D4nshyp3r - Dan

i am begging you all to stop treating this site like instagram if you dont want it to be content free by next year

♱ 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐝, 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 ♱

pt.01

IN WHICH…A virgin meets the new priest of her church, father Matt, and her world of all things holy begins to crumble.

WARNINGS… NSFW AHEAD! Religious figures, god is mentioned, Demons, slapping, sex, masturbation, parents being rough with their kids, mind fucking, orgasms, innocent!reader, slight asshole!matt. IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!

APOLOGIZING NOW TO ANYONE WHO IS SUPER RELIGIOUS! THIS IS NOT MEANT TO DISRESPECT ANYONE, I JUST GOT THE IDEA FROM OTHER SMUTS I'VE READ, THE SONG BY PATD!, AND THE MOVIE MOTHER!

Matt has slowly but surely made a name for himself within the clergy and the church attendees.

He had a way with words that seemed to captivate any and everyone he was speaking to, whether it was male or female. His words gave hope, they soothed you, they made you want more, crave it. It wasn't long before the odds worked in his favor and Father Jon gave him a permanent place in the church, letting him jump from being a deacon to a priest. Some of the clergy members had a problem with it, claiming it was unfair for him to jump to such a high rank in a short period of time.

"Proverbs 14:30...A peaceful mind gives life to the body, but jealousy rots the bones."

The way Matt had stated the scripture sounded much more like a threat rather than a piece of advice. His eyes were dark, his posture firm, and a malevolent smirk plastered on his face.

It was that day the clergy knew they shouldn't speak down upon him, he radiated power, a power no one wanted to defy.

He would usually stand side by side with Father Jon, helping preach to the attendees of the church. Other times he was in charge of the confessional, listening to the people confess their sins.

Father Jon quickly became impressed with his knowledge of the righteous path and integrity, So impressed that he offered a teaching position to him.

Matt took the position by thanking Father Jon with a firm handshake, grateful for the opportunity to teach the young minds of the right way to live.

For the next few months, he taught the senior class. He wasn't strict when teaching, he was laid back for the most part, but he made it a point that he wouldn't tolerate disrespect toward him or Christ. Instead of tests, he opted for long lectures and presentations. His way of teaching made the students love him, they participated in class willingly and showed him the utmost respect. The girls in the senior class were ecstatic about having Father Matt as their teacher, swooning and whispering about him at any given moment.

They fell victim to his charm.

They would call him cute, bring him slices of pies and cake they made themselves, they even talked about marrying him one day and raising their children in the church.

The only one who wasn't following suit in the schoolgirl crush was Y/n.

Now don't get her wrong, she could admit he was attractive, but he was too attractive.

There was something off about him that she couldn't place her finger on.

She would hear whispering whenever she was too close to him, the voices sounding hushed and scratchy. She would see glimpses of shadow people in her peripheral. Most of the time they were standing in the corners, looming over students, or simply sitting at Father Matt's side.

And worst of all...she began to have impure thoughts.

Images of them kissing under the tree in the park would pop into her head, vivid glimpses of his hand trailing along her shoulder only to drop down to her breast...She would see brief glimpses of them rolling around in bed, naked.

It scared her and intrigued her all at the same time. She had never had an impure thought like this before, and she blamed him....But she also wanted to expand on these thoughts.

She knew it was wrong, if God even looked inside her mind she would be stricken down and laid to rest.

"Just like that Angel, so good f'me." He groaned in her ear as she took all of him, inch by inch. Y/n whimpered at the burning but pleasurable ministration that was happening between her thighs, craving more, feining for it.

He thrust into her harshly, her back arching as a strangled cry left her throat. He kept going, feeding off of her cries and pleas, gripping her sides harshly and leaving indentations into the soft supple skin

She felt something forming in the pit of her stomach, the pressure so large she felt like she was going to scream and pass out all at once.

"Let go Angel, let go for your god" He whispered in her ear, a wicked grin across his face. Her eyes clenched shut as she let out a loud and strangled moan.

"Y/N!"

She's snapped back to reality, blinking profusely as she tries to figure out what's going on. She looks around and notices all of her classmates staring at her, some snickering, others with judgment.

She feels the brown flesh on her face heat up in embarrassment, her eyes finally landing on Matt whose already fixed on her.

He's staring at her as if he knows what she was imagining.

"I-I'm sorry, what was the question?" She asks nervously. Matt crosses his arms and licks over his teeth, his eyes narrowing. "You should be paying attention in class Y/n. Spending your time daydreaming instead of learning about your God is disrespectful, and what do I not tolerate?"

She can't help but shrink in on herself from his harsh words, her gaze now cast downward, " d-disrespect towards you o-or God..." Her voice is meek, a clear indication of fright from being reprimanded.

He hums and stares at her for a few seconds before continuing with his lecture.

The day soon ends, the girl quickly making her way through the church to go home. However, she's stopped by Father Jon himself.

"Y/n."

"A-afternoon Father." He smiles at her polite words, but soon turns serious. "Father Matt told me about your little situation today in class. You're never distracted, is everything alright?"

She glances at him nervously before looking down at her shoes. Father Jon can see something is tearing the girl apart, he's known her since she was born and knows this is out of character for her.

"Do you need to confess?"

A barely seeable nod is given, her eyes still cast downward.

"Why don't you go confess? Maybe that will ease your mind and get you back on track."

That seems like a good idea to the girl. If she confesses her impure thoughts and asks for Gods forgiveness, maybe they will stop.

Father Jon sends her to the booth, letting her know someone will be in shortly for her to talk to. She sits on the cherry wood bench of the small box, waiting patiently and anxiously for someone to sit on the other side.

She stops the fiddling of her hands when she hears the door on the other side open and close, a loud thud being heard. She flinches at the sound and listens to the harsh ragged breathing on the other side.

"H-Hello?"

"Confess..."

The voice is one she's never heard before. They sound sick, as if there's a bunch of mucus in their throat.

"U-umm...I-I'm not sure where to sta-Free yourself of the shackles." The words spoken sound like they are being spoken through a sea of static. It's unnerving, but she blames it on her being nervous already.

"I... I have thoughts... sinful thoughts."

She's met with silence so she continues.

"They-They're thoughts of me...with a man...A man of the church... h-he's touching me and I enjoy it. T-they've been happening for a while now, every second of the day....They're worse when I'm around him. It's causing me to be distracted from Christ and I feel dirty, I don't like it. It's wrong and I- It's not wrong"

Her words get caught in her throat and her brows furrow.

"W-what?"

"Your thoughts, they feel good correct? Whenever you imagine him touching you in your most delicate...sensitive areas...it feels nice. You wish your own hands could give you the pleasure. Your skin feels like it's on fire, your breathing speeding up. Your thighs clench together, and you begin to pulsate, an aching feeling in between your legs. Your core aches, wishing that everything you're imagining is real-" As the voice begins to spew the erotic words, the images begin to flash through her mind, knocking the air out of her lungs.

She can feel them.

Her thighs clench together tightly, one hand gripping the bench while the other claws at the wall of the confessional to steady herself. Her skin feels hot, her clothes suffocating her. She feels the sweat forming on her forehead, dripping down the side of her face.

Unintentionally she begins rocking her hips, grinding down on the bench. The combination of her clenched thighs and rocking caused a knot to form in her abdomen, her movements getting faster. Faint whimpers fall from her mouth as she clenches her eyes shut, chasing whatever it is shes running after.

"That's it Angel."

The voice, Matt's voice, sounds so real, almost as if he's whispering in her ear instead of in her head.

"You feel it, that hot burning ball in your stomach? Let go, let it take control."

The back of her head hits the wall of the confessional harshly, her eyes rolling back as her thighs shake. She feels a liquid roll down the inner part of her leg and dripping on the floor.

Her once tense body relaxes, her mind in a state of delirium as she takes deep breaths.

Her eyes snap open when she hears the door of the confessional slam. She comes to her senses and quickly scrambles out of the booth. Her head turns both ways, analyzing the empty hallway. Once she figures no one was a witness to whatever happened a few seconds ago, she speed walks away from the booth.

On her way home, she kept replaying her moment in the booth. The words that were spoken, the euphoric feeling she experienced...

She loved it.

She wanted more.

She soon makes it home, immediately being met with her parents in the kitchen.

"Y/n, you're home late." Her father gruffs out. "Father Jon wanted to speak to me after class." She lies swiftly, not even thinking twice like she usually would about it.

"About what?" Her mother raises a brow, questioning her response.

"Me joining the choir."

Her parents become elated, glad their daughter might finally have a place in the church. They usher her out of the kitchen, telling her to go shower and get ready for dinner. She does as told, taking the time to lather her body in vanilla-scented suds.

she dries herself off and pulls on her satin nightgown, putting on her slippers and making her way to the kitchen by skipping.

