#kas eddie x you
Text
• FEELING EVERYTHING •
pairing: kas!vamp eddie munson x (she/her) reader
summary: so what kas saved your life?! it’s not like you owe him everything…
warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; canon divergence, enemies to lovers trope, season 4 spoilers, previous parts mentioned; sexy angst, slight suicidal ideation, manipulation, child abuse (previous trauma mentioned), toxic ass kas, sexual advances tied with a misunderstanding, hot and cold dynamics, dwugs, depression, grief, anxiety (panic), y/n count: 3, etc.
word count: ~8.9k
reblogs, comments, & thoughts are appreciated 🦇
• stories of eddie munson series • season two • previous part •
note: as always, thank you for the patience! we're almost coming to a close y'all! in this part, i tried to challenge myself to focus more on describing the visuals and the scene. let me know your thoughts! i cannot wait to read your reactions!
note to the note: my partner, who was so kind to beta-read, found an inconsistency around the border of vecna’s “new world.” you may or may not catch it. i just wanna share i am aware, and i am upset haha unfortunately caught it too late 🥲
The dried grass is rough against your shins. A sea of plains ahead that curl into waves with each blow of the wind. The orange streaked sky, a beautiful sight, now a daunting reminder to find shelter before the night. You wish you could have been here any other time. The gorgeous way the sunlight trickles onto the glossy leaves of the trees. The way the sun feels against your skin. The air just cold enough that the warmth of its rays feel nostalgic.
Eddie would have loved this. The opportunity to find civilization, as though it was some challenging quest. He would have compared it to some battle his Dungeons and Dragons character led the party into. His arms stretched out as he passionately tells the tale of how they won the fight with only a sliver of a chance. A heroic and miraculous story that only he could tell correctly.
He always told stories in a way that made you feel as though you were actually there, feeling each and every emotion. All the ups and downs. He had you clinging to the edge of your seat, clinging onto every word no matter the topic. Your heart warms at the thought of that beautiful mouth speaking a million words a second as he excitedly shares a story. God, how you wish you could see him again.
The uncomfortable scratching of the heavy grass continues to remind you that an oversized t-shirt and panties is not the ideal hiking gear. Not that you exactly had a choice. You struggle to step through the field, stumbling along with your arms held out wide for balance.
“You look like a bird,” Kas scoffs as his thick leather boots crunch against the yellow waves of the pasture. His bare chest still littered with pink scratches. He carelessly plows through the tall grass. Your eyes instinctually roll, leaving another muffled chuckle to drop from his lips. Your hands gradually fall to your side as embarrassment seeps into your pores.
“Do you even know where we’re going?” he mutters as he swats away a horse fly. Your annoyance levels have been seriously dampened with the recent events. Kas’ constant “are we there yet” attitude is not helping in the slightest. “I figure if we keep heading north, we’ll get to the highway and,” you bite your lip, tensing your brow as you point over the vast hill. “Um, we’ll just hitchhike.” You shrug, looking back at him with a weakly confident expression. His face deadpanned as he stares back at you with lack lustered eyes.
“Hitchhike?” Kas asks with a monotone. “Yeah,” you grumble in hesitancy. “Doesn’t everyone in a fifty mile radius of Hawkins think I am some satanic serial killer?” he inquires with the side of his lip pulled as he stares at you in judgment. Your eyes fall as you realize your mistake. “Well, um, let’s just find the highway first and figure out what to do from there,” you utter as you push through another bundle of grass. “Okay,” he says in a sing-songy voice as he walks off in front of you.
This is your life now. You try your best not to compare between the two - knowing that would cause you nothing but pain, but it’s hard. It’s so hard to know what you had and what you have lost, and what you have now. A small part of you wishes you had nothing at all.
With great love, comes great vulnerability and despair. You find yourself wondering if it was worth it. If loving Eddie was worth the pain of losing him. Of having his complete opposite inhabit his body and parade the fact that he is no longer the love of your life. In fact, he punishes you for thinking that, as if you could resist the urge. The agony you feel, both physical and emotional, almost pushes you off the edge. The question of “is it worth it?” echoes through your mind.
Kas looks ahead of the pairing. He notes a break in the clear pasture and sees a tree line. His eyes discern its distance, noting that it is a rather thin tree line. Suddenly, he sees motion rushing by behind the trunks. The only vehicles he is used to were filled with and destroyed by Vecna’s blackened veins, but he still identifies the motion as cars. Excitement fills his chest as he hurriedly turns around with a finger pointing at the tree line.
But when he turns, his smile disappears. He watches as your eyes are glued to the ground. Your face is solemn. The edges of your beautiful lips turned downward as your hair covers your face. The excitement immediately shifts to worry as he takes a step towards you. His hand slowly moves to your gaze, interrupting your thoughts.
As your head innocently raises towards him, Kas shoots you a comforting smile. His hands, both naturally and hesitantly, flow to the sides of your arms. You decide to shoot him a weak grin as you appreciate what he is trying so hard to do. And with that, Kas pulls you in - deeply pressured against his chest as his arms wrap around your upper back.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers against your ear. His chin finding a place upon the top of your shoulder. Such a familiar feeling, Eddie’s embrace, and yet you have another reminder of his lost presence. You want him so badly. You wish he could be here. That his true self was holding you, comforting you. Your hands fall upon the base of his spine, pulling him tightly into you. Abruptly, the sobs fall from your lips as you push yourself deeper against the warmth of his skin.
Kas knows you are hurting - who wouldn’t be after what you have been through? The thing is he wasn’t sure exactly how much pain filled your saddened soul, but once he heard those sobs - he knew. It is gut wrenching to feel your body heave against his. The pain is so much worse than the sensation of your nails digging against his skin. His hands smooth out your back as he attempts to comfort your contorting body.
Finally, you feel it. You feel everything you have pushed deep within yourself since you heard of Eddie’s passing. The pain. The anguish. The betrayal. The threat of death. The fear of death - an actual impending death - no longer one in the far off future. You lost the love of your life.
Eddie is dead.
And your heart has felt empty since your realization of this. Your knees give out and both you and Kas fall to the floor. Kneeling beside each other and still stuck in a beautiful embrace.
As tears stream down your face, Kas pulls away slightly to look at you. His brows push together as his thumb traces against your cheeks. “Sh, sh, sh,” he whispers as one of his hands caresses the back of your head. He pulls you gently and closer to his chest. His chin now resting against your hairline.
Abruptly, you pull away, sniffling as you do. You are confident you look a hot mess but you don’t care, not even a little. You wipe your nose as your eyes darken before him. He stares at you in confusion and worry. His body aching for your touch.
“You said you saved me,” you start slowly, attempting to push down the sobs that climb your throat. “That you would have never killed me.” Kas nods with curiosity as your eyes raise to his. “I-I want to talk about something and I don’t want to hear shit about it,” you spit out harshly. However, your expression immediately returns to the vulnerable girl that Kas has grown to love. It leaves a hint of a smile on his face.
“What would you like to talk about?” he asks softly. With a deep sigh, you mumble, “I want to talk about Eddie.” Kas winces at the name, something you immediately notice. Another physical pain shoots through your chest as you prepare your body for his rejection. He takes a deep breath, placing his palms to his knees as he slowly nods with eyes to the ground beneath you both.
“Go ahead,” he whispers. Your heart fills with joy, enough to completely disregard his body language. Soft sobs follow your laughter. Your hand pushes the tears away from your cheeks as he slowly raises his head. “He was beautiful,” you choke out whimpers with an ambiguous smile to your face. “He is easily the best person I have ever met,” you laugh out weakly.
A small, tight smile forms on Kas’ face as his hand slides behind your head once again. He pulls you into the side of his neck. His other hand collapsing around your crying body. “At first, I had no idea how he could be so confident and silly,” a smile emerges on your face as he wipes another round of tears from your cheeks.
“Do you remember any of his rants in the cafeteria?” you ask excitedly. Your inexperience with vulnerability attempting to make the conversation less one-sided. The smile on his face slowly grows as a low hum of a chuckle riffles in his throat. He slowly nods as his grip tightens at your waist. "I remember one distinctly about how the cafeteria stopped giving out corn on the cob," he answers.
In the midst of a laugh, you pull back to look at his face. “What else do you remember?” you ask, placing a hand to his chest. Tears now well in your eyes, as opposed to flowing down your cheeks. Kas takes a deep breath, following the press of his tongue against the back of his front teeth.
The silence flattens your grin. You lean backwards to pull your thighs and legs from his knees. The tightness and excitement in his chest persists as Kas remembers how his words impact you. How your smile grows any time he shares a memory. How his heart flutters at the sound of your giggle.
He winces, disgusted with the warm, cuddley shit that Eddie’s more accustomed to. And yet, here he is - desperate to put a smile on your incredible face. A part of him wonders if you were manipulating him. Show him a grin and he is a puddle between your thighs. He hates the hold you have over him. How your happiness makes his undead heart beat.
Kas wonders if he will ever have autonomy, or if he will continue to be a slave for others as long as his mystical life will allow. His body craves for yours, pushing his mind to find a way back to caressing your soft skin. He sorts through the hazy fog and recollected memories.
With a huff, he shares, “I remember the day you made Mac n Cheese.” He lightly taps his fingers against his thighs as he adjusts to sit cross legged. His eyes were down, but he could see you beaming off-center of his gaze.
“We were with, um,” he hesitates as he looks up. His hands quickly move around, gesturing as he speaks. “Wayne,” the name pops out eagerly from your sweet lips. An encouraging nod to follow. “Wayne, yeah,” Kas agrees slowly, pretending as though he did not know exactly who his uncle, Wayne Edward Munson, was.
“He liked you,” Kas says, lifting his brow as a smirk appears on his cheek. You laugh to yourself, feeling a warmth in your chest. “You know, Eddie - I mean - he told me that but I still wasn’t sure,” you end with a chuckle. His eyes lift to yours - those button eyes comparable to your childhood teddy bear. They always left happiness ringing through your body.
He shakes his head. “No, darlin’,” he starts. “There’s no world where you wouldn’t be on anyone’s good side.” With a slight chuckle, he adds, “Hell, I kept pushing you away and I couldn’t stay hating you.” You bite your lip, trying to hide the largest smile since you last kissed Eddie. “I am pretty loveable, aren’t I?” you ask sheepishly. With his tongue stuck to his canine, he lets out a deep sigh paired with a smile. “Yeah,” he says slyly and with a shrug. “I guess that’s true.”
Your eyes flow towards the sky, noting the bright stars twinkling above. The joy you feel is addicting. Something incomparable to the last few days. You dare not disturb it. And yet...
“There was something about your family,” Kas starts with a furrowed brow. A memory floods his brain, something he did not account for. “It was complicated. You had so many locks, to be safe - to feel safe.” Your smile dropped, but he had not noticed. His eyes pull straight, narrowing as he attempts to grab hold of this memory.
“They hurt you,” Kas lets out as a sigh, as though the realization was just then. “Why didn’t he do anything about it?” he asks in an accusatory tone. His nostrils flare as his chest rises and his back straightens. He places his sights on you. Your hands push together, sliding between your thighs. Eyes resting upon them as the sadness sinks in your heart.
“Eddie, you just don’t understand,” you say as you harshly push the tear from your cheek. “No, baby, I understand completely. What do you think my dad did to me before Wayne ran him off?” Eddie whisper yells as he points up the stairs. “They can’t keep doing this to you!” The fire fueling in his stomach is the same firing his clenched fists. How dare they hurt you? How dare anyone lay a finger on you?
“Please, Eddie, please just stop,” you mumble in between cries. Your hand pulling at his arm, creating distance between him and the stairs. Eddie could see your eyes were fixated on your bedroom door. “No, y/n,” he says abruptly. His stance fixed and firm. His eyes unrecognizable.
Eddie pulls his arm from your grasp, causing you to take a step back. But quickly, he grabs hold of your forearm. His fingers squeezing against your skin as he tugs you closer to him. His other hand lightly lands next to the assorted bruises you had up and down your arm. Gently, he raises your arm to show the purple splotches thrown against your ribs that were hidden by your shirt. He expected the surprise on your face, as he knew you thought he only saw the marks on your arm.
“Y/n, there is no way in hell that this is okay,” Eddie says through grinding teeth. Heavied breaths fall from his flared nostrils as he looks up at the stairway again. “Eddie,” you say weakly as tears run rampant down your face. “Please, you’re hurting me,” you share as you lightly push at his hardened grip.
Eddie quickly turns around with horror on his face as his eyes are met with the dark pink imprints of his fingers upon your skin. He stumbles back with his hand placed against his chest. “I-I I’m sorry,” he starts as he backs into a support beam. A small cough exists between you two as he clears his throat. His eyes watering as his chin glues stuck against his chest.
“Baby,” you crumble before him. Your hand leading your body as it lands softly against his cheek. His hand collapsing over yours. Your other rests against his sternum. “Eddie, baby, you didn’t mean it...”
Kas snaps his eyes towards you. Abruptly, he pulls himself from the memory, having seen everything he needed to see. His brows push together as his upper lip slightly pulls. “He hit you?” he asks with shock thick in his intonation. A hand reaches out to your knee.
“Excuse me?” you pull away disgusted. You cannot help but stand and look down at him. “I just,” you chuckle in disbelief, giving up further with each breath you take. Your hands gesturing with a shrug. “I wanted to be happy, remember the times when life was actually good, for once.” A scoff falls, and you shake your head. “It’s like you want me to be in pain - to suffer along with you.” Eyes looking off into the night sky, desperate to go back to that happiness. But it does not come.
Kas pulls his hand away, landing it softly against his lap. A white hot flash spreading between his nostrils and eyes. He meant to make you happy, but he remembered something. He pursued it, like he figured you would want him to. But maybe not this memory. Are there bad memories between the lovebirds?
Like a switch, his anger kicks in. An undeniable defense mechanism that he will continue to deny. “And what pain am I in, darlin’?” he scoffs. Your eyes flick up, searching for some sign of dismay in his. You find absolutely none. “God, just never mind,” you throw your head as you continue forward, brushing the thought off to hide yourself from more pain.
“No, no, no, little lady,” Kas laughs as he grabs your forearm, pulling you backwards. “We’re still talking.” The whiplash of his grip twists your body into his. His other hand quickly falls at the base of your back as he pulls you onto him. “Let go of me, asshole,” you demand brutally as you push against him. He laughs as he lets you stumble back. An ache begins to ring in your wrist.
“You want to talk, Kas, fine,” you yell at him, pushing your palms harshly against his bare chest. His stumble back is met with another condescending chuckle. “Eddie never hurt me.” You can feel your entire face tensing up. Every muscle, even those you didn’t even know you had.
“Don’t forget, I was there,” Kas mocks, pointing a finger to his temple. “You weren’t there,” you spit out. “Those are Eddie’s.” He laughs, leaning over and holding his stomach. He takes a deep breath and in a combustion of sarcasm and genuineness, he softly says, “Eddie’s not here anymore.”
Now, it is your turn to scoff. “And you just love reminding me,” you say, shame-filled. He chuckles, his head swaying side to side as he settles into his suave stance. Confident, boisterous, annoying.
“You do understand though, right?” you ask with confidence. He adjusts immediately detecting that he now has a contender in front of him, as opposed to a weak girl. “Eddie never hurt me,” you say softly. “You, on the other hand, you’ve hurt me every second since I met you,” you end with a hiss.
Kas’ lips fall into a line. His eyes raking over your facial features, processing those sinful words. You watch, pleased with his response. You soak in the pain displayed exclusively on his face without regret. “What was that again?” you exaggerate thinking with a finger bouncing off your chin. “What pain are you in, darlin’? This kind,” you end with disgust as you point him up and down.
He continues to stare at you with widening eyes. His face blank now, as though all the blood drained from it. “Let’s just keep going,” you suggest. The moral compass in your head is wavering. You walk forward, noting his lack of movement.
“Do you remember anything else about that night?” Kas calls out blankly. You turn around to face him, expecting sarcasm but seeing absolutely nothing in those dark brown eyes. “I do,” you whisper.
“Will you tell me?” he asks with his head down as he takes a step towards you. A part of you hesitates, wondering if this is just another trick of his. But you wanted to reminisce on memories. Here is your chance. “Sure,” you say in a lackluster tone. He nods, encouraging you to continue.
“It was just another regular day. Eddie came over after DND, like usual,” you shake your head as you attempt to remember. “My dad was a dick that day so Eds had to meet me at the back door.” Your eyes close as you continue, “I snuck him in and we went to my room and we were just talking about our days on my bed eating pizza.” You smile. “When we were laying down, I guess my shirt rolled up and he saw the bruises from earlier that day."
You laugh aloud, quickly pinning your mouth closed and hiding a smile. “He is the most stubborn person I know,” you share, forgetting who you were sharing with. “He wouldn’t let it go. He needed to know where the bruises were from and to see more.”
You stop immediately when you feel hot at your tear ducts. You quickly decide to keep a memory of love between you and Eddie. Another smile emerging as you acknowledge the realization that that was the moment you knew, without a doubt, Eddie Munson loved you. That he was the only person who loved you enough to care about your safety.
“I fucking caved, as usual,” you giggle. “And when I showed him, he got pissed. I’ve never seen him more mad. I saw this fire in his eyes, I saw…” your brain stops working. Your brows crunch together as your eyes fall to the floor, processing the new information.
After some time, you look up to Kas, who has been watching you continually. “I saw you in-in his eyes,” you say in awe. Kas’ flattened lips slowly flicker into a smirk.
You knew Kas? You saw him in Eddie, and you did not run. He existed before Eddie died. You know it to be true. He was there, and he was loved … by you.
Quickly, you shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the thought. You would not dare disrespect Eddie by comparing him in any way to Kas. “Uh, he wanted to beat up my dad for hurting me. I had to talk him down,” you say plainly. “He was feeling all those emotions so he-he just squeezed my arm,” you reenact the movement. “But when I told him to stop, it was like he realized he was hurting me and acted like he had control of it, like he should’ve known better.”
Your eyes fall on Kas’ once again. “He did not hurt me on purpose. He would never hurt me on purpose. And that is what you should remember,” you say clearly.
But Kas will not remember that distinction. He has better things to think about. “Just as long as you remember that you saw me that night,” he says with a chuckle. “God, you’re so damn good at making everything about you,” you throw out with a hand to your hip. “Oh yeah? 'Cause I thought it was all about you later that night?” he asks with bouncing brows. Your eyes darkened. “You remember,” you reply flatly.
“Yes, baby, I remember that night,” Kas smirks as he takes another step, like a lion stalking it's prey. “I remember when he laid you on the bed. How he traced his fingers up your leg,” he says softly as he attempts to do the same. You pull back in disgust, unsure of where this is coming from. He looks at you daringly.
“You liked it when he did it,” he huffs. “Well, what about when he kissed your neck.” He steps forward once more, hooking his arm around your waist and pressing your torso against his chest. Frankly, you were completely done with his manhandling. His lips fall upon your skin like unwanted tickles. Your elbow rests against his chest as you press your weight upon it. But this time, he did not pull away. He continues on.
“Oh, not that?” Kas asks amusingly, clearly not understanding the situation. His hands slowly trickle down your sides and to the front of your waist. “What about when he unbuttoned your pants-” “No, Kas!” you yell, pushing with all your force. He stumbles backwards with arms held out wide. His face both concerned and surprised. "No," you repeat sternly.
“I thought we were…” he trails off, slowly understanding exactly what he was doing. “No, Kas, we weren’t,” you say roughly. “Fuck, man! Why the hell would you even think that?” You push the hair from your face as you await his explanation. Kas’ held out hands slowly raise to a defensive position. “I-l I didn’t mean for any of that, we just, uh, we fight and then we,” he stutters. Wide, watering eyes. Stumbling his words as he continues to step back.
You could see him. Just like that night. Just like when he hurt you accidentally. His remorse. His horror of what he has done. You could see Eddie again.
“Thank you for backing off,” you whisper. You look up to Kas as he sucks his tongue against his gums, pushing tears back into his eyes. He hides his face form you’d “I’m sorry,” he says with a deep voice after a quick clearing of his throat. “Thank you,” you mutter. “Let’s just keep walking, okay?” you suggest, pushing ahead. Kas solemnly follows behind you - at a distance.
