzy, so I went to a music store and asked about it, and…

You like it?

It keeps my head quiet.

Steve had directed him to the other side of his room, where his tapes and records were. Eddie looked through them while Steve watched. Ozzy, Metallica, Dio, Motörhead, Twisted Sister. Eddie’s face had hurt. He hadn’t smiled in a long time.

I kept your vest.

You did?

Yeah. Wore it sometimes when I missed you more than usual.

Eddie wanted to cry again.

Got some t-shirts and shit you might like.

Can I look?

‘Course.

Eddie looked. Carefully rifled through Steve’s shirt drawer. Looked at the worn, probably second-hand t-shirts. Grinned at the Judas Priest shirt and the AC/DC shirt.

You’re a regular punk, aren’t you, Stevie?

Maybe a little. …Maybe more than a little.

What’s that mean?

Steve paused, his cheeks flushing prettily as he shrugged. Eddie just raised his eyebrows, and Steve stared, his jaw working for a moment before he opened his mouth to reveal a metal stud at the centre of his tongue.

Eddie let out a loud What? and rushed across the room to see, dropping the AC/DC shirt, and Steve laughed. Eddie landed on the bed next to him, on his knees, and grabbed Steve’s chin.

Open up. Let me see.

He repressed the urge to tell him what a good boy he was when Steve immediately followed directions. The stud was black, shining. Eddie wanted to touch it. He wanted to spit on it.

Did it hurt?

They shoved a needle through my tongue, Eddie. Yeah, it hurt.

Alright, attitude. Very metal, Stevie.

Thanks.

So that was that.

Neither of them are the same anymore. Eddie’s teeth are a little sharper, his skin a little colder. Steve is a little more rough around the edges.

They figure everything out. It takes some time, but everything gets sorted. The fridge in the garage is stocked with blood at all times for nights that Eddie can’t go out and catch squirrels or deer. They sleep in separate rooms, but immediately find each other in the morning. Eddie leans on Steve’s back while Steve makes coffee in the kitchen. They sit with their legs locked between them under the table. Steve puts his hand on Eddie’s leg while they watch TV or movies together.

Eddie always ends up pulling Steve against himself. Steve always ends up falling asleep.

Steve doesn’t sleep often.

Eddie knows he doesn’t sleep much at night. He doesn’t either, plagued by nights and memories, staring at the ceiling in the dim light of a lamp that sits on the floor.

Steve leaves his bathroom light on night. When Eddie leaves his room to get water he can see the glow of it under Steve’s door, and he wonders what he thinks about late at night. If he stares at the the ceiling like Eddie does. If he sleeps with his blankets wrapped around him tightly. If he gets cold too.

•••••••••••••••Eddie rolls onto his side and pulls his blanket around him tighter. All of his bedding smells like the rest of the house, almost like Steve but not quite. (Steve smells better.)

Eddie hates nighttime. He likes that it’s quiet, that it’s calm, that nothing is really expected of him, but it’s too dark. Darkness is suffocating. Even with a lamp on.

He looks across the room when there’s a shuffle in the hall, looking over his shoulder. He holds his breath.

After a few moments there’s a soft knock on his door.

“Steve?” Eddie says quietly, and the door opens slowly. Steve is still holding the doorknob, his eyes shining, and he looks so tiny it makes Eddie ache. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Steve pauses, blinking at him and taking a breath. He’s wearing a Judas Priest shirt and some shorts, his hair tousled, looking sleepy and pretty. He also looks like he’s going to cry, which Eddie hates, but can’t deny that it also looks pretty. “Are you okay?”

Eddie blinks at him.

“I’m fine,” he says quietly. “Are you? What’s happening?”

Steve continues to stare at him, his eyes tracing him almost desperately.

“I just— I had…”

He’s breathing hard, like he’s been running.

“You had a nightmare?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods. Eddie pauses, looking at the anxious shine of his eyes, at the way his hands are trembling. “You wanna come over here?”

Steve just steps inside and shuts the door wordlessly, using both hands to make it quiet, like they’re keeping it a secret from the rest of the house. (Which feels like it’s watching them sometimes, if Eddie is honest.)

He sits on the edge of Eddie’s bed, facing the wall, his eyes blankly tracing the posters pinned to the wall. Eddie moves closer to him, watching his chest rise and fall quickly.

“Steve,” he says, sitting cross-legged, facing him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“You were gone,” Steve says quietly, his voice breathy and rough. “We— We were in the Upside Down, and we found—“ he cuts off, taking a small gasp, and Eddie leans closer, placing his hand on Steve’s back gently. Steve squeezes his eyes shut, his breath stuttering in his chest. “We found your body.”

“Steve,” Eddie breathes, running his hand over his back, catching the folds of the thin fabric of his shirt. “I’m right here.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, and Eddie’s chest clenches. He moves closer, carefully pushing his hand up Steve’s neck into his hair to run over the shaved part, furrowing his brows with Steve takes a gasping, stuttering breath.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. “Stevie.” Steve opens his eyes, his expression so pained it makes Eddie’s bones ache. “I’m okay, sweetheart.”

“You died, Eddie,” Steve says weakly. “You were dead, you…”

“I’m alive, Stevie,” Eddie whispers, running his fingers through his hair. Steve just whines, his eyes closing as tears fall. “Hey, I got a heartbeat,” Eddie says quietly. Steve’s eyes open. “You wanna feel it?”

Steve takes a breath, turning to look at him, and he nods.

“Come here, gimme your hand.” He takes Steve’s trembling hand, pulls it toward himself so Steve shifts to face him, and presses it to his own chest, his fingers holding Steve’s hand tightly. He takes a deep breath, and Steve’s eyes watch his chest rise and fall.

“You feel it?” Eddie asks softly after a few moments, when Steve’s breath has slowed, and Steve’s hand presses harder, his lips pursing as he frowns, almost pouting, and Eddie tilts his head fondly, almost smiling. Steve’s hand slides up after a moment, over the collar of Eddie’s sweater, until it’s sliding over Eddie’s neck.

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat when Steve’s fingers wrap around it, his fingertips pressing into his skin tightly. Steve is still panting, his eyelids fluttering. It takes a moment for Eddie to realise Steve’s fingers are pressing into his pulse.

Steve nods, closing his eyes, breathless.

“I feel it.”

Eddie nods. He can’t breathe. Steve’s hand is hot against Eddie’s skin, holding him tightly.

“I’m okay, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, sliding his hand to rest on the side of Steve’s neck. Steve exhales shakily, his fingers tightening, and Eddie thinks he might pass out. His lips part, and his eyes flutter closed before he reaches for Steve’s wrist.

“Steve, you gotta stop.”

Steve’s eyes open and he looks up at Eddie, hurt snd worry shining in his eyes.

“‘S just—“ Eddie tries to fix, squeezing his wrist. “It— This… feels good.”

Steve’s eyes are glazed over, and his fingers shift. He doesn’t let go. His voice is slurred when he speaks.

“If it feels good, why would I stop?”

Eddie’s mouth goes dry.

“Just…” He squeezes Steve’s wrist again, tugs it away. “You had a nightmare, Stevie, you need…”

“Need this,” Steve mumbles, twisting his hand to hold Eddie’s. “Please, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes flick back and forth between Steve’s, like he’s trying to see into him.

“I just—“ Steve cuts off, his eyelashes fluttering as his eyes shine with unshed tears again. “I just wanna feel your heartbeat, Eddie, please.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes. Steve exhales as if in relief, his hand finding Eddie’s neck again, and Eddie wants to cry. “C’mere.”

Steve crawls closer, moving so he can lay against Eddie heavily, taking a shuddering breath.

“I got you,” Eddie murmurs softly, wrapping an arm around him and laying down, pulling Steve with him so he lands on top of Eddie, his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Steve giggles softly, his hand tightening on Eddie’s neck, and Eddie exhales sharply, closing his eyes.

“Are you still gonna be here in the morning?” Steve’s voice says quietly.

Eddie pulls him in tighter. He could be sarcastic. That they’re in his room, that he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. But Steve’s voice is so soft, so small and vulnerable, that he can’t.

“Of course.”

•••••••••••••••The others notice it too, that Steve isn’t entirely okay.

Steve insists he’s fine, that everything is under control.

Eddie does what he can to help, cooks and cleans and does everything he can to make sure Steve can relax at home, but it doesn’t really seem to help at all. Steve is always tense, fidgeting anxiously, picking at his skin and lips and nails until he’s bleeding. Eddie reaches over to take his hand, holding it gently to stop him.

Even Robin does it, laying across his lap and holding his hands in her own while they talk.

Eddie’s heart hurts. The skin around some of Steve’s nails is red and raw, his lips cracked.

“I’m just saying, Steve, maybe you should take a break,” Nancy says, watching him cross the room. He’s chewing on a nail, looking at her.

“From what?”

“Steve,” Eddie says softly. Steve shrugs at him, and Jonathan lowers his head to his knees. “Come on—“ He cuts off with a soft breath, stopping himself from saying sweetheart in front of everyone. Argyle looks at him. He can probably tell.

“You just gotta relax, man,” Argyle says, looking away from Eddie. “Smoke some weed or something.”

“I can’t walk around high twenty four-seven,” Steve says, frustrated. “I have— responsibilities, I gotta— I gotta take care of the kids, I’m…”

“Stevie,” Robin says, sitting up from where she’s laying on Eddie’s lap. “We don’t mean to move to Florida or something permanently, just… relax.”

“I’ve tried,” Steve says adamantly. He’s pacing. “I’ve— I’ve smoked, I’ve tried fucking reading books, and listening to music, and I’m—“ Steve cuts off, tossing his hands.

“I can try something,” Eddie says before he can even think, and everyone looks at him. His face burns.

“What?” Steve asks quietly, biting his nail again.

“I…” He looks up at Steve from the sofa, ignoring the others’ stares, and he takes a deep breath. “It’s gonna sound fucked, but there’s… this thing I do when I hunt, that’s…” Steve is staring at him intensely, his eyes shining. “It’s like putting them in a trance, it… calms them down.”

“Like hypnotising them?” Nancy says, and Eddie looks at her. Steve keeps staring at Eddie.

“I guess, but it’s—“ He rubs his cheek anxiously. “It doesn’t have to be weird. It just calms them down so they don’t run away, and it kinda makes me feel better because they’re not scared when they die, but, I mean… Obviously I’m not gonna kill you,” he adds, looking at Steve again, who stares. “But it might… help.”

“Okay.”

Eddie blinks.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” Steve says almost breathlessly. Eddie’s eyes look back and forth between Steve’s. “Please.”

“…Okay,” Eddie says softly. “Uhm.”

He stands slowly, standing in front of Steve, his cheeks hot as everyone stares. Steve’s hand lowers from his mouth, and he looks at Eddie anxiously. He looks the same way he looked when he spent the night with Eddie: small and vulnerable and scared, and Eddie’s chest hurts.

“If you… change your mind,” Eddie says softly. “Tell me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve breathes.

“Okay.”

Eddie takes a deep breath.

“…Relax, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes flutter shut, and his shoulders slump, and then he’s falling.

“Woah.” Eddie catches him as the others shout, and he falls to his knees, holding Steve, looking at his face desperately. “Steve?”

“Oh my god,” Nancy says, standing as Argyle sits up.

Steve exhales heavily, his head rolling as Eddie tugs him carefully into his lap. Robin kneels next to Steve, touching his face worriedly, saying his name.

“Stevie?” Eddie says softly as Nancy and Jonathan look over his shoulder.

“‘M fine,” Steve mumbles without opening his eyes.

“Steve,” Eddie says, finding his hand and holding it. “Can you open your eyes?”

Steve lets out a soft noise that makes Eddie’s breath catch in his throat.

“Steve, open your eyes.”

Steve’s eyes open, and it takes a moment for them to find Eddie above him. They’re glassy and glazed over.

“You okay?” Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Feel good.”

“I feel like we shouldn’t be here anymore,” Robin says quietly, looking up at Nancy, who frowns with a soft, “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Argyle agrees. “He’s, like, super vulnerable right now.”

“Yeah, we should go,” Jonathan says when Steve blinks blearily up at Eddie, his fingers shifting on Eddie’s.

“Okay,” Eddie says softly, gazing down at him. Robin gets up and leans down to rustle Eddie’s hair affectionately.

“Take care of him, Eds.”

“‘Course.”

They all leave quietly, Jonathan and Argyle patting Eddie’s back gently as they pass.

“You feel okay, Stevie?” Eddie murmurs when they’re gone. Steve hums a soft mhmm. “Use your words, honey.”

Steve swallows, taking a breath, looking at Eddie with glassy eyes.

“I feel okay.”

“Yeah?”

“I feel so okay.”

Eddie smiles softly, letting go of Steve’s hand and reaching to gently push his hair back.

Steve’s eyes close again, and he’s smiling, his face more relaxed than Eddie’s ever seen him. He traces his fingertips over Steve’s face, over his eyebrows and cheekbones and jawline and the bridge of his nose and his lips. Steve’s lips part as Eddie’s fingertip is trailing over them, and Eddie scoffs, moving to hold his chin.

“You wanna stay here for a while?”

“Please.”

“Can I lay down with you?”

“Mm.”

Eddie moves, letting Steve lift his head off his lap so he can shift to lay on the floor next to him, his arm bent under his head.

“Hi.”

Steve just exhales, blinking at him, smiling softly.

“‘S it okay if I touch you?” Steve lets out a short hum. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Touch me,” Steve breathes. “Please.”

“I got you,” Eddie whispers, moving closer. He reaches out and touches Steve’s face again, watching his eyes flutter shut as he trails his fingertips over his cheek. “Pretty boy.”

He waits for a moment, pushing Steve’s hair back, petting the shaved part gently.

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just exhaling and tilting his head so it presses into Eddie’s hand.

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, hesitating. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“So good,” Steve says softly. “‘S so quiet.”

“What is?”

“…My head.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” It almost sounds like a moan. “Wanna stay here.”

“Where?” Eddie whispers.

“The clouds.”

Eddie can’t fight his smile, and he carefully drags his nails over Steve’s skin, watching Steve shiver.

“You can stay here for a while.”

Steve closes his eyes.

Eddie can tell that he’s not asleep. He knows what Steve’s breathing sounds like when he’s sleeping, which maybe could be weird, but he doesn’t worry about it.

He keeps trailing his fingers over his hair lightly, gazing at him, tracing his moles with his eyes like he’s stargazing.

He lets him float. Waits for him.

Until Steve sighs, and slowly opens his eyes, blinking at Eddie like he’s waking up.

“Welcome back,” Eddie says quietly.

“Sorry,” Steve says.

“Don’t apologize,” Eddie whispers. “Was it nice?”

“Yes,” Steve says without hesitation. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Steve looks like he might cry.

“We can do it again sometime.”

“Can we?”

“Yeah, Stevie.”

“Okay.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Where are the others?”

“They left a little while ago,” Eddie says quietly. “Wanted to give you some privacy.”

“Oh.”

Steve closes his eyes again. Presses his hand up against Eddie’s, holding it to himself.

“Are you comfortable here?” Eddie asks softly. “The floor isn’t too bad?”

“No, ‘s fine.”

“You wanna…” Eddie pauses. “You wanna come closer?”

Steve smiles, and he moves closer, sighing as Eddie lifts his arm to set around him. He tucks his face into Eddie’s neck, and Eddie almost shivers when he feels Steve’s breath on his skin.

“Thank you,” Steve murmurs. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Like it when you call me that.”

“‘S good, I like calling you that.”

Steve nuzzles into his neck, his hands tucking against Eddie’s chest.

•••••••••••••••They talk about it the next day. Eddie asks if it was okay. If he took anything too far, if Steve was uncomfortable with anything. Steve just smiles. And hugs him.

Tell him that it was perfect, Eds.

They don’t talk about it again.

They don’t really need to.

The others seem to just pick up on it, how something has shifted between them, without anyone saying anything about it. Steve sits closer to Eddie than he used to, leans against him and holds his hand wordlessly, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The others all see it. Eddie’s face flushes with heat every time.

He’s started kissing him. His cheeks, his forehead, the top of his head, every time Steve floats away, every time he rests against Eddie and hides his face in Eddie’s neck. It makes Steve smile. The first time Eddie does it, he tucks Steve’s hair back and presses his lips to his cheek, just under his eye, and Steve’s face turns pink even though his eyes are glazed over and he’s swaying.

So Eddie does it every chance he gets. Of course.

He’s not sure what they are.

Eddie’s never even come out to him, and Steve’s never mentioned liking men, but somehow Eddie doesn’t worry about it.

They sleep together more often than not, usually in Steve’s room. Eddie steals Steve’s clothes to wear during the day while he’s gone, and Steve sleeps in Eddie’s t-shirts and sweaters. He leans against Eddie’s back while Eddie plays guitar, humming along, listening.

It seems to get easier for Steve.

It makes Eddie happy, getting to see him relax, getting to see him smile and sigh and laugh at Eddie’s stupid jokes and puns. He still has days, days where he just comes home and curls up on the sofa, hiding his face and staying silent when Eddie tries to talk to him. And he has other days where he comes home and just won’t stop, cleaning and cooking and rambling until Eddie stops him.

Sometimes while he’s floating he holds Eddie’s neck, feeling his heartbeat. It’s nice.

•••••••••••••••“Hey, sweetheart.”

