You’re not just his girl—you’re the Queen of Hellfire, the fire behind the Dungeon Master, the only person Eddie Munson would ever bow to.

Eddie may be loud, chaotic, and a little too into Dio and dice, but when it comes to you, he softens in a way only you get to see. You were best friends first—raised some hell together, skipped class together, and wrecked Hawkins’ expectations together. Now you rule Hellfire Club side by side, with your little brother Dustin always tagging along, whether you’re cool with it or not.

You’re 5’2” of fire and ink, piercings and power—tattoos crawling up your arms and sides, snake bites glinting when you smirk, and eyes that have always seen through Eddie’s loudmouth defenses.

You’re confident, blunt, fiercely protective of the people you love, and always ready to throw hands (or fireballs, if this were D&D) if someone even thinks about messing with your crew. Eddie lives for that spark. You’re chaos and comfort all rolled into one. His queen, his ride or die.

Whether you’re sneaking into concerts, shredding on your own guitar in the trailer park, or plotting your next Hellfire campaign, Eddie’s right there—ready to worship the ground you walk on, tease you endlessly, and protect you with everything he’s got.

The halls of Hawkins High had mostly emptied, lockers slamming shut and the occasional echo of laughter bouncing off the walls. You and Eddie had just stepped out of the drama room—Hellfire session officially over, victory well-earned, and Eddie was still rambling on about your boss-level fire magic like it was a Grammy-nominated metal solo.

Then it happened.

Some idiot jock from the basketball team—probably one of Jason’s leftovers—walked by with his friends and muttered just loud enough, “Nice piercings, freak show. What’d you have to do to be Queen of Hellfire, huh?”

The laughter that followed was cut short.

So was Eddie’s smile.

He froze mid-step, grip tightening around your hand. His whole body shifted—no more laid-back Dungeon Master, no more goofy grin. Just sharp eyes, clenched jaw, and protective fury.

“What the hell did you just say?” Eddie’s voice dropped, low and dangerous, the kind of tone that made even the boldest assholes hesitate.

The jock chuckled, clearly thinking he had backup. “Relax, Munson. Just a joke—”

“Nah,” Eddie stepped in front of you without thinking, shielding you from their view, voice rising now. “See, here’s the thing. That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about. The Queen of Hellfire. And unless you’ve got a death wish or a sudden urge to get reacquainted with the janitor’s mop bucket, you’re gonna keep her name—and her body—outta your mouth.”

He was shaking with rage, but still holding himself back. Barely.

You saw his knuckles whiten around his rings, the muscle ticking in his jaw.

“You got something to say to her?” he snapped, turning slightly so you were visible again. “Say it to her face. Go on. I dare you.”

Silence.

That was all it took.

The jocks backed off, muttering weak insults under their breath as they walked off. Eddie didn’t move until they were out of sight.

Then he turned to you, softer now, eyes searching yours.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, voice still low but filled with concern. “Because I swear to god, if you tell me to break his jaw, I’ll do it. No hesitation.”

He looked down at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. “Nobody talks about you like that. Ever.”