It was stupid to stop and talk. The sun is completely gone. That road Kas thought he saw? Yeah, that was a river. A river you both had to strategically hop stones to cross. A river you fell ass first in when you slipped on a mossy stone. His bustling laughter echoing in the emptied space, and yet you trek forward.
An odd gesture but Kas offers you his black boots. The first six times you refused, but once your feet started bleeding you decided why the hell not. They were two sizes too big and clunky things. You don’t even think Eddie would wear these, not outside of his room. But Kas? He does not have a single care in the world.
You figured that after Vecna, normal things like dark forests would not bother you in the slightest. You were wrong. You could hear him in any brush of leaves from the wind. You could feel him when you step on unexpected rocks, attempting to navigate through the tall grass. You could see him in the shadows by the tree trunks. You could smell him in the dry air.
A snap.
“What was that?” you whisper quickly. Your arms are held defensively in front of your chest as though you are ready for something to jump out. Kas looks back at you and immediately rolls his eyes. “I stepped on a branch,” he laughs. You cannot fully trust your eyes, but you swear you saw adoration in his smile as opposed to the usual condescending attitude.
You shake off the jitters, feeling prickles trace down your limbs and up your neck. “It’s cool, I’m, uh,” you say as something catches your eye on the ground. You let out a soft sigh of relief as your eyes return to his. “Yeah, I am a-okay,” you say more convincingly. You could almost convince yourself.
Kas bites his lip, studying you as you walk past him. “Are you afraid of the dark, little girl?” he whispers in your ear as ticklish fingers prance against the skin of your sides. “Kas, stop,” you stay sternly, swatting his hands away. “Seriously, though, what do you have to worry about with me here?” he scoffs amusingly. A smile growing on his face by the second as he catches up and walks beside you.
“Hm, I don’t know. Maybe that flayed piece of jerky back there?” you say pointing behind you as you roll your eyes. “We’re outside of where he can reach, there’s no way he could get us,” he tries to soothe with a smile, but immediately recognizes the thin line growing between your brows.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Kas whispers as he gently holds your wrist. He stops you in your tracks. You suck your tongue against your teeth as you avoid eye contact at all costs. “Hey,” he repeats in a deeper tone. His hands now cupped to your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Vecna cannot get us here,” he says clearly. “No one will hurt you as long as I am around.”
You cannot help but search for Eddie in those eyes. Just to see him one more time, but you know that will never be enough. Kas will never be enough. But his words help and you are able to take a deep breath.
You nod, and he slowly drops his hands from your face. “Thank you,” you murmur. The word is now way too common in both of your vernaculars. Kas walks off with a smile, not turning back to look at you, not even once.
Staring at the glow of the moon, you would guess it had to be at least 4 or 5am. Not that you would even really know what to do with that information gathered from this view. All you know is that you are getting tired, and the night sky is changing from pure darkness to a deep gray.
“Ok, I know last time I was wrong, but I’m pretty sure that’s an intersection,” Kas mumbles as he points forward. Your head snaps, following his gaze, with widening eyes. Your palm lands softly at your forehead as you quietly scoff in disbelief. Do your eyes deceive you? A honk of an 18-wheeler confirms your wish. You turn around with hands up in excitement. He chuckles at how big your eyes have gotten. A hand covering his growing smile.
“That’s a car, Kas, that’s a fucking car!” you scream. You rush through the trees, trying your best not to slide atop of the wet leaves. Alas, you ram your torso against the trunk of a tree in excitement as you watch the scene unfold before you. The pain is unnoticeable.
The street lights illuminate like auras against the misty fog. The wafting smell of cigarettes fleeing the convenience store. The blinding shine of headlights wrapping around the corner every few seconds. Honking, dings, spitting, ringing, a musty old muffler - finally, people.
Not once would you have ever expected the joy of finding people again, and yet here you are. You just needed a fresh look at how shitty the alternative is to know that reality is at least 1% shittier. Hope fills your chest as you take a step forward, only for Kas to pull you back.
“What?” you bark at him, pulling your arm away. “Take a good look at yourself, darlin’. You really want to walk up to that gas station like that?” Kas says with a point as he nonchalantly leans back on a tree behind him. You look down at yourself, remembering your lack of pants, Kas’ ratty shirt and his stocky boots. You take a deep breath as you softly say, “I guess you’re right.”
He stands up, almost immediately, which draws your attention. A smirk growing on his face. “What did you say?” he asks with a leading tone. You roll your eyes recognizing his intention. “Must not have been important if you didn’t hear it the first time,” you murmur with a grin.
Kas slowly walks towards you, making your grin beam more and more with each step. “Oh, I heard it,” he says softly as he leans in closer to you. “I just wanted to hear it again,” he whispers and pulls back. You push against his chest with a laugh, leaving him with a chuckle and a raised chin as he peers down at you.
“Okay, Kas, if we can’t go down there, where are we going to go?” you ask sarcastically. Kas smiles, moving his head to its side. “Oh, sweet girl. I know exactly where we’re going,” he murmurs. Your face deadpans as you watch him confidently strut down the hill and next to the street. “Wait, what do you mean?” you call after him. Rushing to follow him, you slip but Kas was able to hook his arm around you before you landed against the dirt and dust. He relinquishes his hand, faster than you expected and it leaves you confused.
“You see that street? Hudson Ave?” he asks, pointing up at the street sign. You watch him with a perplexed expression, unsure of where he was going with the conversation. “Yeah?” you answer confusingly. “I know Hudson Ave,” he shares, looking back down at you. “We’re by Lover’s Lake.”
You take a deep breath of disappointment as you wipe your palms against your face. “I thought we were closer to the school than that,” you sigh. That would mean at least another 5 to 10 miles before being able to collapse into a bed. “Sounds like we need a place to stay for the night,” he says with excitement, as though he already knew the answer. “Yeah?” you ask again with squinting eyes.
“I know a place. It’s safe, closed off, no one’s gonna be there,” Kas adds with a bit lip and slow nodding. Your face is emotionless as you watch his encouraging eyes. “How far is it?” you ask.
“Kas, you didn’t tell me we were breaking into the place!” you ask with a worried, hushed tone. Your back stands behind Kas’, covering him as he hunches over to pick the front door’s lock. Your eyes scanning for any sign of life as the sun begins to rise over the patch of forest.
Arms are crossed against your chest, attempting to gather as much warmth as possible. “Yeah, I don’t tell you a lot of things,” Kas whispers to himself. A tongue stuck between his lips with pressed brows as he focuses on the clicks within the lock. “Almost there,” he leads.
One click and his smirk grows to an unbearable size. He turns to you with the utmost confidence. You pull your eyes away in an attempt to avoid looking at his sweetness. “Okay, we get it. You’re a badass,” you mumble, quickly moving into a whine. “Common, it’s cold out here!”
Kas chuckles to himself, almost a hum that vibrates within his chest. You could feel it too, in your own, that leaves a spark of something familiar. You push it away, deep within your stomach, refusing to acknowledge it.
“Alright, alright,” Kas brushes off. “I’m hurrying.” With a twist and a push, you were in. The room was dusty. The air was stagnant. Your face showed everything, all your thoughts on the place. Completely disgusted by the state of the place. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself.
“It’s, uh, it’s cozy,” you whisper as you take a sharp breath. Half drunken beer bottles are left piled in the sink. A bra of unknown origin rests strung against the top of the couch. A rug, if you were so kind, rests tattered and torn throughout the room. A spindle of its fabric lays beneath your foot.
The only pristine thing in the place is a glass cabinet filled with different variations of bongs. As much as you would like to deny it, the sparkles catch your eye. A brown glassed stem filled with peace signs - you imagine it to be at least 10 years old. Another looked like the yellow smiley face that has spread across the world in the past few years - you enjoy that one. One shaped like a dark blue toilet bowl - you are not too keen on that. Lastly, a pipe with a bowl painted like R2-D2 - that might have been your favorite.
Before you knew it, you were standing right before the glass. Admiring the collection. Kas walks behind you. A cool whisper against your neck, “Can you guess where we are?” You shudder at his breath, but a piece of you welcomed his proximity.
“A dealer,” you say matter-of-factly, as you turn to face him. “Rick’s, right?” You knew he wanted to throw you off guard. He pulls back and slowly nods as respect fills the room. Of course, a respect that did not last very long.
“Then you must’ve known that this is where he stayed,” Kas mumbles carelessly. He carefully and judgingly picks up an opened bag of Fritos with his thumb and index finger off of the coffee table. Nuggets of weed organized perfectly upon the surface. Crushed green resting within a silver grinder.
Eddie most definitely was here. You try your best not to let it show on your face, but you wondered if this is where he radioed you. Did he sleep on that disgusting ratty couch? Was that the last place he ever slept? You make your way into the kitchen, careful not to show your haste. Opened tin cans of corn stacked in a pyramid stare back at you. His last meal? A pot is barely balanced on the stove’s burner.
Despite the rush of emotion in your chest, you smile at the thought of him cooking. Eddie was always a mess in the kitchen. You are honestly surprised that he did not leave the gas on. Memories of burnt pancakes and hardened spaghetti fill your taste buds.
He may not have been the best chef, but he made up for it. There is nothing like watching him and that messy bun. Flour on his face as that familiar tongue sticks out while he’s focusing. An apron somehow already covered with syrup, even though there was yet to be any pancakes. His shirt cut off at the sleeves with strings of fabric comfortably against his biceps.
Watching him in that moment, you saw your future. A future filled with laughter and messes. Dancing in the kitchen. Finally, feeling safe - safe in his arms. Maybe he would even make you feel safe enough to give him a little one when you were both older. The world deserved another Munson, another Eddie.
But just like the rest of your dreams, this one will never come true. Another future ripped from your grasp. A happiness you had only a taste of and will never see again. And somehow, you are supposed to be okay with that - to keep moving on. Especially now that there’s some super villain dickwad that wants you dead.
There’s no time to stop and grieve, like you thought. Part of you wishes you could, but another is thankful. Truthfully, you are afraid of what your life would look like if you truly let yourself feel everything. Feel your loss. It would not be much of a life, not after you get your revenge.
Take one step at a time, you remind yourself. Vecna’s death is and should always be the highest priority. How do you kill him? How do you ensure that you are the final blow? What are his weaknesses?
“Darlin’,” Kas whispers. He has been watching you silently as you stand in the kitchen. His intention was to catch you off guard with the information of Eddie’s stay. And he did just that but yet, no enjoyment in the act. What typically brings him happiness, his fucking with you, is not hitting the spot anymore.
He now worries about you. He worries about you constantly. He hasn’t stopped since that night in the diner. If he is honest with himself, these feelings would track all the way back to the night he first saw you.
Kas lays a careful hand against your shoulder. Your head quickly turns to look at him. A shock coursing through your body. “Let’s get washed up,” he suggests softly. You nod, but a slow smile grows upon your face. His expression turns inquisitive as a chuckle leaves his throat. “Dibs on the shower,” you scream as you rush up the stairs. He watches you run and instinctually follows just as quickly behind you.
You both playfully bump into each other as you struggle up the narrow staircase. As you manage to get a two step advantage, Kas grabs onto your ankle. You lightly fall against the wood as he scoots past you. “Fucker!” you giggle as you run to catch up to him. Bouncing off the walls, you push against his shoulder. You gain the advantage as you burst through a door.
Immediately, you are horrified by the sight. A tossed around bedroom with bright orange carpet. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the mirrored ceiling, which then led you to the cheetah print sheets. Your lips part as your jaw hangs open.
“Oh my god,” you whisper as Kas finally catches up. A laughter erupts beside you, but you cannot pull your gaze away. “Oh yeah,” he jokes in your ear. “Reefer Rick’s got bangin’ taste.” You push him away from you with a sneer.
Beyond the disturbing clash in colors, you see a sliding door that leads to a balcony. The wood is of a greenish tint. Ivy covers its banisters. An old copper-rusted chair rests in the middle of the panels. A heavily used bong, tinted brown with tar, rests at its very edge.
But despite all that, the view is incredible. There is no denying it. A gray and purple fog resides just above the black water. You could actually see the sun’s rays refracting within its dense mist. Sights like these have always made you feel better. There is nothing like Mother Nature to make that debby downer within you disappear.
“Shower’s over here,” Kas says as he leans against the threshold bathroom’s threshold with crossed arms. You smile, turning around, and walking into the room. “Didn’t think you would actually respect a dibs,” you share. Thankfully, Reefer Rick seems to have better standards for cleanliness in the shower. You are pleased with its state. “Oh, I can’t mess with the dibs gods,” he scoffs incredulously.
After noting which knob is for hot water, you realize that Kas is still standing beside you. You turn around to him beginning to unbuckle his belt. “What are you doing?” you ask with a nervous giggle. He pops his head up from his hands. His mouth in a thin line.
“Um, getting ready for our shower,” he answers. “Our shower, huh?” you giggle. “Oh, what? I thought you liked taking showers with your men?” he says as he leans in to you. His hands drop his buckle as his belt rests open at his waist. You struggle not to draw your eyes to it.
You quickly recover and smile. “You remember a lot more than you’re letting on, Kas,” you say under your breath. “First of all, there are no men. Only Eddie, and you’re not him, right?” you ask with a leading tone. “So, I’m going to take this shower alone.” You point towards the shower curtain behind you with a smirk.
Kas smiles with a shrug. “I guess I’ll wait my turn,” he says lightly. “Great call,” you whisper. Almost retaliatory, he unbuttons his black jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly. Teeth digging into his bottom lip.
You try your best to keep your eyes on his, but you are clearly struggling and he knows it. He loves it. The smirk growing on his face by the second. A hint of blush to his cheeks. “I’ll just be out here, sweet girl,” he soothes. His own thumb pointing back into the bedroom as he slowly walks backwards.
An undeniable, unstoppable grin beams across your face as you close the door. Fuck. The thin wooden barrier gives you enough space to consider the wild things rushing through your mind. How you wish you could just pull those jeans down, get on your knees, and make him forget that Vecna never existed. How you wish you could have dragged him into the shower with you. How he could make you forget that your pain even existed with those hands of his.
You need to cool down. Quickly. Dragging your palms down your face, you walk towards the shower. You turn the knob for cold water, leaving a slight bit of heat to settle in. You slowly raise your arms, attempting to take your shirt off, but the pain hit you like a truck. You wince at the feeling. Immediately, you hear Kas knocking. “You alright?” he asks. You laugh, “Yeah, Kas, I’m good.”
It feels so damn good to take off that ratty shirt. To take off those panties. To take off his oversized combat boots. With a deep breath, you step into the shower. The rush of the freeze was shocking, yet comforting at the same time. The feel of the water splashing against your scalp and running down your temples, cheeks, and chin.
You reach for the soap and are immediately presented with a conundrum. You debate whether or not you should rub it against your skin. You wouldn’t imagine your body being any less dirty than Rick’s bar of soap, and yet, you hesitate. With a shake of your head, you rub the soap against your hands and then lather the suds upon your body.
Feeling the sensation against your skin, you cannot help letting in the trickling thoughts of Kas. The sensation of his hands on your body. His finger tips pressing against your aching muscles. Fixing all your pains. His palms exploring your waist, making their way up your torso and to your breasts. You think of Kas. You wanted Kas.
As you step back, your calf bumps into a bottle that clunks onto the bottom of the shower floor. The abrupt loud noise echoes through the air. A burst of adrenaline fills your chest as you startlingly fling yourself against the tiled wall. The scuffle of your movement is heard from outside the bathroom.
Deep breaths heave against your diaphragm as you slowly slide down to the base of the shower. Rushing cold water hits harshly against your skin. It causes your hair to glue thickly against your face. You can’t breathe. You can’t. You just can’t.
Kas knocks once again. “Darlin’,” he calls out but you don’t answer. You can’t. You were stuck. Stuck against the ground. You could not move. If you moved, you had no idea what would happen. You were safe, barely safe in that shower. Don’t leave that spot. You can’t. You won’t.
He slowly peeks open the door. “Y/n,” he calls out but you are silent. You hear him walk closer. You can see his shadow against the blue mildewed curtain out from your peripherals. He opens the shower curtain to see your arms wrapped around your knees. You were in a tight ball, as tight as you could manage, shuddering in the cold.
“Shit, baby,” Kas hushes. He quickly turns the knobs, adding more warmth to the water pouring against the crown of your head. Without thinking, he hops inside the shower and crouches behind you. His arms tightening around your shoulders. “You are safe,” he whispers. “You are safe.” The words falling naturally, almost scripted.
With the added pressure, you can feel your heart rate slowing. You naturally place your hand against his forearm as he tightens his squeeze. You have not felt this in some time. Your eyes close as slow breaths enter and exit your lungs. The silence is comforting. A reminder that nothing is actually happening. Reality is currently safe. You are safe in Kas’ arms. Your body can calm, can take in the cues of relaxation in this warm shower.
“I am safe,” you whisper as you lightly land your forehead against his forearm. “You are safe, darlin’,” he murmurs. His head laying against your shoulder. And there you both rest. You naked in his arms. Him drenched in his jeans behind you. A tightening embrace underneath a constant stream of warming water.
Dustin has never been the same since that night. He knows his friends are worried about him. That they freak every time he disappears for an hour or two. But they wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t understand why he needed to visit him. How he would talk to him, even though he wasn’t there.
He couldn’t even manage to radio Susie back anymore. It didn’t feel right to be happy with Eddie gone. He avoided it, avoided happiness like the plague. He avoided his friends, his family, his mother. He grieves in solitude, unsure of when he will ever be done.
Every day since, Dustin made the trek to Lover’s Lake. To that spot in the woods where Steve, Nance, Robin, and Eddie went to Watergate. It is the closest he can get to Eddie. To remembering him. To wishing he was still there.
After a few trips back and forth, Dustin could make his way there without the compass - not that the compass was that helpful anyway. He would bring his backpack filled with old DND books, some of which were filled with “Munson’s Property” in thick sharpie. Sometimes he would run his fingers over them, hoping that Eddie was there too.
He would talk about the campaigns he wished he could play with Eddie. The one’s he knew the party would have a great time with. He would reminisce about when Eddie said he was “grooming him - grooming him to become Hellfire’s president. To be the Dungeon master. To be him.
That is all he could ever want. Well, that and Eddie being alive.
Another day and Dustin still sits upon his stump beside the lake’s shore. Seventeen rocks still scattered across the dirtied sand. He counts them here and there, ensuring they remain the same number. That everything remains untouched, like that day. But the fog was thicker today.
He could see the purple flecks within the gray mist. He appreciated when it was foggy. It meant he didnt have to think about the gang getting attacked in the middle of the lake. It meant he didn’t have to remember watching his friends and being helpless as they all dove into the dangerous waters. How he watched two of his heroes go in the abyss and never come out.
Sometimes Dustin wonders if he will see the canoe floating out on the water abandoned one day. Or maybe he’ll find it on the shore somewhere. Maybe there’s something on it? A piece of Eddie, something he left behind. He wanted to venture out but felt glued to this stump. Glued to looking out into the water and hoping Eddie might just come out from the fog.
Or maybe something will come out and take him. Take him far away from all this pain. Dustin was at his lowest, and yet he could only imagine going lower. Permanent reds to his eyes as tears continue to fall. It is his new norm. A new world without his big brother, without the person he looked up to the most.
Dustin heard a branch snap behind him. He turns, hoping it’s not Mike or Lucas trying to drag him back to the Wheeler’s, to his mom. He is surprised by the emptiness of the woods. How it reflects how he feels inside. He assumes the noise to be due to an animal. A sigh and he’s turned back around to the lake.
Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of something odd. His head turns to the structure to his left - Reefer Rick’s. “What a shithole,” he mumbles to himself. He places his elbows to his knees as his palms carry the weight of his chin. A light turns on, clear and bright within the fog. Enough to pull his attention back to the building.
Dustin stands with furrowed brows and a need to investigate. Cops were his first thought. Maybe they were still looking for Eddie, or maybe Rick broke out of the jail? Rick did have a tendency to do that. Although, they would always catch him seeing as he would just go home to smoke more dope.
He walks up closer, trying to get a better look, and catches a glimpse of something on the balcony. Another side step and he tries to look past the tops of the trees. There were no beams of flashlights bouncing around the windows. Maybe it wasn’t a raid. Maybe it was more of Jason’s lackeys? Still looking for Eddie, and yet - they’ll never find him. Or maybe they’re looking for Jason? They won’t find him either.