Steve just responds w a soft groan, falling against Eddie’s back. Eddie laughs lightly, looking over his shoulder, pausing with the dishes.

“Long day?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna tell me about it?”

Steve is quiet for a moment before he sighs, and his arms wrap around Eddie’s torso. It makes Eddie’s cheeks heat up.

“Scars have been hurting all day.” He presses his face to Eddie’s shoulder, squeezes, squishing his cheek and muffling his voice. “‘Nd my head hurt for a while at work, ‘n just… nothing was working for me. ‘M tired.”

Eddie finishes with the dishes, leaving a pot full of water so he doesn’t jostle Steve while he cleans it, and he shuts the water off, reaching for the dish towel and drying his hands before he turns around.

Steve hugs him before he can say anything, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck and pulling him close, and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, hugging him back tightly. Steve slumps against him. Eddie kisses his temple.

“Alright?”

“Can you put me under?” Steve asks softly, lifting his head.

Eddie kisses his cheek.

“‘Course. Want you to eat some dinner first, though.”

“Okay.”

They eat together at the table, D&D materials pushed out of the way for their plates. Steve tells him more about his day. Eddie admires him across the table. He sits with his legs crossed on his chair, leaning over them so he doesn’t spill anything. (Steve once said he was never allowed to sit like this as a kid.)

Steve changes while Eddie finishes cleaning up. He wants to help, but Eddie refuses to let him.

“How do you wanna do it?” Eddie asks when he’s finished, when Steve is back, wearing a pair of cut-off shorts and a Sabbath shirt that Eddie thinks might be his.

“Wanna sit on your lap,” Steve says, his voice already a little slurred. Eddie grins.

“Sofa?”

“Mm.”

Eddie leads him to the living room, their fingers hooked together. Steve gently pushes Eddie to the sofa, and Eddie looks up at him, smiling, but Steve doesn’t sit across his lap the way Eddie expects. Instead, he lowers himself to Eddie’s lap with his knees on either side of his hips. Eddie’s cheeks flush with heat.

“Hi,” Eddie says softly as Steve settles, setting his hands on Steve’s hips gently.

“Hi.”

“This okay?”

Steve’s hands find their places on Eddie’s shoulders, holding him.

“…Take a deep breath for me..” Steve’s eyes flutter shut for a moment as he inhales, his hands loosening on Eddie’s shoulders. “Good boy, one more.”

Steve smiles as he does it again, his cheeks pink.

“There you go,” Eddie murmurs, his thumbs brushing back and forth over his hips. “Do your scars still hurt?”

There’s a moment before Steve shakes his head.

“Your head?”

Another shake.

“Everything’s okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, his eyes half shut. “I feel good.”

Eddie smiles, tilting his head so he can press a kiss to Steve’s wrist.

“Can I do something?” Steve asks quietly, his eyes glazed.

“Anything.”

Steve smiles softly, his hand sliding from Eddie’s shoulder to his neck, where his fingers wrap gently around his throat. Eddie inhales, his head falling back. Steve’s smile grows, and his fingers tighten.

Eddie’s hands grip Steve’s hips, his eyes locked with Steve’s, and Steve releases him, watching him intently.

“Does that feel good?” he asks quietly, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “It feels good.”

Steve smiles brightly, his fingers tightening again. Eddie exhales sharply, smiling.

“Thought I was supposed to be putting you under,” he mutters. Steve giggles, shifting closer, his fingers loosening, and Eddie bites his lip as heat flushes his cheeks. “What are you smiling at?”

“I can feel your heartbeat.”

“Ah.” He swallows, feeling Steve’s fingers press and rub at his neck. “So you know I’m dying.”

Steve just grins lazily at him, tilting his head almost curiously, his fingers lifting to trace Eddie’s jaw lightly. Eddie slides his hands up his waist, catching the thin fabric of Steve’s (Eddie’s? Their wardrobes are starting to combine.) shirt, and Steve hums.

“Alright?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods, his eyes closing.

“Your hands feel…”

Eddie hums questioningly, squeezing gently as Steve puts his hand back on his throat, his other hand holding the side of his neck lightly, his fingertips in Eddie’s hair.

“Good.”

He squeezes, and Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. He closes his eyes.

He can hear his own heart pounding, can hear Steve’s soft breaths. Steve is heavy on his lap, his weight almost grounding as Eddie’s head fills with clouds. A soft noise escapes Eddie, a weak choked off moan, and Steve giggles again.

And then he’s kissing him, and Eddie thinks he might die.

He doesn’t even open his eyes, just exhales and reaches up to push his fingers into Steve’s soft hair. His head tilts, and his other hand tightens on Steve’s waist, but just as his lips begin to part, Steve pulls away sharply.

Eddie’s eyes flutter open, and he looks up at him to find him wide-eyed and red-faced.

“‘S wrong?” Eddie asks softly, his hand shifting to Steve’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, his voice heavy. “I didn’t ask, I—“

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “You don’t have to ask, it’s okay.”

Steve blinks at him, looking like he might cry, and Eddie’s chest tightens.

“You can kiss me,” he breathes. “If you want.”

“I can?” Steve asks in a small voice. Eddie nods, smiling.

Steve stares, his eyes flicking back and forth between Eddie’s, and Eddie exhales, leaning up and lifting his chin to kiss him softly. Steve’s breath stutters in his chest, and Eddie holds his face, pulling him closer.

Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s neck, and he raises up on his knees as he kisses back desperately, and Eddie’s whole body aches. Eddie’s lips part as he grins, and Steve’s tongue slides between them, tracing his teeth. Eddie clutches at him, his hands gripping his t-shirt and his hips before they find his thighs, squeezing and slipping under the hem of his shorts.

Steve pulls away for a gasp of air, tilting his head and kissing him again so hard their teeth clash. Eddie’s brows furrow, and he sits up straight, his head falling back.

Steve lowers back down to Eddie’s lap, and one of Eddie’s hands slides to the small of his back, tugging him closer as Steve’s teeth catch Eddie’s lip. A whimper escapes Eddie, and his face burns.

One of Steve’s hands slides into Eddie’s hair, gripping it like he’s holding Eddie in place, and Eddie exhales sharply, his jaw dropping enough for Steve to lick into his mouth.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie gasps. His voice is embarrassingly high, breathy and soft, and Steve pulls away. His eyes are shining, his lips red.

“What?”

“I, uhm.” Eddie closes his eyes, breathing hard. “I forgot about your piercing.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses, holding Eddie’s head in his hands. “Should I take it out?”

“No,” Eddie says quickly. “No, don’t, it’s… It’s nice.”

“Oh,” Steve says again. “Okay.”

“Come here.”

Steve kisses him again, catching Eddie’s lip between his own for a moment before he pulls away and looks at him. Eddie encourages him with a gentle tug at his back, and Steve leans back down again.

Eddie relaxes against the sofa when Steve’s hand finds his neck again. He isn’t squeezing, isn’t choking, just holding him almost mindlessly, like it’s where his hand belongs.

Eddie’s brows furrow again, listening to the soft sounds of Steve sucking on his lip, the soft sounds that escape Steve’s throat. He’s almost shivering, chills hovering over his skin like there’s static in the air, and he’s breathing so hard he might start hyperventilating.

“Stevie,” he chokes when Steve releases his lip. (It’s sore. Eddie loves it.) Steve just whines in response, squeezing his neck gently. “I…” He stares, his eyes burning as he looks at Steve’s flushed cheeks, his shiny lips.

“Eddie, please,” Steve chokes, taking short, stuttering breathes. His eyes are glistening with unshed tears.

“‘S okay,” Eddie breathes, lifting a hand to Steve’s head, pushing his fingers into his hair. “I got you.”

“Please,” Steve whimpers. “Please, please, Eddie, please, I—“

“C’mere,” Eddie mutters, pulling him down and kissing him desperately, biting his lip. “It’s okay, baby, I got you.”

“Please—“ Steve whimpers, his fingers tightening on Eddie’s neck, and Eddie gasps. “Please, I need—“

“Take it,” Eddie says breathlessly, squeezing his leg and letting his head fall back as Steve leans close enough that Eddie is swallowing his breath. “Take what you need, baby, it’s okay.”

He expects Steve to start rolling his hips, or to tear his or Eddie’s shirt off, or to lean in and slide his tongue back into Eddie’s shirt, but Steve just squeezes his neck, leaning down to press their foreheads together.

“Deep breath, sweetheart.”

Steve inhales deeply, his other hand holding the back of Eddie’s head gently, his fingers wound in his curls.

“I got you,” Eddie murmurs. “It’s okay.”

“My parents—“ Steve starts, taking a short breath. Eddie rubs his leg gently, his other hand pressed firmly against his back. “My parents always talked about— about queers.”

Eddie looks into his eyes. They’re swimming with tears.

“About how—“ He cuts off to swallow. “How disgusting they are, and how— how sinful they are, and—“

“Steve,” Eddie whispers. He’s heard the same things. Of course he has. He’s never understood it.

How somehow could hate something as beautiful as love.

“But this…” Steve holds Eddie’s face between his hands. He wipes a tear that Eddie didn’t notice falling from his eye. “I’ve never felt like— like there’s anything wrong with this.”

“There isn’t,” Eddie chokes. “There’s nothing wrong with this, baby.” Steve exhales, his thumbs brushing over Eddie’s cheeks. “Come here.”

Steve leans in and kisses him softly before he pulls away just enough that their lips brush when he whispers.

“I love you.”

Eddie’s eyes open slowly, and pulls away to look at him, his hands holding him.

“…Really?”

Steve swallows, his hands falling to hold the collar of Eddie’s shirt, resting on his shoulders, and he nods. Eddie blinks tears back, letting out a soft laugh.

“Oh.”

Steve hesitates, holding onto Eddie’s shirt, looking across his face.

“Is that okay?”

Eddie laughs again, a tear falling from his eye, and he nods.

“Yeah,” he says weakly. “Yeah, it’s okay, Stevie, oh my god.”

“Oh,” Steve says, relaxing, smiling. “Okay.”

“I love you too,” Eddie says, his chest tight, sliding a hand up to hold the side of Steve’s neck, his thumb resting on his jaw.

“Oh,” Steve says lightly. “That’s…”

Eddie laughs softly, leaning in and letting his head fall against Steve’s chest.

“Eddie,” Steve whispers, tugging his hair gently. Eddie hums softly, pressing his hand against the small of his back. “Wanna kiss.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, holding his tighter, and he lifts his head, pressing kisses to Steve’s neck. He can hear his heartbeat, can smell his blood beneath his skin, can almost taste it as he drags his tongue over his pulse.

Steve whimpers, his hand tightening his Eddie’s hair, and then he tugs sharply, pulling Eddie away and leaning down to kiss him so hard it almost hurts.

Eddie groans quietly, slipping his hand under Steve’s shirt to the warmth of his skin, and Steve licks Eddie’s mouth open, breathing hard. Eddie shivers when their tongues slide together, and Steve grins, sliding a hand to Eddie’s throat.

He squeezes gently when he sucks on Eddie’s tongue, and Eddie thinks he might die, letting out a strangled whimper at the pressure, at the smooth slide of the metal stud of Steve’s piercing against the underside of his tongue. There’s a string of spit connecting them when he pulls away, and Eddie is panting, and Steve is grinning.

“Christ, Steve.”

Steve giggles softly, tears still in his eyes, and his fingers tighten gently. Eddie takes a breath, his head falling back.

“Okay?” Steve asks softly.

“Harder.”

Steve squeezes harder, his head tilting curiously as Eddie’s breath catches and he whimpers, letting his eyes close. Steve’s hand is warm, but Eddie shivers anyway. He taps Steve’s back gently after a few moments, and Steve releases him.

“God.”

Steve smiles, his finger brushing up and down his neck so gently it almost tickles.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

Eddie is breathing hard, his eyes still closed, and Steve leans down to kiss him, licking into his mouth and sucking on his lip even though Eddie can’t kiss back.

Steve drags his lips across Eddie’s cheek, trailing wet kisses over his skin, until he’s kissing his jaw and just under his ear.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, tilting his head, listening to the wet sounds of Steve’s lips on his skin. He rubs his hand across the small of Steve’s back. Steve hums softly, his lips finding Eddie’s earlobe.

“Should get your ears pierced,” Steve whispers, his breath against Eddie’s skin, and Eddie shivers again, chills running down his spine.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” He sucks on his earlobe softly, his piercing running across it, and Eddie bites his lip, furrowing his brows. “Would sound so pretty, don’t you think?”

Eddie agrees, tensing as he imagines the soft clicking of Steve’s tongue stud against his earring.

“Shit.” He can feel Steve smile against his skin. “How do you know me so well?” he wonders out loud, his head tilting so Steve can kiss down his neck sloppily, leaving spit and bruises in his path. “Like you know every fuckin’ button I have.”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut as they burn, and Steve’s teeth close on his skin gently, nibbling between puffs of hot breath. Eddie slides a hand into Steve’s hair, holding the back of his head gently.

“‘M in love with you too,” Eddie murmurs.

“Fuck.”

Steve licks across his neck, dragging his piercing over his skin, sucking a bruise into his skin before he pulls away and tilts his head to switch sides.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighs, his hand slipping to Steve’s hip and pulling him closer. Steve hums softly, his teeth digging into Eddie’s skin.

When he’s satisfied, he pulls away, admiring his work, tracing the bruises with a light finger before he falls forward and his forehead presses to Eddie’s.

Eddie closes his eyes, holding him close, breathing him in. He smells masculine and warm, like something Eddie would like to eat. Like home.

“Who would’ve thought?” Eddie murmurs when Steve nudges their faces together. Steve pulls away to look at him, and Eddie gazes at him, admiring the flush of his cheeks, his kissed-red lips. “Ste-e-eve Harrington.”

“Surprised?” Steve whispers, holding Eddie’s face.

“Hm.” Eddie takes a deep breath, gazing up at him. “Honestly, not really.”

“No?”

Eddie reaches up, touching Steve’s face, holding his chin.

“We cuddle almost every night, sweetheart.”

“‘S true.”

Steve holds his hand to his face.

“So you’re my boyfriend?” he asks almost shyly. Eddie smiles, pausing to swallow before he speaks.

“If you want me to be.”

“Yes, please.”

Eddie leans up and kisses him softly.

“You already act like my boyfriend,” Steve says quietly when they part.

“How so?”

Steve leans back, looking at him, his cheeks pink.

“You take care of me,” he says softly, averting his gaze, down to where his legs rest on either side of Eddie’s hips. “Make me feel safe. Make me feel beautiful,” he adds, his voice almost just a breath.

“Come here.”

Eddie kisses him chastely before he wraps his arms around his waist, sighing as Steve hugs him, relaxing against him. Steve tucks his face back into his neck, his breath warm against Eddie’s skin.

They fall asleep on the sofa, after moving to lay down, wrapped completely around each other, with Eddie’s pulse against Steve’s fingertips.

It’s bright when Eddie wakes up, his face covered by Steve’s hair. He squeezes his eyes shut, sighing heavily, moving his hands. They’re resting on Steve’s back as Steve lays on top on his, between his legs.

There’s noise in the kitchen.

Clatter of dishes and soft voices and the scrape of a chair over the tile floor, and Eddie blinks his eyes open, looking up at the ceiling.

Steve makes a quiet noise under him, a sleepy noise that’s rough in his throat, and Eddie runs his hand through his hair. He sits up heavily, pushing himself up over Eddie and looking down at him. His hair falls around their face like a a curtain, blocking the sunlight out, and Eddie wants to kiss him.

“Is that Robin?” Steve grumbles. Eddie pauses, listening, and he hears Robin’s voice, speaking indistinctly, and a soft laugh from Nancy.

“Sounds like it,” he says quietly.

“What are they doing in my house?” Steve mumbles, leaning down to kiss Eddie’s forehead before he gets up, groaning as he stretches.

Eddie follows him to the kitchen, rubbing his face and squinting as sunlight reflects off the white walls. Robin is sitting on a counter, talking as Nancy makes coffee. Argyle is sitting on the dining table, following a joint while Jonathan watches. Nancy sees them first, looking over as they walk in.

“Morning, sleepyheads— Holy shit.”

Robin looks around her and bursts into laughter as Eddie raises an eyebrow in confusion. Jonathon looks up at them, his eyes scanning both of them vaguely, unimpressed, and Argyle grins at them.

“Jesus, Steve,” Robin says. “I thought Eddie was the vampire.”

Oh.

Eddie’s face burns as he looks at Steve, whose face is red.

“Shut up,” Steve snaps at Robin, who cackles, and he goes over to smack the back of her head as he reaches into the cabinet behind her to get his medication.

Eddie hesitates in the doorway, watching Steve pop the pills into his mouth and sip from the faucet while trying to avoid Robin’s kicking feet. He pushes his hair back, stepping to Nancy and asking quietly for a hair tie. She’s grinning as she stirs her coffee and she just holds her wrist up for him to take it. He kisses her hand when he does.

After tying his hair up, he goes to sit on the table behind where Jonathan is sitting backwards on a chair, using Jonathan’s head to hoist itself up, and Jonathan laughs lightly.

“Morning, fellas.”

“It’s past noon,” Jonathan says dryly.

“Oh, perfect, ‘s not too early to smoke.”