She feels awake, she feels alive, she feels happy.

The family of three eats their dinner, mainly in silence. The only noise heard being the scraping of utensils against the porcelain plates.

As she eats dinner, her mind drifts back to the confessional booth, that aching feeling between her thighs returning.

She discreetly clenches her thighs, adjusting the way she was sitting. Her parents noticed but chose not to say anything, figuring the chair was just uncomfortable. Dinner is soon finished, Y/n helping her mother wash the dishes.

"Did you want ice cream for dessert? I picked up the vanilla one you like." A loud clap of thunder is heard as Y/n turns to her mother.

"No, I'm going to go to bed."

Her parents were shocked by her turning down the dessert. She loved vanilla ice cream, for her to turn it down was unusual. They watch as she retreats up the stairs.

The girl waltzes into her room, closing the door softly, and falling into her bed. Her body melts into the twin-sized mattress, some of her stuffed animals falling to the floor. She relaxes as she hears the pitter-patter of rain falling onto the roof, falling into a calm trance as she closes her eyes.

Her relaxation is quickly interrupted by the ache between her thighs returning. It causes her to become restless, her body twisting and turning.

She clenches her thighs hoping to soothe the ache, but she's unsuccessful. She huffs and sits up, sliding to the edge of her bed. She tries to recreate her actions in the booth, her bed squeaking as she moves back and forth.

But once again, she was unsuccessful.

She grunts and crawls back to the top of the bed, falling back into her pillow. As she does so, her nightgown slides up, showing her white panties.

She looks down and bites her lips, contemplating. She recalls a story from one of the girls at school whose older sister was caught using her hand to do what's called "masturbation". She claimed her sister did it every night until her parents found out.

Of course, the girl was sent away by her parents, but Y/n wasn't thinking about that. The only thing on her mind was satisfying the throbbing between her legs.

Her right hand shakes as she moves it toward to cotton material, hesitant to do what she believes is wrong

But It's not wrong... Right?

The clergy member who listened to her confession told her it wasn't wrong.

leading with that, she dives in.

She slides her hand under the band of her panties, flinching at the foreign feeling but continuing. She props her legs up, planting the soles of her feet flat on her mattress.

She slides a single finger through her folds, gasping at the new and exciting touch. She feels a thick wet mixture on her fingers, moving it around. As she does so, she touches a certain part of herself that makes her gasp softly, her back arching as another flash of lightning hits. Deciding that she likes the feeling, she circles that spot, her index finger drawing lazy shapes.

Her body twitches, her toes curling as her eyes roll back.

This was an all-new feeling that she quickly became accustomed to. She doesn't understand why masturbation is such a taboo,

It was euphoric.

As she draws lazy patterns, gasping and whimpering softly, her closet door creaks open...But she doesn't stop. In the back of her mind, she thought it was whatever shadow she's been seeing the last few months coming to get her.

But it wasn't the shadow...

It was Father Matt.

It seems as if the whole house shakes with the booming thunder, lightning striking once more as he moves closer to her.

Her jaw drops as a shock goes through her body, her eyes fixated on Matt.

"You look perfect Angel....Masturbating right under the lord's eye." His eyes fall on the cross right above the head of her bed.

The erotic words make her back arch.

She feels that hot coil in her abdomen again, her finger moving faster to reach that high from before.

"Oh God, Matt!"

Matt smirks at her, his hand coming down to grip her jaw, "You're so close Angel...and yet, you're not going to finish."

Before she could question his confusing words, her door was slammed open.

Her head turns and her eyes land on the baffled and enraged faces of her parents. She snatches her hand from her underwear, her eyes wide in fright. She yanks her nightgown down as she sits up, her heart thumping in her chest as her father marches toward her.

"Daddy wait I ca-" Her face whips to the side, her body falling to the floor.

"How dare you! You're a Sinner, a Jezebel!"

His voice echoes throughout the home, mixing with the sound of booming thunder. Tears form in her eyes as she looks up at him, "I-I'm not a Sinner! I'm not a Jezebel! What I did was ok, I felt good! It's not a sin!" Her parents stare at her with wide eyes, their ears ringing as they hear her words.

"S-she's possessed... She needs to be cleansed." Her mother murmured, her face pale and looking sick. Y/n turns to her mother in fright, "W-what? No no! I'm not possessed! I swear to God-You lie under God's name!" Her father shouts once more. He grabs her by her arm, yanking her to her feet and yelling in her face.

"I always knew you were a hellion, getting into trouble by claiming you would see shadows, and had an imaginary friend named Matthew!"

He scoffs in disgust, barely able to look at her.

"You're a liar, a sinner, an awful excuse of a daughter." He begins to pull her out of the bedroom, ignoring her cries and pleas to stop. He drags her down the stairs, not caring about the way she misses a few steps and falls.

He yanks her back up and pulls her out of the home, the harsh falling rain drenching their bodies.

"Daddy stop! Please! I'm sorry! I'll do better! I'll pra-PRAYING WON'T SAVE YOU NOW!" Just as his words fly out, lightning strikes a nearby tree, the branches falling into the street immediately.

"We need to get to the church!"

While soaking wet from the rain, her father shoves her into the backseat of the car. The two adults climb into the front of the car and fly out of the driveway, heading straight to the church.

Y/n sits in the backseat sobbing. She doesn't know what she did wrong, she was told it was ok.

"Please! I-it was an accident! It won't happen again!" she pleads hopelessly. "You're damn right it won't!" Her father shouts as he quickly parks the car.

He tries to pull her out of the car but she fights back, kicking and screaming at him to get away from her. In a fit of rage, he grabs a handful of wet curls, yanking her out of the car.

She yells in pain, her knees dragging against the wet and rough pavement.

The clergy was currently having a meeting, the main fathers' gathered around the podium, talking about Sunday service. They were in the middle of choosing what scriptures to read when suddenly the doors burst open, the family of three tumbling in.

"Oh my, what's going on here?" Father Marcus asks as everyone looks at the crying girl in her father's arms.

Y/n's father drags her towards the priests, "Forgive us for intruding, but we need your help! Y/n she's-she's possessed!"

The fathers gasp at their words.

"Possessed? What do you mean possessed?" Father Jon asks as he stares at the crying girl. " Tell them what you did!" her father sneers. She shakes her head, too embarrassed and frightened to even speak.

he throws her down to the floor, yelling at her to confess her sins.

"He told me it was ok! H-he told me sex and touching myself was ok!" she sobs once more.

The fathers gape in shock, this was new for her. She was usually so bright and innocent, always following the right path, but they have noticed a difference as of late.

"I have noticed a difference, she's not as bright as she used to be...Always looking off into corners as if she sees things." Father Garrison speaks lowly. "Please, help us! Do what you did before, she needs he-Dousing her in holy water won't help."

Everyone turns to Father Matt as he speaks, "What do you mean Matthew?"

"I mean that she needs more than just holy water."

The other fathers look at each other, then back at the new member.

"Then what do you suggest?"

Matt's eyes fall on the mess of a girl on the ground, staring down at her with hungry eyes as she looks up at him with tears.

"An Exorcism"

PT 2!!!! WHAT WE THINKING YALL?!?!?! SEND IN STUFF TO MY INBOX WITH YOUR THOUGHTS OR EVEN JUST COMMENT!!

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🍑: @mattslolita @thenickgirl @guccifrog @luverboychris @zayyluvz @mrsmiagreer @chrisssluttywaist @78yaz @hoesformatt @freshloveforthefit @3lizaluvs @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @jetaimevous @luxy-nyx @ts-is-my-spirt-animal @iihrtsturniol0 @idontexistman @katw4shereee @madisturn @starlace111 @zivall @adoreindie @imwetforyourmom @sturnsxplr-25 @sturncakez @theyluvme-2315 @moonk1ss3d @@babyalliah-777 @sturniololol @oliviasturniolo21 @ariithereyet @blahbel668

𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 • alpha!eddie munson x reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 • eddie's chances of being an alpha are quite small. your chances of presenting as an omega, especially while still in high school, are almost none. almost.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 • 10k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 • SMUT (18+ only, technically dubcon due to heat, omegaverse, unprotected sex), knotting, possessiveness and protectiveness, mentions of pregnancy/slight breeding kink, size kink (alpha!eddie is Large in every way), brief trypanophobia warning, mentions of/implied deceased parent (not reader's they're fine),

“The official term is enhanced sexual dimorphism, sometimes abbreviated as ‘ESD’,” Mrs. Mittelman explained, “but, you’re probably all more familiar with the names for the two enhanced sexes: Alpha, and omega.”

You sighed as you rested your chin on your fist.  Health class was always boring, and awkward.  Most of all, it didn’t seem very useful.  In all of Hawkins, you knew of six omegas and eleven Alphas.  Why did the curriculum need to dedicate a whole month to this when you, and everyone you knew, were going to end up not presenting at all and just be betas?