But who Dustin saw walking out the balcony made his blood instantly run cold. He was frozen, stuck in place, with a jaw dropped and shaking hands. The person is pale with black, wet, stringy hair resting at his shoulders. A familiar stance and posture that Dustin knew all too well.
Large, healed wounds wrapping from his lower back, across his side ribs, and a bit of his front. A familiar spider tattooed across his chest. The figure had a white towel wrapped around his waist. He is looking out - looking out into the lake. Just as Dustin was.
His heart starts pounding. In an unrecognizable world he now finds himself in, he finally sees the one he has missed so dearly. “Eddie,” falls from his lips like a whisper. As though it was a secret that was never meant to be spoken. A secret that only Dustin knows. The hope that he might be back, that maybe he never left.
Before his mind could register, Dustin’s feet were already running around the battered house, faster than he thought possible. His bag and compass left hastily by the shore. He stumbles trying to find his footing against the worn wooden steps as his fist crashes against the front door. All the excitement pumping through his body as he hears steps grow louder behind the door.
It opens. And Dustin feels everything.
note: hi, katrina here. i didn’t feel like it would work in the story (timeline wise), but i wanted to share that i most def wanted eddie to go up there and beat her dad’s ass. let me know what you think, please? ♥️
next part • posting 07/15 at 5pm pst •
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• nav • no-no plagiarism • series • requests open •
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson x reader#eddie fanfic#Eddie munson#stranger things fanfic#strangerthings#kas vampire eddie#kas eddie munson#kas eddie x you#kas eddie x reader#Eddie Munson smut#eddie munson slow burn
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IT WILL COME BACK (E.M.)
"honey, don't feed me - i will come back."
summary: when eddie came back from the upside down, he was different. and you finally come to realize just how different the man you saved truly is one night, when push comes to shove.
pairings: kas!eddie munson x reader
warnings: mentions of BLOOD (in sexual manner), mentions of BITING (in sexual manner), allusions to possible coercion (consent is still explicitly stated - trust me), mentions of death and trauma, mentions of eddie's canon death, taking a lot of creative liberty with expansive vampire lore across all media, mentions of murderous dreams? (eddie dreamt about killing reader idk), oral (f receiving), smut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY.
wc: 7.7k+
a/n: i told y'all i'd write a serious biting/blood kink fic one day - today is the day. very lazily edited so beware.
When Eddie came back from the Upside Down, he was different.
There were subtle changes at first. Small, minute details that were easy to ignore. Everyone could turn a blind eye to them — everyone figured they would fade once the boy healed. His healing was first priority, and whatever lingered after could be dealt with.
Get Eddie better. Then question all that lingers.
A simple plan. A genius plan. A torturous plan.
The two of you had been friends, if you could even call it that, prior to it all. Teasing in the hallways, working on school projects here and there when in shared classes, he was your favorite (and only) dealer when you craved something to make sleep come just a little bit easier. He had been familiar — an old ghost you'd grown comfortable with, long before you’d seen those large and wet eyes looking back up at you in the boathouse.
Long before he’d pieced together the puzzle pieces as to why you’d needed the weed to cancel out the nightmares. Long before he’d processed exactly what those nightmares entailed.
But then, you’d fought for him. You’d fought with him. And most importantly, you’d bled with him.
God, you had bled for him.
Something admirable had blossomed in that short time. Eddie’s entire life had fallen apart, thread by frayed thread, and that new planted emotion had been the only solid thing to emerge for him to absolutely cling to. You were more than a fellow classmate to pass by in the hallways. You were more than his favorite customer, always weaponizing fluttering lashes and puckered lips for a discount he’d have given you regardless.
You were a force to be reckoned with, and had ignited a hunger in him like no other.
That’s all he had thought it was when he’d awoken in his living room — not the distorted version but the real one — to you screaming for the others to help you as you’d sealed his wounds. That’s all he had thought it was when you’d come to visit him as wounds turned to scars, and stabbing pains turned to hungering pangs. So he had tried to bury it, listen to Harrington and Wheeler and Buckley when they told him to take time to readjust. He’d locked away that hunger and focused on his healing, just as everyone else had, and told himself it was just residual feelings.
Residual feelings had been bound to happen after seeing someone bloody their hands, with your own blood, for your survival.
And in his burial, he’d never considered a similar hunger igniting somewhere deep within you.
You visited far more often than you should have. Returning time and time again to change his bandages, taking on one too many shifts at the hospital during his unconscious spells and baring your teeth for anyone who got too close. The sweet blood on your hands hadn’t washed away in that first shower; you swore, if you looked closer, you could still see the stain of nearly losing him across your knuckles.
Physical wounds were easier to heal than the internal ones. It was easier to lather on antibiotic lotion than it was to sleep soundly at night. Both of you came to realize that quickly in the weeks that followed Eddie’s return from the dead.
His nights were plagued with bad dreams, with thirst and cravings he couldn’t quite name. He’d wake up, burning up from the inside out with a fever that never existed. Tearing skin. Puncture wounds. Blood spilling across floors and his lips alike. He could never tell if the shivers that traced his spine had been from the cruel visions that had become his nightly visitors or if it was due to his perpetual drop in temperature that had worried Nancy since the very first night home from the hospital, that had concerned the nurses who piled blankets atop him during his week long sleep of recovery.
Your nights were even less kind. Horrific memories were the demons that haunted you — remembering the way you had watched Eddie cut that sheet rope, remembering finding him bloodied on the ground, remembering the warmth of his blood seeping across your palms and how when your ear had turned just as heated with it as you pressed it to his chest. Only to hear nothing. Emptiness.
His heart had stopped for minutes. Plural.
It had been your steady rhythm, your desperate hands and your gasping breaths breathing into his lungs. You’d sunk your claws into him, caught them right between his ribs and had decided he couldn’t leave you.
Some nights, when you wake up screaming, you can still taste his blood on your lips. You sometimes still swore that when you’d checked for a pulse after that, you hadn’t heard anything. Still worried that Eddie Munson’s heart never really restarted and resumed beating.
The worst was when you’d stare through the faded grey of mornings plastering across your room’s walls, and could still remember that initial look in his blown out pupils, once honey brown swallowed in pure black as he’d taken his first breath on his own.
Hunger.
You’d felt it, too. Shame riddled you on the nights you’d come down from the nightmares and remember it; it was as though the Universe had snapped back into place the moment you’d watched his chest first rise. A need so ardent to remain at his side. A chain clicking into place, binding both yourself and Eddie to one another, unaware of just what price had been paid to keep the boy that had laid under you in this world. Unaware of the hunger you had struck the match too that would become both your downfalls.
And so it had been buried. Something alive, even with your doubts of Eddie’s liveliness, and choking on dirt while six feet under. You and Eddie, two sides of the same coin, had decided to not speak of it. He never told you how he had come to be able to pinpoint your heartbeat in every shared room he entered, throat burning as his gaze always settled on you, and you never told him of the matching aches that had shamefully sparked within your chest and between your hips for him.
A hunger to be near one another. A hunger to devour. Neither of you really understood the heaviness.
“How are you feeling today, Eddie?” Steve asks as he sits on the edge of the new bed in the new apartment in the new part of town the Munson men now occupy.
Government money could go a Hell of a long way. Especially after your home had been devastated by the aftermath of alternate dimensions and unheard of evil being defeated.
“Fine,” is the only response Eddie can muster.
In reality, every time anyone came near him now, he burned. His throat tightened till it was surely raw, he swore his teeth sharpened until a mere slip of his tongue against his canines could bring the taste of metallic blood to his mouth. His entire body would tense with every person that walked through his door.
Control. Whatever was happening to him, Eddie needed to exercise control.
“Just fine?” Steve continues on, not catching the drift as he puts down the bag of things he’d bought at Eddie’s request. Basic things — painkillers, packs of cigarettes, a 6-pack. Some habits die harder and can’t be controlled, “You look like shit, Munson.”
“Gee, thanks, Stevie.”
Everyone had assumed the dark shadows beneath Eddie’s eyes would fade. They assumed his cheeks would eventually fill back out. They assumed he could wash away the ashen shade his hair now flatly flowed in. It was as if the life had been drained from Eddie since that day, and they had all assumed it would eventually flow back into him.
It never did. Just as his new hunger lingered, so did the look of Death.
“Sorry, man,” Steve throws his hands up, shrugging a bit before he stands, “Just being honest. It’s the best policy.”
“Is it? Is it really?”
If honesty was the best policy, Eddie could have filled the room with it. He could admit about the nightmarish wants, needs, he’d been keeping at bay. He could admit the way his irritation had been growing this last week every time another body, another friend, walked through his doorway and it wasn’t you. You, who had begun to plague the night terrors. You, who Eddie was beginning to crave far more than he had before he’d stared the afterlife down the barrel of the gun.
Steve just looks at Hawkins’ newest zombie boy, sighing, “Look, I don’t know what’s got you pissed off-“
“The whole dying thing, for starters.”
“-or why you’ve insisted on being an asshole to all of us these last few weeks-“
“Again, I died.”
“-but you’ve got everyone but me scared to visit you. We’re all scared of you biting our heads off, dude,” Steve finally finishes with a scowl.
Everyone. It’s unspoken that you’re included in the generalization.
It occurs to Eddie that maybe, just maybe, he should be kinder if he ever wants the ache of yearning to see you again to fade. If that’s what he could call this ache.
By the time Steve has left, Eddie’s still thinking about his warning. About the way he had been unusually cruel since coming back to life, since waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed. It made sense initially. But he wasn’t handcuffed to a hospital bed anymore — he was home, or as close to home as he could get, and he was technically safe.
The issue was that he’d accepted his safety. Everyone who had wanted Eddie Munson dead was now six feet under themselves. No, the bigger issue at hand was everyone else’s safety.
Your safety.
Once he’d realized you were the staring lead in his violent fantasies, he had stopped calling. Half of your absence last week had been his fault.
No one really bothered to look deeper into it. Steve didn’t press as to why Eddie’s fridge had remained empty, Nancy didn’t take second glances at the odd books on vampire tales that were now littering all the free real estate of Eddie’s room, and you hadn’t questioned the coldness of his tone whenever he spoke to you. The chill of his words had grown icier than his own palms, desperate to keep you at arm’s length until he figured out what had changed in him that day he came back to life.
He wanted you near. He wanted to rip your throat out. He wanted your blood to stain his mouth and neck just as his had stained your hands. That was an issue. That wasn’t normal.
Something had changed in Eddie Munson, and it had terrified him to his twisted core, and no one had cared enough to notice. Not yet.
–
It took you two weeks to be fed up with the radio silence.
Eddie stopped calling even Jonathan (the only one of the group he found he didn’t want to devour whole, as it turns out). When everyone had mentioned it in passing, it had only reminded you of the sleepless nights you’d be enduring. That small voice in the back of your head that had called out to you in the dead of night, the whisper of come to me that echoed all the way across a broken town.
Come to me.
Sometimes you swore it was Eddie’s voice calling to you. Sometimes, you nearly left your own new apartment in the dead of night, and let your legs guide you to the undead boy you had single-handedly revived.
Tonight was one of those nights. Your stomach was twisting, your head was pounding, your bones were aching. Every single inch of you hurt as it listened to that soft calling, and at some point, you gave in.
Hunger. You were insatiable with the need and drive to be at Eddie’s side. Warnings from the others be damned.
One thing leads to another. You find your coat, you find your car keys. You find yourself driving the deserted streets of Hawkins in the middle of the night. You find yourself on the Munson doorstep, knuckles shaking and aching with the knowledge that just beyond the wood of the door, he was there. You don’t have to see him to feel him; his thrumming presence, his anchoring existence.
Come to me.
The door swings open before you get the chance to knock. This string tying your two souls together is not a one-way channel, it seems.
“Why are you here?”
You watch him wince as the harsh words leave him. Immediately, you know that the abrasiveness is on instinct. Just as something claws inside of you to be near him, there is something within him howling to keep you far from him.
The polarity of two magnets. Some nights, surely, his twists in a way that would draw him to you, just as yours will twirl with the sensibility that whatever has changed within him should give you cause to run as far away from him as possible.
But tonight, your magnetism only yanks you closer to him. He doesn’t even invite you in, and yet, you find yourself stepping over the threshold of the new apartment.
“You’ve gone quiet,” you whisper as an answer. It’s not what he wants to hear, grimace deepening, nearly a scowl now, “I just… It’s been weeks. I…”
I missed you. I needed you. I heard you in my dreams and I’ve never had much self-control when it comes to you.
Magnets are a useless metaphor for whatever is happening here between you. A better comparison would be the cliche image of a moth to a flame; he’s dangerous, threatening to burn you alive, and you still find your heart fluttering after him hopelessly. You’re going to get scorned, and you’ll still never learn. You’ve fallen victim to a tired narrative that you’d rolled your eyes at in a plethora of books. How many times had you sworn that wouldn’t be you? Just how many eye rolls had you exhausted at the mere idea?
And now, here you were, on his doorstep. Grasping for something you’re not sure either of you can give.
“I’ve been dealing with a few things,” he mutters as he shuts the door behind you, shielding you both from the chill of the night. The room is still cold, especially in his radius, “Didn’t think it would make much of a difference.”
“You didn’t think I’d care if you just stopped calling?” you turn slowly, taking in the state of the living room. Wayne was clearly gone for the night, work most probably, and several books littered the coffee table. Eddie had been the one reading them, lounging on the couch.
The last time you had seen him, he couldn’t even sit up in bed on his own.
He’s keeping an unusual distance, nearly leaning back out of your vicinity, “Figured you were busy.”
He’s never been this short with you. His words are choked up, his body tense with pain. You assume it’s just his injuries bothering him.
You couldn’t be more wrong, but you’re completely unaware.
“I brought you back from the dead, and you think I’d still be too busy for you,” you laugh humorlessly, fully in disbelief at his pitiful excuse, “Eddie, we could find out Vecna didn’t really die, those damn cracks in the Earth could open right back up, and the first person I’d care about finding is you.”
The animal inside that had been yearning for his presence is satiated for now, but you can still feel it lurking in the darkest depths of your mind, ready to call out a new request at any moment. It’s the distraction that has you spilling pathetic truths.
The only response he offers you is a dead stare. With eyes wide, pupils nearly swallowed up by darkness.
“You could have called,” your voice cracks, body shaking with the effort not to take a step closer to him, “You could have just let me know you were still alive.”
“I-”
He cuts himself off when he’s the one taking a step closer. His entire face twists with pain, and you give up keeping your distance. In an instant, you’re at his side as your hand reaches out for his bicep.
He flinches away. Something inside of you burns.
Your hand is hovering in the air between the two of you, and in this lighting, you swear the skin is still stained with the blood that won’t wash away.
“Please don’t,” he begs, “I’m fine, but… please.”
You don’t know what he’s begging for. Distance, for you to pull your hand away, time – you don’t know what he needs.
“We should sit down,” you insist, finally pulling your hand as far from him as possible but making no move to put the space back between you two, “Has anyone helped you with your bandages? If your wounds got infected-”
“They didn’t.”
“If you didn’t change the bandages, they definitely could have-”
“They’re not infected,” he grits out, but he’s still walking over to the couch regardless, “They’re healed.”
Healed.
Mere weeks ago, those wounds were still deep enough to keep you from ever achieving a full night's rest. Deep enough to worry you to the core that you would wake up to them finally having consumed him. Deep enough that you all assumed it would take him months, not weeks, to recover.
“What do you mean they healed, Eddie?” you whisper, almost reaching out for him as he sits down.
Your hand twitches, but the echoes of his begging and his flinching keep it at bay as you stand before him.
“I mean, they healed,” he huffs, nostrils flaring as he takes deep breaths. He’s looking anywhere in the room but at you, his gaze subverting you with purpose. As though the mere sight of you, the mere proximity, is painful to him, “Don’t know how, don’t know why – they just did.”
“So why are you still in pain?”
A sharper intake of breath. A hush of silence falling over the apartment. Even the buzz of the building’s AC unit has faded from all your senses. It’s just you and him, and a heavy quietude like no other.
Until he finally breaks the surface tension, breathing out, “You.”
Your heart drops. That tug inside your chest, the one taut as you look at him right within your reach yet still so far away, almost snaps.
“Me?”
He nods with a harsh swallow, “I- Look, I can’t explain it, but when I came back, I came back…”
“Different?”
He doesn’t have to explain it. You’d felt it.
The moment his eyes had opened, just moments after what should have been blissful victory. The taste of his blood heavy on your tongue, a terrible sweetness that had choked you rather than its initial metallic twang. The whispers of his voice in your mind.
He wasn’t the only one changed from whatever had occurred that night.
“Different is a good way of putting it,” he nods, looking up with apologetic eyes, “It’s not you. It’s cliche as fuck, but it really isn’t – it’s me. I died, and you brought me back, but I don’t think either of us knew the cost.”
The yearning. The nightmares. The unmanageable needs. The hunger.
“What was the cost?”
He almost doesn’t hear you. Your voice is a whisper, tone weighed down with the curse of knowing.
You might not have known the cost when you were pressing your palms into his chest through your wretched sobs, functioning as his heart and lungs for nearly a minute, but you think you might have a clue now.
All that had been tethering you to him since he’d come back to you, all those webs and strings that had formed their knots around both of your necks. He’d changed, and you had plummeted right into the chasm of the unknown with him.
His blood on your tongue, sweet as honey.
Blood shouldn’t be sweet.
He grabs one of the books off the coffee table, motioning for you to join him on the couch. Under the weight of your realization, you’re nearly under a trance. All he has to do is wave a hand, and you follow.
You’re at his beck and call. Just like you had been when he’d been calling out for you, yearning for you.
“Don’t make me say it,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the book into your lap the moment you’ve sat down. This time, you’re mindful to keep your distance.
This time, you’re painfully aware of the compromising situation the two of you have found yourselves in.
The book is older, leather-bound and worn from years of readers’ careless hands breaking the spine. The corners of every page are weather, close to disintegration. The entire thing could easily pass for a Halloween decoration.
It’s not. You flip open to the title page, and if Eddie didn’t appear so deathly serious at your side, you would have scoffed.
“Dracula?” you question carefully, running a finger over the delicate script of the title, “Eddie, I don’t-”
“I’m not insane,” he interrupts you, “I’m not fucking- I swear to you. I’ve gathered up every goddamn book about it that I can. Fictional, nonfictional. Just- there’s obviously a Hell of a lot more fictional material to work with, okay?”
A vampire. He’s convinced he’s a vampire.
And even worse – you’re convinced right along with him.
You turn your head to look at him, trying to find the right words, but all you find is Eddie burying his face in his hands, head nearly hung between his knees.
“I can’t eat normal food anymore,” his voice is muffled, “That was the first sign. Couldn’t stomach it, made me throw up for hours when I tried. And then all those nurses kept talking about how I was healing faster than they expected. Most of my smaller cuts – those healed in under a day,” he finally lifts his face just enough to turn and peer at you through all the stray curls that fall into his vision, “My vision and hearing were the next things I noticed. Remember how I had a nonstop migraine those first few days?”
He doesn’t need to convince you, but the argument is compelling, “It… wasn’t a migraine.”
He shakes his head. “Not even close. Just turns out that it’s a killer to get used to fucking superhuman night vision and impeccable hearing. I still can’t handle being out in the sun very long. I don’t… burn up or any of that shit, but… it just…” he trails off, shoulders falling in defeat before he throws himself back against the couch. When he continues, his tone is flat, devoid of all emotion, “I keep having these dreams about you, too. Bad dreams. Terrible dreams.”
You shut the book, toss it back onto the coffee table, and decide to Hell with keeping your distance.
You need it. Even if he’ll only allow you to get an inch closer to him, you need it.
“What do you mean by terrible dreams?” you ask, breath catching at the end of your question as you scoot yourself closer on the couch. Even with such a small movement, Eddie is quick to notice, eyes flicking to you quickly with a sense of urgency flashing behind them.
“Don’t,” he lowly warns.
“What’s happening in your dreams, Eddie?”
Another inch closer. His jaw clenches.
“Sweetheart, do not-”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. Your knee bumps into his thigh, and you watch him go rigid. Hands turning to fists, eyes pinching shut and face twisting with the same pain he’d worn the ghost of when you first arrived at the apartment.
The moment you touch him, you see it. The flashes of his nightmares, all those terrible actions haunting him every time he closed his eyes. You. Your blood. That hunger.