“It’s never too early, my friend,” Argyle says, handing a joint out to Eddie, who takes it with a smile.

Eddie watches while Steve pours coffee into two mugs, while he scoops the perfect amount of sugar and pours the perfect amount of cream into one of them. He watches while Steve banters with Robin, his cheeks still red, while he dodges her hand that’s reaching out to ruffle his hair.

Steve brings the coffee over to him, greeting Jonathan and standing next to Eddie as he sets the coffee down. Eddie lifts his chin, pulling the joint away from his lips as Steve leans down, and Steve smiles, leaning in until his lips brush Eddie’s.

Eddie blows smoke into his mouth slowly, smiling, and he kisses him before he pulls away. Steve blows the smoke into his face.

Eddie turns to find Argyle gazing at them as he lifts his mug to sip his coffee.

“Dude.”

“I love love,” Argyle says simply, and Jonathan snorts.

“Yeah, me too, man,” Eddie says, lifting his mug.

Steve cooks while Robin and Nancy drink their coffee, and Eddie follows him, sitting on the counter. He watches Robin mindlessly play with the ends of Nancy’s hair while Nancy takes a drag from Argyle’s joint.

Eddie cleans the dishes after they eat, and Steve takes his place on the counter, and Eddie leans against it, between his legs. Steve sets his arms over Eddie’s shoulders while Eddie watches the others laugh and talk across the table. Argyle is telling some story, and Jonathan is hiding his face behind his shirt as he laughs.

“Alright?” Steve asks quietly, leaning down so his mouth is right by his ear. Eddie tilts his head, relaxing against his chest.

“Mhmm.”

Steve is quiet for a moment, his hand moving to trace soft lines over Eddie’s neck for a moment before it stops and presses into a spot that’s no doubt bruised red or purple. Eddie bites his lip, his cheeks flushing as it hurts, and he wants to let Steve do it harder, but he smacks his hand away, and Steve giggles.

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.”

Eddie shakes his head fondly, looking back at him as Steve leans forward and rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Eddie says softly. Steve’s fingers run over the back of his exposed neck before he hugs him.

“I love you too.”

Steve buries his face in Eddie’s neck, kissing him gently, and Eddie’s hands find Steve’s forearms, holding him and smiling, his eyes fluttering shut before Robin’s voice says loudly, “Oh my god.”

Steve laughs without lifting his head, his breath hot against Eddie’s skin, and Eddie opens his eyes, laughing when he finds her staring at them.

“You guys were already insufferable with the PDA.”

Steve laughs again, looking up and setting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You’re gonna have to deal with it, Buckley,” Eddie says dryly. “I’ve got a hot boyfriend, I’m not gonna keep my hands off him.”

She just gives him an immense eye-roll, and Nancy grins, her eyes sparkling as Steve hides his face back in Eddie’s neck.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Argyle says, giving them a nod of approval.

“Thanks, Argyle.”

“Wait, does this mean your guest room is up for grabs now?” Robin asks, leaning so she can see them both around Nancy.

“Uh.” Steve hums a soft mhmm into his neck, and Eddie grins. “Let me take my posters and shit and yeah.”

“Nice.”

She moves in the next week. She often joins Steve in napping on Eddie.

tagging: @allbimyself26 @th3-r4t-k1ng @marvelmwah @papermachedragons @symbioticsimplicity @hereissananxiousmess @telidina @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @messrs-weasley @suikatto @fandemonium-takes-its-toll thank you all sm <3

and just bc i thought everyone might wanna know, the person that tweeted the post that inspired this also wrote something based on it too!! you can find it here :)

#ta da #i already have another wip for them #not including the ficlet series thing i’m doing #:) #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

[apomaro-mellow]

S1E08: Dear Max

S1E07

Steve looked unimpressively at how they’d spread out over his living room. “How many times have I said, I’m not playing your dork game?”

“We’re not here for you”, Dustin said.

Steve was about to question that when he saw El get comfortable next to Mike and take out a paper with a character drawn on it.

“No….”

Eddie grinned. “Ohhh the betrayal! Your own flesh and blood goes against you!”

“Please tell me you’re still sane?”, Steve pointed the question to Max, who was lounging in what was usually Jim’s chair, magazine in hand.

“I’m here to make fun of them.”

“Thank god”, Steve put a hand to his forehead.

“Still room for one more though”, Eddie offered.

“I’ll pass. I’ve got plans”, Steve said.

“No you don’t”, El said. “You said Robin was visiting relatives this weekend.”

“I’ve got friends other than Robin!”

“Such as?”, Mike asked.

“....Jonathan.”

“Then you can join him in the kitchen”, Will said. “He’s making us snacks.”

Max patted the armrest next to her, the only seat left, as Steve sighed and resigned himself to a Saturday spent doing this.

—----------------------------

“Why are you dragging me to the rodeo?”, Eddie questioned as Dustin and Lucas tried pulling him from his trailer home.

“You’ll see when you get there”, Dustin said.

“I like westerns as much as the next guy, and a dude in boots as much as the guy after that but-”

“Dude! Just get in the van and drive!”, Lucas shoved him the rest of the way.

They got to the rodeo that had rolled into town the day before, a crowd of cowboy hats, jeans, and huge belt buckles greeting them when they got to the fairgrounds. Dustin and Lucas talked amongst themselves, figuring out which way to go before Will and Mike found them. With the combined strength of all four, they guided Eddie to a corndog booth that sat between the lemonade stand and one that sold deep-fried oreos. And standing there, handing out meat on a stick, was Steve Harrington.

Robin was there too. But it wasn’t her legs in jeans that Eddie was interested in. He didn’t even know what it was about it that got him going. He’d seen Steve in jeans before. But apparently the combo with the hat and deep blue button up did it for him. He was pretty sure if Steve walked out, he’d be in boots too.

His hearing went in and out but when Dustin nudged him, he figured he was supposed to be making fun of the new job and the new get up that the unlikely pair of Buckley and Harrington had.

Eddie cleared his throat and walked up to the counter. “You two seem to have the worst luck with jobs.”

“You gonna order something Munson, or just stare?”, Steve asked, hands on the counter.

Eddie looked at the menu, which had about five things on it. “What, no deep fried butter?”

“Two booths down”, Steve jabbed a thumb in the direction. 

“Steve, stop flirting and help me with these boxes”, Robin called.

It was just as well because Eddie was then dragged away to something else by the boys. He counted two heads missing from their usual group though.

“Where’s El and Max?”

“Max really didn’t wanna come for some reason”, Lucas said. “But El wanted to see the horses, so they’re at the pony rides.”

They ended up meeting all up at the arena set up for the competitions. Eddie was an appreciator of the culture and the feats of athleticism, even though he appreciated it for reasons different from the others. It wasn’t hard to imagine Steve tossing a lasso around and hogtying something down.

“Your brother got any talent for this kind of stuff?”, Eddie asked El.

“Steve? No way”, El giggled.

“He could”, Dustin said in Steve’s defense. “He’s pretty good at most sports.”

Then the announcer presented the next sport. One that Eddie had actually been waiting for. Because what was more fun than seeing guys try and stay on a bucking horse and then seeing how far they flew?

Of course there were quite a few good ones, these guys trained for it. But then the person on the mic announced the next competitor and nearly all of their jaws dropped.

“Give it up for Billy Hargrove!”

“He’s pretty good”, El said as she watched him keep his hold on the horse. “...What? Why isn’t anybody saying anything? Is he not good?”

“This is why you didn’t wanna come”, Lucas said to Max.

“Yeah, and you guys brought me anyway”, she crossed her arms.

“How were we supposed to know?! You never told us!”, Mike shouted.

“Hargrove’s in the rodeo, whoda thunk?”, Eddie said.

“Who is Billy Hargrove? Max? Where are you going?”, El called out as Max stomped off.

“Billy is Max’s stepbrother”, Dustin explained. “He left before you guys moved to town.”

“And he’s an asshole”, Will added context.

“He threatened all of us a bunch of times just for being friends with Max”, Lucas said. “But then one day he just disappeared. Max never told us where he went.”

“Gonna be honest, I kinda just assumed Mayfield ended him”, Eddie said.

They all went in search of Max, splitting up to find her. Eventually, Eddie went back to the corndog booth to see if either Robin or Steve had seen her, only to see Hargrove’s back leaning over the counter, chatting up Steve. His stomach dropped. Steeling his nerves, he walked up and tapped Billy’s shoulder.

“Pretty sure the rodeo clowns are about to go on and the show can’t start without its star.”

Steve raised a brow at Eddie’s sudden rudeness, but didn’t say anything just yet.

“Munson, as I live and breathe. They haven’t run you outta town yet?”

“Oh I think they’re saving the pitchforks for someone else”, Eddie said.

“Look, I’m just trying to find Max, have you seen her? I saw her in the audience, so I know she’s here.”

“You know Max?”, Steve asked.

Billy turned back to Steve, smile cordial. “She’s my stepsister. And it sounds like you know her too, so she’s probably been around this way, right?”

“Are you here to mess with Max?”, Lucas accused, arriving with the rest of them.

Billy gave pause, looking at each of them in turn, seeming to consider something before speaking again. “I just wanna talk to her. It’s been a while and I think I’m owed that at least.”

“You want to talk!?”, Max shouted, shooting up from behind the counter.

Robin appeared behind her, hand on her shoulder. She’d been around for Billy’s reign of terror, though she hadn’t known Max and the other kids yet. He’d made quite the name for himself at school. Steve was getting a better idea of the situation brewing and crossed his arms.

“I sent you a letter”, Max said. “And you never responded. So what the hell do you have to say to me?”

Billy looked around. “Can we talk in private?”

There was more than one ‘no’ and that was enough to get people staring. There was the potential of a small crowd forming to watch the spectacle. Billy huffed, bristling a little.

“Fine”, he bit out, then stalked off.

There was a collective sigh of relief and Steve put a hand to Max’s shoulder. He didn’t need to know the details to know that had been a tense situation. That evening, the group hung out at the Hopper home. Steve and El didn’t ask any questions. And Max revealed nothing. They didn’t go to the rodeo after that, besides Steve and Robin, who had to finish up their stint while it was still in town.

On the last day, Billy came up to their booth and put an envelope on the counter. “Please, can you make sure Max gets this? Tell her I’m sorry about not replying, but I couldn’t.”

“You think I’ll actually give it to her?”, Steve asked, having half a mind to rip it up.

“She trusts you. That’s enough for me.” Billy tipped his hat and then left without another word.

Steve looked down at the letter, wishing he had more info to make a better decision, but in the end gave it to Max. She could decide for herself.

He handed it to her in the middle of a hangout when they were chilling in the backyard and she immediately went up into El’s room with her. Feeling a bit useless, Steve went into the garage to work on his car. Wanting to ease the tension, Dustin brought up a question he’d had for a few days.

“I feel like Eddie should’ve laughed at the cowboy get up more when he saw Steve. Did he seem distracted to you?”

Mike and Lucas shared a look, wondering if now was a good time to share what they knew.

“Remember the baseball game?”, Lucas started.

Mike put his hands together. “I found this diary in the dugout and…”

Episode 9 coming soon

#apo writes #stranger things #the party #max mayfield #billy hargrove

[i-heart-slashers]

"I love you, and I'll do anything to prove it."

Pairings: Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): violence, death, jealousy, blood mentioned.

It started with a comment. 

One sly dig at your relationship with Eddie, but hearing the comment coming from your best friend was enough to bring out an ugly paranoia in your boyfriend.

Eddie already hated sharing you with Steve and Nancy, but he did it for you. He'd do anything for you, double dates, study dates, hanging out with them after school - even pretending not to hear his 'nickname' coming from King Steve's mouth and the giggles drawn from his friends after.

Listening to Steve mock his relationship as nothing more than a passing phase, that you would soon get bored of being with Eddie and break up with him, made his stomach turn.

But his love for you stopped him from calling Steve out. He knew that the two of you were childhood friends, and it would upset you a lot to know that Steve was talking shit about the two of you.

That, however, all vanished when word got around the school that Steve had broken up with Nancy after a party. The popular kids had quickly turned on the brunette when rumors leaked out that not only did she 'lead Steve on' but that she was cheating on him with Jonathan Byers.

Eddie had looked around the school for you only to be told by a smirking Tommy that you had gone to Steve's house to keep him company after he'd decided to skip after being so upset over his fallen relationship.

The metalhead's blood boiled, catching the innuendo within Tommy's words together with what he overheard Steve saying, and Eddie came to one single conclusion.

Steve had lured you back to his house to put the charms on you.

The chain on his belt loops clanged against his thigh as Eddie ran to his van. All he could think about was Steve and you, you and Steve all alone. Together. He knew that you would never cheat on him, but Steve was another story.

He didn't even shut the van off after he stomped on the breaks outside Steve Harrington's massive home; he'd been here before but never with an invite. 

Watching over you was one of his favorite hobbies, not that you knew he was monitoring your every move. If you went somewhere, Eddie was never too far behind.

Stomping into the Harrington house probably wasn't the best idea, but he wasn't thinking straight. As much as he was trying to tell himself that nothing was happening, all he could picture was Steve running his hands over your body.

Following the familiar floorplan of the house, Eddie stopped outside the door, which led to the room he'd snuck into many times. 

Kicking the door open, Eddie seethed, seeing you and Steve wrapped in a hug. If Eddie had looked closer, he would have seen the tear tracks on Steve's face and the comforting pats you were giving his back, but he didn't.

Instead, he saw you in the arms of someone trying to steal you away. He saw the arms holding you close to someone who wasn't him, a face in your neck that wasn't Eddie's own.

You saw the fury on your boyfriend's face; he'd never hidden his jealousy of others well. Although he might have thought he'd been good at it, his eyes always showed his true emotion.

Standing from Steve's bed, you put your hands up as the metalhead stalked closer. "Eddie, I'm just helping Steve. He's going through a rough patch with Nance".

The hysterical laugh pulled from the older man was nothing you had heard from him before. "Oh yeah, that's totally what it looked like. Sat on his bed with his hands all over you".

Seeing Eddie's out-of-hand emotions, Steve stood up behind you and tried to calm the situation. Pushing in front of you protectively, he subtly pushed Eddie away from you. "Come on, man. You've got it all wrong."

That was the boiling point for Eddie.

Steve pushing him away from you, his girl. You were his, not Harrington's. He could get any girl he wanted, but here he was going after you, the only girl who ever showed Eddie any attention.

Well, he couldn't have you.

His ring-covered first struck against Steve's cheekbone as you let out a loud scream.  

One punch turned into three, which soon had Eddie's fist tight in Steve's collar as he wailed on him. Steve tried to put up a fight but soon found that Eddie, although bullied at school, was stronger than he looked.

"Eddie, stop!" You screamed over and over as your boyfriend's hand turned red from the blood pouring from Steve's face, his nose crooked and eyes swelling. "Please! Eddie!" 

Steve wasn't putting up much of a fight anymore. He seemed to let Eddie continue, almost waiting for it to end. He was quietly trying to plead with the taller boy, but nothing was getting through.

Placing your hand on Eddie's fist, you pushed yourself in between them, nudging Steve further behind you. "Eddie, I said stop!" you shouted, gazing into his wild eyes.

You had never seen him get angry before; you'd never even heard him shout.

Glaring up at him, you had a flare of anger. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" your shouting seemed to shift something in Eddie. His eyes darken as his eyes move to look over your shoulder. With a growl, Eddie tries to reach over you to grab Steve. 

Seeing you struggling to keep Eddie away, his fight quickly returned to him. "You!" He gritted his teeth "I should have put you down after hearing the shit you talked about us".

You were stuck between the two of them now, Eddie on the warpath looking as if he could kill and now Steve was arguing back. It shocked you to hear him air out all of his negative feelings about your relationship.

"You don't deserve her!" Steve yelled as a well-timed, and aimed fist struck against his already broken nose, sending him flying to the ground. 

You gasped, smacking your hands against Eddie's chest when he tried to move forward to a sobbing Steve. Eddie's hands wrap around your biceps as he pushes you away from him roughly.

Letting out a cry, you hit against Steve's desk before crumpling to the ground in shock, your boyfriend had never shown any signs of aggression before today, and now he was putting his hands on you?

Eddie stops in his track with wide eyes. "Shit," he swore, bending down to you. "I didn't mean to push you, sweetheart," he apologized, brushing your hair out of your face.

He rocked the two of you back and forth as he rambled, "I'd never hurt you on purpose. You're my sweetheart. Mine. Not his," he hissed, nodding in Steve's direction.

"I love you, and I'll do anything to prove it." He whispered, gathering both of your wrists in his hand as he undid his belt with the other. You struggled with him as he quickly wrapped the leather around your wrists as you cried.

Steve lay whimpering on the floor, his face almost indistinguishable now, but there was nothing he could do to help you; he couldn't even save himself now.

"I'm sorry, but this will all be over soon," Your boyfriend muttered, reaching into his back pocket for his bandana, gently tying it around your mouth as it quickly became saturated by your tears. "It's you and me forever."

Eddie gently laid you back on the floor as he walked back over to Steve. You wriggled for a moment with a huff, but there was no getting out of this. 

Closing your eyes, you could only listen and cry, hearing fists on skin, the dull thumping of your boyfriend beating your best friend to death.