“Due to modern fertility advancements, these sexes are becoming more and more rare,” she continued to explain.  “Alphas and omegas, when in a mated pair, are significantly more fertile than a beta pair.  However, times are changing: after all, I think all of you have beta parents, don’t you?”

You didn’t even know anyone had raised their hand, until Mrs. Mittelman pointed behind you to someone in the back.

“Yes?” she prompted, and you turned around.  You were pretty sure his name was… Freddie?  No, wait— Eddie.  You’d seen him around, and he was sort of hard to forget with his… ostentatious styling, but you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him talk in class before.

“Uh, actually,” he cleared his throat, “my mom was an omega.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Mittelman nodded, looking a little wide-eyed.  “I didn’t realize that.  Well, then maybe some of what we’re talking about today will be more familiar to you.  I hope you’ll bear with us.”

Was.  There’s no going back after presenting, of course, so she must not be around anymore.  You saw him look down, and wondered if he regretted bringing it up at all, before you returned your focus to the board where the teacher was pointing to some particularly uninteresting charts.

“The window of development for Alphas and omegas is actually very narrow: about ninety percent of enhanced sexual presentations take place at age twenty-one,” she continued.  “The odds of presenting after age twenty-two are so astronomically low, that anyone who turns twenty-three without presenting is immediately registered as a beta.  Can anyone remember from this week’s assigned reading—”

Everyone groaned, realizing she was about to spring a pop quiz on the class.

“— what an individual’s odds are of presentation if their parents are an Alpha and an omega?”

A girl in the front row raised her hand, and the teacher pointed to her.  “Um, eighty-two percent?”

“Correct!” Mrs. Mittelman smiled.  “Okay, what about the odds of presentation if one’s parents were one Alpha and one beta?”

The boy that sat next to you on the right— James Richey, which you wouldn’t know if you hadn’t been paired with him on far too many assignments— raised his hand.  “Forty-five percent,” he answered.

“Ohh, a little lower,” she winced with her gentle correction, “anyone else wanna give that a try?”

Intimidated by James’ folly, it took an awkward pause for someone else to take a guess.  It was your closest friend in class, and likely in the whole school, Helen.  “Thirty?” she proposed.

“Well, twenty-nine, but yes,” Mrs. Mittelman.  “What about if the pair is one beta and one omega?  Mr. Munson, you should know this one— since it applies to you.”

The whole class turned back to look at Eddie, who was awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.  “You see,” he began, “I agree with you that I should know that but, uh, I didn’t exactly… read the chapter.”

Mrs. Mittelman sighed slowly.  “Right, um, well… maybe someone else who did can tell us?”

“Twelve percent,” somebody behind you, from the other side, announced, and the teacher smiled.

“Yes!  That’s right,” she replied.  “Okay, last one: how likely is one to present if their parents are both betas?”

You raised your hand, because this one was the easiest to remember.  When you were called on, you answered: “The odds are less than one percent.”

“Yes, good job,” she smiled.  “Congratulations!  You all passed today’s pop quiz.  Your prize is… not having a pop quiz tomorrow.”

The bell rang; everyone reached for their backpacks and sighed with relief.  

“Tomorrow, we’ll be covering the rest of the chapter, so if you forgot to read it,” she said pointedly, “now’s the time to do so!”

You didn’t know a lot about the guy— hell, you’d forgotten his name— but you figured Eddie Munson was not going to read the chapter, even when given a second chance.  You don’t end up on your third senior year by reading the assigned material.  I wonder if it bothers him, being twenty years old and still in high school, you wondered, it would sure bother me.

But that was the last time you thought about Eddie Munson for about two weeks.  You didn’t plan on thinking about him again until maybe graduation, which you did hope to see him at, but you were forced to wonder about him when he was absent from class for an entire week.  Frankly, you were pretty sure he couldn’t afford a vacation.  A rumor had spread that he was in jail for dealing marijuana, but that was all you had to work with.  Helen thought maybe he was gone for good, moved back in with some other family— you hadn’t even known before this that he lived with his uncle, so maybe his dad was somewhere out there and he was spending time with him.

All the rumors were dispelled in an instant when Eddie returned.  As near-impossible as it seemed, it was even more impossible to deny when you saw it for yourself.

You were ten minutes into the midterm exam for Mrs. Mittelman’s health class when the door opened; in a silent room, it was instinctive to look up, but you choked when you saw him come in.  It was Eddie, for sure— that hair and Hellfire Club tee were unmistakable— but he was… different.

Completely different.

He was taller, to the point that Mrs. Mittelman was craning her neck to look up at him (though to be fair, she was already pretty short).  He was… bigger, specifically more muscular— his body was straining against his clothes, the half-sleeve of his shirt exposed the prominent veins of his forearm, even his ripped jeans struggled to hold him in anymore.  

“Sorry I’m late,” he said quietly to the bewildered teacher, and even when he deliberately spoke softly, his voice was clearly deeper.  She handed him a blank exam and he attempted to slip through the rows of desks to find his own seat.  You certainly weren’t the only pair of eyes following him across the classroom, or the only one noticing the way he struggled to fit back behind his own desk due to his radical change in size.  He cleared his throat and shifted in the chair, starting to take his test— and either not noticing, or successfully ignoring, the stares he was receiving.

At the same time, you and Helen looked at each other with wide eyes, and she mouthed something to you: What the fuck?!

Your entire class was specifically prepared to appreciate the anomaly of probability that this was.  Still, statistics be damned, it was clear that in the time Eddie Munson had disappeared, he’d become an Alpha.

Three months later…

“Oh come on,” you rolled your eyes, “that’s bull and you know it.”

“I’m not sure if you really believe that that attitude is going to help you in any way,” Principal Higgins frowned, “but to be completely clear: it will not.  Three dress code violations add up to an after-school detention.”

“But these are stupid violations!” you insisted.  “It’s not like I was walking around in a mini-skirt— look, this one says my sneakers were untied!  That’s ridiculous.”

“Arguing with me is considered disrespect of authority,” Higgins reminded you, leaning in closer, “which is also punishable by after-school detention.  I’d recommend that you stop now before you end up with two dates with me this week.”

You shut your eyes to stop yourself from rolling them, but relented.  That said, you were playing the interaction over and over in your mind as you sat at that desk in detention, arms crossed and lips curled in a sneer as you imagined really telling him off instead of laying down at taking it.

You jumped when the opening of the door startled you out of your fantasy, and there was Eddie— wow, he was even late to detention.

You looked down sheepishly as he crossed the room and took his seat, but once he was settled in front of you and off to the side, you had your first chance to get a good look at him after his… transformation.

It was a good thing his jacket was sleeveless, because it didn’t look like his arms would’ve fit through the sleeves if it had them.  It wasn’t that he was just outrageously ripped now or something, or that he was specifically some outrageous height… he was just big.  Alphas were built that way.  He towered over nearly everyone in school now; he stopped getting bullied immediately after he came back, that must’ve been a nice perk.  Still, for a guy who got so massive and so well-known practically overnight (or in this case, overweek), he didn’t seem that… happy?  

You looked down into your lap again.  Who were you to judge his emotions?  You didn’t know anything about him.  It was just that, well, he’d had a reputation for his antics and dramatic behavior before, but lately he was uncharacteristically quiet.  He never made a scene in the cafeteria anymore, he never talked back to teachers (which he’d apparently done plenty before, you’d seen it once or twice and Helen said it happened near-daily with Ms. O’Donnell), he was just… existing.  Maybe he was finally being normal.  The only problem with that theory is that, while you didn’t like to buy into stereotypes, you were confident that Eddie Munson would’ve been among the first to become better behaved after presenting as an Alpha.

You weren’t trying to be sexist, really!  Alphas were hormonally predisposed to aggression and impulsiveness, it was just a fact of the matter, especially when omegas or other Alphas were involved.  To be fair, that wasn’t really an issue in his case, in a school where literally no other students had ESD.  Technically, there was one other Alpha here, but he was a teacher… he was not only mated, but mature, and no one was exactly worried that he and Eddie were going to end up brawling on the lawn or something.  Alphas were always fighting over unmated omegas anyways, of which there weren’t any in Hawkins.

It made you wonder why Eddie stayed, if he had no chance of finding a true mate here.  Alphas and betas didn't get together very often, for reasons that weren’t explained in much detail in your health textbook.

Torn from your thoughts by the Principal clearing his throat and addressing the room, you looked up quickly.  “Now,” he began sternly, “all my regulars know I believe in working detention— labor is good for the soul!  And there’s lots of work to do on campus today so you three,” he gestured at some boys in the front, “you’re gonna be in the garden out front with our landscapers.  And you four in the back, you’re sweeping up the wood shop before you give our gymnasium a good mop.”