Like a blackhole in the center of your stomach, it burns viciously as it sucks the air out of your lungs. It threatens to cave your entire being into itself until there’s nothing left. Not even a crumb of who you once were.
But it's not yours. It’s Eddie’s.
That pain on his face is only exhibiting a fraction of what he was feeling. That dizzying craving that he’d miraculously been keeping at bay since you’d simply entered the building, not even yet knocking on his door. You hadn’t even been in the same room as him yet, and he had still known. Had smelt you, had felt you.
He could almost taste you.
“You…” you have to shift your knee away from him, break the touch, break the connection, “You haven’t fed since you woke up.”
“I haven’t fed, period.”
With the connection severed, he somehow finds it in himself to open his eyes once more. You don’t know how – if he’s feeling what you’d just been privy to, you’d be an incoherent mess on the floor. Something feral and unrecognizable.
Although, maybe he was nearly there. You couldn’t see his pupils. That same look when he’d first woken up – a man swallowed whole by hunger.
“You’ve been dreaming about ripping my throat out,” you say it as a matter of fact, not a lick of judgment in your tone.
It wasn’t you scrutinizing him. It was what you had seen, with one simple touch.
His voice is hoarse as he echoes in confirmation, “I’ve been dreaming about ripping your throat out.”
You should probably be afraid. All your survival instincts should be kicking in, your feet should be carrying you towards the door, you shouldn’t be leaning in closer.
“You know what really sealed the whole vampire ordeal though, sweetheart?” he breathes out, your eyes fluttering shut at the lull in his hushed tone.
Just as you’ve been leaning in, he’s been slowly turning his body to face yours, hands twitching at his sides. He’s no longer retreating from your presence, sucking down breaths in harsh gulps the closer you grow to him.
He’s losing control. You’re losing control.
That thread, vibrant red as it draws you near him, is clear as day now. A noose around your neck. A road to your damnation.
A road to your hunger.
You hardly hum in response, completely entranced now. Had he ever been capable of this before? Of holding you beneath such an inescapable spell with such ease?
Probably.
He doesn’t use his words to answer. Instead, he finally takes the plunge.
His head ducks down towards your neck just as his hands lose the war, grabbing onto your hips, dragging you dangerously close to him until his lips hovered just over your pulse point. And by some strength that you certainly don’t possess, he stops there. Letting his lips barely brush against your soft skin, breath coming out in pants for you to feel, to relish, to get lost in. And just as soon as those pants, those waves, become a comfortable pattern to succumb to, you feel them.
His fangs.
Grazing over your sensitive skin. Sharp tips nipping at a surface they could so easily break, pierce with one wrong move. Your pulse is thrumming beneath the surface, heart racing painfully as Eddie’s grip turns bruising.
Come to me.
“Please.”
You’re the one begging now. It goes against every rule you’ve ever seen applied in fiction. If a vampire is baring their fangs against your neck, you should be reaching for a stake. The only noise escaping you should be a scream for help, not the pathetic whimpers beginning to slip out.
“I can’t,” you feel his gasp more than you can hear it. Your blood is too loud, roaring in your ears as you feel the fangs slip with his words, “I can’t.”
That hunger you felt, the one that had called out to you through the night and led you right to his doorstep, is unavoidable now. You need him closer, you need him to do this. For the first time since you had saved his life and tasted his blood after the Upside Down, everything seems to click into place. All he needs to do is let them sink into you, take that final leap of faith and reprieve that ache you’ve battled for weeks now.
You’re so close. So close.
“Eddie, please,” you’re nearly sobbing, hands gripping onto his shoulders, trying to pull him in closer.
But you’re no match for his strength. You don’t know if it’s a new addition with his vampire business or if there was always more to him than met the eye, but he easily stays stoic against your attempts, not moving a centimeter. Still hovering, still just barely making contact with your heartbeat.
“I-” his head drops slightly, tip of his nose beginning to trail down the side of your neck, mouth no longer dangerously close, “You saw my dreams-”
“I trust you.”
You do. You trust him even more now than you had when you first stumbled upon him in the boathouse. More than when he had pleaded his case, promised he hadn’t been the one to kill Chrissy Cunningham. The trust comes easier than breathing as his nose nuzzles into the junction of your neck and shoulder.
“You shouldn’t,” he mutters, fangs now brushing your collar bone, “You really, really shouldn’t.”
He doesn’t stop you when you move to straddle his hips. Your weight settles onto his lap, and he only fights to keep his face burrowed there in your shoulder, arms now moving around your waist to hold you tightly to him.
His self-control is impeccable. You’d admire him and all this impressiveness another time, when something inside of you wasn’t lamenting his resistance.
All at once, it occurs to you how to give him the final push.
“Did I ever tell you how sweet your blood was on my tongue after I brought you back?” you start, sighing, rolling your shoulders to expose more of your neck, grip on his shoulders tightening, “All that blood, all those tears, and I still can’t forget how welcome that warmth of you was in my mouth. How I needed more. How I pictured it every night, after every nightmare-”
He breaks.
One moment, his nose is buried in your skin. And the next, his fangs are.
You weren’t sure what to expect, but relief would have been low on your list. You gasp out in initial shock, but as you feel his teeth dig in, it’s as though something has snapped. The ache has been satiated, preening as you feel the warmth of your blood contrast the chill of his chin pressing into you.
If there’s any pain, you don’t feel it through the haze of pleasure.
Ice shards spread through your bloodstream, but the point in which Eddie’s mouth is connected to you radiates heat. He’s pulling you into him, letting go completely and relinquishing all that control as he nearly purrs against your skin in satisfaction. That connection is back, two minds linking with a heavy click, and you can feel all his pleasure mingling with your own. Satiation, desperation, adoration – the plethora of emotions all swarm your head and block out any better judgment.
You’d let him drain you dry, if that’s what he needed. If nothing more than to hear those soft moans as his fangs sink even deeper.
He pulls back too soon, though, suddenly and unexpectedly. Just as quickly as he had given in to both your desires, he’s putting an end to them. He hadn’t taken much blood, but your head is swimming from the loss all the same. Your grip has gone slack on him, hands slipping down to just barely cradle his biceps while his own touch stays unyielding around you.
You can hear his thoughts. Or rather, maybe more aptly put, you can feel them.
He wants to devour you. Wholly, ruthlessly.
He looks up at you with pupils still blown wide, chest heaving and a small scarlet drip trailing from the corner of his mouth. For the first time since he’d come back to you, he looks alive. Hair fluffed in a halo around his head, skin tinted with a healthy glow and unmistakable blush, bags beneath his eyes faded for the time being.
You were never quite sure if Eddie Munson’s heart had ever restarted, knew for certain that it hadn’t now, but you swear you can feel its pulse finally thrumming for you.
I need more.
It’s his voice in your head, echoing in the empty space as you look down with wild eyes to match his.
But it’s your voice in his head when you respond instantaneously.
Then take it.
Something unspoken lies there in the need. He doesn’t move back to your neck, doesn’t bite down and drink his fill of your blood. He only stares for a few seconds, watching the welt of blood that pools from each puncture wound of his making. His eyes follow when it runs down your skin, as though he might lose it should he so much as blink. Down, down, down. Following the trail that his nose had followed minutes before, across your collarbone until it stains the neck of your loose shirt.
My pleasure.
His hold proves helpful when he quickly changes positions, roughly throwing you down onto the couch before he’s settled between your thighs, crawling his way up your body. He pays close attention to the maroon trail on your throat, his tongue cleaning up after his mess, savoring the taste of you on his tongue.
Sweet as honey.
His tongue only pauses for a moment over the bite wound, pressing into it, making your back arch as you press yourself fully into him. Your head digs painfully into the cushion behind you as you expose your neck, wanting and begging and pleading all without words.
“I think we should take this off,” he plucks at the hem of your shirt, tugging hard before he begins to carefully lift. His freezing knuckles brush against your burning skin, eliciting a whimper from you, “Before we make an ever bigger mess. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?”
A sultry tone you’ve never heard from him before. Honeyed words, familiar to how he once spoke, but entirely new in the way they curl around you. There’s a confidence there, a baiting that he’s luring you with.
“Yes, please.”
He could ask anything of you in this moment, and you’d be eager to comply. Fueled by your desire for him before the events of spring break, worsened by his new condition. A bright, red, vibrating thread. You couldn’t severe the tie if you wanted to.
And you most certainly did not want to.
Your shirt is removed, his hands careful despite the way they shake. His words may be smooth, but each move is jagged, the only sign you had that he’s still exercising control.
“And these?” he whispers, lowering his lips to your sternum as he toys with the band of your pants. His fangs scratch down the center of your stomach as it quivers with each breath, careful to not break skin as they make their presence known. You nearly lose all capability to speak until he says, “Use your words, baby. Tell me I can take them off.”
Yes.
His eyes flare, looking up to you, “Use your words. Not your mind. I want to hear how badly you need me – I want everyone to hear you beg.”
The words strike straight to your core. Lashing out in your lower stomach, burning deliciously.
It’s more than putting on a show. He needs to know you want this.
“Take them off,” you gasp out, hands wandering to tangle in his hair, “Take- Take it all off. I’m yours, Eddie.”
Shaking hands perform a dance you had long since fantasized about. In easier days, when Eddie had been uninvolved in the episode down, heart still beating along as he would bounce his knees in front of you and his fingers would idly fiddle with his pencils and pens. A yearning, a wanting, you’d always held for the boy.
He used to be an escape from it all. A pretty thing to daydream about when you weren’t worried about monsters. And now – he was one of the monsters.
Your monster. Tied to you inexplicably, brought back by your hands and your stubborn efforts.
His lips and fangs are one in the same, trailing along your body as he finds a home at the apex between your thighs. Even in undeath, he’s the most beautiful thing your mind could conjure.
You’d forgotten how he was privy to your every thought until he reacts.
“You’re too sweet,” he murmurs, smirking salaciously as he mouths innocently at that sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tongue darting out to lick a cool stride before he breathes out against it. It has you writhing beneath his hold, “You’ve wanted this all this time, sweetheart? Wanted to see me, between these pretty thighs, making you scream my name?” His mouth falls open a bit wider, the sharp canines pressing but not sinking against where he had just licked. He holds there, eyes locking with yours, until he pulls back to cockily say, “Could’ve just said something, y’know. Didn’t have to bring me back from the dead to have me devoted to you.”
Finally, finally, he lets his fangs sink back into you. The soft meat of your thigh is more pliant in his mouth, and he doesn’t linger as long as he had on your neck. One nick, just enough to start the blood flow, before he’s pulling back and licking hungrily at the scarlet liquid. Less for feeding, more for marking.
Marking you as his, just as you have with him. His methods just appeared a bit more physical.
He’s quick to avert his focus on your cunt, no warning before the tongue still covered in your blood is taking long strides over your entrance and clit. Devotion. That was the only word to describe the way he was unraveling you, alternating between indulging in your sweet cunt and returning back to that bite, going as far to even sink his teeth in a second time to take a proper drink of you. His chin and lips grow slick with it all – with the blood, with your wetness, with his own saliva. A starved man with a feast before him.
The way he’s rutting his hips into the couch as he slings your legs over his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed.
It’s a mess. A wonderful, satisfying, enchanting mess.
Beautiful. So beautiful, all mine.
His voice has you teetering on an edge of new carnal pleasure. Completely consumed by him, your hands tugging viciously at his curls. His face is round once more, eyes and cheeks no longer sunken in, vitality being breathed into him with each taste of your blood.
Let me touch you. Please.
You beg over that connection, trying your best to not buck your hips mercilessly against his tongue. You feel his wicked grin.
“You’re already touching me, sweetheart,” he reaches up, untangling your fingers from his hair for emphasis before he’s pinning them to your sides, “And what did I say about using our words? Hm?”
“Need more,” your voice is wrecked as you tilt your head back, wrists straining against his hold, “I need more.”
You’re fully light-headed now, the blood loss finally catching up. Maybe you were about to let him drain you dry.
And what a beautiful way to die. At the hand, at the fangs, of the one you had fought so urgently to bring back to you.
One last timid lick to the wound on your thigh, and he’s crawling his way back up to you. The mess doesn't phase you as he kisses you hungrily – the blood remains sweet rather than metallic, the remnants of your juices still on his tongue – and you meet him with an unbridled fervent. Nipping at his lips with your own dull canines as if you were the one looking for a bite of vivacity.
You don’t know when he lets go of your wrists, or when your hands find their way up beneath his shirt. The specifics don’t matter once he’s naked before you, clothes discarded messily to the ground with your own. The only thing that matters is the weight of him, the reminder that he was still here as his hips roll into yours and the head of him catches on your entrance.
He had been dead. For minutes. And you had brought him back to you.
The process had taken longer than the mere CPR administered, had taken weeks of whatever waiting game you two had tortured yourselves with, but you had him now. He was yours. You were his. There wasn’t a deity, a monster, an omniscient being in this world that could take that away from you. Not even Death herself.
“Last chance, baby,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up so that not a single inch of his skin pressed to yours. You nearly cried out, missing that connection, missing him. Your hunger, the hunger for him entirely, rattles your bones once more, “Say the word, and I’ll-”
“No,” your hands pause their exploration of skin jagged with scars. Reminders of those few dreadful moments in which the world existed without Eddie Munson in it, that would fade in time but never fully disappear. Always there, just like the stain of his blood on your palms. Always there, just like your desperation to have him at your side. “I meant it when I said I’m yours. I’m not changing my mind. I want this.”
His skin is back on yours, body laid fully along your own road map, and it all comes flooding back. The pain of seeing his lifeless body, the nights spent in an eerie hospital room, baring your own teeth at any one who came too close to the man you had pulled back from the ledge of Death. The anxiety, the fear, the relief, the yearning – it all accumulates as he’s pressing into you, brimming you so full that there’s no room for memories of nightmares.
He’s here. He’s yours. You’re his.
His heart didn’t need to beat for you to accept that truth.
You can’t decipher which chants of your name fall from his lips for others to hear, and which ones whisper in the depths of your mind for only you to bear witness to. Each curse, each grunt, each moan – there for you and only you anyways. You’re entirely unsure if your lips even separate once as he thrusts, cock brushing somewhere deep in you that has you clenching around him.
And if his fangs wander, it only adds to the pleasure.
Blood, sweat, and tears all mingle between your bodies. He’s holding you tighter than water, as though you’re at risk of disappearing from him at any given moment. But that link between your two minds, your two souls, is unwavering. It’s the only thing grounding you to the moment as your half curls around his waist and your heel digs into his lower back. Urging him, pressing him, taking him.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says it out loud, this time. You feel his lips brushing against your ear as he does, “Gripping me so tightly. This pussy was fucking made for me.”
Every movement only unlocks something more feral inside the two of you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red lines to trace over once it’s all said and done. There’s enough shallow bite marks across your neck that you’ll be wearing scarves for weeks, months. The others might question it, strangers might stare, but the pride you feel as he marks you is unmatched for any anxiety about it.
That black hole of hunger is no longer swallowing either of you whole. That debilitating pain, that animal inside, has been tamed.
When his hips begin to stutter, mouth no longer capable of the strength to properly bite you as his lips only smear the soft spattering of blood pooling at the base of your throat, you’re already there. Squeezing him tightly, sucking him in, voice raw as you let everyone know who’s ravishing you.
Eddie.
Hawkins’ newest zombie boy – Hawkins’ newest vampire.
The climax is just as pleasurable as the lead up. The haze lingers long after his spent has dripped out of you, long after he’s collapsed into your body with exhaustion and contentment. The blood dries, the wounds clot – but that haze doesn’t falter.
As long as his skin presses to yours, you feel that caress of his mind against yours.
“Did…” you’re breathless as his face nuzzles into your nude chest, a few mindless hums of gratification still slipping from him as you bring a hand to toy with the curls at the crown of his head, “Did any of your vampire books say anything about… that?”
The connection. The bloodlust. The spell you swear he still has you under, even as it’s all said and done.
He snorts against your skin, “Not that I, uh, recall.”
“What? You mean to tell me in all your research, you never dived into any vampire smut?” you tsk jokingly, a calm smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He lifts his head, and you swear, those honey-brown irises have threads of a deep maroon now, “You’re slacking, Munson.”
“Why read about it when I can just experience it?” he coos, letting his nose and lips drag across your still hot skin before he rests his chin on your sternum, “Besides, I mean – we’ll need to do this again, won’t we, baby? For research.”
Your head still spins. Your body aches in a welcome manner. There will be a need for explanations to others, for actually researching his condition, later on. But for now, it’s enough.
The pounding behind your ribcage, the one you know Eddie feels for the both of you when his ear presses to your chest, is enough.
Of course, lover.
That thought stays between the two of you. The world doesn’t need to know what can’t hurt them.
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#ghost's stories#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#kas!eddie munson#kas!eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#reader essentially became soul bound to him womp womp#don't drink a vampire's blood kids#i really didn't edit that intensely i spent two hours fucking with photoshop#if it's bad it's bad#finally dipping my toes into kas!eddie tho wahoo#vampire!eddie munson#someone requested eddie with this song forever ago but i lost the ask#eddie reading dracula to figure out if he's become a vampire is actually so fucking funny to me
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you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)
entry for my fall frenzy requests.
this request comes in from @edsforehead:
'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'
a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.
tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!
October 31st, 1998
Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars.
The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out.
"Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.
"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.
"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"
"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."
"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it.
"How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups.
"They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work."
"How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.
"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."
"Five years now, isn't it?"
"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."
Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.
Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."
"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.
"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."
"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight."
You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.
You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.
It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.
You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.
You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed.
You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky.
You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.
You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.
A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.
"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"
You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.
"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.
"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."
You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.
"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"
"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."
"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."
"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."
"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."
"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."
"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"
"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.
"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."
"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."
You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.
"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"
"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."
"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."
You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."
"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."
"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you.
"Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice.
"You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"
"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."
"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.
"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."
You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.
At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.
At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.
"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."
You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.
"Those rumors are true."
The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips.
You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?
You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.
With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.
You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.
Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up.
On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."
You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.
When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.
You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.
Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.
Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.
"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer."
"Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"
"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."
"B-but--"
"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."
"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"
"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."
"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."
You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.
"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.
You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.
"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.
Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette.
"Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.
His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.
"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.
His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.
His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.
"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."
You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.
"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."
"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.
He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.
"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."
Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.
"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."
You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window.
Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo.
His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.
"You were saying?" he asks.
"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.
"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.
A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.
With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.
"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."
There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.
He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.
Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim.
Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."
You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.
You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips.
"More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."
Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."
Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.
The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.
"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.
When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.
"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod."
He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."
Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.
He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down.
Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery.
“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.”
You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:
Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.
"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.
You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then --
Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.
He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.
"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.
"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.
"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."
He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you?
"Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."
When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."
He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."
He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.
Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.
"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."
"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."
You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside.
"Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.
When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes.
"There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"
"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.
"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.
Can finally fuck you how I wanna.
He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.
Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."
Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it."
"Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.
"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."
He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.
"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine."
"Say you need me."
"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.
He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.
"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."
His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.
"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."
You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks.
"Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."
"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.
His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.
"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."
The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.
That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.
He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully.
Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?
The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision.
"That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."
Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.
You wake, you’re not sure how much later.
Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head.
You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere.
“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.”
“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?”
He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?”
He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.”
“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?”
Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?”
You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.”
He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow.
He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on.
You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you.
He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch.
“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before.
“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears.
Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough.
“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.”
You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.”
“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.”
“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.”
He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly.
“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.”
“You’re disgusting,” you spit.
“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.”
He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death.
“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.”
“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily.
“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”
You sniffle in response.
“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.”
He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.”
“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.”
Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper.
“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge.
“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.”
He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.”
Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat.
“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.”
He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes.
“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story.
He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you.
“And I’ll tell you something, babe…”
Fading, fading, fading.
“He tasted divine.”
masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#kas!eddie#kas!eddie munson#vampire!eddie munson#vampire!eddie#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fan fiction#tw: dubcon#tw: dub-con#dark!eddie#dark!eddie munson
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DIMPLES DIMPLES DIMPLES
#eddie munson#joseph quinn#stranger things#stranger things vol 1#stranger things 4#eddie munson stranger things#the hellfire club#joe quinn#eddie deserves better#netflix#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie as kas#eddie in s5#corroded coffin#stranger things volume 2
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Eddie, not knowing he's projecting into Steve’s head because he's still figuring out his powers, and he doesn't really know he's connected to Steve. He's hanging out with Steve and Robin, unable to get his mind off of how good Steve looks in his brand-new jeans. Suddenly, Steve screams.