#yandere #horror #horror slashers #slashers #reader insert #stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere stranger things #yandere eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #yandere x reader #yandere prompts #birthday prompts #prompt challenge #dark fics #horror baby birthday

[theold-ultraviolence]

HAPPY SELF INDULGENCE SUNDAY!

For this self indulgence sunday, @dumpsterfirecee and I decided on the last minute to do moodboards again! but now spooky. So I'm indulging by making one for the Bride of Chucky AU of my dreams that nobody asked for but that lives in my head rent free waiting to be written. For now I'll do headcanons to go with it and maybe this will give me motivation to actually do it! Featuring Kas!Eddie, which I hadn't taken a go at yet but I've been meaning to.

Child's Play

First, came the heartbreak. After everything that had happened in the Upside Down, after you'd held Eddie's body until he knew no more pain.

Then, came the anger.

It'd been unfair. How he'd been made out to be Hawkin's great scapegoat when he'd been completely innocent. You couldn't bear it, so you fled town immediately after.

You moved to Chicago, where you frequented the shittiest bars and nightclubs in the whole city. That hadn't been your scene at all when Eddie was still alive, but the pain led you to search for something - anything - to numb it.

In one of those clubs, you met Tiffany and Charles.

They had an edge about them, something that screamed danger, that you somehow found thrilling. Soon you became the third piece of the rollercoaster of a relationship that they had going on.

Their arguments were loud but the way in which they made up was even louder. Which you enjoyed, tremendously.

So loud, in fact, that it completely escaped you.

What they did when you were too busy looking at the window and yearning for Eddie.

To you, he'd just been Chucky. But they called him, The Lakeshore Strangler.

Which you'd found out in the news, on the night he was killed, in 1988.

Tiffany had been devastated, a mirror image of you, just two years prior.

But beyond her heartache, in her eyes there was utter determination, when soon, the papers started covering the story of Andy Barclay, the kid who'd claimed that his Good Guy doll had been possessed by the soul of serial killer, Charles Lee Ray.

From then on, you'd witness her madly scrambling through Chucky's belongings, trying to make sense of the interest in voodoo that had taken over him before he passed. If there was a way to cheat death, that Chucky had found, she was gonna get him back, somehow. Didn't matter how much time it passed or what it took, she was gonna get him back.

Which got you to think...

You watched Tiffany closely, studied her every move, memorized the elements needed, the words of the Damballa chant until you had to say goodbye, and made your way back to Hawkins, to your old home back at the trailer park, where you'd first met Eddie.

You got everything together, made sure everything was set and right.

Within a drawn pentagram on the floor, you flooded the trailer with candlelight, framing Eddie's guitar pick - his very last gift to you.

You kneeled on the floor, when the moon was full, and spoke with conviction, "Ade due Damballa, give me the power I beg of you..."

Thunder and lightning sparked but nothing happened, nothing but dead silence overflowing the cramped space.

You waited a minute, then two, and nothing.

"What a crock" you huffed before standing up to blow out the lights and prepare for bed, defeated.

Of course nothing happened, stuff like this just didn't happen. They only happened in the campy horror movies Eddie liked to watch.

Maybe Tiffany had been delirious in her denial of Chucky's death.

But just when you'd come out of the bathroom, fresh in your pajamas after having taken a warm bath, you'd heard a creaking noise in the living room space, that made you hurry to inspect for a thief, or maybe a racoon.

But what you saw made your heart stop.

He was kneeling by the pentagram, grabbing his guitar pick. His own sweetheart, strapped to his back and just as otherwordly as you remebered the instrument.

His face was murky; stained with caked blood and soil; his clothes were battle-worn, torn and ragged. He had a limp in his step and he was all scarred up.

But his smile was just as bright as it had always been. Just as mischievous, just as loving.

"Hey, babe!"

You couldn't speak. Your heart beat so loudly you were so sure he was hearing it.

"Look! I'm all, 'Night of the living dead' like this! I'd ask for a kiss but I probably reek."

You rushed right up to him and clung to his neck, kissing him over and over and not minding his state in the least. It had worked, the ritual had worked, he was back!

"Welcome back!" You sigh right against his lips.

"Just a warning, babe...things may not be...a 100% exactly like they were." He uttered.

"What do you mean?"

"Some things changed me...while I was down there. I didn't actually die..."

Just then, you noticed his pupils dilating slowly, irises turning a bright ambar shade.

And when he smiled, two sharp fangs grew where his canines used to be...

#self indulgence sundays #dumpsterfirecee #my writing #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson #kas!eddie #bride of chucky au #tiffanny valentine #charles lee ray #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #gender neutral reader

[nushy]

It is time.

I still don't have a title for this one, but... part 1 is here. also: part 2 and part 3

A/N: besties, i needed something positive after s4, vol.2 so here we don't have anything supernatural - just a normal Hawkins, normal kids, etc, etc. Our pretty boy is alive and well.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you are the new girl in town and Eddie is seeing something he likes. And you too. (i am sooooo bad at summaries)

warnings: a lot of spelling and grammar errors (sorry, english is not my native language), blood, punching, cursing, drug use, smoking, strong language (?), maybe SA if you squint, in the next parts there will be smut. idk

word count: 1.4K

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

You knew the day was going to be bad the moment you woke up. First, the milk had gone bad so you just skipped breakfast, then your car broke so you had to walk to school and on your way there your favorite bracelet tore and you just threw it away. And to top it all off – well, you had to go to school.

The day only got worse when, while strolling through your locker and searching for a pen, someone stood by you and started talking to you.

“Hey, new girl, wanna come with me tonight to show you the town?” You looked at the guy – and, oh my god, the most generic white boy was smiling stupidly at you. What’s more, he was part of the basketball team. Fuck, you thought to yourself. Yes, of course, new girls always get the attention, especially when they were dressed like you – short black skirt and pretty cropped top handmade by you from one of your favorite band t-shirts (very against the school dress code but you really didn’t care). But what was he thinking, trying his luck with you – what were you going to talk about – you doubted that he knew any of the bands you liked, or the scary movies, or the fantasy books. Plus, he was soooo far from your type.

“No, thanks, I’ve got plans” you responded and then resumed your pen search.

“What plans can you have, I doubt that you have any friends here to have plans with” he chuckled at his own joke. You took a deep breath, trying not to scream right there and then. And in this moment, your salvation came by – you knew the boy vaguely, cause you saw him yesterday at lunch and were immediately drawn to him – his long curly hair, leather jacket and denim vest with Dio stitch on the back and of course, you favorite, his big metal rings. When you passed by his table you heard him talking about the gig he was having the next evening with his band and you noted that in your head. Now this was your alibi. You stretched out your hand and grabbed the boy that was passing by, drawing him to you.

“Well, yeah, tonight I’m going to see him playing with his band” you said pretty conveniently, one of the boys was shocked and the other one was a bit… disgusted?

“What? Eddie Munson? This freak? You better be joking” he scoffed. The boy next to you, Eddie, just signed but still didn’t try to escape your grasp, he was intrigued. And you were pissed so you decided that it will be the hard way.

“You talking about yourself? You a freak?” you asked dumbly and laughed. His face became red, and Eddie reacted for the first time with a sincere laugh.

“You bitch, I was just trying to be nice.” the player was angry. But the way he called you made you furious. And Eddie immediately knew because your hand, that was still on his, grasped him harder.

“What did you just call me?” you asked, your jaw clenched.

“What you are – a bitch. I was trying to be nice but apparently you like the weirdos.” He was a total douche and you knew what those needed, so you let go of Eddie’s hand, and you punched the idiot in the face. Right in the nose – and that was the best feeling of the day. He immediately put his hands on his face, a small trail of blood got to his mouth. Eddie gasped, then let out a small laugh.

“Don’t ever dare to call me bitch…. or him a freak.. ever again” you said, standing close to his face, his eyes wide and shocked, but full of anger. With him still standing shocked in front of you, you turned to Eddie and said calmly:

“Wanna skip the next class and go somewhere far from this shithole?” He was a bit taken aback but still nodded and you grabbed his hand and guided him to the exit. 

Outside of the school building you managed to take a deep breath and to think clearly about the situation you were in, Eddie’s hand still in yours.

“Wow” was all he could say. You looked at him and started laughing, not knowing how else to react. He looked at you, confused at first, but soon joined you in the laugh. “It was a really good punch tho.”

“Yeah, my father taught me how to punch, said I had to be like the boys or better.” you explained, dryly smiling.

“This one was definitely better.” Eddie looked at you, from head to toes, for the first time. And, boy, was he impressed. Not just by the outfit – but by your face, the fire in your eyes, the messy, yet beautiful, hair, the chipped black nail polish and the several skull rings on your fingers. You blushed. And for some minutes there was silence.

“So, where are we going? And can you drive, my car broke this morning.” you broke the silence. Eddie looked around, thinking, then smiled and grabbed you by the waist.

“I have  the perfect idea. And we don’t even need a car.” So you two left the parking in front of the school.

It really was a short walk through the woods, until you got to a clearing with a wooden table in the center and two wooden benches.

“My favorite spot, no one comes here.” he said with a delight in his voice. And, to be fair, you liked the place – it was quiet, it was nature, and there was no one around. You sat on the bench, Eddie sat on the opposite one, there was silence once again. You got your backpack on the table and started to search for something, Eddie looking at you with confusion. He really didn’t know what to expect next from you.

“Want some?” you took out a blunt and handed it to him. And, boy, was he shocked, because he expected everything, but definitely not this. “Or you don’t use those kind of things.” You continued when you didn’t get a response. Eddie finally managed to react letting out a loud laugh.

“Sweety, I sell those things.” It was your time to be shocked, as he put his black lunch box that you noticed just now, and he opened it. You looked inside and nodded with a grin on your face.

“Yep, you definitely sell those things.” then you both laughed. You lit the joint and took turns until you both were feeling light as feathers. 

“So, you new here?” he asked. You took a deep breath, your thoughts were a bit scrambled but not that much.

“Yeah, came here 3 days ago with my father. He’s a truck driver, his station is near, so we settled here, in the trailer park.” Eddie’s eyes grew bigger.

“No way, I live there too.” You honestly didn’t know that but it was a really cool coincidense.

“Yeah, basically I live mostly alone, as my father is always on the road, but he makes good money and he sends me to help me. But I still consider finding a job. Shitty part is I have to finish school, and I’ve changed a lot of those. Good thing is, this time I managed to go two days without punching someone, last time I punched the guidance lady on my first day… but it was her fault, she acted like I was stupid.” The weed made you chatty, but it seemed like Eddie didn’t mind as he was carefully listening to you talking about your life.

You had no idea how much time has passed as you talked about everything there is to talk about (you definitely clicked as your interests were basically the same), but it was slowly getting darker and Eddie suddenly jumped.

“The gig!” he looked at his clock. “Damn, it starts in two hours, gotta go or the boys will be pissed.” you looked him with heavy eyes but still stood up.

“Yeah, but Eddie, I will be heading home, not feeling like going to a bar right now.” You looked him in the eyes and for a moment you could have sworn there was a trace of sadness (or were you just high?). He lifted slowly his shoulders and tried to be casual:

“You lose.” he said with a grin. And with that said you both headed to the school parking lot for him to hop on his van. You sobered up quickly while walking through the woods, Eddie also looked quite fine. There was silent once again but it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was nice. Your hands brushed lightly, you smiled not sure if it was because of the weed, or you just started to fall for the boy, not knowing that he was thinking just the same.

“Want a ride? I can give you a lift to the trailer park and then head to the Hideout. " You declined.

“I need a bit more fresh air, I will walk. You go or you will be late.” Eddie smiled so sincerely that you wanted to jump right away in the van next to him, but you just waved goodbye and walked away.

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson ff #eddie munson fic

[fuctacles]

Demon!Eddie [2/?]

previously on | read on Ao3

He almost managed to survive high school without too big of a hitch until Chrissy happened.

Of course, he knew there was dark shit under the surface of things, with him being a prime example. But he foolishly hoped he would never meet another one like him. He was laying low (to his standards at least), never exposing himself, steering away from anything even remotely occultist. Just being a regular teenager. Free-spirited, with a penchant for sins, a “freak”, but a teenager nevertheless.

So when Chrissy’s body flew up in the air, right in front of him in his uncle’s unassuming trailer, he knew the jig was up. 

And Eddie, being a coward, decided to run before whatever came for her, could get to him. Or maybe it already did, considering his life as a human being got kind of ruined.

He couldn’t do anything, even running sounded like a risky business right now. He could only pace around the messy shed that felt like his last line of defence, his only safe haven. Although only from humans.

Whenever he passed a stray piece of shiny metal, he looked away, his reflection only making him feel worse. He was too stressed to take control of his body, but there was no one to see his horns anyway. He was painfully, gut-wrenchingly alone. The whole town was against him and the only one who knew what he was, was his uncle. Who he wasn’t going to selfishly drag into his mess. As his only family member, he was getting enough shit already. 

With his senses on high alert, he felt people approach his hideout. He was pretty sure he could sniff out the familiar presence of Henderson but he was with others he didn’t recognise, and they were older. He didn’t know who he could trust and he wasn’t counting on his luck at this point. So he hid in the shadows, willing his horns and claws back under the skin, his grip finding a stray beer bottle. 

It felt like hours of holding his breath and weighing his chances but it was just moments later when he was pinning someone to the wall and showing his meanest face to the startled guy in front of him. He took in his widened gaze and the tantalizing smell. He smelled familiar, of Hellfire kids and fresh sins the way all teenagers smelled of. And arousal, his demon brain supplied, along with registering the lack of fear he was hoping for.

Eddie tightened his grip. Harrington, jock, threat, he reprimanded his demon instincts. 

Then Dustin started talking, finally a comforting familiarity among the madness of the past day, and muscle by muscle, Eddie relaxed and backed away. He watched Harrington rub his neck and the demon inside him twisted, wishing he had drawn blood. 

They sat down (Eddie couldn’t remember when was the last time he just let himself sit down and stop pacing) and he listens to their story. He almost felt foolish for assuming another demon was out to get him, but the whole thing sounded so insane he didn’t feel like being self-conscious at the moment.

He thinks about it but doesn’t tell them. Yes, “my parents sold my soul to the devil for a lifetime supply of meth,” suddenly didn’t sound so crazy anymore but Eddie feared the implications of it. That he could take on another demon and be actually useful for once in his life.

A demon, because he was fairly positive the portal their mindfreak friend opened led to hell. He hoped it did because the mere thought there were other, possibly worse dimensions cohabiting with their own made a bile rise in his stomach and he just got his hands on this cereal and he was going to keep it down, damnit!

The first time Eddie stepped into the Upside Down, an electric shock ran through his body and all air was punched out of his chest. He might have been out of the water but breathing seemed even more impossible than when he was swimming and his skin was on fire. 

Then just as it started, it suddenly stopped and he took a few painful gulps of air. His demon side purred in contentment, nudging at his skin from the inside to be let out.

So, definitely hell. 

But he wasn’t scared. Well, he was, but of his newfound Party. His friends. The ones who clued him into a big government conspiracy and helped him out, the ones he still hasn’t told a word. Because what if after all that, they turned against him? After all, he was a monster, just like the ones they killed.

So he tagged along, hoping against all hope that they’ll fix all this without him ever needing to come out. That one day they could just hang out and laugh about it all like normal human teenagers. With strange otherworldly trauma, but hey, that’s just another thing to bond over. 

Because when he forgot for a moment about the impending doom, Eddie was having the time of his life. Hanging out with Henderson and the rest of The Party, meeting Robin and Steve, other teenagers actually his age. They might be preparing for war but they’re doing it in style.

These were also the times when Eddie would forget that he wasn’t actually human. Not one hundred percent at least. The reason he liked hanging out with the Hellfire kids was very simple and trivial: they didn’t smell of sins. Not yet. While sitting in class he was often distracted by a boner concealed three desks from his, or the overwhelming smell of alcohol from a hungover teen. Eddie didn’t know what kind of purpose his demon senses served but they were pretty annoying when he just wanted to survive high school.

And also hellishly invasive to his new friends. He could feel Max and Lucas making out behind him and just a whiff of Robin told him queer, virgin. It was also hard to explain what he was so amused by when he was the only one to feel the straight aura around Nancy getting fuzzy whenever the two girls talked. 

Eddie also might have been using that for his own entertainment.

Because Steve Harrington smelled like a storm, like fire Eddie was itching to play with. And even watching it was a spectacle in itself.

Usually, Steve’s aura gave off straight(?), definitely not a virgin. With Nancy Wheeler close by, it turned tense, a residual sense of lust, albeit stale like a grandma’s pussy. Yuck, but that’s exactly how it felt to Eddie.

Especially comparing it to when Eddie was the one who leaned close to him. The air around Steve would explode, settling thicker and richer each time. The granny vag let out its last breath and Steve smelled as delicious as the confused guys Eddie would meet at the bars. The smell of straightness (wet concrete after summer rain) turned fruity (a chocolate-covered strawberry bursting open in Eddie’s mouth) and Eddie was quite proud of himself for that. Suck on that, Nancy Wheeler!

#steddie #mine #stranger things 4 #demon!eddie munson #st #ff #idk how tumblr works #wip #feel free to point out any mistakes #this will be at ao3 at some point now just have the slightly mismatched barely edited bits from my daily writing attempts #fruity 4 #st.harrington

[wrenegadeone]

Vampire!Eddie fix it fic:

Tentative start, what do you think?