The other students stood, and you glanced at Eddie as you realized he was the only other person left sitting.

“Uhh, you two,” Higgins noticed, “you can go clean the cafeteria.  But we’re all out of mops, so, just grab some rags.”

“Rags?” Eddie noticed.  “We’re cleaning the entire cafeteria floor with rags?”

“Oh, not just the floor.  Table and chairs too.”

“Hopefully not in that order,” you breathed.

“Get to it,” he snapped, and Eddie gave you a quick look over his massive, hard shoulder before shrugging— god, his neck just seemed thicker when he did that.

Your eyes still found themselves lingering on the hulking mass of his body as the two of you were on your hands and knees wiping the laminate cafeteria floor.

"So," Eddie broke the silence, "you, uh… I haven't seen you in detention before."

"No," you agreed, "this is actually my first time."

"Oh wow," he smiled, "a detention virgin!  Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

You snorted, shaking your head as you looked at the floor again, but the off-color joke made you feel a little strange.  You blinked quickly and tried to get the image of Eddie being gentle out of your head.

"What are you in for?" he asked.

"Dress code," you nodded.

"Woah!  Something skimpy?"

"Not at all," you chuckled, "just, like, ripped jeans and a visible bra strap?  Apparently?"

"Aw, that's a shame," he smirked.  "I was thinking I missed you showing up in some sweet little number."

You raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing, mainly because your throat was suddenly a little dry.

"A-anyways," he mumbled, "I'm sorry you're here."

"Ditto," you offered, "but I know you're here kind of a lot."

"Yeah," he sighed, focusing harder on one spot that he rubbed with the rag intensely, "not as much as I used to be, but yeah…"

"Used to be… before…" you pressed.

"Before I… got big, yeah," he nodded.

An interesting way of describing it.  Certainly an accurate way.

"Um," he cleared his throat, "I skipped class, that's what they popped me for this time."

"Which class?"

"Shop."

"Oh god, I don't blame you, that's my least favorite class," you hummed.

"Really?  People always say they like it cause it's easy," he shrugged, "thought I was the only one that hated it."

"No, it's so annoying!" you assured.  "First of all, most people aren't being safe and I'm always on edge thinking somebody's about to lose a finger— and the assignments are so stupid!  Building birdhouses and clocks?  Like, isn't the whole point of a high school education to be able to get a job so I can afford to just buy a birdhouse for a dollar?"

"I don't mind the part where we build stuff," he admitted, "I just don't like that we have to build it exactly like he says.  Why can't there be some room for creativity?"

You nodded in agreement, clearing your throat quietly but not quite getting the catch in it; you were looking at the floor, and noticed that you were seeing spots, but simply tried to blink them away.

"I hate it even more now that I keep accidentally breaking stuff…" he continued, trailing off.

"Accidentally?"

"I'm still getting used to it… I'm stronger, you know."

Was it warm in here all of a sudden?  When you first came in, it was a little chilly— normally this room was filled with warm bodies to heat it up, so it was pretty cold when it was empty… or, it had been.  Now you were starting to feel your clothes cling to you, face beginning to flush. 

"I broke a hammer.  Splintered the handle— I guess I was holding it too hard…"

That was when you lost your balance and had to sit on the floor, leaning back against the leg of a table.  The orange light of dusk, coming in through the blinds in stripes, was blurry and disorienting.  A numb heat started to rush through your body, and the quick shallow breaths that filled your lungs did little to keep you from getting dizzy.

“Hey,” you heard Eddie’s voice— his hand was hesitantly holding your shoulder now, and just that made you soothe slightly.  “You okay?”

"I…" you began, but you didn't know what to say.  “Eddie,” you said softly, “I don’t… I feel weird.”

His hand moved up to your forehead, and you sighed and shut your eyes to savor every moment of his touch.  “Christ, you’re burning up.”

Your hands reached out blindly, grabbing onto his thick thigh through his jeans.  You heard him cough slightly.  “Something’s wrong, just… just need you to stay with me,” you breathed.

"Um, o-okay," he agreed hesitantly, kneeling in front of you.  

It was like a sharp pain— a tightness that twisted inside you— and you hissed in a breath through your teeth as your sneakers slid on the tile.

"Do you need some water?" he wondered, and when his hand cradled your face for a second, you shuddered and relaxed against the table leg behind you.

"No, I just need… I…" you panted.  Just touch me more, you thought, though you didn't understand why.  Another pang hit your gut and you clutched your stomach, hunching forward with a wince.

"I-I'm gonna get the nurse," he promised, but you suddenly grabbed onto his arms tightly, stopping him from getting up.

"No, don't go," you panted, "don't leave— you can't leave me here, Eddie!"

"Okay, okay!  I'm not gonna leave!" he promised, frustrated at first but softening up when he saw how scared you were.  "I'm not gonna leave, I swear."

"I don't know what's happening," you whispered under your breath.  "God— what's happening to me?"

"You're just…" he began, trailing off, "you're— fuck, I don't know.  But I think it's… I don't know how, but I think you might be—"

"Just tell me!" you sobbed.

You were clawing at his jacket, desperate to touch his skin, desperate for anything he would give you.  That was when you first felt the heat gather between your legs, a pulse inside you just before a gush of wetness that almost made you worry you were wetting yourself— until you felt it, felt that need arch your back and throb in your channel.  It felt like being turned on, it wasn’t like you’d never felt that before, but it was so much more intense that it almost felt like a new sensation entirely.  Even though your mind didn't understand what was going on, your body was calling out for him: Alpha, Alpha, Alpha—

Something changed in the air then.

"What did you call me?"

His voice was just as dark as his eyes, and suddenly you stilled.  Oh god, you'd said it out loud.

"Say it again," he ordered; for what little you knew about all this, you knew why your body gave into his demand like it couldn't do anything else but obey. 

"Alpha," you whimpered, looking up at him.  But you knew what he was already— right then, you were realizing what you were.  Only omegas were susceptible to an Alpha's voice like that.  This isn't possible, this is not possible… I'm too young, my parents are betas, how is this happening to me?

"You're going to be okay," he promised, "I know… I know it hurts.  But I can make it better, I can help you."

You nodded, panting, going along with it because you just needed him, needed the help he was promising.  You felt dizzy and delirious, but somehow the feeling was sort of addictive— like you craved the cure as much as the sickness.  With Eddie here, it was tolerable, even though the waves of pain made you shudder and whine through your teeth.

“I’m gonna help you,” he whispered, again.

You blinked at him, trying to clear the haze from your eyes, and saw the dark shimmer in his own— his pupils had blown out wide, his nostrils were flaring; he kept shaking his head, like he was trying to clear his thoughts, and it made his fluffy hair rustle.  “How?” you finally asked.

His hands tightened as they gripped your shoulders, and you clutched at his chest, whimpering under your breath as you felt the strong muscle under his thin shirt and hot skin.  “Do you trust me?” he replied instead of answering.

You nodded.  “Anything, Alpha, please—”

“Fuck,” he choked, and you gasped as his face buried in the crook of your neck.  His nose brushed against your jaw, his mouth was right up against your pulse as he spoke.  “I can smell you, you know— I can smell what you are.  It’s… I read about it, but I never knew…”

Your eyes had already fluttered shut as you hung off of him, and you could smell him too; you were so overstimulated that it was hard to focus on it, but it was sort of musky and warm and smoky— and sweet.  Like a Christmas fireplace with roasted chestnuts and caramel just starting to toast on the stove; it was like a memory you hadn’t lived yet, nostalgia for a home you never had.

You whimpered slightly as he pulled away, reaching out for more of his touch, but he just looked at you with his mouth open a bit to let his heavy breathing pass through.  “I— I can help you, I’m gonna help you,” he kept insisting, speaking hurriedly as he opened his belt and jeans.  It was slightly disconcerting, but your need was growing and you were in no place to reject his help— not when searing pain bloomed from your gut, crawled up your back and into your mind where it demanded the touch of an Alpha.

Still, you had some sense left in you.  As well as plenty of fear; your eyes nearly popped out of your head when they caught a glimpse of his cock.  "No— no way," you shook your head, trying to scoot away, "it won't… it can't—"

"It'll fit," he insisted, his grip tightening for a moment on his concerningly-massive erection, "you're an omega.  You're made to take it."

Even as terror clawed at your mind, arousal was coursing through your veins; hearing him talk like that, seeing his body, it all called to something incredibly primal inside you.  Something you didn't even know you had… technically, maybe you didn't until just now.  Or maybe it was always there, waiting for Eddie— after all, you'd presented after being around him for the longest (and closest) you ever had.  