"What? Is it another migraine?" Robin asked.
"No! I can't seem to stop thinking about my own ass!" Steve shrieks.
"Well, look at the time, I've got to get going. Ever since I came back from the dead, Wayne has got me on on a curfew," Eddie yawned and started to leave. "Goodnight!"
Yeah, Eddie figured it out.
#stranger things#stranger things s4#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie ficlet#a baby ficlet if you will#vampire!eddie munson#kas!eddie munson
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Steve’s best relationship wasn’t even a relationship. He could barely call it a fling, a flirt. They never even went on a date. They never kissed.
Steve still thinks of it as the best whatever-it-is he has ever had with someone.
At the beginning it was mostly infuriating, how quickly Eddie managed to win the kids over, compared to Steve’s months of work as babysitter/nailbat swinger/monster fighter. Steve had to literally bleed multiple times to get an ounce of respect, Eddie only had to run a nerdy club about fictional bleeding and monster-fighting.
Then somehow, and Steve still has trouble pinpointing when and how it happened, everything changed.
Taking the kids back home from hellfire became something he impatiently waited for.
He and Eddie would barely talk for a few minutes and he would find himself replaying the conversation in his head for days. Anything he could say to get a reaction out of Eddie became fundamental, and if he started by picking subjects to piss him off, he ended learning about Eddie’s favorites, because few minutes after hellfire were never enough and Steve needed Eddie to talk as much as possible, until the kids were begging to drop it and go home.
Steve never questioned the change, most likely out of fear. He doesn’t think he ever was clueless, just really scared about what would potentially mean to be staring at another dude’s eyelashes as he goes on a rant about why Ozzy Osbourne is the best artist of his generation. Or blush whenever said dude would call him “baby”, or “sweetheart”.
Steve convinced himself that the thing he and Eddie were having was as good as it was going to get, nothing more.
Then Chrissy Cunningham died, Eddie ran, and Steve realized that the thing will never be enough for him.
He couldn’t not have Eddie. Not watch him as he entertains a bunch of freshmen, as he stomps with his worn out sneakers on top of forniture, as he puts his terrible music on to push away anyone who doesn’t care enough about him to stay.
Steve needed to see Eddie being alive, doing what his heart desires, and he needed to be next to him when he does.
Obviously, this realization came at the worst possible time.
Steve tried to tell him so many times: when they found him at the boathouse, when he was hiding at refer Rick’s house, when they were taking a stroll in the upside down, and even when they were driving a stolen trailer to a gunshop.
But, it seemed, Eddie had come to a realization just as important and he tried his best to avoid Steve at every given chance.
Steve tried to initiate the conversation as Eddie did his best to run away from it. And he ran until Steve had no chances left to tell him how he actually felt.
———
Steve doesn’t know if he’s allowed to say he lost something he never had. To mourn a relationship he never began. A partner that, technically, never became a partner.
After Eddie dies, Steve has no one to be next to but he can’t say he ever did.
Steve just exists waiting. He can’t tell if he’s waiting for the pain to go away or for Eddie to jump out of a bush and yell “ah! I got you sucker!! By the way, I’m in love with you too.”
For obvious reasons, that never happens.
What does happen, is a call.
It’s a normal Tuesday, as normal as you could define it after Hawkins almost collapsed into the upside down. Steve got into a routine, between checking on the ones at the hospital, helping out at the shelter, allowing Robin to check on him to see if he’s still alive.
The call happens while Robin is doing her kitchen check up - aka making sure he has food and that he’s eating it-, so she picks the phone like she did a million times before.
“Harrington residence, this is Robin” she says, cheerfully.
Steve doesn’t pay much attention to it as he’s folding his dad’s old clothes that intends to donate to the shelter, until he hears Robin’s loud gasp.
“What is it? Is it the hospital? Is it Max?” He rushes to the other room where Robin is.
She doesn’t answer but she gives him a look as she passes him the receiver.
Steve goes quiet, a million thoughts going through his head as he takes the phone from Robin.
He’s still unprepared when he hears that unmistakable voice “Baby”.
Steve gasps for breath “Eddie?”
Is that really you? What happened? Are you hurt? Isn’t this impossible? Is what goes on in Steve’s head, but he ends up just asking “are you okay?”
He can hear a chuckle, Eddie’s wicked chuckle, a further confirmation that it is him, “I’m- hanging in there… are you okay?”
Steve finds the question absurd. He isn’t the one who got left in the upside down, the one that got eaten by demonic bats, the one who died before Steve had the chance to tell him how he felt.
He answers truthfully nonetheless, “I’m… I’m not okay.”
“I’ll be there soon, I promise.”
“Please Eddie, come quick.”
“I’ll break the sound barrier for you.”
#if you can’t tell#im in my RWRB era#if you watched the movie then you might like this?#just felt inspired honestly#that ‘baby’ lives inside my head rent free#also Kas Eddie we always love to see him#basically Eddie and Steve got close during the school year but Steve realized his feelings only during the events of season 4#Eddie dies but comes back#because this is the only way I can cope with it#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve and eddie#stranger things#steve x eddie#platonic stobin#robin buckley
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pushing up daisies - e.m.
kas eddie munson x fem reader
treat me bad like i’m no one's daughter,
body bag, baby, i’m a goner…
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: ANGSTTTTT, mentions of eddie’s death and the upside down, canon divergent (reader is chosen as vecna’s last victim instead of max), established relationship, soft!dom eddie, biting/blood drinking, lil bit of jealous eddie, public sex, unprotected piv sex, cream pie
based on love is a… by pvris
word count: 2.9k
a/n: this is honestly something i am so incredibly proud of, so i hope you all enjoy it. a big thank you to my babes @undead-supernova @strangerstilinski and @lokis-army-77 for helping me with parts of this fic, i love you all so much 💕
The sky was dark, storm clouds rolling in as you trudged through the rusted gates of Hawkin’s memorial cemetery.
Only the booming sounds of thunder and your labored breathing filled the morning air. Rain droplets poured steadily onto your head, dripping down the collar of your rain jacket. The clothing seemingly useless as the heavy rain soaked you to the bone.
The wild daisies clutched in your fist were beginning to wilt as your eyes scanned over the sea of headstones. Your throat tightens once you find his, now wishing that Dustin had been lying to you.
The words BURN IN HELL FREAK were still visible, despite the male’s best effort to clean them off the previous day. It had been less than a week since the funeral, but that was plenty of time for someone to vandalize his headstone. You hated this town.
Reaching the now desecrated grave you sigh, gently running your fingers along the top of the headstone. The rough edges scraped against your fingertips as you knelt down in front of it. Letting your hand fall into your lap, glancing down at the sad excuse of a bouquet in the other.
He deserved more than this… he deserved more than anything this shitty town had to offer.
“Hey Eds,” you whisper, despite the desolation surrounding you.
You carefully set the daisies onto the ground, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill past your waterline. The white of the flowers contrasted sharply against the dirt, which was quickly turning to mud beneath your knees. But you didn’t mind.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the funeral,” guilt laces your shaky voice as you tug your lower lip between your teeth. “I just… I couldn’t see you like that.”
Despite the feeble attempts that Dustin and Robin made to coax you out of bed that day, nothing was going to change your mind. You didn’t want to remember him that way, as you were already grappling with the image of him dying in Dustin’s arms.
A memory that haunts your dreams every night.
“I hope you can forgive me,” you mumble, reaching into your pocket to pull out his lucky set of dice. A sad smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you begin to place them along his headstone, “I brought a peace offering.”
A loud crack has your eyes flicking up, body jolting in surprise as a bolt of lightning strikes a tree in the distance. The impact splits the trunk down the middle, the wind picking up speed and taking your flowers with it.
The torn petals spread across the unkempt ground, the gesture now ruined. Just like everything else you touched.
You blame yourself for his death, knowing he would still be here if Vecna hadn't chosen you. You would live through a thousand years in a prison of your own mind, let that monster drain you of your entire existence— if it meant Eddie would have lived.
“It’s all my fault,” you don’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, staring intently at the stone in front of you.
Edward Lee Munson, now at peace.
Those bold words stare back at you, mirroring the stone that sat just a few feet besides his. One you had become very familiar with over the years.
Elizabeth Ann Munson.
Beloved wife and mother, may she rest in peace.
While hers were more faded, they still brought you a small sense of comfort. Knowing that Eddie was with her now, he was safe. But that comfort wouldn’t heal the hole that had been punched through your chest.
“I miss you,” you hiccup, your tears steadily flowing now, the moisture beginning to blur your vision. “It w-wasn’t supposed to b-be you.”
Your soft cries soon morphed into pained sobbing, your shoulders hunched over as you dug your fists into the earth. You were grateful that Steve had let you come alone, not wanting anyone to see you like this.
In the short time that Eddie had been gone, you felt suffocated. With Vecna still alive and plotting, you were constantly being watched. Your friends not knowing if the demon, creature, whatever he was— would come back to claim you for good.
Part of you hoped for it, mentally pleaded to be taken away too. Because a life without Eddie, wasn’t a life you wanted to live.
A loud scream pierces the air, and it takes you a moment to realize the sound has come from you. Your chest heaves from the force of it, allowing your head to tilt back as your eyes slip shut. Enjoying how the rain soaks into your pores, washing away any trace of your tears.
You sit like that for a while, as the storm continues to wage on around you. Silently wishing that the rain would wash you away too. Dirt is caked under your fingernails, mud coated your shins and the hem of your skirt. You knew you couldn’t sit out here much longer, as your teeth started to chatter from the cold.
Your head falls forward, allowing yourself one last look at his headstone. The red paint has stained it horribly, tainting the last thing he had left in this world.
“I’ll come back tomorrow and clean this shit up, I promise.” You say, lifting up your pinky towards the block of stone. You hold it there for a moment before your hand falls back to your side.
“I love you, Eddie,” you sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you start to stand. Turning around as you begin to wipe the dirt from your knees.
As you take a step forward your shoe begins to sink into the wet soil, almost swallowing your foot whole. An annoyed huff leaves your lips as you try to pull it back out. But any attempt is stopped short as a cold hand wraps around your other ankle. A deep groan echoes in your ears as your eyes widen in fear.
This was it… Vecna’s come back for you.
While everything inside you begs you to run, your body remains frozen. Hyperventilating as the ground beneath you begins to shift, your feet sinking in deeper as another body fights its way out from the earth. A strained grunt of your name snaps you out of your petrified state, recognizing the voice immediately.
This was a cruel joke, knowing he was taking on Eddie’s form just to hurt you more. So you decided you wouldn’t stick around to witness it.
If you were going to die, it would be by his own hands.
“No!” You shout, yanking your ankle out of that icy grip as you make a break for it.
You don’t make it very far though, only reaching the edge of his grave before you lose your footing. The tip of your shoe catches on a tree root, sending your body tumbling forward onto the wet ground. The impact knocks the wind out of you as you struggle to take a breath in. Your nails dig into the grass for purchase as you try to crawl away.
The feeling of two hands wrapping around each ankle has you screaming, thrashing about as you're dragged back towards the grave. The male flips you around, unable to hear his broken pleas over the sound of your own shrieks. You keep your eyes focused on the storm clouds above your heads, desperate for some kind of distraction. You wouldn’t look at him, you couldn’t.
This wasn’t your Eddie.
A dirty hand grips onto your chin, tilting your head down as he wedges his body between your thighs. Forcing you to face him, his dark eyes ablaze with fury— a sharp contrast to the way he gently cradles your jaw.
“I’m not in the mood for games… just get on with it,” you snap, letting your eyes slip shut as you wait for that familiar pain to shoot up your spine and through your skull.
But nothing happens.
You crack an eye open only to find the brunette staring back down at you, confusion coating his features.
“… get on with what, sweetheart?” His voice cracks, the look on his face mirroring his tone.
“Killing me,” you state, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
There’s a moment of silence between you before he starts laughing, the booming sound instantly melts your insides. It was something you thought you would never hear again.
“I guess my entrance was very Night of the Living Dead, huh?” He teases with a wide grin as his head dips lower— his drenched curls sticking to your cheek.
When you feel Eddie’s lips connect with the base of your throat, your breath hitches. Heat pools in your middle as he inhales, groaning deeply. The sound vibrates against your skin, sending shockwaves through your system.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he hums, his hands running down the length of your sides. The male grips onto the soaked fabric of your dress, slowly inching it up until his palms are splayed across the tops of your thighs.
“You’re so warm,” he continues, his nose grazing along your collarbone as you grip onto the shoulders of his oversized suit jacket.
“H-How are you here?” You question with a small whine as he lightly nips at your throat, chuckling deeply.
“You brought me here, sweetheart.” His words are spoken reassuringly, but they don’t offer you any comfort.
“So, this is a dream,” there’s no question in your voice, only a trace of melancholy.
But Eddie notices it immediately, his head lifting from the crook of your neck. His dark eyes met yours for a moment, a look of determination flashing through his irises.
“Does this feel like a dream to you, baby?”
Before you can reply, his lips brush against yours. Any worries that this wasn’t real melt away with each press of his mouth on yours. Silencing the fear that this will all disappear the moment you pull apart. The storm rages on as he kisses you with an electricity that rivals the lightning above you.
“Definitely not a dream,” you mumble, earning a soft chuckle from him.
You swallow the sound as you kiss him deeper, his ringed fingers gliding further up your thighs and under your dress. Your own slip underneath the collar of his jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. Letting the rain soak into his white dress shirt, the fabric clinging to the muscles in his back.
Your hands quickly rake through his hair, tugging on the drenched curls as his mouth trails along your jaw. Continuing lower as he sucks harshly on your skin, enjoying the way your body responds to each press of his lips. A breathy whine spills past your own as his fingers reach the elastic band of your panties.
The tension between you continues to mount as you eagerly drag his mouth back to yours. Eddie’s fingers curl under the waistband, snapping the lace against your skin. You barely register the tearing of that same fabric, too preoccupied with his lips on yours. The clinking of his belt soon follows, aiding him in pushing his slacks down his thighs.
“Please,” you plead, lifting your hips against his. Not wanting to waste another second to have him buried inside you.
The brunette gently shushes you, pulling back for a moment as he rubs the tip of cock through your drenched folds. His pupils dilate as he takes in the way your lips part under his thumb. A shaky breath escapes them as he lines himself up with your entrance.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he coos, caressing your cheek as he guides his hips forward. Slowly slipping into your awaiting heat with a strangled groan, “I’ll take care of you.”
His actions are gentle, as your bodies become reacquainted with each other. Eddie guides your hands above your head, fingers lacing together in the dirt. Your thighs are snug around his hips, desperate to keep him as close as humanly possible.
He rocks his hips into yours at a deep but leisurely pace, letting him savor every moment he spends inside you. As neither of you know what will happen after this is all over, it’s not something you want to think about.
Being here, in this moment, with him is the only thing that mattered to you.
The ferocity of the storm drowns out the cries that leave your lips, much different from the agonized ones you had let out earlier. Everything feels heightened, pleasure coursing through your veins with each stroke of his cock.
There’s a sudden shift in his demeanor as his eyes glaze over with an almost dangerous glint. Similar to that of a predator who had locked eyes on his prey. Your heart rate increases as a deep growl permeates the air. His fingers slip out of yours, instead digging into the soil beside you as his body goes rigid.
The brown of his irises disappear from view as he squeezes them shut, worry beginning to fill your chest. Your hands reach up to cradle his face, feeling how tightly his jaw was clenched underneath your fingertips.
“Eds,” you call softly, but the male remains frozen above you— a statue of Adonis.
He was losing control, ready to slip through your fingers. But you had already lost him once, and you weren't about to let it happen again.
“Stay with me,” you implore, softly pressing your lips against the furrow between his eyes. Brushing the dirt from his cheeks as you continue to trail tender kisses across his face.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally speaks as your lips hover over his, your breath mingling together.
“You won’t,” you promise as your nose nudges against his.
Eddie seems reluctant as he opens his eyes, crimson beginning to bleed into his irises. “But there’s something different…” he trails off, searching for any trace of fear reflecting in your eyes. “I’m different.”
“I don’t care,” you don’t miss a beat, capturing his lips with yours once more.
He moans into your mouth, hands encircling your waist as you lift your hips, encouraging him to thrust deeper inside you. Your tongue slips past his lips, gliding along his front teeth. Coming to a sudden realization as you feel the pointed edge of his canines.
Logically you should feel frightened, but it seems to have the opposite effect on you. Your kisses become frantic as your walls flutter around his shaft, the sensation causing him to moan out your name. The pace of his hips quickens as your nails dig into the drenched dress shirt covering his back.
Your lips separate as you gasp, his cock hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. The both of you falling closer to that precipice with each thrust of his hips. But it’s not quite enough, needing to connect with him on a new level.
Eddie peers down at you in awe as your head falls back, baring your throat to him. “Do it,” you insist, guiding his mouth towards your neck.
You can sense his hesitation, his lips ghosting over your skin instead.
“Please, Eddie,” you beg, his groan vibrating against your throat. “I want you to.”
The sincerity in your tone squashes any doubts still lingering in his head. Allowing his teeth to graze against your tender flesh, testing his resolve.
“I trust you,” is what he needs to hear before he sinks his teeth into your neck.
Your body arches into his chest, trembling as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you— pulling you under completely. Eddie drinks from you greedily, continuing to work you through your high as his own steadily approaches.
“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he moans as his teeth detach themselves from your throat.
His tongue darts out, lapping up the blood that begins to trickle down the curve of your neck. The sight of his mark on you is almost enough to send him over the edge. But your pretty whines are the final nail in his coffin, hips stuttering as he fills you with his warmth.
“I love you.”
Those three little words are whispered against your collarbone as the male collapses onto you. A content smile spreads across your face as your fingers card themselves through his curls. The both of you soaking up this moment of bliss for as long as you can.
The rain above your heads has finally slowed to a drizzle, the pitter patter of the droplets matching your heartbeat. You don’t know how long you laid there like this, bodies intertwined on his grave.
But it didn’t matter, as long as it was him you were entangled with.
“I love you too,” you reply a while later, the male humming as he lifts his face from the crook of your neck, crimson smeared across his lips.
A fond look falls over his features as he leans down to kiss you again, the metallic taste of you lingering on his mouth. A thought suddenly occurs to you, causing you to giggle against his lips.
“What’s so funny, sweetness?” He muses, pulling away from you with a raised brow. You tuck a loose curl behind his ear, a teasing smile playing on your lips.
“Just trying to think of how to explain this to Steve.” You watch in amusement as a scowl appears on his face.
“Poor thing is gonna think I was mauled by a wild animal,” you tease, gesturing to the bite mark on your neck.
You see a flash of jealousy in his eyes, a low growl rumbles through his chest as his lips reattach themselves to your throat— causing you to squeal.
“Harrington’s just gonna have to deal with it,” he answered smugly, hugging your body closer to his.
The both of you completely unaware of the looming figure watching you from the tree line.
tagging some lovelies: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @nailbatanddungeon @vecslut @likedovesinthewnd @lofaewrites
#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson fic#eddie x reader#kas!eddie munson x reader#kas!eddie munson
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Part Two
15 days before Christmas Steve Harrington flinches when the Christmas lights strung along the arcade flicker.
Eddie only notices because he makes a habit out of keeping an eye on questionable people when he's out and about.
Watches Harrington recover with a little shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders, as Gareth finishes up his shift, swapping cashier positions with Jeff.
Dustin and Lucas stick around long enough to greet Jeff as Eddie stares, before scuttling off to Harrington's car, pushing and shoving each other the whole way.
Eddie frowns, but decides to put the whole thing out of his head.
He doesn't need his little lamb's adoration of evil high school figures to poison his day.
xXx
12 days before Christmas and Eddie is starting to realize Harrington is everywhere.
There's a little holiday display the town center has put on. A temporary ice rink surrounded by dazzling lights, hot chocolate stands, and plenty of things to see.
Wayne and Eddie, with their traditional day of Christmas shopping complete, stroll within it, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. They never buy much--can’t, but it’s still something fun for Eddie to do with his Uncle and so and he bounces about with glee as they people watch.
A familiar shriek hits the air, and Eddie turns in time to see Mike and Dustin collide on the ice, while Lucas and his sister skate literal circles around them, laughing.