Eddie woke to darkness, fully encompassing and stifling and absolutely unsettling. Realizing there was a fabric of some sort over his face, Eddie reached up, fingers clutching the material of Dustin’s gilly suit as he pulled it down away from his head and chest. The sky above was dark with dust particles lingering in the air and distant flashes of red light illuminating the murky clouds.

He was still in the upside-down.

Part of Eddie wondered if Dustin had left him for dead, but there was something whispering in the back of his mind, something Eddie didn’t really want to think about. Dustin had probably left him there to get help after Eddie had passed out. With a broken leg, there was no way that the kid would have managed to drag the both of them back home.

The first thing he did was bring his hands up to his body, patting himself down and searching for the missing chunks of skin he’d felt being torn from his flesh. There were no marks; Eddie pawed at his throat to find where he could still recall the feeling of those numbingly painful teeth tearing into him. Unmarred skin covered in dried blood, dirt and grime.

None of the others had mentioned the upside-down being able to heal injuries. Eddie pushed himself to a stand slowly, though none of his body seemed to particularly scream in protest. It didn’t make any sense, he remembered laying there, broken and bleeding out in Dustin’s arms, blood choking him as darkness had pulled him under.

Dustin was gone, and Eddie was alone now. There was a tingling, trickling feeling near the nape of his neck, one that beckoned him into the unknown.

The mind flayer was calling him, and part of Eddie yearned to follow the pull.

Eddie wandered slowly back to his trailer, the back end of it torn open by a massive rift split straight from where the gate had been. The thick, rubbery membrane caused an eerie glow to come from it, though part of the original gate was still exposed, filtering the faintest trace of sunlight from the other side.

Grabbing a chair from nearby, to stand on, Eddie brought his hand up to haul himself over. His fingertips barely grazed the edge of the gate when burning hot pain seared across his flesh and he wrenched his arms back with a hiss. A second and third attempt got the same results— like the light of the real world was scalding hot to his flesh.

A chittering sound came from nearby, one that Eddie knew immediately. He whirled around, nearly tripping off of his chair and into the hole of the rift. He jumped down quickly, grabbing the chair and holding it in front of himself as he looked around wildly for something that could be used as a weapon.

“Get back!” he rasped out, backing as far as he could from the creature without falling through the gaping maw that took over the majority of the living room. The bat-like creature made the clicking sound again, ugly tooth-filed maw opening to screech a bit before it flew off, away from Eddie. When it didn’t immediately return, Eddie placed the chair back down.

Confused but wary, Eddie slowly crept down the hallway, grabbing an old broom on his way, until he reached the dusty and dark shadow copy of his bedroom. There were two bats on his dresser and he brandished the broom. They saw him, and he swung the broom with a shout, shooing them off. They screeched at him, skittering off out through the vent they’d entered.

A chill slid down Eddie’s spine, thick and oily as it whispered in his mind, fed him with the urge to chase the sensation like a bird drawn to land. Another part of Eddie’s gut instinct told him that to follow the call would mean certain death, if not for him than for others.

Eddie walked along the rift, following it for miles. Even with the thick atmosphere of the upside-down, it wasn’t enough to drown out the screams and sounds of chaos that sometimes came from the rightside-up. Other times there were stretches of walking where nothing but the sound of his footsteps permeated the void.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve eddie #fix it fic

[thisissirius]

👀👀👀 "don't be scared, I'm right here" pls dear siri

take you over anybody else [ao3 link] eddie/buck, minor injuries, hurt/comfort

for my darling @capseycartwright :)

The truck is tense. 

Eddie’s not looking at him, face turned to the window, and he’s got a hand on his knee. Buck’s used to sitting close to him, easier to touch, jostle, and generally mess around. Now, he’s on the other side of the cab and Buck’s never been so aware of the distance. 

“Eddie,” he says, desperate to make things right. 

“I don’t want to talk about it here,” Eddie says, tone clipped, and Buck can see the look Hen and Chimney share. 

Ignoring them, he sighs, knows he should let it rest, but he doesn’t want them to go into a burning building with this hanging over them. “If you would just let me explain—”

“What’s to explain?” Eddie snaps. “You don’t think I’m making the correct choices in my life or in Christopher’s life. You apparently think I should mourn Shannon forever. I’m not allowed to get hurt, so you don’t want me making my own choices.” When he stares at Buck, Buck feels it cut deep, stealing his breath. “Did I forget anything?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Buck snaps back, because if Eddie will just listen—

Eddie snorts, turns away and what the fuck, Buck’s trying to fix this. 

“Look at me,” Buck says. 

“Both of you, quiet,” Bobby says, his voice cutting through the cab. Eddie ducks his head, embarrassed, and Buck looks out of the window, skin crawling. He hates when he and Eddie fight, when they’re not a unit. It makes everything else feel wrong. 

They jump out of the truck as it arrives, Bobby immediately taking charge. “Buckley, Diaz, you take the basement.”

Eddie looks irritated, but his face smooths out and Buck takes his cue; they’ve worked together and been pissed off. They can do this. Eddie stares up at the sky, as if bracing himself, and when he looks at Buck there’s an expression on his face that Buck doesn’t understand. “Let’s go.”

Buck follows, willing to sink into the headspace of firefighter. He calls out, does the sweeps with Eddie. There’s a groaning from above and Buck looks up, doesn’t like how bent and warped the wood is. “Eddie,” he says. “We should move quickly.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and Buck tries not to let on that he’s surprised. “You’re right. Let’s get out of here.”

This time it’s Buck leading the way, and he heads back towards the stairs. There’s a lot of clutter in the basement and Buck makes a mental note to tell the inhabitants to clean up and make access easier. He says as much to Eddie. “—don’t know why people don’t wanna navigate the place they keep their laundry shit,” he mutters. 

There’s a snort from behind him—amused or pissed off, Buck can’t tell—and then a creak. 

“Shit,” Eddie says. Then, “Buck!”

Something creaks above, a noise that makes Buck panic, and then nothing.        

_____________

Buck snaps awake abruptly, and immediately wishes he hadn't. Pain shoots through his stomach, down his side and he groans. 

"Easy," someone says to his left. 

Eddie, Buck thinks. There's a dull pain in the back of Buck's head and he opens his eyes slowly, immediately scared when he can't see anything. "Eddie," he says, voice shaking. "I can't see." 

"It's dark," Eddie replies, and Buck can see movement, an arm in his periphery. "We're trapped." 

"Fuck." Buck can feel weight on his stomach, along his left side, underneath his body. "We fell?" 

Eddie snorts, a noise filled with pain and Buck tries to find his face in the darkness. "More like something fell on us." 

Okay. This is fine. Buck's eyes adjust to the darkness and he can see rubble and wood crashed around them, and through it, Eddie's face. There's dirt on one cheek, except Buck doesn't think it's dirt. "You're hurt?" 

Eddie doesn't say anything for a moment, which is all the answer Buck needs. Then, quietly, "so are you." 

Frowning, Buck says, "what?" He's fairly sure he'd know if he was injured. "I'm fine," he continues, running his hands over his chest, down to his stomach and yeah, everything's not okay.

"Hey," Eddie's voice snaps through Buck's awareness. "Listen to me, Buck, breathe for me, okay?" 

Hyperventilating, Buck thinks. Embarrassing. 

"Don't be scared," Eddie says, his voice thick. "I'm right here, Buck, okay? I'm right here." 

Eddie's here. 

Buck's okay as long as Eddie's here. 

Breathing finally evening out, Buck wraps his fingers around the pole currently stuck in his side and stomach and swallows down the urge to throw up. It doesn't hurt, which should probably worry him, but he turns his head, looks at Eddie. "We're getting out of this?" 

"We are," Eddie says, with a certainty that surprises Buck. Eddie doesn't lie to him.

Which means, back in the truck—

“I’m sorry,” Buck says immediately, because he needs Eddie to know. 

Eddie grunts, like he’s trying to move, and when Buck looks, he can see rocks and rubble tumbling away from Eddie. “For what?”

Buck swallows, thinks of their argument in the truck, Bobby’s voice cutting across them, telling them to stow it and work it out later. “You can make your own choices.”

"it doesn't matter,” Eddie says immediately. There’s another shift of rocks, this time on the other side of Eddie. Buck frowns, realises Eddie’s trying to protect him from falling rocks and can’t stop the words spilling out of his mouth. 

“I didn’t mean to, I just wanted you to know.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, sounding wrecked. “It doesn't matter. Whatever happened before, i just wanna make sure you're alright."

The words sound good, so Buck drifts on them. He concentrates on breathing, on not passing out because he doesn’t think Eddie’ll be happy if he does. There’s a scuffing noise and then oh. “Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie’s got blood on one side of his face, a gash over his eye and nose, but he’s got his hands on Buck’s face. “I’m here.”

It’s a lot; Eddie’s fingers are soft, the worry on his face too much and Buck finds himself sobbing, clinging to Eddie. His side throbs, every small movement a wrench on his stomach. 

“I’m here,” Eddie says again, a hand in Buck’s hair, his eyes running over Buck. 

“I do know why I said those things,” Buck whispers, needs to get the words out. His vision is starting to grey and he doesn’t want to leave Eddie alone. “I wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to hurt like me.” 

Eddie looks surprised, brows drawn together. His lips part, as if he’s going to say something, and then he shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he says, pressing his lips to Buck’s forehead. “We can talk about it if you want, but we don’t need to. I know you, Buck. I know you’re hurting. I just wish you’d found an easier way to tell me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Buck sobs. 

“I know, Buck, I know.” Eddie’s hand is soft in his hair and Buck drifts. There’s a sharp sting on his scalp. “Stay with me, alright? Talk to me.”

Buck opens his mouth, closes it. When he speaks, the words aren’t ones he wants to fall between them. “I want you to love me like you love her."

There’s silence. Well, there’s silence between then. Buck can hear yells and noises, indistinct from above and around them; their crew, coming to get them. He blinks slowly, hand reaching for Eddie. Eddie takes it blindly, but he immediately focuses on Buck. 

“There’s not even a contest,” he says, and he sounds hoarse, scared. 

Buck doesn’t know what to do. “Eddie—”

“I don’t love her,” Eddie says, fast, as if he’s scared he’s not going to be able to. Buck wants to tell him it’s alright, he understands, but Eddie drops a glove, gets his warm, long fingers on Buck’s face. He holds his chin, taps lightly with his forefinger and Buck struggles to focus. “Buck, I don’t love her. We’ve been on dates but I know—I don’t know why I’m saying this, I should just—I love you, Buck, you hear me?”

“It’s okay,” Buck says. He wants to reassure Eddie that it’s okay, that Buck’s okay with it, when the words register. “What.”

Eddie’s smile is soft, tinged with fear and sadness, but he leans down, kissing Buck softly. “I love you, so you stay awake for me, yeah? I wanna talk to you later.”

Buck doesn’t know what to say. He thinks he’s crying, can feel Eddie’s fingers move to his cheek, brushing them away. “I don’t feel so good.”

“i know,” Eddie says, and he leans in, touches their foreheads together. “I’m here, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

Nodding, Buck lets his lips linger against Eddie’s and tries to hang on. 

— — — — — —

This time, Buck comes back to consciousness slowly. 

There’s a dull ache in his side and stomach this time, something warm weighing him down. Opening one eye slowly, Buck keeps it half-lidded, stunned by the light. He’s in hospital, which doesn’t surprise him. Neither does Eddie, half asleep on top of Buck. 

Buck smiles, lifts a hand to Eddie’s head. “Hi.”

Eddie snaps up, blinking away sleep and immediately lets out a breath. His smile is slow but bright. “You gotta stop ending up here.”

“I said we should leave,” Buck protests. Not my fault your heavy ass takes forever to move—”

Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth, gentle, and raises an eyebrow. “Don’t pretend you hate my ass.”

Licking at Eddie’s palm, Buck laughs when Eddie makes a disgusting face, pulling back and wiping his hand on the bedsheets. Buck stares at him, at the still-fresh gash across his eye. “Is it gonna scar?”

Frowning, Eddie pauses, then touches a self-conscious hand to his face. “It was deep,” he admits. “They’re not sure.”

Probably, then. Buck touches a hand to Eddie’s face, thumb hovering above the scar. “You’ll still look hot.”

Eddie licks at his bottom lip, heat in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“You always have,” Buck admits quietly. 

It doesn’t take much prompting for Eddie to lean in, kiss Buck softly. His fingers are on Buck’s jaw, sliding down to his pulse point. “I’m sorry.”

Buck shakes his head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I thought you needed time,” Eddie admits. “I wasn’t leading Ana on but—Bobby said I should move on,” he explains quietly, eyes dropping to the bedsheets. “You weren’t, everything had happened with your parents and I wasn’t sure you’d ever be ready for me.”

“Eddie,” Buck says quietly, a hand in Eddie’s hair. “Look at me?”

Slowly, Eddie lifts his gaze, and Buck knows there’s a lot they need to talk about, a lot they need to go through, but right now, he just wants to be. 

“I’m ready.”

— — — — — — — —

“Is Chris home?” Buck asks. He’s leaning against Eddie, Eddie’s arm around his waist as they walk up the drive. 

Eddie nods, grabbing the keys from his pocket. He helps Buck up the step and his hand slips down to Buck’s waist as he opens the door. “Yeah. I knew you’d wanna see him.”

Buck doesn’t think he can love Eddie more. The words are right on the tip of his tongue, it would be so easy if they slipped out. 

“Bucky!”

Christopher is careful when he hugs Buck, and Eddie drifts away, probably to get things settled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m getting there,” Buck says gently. He kisses the top of Chris’ head and then Eddie’s back, arm at the base of Buck’s spine. 

“Come on,” Eddie says. He’s careful of the padding on Buck’s hip, his stomach, where the lingering wounds are protected. Eddie takes him to the bedroom and Buck’s breath hitches when he sees the pillows stacked up, the comfortable place Eddie’s carved for him in the bed. 

“Eddie,” he says, hates how easily he’s been crying lately. 

Eddie laughs gently, but it’s not cruel. He wipes at Buck’s face, kisses him. “Come on, in the bed.”

They manage to get him situated in the middle of the bed, Eddie on his left side, Chris on the right. Eddie’s got a small TV in the room, courtesy of Buck trying to make Eddie’s bedroom look lived in, and he turns it on, giving Buck a look. 

“Disney?” Buck asks Chris. 

Chris nods, and they argue good-naturedly over the movie until they settle on one. Eddie’s got snacks and drinks, and when they’re all settled, he moves closer, helping Buck lean against him. Buck wants more; he slides and moves, wincing the few times he pulls on his stomach, but groans when he finds the perfect position, tucked under Eddie’s chin. 

It’s easy to relax; Chris keeps up a steady stream of chatter, pressed up against Buck’s right side. Eddie’s warm around him, arm over his shoulders, lips against his head, fingers rubbing down Buck’s spine. Buck drifts in a doze, comfortable and warm, the sounds sending him further into sleep. 

— — — — — —

Chris kisses Buck’s shoulder and climbs out of bed, trying to be careful, and looks at Eddie. “Will you say goodnight?" 

Eddie nods. "Go get ready for bed, I'll be in soon."

Chris makes his way out of the bedroom. Eddie smiles, running a hand through Buck's hair, down the nape of his neck. "Buck?" 

Buck barely twitches. He's dead to the world, hand curled in Eddie's shirt, breathing even against Eddie's collarbone. Gently, Eddie tries to extricate himself from Buck, but as he gets Buck situated on the pillow, he groans, eyes opening slowly. "Eddie?" 

"Just saying goodnight to Chris," Eddie tells him. He kisses him gently, thumb rubbing over his cheek. "I'll be right back." 

Buck looks upset and Eddie's heart breaks. Frowning, Buck reaches for him. "Where you going?" 

"To Chris," Eddie says again, tries to make Buck understand. "It's bedtime." 

Abruptly Buck's face changes and he blinks, stares to the other side of the bed. "I fell asleep?" 

"Yeah," Eddie says, then rests a hand on Buck's shoulder when he tries to move. "Stay put. Chris says you can hug him extra hard in the morning." 

Buck still looks petulant but he nods, finally lets Eddie go. "Come back?" 

"Soon," Eddie promises.

— — — — — — —

Buck feels cold when Eddie leaves the room, but he shifts onto his right side, groaning as he stretches out. He still aches, can feel pain starting to creep into his awareness and he knows he needs to take some meds. 

Move. He needs to move. Roll out of bed maybe, he can say goodnight to Chris and—

There’s a hand back in his hair, Eddie’s lips against the skin beneath his ear, his jaw. “Sit up for me?”

“M’kay,” Buck says, still half-asleep, but lets Eddie help him sit up. There’s a glass of water and some painkillers in Eddie’s hands and Buck lets out a sob. “You’re amazing.”

Eddie laughs gently, waits for Buck to take the meds and finish half the water. He rests it on the dresser and it takes Buck a moment to realise Eddie’s changed for bed. 

“I fell asleep?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “You need to shower?”

“Brush my teeth,” Buck says with a groan, grateful when Eddie helps him up. He thinks he might get used to it, leaning against Eddie, hearing Eddie’s soft murmurs. 

It’s not until they’re climbing into bed, Buck finding a position that’s comfortable, and Eddie wraps around him, Buck’s ear to Eddie’s chest. 