"I won't hurt you, I swear," he breathed, but you could hear his desperation, too.  It must be hard, presenting young in a town like Hawkins where all the omegas are already long-since mated and married— and maybe a little mature for a twenty-year-old anyways, if that mattered.  And as for betas, well, you'd heard that it was… difficult, for Alphas and betas to mate.  Now you saw directly why: it could kill them, trying to take this.  You were still afraid it would kill you.  "It won't hurt, it's… it's going to feel good.  It's natural."

"Okay," you nodded, "okay, just… talk me through this, please— Alpha, I'm scared…"

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.  It should've been awkward, hugging a relative stranger, but it was so comforting… you sighed and held him, too, a bit of the ache inside you stilling.  And yet, your anticipation was growing: you felt another wave of slick start to leak out of you, and you whimpered slightly.

"Please," you whispered, "help me… I want you to."

"Shit," he blurted out, letting you go just long enough to peel his jacket off quickly.  "Just lay down, okay?" he offered as he put the jacket down on the floor behind you, not much padding from the hard tile but at least some protection from the coldness of it.  

You laid back, shivering as he climbed on top of you.  "Have you ever done this before?" you asked suddenly.  "Not just sex— helping an omega, specifically…"

It was kind of a stupid question, because where the fuck were these hypothetical omegas Eddie might have been with?  But you weren’t exactly thinking straight at the moment, understandably.  "Well, uh, no," he mumbled, "but I think I know how to do it.  I mean, I think I've always known— I couldn't tell you how, but… I can feel it."

You swallowed nervously.

"Trust me," he insisted.  "I know how much it hurts, I… just trust me.”

He was alone when he presented, after all; you finally put that together, and the thought of it inexplicably made your heart twist.  You knew nothing of the perils of presentation for an Alpha, but if anything like this… and he didn’t have anyone to hold him like he held you, to tell him it would be okay, to take the pain away… god, how did he survive it?

When he started to lift up your shirt, you did your best to help him— the wave of cool air on your overheated skin was almost a relief, until suddenly you were freezing.  You pulled him down close to you, feeling the warmth of him even through his shirt, and sighed happily.

He helped you out of your pants next, and you should've felt incredibly strange being completely naked in your fucking cafeteria.  But you didn't, you felt better even, you felt more natural than ever as his eyes drank you in and his hands carefully parted your thighs.

"See, all this— this is your slick," he explained, dragging two fingers through your swollen folds until you jolted from his touch.  

There was so much, you'd nearly soaked through your jeans, and just one swipe had soaked his thick fingers with clear, shiny arousal.

"It's gonna help you," he continued, panting slightly as he stared at his glistening hand.  "Fuck, you can smell it, right?  It smells so good."

You could smell something, but you wouldn't necessarily call it good… it was sort of earthy and sour, not like a perfume or candy or something.  Maybe it smelled different to him, or maybe he was just attracted to it anyway.  

"I think if Mr. Maxwell was here, he'd be able to smell it— from anywhere in the building," Eddie explained.  Mr. Maxwell was the only Alpha teacher at Hawkins High… you were suddenly very thankful he wasn't here.  He certainly didn't seem like the type to go after his own student for being a brand-new omega, but what did you know?

"What would happen, if he did?" you mumbled.  "If he smelled me?"

Eddie considered that for a second.  "I… I don't know.  I think he's able to control himself."

Well, that response begged a new question: "Can you?"

You saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his gaze still trained on where your thighs glistened with your need.  "I don't know," he admitted.  "If you asked me to go now…"

He tensed his jaw, and met your gaze.

"I don't know if I could stop," he informed you sternly.  "So don't ask me to, and we won't have to find out."

You shuddered and nodded; you wouldn’t ask him to stop, not when you needed him this badly.  Not when the idea of being alone, of being away from him, made your gut sink.

Still, your heart was racing— you wondered if he could hear it, too, since it was deafening inside your own head— as he reached for you, that intimidating cock still curling up from his opened jeans.

He gripped it with one hand, petting your thigh with the other, guiding himself right up against you; your quivering cunt flexed against itself, another wave of slick leaking down to the floor under you— coating him, before he was even inside.

“Trust me,” he breathed, “trust me— please, let me do this.  Tell me I can fuck you.”

“Y-you can fuck me, Alpha, please,” you whined.

Holding on tight to your hip, he pushed his thick head inside; you were crooning and gasping already, trying to push down for more even though it was already almost too much, but his strong grip kept you still and perfectly helpless.

“More,” you begged under your breath, “god, please?  Wan’ everything, need all of you— Alpha, my Alpha…”

His tongue and lips were all over your neck, hair tickling your chest and face.  “So good, omega, you’re doing s’good, just stay still.”

It didn’t hurt until he was halfway in, and you whined loudly as you grabbed at his thigh under your own, hoping to slow him down.  He was breathing just as hard as you, hot air spreading over your skin that was wet with his spit now, sensitive from the assault of his lips and teeth.

He didn’t warn you that he was going to give you the rest, he just pushed it in all at once and groaned as you choked out your sob.

"Fuck," he said with a gasp, "I— ah, god— I didn't know it would be like this…"

And neither did you, you didn't know how quickly your pain would fade and your body would give in to him.  He was right, it didn't hurt much… there was a sting, yes, and a stretch, but it was good pain.  It was pain you were made to take, like he said.

"Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly.  You could only nod; words had abandoned you.  Well, except one.

"Alpha," you moaned, and you heard him growl beside your neck.

"I'm here, omega," he promised.  "I'm gonna give you what you need… you're gonna be okay, you're safe."

You held on tighter to his shoulders, hiding your face in his neck, and he started to move.  The stretch was so intense that your legs were shaking with every movement, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything, you wouldn’t give up this friction inside you for the world right now— it was a salve for the pain that had been clawing you open from the inside out, but just as intense as the pain had been, now you had this hunger instead.  This… need.

“Feels so good,” you heard him whisper against your ear, “fuck, omega, you feel so good inside, you were made for me.  You were made for this, I know— I know you’re mine.”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip.  As he held you close and moved inside you, time moved differently— slower, but all at once, like you were stuck in a dream.

Everything else faded away— the fear that someone would walk in, the awareness of where you were and how this happened, anxiety and confusion and pain— and you were just drowning in every sensation: his tongue laving at your neck, his fingers holding your waist tightly, his cock inside you and stretching you.  He didn’t say much at first, he didn’t need to, but when you shuddered and another wave of slick leaked out around him, you felt him smirk.  “So wet,” he praised, “so good for your Alpha.  Do it again.”

You were almost self-conscious about how wet you were, maybe you would've been if it wasn't for Eddie being enraptured by it— he was looking down at where your bodies were joined, amazed as he watched you soak his cock over and over with more of your arousal.  You could hear it, the filthy wet sounds somewhat distant and fuzzy in your ringing ears, and your face was hot— your whole head was feverish, really, and your eyes were teary just from how overwhelmingly wonderful it felt.

"Fuck," you heard him grunt under his breath, "it's so— god, how do you feel?  Are you okay?"

You opened your mouth to try to tell him that it was perfect, he was perfect, but only a pathetic moan came out; you nodded quickly instead.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.  "You look beautiful like this— so pretty for me."

A pained whine jumped out through your teeth— even though you felt good, his words brought back some of that ache from before, and your back arched up off the floor dramatically.

You were about to relax a bit and lay flat again, until you felt his hand move up your thigh, over your mound where his palm rested while his thumb brushed over your clit.  Your body jolted; you were confident you'd never been that sensitive there before.

"Alpha!" you whimpered.

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "you need to come— it's gonna help you.  You trust me, right?  Let me help you."

But the feeling inside you was already pushing you to your limits— his cock was already so deep that it felt like it was going to hit the back of your brain or something.  

He rubbed your clit as fast as he could, holding your hips steady with his other hand so you couldn't try to buck away from his touch.  You convulsed and moaned, holding onto him with all your fading strength.

“Alpha, Alpha, please!” you sobbed.  “It’s— too much!”

“No, you can take it,” he promised roughly under his breath.  “Just come for me, let go, little omega— please, let go for your Alpha, this is what you need.  You need to come for me— come, right now.”

Shivering and crying loudly, your body went limp— except for inside, where you were pulsing uncontrollably, bearing down on his thick length.  It was so intense, it almost hurt, and yet it was your favorite pain you ever felt.

You hadn’t noticed that your hands were grabbing his arm until they let go, leaving just a bit of moisture on his sleeve from the clamminess.  “Did you…?” he began to ask.  “I mean, is it better now?  It hurts less?”

You tried to process his questions, but you were still coming down from it, still catching your breath.  “It’s… it’s a little better.”