Unable to pass up on the opportunity to tease, Eddie flies to the edge of the rink, waving his hand and demanding one of the kids do a flip.
"A flip!? Eddie, I can't even skate a circle!" Henderson shouts, at the same time as Wheeler adds;
“Let’s see you try and skate with these idiots!”
“Sorry Wheeler, I think getting on the ice with you might be hazardous to my health.”
“Shut up!”
Delightful banter officially traded, Eddie turns to find his Uncle in a conversation with Steve Harrington.
Grin immediately faltering into a frown, he approaches cautiously right in time to see Wayne clap Harrington on the shoulder.
“It gets better.” Wayne says gruffly, in that tone he uses when he’s trying to give deeply emotional advice without the emotional part.
The younger boy gave a hard nod, muttering something that might have been “Thanks.”
Eddie jerked to a stop several steps away, but close enough for Wayne to see him, to know he was done and it was time to go.
Thankfully his Uncle picked up the signal, and made his way over, so the two of them could finish out their lap around the town center.
"He’s one of your classmates, right?" Wayne asked, as they turned away from the rink, Harrington back to watching the kids laugh and play around the ring.
"Not anymore." Eddie scoffs. "That's Steve Harrington."
Wayne hums noncommittally.
"As in, the rich Harrington's.” Eddie prods, because come on everyone knew who the Harrington’s were, just as everyone delighted in rightfully shitting on them. They weren’t good people. “As in, the assholes from Loc Nora?"
Another hum.
Then; "People are more than their last name, Eds. You should know that."
Eddie jerks back, stung at the admonishment.
Wayne’s not mad, never is, but Eddie recognizes his Uncle’s disappointed tone loud and clear.
"One of the gifts you got from me was seein’ through people's bullshit.." Wayne continues, before sucking in a draw on his cigarette. "I'm surprised you didn't see through his."
‘I don’t want to see through his!’ Is what Eddie wants to say, but keeps it to himself.
Changed the subject instead, shoulders hiked to his ears, because Harrington having some kind of claim on his new players was one thing, but his Uncle!?
He didn’t care about whatever crap the guy was going through. King Steve has been an ass for as long as Eddie had known him, the kind of bully whose downfall you cheered for.
Sure it was petty, but guys like Harrington reveled in pettiness.
So who cared if Eddie didn’t want to look closer at him now? Harrington wasn’t a lost lamb.
He was at best, an injured wolf, and no amount of sad looks was going to make him any safer to be around.
xxx
9 days till Christmas and Wheeler is having a tantrum that's delaying Hellfire's holiday oneshot.
"I don't get why he hates Christmas so much. He didn't even know Will when he disappeared!" Mike snips with his arms crossed.
Dustin is across from him, a furious scowl on his face, as Lucas stands between, a physical barrier between the two.
"As usual, you're talking out of your ass, Mike." Henderson spits, furious. "He was in Will's house with Jonathan and Nancy. That's reason enough!"
As if that makes any kind of sense, but then this isn’t the first argument that went into weird territory like this. Eddie’s always prided himself on pulling stories out of people, earning secrets and truths with a well trained ear and a smarter mouth.
The freshman though, were proving to be a hell of a challenge.
Mike throws his hands in the air. "I'm just saying, we all have way more reasons to hate Christmas, but none of us are acting like the grinch!"
“I know you can only have two good thoughts a day without breaking your brain, but you're being so stupid." Dustin thunders. "Did you ever think Steve might have other reasons to hate Christmas!?”
Eddie almost groans aloud, because of course, of fucking course, this is about Harrington.
The guy was a goddamn ghost at this point, hellbent on haunting Eddie’s entire life.
Didn’t even have the courtesy to die first!
"Guys." Lucas stressed, hands now firmly pressed against Mike and Dustin’s chest. “Come on, we’re wasting time. We can talk about this later.”
“Oh don’t worry about that Sinclair,” Eddie purred, making the three of them jump, as though they had forgotten they had a full ass audience in the form of the rest of the club. “I’m just docking their HP points for every minute they hold up the game.”
“Shit!” Dustin and Milke yelled as one, scrambling to get to their chairs.
Gareth and Jeff snicker, Grant making it known he was over their antics with a look that could have burnt gold.
Eddie clapped his hands once, hard enough for it to echo throughout the room. “If everyone is done bickering,” He announced, slipping into his DM voice, “we can begin our tale…”
He launches into the story he’d planned, and enjoys pulling everyone into it, all thoughts of Steve Harrington left behind.
xXx
5 Days before Christmas and Eddie is panic shopping.
He’s not the one panicking, nor the one shopping, but he has a car and friends who know where he lives, so he’s woken up at an ungodly hour of the morning (10 am) by Gareth, Grant, and Henderson of all people.
“Gareth’s sister took the car again.” Grant explains with dramatic, rolling eyes at Eddie’s exasperated face.
“I’m sorry you planned going shopping five days before Christmas?”
“Well--no-” Grant continues at the same time Dustin and Gareth yell protests.
They talk over each other for a moment, loud enough to make Eddie crave coffee and the comfort of his bed.
He runs one hand through his frizzy, bedhead hair before yanking it out and waving it around to catch his friend's attention. “Alright, I get it! You all decided to do white elephant gift thing last minute, and are now scrambling."
"Speaking of which, you're invited." Henderson tells him with a cheeky grin. "We're doing it on Christmas Eve."
Of course they were.
"Please man? It'll be fun." Gareth pleads, as Grant shoots him his patented puppy dog eyes.
Eddie sighs.
"I'll do it, but!" He sticks a finger in the air as grins broke out, "I'm demanding food and coffee and payment!"
With that he retreated from the door, stomping back to his room.
"Good coffee, too!" He hollers as he throws on clothes, happy chatter breaking out among his friends.
Several arguments and one run to the best to-go coffee shop in town, and Eddie was following his buddies around as they wandered through downtown Hawkins.
Since the mall had burned, shopping options had been rather limited, shops slow to reopen.
It made it difficult to buy things last minute, but Eddie found it was actually kind of fun as Henderson explained the rules they'd all agreed on (hopefully, Gareth added, because the rules had been passed along in pieces.)
"The goal is to get outrageous, funny stuff." Dustin explains as they browsed the local bookstore. "Nothing more than fifteen dollars, and nothing Christmas-y."
Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Nothing Christmas-y?" He echoes curiously.
Dustin nods, serious.
"Yeah. Christmas can be kinda a downer for some people. We came up with this as a way to celebrate without all the holiday stuff involved."
"Some people like Harrington?" Eddie guesses, sinking feeling in his stomach.
There's no way Grant and Gareth would've agreed to do a gift exchange with Steve Harrington.
Right?
Dustin sighs dramatically, whole body heaving.
"I know you've got a weird hate-on for him, but this time of year is really hard on Steve." He snaps, exasperated. "It's not my place to talk about it outside the Party, but he doesn't deserve to deal with it on his own."
There's that word again, Party.
Capital P implied, just as it implies that it's a group that Eddie is firmly excluded from.
It stings as it lands, an unintentional insult that reminds Eddie that his newest little lambs have secrets they refuse to share.
Nevermind the fact that Steve is clearly included.
Eddie collects secrets like candy, but his poking and prodding had yet to get him a solid answer on the mysterious "party."
Rather than press, Eddie raises his hands in surrender.
"Easy there, tiger. No offense meant."
Full offense meant actually, but Eddie wasn't in the mood for a full blown Henderson Rant.
Dustin narrows his eyes, but takes his words at face value. "You know, you guys would really like each other if you both just got over yourselves."
Eddie snorts, but covers it by playfully shoving Henderson's cap down into his face.
"When hell freezes over maybe. Now look, they have a new science fiction display!" The last part is sing-songed.
Thoroughly distracted, Dustin lets the conversation drop, much to Eddie's relief.
(Because really him? Liking Harrington?
Not in a million freaking years.)
xxx
It's Christmas Eve and Eddie is staring furiously at Steve Harrington's house.
"No one told me he was involved." He hisses angrily, knuckles white on his steering wheel.
"Oh my god, stop being dramatic." Dustin rolls his eyes as he talks, unbuckling himself. “I told you Steve hates Christmas, so this is how we’re including him!”
Jeff is looking equally uncomfortable, even as Lucas and Mike fall out of the van.
Gareth's car is behind him, Grant with him.
No doubt they too, are staring at the massive house in front of them in horror.
Slowly the elder Hellfire members file out, standing in a clump as the younger members rush forward.
They storm the door like they live in the damn place, fluttering about like moths.
"What the hell." Jeff mutters quietly to Eddie's left.
"Yeah guys, what the hell." Eddie repeats, shooting a glare toward Gareth and Grant. "No one mentioned this part!"
"We didn't know." Gareth defends angrily. "This was all the freshman!"
"Are you idiots coming inside or not!?" Robin Buckley of all people yells, appearing in the now open front door.
Or rather, one of the front doors, because Harrington is rich enough to have two.
"Shit." Eddie mutters.
"It's not weird if we just--leave, right?" Grant mumbles, shuffling from foot to foot.
"It's very weird if we leave." Jeff responds flatly.
A flare of anger ignites in Eddie. It comes from Steve Harrington invading this entire holiday, and Eddie finally has a chance to catch him off guard.
He'd be damned if he let it pass by.
"Brave faces men." He says, tossing his hair back with a jerk of his hand. "We're storming the castle."
Struts forward determinedly, present in hand, fully planning on making Harrington as uncomfortable as he had made Eddie.
Unintentional, or not.
xXx
It's the day before Crapmas, the one holiday Steve hates, and he's somehow been sweet talked into hosting the kids white elephant exchange.
Which was fine--they were welcome in his home anytime and they knew it--but they'd conveniently forgotten to mention this was a Hellfire Club event.
As in, Eddie "the freak" Munson and his crew of three other dudes whose names Steve doesn't know (but who probably knew his.)
"I dunno man, I wasn't the best person to a lot of people." He worried at Dustin this morning, when the brat had sprung it on him. "This probably isn't the best idea."
"Please Steve!? It's too late to change the venue and you promised you'd do a holiday thing with each of us!" Dustin whined on the other end.
At least he had the forethought to not actually use the word "Christmas."
"You did everyone else's, you can't skip out on mine!"
Everyone else's was simple shit like taking them ice skating, or shopping, or making gingerbread houses.
Not hosting a whole ass party with four people who likely hated his guts--and for good reason.
Which Steve repeated to Dustin, staring vacantly at his carefully decorated house.
Once again, his parents had called in designers to come keep appearances, sending along their usual message that they may or may not be home depending upon various work factors.
"We just never know anymore with your father's job honey." His mother slurred on the phone, four years ago. "We'll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise."
Like more money on his credit card could fix years of ruined holidays.
(At least them being gone was better than forcing Steve to perform in their horrible holiday parties. Dressing him up like a doll, gathering drunk adults around the piano to make him play horrid Christmas songs.
Showing him off like a well trained dog, complete with finger snaps to signal him to move on to his next trick. )
“Steeeeeeve-!”
As always, Steve crumbled under Dustin's badgering.
"Fine, fine!" He’d said. “You're responsible for letting them know me and Robin are gonna be there though!”
Robin, who’d been laying on his couch, poked her head up at her name.
“They’ll know!” Dustin had promised.
Then abruptly hung up, like the brat he was.
Now four half-terrified, half-murderous looking dudes were staring Steve down as they awkwardly stood in his living room, and he had the wondrous realization that Dustin had probably sprung this on them too.
‘Little. Asshole.’ Steve thinks, but plasters the best non threatening smile on his face.
“Hey, uh, guys.” He says with an awkward little wave.
He gets three sets of glares and one impressive looking spooked face back.
Mike and Lucas were already tackling the snacks he’d put out, cheeks full of chocolates and popcorn. Dustin was re-arranging furniture to his liking, and Robin, in-between her four classmates and Steve, glanced at both sides and rolled her eyes.
“Steve, go pull the pizza out of the oven. You lot, come sit down, you look like you’re about to bolt.” Robin snaps, making everyone sans the kids jump.
Happy for the distraction, Steve quickly retreats to his kitchen, overhearing Robin try and get the elder Hellfire members to identify themselves.
Chatter fills the room, slow at first, but it becomes more fluid with Robin’s ruthless prodding. The pizza ends up needing another five minutes, which suits Steve since he hadn’t had time to pull out drinks.
He’s bent at the waist, pulling out various cans when Dustin loudly announces his presence by barging into the fridge and smacking Steve’s ass with it.
With a yelp, cans fly everywhere as Steve drops them, bouncing off the floor and rolling across the kitchen.
“Henderson!” He gripes, standing up as the kid grins at him. He has all his teeth now but the smile will probably always feel cute to Steve. By-product of knowing the little shit for far too long.
“Sorry Steve.” He says dismissively, before stepping aside with a dramatic flair. “Now stop being a total housewife for a second and meet Eddie!”
The sound of cans still rolling ringing in his ears, Steve finds himself staring into Munson’s eyes.
Who looks all too delighted to have seen Steve fumble.
“Thought you were a jock, Harrington. What happened to those reflexes?” He smirks, and Steve feels his face flush red.
“Yeah well,” Steve says, hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck, “Turns out hanging around kids kinda ruins them.”
This is clearly not the response Eddie was expecting.
Nor is he expecting Dustin to loudly announce that; “Steve once played a D&D campaign with us, but he totally ate it as a cleric. You should give him some tips, Eddie!”
Now it’s Steve’s turn to smirk, because Munson looks completely thrown.
“Is…that a joke?” Eddie asks carefully, looking between the two of them.
Dustin shakes his head. “Nope! You can ask Lucas’s sister, she was there.”
He then glances down at his watch, and gives the biggest fake gasp Steve has ever heard (and Steve once sat through Will and Mike acting in a play for their English class, while Nancy and Jonathan silently suffered second-hand embarrassment next to him.)
“Oh shit, I forgot something! Be right back!”
“Language!” Steve calls, as Dustin shoots out of the kitchen. “And be careful not to trip on the cans!”
Munson, who looks like he’s taken a wrong turn and ended up in the Twilight Zone, stares at him. “Did you seriously play a cleric?”
“Weave Healington was a brave man who sacrificed himself in a time of need.” Steve tells him seriously, just to see the guy’s reaction. “May he rest in peace.”
“Weave Healington.” Eddie deadpans.
Steve, keeping his face blank by the skin of his teeth, nods.
“Please tell me that wasn’t the pizza you just dropped.” Robin says as she flies into the kitchen, interrupting Eddie’s face rapidly cycling through different emotions with a badly wrapped present in her hands.
“Stevie boy dropped the pop, Buckley Bird.” Eddie says, recovering quickly. “I would not recommend drinking out of anything currently laying on the floor.”
“Noted.” Robin says, pausing to stare at the cans scattered about. “Hey Steve, did you wrap your weird eyeball thingie? Or do you want me to do it? I dunno how long the kids are gonna wait.”
Like a dog hearing a whistle, Munson’s whole head tips sideways. “Weird eyeball thingie?”
“Oh my god, it’s this--I don’t even know how to describe it. Like an alternative ouija board? It says it’s a “fortune telling game.” Robin makes the quotation marks with her hands. “It has this giant, ugly eyeball in the middle.”
She leans forward conspiratorially to add; “It glows in the dark.”
“Oh my god, Steve, your gift is Ka-Bala!?” Dustin says, bouncing up like a damn jack-in-the-box. “I’ve always wanted that game!”
“Robin!” Steve hisses, because of course she’d announce that right as Dustin would pop back up.
“Oh shit.” Robin says, shooting him an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your gift.”
Steve sighs dramatically, but keeps a small grin on his face so Robin knows he’s not really upset. “Guess I’ll have to go find a new one--which means your punishment is that you and Dustin are now in charge of the pizza. And also picking up all the cans.”
“Curses.” Robin says flatly, before breaking out into a grin herself, while Dustin whines.
“It’s probably for the best.” Eddie says, though the guy sounds weirdly like someone desperately off balance and scrambling to fix it. “You know you weren’t supposed to pick cool gifts, right Harrington?”
Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “Cool? It’s kinda weird. It’s disgustingly neon green. And Robin forgot to mention it’s a board game.”
He pushes Dustin’s hat down as he walks by, and laughs aloud when Eddie follows up by knocking it right off Henderson’s head.
“Hey!” Dustin squeaks, hands darting to cover his hat hair.
He’s ignored.
“Neon green, giant eyeball, fortune telling board game?” Eddie sums up. “Yeah might have to murder Buckley because that sounds rad as hell.”
Steve snorts as he walks down the hall and up the stairs, somehow unsurprised to find the metalhead is following.
“You want it, Munson?” He asks as they hit his second floor, Steve aiming for his fathers office. “You’re welcome to it, I never even opened the thing.”
“What do you want for it?” Eddie asks, following Steve right through the door, before stopping dead.
A typical reaction to someone walking into his fathers stuffy, stupidly expensive office. Like the rest of Steve’s house, it looks as though it was transported straight out of a magazine. Everything is shiny and worse--unused.
“Nothing, man.” Steve said, standing in front of said desk now with his arms crossed. “I mean it, it’s still got the plastic on it. You’re gonna have to sneak it by Dustin though.” He turned to smile at Eddie, feeling like they were sharing a joke, “He might physically fight you for it.”
For some reason this made a hell of a blush streak across Munson’s cheeks, before the guy coughed and swung into the office behind Steve.
“He can try.” Eddie managed finally, voice a shade higher than normal.
As he always did to social things he didn’t understand, Steve just ignored the change.
“Why’d you never play it?” Eddie asks, as Steve scans the shelves of stupidly expensive knick-knacks.
“Someone trying to impress my parents got it for me one Christmas.” He says with a shrug. “They wouldn’t let me open it then, and I forgot all about it until I was digging for something else.”
“They don’t care about it now I take it?”
Steve can’t help the snort that leaves his throat. “They’d have to be around to care.” Then to get the conversation back on track, says; “Okay, I’m thinking the shitty World’s Best Boss trophy.”
He points to the gaudy thing, all shiny from the ass kissing the person who’d purchased it had done in hopes Steve’s dad would give him a raise. Or not fire him, Steve never knew which it was.
"I take it your dad’s not gonna be here to care that it’s gone?” Eddie asks, walking up to stand next to Steve.
Another grin appears on Steve’s face, shared conspiratorially with Eddie when he looks over to the metalhead. “That’s my gift to myself man. I’m gonna see how long it takes before he notices it’s gone.”
Eddie whistled, quiet enough to not hurt Steve’s ears. “Fuck the old man, huh?”
“Absolutely.” Steve agreed, stepping forward to fish the trophy down.
“Gotta say man, you’re surprising me. I didn’t expect such a thing from you. Especially since Henderson told me you hate Christmas.”
Steve shrugged as he turned back around, new white elephant gift in hand. “Yeah it’s a thing I’m trying.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not hating Christmas?”
“Not being a dick. Which,” He shook the trophy, “--means sticking it to the biggest dick in my life. I think I’ll always hate Christmas.”
Eddie snorted a laugh, then looked startled, like he hadn’t expected that reaction out of himself.
Steve grinned at it.
“You uh--you know if you ever want to talk about the hating Christmas thing, I think I get it. Or can relate. Sorta.” Eddie says, and it’s so stilted that it takes Steve a moment to figure out what he’s offering.
He almost asks him if he’s kidding, but thinks better of it.
“I think I’m less cut up about it then the kids are but, for what it’s worth--thanks.”
Doesn’t think he’ll ever take anyone up on that offer, epically not someone who doesn’t know that an entire hell dimension exists under them but--
It’s nice. To have someone recognize that Steve hates it. That there are reasons he might.
He recalls suddenly that the man at the ice rink who’d also seen through his melancholy was in fact, Eddie’s Uncle, and briefly wonders if this just runs through the family.
“Come on, I gotta wrap this and then get back downstairs before Robin and Dustin burn the house down.” He says instead, because he doesn’t want to get in his own head about it. Not tonight, when he knows the kids have gone out of their way in an effort to celebrate the holiday without making him feel like he was celebrating it. “Or worse, they start the white-elephant without us.”
“After you, my liege.” Eddie says with a dramatic bow.
Steve pauses awkwardly for a moment, before giving the world's most careful curtsey back.
(Laughs loudly as Eddie almost falls on his face in surprise, before the older man scrambles to chase after Steve, out of the office.)
xXx
It’s 12:00 pm, making it officially Christmas day, and Eddie Munson is rapidly re-evaluating his entire life.