“I love you,” Buck says quietly, rubbing a hand over Eddie’s chest. 

There’s a smile in Eddie’s voice as he whispers, “I love you too.”

Buck drifts off to sleep, safe in the circle of Eddie’s arms. 

#buddie fic #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fic #fic by me #otp: i forgive you #lorna is my queen #here you go babe! #capseycartwright

[diazbuckleys]

always looking for ways to love you

post 4.13, comfort and confessions

wc: 1800

Eddie can tell he's lying in a hospital cot before he even opens his eyes. He knows the scent of it by heart; that stark smell of Purell, body odor, and death, so strong it burns his nostrils. And then, the feel of starched sheets against his fingers. That terrible, burning pain, ripping through his right shoulder.

"Edmundo," a soft voice says, and Eddie opens his eyes.

It's Ana. Of course it is. No one else ever calls him by his birth name. There's something comforting in the way she says it, but it's also painfully familiar. He can still hear his father's voice ringing in his ears when he had told his parents about his plan to leave their hometown with Chris in tow. Edmundo, don't do this. You're making a terrible mistake.

He opens his eyes, and he really looks at her. And he feels that sharp, shameful stab of disappointment. She really is very beautiful.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she says, and Eddie realizes she's been crying. "God-I really wondered for a moment whether you were going to wake up."

“Yeah," Eddie manages, his voice coming out in a weak croak that he's too exhausted to care about. "Yeah, I'm still here."

She squeezes his hand, where her thin fingers are threaded through his.

He sits up suddenly, blinking away the sleep and the heavy pain in his shoulder. "Is Chris...?"

"Asleep. Carla took him home a few hours ago. He wanted to stay, but, you know. It's getting late."

"Oh. Thank you." He looks around the room. It's sparse and dreary like they always are, with only a pair of plastic cushioned chairs in the corner and one large window with the blinds drawn. He wonders what time it is, how long it's been since the accident.

Slowly, inevitably, Eddie's mind starts drifting to Buck. He remembers pieces of the attack; Buck being tackled by Captain Mehta, as people screamed and ducked for cover all around them. In retrospect, Buck had probably laid on the ground across from him for only a few minutes. But in the moment it had felt like time had slowed. It had felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Ana seems to notice his distraction, and squeezes his hand again. "I let a nurse know you were awake. She should be over in a few minutes."

He smiles at her, feeling another piece of that piercing guilt. A part of Eddie wishes he could love her in the way he should. But he can't; he knows that now.

"Thank you, Ana. I'm glad you're here."

She looks at him questioningly. Despite everything, she has always been good at telling when something is wrong. "But?"

Eddie thinks about Buck on the ground, staring at Eddie soundlessly as blood dripped from his face and onto his clean white shirt. Eddie thinks about reaching out to him in the final moments before his eyes slipped shut, thinking I'm going to die, and he'll never know how I feel, or about any of it. But Eddie's alive, and so is Buck.

"But-I can't do this. I think you know that."

Ana, sweet Ana Flores, lets go of his hand with a sad smile. She sighs, like she's coming to terms with something she had tried to forget.

Finally, she says; "Yes, Edmundo. I know."

Eddie reaches for her hand again, soft and warm, and holds onto it tightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want-I didn't mean for it to happen this way.

Ana gives him that sad smile again. "Oh, Eddie. You can't choose where your heart goes. It hurts, but I'm just sorry I didn't realize it sooner."

Eddie frowns. His head is still pounding, and every part of him wants to fall back into the comforts of sleep. Instead, he props himself up on his elbows and blinks his eyes open. "Realize what?"

"That you already have a family. You have Chris. You have Buck."

It's the first time either of them have acknowledged it out loud, and Eddie swallows a lump in his throat.

"A family?

She lets go of his hand, carefully. “Do me a favor, Eddie? Don't mess it up. For my sake."

"I won't," Eddie says, throat stuck with emotion. But there's one more thing he has to ask. "And, um. Is he here?"

Ana frowns. "I'm sorry. They're all still trying to track down whoever it was that attacked you."

Eddie's face falls, and he lets himself collapse back into the sheets. If Buck is out there with the shooter- even the thought makes Eddie's chest constrict.

"Edmundo," Ana says, tone surprisingly firm, "he's going to be okay."

Eddie nods. Of course he is. It's Buck. He has to be.

"I'm really glad you're here," he says again, grateful.

"Good luck, Eddie Diaz," she says in lieu of a response, and smiles at him before she goes, like she really, really means it.

*******

At some point after a smiling nurse enters the room, checks his vitals, and declares him "in recovery", Eddie falls asleep again. He dreams about blood spilling on the open road, the St. Christopher pendant clattering against the pavement as he fell. Buck's blue eyes, wide with terror, staring, staring, staring.

*******

And then, some indeterminable number of hours later, he's awake again. This time, the sound that drags him to the surface of consciousness isn't a voice, but the steady beat of the hospital machinery. A sign that he's still here, breathing, despite everything.

Someone else is holding his hand. Eddie feels the strong, calloused fingers gripping him tightly, and he almost wants to sob. He's okay. He came back to me.

"Hey there," Buck says, and a thousand pounds of grief and worry lift from Eddie's shoulders.

"Hi," Eddie says, and cracks a sleepy smile up at Buck. Evan Buckley, Firefighter, friend, the fucking love of Eddie's life.

Eddie blinks a little in the harsh light. “What time is it? What day is it?"

Buck leans down to check his watch, and Eddie wonders distantly where it came from, or if he had just never noticed it before. He thinks that maybe becoming more observant is something he should work on. "11:27 PM, Tuesday. Three days since you were shot."

"And the shooter?" Eddie presses. "Did you find him?"

Buck shakes his head, still clutching tightly to Eddie's hand. "Nope, still on the lookout. But Cap thought it was more important that I be here."

Eddie feels a little lightheaded and dizzy at the words. Buck's here, real and breathing in front of him. Holding his hand.

He looks terrible, Eddie notices. His eyes are bloodshot, dark circles resting underneath them. His hair is a blond, tangled mess, and his tee shirt has a coffee stain around the collar. Eddie thinks suddenly about how truly awful the shooting must have been for Buck. He wonders if he was able to get all of the blood out of his shirt.

"I brought Christopher with me," Buck says when Eddie doesn't speak. "He and Carla are both passed out in the hallway."

Eddie sighs. "Thanks, Buck. I hate for him to see me like this."

Buck nods, and strokes his thumb over the back of Eddie's hand, in a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. He looks like he's trying to gather the courage to say something.

"Look, man," Buck starts abruptly, "I'm sorry. I should have done better."

It takes everything within Eddie not to take hold of Buck by the shoulders and shake him.

"Buck. Stop it, seriously. You did everything right."

"No, Eddie. Let me just-"

Fuck. Buck's voice is breaking. Eddie can't even remember the last time he saw him cry.

"I'm fucking sorry, man. I saw you get shot, and I just couldn't move. It was like I was frozen, watching the bullet hit you, watching you fall. And later I kept thinking about Chris, and how terrible it would have been if we-if he had lost you. Telling him what happened, after you got hurt, when we didn't know if you were going to make it-that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. He kept on just looking at me, and fuck. I had to tell him that-and I didn't know-"

Buck's crying. Full on crying, and all Eddie can do is stare.

"Um." Buck says a moment later, clearing his throat with an embarrassed flush, and wiping furiously at his eyes. "Anyway. Sorry. You deserve better, and I just-"

"Evan Buckley," Eddie says with conviction, and that shuts Buck up.

"I don't know what it will take for me to get this through your head, but you are not a disappointment. You didn't do anything wrong. I have no fucking idea what I'd do without you, actually. So please, don't try to tell me you're not good enough for me, or that you should have done better. Because you are good enough. You are. Okay?"

"Okay," Buck says, and then they're quiet. The clock over the doorway ticks slowly. Outside, the overcast sky has started to rain.

Buck rubs one hand over his tired eyes. "I just care about you, so much, Eddie. And the fact that there was even a possibility I wasn't going to get to see you again, and laugh at your stupid jokes and eat your terrible dinners-I couldn't take it."

And, goddamnit, Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever loved anyone like he loves Buck.

"I'm sorry too, that I made you worry. But I'm still here."

Buck smiles. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

"Shut up," Eddie retorts, laughing, "you love me."

Buck stills at that, fidgeting with Eddie's hand, but refuses to meet him in the eye.

"You know," Eddie says slowly, suddenly feeling brave, "Carla said something to me the other day, about following my heart. And then Ana was in here earlier, and I, uh. Ended things."

Buck sits up straight at that. "You broke up with her? Why?"

"Because," Eddie says. "Because-"

Buck kisses him. They're only sitting inches away from each other, but it feels like Buck's bridged a gap. Reached across a mountainous valley and pulled Eddie over to the other side.

Buck's lips taste like salt, and Eddie realizes one of them must be crying but he isn't sure who. They're both smiling, even if there are tears, too. It's sort of the most perfect thing Eddie has ever experienced.

Buck kisses him, and it feels like everything has fallen into place.

Eddie doesn't want to pull away, but he does anyway. He was just shot, after all, and already he’s feeling dizzy. He imagines there will be plenty more kisses in their future, ones that don't take place in stiff hospital beds. He hopes so, anyway.

"I love you, you know," Eddie says when he catches his breath. He feels like he's fifteen and he's just kissed a girl outside of their school gymnasium. He already wants to kiss Buck again.

Buck grins. "God, I love you too. But, Eds, please do me a favor."

"Yeah?”

"Try not to get shot again."

#HERE IT IS BABES #ROUGH BUT I HAD TO GET IT OUT #was i too nice to ana here? #maybe #but she’s pretty #911 #buddie #buck x eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #ana flores

[holycafe]

Preview for Just Friends ch23

Hey @legendarilymessedup you said you were after something to cheer you up, so I hope this helps <3 and I hope your night gets better.

And for anyone who hasn’t read the first 22 chapters and wants to give it a go, you can find the fic here on AO3. It’s a fake-dating slowburn fic where Barry doesn’t realise he’s actually in a fake relationship. Lots of shenanigans.

.

Len felt like he was dreaming.

He had Barry in his arms; finally, after hours of worrying, Barry was safe. That alone would have been enough to make him smile. Even if Barry had shot Len down, broke off their real-fake-relationship, and crushed Len’s heart, he still would have been happy to get Barry back home to his team, safe and sound.

But none of that happened.

Instead…

Instead, Barry loved him.

Those three words swam around and around in Len’s head, playing on repeat and blocking out everything else.

Barry was kissing him, and Barry loved him.

“–Err… Snart?–” Iris’ voice said through the comms in his ear, and Len groaned in annoyance as he broke the kiss. “–Hate to break up the party, but I can’t keep Eddie hanging around outside forever–” Barry looked confused – and extremely cute, even covered in mud as he was and sporting a serious split lip and bruised jaw – by Len suddenly pulling away. So, Leonard shook his head, pressing a reassuring kiss to Barry’s cheek and gesturing towards the earpiece. Cisco’s comms unit was about as covert as they came, so Len knew Barry couldn’t see it. But he understood anyway, nodding and taking a step back out of Len’s arms.

For a moment, Len began to panic that the kid was going to freak out again. Kissing Len in front of the Rogues was one thing, but doing it while Team Flash was listening in was an altogether different matter. It didn’t make a difference to Len, of course… but it surely would to the Scarlet Speedster.

Len tensed, preparing himself as he expected Barry to pull away and leave again…

But Barry just stooped down to the floor and picked Len’s cane up. When he stood back up again to pass it over, he was smiling; his green eyes shining happily beneath the mud, and blood, and bruises covering his delicate skin.

Len kissed him once more, grinning while Barry laughed against his lips.

“Get a room, would you?” Scudder muttered, having roused again after the fight. Rosa had been awake for a while, sullenly silent. However, Len was only paying them the bare minimum of attention, trusting Lisa and Mick to keep their enemies under control. Which was exactly what Lisa did, kicking Sam sharply in the shin until he grunted and shut up.

“–Seriously, Snart!–” Iris said, impatient. “–Eddie doesn’t know about the two of you, and I don’t think Barry would want him to find out by him just accidentally walking in on you guys mid-make out–”

Len groaned again and pulled away from Barry once more.

“Fine,” he drawled, his fingers brushing against Barry’s as he finally accepted the offered cane. “Send Eddie in.” Barry straightened up a little bit at the drop of the detective’s name, looking a little nervous. He cast a look over his shoulder and then seemed to altogether freeze.

Len attempted to follow Barry’s line of sight, trying to figure out what was wrong before it could bite them in the ass… but there appeared to be nothing there. The area of the room that Barry was running his eyes over was completely empty.

But then, that was apparently the problem.

“Where’s Shawna?” Barry asked, sounding worried enough that it made the hairs on the back of Len’s neck rise.

Mick shrugged before grunting out an answer. “She and Mardon poofed out of here while you ‘n’ Snart were playing tonsil hockey.” He paused for only a moment before grumpily adding: “Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

“Oh, crap,” Barry muttered quietly under his breath. Len wanted to ask what was wrong, wanted to raise his hand to cup Barry’s face and force him to make eye contact again, wanted to hold him and assure him that – whatever it was – they could get through it. Together.

But then Eddie Thawne entered the room, cautiously with his gun drawn but not aimed. Len waited and watched as the detective gave Barry a smile and a pat on the shoulder – his hand coming away covered in mud from Barry’s clothes, making Len look down at himself, realising that he too was coated in the stuff now. He supposed he could come up with something to explain that away though if he needed to.

Eddie moved to arrest Barry’s kidnappers, keeping a cautious birth from Mick who was still non-too-happy to be working with a pig… not that Len blamed him. And while the detective’s back was turned, Len quickly holstered his cold gun and used his now-spare hand to lead Barry out of the room.

Or maybe ‘to be led by Barry out of the room’ would be a more accurate description. Because, although Len gave the first subtle nudge towards the door, it was Barry who ended up offering Len a shoulder to – literally – lean on as they walked. Because now that the adrenaline of the fight was wearing down, his injured thigh was beginning to burn with a white-hot fury again from overuse. Len gritted his teeth as he limped away from the scene, putting far too much weight on his cane, and possibly squeezing just a little too harshly on Barry’s shoulder. And, Christ, Len wished that he could focus on that. He wished that he could lose himself in the moment and revel in the closeness of Barry’s body and the intimacy that they were finally sharing after all these months of being so completely oblivious to their feelings for one another.

But the look in Barry’s eye and the worried set to his bruised and bloodied lips reminded Len that nothing was ever that simple. Not for him.

Once they were outside in the fresh air, Barry took a deep breath and sighed up at the grey clouds above while Len took the comms piece out of his ear, wanting some privacy.

“What’s going on?” he asked, and Barry’s shoulders drooped as he turned to face Leonard.

“Shawna nearly got shot,” Barry explained, and Len nodded. He’d seen Sam fire the gun at her, but he’d also seen her get out of the way as the bullet drove straight into the wall behind them. He didn’t understand what was wrong here, but Barry’s anxiety only seemed to have grown. “I had to use my powers to save her.”

Ah.

‘Oh, crap’ was right.

“I’ll talk to her,” Barry quickly reassured him, and Len nodded. He was going to offer his company, but he could already see the answer to that question in Barry’s eyes. This was something that he felt like he needed to do alone, and Len could understand that. He knew that he wasn’t the most welcoming of people; he was often cold, and people could find it difficult to talk freely while he was around. Barry would have a much easier time talking to Shawna and Mark if Len wasn’t there.

Len could understand that, but he didn’t have to like it.

“Wear something Cisco can track,” he said. After all, Len had only just got Barry back, he didn’t want to lose him again. Not now. Not ever.

Barry smiled and nodded and looked like he was about to go in for another kiss. But then the door behind them opened again. Barry just about managed to stop himself before it was too late as Eddie Thawne walked out, leading the now-handcuffed Rosa Dillon and Sam Scudder towards his police cruiser. Len tensed his jaw in annoyance, wishing that they could just stop getting interrupted already.

“You’re pouting,” Barry laughed, and Len mustered up a glare. But they both knew there was no real ice behind it.

Barry’s grin softened around the edges as they stared into each other’s eyes. He still looked as though he wanted to lean in for a kiss. But, instead, he reached out and casually adjusted the hood on Len’s parka, his fingertips brushing softly against the skin on Len’s bare neck.

“I have so much I need to tell you,” he said, his voice so soft-spoken and yet so raw. Len yearned to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand, to kiss his cheek. But he couldn’t. They were already pushing their luck here with the gentle way that Barry was fixing his coat, and Len knew that anything more would surely give away their game to Detective Thawne.

This wasn’t exactly the first time that Len had needed to resist the urge to touch Barry. Yet, somehow, the weight of their physical separation felt heavier now that he knew Barry loved him back. Now that he knew the desire to hold and be held was mutual.

Len stared across into Barry’s beautiful green eyes, marvelling at how gorgeous he was. Even coated in mud – which Len would really need to get the story behind later – and bruises and his slowly-healing split lip… he was beautiful. Len wondered how he’d ever got so lucky as for Barry Allen to fall in love with him. And it was lucky. No matter how much heartbreak Len had felt this past few days, it was all worth it to just be able to look into Barry’s eyes and have him look back as though Len was his whole world.