“You need more?” he asked, and fuck, it was a totally genuine question, but the way he said it…

Nodding, you pulled him down on top of you and buried your face in his neck.  “Just don’t stop,” you pleaded, “Alpha— don’t stop, m’gonna be good for you…”

It was impossible to define what compelled you to say that, but it didn’t really matter.  Your first orgasm had numbed your body and mind enough to let you just submit to your instincts, to trust not only your Alpha, but your own body and its ability to do what it was made to do.  It felt better, when you stopped worrying and accepted your place.

And no, despite what some sexists might say, your place was not beneath.  Your place was not serving, pleasing, obeying.  Your place was simply in his arms.  Your place was with your Alpha.

“I— fuck, I don’t know how much longer I can last,” he admitted lowly.  “You just… you feel so good, omega, you’re my omega, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you promised.

“Loved feeling you come on me,” he grunted through his teeth, “can you do it again?  If I tell you to?”

“I’ll do— I’ll do a-anything you tell me to,” you stuttered as you tried to swallow past the dryness in your throat from panting so hard.

“Then come,” he demanded again, renewing the movements of his thumb on your clit— but honestly, you didn’t even need it.  Just his voice, just an Alpha’s voice ordering you (as well as the overly-sensitive feeling your last orgasm had left behind) was enough to send you over the edge in just a few moments.  He praised you all the way through it, every kind word like another shock of ecstasy through your body.  “So good,” he said again, rough and deep as he rested his head on your shoulder, “so good for me, omega— feels so good when I make you come.”

You smiled through your exhaustion because it felt so good to make him feel good— to know you were pleasing him.  

"You know what's gonna happen, don't you?" he whispered.  "I'm gonna… knot you."

"Fuck, please," you choked.

"It might hurt a little," he warned, "but it's gonna— fuck, s'gonna be so good, if you just trust me."

"I trust you, Alpha," you promised.  "Want your knot, please…"

“Beautiful,” he grunted as he fucked you harder and faster, “my beautiful omega— mine.”

You whined through your teeth, clutching his shoulders tighter.  “Alpha!”

“Whose omega are you?”

“Y-yours,” you choked, “yours, Alpha, Alpha…”

“Tell me again,” he demanded.

“I’m yours!  Yours, Eddie—”

He cut you off with a rough kiss right away; you didn’t even question it.  You felt him coming inside you and your mind went blank, your body went crazy, your senses went haywire.  He was coming inside you, and nothing had ever felt so good.  You sobbed with joy, holding onto him tighter as you felt the base of his cock swelling— you already thought you were at your limits, and yet his knot kept growing inside you and you just kept taking it.

“Alpha,” you whispered with the last of your breath.

He couldn't move as much with the knot growing, keeping him buried inside you, but he still ever-so-slightly rocked your body, grinding his hips against yours.

You fell back onto his jacket on the floor with a sigh, panting so hard you thought your chest might not fit all the air you were gasping for.  Finally you felt almost like yourself again, almost lucid, though still sort of numb all over; which, considering the incredible fullness inside you, was a good thing.

You tried to adjust your hips, wincing as it disturbed the delicate balance within you.  Your bodies were interlocked now, and your returning logical mind remembered that this part might last for a while— that was the whole point, evolutionarily speaking.

“Fuck,” Eddie grunted, finally stilling completely and propping himself up on his arms above you.  You watched him catch his breath, admiring the shape of his jaw, the way his lashes looked extra long when his eyes were shut and they fell over his cheeks; you reached up and brushed some hair away from his face, and that seemed to get his attention.  “I-I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

“What?  Eddie, no— thank you, thank you so much,” you sighed, “the pain’s gone.”

“For now,” he warned.  “It’ll come back— if it’s anything like mine was.  You’ll need more… a lot more.”

You worried, for a moment, that he was telling you that you needed more than he could give.  You couldn’t imagine anyone or anything else helping you now— you needed him, that much was clear.  You grabbed a handful of his shirt, and he looked down at that hand on him before he looked at your face again.

“I’ll take you home,” he said.

“Like this?” you panted.   “What am I gonna tell my parents?”

“N-no, my home,” he corrected, and you were surprised, yet somehow you soothed at the same time.  “I-it’s not much, just a trailer, but you can nest there and I can… I can take care of you.”

Your heart was singing; you’d never been cared for before.  You never wanted to admit that you needed it.

~

You were sort of on autopilot; you’d been gathering random linens and clothes of Eddie’s and piling them on the corner of the bed.  You couldn’t say exactly… why, but Eddie explained it was natural.  At least when you were doing this, you weren’t so needy that he had to stay and hold you— he could actually go out and get some provisions for the both of you.  

He told you that this whole thing could take up to a week, but you could stay here and Wayne was going to find somewhere to crash until you were done; he told you it was going to get worse before it got better, and come and go in waves.  Most importantly, he told you that he would do whatever he could to help you.

You could hardly believe he was a near-total stranger to you this morning.  There was still an awkwardness there, especially on his part, but you felt this impossible connection with him now— you felt so safe with him, in fact you never felt safe without him.  Which was why you smiled with excitement the moment you heard his van pull up outside.

By the time he was at the door, you were already opening it for him.  “Hi,” you beamed.

“Hey,” he smiled back, a bit more hesitant.

You reached for the grocery bags.  “L-lemme help you with those—”

“Nooo way,” he denied as he lifted them over your head while he stepped past you, “let the big strong Alpha do it, sweetheart.”

The door swung shut and you thought you could swoon.  Sweetheart.  This kind of shit would’ve made you roll your eyes yesterday.  Now you were such a sucker for it, and he was just being friendly.

“Plenty of food for the next few days,” he explained as he sorted the contents of his bag into either the pantry or fridge.  “Nothing, you know, fancy, but… it’ll keep your energy up.  And mine.”

You watched him, clutching your hands together in front of you, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were waiting on.  You just liked watching him, really.

“Oh!  I got some ice packs too,” he remembered.  “You might get really hot, o-or crampy, so those can help a lot.”

“Okay,” you nodded, smiling.  He shut the pantry door that he’d been leaning behind and looked over at you.  After a quick moment, he stepped up in front of you, and you tilted your head back to look up at him; he smiled, and reached up to hold your face in his hand.

Looking straight forward, you were right at eye-level with his Hellfire Club shirt.  You reached to where it ended, just beside his black faux-leather belt, and you started to lift it up off of him.  Smirking a bit, he helped you take it off of him— you immediately held the ball of fabric up to your face, inhaling his scent.  You hardly even noticed his toned chest dotted with hair and tattoos, you were too busy realizing you’d just found the perfect final piece for your nest.

You ran to the bedroom and pounced onto the bed, stuffing the shirt in with the other clothes and things, smiling contentedly as you buried yourself in them.  A long, deep inhale filled your lungs with the smell of Alpha, and it made everything feel alright.

You felt the bed dip as Eddie climbed onto the mattress with you, and you poked your head out from your little cave.  “Doin’ alright in there?” he asked, and you bit your lip as you nodded.  “I’ll just leave you be until you need—”

“No,” you interjected quickly, grabbing his guitar pick necklace and tugging him closer.  “No, stay here… you were just gone for so long…”

“Yeah, we needed food,” he reminded you.

“But I didn’t like you being gone,” you breathed.

“I thought you were okay with it!  You said I could go,” he remembered.

“Y-yeah, but then, you know…” you trailed off.  Your eyes wandered over his bare torso, over his arms and shoulders…

When you looked at his face again, he was smiling a little, and he reached up to push his hair out of his face.  “But then?” he prompted.

“I just missed you more than I thought I would,” you sighed.

“Yeah?” he hummed, scooting up on the bed to be even closer to you.  “I missed you more than I thought I would, too.  I probably still reek of you— and your slick.”

You whimpered.  “Do I smell like you?”

“You fucking better,” he said plainly, like it wasn’t so hot that your thighs quivered briefly.

He pulled you close to him, pressing your face against his chest; when you breathed in, you got a big whiff of his skin, of the heady scent of your Alpha.  It silenced every anxiety in your mind and body, and you realized you’d never felt this comfortable— this safe— in your life.  Something instinctive told you that you were going to be protected and loved; you felt whole.

You snuggled into his arms, nuzzling at his chest, and he sighed as he kissed your head.  “You’re cute,” he informed you quietly, and you smiled as you looked up at him.

“Really?” you hummed, and he nodded.  “You’re… big.”

He laughed.  “I’m still getting used to it,” he admitted.  “All of it.”

Your eyes drifted to his chest in front of you, and your fingers drew random shapes in his thin body hair— then moved to trace his tattoos.  “What’s it like?” you asked.  “Going through all this…”

"It's… honestly, it sucks," he laughed lightly.  "It's like puberty all over again."

"Fuck."

"But worse."

"God," you whined, letting your head fall onto his chest.  "Tell me I'm not gonna have to do this alone."

His hand reached up and pet your head.  "You're not gonna have to do this alone."