Well perhaps not all of it, just the parts with Steve Harrington.
They’re playing the best white-elephant game Eddie has ever participated in, a cutthroat competition that’s filled the house with shrieks and laughter.
Henderson’s gift, cat-paw shaped mittens with “You’ve gotta be kitten me” scrawled on the back is the current winning prize, with Mike’s salt and pepper shakers made in the shape of two pigs “porking” being a close second.
The worst gift is a tie between the eye searing scarf Gareth’s mother had created (complete with bedazzled gems) and an abomination of a stuffed animal Grant insists is an ET doll.
It looked like a deformed llama sat on its ass, and Lucas already scared Mike with it twice.
Eddie’s own gift, ( a mug with Tom Selleck posing shirtless) was jokingly fought over by Robin and Steve to the bitter end, while Gareth was defending the blue circular cookie tin (the kind that mothers shoved needles and sewing threads into, but shockingly enough actually held real cookies) with his life.
Literally at one point, as he laid over it while Jeff tackled him.
Eddie himself had gone for the gold, wanting the trophy Steve had procured. He too, was defending it aggressively against Dustin, who was currently stuck with Lucas’s gift (one of his sister’s pet rock creations she’d apparently tried to sell to her classmates.
It was hideous.)
Now stretched out on his bed, legs in the air as he stares at the Ka-Bala game Steve had snuck into his arms with a wink, Eddie finds he’s the guy’s managed to go from haunting his whole life, to trying to haunt his heart.
Made him want to do the thing he’d angrily been against this entire time--take a look at the guy closer.
See past his bullshit, at the person hiding underneath.
Find out what Steve was talking to his Uncle about, and why his house looked like a Christmas themed tomb.
Why his parents were gone. What the hell made him he pick a cleric in D&D. How he met the kids and why Dustin thought the sun shines out of his ass.
But most of all?
Why the hell had Steve Harrington put a note on the back of the Ka-Bala game?
‘Hope you like the game..’ It read, with the dorkiest little smiley face. ‘I wouldn’t mind hanging out again.’
Below it was a number, and Eddie felt himself go red in the face.
Steve Harrington was a fucking mystery, but one Eddie himself, had been personally invited to solve.
‘Merry Christmas to me I guess.’ He thought, and tried very, very hard not to kick his legs in the air.
#I invite you all to end your xmas with some steddie fluff#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things 4#0o0 fanfics#xmas special#fluff#Ka#Ka-Bala is a real game and its the goofiest looking thing ever.#white elephant
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eddie the bloody-handed
summary: your boyfriend, eddie, sacrifices himself in the upside down to keep you and dustin safe- but when you finally go back for him, something else has taken his place.
pairing: vampire!eddie x female reader
warnings: graphic depictions of blood, death, angst, mourning of a character, major spoilers for vol. 2, kinda villain!eddie at the end but with good morals
note: said i was gonna take a long break, but i couldn't help myself when this idea came up. also thinkin about a part 2???
all you feel is pain. pain as your heart wrings in your chest, as if it will burst at any moment. pain from your lungs not allowing you to take a full breath. pain as your bones ache with grief while you scream out for your dying boyfriend, watching him choke out his last breath.
eddie's body sits limp and heavy in your arms, erratic pleas tumbling from your lips. your hands cup his bloodied face as sobs roll out one after another, searching his still face for any sign of life.
“no, eddie! please! wake up!” your voice echoes in the alternate dimension, coughing hoarsely from the phlegm building in your throat.
“we have to go. right now. nancy's plan didn't work." steve’s worried eyes come into view in front of you, wide and full of fear.
"why didn't you just run?" you cry out to eddie, fists desperately grasping at his leather jacket.
harrington stands up after you ignore him, taking a step behind you. his arms swoop under your arms to pull you up to your feet unwillingly, “what?! no!” your voice shrieks in protest. your legs kicking as you fight against his efforts, “steve, please!” you suck in a wheezy breath, your chest shaking and bottom lip quivering. with a grunt, you press a kiss against eddie’s still warm forehead.
before you’re overtaken by steve’s strength, you yank an arm away from his hold to run your fingers through eddie’s unruly hair you’ve grown to love, “i love you, my sweet eds.” your watery eyes blink out numerous tears above him. the liquid slides off your face and onto eddie’s cheeks, carving tracks through the blood and dirt dormant on his skin. your body goes slack, succumbing to the battle.
“i’m so sorry.” his voice cracks, the thunder rumbles above you two as your feet drag against the pavement. steve sniffles as he helps you up the stairs of the munson’s trailer, towards the gate in the living room. steve's emotions are getting the best of him. he would never want to do this to one of his best friends, if it wasn't a life or death situation.
the rest of the group has already climbed through with a new rope they found. the discarded one sits beneath the gate, causing the memory of eddie slicing it to save you and dustin to flash in your mind.
another hiccup tumbles from your lips. a wet sniffle honks from your nose in attempt to suck up the mucus leaking from your nostrils.
steve aids in helping you climb, his hands sitting respectfully on your waist. “steve… i can’t leave him.” you whimper quietly under your breath, pausing your climbing to glance down.
“i know, honey. i know, just- get through this part and we’ll come back for him. it’s not safe for us to be down here right now.” his thumb rubs your sides in attempt to comfort you, urging you to keep moving.
your head nods, taking a deep shuttering breath before continuing your climb. small puffs of strained breath fall past your lips until you’re flipped right side up, back hitting the mattress that’s laid out on the ground.
robin’s hand reaches out for you, helping you up to your feet to allow steve to fall through. the floor rumbles beneath your feet, making you second guess if you’re still in the upside down.
the things around eddie’s trailer begin to tremble, glass clatters and the objects on the wall swing. your eyes dart around at the people around you, their face mimicking your panic-stricken one.
“steve! hurry up!” nancy shouts at him through the portal, making him quicken in pace, “i’ll be right back!” you announce as you turn on your heel.
“no! y/n! shit- what is she doing? there’s an actual natural disaster happening right now!” robin rants, loud voice slightly cracking as she follows. your legs quickly carry you back to eddie’s room, but not without tumbling into the walls from the force of the ground shaking beneath you.
the modular home whines and cracks around you as your body frantically pushes through his door.
the smell of his familiar cologne, weed and tobacco instantly smacks you in the face. tears instantaneously fall down your face, you stumble up to his electric guitar sitting pretty on the wall.
“come on! we need to go!” dustin screams at you and robin from the other room. the urgency makes you reach out for the instrument, slipping the strap over your head.
the dresser falls forward, drawers clattering as they fall out onto the floor of his room. you lunge forward to catch it before it could hit the ground, robin runs up to your side to help you keep it steady.
“i think we really, really need to go. like right now, right now!” her voice is strained with panic.
“i can’t leave without some of his stuff.” you huff out, dropping to your knees to vigorously search through his pile of clothes on the floor.
you find two of your favorite band tees before standing up swiftly, snatching his cologne that has fallen to the ground on the way up. robin stands back to let the wardrobe fall, stumbling backwards to clutch your upper arm.
she starts to lead you down the hallway, but a fallen polaroid catches your eye. you reach down as you run out of the room, snatching the flimsy photo. your eyes glance over it, a teary smile coming to your face when you realized what it is.
eddie is laying down in his bed with you, arm around your shoulders as you hide your face in his chest. he’s playfully sticking his tongue out at the camera, his hand on your shoulder in a rocker gesture. your poor boy, oh how you wish he would have just ran.
“holy shit! holy shit!” robin screams, her hectic pace quickens even faster. her scared voice makes you follow her eyes to peer at the ceiling, seeing that the gate has spread down the hallway.
“come. on! come on!” harrington waves you down from the front doorway, screaming at you both to hurry up. robin practically flies past steve, hopping past the steps instead of using them.
your arm is tugged along with her, so you have no choice but to follow her movements. you slide into the middle seat of nancy’s car. eyes watching as the gate burns a hole right through the top of the beloved trailer.
once steve hops into the passenger seat, wheeler screeches out of the grass, punching the gas as she speeds out of the trailer park.
all three of you in the back turn around to watch the gate crack the home in half, spreading to the ground outside. your heart aches as all the memories you shared with eddie are destroyed- just like that. you sorrowfully turn back around, sinking in your seat as tears silently run down your warm cheeks.
“everything… is just gone…” you whisper out, fingernails digging into your knees caps through your jeans. dustin tackles your side with a hug, holding onto you desperately as he cries against your shoulder.
he didn’t even have to talk for you to wrap your arms around the boy, the silence in the car is deafening as you comfort each other.
the ride home is dreadful. the rest of the party was informed that max was taken to the hospital, and the town is completely destroyed from all the gates merging.
the next few days are even worse. half of hawkins population has been relocated to the high school. where you were involuntarily volunteered to help out, since it’ll be ‘good for you’ to get out.
you’re busy slumming out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the people of hawkins, working in a machine-like routine. robin is occupied with vicki, and steve is somewhere folding clean donated clothes.
how is this supposed to help? it’s making you feel worse. you’d rather be absentmindedly strumming chords on the guitar instead of-
your running thoughts pause when you notice a crowd forming around the large windows.
the knife in your hand clatters to the table below you before you run past robin to push through the crowd. your heartbeat pounds against your ears, ignoring the clamor of the people you’re pushing out of the way.
you come to a clearing, noticing steve staring out the window in the front. you reach out to grip his shoulder to pull yourself to him, stumbling forward out of the packed crowd. his hand instinctively grabs yours to bring you closer to him, holding onto you protectively.
when you’re close enough, you finally realize why everyone has gathered. to other people, it seems like it’s snowing, but to you and your friends, the familiar upside down dust is floating freely in the air.
“steve…” you breathe out, hand gripping his just as harshly, “what’s going on?”
he turns his head, giving you a look that makes fear travel down your spine, “i think.. it’s merging with our world. another gate must’ve opened.”
the sound of another gate opening makes you perk up, mind cranking with millions of thoughts. steve realizes what just clicked in your mind, but he’s too slow to react. you’ve already pulled your hand away from him, and started pushing back through the crowd.
you need to find this gate in hawkins, you need to find eddie.
steve calls out your name repeatedly, not having the best luck weaving and bobbing through the crowds as he chases after you.
your feet take off in a sprint, dodging numerous children and people as you make your way through the maze of corridors in the high school. the area is heavily guarded by military personnel; which means you need to find a way past them.
you burst through the front doors of the school, trotting quickly down the steps. the door behind you bangs open, a panting steve emerging as he weakly screams your name.
you stop in your tracks, turning around to look at him with a stern glare.
“steven, you can either you help me, or you can ignore what i’m doing and go back to folding clothes.” you breathe out heavily, giving him an ultimatum.
he marches up to you, face twisted with frustration, “i don’t think you realize how dangerous it’s going to be to go back! i mean- seriously? there’s militia everywhere, they will shoot-!”
“you can lecture me all you want, harrington, but you will not change my goddamn mind.”
steve groans in annoyance, looking up at the darkened sky, “you obviously know i’m not going to let you do this by yourself, right?” he mutters, stressfully running his hand through his hair as he drops his head to stare at his feet.
a small grin curls up on one side of your mouth, your hands rest proudly on your hips, “i seriously love you, steve. now let’s go.” you slap your hand into his to pull him to your car but he doesn’t budge.
“we can’t do this alone.”
steve corrals robin and dustin from inside the school, gives nancy a call, but she refuses to help anyone go back into that hell. (that’s her exact words)
dustin knows exactly where eleven’s hideout is, so steve drives there with the help of dustin’s directions. the car rolls up to a very old, almost destroyed cabin.
the inter-dimensional dust seems to be thicker around this part, and there’s nobody to be found. “come on.” you usher, hopping out of the backseat to run towards the house. you knuckles rap against the wooden door, but to no avail.
you hop down the steps, ignoring the rest of them to run around back. you notice a trail that leads through the forest, so you opt to follow it; even with steve’s fatherly protests.
it seems like you’re going the right way since the dust is growing thicker, almost as if a gate is nearby. you come across a clearing, a grassy hill scattered with wildflowers. the scene behind it catches your eye, dark smoke billows into the sky from the cracked open earth.
it resembles a scene out of a fantasy book, like lava is spewing from the depths of the planet. the group is standing farther down the hill, surrounding something on the ground.
you run up to them, chest constricting with anxiety as you grow closer. there it is- the gate.
the people around you call your name in surprise from your arrival, but it falls upon deaf ears. every form of self-preservation is screaming at you to not jump through, but your heart aches for eddie; to find him and put his body to rest.
as you’re about to step through the gate, your body is held captive by someone gripping the back of your metallica t-shirt, “what do you think you’re doing?”
your head spins around to the person holding you back, seeing hopper, alive and well. “oh my god!” you shriek, throwing yourself at the man who quickly hugs you back with a hearty laugh.
“hey kid. how you doing?” his deep voice rumbles. this doesn’t seem real.
the floodgates let loose, tears soaking into his shirt. “i’m terrible.” you sniffle, wiping your nose with your hand, “my boyfriend… he- he died in there.” you point back at the gate with your lip quivering.
“i want to get him. bring him back to give him a proper burial. i just- i left him in there.” you sob, digging your face into his chest.
“hey, hey. i don’t think going back there is the best idea right now. we need a plan.”
you pull away from him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “i do have a plan. i’ve been thinking about it for days. i know what i need to do.” you pull away from him, turning on your heel to stare down directly into the gate.
it seems as if everything slows down around you. before you could decide if you want to jump into it, a tentacle from the gate whips out at your foot. the slimy extremity spirals up your leg to grip your body, pulling you harshly to the ground.
a scream leaves your mouth as you’re tugged towards the mouth of it, “no!” you yelp, scratching at the ground, dirt building up under your nails. you wanted to make this decision yourself, not to be forcefully taken in.
flashes of your friends running after your helpless body are seen between your head being hit repeatedly against the ground. your body is lashed around by the violent force of the creature as you fight against its efforts.
your strength is nothing compared to it, unable to keep yourself in your own world. the tentacle tightens it’s grip on your ankle as it pulls your body into the alternate dimension.
the thing detaches from you, throwing your body into the air as you scream into the oblivion. gravity takes over and you’re sent hurling towards the ground. your side slams into the solid terrain, your lungs left unable to work.
all the air is punched out of your body, instantly struggling to breathe as you army crawl away from the insistent tentacle. “augh- fuck.” you wheeze, unable to take a fully deep breath from the air being knocked out of you.
you roll onto your back, looking over at the gate that’s sealing up in the ground. the once colorful flowers around you seem to have molded and withered away, the sky is dark and menacing, lightning flashing red.
your consciousness seems to fade in and out, head twirling dizzily. you blink in attempt to clear your fuzzy eyesight, lungs finally regaining some strength.
your hand rests on your chest as you breathe in all the upside down grime. you close your eyes for a moment to try and relax, taking in deep and slow yet painful breaths.
something above you blasts air in your face, making you gasp and whip your eyes open. the dark silhouette of a large bat-like creature in the sky is shown by the flashing lightning.
adrenaline kicks in your nervous system, activating your fight or flight response. your legs scramble beneath you as the bat nose dives, and barrels down right towards you.
“shit shit shit shit!” you screech when you notice it growing closer, hands coming up to hide your face. it’s cold grasp embraces your body, trapping your arms by your sides and lifting you up into the sky.
the freezing air whips through your hair, your eyes hesitantly squint open to look around you. red flashes in the clouds you’re flying through, making your body tremble with fear. even with the cold temperature of the sky, sweat pools on the back of your neck.
the monster soars through the air, it’s fur slightly tickling your nose. since you’re pressed into it’s chest, you didn’t dare to look up at its face. you’re not dead… yet, so you decide to glance at your attacker.
it seems almost human like- it’s skin is soft, yet deathly pale, almost grey. it’s wearing a bloodied white shirt, it’s scarred sides in full view from the torn holes. you realize that it’s not fur, it’s curly hair that adorns it’s head.
oh my god.
the jawline, the hair, the ripped up hellfire club shirt…
“eddie?” you scream out over the loud wind in your ears. instantly, tears spring to your eyes as you wiggle in his grasp to bring one of your hands out. his tight grasp doesn’t budge, not letting you move as he traps you against his chest.
eddie drops beneath the clouds, making you squeal from the feeling in your abdomen. his arms tighten protectively around you before his wings widen, stopping the airflow to gently lower you both to the ground.
once your feet touch the grass, you stumble backwards to fully look at him. it’s eddie, but he doesn’t look like your eddie. his skin is much paler, clothes torn where he was bitten by the demo-bats, wings folded fingertips black with long dark nails, and leather jacket scuffed and ripped from his protruding wings.
“eds?” you call out his name again, stepping forward with your hand out. his head hangs, frizzy hair covering his face as he shakes and grips the roots at the top of his head.
“baby, please. look at me.” your voice whimpers out desperately, tears running down your cheeks.
“stay away!” he raises his voice, making you stop in your tracks. his shoulders quiver as he silently cries into his hands, “i’m a monster. i don’t want you to see me like this. why did you come back?”
you take another careful step towards him, waiting for him to tell you no before you take another one, “my love. you’re not a monster.” you mutter with a breathy laugh.
his head lifts up, looking at you with bright glossy red eyes instead of the dark brown ones you’ve grown so fond of. you stop to stare at him, looking over his slightly sunken cheeks. his perfect lips are still plump, and slightly pink.
“but i am.” he talks, flashing his pearly fangs in his mouth. the sight makes your blood run cold, but you refuse to let him know that it terrifies you.
“no, eds. you’re not.” you shake your head with a watery smile, reaching both your hands out for him. his bright eyes dart towards you, then to your hands then back down to his.
shakily, he lifts his arms so his hands were hovering above yours, fingertips grazing against each other’s. you slightly raise your hands, fingers wrapping around his slender wrists. the temperature of his skin is a great contrast to yours. it feels as if he’s been outside in the snow all day.
“i don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.” his voice is timid, quiet and scared.
“you won’t. i know you won’t.” you let your hands travel up his familiar arms, feeling the muscles and once full veins under his skin. you let your hands travel to his waist, pulling yourself towards him to embrace his rigid body.
at first, he’s tense when your body presses into his, but he soon softens against your touch. he nuzzles his nose into your hair, letting out a relieved shaky breath. “god, i missed you so much.”
“eds, you died in my arms. i thought i was never going to see you again.” you mumble into his dirty shirt, voice muffled.
“i did, but i woke up once you left. i turned into... whatever this is,” he motions to his body, “think i’m part demo-bat, or somethin’.” he chuckles, fluttering his wings behind him.
“like kas the bloody-handed, from d and d.”
“kas?” he tilts his head back to look at you with a sly smirk, “hearing you say that was so sexy.”
“only learned from the best.” you bring your pointer finger up to poke his nose, making his face scrunch up.
“can i kiss you or will you bite me?”
“maybe i will… maybe i won’t.” he shrugs playfully, gripping your hips to pull you closer. his infamous smirk makes your stomach flutter with butterflies.
you stand slightly on the tips of your toes, craning your neck up to peck a wary kiss against his cool lips. he chuckles against you, dipping down to catch his lips with yours again.
the temperature sends a shock down your spine, goosebumps rising on the surface of your skin. his nails slowly drag up the back of your arm, making another shiver wrack through your body.
the sharpness of his fangs press into your bottom lip as he deepens the kiss, wiggling his tongue past your lips to press against yours.
eddie’s hands glide down your sides to rest on the swell of your ass, squeezing the plushy flesh there. his wings flap happily behind him, curling in around your bodies to shield you both from the surroundings.
you pull back from the kiss, eyes fluttering open to look around, noticing the fleshy wings circled around you. “eds, you’re so beautiful.” you stare up into his crimson irises, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek.
the boy nuzzles his cheek into your palm like a puppy, happy to be here with you in this moment. touching you, feeling your warm skin under his icy fingertips.
the crunch of footsteps behind you makes him tug you against his chest possessively, wings tightening around your body to hide you as he whips around towards the sound.
eddie lets out a loud hiss, showing his fangs at the aggressors in front of him. his eyes are intimidating, baring his teeth as he tries to ward off the intruders.