Barry bit nervously against his bottom lip and then winced as the movement reminded him of the cut that he was still sporting there. Len raised his hand instantly to Barry’s face wanting to soothe his discomfort away. But he had to stop himself before he could cup Barry’s jaw and run his thumb along Barry’s lip. His hand uselessly hovered there for a moment, inches away from Barry’s face, before Len balled it back into a soft fist and dropped to his side once more.

“Oh, fuck it,” Barry breathed out, Len’s only warning before he stepped forward that last few inches and collided their mouths together again. Barry was holding on tighter to the fur of Len’s parka now, using it to pull Len forward even though there was no more ‘forward’ for Len to go.

Len wrapped his arm around Barry’s waist and buried his fingers into the back of his shirt, not even caring that the thick layer of mud there was still very much damp. Len couldn’t care less that he was getting covered in mud, not so long as Barry was the one behind it. Barry’s tongue skirted against Len’s, pushing and taking and driving him insane. Len chased the kiss, holding on for as long as he possibly could.

But eventually, they both had to come back up for air. And when that moment came, Len closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together, and did everything he possibly could to pretend that they were alone.

Another moment passed before Barry pulled away from Len’s touch and turned to face the music. Len followed Barry’s gaze, and their movement was enough to catch Detective Thawne’s attention. He had been leaning against the hood of his police cruiser, appearing as though he was doing his best not to pry on Barry’s moment with Len while he attempted to get a meaningful conversation out of Mick. Len didn’t have to imagine how that endeavour was going.

But now that Barry and Len had pulled apart again, Thawne stood up straight and gave Barry a reassuring smile.

Barry was definitely relieved to see Eddie wasn’t looking overtly angry or uncomfortable about their latest act of PDA. And Barry’s happiness made Len happy in return. Barry looked back up to Len and smiled nervously.

“Could I borrow your bike?” he asked. “I really don’t think I should wait much longer before I track down Shawna, but I can’t exactly go running off right now.”

“You can, actually,” Len corrected. “Mick and Lisa already know you’re the Flash.” Expectedly, Barry frowned at that, so Len shrugged. “Ask Cisco about it.” Because Len couldn’t have answered any questions about it if he’d wanted to. He was still very muggy on those particular details.

“Oh, okay,” Barry nodded, taking the revelation in stride. “I… uh… I’ll see you tonight?” he asked, sounding hopeful in a way that made Len’s stomach do little happy flips.

“I hope so.”

Barry nodded again, looking as though he was going to step away. But at the last second, he leant back in and pressed a sweet kiss on Len’s cheek. Then Barry backed up, heading towards the where the bikes were parked. The second that he was out of sight of the police cruiser and the criminals handcuffed inside, he slipped into superspeed and ran away.

#i don't think many of my coldflash readers still follow me #so this probably only to get like 2 notes i guess #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #coldflash #leonard snart #barry allen #dc #len x barry

[trashdeviant]

Chapter 1

Venom/Eddie x Reader

Tw: cussing, violence

Another round clocks you in the jaw; the rebound keeping you from darting out of the way of the following blow. The crowd roars in suspense, but not loud enough to drown out the pumping of your heart beating in your ears. You shake your head at the bleat of a bell that signals the end of this round before your opponent could crack your skull open. Bloodied spit shoots out the side of your mouth as you return to your corner.

“Get to your corner!” The referee waves his arm dismissively at the mass glaring you down.

You had plenty of bulk, but they looked like a mountain compared to you. There was a split in your eyebrow you hadn’t noticed before. Cold hands shove a bottle of water into yours. The condensation wets your palms and drips down your face as you desperately down the freezing beverage in an attempt to cool yourself off. There’s another split down the middle of your bottom lips. The stinging only amplified your adrenaline.

You hadn’t realized your brother had been talking to you until he lightly smacks the side of your head. You turn to him, almost dazed.

“Look, boss, it ain’t even that much! When they take you down, just stay down. You hear me? Aye! Aye, boss!” That wasn’t what you were looking to hear. You had already turned back to the middle of the ring. He sounds his frustration behind you before he snatches the empty bottle out of the way.

You finally begin to control your breathing when the bell rings once more. The both of you raise fists and circle each other. Your hands shoot out to reach for them as you lunge hesitantly. Just as you had predicted they were quick to react to your flawed grapple. As they tangle with you-their arms over yours-you raise your knee to push them back. Your hands gripped on the back of their neck with a vice as you rinse and repeat. You can feel them struggle against your grip as you give their nose one last thrust of your knee before you let them push you back.

A shot that lucky wont come as easily next time. You put your hands back up and await their retaliation. The light almost blinds you as they swing at you. Their ponytail flicks at your face as you dodge and pass them. Their other arm swings behind them and catches you on the cheek. Hard.

That was going to leave one hell of a bruise. They quickly come back with another wild swing and all you can do is block your face as they begin to corner you. You could barely hear the voice behind you scream your name to go down. They take the advantage to connect their fist to your stomach. It almost encourages you to double over, but you hold your breath. It was all or nothing.

You surprise them with a swing of your own. Despite their heat unrelenting you manage to find an opening. Suddenly your positions were reversed. Your blood pumping and your fists flaring, you kept your pattern. ‘Boom-boom-Pop!’ you kept repeating to yourself. A mental montra you drilled into your head for years. They were beginning to grow tired if their curling figure was of any indication. You managed one last uppercut that sends them spiraling to the ground as the bell signals your victory. Dopamine never felt so good. You take in the moment as you watch your opponent tire out on the ground and listen to the audience both cheer for you and scream in disagreement. You could see your brother lose it in the crowd...

“You stubborn ass-”

“Shut up and give me my winnings, Raffie.” He only scoffs and slaps a hefty wad into your palm. You smile to yourself as you feel it and quickly count out a good amount and then some.

Rafael cackles at your pleased expression, “Heh, feel that? Legit thought you were done for. You already looked dead tired.”

“Ha, when you fight someone like that–you can’t get tired.” you joked dryly as you two swayed into the night outside of the building. Adjusting your hoodie you feel him playfully punch at your shoulder. “For real though,” he looks at you casually, “you should learn when to fuckin’ quit. Each fight so far has been bigger than the last one.”

You could only squint at him, your lips tugged in a smirk, “Aren’t you the one getting me these g-”

“Shh!” He smiles a little, embarrassed, and pushes at you. You retaliate by ruffling his curly hair and laugh along with him.

Nights after a fight were usually like this. You, being pretty banged up, and your brother pretending he’s stern when he tells you to be careful. It was refreshing. Although he wasn’t blood related. You two had met in highschool when you were quite the handful. You felt a little guilty dragging him into this kind of business, but he insisted. It paid plenty for rent and although you could never find yourself getting used to the nausea it came with, you somehow enjoyed fighting.

“Damn, boss,” a nickname that manifested easily with your attitude, “Want to go buy some ice for that real quick?”

You were out of ice, but would rather be planting face-first into your mattress right about now, “Nah, pretty sure we got some peas in the freezer.” It was incredibly dark out and the fact that he could see the redness beginning to swell, it spiked a bit of your insecurity. You shook it off and made it to your apartment complex.

Entering your room felt like ecstasy for the soul. Rafael had already passed you to grab the peas as you toed off your shoes and got comfortable on the couch. That meant sweats and no top. You hold your hand out as a chilled bag is placed in your grasp from behind you. After wrapping it with your hoodie you gently place it against your cheek, wincing in discomfort. Raf is kind enough to turn the TV on for you as you put your legs up on half of the couch with your feet tucked under a blanket. Your kin just about to make himself comfortable-

You give your brother a pitiful look, “Raffie can you go microwave me some pizza?”

He sighs and hangs his head before lazily dragging himself to the fridge. A smirk tugs at your lips again, “Aye, why are you tired? I’m the one fighting!” An exaggerated groan is your only response. You chuckle at the fact that he wouldn’t dare deny your right to leftover pizza before you return your attention to the screen.

“-Four bodies were found in an alley. The heads have yet to be discovered as this appears to be yet another victim of the Demon of San Francisco, Ven-”

“Bah…” You flicked through the channels before landing on some wildly inappropriate cartoon.

Venom made both you and your brother nervous. It didn’t take a genius to see the pattern he had. He searched for those who do bad deeds. To some goody-two-shoes it would appear that he had it out for just anyone, but you knew those who were actually in danger. You feared that you were one of them with how you and your brother were involved in an underground fight club. The only hope you both clinged to was the fact that gambling was harmless. Mostly.

The scent of cheesy jalapenos and meat wafted your senses and successfully interrupted your thoughts. You greedily take a bite simultaneously with Raf. You were full of regret one minute in. Your busted lip was searing! You muffle a complaint before dropping the peas and booking it to the sink to cool off your lip.

You whine as you could hear Raf laugh at you from the living room. Your middle finger flashes him before you rush to the fridge to drown your mouth in milk straight from the gallon.

He was almost hysterical, “No hay vaso!?”

Your eyes roll as you finally cool down. Once you return and push your plate towards him you notice something. Both plates only had one pizza. He usually ate two. That bastard.

“You-”, you smack him upside the head. Your glare could turn a man to stone. Unfortunately, he only seemed to laugh in the face of death.

You make a dramatic show of retreating to your room as he eats. Living with him taught you that he would make it up to you in the morning so you weren’t terribly pissed off.

The moment your face hits the pillow, sleep cushions your fall...

Sweat beads down your throat. You were at the height of your capabilities and it felt victorious. Your audience chanting your name and your opposer struggling to get back up. There wasn’t a scratch on you either. This high was absolutely addicting and you couldn’t help yourself. You leaned against the ropes and rose to boast and flex-the crowd going wild. Just as you were asking for more out of the audience there was a gut wrenching pull that brought you back to the middle of the stage.

The lights were suddenly blinding and your opponent looked more fierce than usual. Eyes dark and mouth seething. There was a thin layer muffling the sound of the crowd. Something wasn’t right…

Everything was warped and the corners of your vision were dark. Despite everything feeling slower, your heart was panicking. You duck when the hulking silhouette swings at you and immediately put your fists up, trying to keep your head in the game-or keep your head in general.

It was more of a game of cat and mouse. You kept focusing on dodging and keeping a distance. There was no way in hell you were going to get them beneath you. It was almost like they were growing by the second. You shook your head and tried at throwing a punch at their stomach. Now something definitely wasn’t right. Your arms felt heavy with each hit. It was suffocating and felt like you were being drawn in.

Your opponent had made zero effort to block your punches. The crowd was still muffled, but grew louder. Things were getting darker and darker. The figure in front of you began to grow just as dark before you saw nothing but the white of its eyes as they morphed into something else. It narrowed at you and all you could do was watch as its stomach engulfed your fist.

Something was opening and suddenly there was pain in your stomach that felt closer to the ache of fear. You were being pulled into what felt like your death. Your breathing all but disappeared and your heart was a screaming mess. This was it-this was your last fight-nowhere to run-

Your name brings you crashing to the surface. You’re damn near hyperventilating, but you were just thankful to be able to breathe again. Everything was still dark, but you slowly recognized it as your room.

“Y-you’re in your room, boss-it’s me Rafael...”

You turned to Raf holding his aching nose with one hand while the other was held out to you defensively. He watched your eyes dart left and right as you took your time to calm down. Your body was shaking and sticky from sweat.

“A nightmare…” He tried his best to bring you back from those. You shook your head and grabbed his hand to anchor yourself. “I’m sorry.”, it was what you could muster for now. Apparently your mouth sounded as dry as it felt considering Raf released a hand from his undamaged nose to pass you his half empty bottle of water.

Finishing the bottle, you toss it randomly in the distance. Raf was always awkward at this point and it showed.

“Hungry?” your head motioned ‘no’.

“...TV?” You take a moment, but decide you would rather watch something than try to go back to sleep.

With that he grabs some pain meds from the nightstand and another water bottle before he walks you to the living room to cuddle and enjoy a show or two.

Unfortunately he passes out in the middle of an episode, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain. Quietly, you shimmy out from his tight hold and make your way to the bathroom.

Your sticky body makes you grimace. With how tired you were it was almost a challenge to get everything off. Regardless you make it to the valve of the shower and trigger the showerhead. Heated water pours out and you carefully step in. You relished in the heat and almost doze off. But you got busy and cleansed yourself of your stench.

Half an hour later you were out and drying yourself off before putting on fresh clothing. Something casual considering it was already morning. You throw on some underwear, pants, a nerdy shirt, and your hoodie. Hiding your bruise was the least of your worries. People seemed to mind their own business whether or not you actually hid anything. You decided you would go out and grab some ice to kill time since you weren’t heading back to sleep anytime soon. Dressed and out the door, you put on some tunes on your phone. You tuck your earbuds into your ears and leave the building; heading to a nearby convenience store. The back of your mind is hopeful that Raf rubs your shoulders when you get back.

There was a dangerous moment where you almost walked into a pole, but you made it. Passing through the door you made an invaulatory map of the store. A group of teenages over by the snacks and a women by the coffee makers. You almost missed the brooding man by the freezers as you made your way towards the candy aisle. You grabbed a packet of gum before making your way towards the cashier.

“What?” It was a hushed tone, but your gaze followed the whisper towards the man staring down a bag of tater tots. Suddenly he turned to look at you, but naturally you turned away, whether you were embarrassed of staring or just scared of interaction with someone so sketchy.

You continued your travels, paying for both the gum and the ice. Currently you were struggling with your hold on the ice outside of the store. You winced when you tried to carry it as you usually did. Flashes of your previous fight reminded you that you were still very sore. Sighing, you considered walking back in to ask for a big bag to carry it in.

“Need some help there?” he sounded casual and yet nervous. It was the brooding man with the tater tots. Maybe he was tired.

You couldn’t really give a fuck if he was as dangerous as he looked, at the moment, you were just happy to get some help. You would be more worried if you didn’t know how to defend yourself. “Please?” A relieved sigh left you as he picked up the bag and held it over his shoulder with ease.

“Thanks uh-”

“Eddie.”

“Eddie.”, you mimic.

“And you are...?”, something in you stirred at that, but you ignored it and answered respectively with your name.

“I don’t live too far if that helps.” The least you could do was provide a bit of conversation. You made sure to leave an earbud out so you could hear him. “It’s no problem. I don’t live far either.” You nod in acknowledgement. A small moment of silence follows persistently.

“What’s with the bruise, if you don’t mind me asking?”, his voice makes you jump lightly; not expecting him to ask that question.

Damn, you pretty much forgot about that now that it only hurt to touch. You weren’t about to tell him your nightly activities. Skillfully, you lie through your teeth, “I’m real clumsy. Vertigo acts up out of nowhere sometimes.” you throw in an embarrassed chuckle for affect. Too busy patting yourself on the back you fail to see through his smile that masked how unconvinced he really was.

You eyed the exaggerated amount of tater tots and chocolate he had bought. It didn’t really match his figure. Instead of commenting you simply dig into your pocket and retrieve your pack of gum, pulling out a strip and unwrapping it, “Gum?”, you offered.

He shrugs and lets you feed it to him. His hands were occupied anyways. You smile playfully at the gesture and his awkwardness as he thanks you.

“Anytime.” You finally turn to him as you reach the apartment complex. You mentally groan at the fact that you were about to carry the ice up the stairs to your apartment. With your hands out to him, you gesture towards the ice, “I’m not about to make you go up the stairs with that thing, but thanks for the help, Eddie.”

“It really isn’t a problem, please, I insist.” Somehow that made you smile. You didn’t argue as you would be the same way.

“Any ideas how I could thank you?” If not you could probably throw him a fake ass ‘IOU’. Or maybe just offer him some breakfast.

There was a beat of silence where he made an expression you didn’t have time to read. “You hungry?” smooth.

As if on cue there was a smell seducing the hell out of your senses. Your brother was making french toast. “Yeah, I could eat.” you chuckled, knowing he could smell it too.

You make it to your room just after that and open the door; the aroma amplifying and the sound of sizzling makes your mouth water at the thought of bacon. You hold the door out to Eddie.

“My treat?” You joked as he beamed.

“How generous.”

He set the ice into the freezer and shimmied awkwardly into the scene where he was met with a confused curly-haired man with a spatula in one hand and a plate of food in the other. He appeared to be wearing nothing but boxers and a frilly apron. You were leaning against his shoulder innocently.

“Eddie, this is my brother, Rafael, Raf, this is Eddie.” Following that introduction, you snagged the plate and handed it to Eddie before gesturing to him to sit next to you on the couch in front of the TV. He complies and for a moment or two, the silence was painful. Raf tosses you some chocolate syrup, a small salt shaker of sugar-cinnamon and whipped cream that he threw blindly in the direction of the living room. You had to be quick to catch them, but had a horrifying second in which you had to catch the chocolate syrup from the top of Eddie’s head before it could land on his plate. You sigh an apology, however, Eddie just chuckles a little, surprised and impressed.

“So is bringing home random guys going to be a thing or…?” You could tell your shit-faced brother was smirking from the kitchen as he fixes your plate. Eddie huffs in amusement behind your bickering. You were just thankful that he could break the ice-pun intended.

You debated throwing a spoon at him, “Is you wearing my things going to be a thing or…?” you fired back before gawking at the plate in front of you. He snickers, “Looks better on me.” and belatedly joins you two with a bunch of french toast in his mouth. It appears the newcomer stole his plate regardless of being capable of making another one.