Your heart hurt as you imagined him doing this alone— of course, presenting is different for Alphas and omegas, they have ruts while you have heats, but it must be similar compared to everything else.

"Are we gonna… do we need to talk about it?" he asked.

"About what?"

"About how we woke up this morning as basically total strangers," he replied.  "About how I wasn't even sure if you knew my name.  And now we… now I…"

You nodded against him.  “It’s weird how right it feels.  Like, I know I should be questioning it.”  You tilted your head up to put your temple on his shoulder, so you could look at his face.  “I know it shouldn’t make any sense.  But it does.”

“Maybe it’s always like that,” he wondered.

“Maybe,” you offered.

He kissed your forehead.  “Or,” he breathed, “maybe it’s just that you really were always supposed to be mine.”

You didn’t reply to that with words, just a shiver and an arm slipping around his torso to hold onto him tighter.  As much as it was far too romantic for anything you were willing to believe, there was a growing mountain of evidence that implied he was right— that you were his from the start.  First of all, you presented early, and suddenly, when you were close to him for a while.

His gentle kisses moved in a path down your face, finding your neck and teasing you there carefully.  “Do you like being mine?” he asked softly.  You nodded as you held onto him tighter, moaning when he dragged his teeth over your skin.  “I’m so fuckin’ lucky, got this pretty omega all to myself.  Every Alpha’s dream— sweet little cunt in heat to breed.”

He rolled you onto your back and descended on you, pressing his body weight into you, and you spread your legs without even thinking about it.  

It wasn’t as bad as the first wave, but it still made you hot and needy, it still robbed you of logical thinking and turned you into a desperate, mewling little thing beneath him.  You were too caught up in the dreamy fog of it all to even be embarrassed, to care about begging for him so pathetically— he didn’t even have to make you beg, he never teased you, he gave you everything you wanted.  Still, you were a broken record: please, Alpha, fuck me— need you, Alpha, please, please—

“Knot me,” you begged, too, and he groaned as he held you tighter.  “Please, s’the only thing that makes the pain go away, please?  Alpha, give me your knot, wanna be full—”

“Shh,” he soothed, “I know, I know, baby… but maybe— fuck, maybe I should pull out this time.”

“No, please!” you sobbed.  “Feels so good when your knot’s inside me, Alpha.”

“You could… you can get pregnant,” he reminded you thinly, even though it was sort of obvious— that’s the point of all this, biologically.  “It’s not as likely your first heat, you’re still just presenting, but… you could.”

“I don’t care,” you breathed, “just please, Alpha, come in me again, please please—”

“Okay,” he promised with kisses all over your face, “it’s okay, I will, m’gonna help you.  Just need you to come one more time first.”

“Can’t,” you shook your head, but then again, you’d said that last time and he still made you do it.

“C’mon, omega, just wanna feel one more?  You can do it,” he cooed, “you can leak a little more slick with that pretty hole, I know you can, I know— it’s gonna hurt but it’s worth it, just one more…”

You were about to tell him you really couldn't do it, that three was your official limit, even though your heat-brain hated the idea of saying no to Alpha.

"Just one more," he pleaded, "for me, sweetheart?"

And before you knew it, you were nodding and bracing yourself, letting every sensation wash over you even though you might explode from being so overwhelmed.  You didn't explode in a literal sense, but you almost felt like you did— it hit you like a train and you sobbed out his name pathetically as you tried to take it all.

His knot swelled inside you a moment later, bringing the only real relief you got from this.  Eddie seemed to think that your orgasms were the key to staving off your heat-induced delirium, but it was his that soothed your body and mind the most.

Those moments you spent forced to be near him as you both waited for the swelling to go down enough for him to pull out… those were the moments you could think clearest, but your sanity was wasted on simply laying there letting him coo at you gently, praising you, kissing your face and neck.  Those were the moments you really remembered that this was Eddie Munson, that guy in health class, a relative stranger— and everything you needed.

"Oh, it’s all messed up,” you mumbled as you looked up at the pile of clothes you’d carefully arranged on the bed, seeing it had toppled over in the heat of the moment.  You tried to reach for it to fiddle with it, but Eddie laughed softly as he guided your face to look at him again.

“Welcome back,” he greeted, pecking the end of your nose with a kiss.  “The nest can wait— just talk to me for a minute, please?”

You smiled and kissed him back on the lips— just for a second, until he held your face tighter with both hands and kissed you harder and longer.  You hummed into it, feeling him smile against you, and he finally let go to nuzzle his face into your neck.  “Your hair is tickling me,” you complained as you tried to sputter enough to get one wayward wavy strand out of your mouth, but he shook his head just to make it even worse; you giggled and turned your face away, still getting pelted with hair as you laughed harder.  “Stop!” you whined, feeling his hands hold you at either side to keep you pinned under him.

He only stopped when he suddenly rolled onto his back, holding you tight and pulling you with him— you still couldn’t separate from each other, and so you were laying on his chest and straddling his hips with your weak legs.  “I can feel it when you laugh, you know,” he told you, still smiling.  “Inside.”

You shivered, holding him tighter.  Why was that so hot?  You clenched, intentionally, to see if he’d react, and he hissed in a little breath.  “You can feel that?” you realized, and he nodded.

You did it again, and he hissed and gripped your hips.  “Don’t do that,” he warned, “unless you want me to fuck you again.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, he grinned back at you.  

“Okay, wait,” he breathed, “that was basically asking you to do it.  Just… wait until the knot goes down, okay?  I don’t recover as fast as you.”

You nodded, resting your chin on his chest and blinking up at him as he sighed and relaxed under you.  His hands stroked your back, mostly mindlessly, while you found yourself reaching up to play with his hair.  

“Are you still gonna want me around?” he asked suddenly, looking down at you again.  “When the heat’s over.”

You hesitated, opening your mouth and then shutting it again.

“I shouldn’t ask that now,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly as if frustrated with himself.  “You can’t know yet.  I guess what I’m trying to say is… if you just want this to be… this, that’s okay.  I can help you out and then we can go our separate ways.”

You swallowed thickly; he made it sound easy, but imagining it was impossible.  You couldn’t be separate from him, it would be excruciating.

“But, you know, if you wanna… go out sometime,” he stumbled over his words, “a-after this is all over, and we can leave the house again—”

“Are you asking me out?” you realized, eyes widening.

“Um,” he stalled, laughing slightly, “yeah.  Trying to, at least.”

“You’re literally inside me right now,” you reminded him, “and you’re hesitating to ask me to be your girlfriend.”

“Woah, woah,” he scoffed as he raised his hands, “I just said a date, let’s not rush things—”

You laughed and shoved his face away in punishment, but he held you by your wrists and sat up, keeping you perched in his lap as he kissed you— both of you still giggling a bit as you moved your lips together.

One week later…

"You understand why your case is so important to us," the doctor explained, smiling politely as he looked at you.  "Presenting at eighteen is rare enough, even for someone with a much higher likelihood of having ESD.  But with two beta parents… those odds make winning the lottery seem likely."

Eddie had already joked about buying some Powerball tickets, but you still weren't sure if this was all incredible luck or misfortune.  That said, you did feel better with his arm around your shoulders; he'd insisted on coming into the exam room with you, despite the exasperated nurse explaining you were meant to come in alone.  You were impressed she stood up to an Alpha for as long as she did, but she gave in eventually, and you were thankful for it.

"If you don't mind, we'd like to run some tests," the doctor continued.  "If we understand your unique case, we may understand the entire concept of dimorphism better.  Would you give your consent for our research?"

You were swinging your legs as they hung off the exam table, watching your bare feet brush against Eddie's shoes; the hospital gown wasn't enough to shield you from the coldness and sterility of the air, and you leaned harder into Eddie for warmth.  Looking up at the man in the white coat, you only hesitated a second before nodding.

"We'll need a few blood samples," the doctor enumerated as you sighed through another understanding nod, "and a cervical sample."

"Cervical?" Eddie repeated.

"Yes, from the cervix?  It's—"

"I know what the cervix is," Eddie frowned.  "How would this sample be collected?"

"Um, well, I would insert a brush up the—"

"Nope," Eddie interrupted firmly, "no, no way."

"I—" the doctor started.

"Nothing's going up anything, okay?  Nothing's going… in her."

"I understand that you're feeling protective at the moment," the doctor sighed.  "That's a normal hormonal reaction."

You blinked and stared down into your lap, where Eddie's hand was holding yours tightly, just under the plastic bracelet that had your information on it.  Name, birthday, patient ID number, and of course, sex.  You expected to see an F there, like you always had on any form or ID or paperwork.  You were still getting used to what you saw instead: O.

A normal hormonal reaction.  Does that mean it's not really real?  That it's a phase that passes, and you'll just be strangers again?