“So are you going to tell us more about yourself, Eddie.” despite his muffled voice, you sensed something suspicious about his question.

Setting down the chocolate syrup he just drowned his french toast in, he clears his throat, “I’m a journalist, I write articles for the-” Rafael burps shamelessly, “Daily Globe…” Eddie smiles, obviously trying to be polite. He takes a forkful of his breakfast as Raf opens his mouth again, “Oh you’re the guy that did the Eddie Brock show, huh?”

“The Eddie Brock Report, yeah,”, he corrects, “that was me.” Another forkful just a beat later.

“Thats cool-”, you tried to offer before your brother decided to butt in again, “-Yeah real cool. Didn’t that show get cancelled?” Eddie was visibly uncomfortable and evidently irritated which struck a chord with you.

Although it seemed like Eddie had plenty to say in response to that, you slam your hand on the table to take the attention off of him, “Hey, Raffie!” You gave him a quick stare that only the two of you could decipher as ‘We’re going to have a fucking talk later’. “Mind making me some more bacon, please?”

It was more of an excuse to keep him out of the conversation for the most part. Raf rolls his eyes before taking the hint. You took the moment to pat Eddie on the shoulder apologetically. He seemed to understand the gesture as he nods in acknowledgement.

With a defeated sigh you take a break from questions, “Cool jacket.” He looks down as if he forgot he even had it on.

“Thanks. Your hoodies nice.” He was totally just being nice. Your hoodie was ancient. You didn’t comment though, “Thanks, you’re too kind.”

“I aim to please.”

“Naturally. You lift or...?” You poke at the bulk in his bicep through the aforementioned jacket.

“Oh uh yeah,” He removes his jacket to smirk and bulge his arms beneath your touch, “Working out ‘s been helping me through somethings actually.”

Snorting, you remove your hoodie to flex the muscle you were hiding beneath the fabric.

“I kind of do too… in a way.” It was almost second nature for you to try to compete.

“Oh damn-”

“Bacon’s done, boss, I’m going to take a shit-”

‘Ever so charming…’

Raf swiftly abandons the kitchen leaving a concerned Eddie with an unamused kin. You hang your head. Just as you were getting to the flow of a conversation.

“Is he going to be alright?” There was something in his voice that sounded like concern, but closer to relief. You didn’t blame him as you were just the same.

“Yeah…” You look down at his empty plate and the pile of bacon you weren’t really going to eat.

With a wavering sigh, you gesture to the bacon, “Want the rest?”

You were already grabbing the tubbawear when he answered, “Sure…”

There was a selfish part of you that didn’t want to kick him out, but you compromised by taking a sharpie and writing your number on the side of the container with a small smiley face next to a subtle ‘text me’. Once you hand it to him he glances at the message on the tubbawear before looking back at you.

“You should probably head out. I’m really sorry about Raf, but uh,” you were suddenly nervous, “I hope we can try this again sometime…”

You just met the man, but the guilt decided that you should try to make it up to him anyways. That and maybe the fact that you’ve been in a bit of a dry spell and this man certainly looked appetizing. You mentally slap yourself.

He sent his gaze towards the direction Rafael had left before returning to meet your hopeful eyes. It seemed he was throwing you a bone, “Sure, I’d love to try this again. Maybe not here though…”

“Yeah, totally uh we’ll figure something out.” wow, could you have sounded any more awkward and desperate? Regardless, there was a snarky comment here and there before you actually got him out the door. You pressed your head against the door as guilt hit you like a truck. It almost made you want to scream. You try to calm yourself down before you go say something stupid to Raf.

Look, your face? Isn’t very pretty after that last fight. You’re still a little cut up and that bruise looks like near-death! Someone actually took a little interest in you this morning. Not to mention, he didn’t look too bad! Bed head, five o'clock shadow, and all! That jawline was something nobody could miss…

You doubt he would have been so nervous if a ‘certain someone’ hadn’t been there. Raf never usually acted like this anyways.

You sigh through your nose before pulling off your shirt and pushing yourself to face your unbearable brother. The heater was on in your room and with the conversation you were about to have, you were not in the mood to feel suffocated. When you see him he is face down on the bed, brooding. With a roll of your eyes, you sit next to him and pat his back. You try to sound sweet, but it comes out a little irritated, “Raffie?”

No answer.

“Want to talk about your little break down earlier?”

A muffled protest.

You groan, “Raf stop being a little girl…”, using whatever force you could muster, you push him onto his back to look at you. Much to your displeasure, your arms were still sore so you only managed to get him on his side. If not for the soreness you could certainly bench press him. Raf blinks at you with brown-hazel eyes in what you hope is guilt.

“Raf, please tell me why you freaked out on Eddie like that?” Your voice was tired, but seemed to finally get him to speak.

“You don’t even know him…” His eyes narrow.

“And you think you do? You never even watched his show. The hell did you embarrass me like that for?”

He scoffs.

“Is this about Jessie?”

Raf answers your suspicions when he avoids your gaze. You demonstrate your disappointment in a stern voice, “Raf, that shit was a long time ago. I’ve moved on from it and you shouldn’t even-”

“Yeah and I get that you won’t change your mind-I promise I fuckin do, but-”

“Do you really ‘cause I’m tired of you bringing it up.” It was practically hissed at him.

“Alright-alright you know what? It’s whatever at this point, right? I won’t bring it up anymore, but like I’m just sayin’ I’m tired of you being stubborn n’ shit when it shouldn’t even have to be a problem! And I mean I don’t want to drag you into things you don’t want to do, but I just feel like we could be like how we were back then when we were doing crazy shit together you ‘member? I miss that! We-”

“I don’t care about that shit anymore-I’m doing my own thing, Raf, you shouldn’t be caring this much about this anymore.”

“Yeah well you shouldn’t be wanting to fuck random motherfuckers off the stree-” Your hand stung and Rafael held the side of his head. You couldn’t tell apart any emotion that was flowing through him at this point.

“I’m old enough to make these decisions, Raf.”

“Sure don’t act like it.” That made your blood boil.

“Says the one crying like a little bitch the moment I want some closeness,” Rafael opens his mouth to speak, but you quickly shut him up, “Grow the fuck up cause I’m not about to stand here while you talk me down like I’m a fucking dumbass.” Your voice wavers in strength.

You refuse to give him the chance to respond to that, figuring the power in you was beginning to grow too sensitive by the second. As you leave the room you’re sure to slam the door shut. Before you could break you grab your hoodie and your phone off of the counter and rush out the door. Looking down at the notification made your chest sting, but managed to cheer you up enough to smile thankfully. It was an unknown number, but you knew who it was regardless.

[:Hey, holding up okay?]

A huff leaves your worn figure before you text back a small ‘yeah, what’s up?’ before adding him to your contacts and trugging out of the complex for a walk.

Maybe it would calm your nerves and distract you from feeling watched.

#keeping the reader gender neutral of course #venom x reader #Eddie Brock x reader #oc x reader #? #the conflict in the beginning of this is a little dumb but just bare with me #this has been in my drafts for years so uh #just leaving this here #I’m feeling better #thank you for all of your kind words and offers of help #it was kind of a shock to see that so #thank you #i promise I’m getting better #trash writing

[saintsofvoid]

Not my best work, but ya know trying. Umbra torture porn, just him solo jacking it to Execution Time and some of his own archives.

Words - 2267

Not super graphic, but normal blood and suffering would expect him to be into. I am full of regret, so enjoy.

For most the screams would have been ear splitting, the sight too much to take in, but for some this was their fantasy. For Umbra, it was welcoming company now, the normal names popping up in chat, clipping moments, discussing the details. The screams continued as the electric volts shot through the victim, their head snapping back as their spine arched. Straining against the restraints on the chair holding them in place.

Umbra is sat propped up in some dark corner of a run down motel, blood smears on the wall and used needles shoved under the mattress. Some place you stay to hide for the night or die, a place where nobody recognizes names and has never seen faces. The internet is solid though and that's all he really needed.

Laptop screen illuminating the darkness, image of the fried body reflected in his black eyes. Chat continued to scroll, eddies being passed around on bets, messages on how the eyes popped, begging the cameras to be moved closer. Umbra shifted on the filthy mattress taking in the smoking form of the dead man before him. Part of the thrill, knowing that could be him, could be any one of the pervs in chat. He loved it, watching the filth who got caught be killed, survival of the fittest, and the fit sat laughing at it.

The screen goes black as the next execution is queued up. A quick section on the criminal, what state they're out of, and method of execution. Lethal injection. Chat sparks up immediately with links to place bets on the time, money being thrown around to switch out the vials. Arguments starting that they should just use bleach, an internal cleaning for the damned. Umbra can't help but smirk at some of the messages flying through, people so deep into the BD addictions they were no different than him. Wanting to witness torture, suffering, felt morally right because these were criminals. He knew they couldn't separate reality from their fiction though, that this was all content and nothing more. A few may be just as twisted as him, enjoying it for what it was. As he began to learn though it was all just an addiction now, another chase for a different type of high, the line between morals skewed and erased. Was all just content, entertainment, nobody was in the wrong here.

He sits in silence, metal fingers tapping across the keyboard on the laptop. Sending messages back to a small group engaged in more graphic types of execution. The screen eventually comes back and a woman is standing in front of the camera. Final rites are being performed, whatever follows for the legal course. Everything is muted, but he can tell by the look the woman doesn't care. No remorse, no fear, she's accepted her fate and just wants to get it over with. She moved back to sit in the execution seat, leaned back and arms bound to the armrests. Umbra watches intently, head tilted to the side playing with a ring weaved into his dreadlocks. He can see the furrowed brow, the annoyance on the woman's face. The doctor comes up and injects the needle and she spits in his face. Chat lights up with people laughing, emotes and money flying bye, both cheering her on as one of them and chanting for her death.

She looks dead into the camera after that, waiting for her death to come. Something washes over him at that glare. It mimics his own, a reflection he's seen in the mirror so many times. He smirked back at the screen, pushing the laptop to the side, adjusting himself on the bed. Watching as the injection is given, his hand moving to grope himself through his pants.

Free hand running up his side to the exposed vent, metallic fingers dancing across where synthetic flesh meets metal. Fingers slipping in and his system lights up, hud display flashing a warning that he quickly dismisses. He knew his limits, how far he could push his system before it went critical. The first jolt has him rolling his head back, squeezing his cock through his pants. Had been too long since he found pleasure, the sensation feeling almost foreign.

He watched with interest, intent, imagining what the prisoner was feeling. He could see the rage in her eyes, not about her death but that she had been caught to begin with. She was a fighter, and this was a pathetic way out. Only riled him up more. Could tell the moment the poison hit her system, the veins jolting out, the sudden attack to her body. He sunk further into the filthy mattress, groping at his stiffening cock. Free hand running along his body, under the torn tank-top and along his torso. Metal fingers catching at the splits of skin where the metal peaks through, metal bones shifting just beneath the flesh, body responding to the touch.

Doesn’t take long for the woman to succumb to the poison in her system, final moments of struggle leaving her body, fading out as she goes slack in the seat against her restraints. It's all too quick he thinks, there’s nothing involved in this method, it's just a glimpse and then everything is over. Finds himself siding with the chat, should have used bleach or some acid, given a real show for the money they’re throwing around.

Doesn’t take long and the next stream is up, another hanging, but the scene has him perked up. Prisoner has blood on his forehead and the guard has a busted nose, another bastard with some type of fight to the very end. Everything is harsh with how they move him, the positioning, they tighten the noose too tight around the convict’s neck and he knows where this is going. They’re going to make his last moments hell, make the poor gonk suffer to his death.

Anticipating he can feel his cock twitch under his grip, straining up against his pants. Final rites are given and Umbra is pulling himself out, kicking his pants off to the side of the bed and letting his legs fall open. Stroking slowly as he watches for the drop. When it does he’s not disappointed, the eager twitch in his palm as he squeezes his own grip. His free hand finding the ends of his dreads wrapped around his neck, tightening them to the scene. Neck only cracked, convict very much alive swinging as dead weight as its up to suffocation to take him. Body jolting in a natural display for survival as everyone simply watches and counts down the seconds.

His pace picks up on the strokes, chin lifted as a display of his own throat, dreads pulled tight to the resistance of metal. It's enough though, barely, he can feel the edge somewhere deep down and a faded high he’s chasing. Stroking himself to the dying heartbeat, to every twitch, to the look of pain and horror. Everyone is a tough bitch until death is consuming them, then the begging starts, the tears, the pleads. Oh how he loves it, how he wishes he could hear their thoughts, the bastards pleading to be spared.

Doesn’t take long for him to get into the motions, hips jerking up to meet his strokes. He’s seen enough people hung he knows how it all goes, but when the vendetta is met where it becomes personal- makes it all the much better. Hips jerking up as his hand squeezes down around the base, straining for friction, wanting so much more. What he wouldn’t give to have a warm body beneath him. Have his toy taking the brunt of his frustration, pent up rage and lust. The snapping of a neck has never sounded so good.

His cock twitched in his hand, a bead of precum dripping down from the head. Robotic fingers stretching to smear it down his shaft. Slow stroke up and teasing the head. Shifting as he watched the body twitch, the final moments of life dying out. His cock pulsing in his hand as he pulled tighter on the dreads around his neck. Felt teased at this point, executions were too quick. Nothing drawn out and truly painful. Feel the frustration boiling over in him. Pulling up a separate tab and plugging himself in, split screen of his own archives. Decades of interrogations, torture sessions, and murders. Attention flickering back to the execution page for what's to come.

Spitting into his hand he leaned back, laptop screen illuminating his face with footage and pictures of his own doing. The second screen comes back with another 3 women to be hung. Stroked himself slowly to the tears, the pleads, the bruises and blood. His grip tightened around himself as the nooses were secured around the women's necks.

A glimmer of a moment, where oddity would set in. That this was wrong, but the fixation of death is what always did him in. Those seconds where people would stand in the in-between. That's what he loved the most out of it, all he could get from these sites. Watching those like him, lessers to him, be met with such a fate, riled him. Watching others be tortured and murdered at his hand was only the next substitute to get him over.

Feelings were rare, he just needed to get off and be done. Transfixed though, dragging it out, choking himself, fingers slipping into his side vent and his hips bucked up into his fist. Jaw clenched tight as he steadied himself. Twisting his fist down his shaft, squeezing at the base and twisting at the swelling head. Warm metal against hot flesh, watching intently at every move on screen. The words meant nothing, but the silence he knew what was about to happen. The floor falling out and the last seconds of misery wiped away.

All dead within seconds, necks snapped and twisted around the ropes. Feet twitching as the body processes its over. Umbra lets out a long slow breath, grabbing his cock at the base and slapping it against his abdomen. Attention shifting to his own videos, the blood spurting out of open gashes, gurgling up from the throat. Desperate hands trying to fight him off, watching the last of their strength fade away, the life in their eyes go dull snuffing out, and their hands falling back to the ground.

Flicking to the next capture, the next memory, biting hard enough on his lip to draw blood. He remembers the man, a corpo in the wrong place at the wrong time. Trying to find his dealer and stumbling upon a monster feasting. A low moan escapes between parted lips and he doesn’t recognize it as his own. The sheer look of horror, the panicked scream and tumble as he tried to turn on heel and run. Blade sinking into the man’s ankle dragging him back into the mess. Then it's just blow after blow, blood spraying up with each pull of his fist. The point of submission came too quickly and he had backed off.

Umbra groaned as he watched the scene, the man spitting up blood from busted teeth and broken nose. The perfect façade broke as he laid there suffering on the floor. Long slow strokes speeding up, fisting at his cock as he watched, fingers again playing with the vents at his side. The electric racing through his body, making him arch back into it, hips stuttering up into his fist. Tongue flicking out smearing the blood from his lip, only making it all feel so much more real.

See himself climb on top of the corpo blood coated hands running along his beaten face. The soft hush and broken whimper, grasping him with such care, thumbs stroking over bloody cheeks before pushing them into his eyes. Screams engulfing the room, and Umbra can’t stifle the moan that wracks through him. Watching himself pull back to admire the scene, blood running from the eye sockets, mumbled pleas to be let go. Was no fight to begin with, but the man made such a pretty image. Watching him slowly bleed, removing the knife from his ankle and slicing a clean line across his chest. Only drawing a whimper but soon the front of the shirt stains red, and another gash joins it.

He’s close then, such a simple action, a simple kill and it's got him spiraling over. He watches as the knife comes up, the pathetic cry for it to end, and then it's over. Knife plunged deep into his chest, twisted and ripped back out. Throwing his head back as his cock strains and pulses, stroking himself over the edge. Moan leads to a choked off scream as he cums, body shaking with the climax. Ropes of cum spilling onto his abdomen and up to his chest. Stroking the last of it out up to a squeeze on the swollen head. Wiping what ends up on his hand onto the mattress and just falling back onto the bed. Slapping the laptop closed, over the whole thing.

Lays there in silence for several minutes, staring up at the ceiling. Part of him really hates himself, not so much for getting off but only being able to at his own work. Yet only able to think of that corpo, if it wasn't for the heat of the moment, would have dragged it out. Such a waste of a pretty face. Then the smile cracks, that dangerous laugh, and he’s floating. He’s got another.

#nsft #cp77 umbra #fics and shit #i guess idk