You squeezed Eddie's hand, feeling him squeeze yours back; it felt so real now, though.  You couldn't imagine life without this, even though that's exactly what your life had been until just a week ago.

"That said," the doctor continued, "she needs to make her own medical decisions.  If we feel that your presence is putting her under any duress, and therefore interfering with her right to informed consent and medical privacy, we will have you removed from the premises."

You almost wanted to see them try, three beta security guards versus one Alpha running on mating instincts.  But you shook your head and spoke up instead.  "It's alright," you interjected, "I— I don't want an internal exam, please.  But you can take as much blood as you need."

Even that seemed to frustrate Eddie, who huffed a little and gently squeezed your shoulder, but kept his mouth shut.  The doctor smiled.  "It won't be that much," he assured, "just a few vials.  And a cheek swab, if that doesn't count as internal."

“That’s fine,” you nodded.

When the doctor left to get the tools needed to draw your blood, you laid your head on Eddie's shoulder as he gently played with your hair.

"I don't think that guy likes me too much," Eddie whispered, making you smile and tilt your face into the crook of his neck.

"He's just trying to make sure you're not controlling me," you assured.

"But compared to your parents he's, like, my biggest fan," Eddie added, and you smacked him lightly on the chest as you laughed.

"Shut up," you mumbled, "they don't hate you… they're just trying to understand all this.  So am I, honestly."

One of his strong hands came up to hold your face, thumb petting your temple, as he kissed the top of your head.  Wayne had been the first to deliver the news to your parents, and you would never have enough money in your life to repay him for being the one to knock on their door and say hey, funny story, your daughter's an omega and she's currently getting her brains fucked out by my nephew, anyways see you in a week when she gets her logical reasoning back and also might be pregnant, toodaloo.

(You figured he found a better way to say it than that, but still, that was probably what they heard.)

It was a couple days before you were stable long enough to go over there yourself, Eddie close by your side the whole time, trying to explain it as best you could in a way they would understand.  They, too, had made Eddie leave to speak with you alone— even though it made you feel like you had to leave your heart in the other room— and asked you if somehow he was making you do this.  It seemed like no matter what you said, people had trouble believing that Eddie saved you, that you needed him now and that he needed you, too.

Not that you could really blame them, because it wasn't something you could put into words, either.  You just felt it.  It was basic, natural instinct.  It's like trying to explain why you eat multiple times a day or why you have to get up and walk to be able to cross the room.

You were snuggled up in Eddie's arms when a nurse came in, rolling a cart with the essentials for a blood draw on top.  You bit your lip when you saw four vials, knowing how those were going to get filled.

"Are you afraid of needles?" she asked.

"I… have a healthy respect for them," you replied, making her laugh a bit.

"That's fair," she nodded, grabbing your wrist and gently pulling your arm so she could wipe down the area she was going to prick.

You turned your face into his chest, closing your eyes, since you figured looking would only make it worse.

As she tied your arm and searched for the vein, Eddie held your head to his shoulder tightly, soothing you gently.  "It's okay," he whispered against your head, "you're okay…"

He winced almost as hard as you did when she finally did it, and you knew that this was hurting him, too.  You felt the same way when he accidentally cut his finger, or when he told you about some of the more difficult stories from his past; his pain was your pain.

"All done!" the nurse announced with a little too much chipperness as she untied the tight rubber from your arm and taped down a cotton ball to the small dot of a wound.

You exhaled slowly, and Eddie kissed your cheek.  "You did so good, sweetheart," he praised.

"That's sweet," the nurse cooed, sweetness quickly slipping into condescension.  "I guess you two are mates, huh?"

You wished you had the guts to blurt out the first snarky thing you thought of: No, he's my tax attorney.  Of course he's my mate, are you blind?

"Yeah," you offered shyly instead.

"How long have you been going out?" she asked, making conversation half-heartedly as she cleaned up the rolling cart and threw away what she didn't need.

"We haven't actually, uh, had a chance to go on a real date yet," Eddie interjected, making you wince and look down.  "Unless this counts— but I was thinking something a little more traditional for our first date than a drive to the hospital and a blood draw."

The nurse made a little face, like she was trying to be nice, not even looking at you.  "Well, that's… sweet… I'm surprised they let you back here together."

"Doctor Ali knew it was important to me," you explained quickly.

She nodded.  "You're young… everything feels important when you're that age."

"What does that mean?" Eddie snapped.

"Well, it's just that… you know, first love and all," she shrugged.

"You don't get it," Eddie laughed coldly.  "You're a beta, you could never understand.  It's different for us— we mate for life."

Your throat caught.  If that was true, it never came up in health class…

You waited until Eddie was driving you home to bring it up— but you’d been imagining asking about it ever since he said it.

"Do we really…?" you asked, looking down at your hands in your lap as you sat still in the passenger seat.  "Are we mates for life now?"

He swallowed, glancing down.  "We don't have to be.  It's not like every omega stays with the first Alpha they meet— actually, maybe most of them don’t.  But that’s how it used to be, back in the day— mates stayed together, always.”

That sounded nice; your heart beat a little faster just imagining it.

“I just…” he began, trailing off and starting over.  “I'm starting to wonder if it wasn't a coincidence.  Even if it seems pretty random— we didn't know each other at all, before— I think it happened for a reason."

You shivered, but nodded in agreement.  “I think so, too.”

"I think you're supposed to be mine."

You smiled, looking down into your lap shyly once again.  “I don’t know about supposed to, but… I know that I want to be.”

“Let me remind you, one more time,” he smirked, “that we barely know each other.”

But you knew everything that mattered about each other, and so you smiled to yourself.  “I don’t care,” you insisted.

You blinked quickly, looking at him and out the window, when you realized he was pulling the van over.  When you were parked on the side of the road, he leaned over the console and held your cheek in one hand as you looked up at him.  His face was determined, yet soft; his eyes were even bigger than you remembered.  “Do you wanna be my mate?  Really?”

“Eddie,” you sighed, “of course— can’t you tell?”

“No, I know,” he shook his head, “I just mean that if we do this— if we really do this, the whole mated pair thing— it’s just you and me, for the long haul.  Together.”

You reached up and put your own hand on top of his.  “That’s what I want.”

“And I should warn you now,” he added, “that if you let me… I’m gonna breed you.”

You shivered.  “I… I want that, too.”

He growled, quiet but enough for you to hear and gasp as it seemed to rattle through your body, as he pulled you into a kiss.  You whimpered into it, clutching at his jacket needily until he smiled at you.  “Sweetheart,” he whispered, and you shivered again.

“F-fuck, Eddie, can we…?  Now?” you asked.

“Here?” he smirked.  “In the van?”

You glanced at the back for just a split second, but he noticed, and laughed lowly in that way that made your thighs clench together.  

“You wanna get in the back?” he noticed, and you nodded, looking at him again with half-lidded eyes.  “I really don’t deserve you— it’s not fair, you know, me having the sweetest omega in the world all to myself.”

“Just take me,” you pleaded, sick of the teasing, desperate for him to make good on that promise to breed you— logic be damned.  “Alpha…”

“Shh,” he soothed, kissing your neck instead as you melted into his arms, “m’right here, sweetheart.”

---

i have an unpopular opinion but i’m scared to share it bc i know ppl r gonna get mad at me

The podcast with the Duffers talking about Eddie really pissed me off. They just really came off as if they'd put very little thought into his character other than, hey, wouldn't it be cool if...? So many things don't add up.

Like, them saying he was never going to graduate. That was just an unrealistic dream of his. For one, have they never heard of a GED? (No, but, seriously, have they??)

And also, Eddie wasn't stupid. He read Lord of the Rings. Not an easy novel to get through, and especially frustrating for those who don't read well. He tends to have a pretty impressive vocabulary. Writes out entire D&D campaigns, including maps, etc (again with the reading), and I have yet to meet a D&D DM who isn't smart and creative and incredibly detailed. He pulls percentages out of his ass for weed discounts. And, hello, it's doubtful his family had the means for guitar lessons, so he is one hundred percent self-taught. Which leads me to believe the only reason he hadn't graduated was because he didn't want to (and that's an entirely separate topic delving into Eddie's psyche that I'll save for another day). Let's not also ignore the fact that he very likely designed the Hellfire logo.

But, he had no future. And yes, yes, the whole 'but he was wanted for murder and would end up on death row' excuse. In a show where the government has multiple times stepped in to make up stories to clean up the mess from the Upside Down. Where there was zero evidence to pin it on Eddie, and, oh yeah, multiple witnesses including Steve, Dustin, Max, and Robin who could literally provide an alibi for Eddie during Fred's death??

ETA: ALSO. You can't use the whole murder thing as an excuse when Hopper, the heroic sheriff, would've been back just in time to step in and go, uh, no. Sorry. Not him.

But, seriously, Duffers. Do you think before you say any of this crap?