“hey, hey, hey!” someone attempts to calm him down, their voice deep and muffled by something. “we don't want to hurt you. we’re looking for someone! a girl. she came in here, did you see her?”
his eyes flicker between the people, muscles softening against you. his wings slowly unravel, letting you in view. when you turn on your heel, you don’t exactly recognize them at first.
two men are standing in front of you, clothed in protective gear, flashlights and weapons in hand and bandanas over their nose and mouth. “steve? hopper?” you breathe out, squinting to get a better look.
“hey, yeah- it’s us.” steve’s eyes flicker to eddie, looking fearful of the winged man. “harrington?” eddie calls out with a shocked tone, hands on his hips as he leans forward to stare at him for a moment.
“should’ve known by the hair.” he gestures with a twirl on top of his own head, “sorry, buddy.” he chuckles, “didn’t mean to scare ya.”
“what happened?” harrington asks, eyes raking over munson’s silhouette with a frightened look.
“long story short… those uh bats? turned me into a vampire, kind of thing.” he nods his head once he thinks he explained it good enough, pursing his lips awkwardly.
“y/n. we have to go. you can’t stay here, come on.” hopper waves his hand as he moves toward you.
your eyebrows furrow, taking a step towards eddie. “i’m not leaving him. i just got him back.” you wrap your arms around his side.
eddie pulls you in protectively as hopper sighs and takes another slow step towards you both, “i don’t want to fight with you, let’s just go. it’s not safe.”
“excuse me. i don’t know who you are, but she says she doesn’t want to go, and frankly, i don’t want her to either.” eddie grows more and more protective by the moment, upper lip slightly twitching as he yearns to snarl.
the man completely disregards eddie, “did you not hear me correctly? it’s. not. safe. you can’t be breathing in all this shit for a long period of time.” hopper grows impatient, his broad shoulders huffing.
steve is behind him, eyes darting nervously between everyone as he stays quiet. “you gonna help me, or what, kid?” hopper shouts back at steve who clears his throat and steps forward.
“yeah, uh. you should probably listen to him.”
“or what?” you snap back, chest rising and falling quicker as anger brews deeply inside of you.
“or i’m going to drag your ass out of here.” jim states, obviously loosing his cool.
“over my dead body.” eddie steps forward, almost chest to chest with the taller man. his fangs slightly show as he finally snarls at him.
hopper let’s out a chuckle, but not one that’s sounds like you just told him a joke. “huh, okay.” his hand rests on the weapon in the holster of his waist.
“eddie. get us out of here.” you whisper up to your boyfriend, in fear for both of your safety. “hold on tight.” his arms wrap around your waist as he launches himself from the ground and into the air.
“hey?! hey!” hopper and steve yell at you both, watching from the ground as eddie disappears into the clouds.
your body shivers from the below freezing temperatures of the high altitude, gripping his body for some sort of solace.
“hold on, baby. tryna find your house.” he dips beneath the clouds, eyes looking over the area until he finds your home. he drops to the ground, leading you up to your doorstep.
eddie pushes open the front door, letting you walk inside first before following behind. he locks the door behind you both, letting you look around at your home.
“it’s like mine… but different.” you breathe out, walking up the steps to find your room. eddie folds his wings behind his back as he follows you up the staircase.
the door to your bedroom is already cracked open, letting you slip inside easily. the bed is messy and thankfully not covered in vines, “i’ve been staying here. since mine got destroyed by the giant gate.” he clears his throat awkwardly, watching you as you peer at all your familiar things.
“can you sleep?” you ask, turning to look at him leaning against the doorway.
“nope, i tried.” he huffs, rolling his eyes, “doesn’t mean i can’t cuddle with you while you do.” his eyes perk up, awaiting for your answer with a little smile.
“of course, darling. you can always cuddle me.” you plop on the bed, patting the empty space beside you.
eddie sulks up to you, sinking into the soft mattress. “you know, i tried to leave through a gate and it burned me. i mean, i healed quickly, but it hurt like a mother-fucker.”
your worried eyes flash to him, “wait- you can’t leave?”
he shrugs in response, gulping when he notices your emotions growing stronger, “don’t worry ‘bout it right now, babe. we’ll get henderson down here and that nerd will figure something out.” he wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you down into the bed.
“but for now, get some rest, okay? i can tell you’re tired.” he tucks you in under the blankets along with himself beside you.
he stares down into your eyes as he slightly hovers above you, “everything will be okay.” he pecks your lips with a reassuring smile.
“you’re right, we’ll figure something out.” you give him one last kiss before succumbing into his side, nuzzling against him to get comfortable enough to be able to fall asleep.
one of his wings sneaks underneath you, wrapping around the side of your body like a canopy. he absentmindedly presses soft kisses to your face, enjoying watching you sleep.
“i love you.” he whispers to your sleeping self, before he begins to press kisses down to your jaw, making his way to your neck.
eddie let’s his cold tongue poke over your jugular vein, feeling the heartbeat pumping blood through your body. his mouth salivates at the feeling, knowing you’ll be so tasty. you’re his girl, everything about you is tasty.
he’s careful not to wake you up while he drags his fangs across your soft skin. every bone in his body aches to feed, to sink his teeth into you.
the animalistic urges take over, eyes tearing up from being unable to control himself. a hoarse hiss emits from his mouth, making you jolt awake. he presses his nose into your skin as you wake up, “eddie?” your pretty voice whispers out to him, pushing against his chest but he doesn’t budge.
he trembles in your arms, lips opening to mouth at your skin, “eddie, you’re scaring me, baby. get off.” you whimper, pushing more aggressively against him.
“i’m so sorry. i just- i can’t be without you... please forgive me. i love you.” he weeps softly in your ear.
his words makes you go still, eyes going wide when you realize his fangs are pressing into your skin. “eddie!” you yelp once the pain grows hot on your neck, pushing your hands roughly at his chest.
a cry tumbles past your lips, his wings curl around you to hold you steady. his strength is no match against you as he slurps at your delicious blood.
the thick warm liquid hits his tongue, an almost orgasmic moan gurgles out against your neck, “eddie, please!“ your cries grow softer as more blood is drained from you.
the hits against his chest slowly fade to nothing as you go limp in his arms. he pulls back instinctively with a gasp, wiping his wet mouth on the back of his hand.
he cups your face once he realizes what he’s done, “i’m so sorry, baby. i’m so sorry.” he wails above you, wiping at the seeping blood on your neck with his hand. his thumbs swipe under your eyes to dry up your tears.
“you’ll wake up soon, sweetheart. everything will be okay.”
-
tags: @authorlovers @powerfultenderness
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#vampire eddie munson#vampire au#eddie munson smut#stranger things#stranger things spoilers#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#eddie munson fic#vampire eddie au#kas the bloody handed#dungeons and dragons#eddie the bloody handed
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i'm starvin, darlin - e.m.
Eddie Munson x Reader
ǁ summary: Since coming back from the Upside Down, Eddie has slowly been changing. Each week seems to bring something different and he finds himself doing things he never thought he would.
ǁ tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nickname used (sweetheart). mentions of season 4 final episode and what occurred. canon divergent (every one lived). it's not smut, but smut adjacent. it's sexy
ǁ word count: 2k
ǁ notes: i sat down and wrote an entire one shot in one sitting again. and i am also not going to edit this one. and i do not feel bad for lowercase hozier title, so don't even try me like that. if y'all really like it, i can add a part 2 with smut, but this is it for now
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There are still a lot of things Eddie is having to come to terms with since the night his heart stopped.
That night in the Upside Down, laying in Dustin’s arms, he had died. Without a doubt. Dustin had felt his pulse and there was nothing there. And though he didn’t know CPR, had no idea what he was doing, Dustin had laid him down on the ground and started to beat against his chest. Like maybe if he hit hard enough and in the right place, his friend would come back to life.
Somehow it worked. No one bothered to ask why.
But they all knew something was wrong two days later. Eddie, barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, had been dragged back to the surface and hidden away in the RV they had stolen. Someone watched him round the clock as they debated what to do. If they should try to get him to a hospital, how they’d be able to explain it. But then something miraculous began to happen:
Eddie started healing. All on his own. Way faster than any person should have been able to.
His skin stitched itself back together faster than should be possible, leaving less scar tissue than it should have behind. His chest began to rise and fall in more steady breaths, his heart beat getting stronger, bones resetting themselves with slow and quiet creaks as he laid in that RV bed and slept. He’d been asleep since they brought him back.
The day he woke up, his body had almost entirely healed itself. From the brink of death, having even stepped over to the other side, and now he was almost back to before it ever happened. It had only been a week.
Everyone rejoiced, refusing to question anything weird that may have happened in the Upside Down and just thinking they finally won for once. Max had casts on both her arms but was otherwise unharmed, Steve had recovered from his own injuries at the rate of a normal human and now sported a scar around his throat that he sometimes felt self conscious about. Dustin was on crutches with his broken leg for another month at least. Eddie was alive and whole and back to himself. They’d made it, everyone had made it.
He began to notice more and more things that were different as the days went on.
The first thing he caught on to was that he had the capability to be strong. Way stronger than someone who had recently been bed ridden should be. It was like in the comic books with the Hulk – if he wasn’t paying attention or if he got too emotional, he could easily break anything. A walkman destroyed, a ceramic bowl reduced to shards, a metal pipe bent beyond fixing, the wooden handle of a hammer shattered in his grip. The boys were all present for the hammer incident and sighted it as one of the coolest things they had ever seen. They swarmed him, asking him how he did it, what else he could do, how strong he really was.
Only the other teens, Steve, Nancy, Robin, you, started to look a little bit closer.
When the next few changes became apparent, it was clear something unnatural had happened to Eddie that night in the Upside Down. He could feel other people's feelings. They brushed against his consciousness like ghosts whenever he looked at someone. Happiness like warm rays of sunshine, fear like a shuddering gust of wind, anger like hot coals pressed to his skin. It wasn’t a conscious effort – in fact, there were a lot of times he wished he could turn it off. Whenever he looked too hard at someone, it’s like his brain adjusted to a different frequency and their emotions reached out to him, no matter what they were. And he didn’t struggle to make sense of the sensations like he thought he might, his brain completed the dots easily at first, but then he began to recognize them consciously. It was certainly useful sometimes, especially when it came to you, but it still felt a bit invasive. When he’d explained it to a few people, he assured he tried to ignore it whenever he could, but sometimes he couldn’t help but react. The icey spike of terror he felt when you woke up next to him from a nightmare. The velvet comfort that enveloped you and him when he held you after.
The first time he spoke into someone’s mind it was an accident. Steve had whipped toward him, breath catching in his chest, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp. Eddie felt it like ice down his spine. “Did you… You did that?” He’d asked breathlessly. It had been so shocking, Eddie wasn’t even sure what’d he said, or projected, or whatever it was.
“I - I don’t know.”
Steve stepped closer, suddenly looking determined. “Try to do it again.”
It was a slithering feeling when he dipped back into Steve’s mind. Like sliding his way in between cracks to a place he didn’t belong, seeping into the forefront of his thoughts to plant one of his own. It made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and wrong. But it worked. Steve explained it as having a thought like his own but it came out in Eddie’s voice instead. An intrusive thought but not an uncomfortable one.
As with all of the other discoveries, a meeting was called. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, El, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and you. Steve did most of the talking while Eddie sat and looked at his hands. These meetings, while he acknowledged were important for everyone to keep track of his progression into… something, it still made him feel a bit like a zoo animal in a cage. A magician with a magic trick. All the boys immediately begged him to do it to them, they wanted to see what it felt like, wanted to see how easy it was for him to do it.
Nancy and Jonathan had shooed them, catching on to how overwhelmed Eddie was, their excitement and curiosity battering against him like a whipping wind of too much. Once it was just the older people in the room, you crossed over to where he was, kneeled down in front of him, reached out to hold his hand.
Pity felt like someone was pissing in his pants.
“Are you okay?”
How could he say no? How could he admit that he was scared, confused, and feeling more and more like a monster with the passing days? “It’s just a lot. To deal with.”
Your smile was pained as you pushed yourself up onto your calves and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His came around your waist on instinct, the breath feeling like a wheeze in his lungs as he held tight. Face pressed into your hair with his eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled deep in relief.
That was when the next thing changed.
It was a desire. A need. One he couldn’t place a name to. Like he was desperately missing something, desperately craving something and he didn’t know it was. It crawled under his skin like ants and sent him scratching for a feeling that couldn’t be satiated. No matter what he tried: eating, drinking, masturbating, exercising. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It got stronger day after day, his mind focusing more and more on the void it left behind until it was all he could think about.
Steve threw a little get together at his house once a month or so. Just time for everyone to get together, eat some food, listen to music, play board games, maybe watch a movie. This was the first get together since his hunger began.
He was sitting on the couch on his own, decompressing. While normally he was right in the middle of everything, today it was a lot to handle when he was hyperfocused on the crawling beneath his skin. He had his legs spread wide, hands resting on them, leaning deep into the cushions of the couch in Steve’s basement. While he had initially tried to close his eyes, hang his head back, maybe stare at the ceiling – he couldn’t stop his attention from drifting back to you.
You and Eddie had been friends for a long time. Understandably, you’d gotten much closer after the events in March. The two of you had helped each other through hard nights of nightmares, panic attacks in parking lots, flashbacks in public. You’d been a great comfort to him since he came back. But today your laugh sounded like music. The smell of your perfume hit him even across the room. Each emotion crashed over him in waves, pushing and receding like the tide as he tried to get off your frequency, unentangle himself from you before he did something he didn’t mean to do.
I’m starving.
Your back stiffened, the grip on your plastic cup getting just a bit tighter. A moment of fear quickly shifted to mellowed surprise, curiosity. He’d never spoken into your mind before, hadn’t meant to do so now. But you still shifted, your eyes slowly coasting across the room until you caught sight of him on the couch.
A shock of electricity shot down his spine as you made eye contact, his hands tightening over his thighs in reaction. Unsure exactly what to do, he settled for projecting again. Slithered his way into your ears and settled a respectful distance from the area he’d never been brave enough to venture. Sorry, he offered with a wince, didn’t mean to.
What he didn’t expect was the utter flood of feeling that hit him next. Like a drip of warm honey settling into the space between his hips, pooling there in a subtle swirl as the warmth from it started to diffuse outward. You realized you’d been staring and your eyes flit away, but the feeling didn’t cease. In fact, it only got stronger. Your lower lip caught on your teeth as you shifted between your feet. Things that would be completely normal to see, wouldn’t have anyone looking twice, but Eddie could. Your desire. The want that poured from you like water when your eyes first met his.
Was this the first time? Had something changed between you and him? Or had he just never caught on before?
The ants beneath his skin began to vibrate as he narrowed in on the feeling, on you. Like the part of him that had slithered into your thoughts was now bearing down, digging in for purchase, wanting to stay awhile and feed on this new feeling, what you were offering. It didn’t even occur to him what he was doing, how invasive it might be, how wrong he normally would have felt. All he knew is that it felt like licking at the thing he’d been craving for so long and he was helpless to chase after it.
Sweetheart. It came easy as breathing now, teeth sunk into your consciousness from where you stood across the room. You whirled on him again, another flood of warmth hitting him deep as you leaned your hip against the counter you were standing next to and focused on him. What’s got you so worked up?
He couldn’t even consider how bold he was suddenly being, the fear that he might ruin this friendship well out of his grasp. Especially when your embarrassment spiked along with the want, the pool of warmth now suddenly coming to life to have a heartbeat of its own. Your eyes widened, shifting on your feet again as you broke eye contact. It only took a few moments before you couldn’t help but look back at him again. The buzzing settled further, now like a purr beneath his skin. It was bearable as long as you kept your eyes on him.
You wanna do something about it?
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thanks for reading, please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!
#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson hurt/comfort#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson blurbs#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#myos ideas#vampire!Eddie munson#kas!eddie munson#myo4munson
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• AS YOU WISH •
pairing: kas!vamp eddie munson x (she/her) reader
warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; vampire related violence & gore, trigger warning - possible hints of s-h; how does miss britney say it? toxic, anxiety, heavy make out sesh, lack of proof reading, etc.
word count: ~2.5k
stories of eddie munson series • season two •
note: my apologies for the wait my loves! we love a depressive episode + getting sick. the creative juices struggle to flow, but ii hope this does the trick. thank you so much for your patience 💗
Your hand grips tightly onto his wrist, dragging him towards the other room. Kas, however, has other plans. Despite your strength, he effortlessly pulls your fingers off of him. His smile filling his face. “Hold on, little one,” he says playfully. You turn towards him in confusion and shock. Your heart racing in your chest. Anger bubbling within you. Betrayal - there’s nothing worse than betrayal.
“I still need breakfast,” he says as he licks his lips. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning his shoulder against the wall. Just like that, you are reminded that the person before you is not only someone you do not trust, but is someone you have barely met. The looks may fool you, but the man before you is not at all safe.
You let out a calm breath as your body and muscles instinctually tighten. Abruptly, your mind chooses flight and rushes you towards a window. Kas laughs as he races behind you. His hands atop your waist before your fingers even reach the latch. He pulls you back against him as tears fall from your eyes. “Please don’t do it again,” you beg through your sobbing. Fear shooting throughout your head, painful messages to run away as fast as you can.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad, darlin’,” he whispers. His hand brushing your hair back behind your shoulder, exposing your neck once more. You push against his grasp once more, only to be met with his standing force. With a lack of effort, you mutter, “Please, you don’t have to do this.” A smile hasn’t left Kas’ face since you ran. He gently leans his head down into the crook of your neck. His lips press softly against your skin. You shudder at his touch. Your eyes water as you firmly close them shut.
Another kiss is pressed against your neck. You feel his cold breath against your skin. “You taste like honey,” he whispers against your ear. You swiftly lose your breath as your hand balls into a fist. “You’re delicious,” he murmurs as his hand slides up your stomach. Flashes of Eddie, the true Eddie, spring to your mind. He is the only one who touched you like this, will touch you like this.
Kas quickly spins you around. A gasp escapes you as you still quiver at his touch. Your eyes meeting his as his fingers dig into your waistline. “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he says as he watches the fear spread across your face. “There’s no reason to be scared.” He pulls you close, close enough where your chin crashes against the top of his collar bone. His arms wrapped around your hips. His mouth once again hovering over your neck. His tongue slides up your skin. You try your best not to shake. You try your best to pretend it doesn’t leave butterflies in your stomach.
“Just a tiny bite,” he whispers playfully. “No,” you attempt to say sternly, only for it to come out as a tremble. “Just one,” he says as he kisses your skin once more. “No, Kas,” you reply. This time with more confidence to your voice. He pulls away at the sudden display of strength. His confused eyes upon you as you stare him down. “I said ‘no,’” you repeat calmly. His eyes rake over your face. A small glint of a smirk upon the right side of his mouth. “Yes, darlin’,” he says without missing a beat. “As you wish.”
Kas lets go of you, taking a step back. With his arms ripped from you, you catch your body reaching back out to him. A clear disconnect with your mind. “Okay,” you mutter with a shaky breath as you brush off your clothes. Brushing him off. “Are we ready to go now?” you ask, with an annoyed tone. “Yup,” he says playfully as he walks past you to the front door. He holds it open for you with a huge smile across his face. “Time to get me some breakfast.”
“What?” you ask incredulously. Kas laughs as he waves for you to walk through the threshold. “If you’re not going to give it up, then I’m going to have to find breakfast elsewhere,” he shares. “Not like I can find Henderson on an empty stomach, common now.” Those shudders began again. Finally, your body remembers the danger before it.
“Don’t be jealous, little bird,” he softly says as he walks towards you. His fingers deep into your hair as his palm caresses your cheek. “You’ll be begging for me to bite you sooner or later,” he whispers. His hand quickly travels from the side of your head and squeezes your cheeks at your chin. He plants a rather bland kiss against your cheek, yelling “mwuah” as he floats back towards the door.
You stand in shock. You hate each reminder thrown your way that Eddie is gone. Every time you look at the hollowed being before you and recognize that the chocolate eyes looking back at your are dead. You missed Eddie. You missed him more than anything in your life. He was everything to you. But now he’s gone. And you don’t even have the luxury of having that being consistent. No, you just have a demon inhabiting his body - reminding you each day that the happiness you once had will never return. “Let’s go, princess,” Kas whines. “I’m hungry.” You follow his lead through the doorway.
Kas waltzes ahead, his movements ethereal. His excitement spreads in each of his steps. His curly hair bouncing as he skips over the blackened veins. He points to each as he walks over them. You note how cautious he is. How careful he is that you do not step on these disgusting vines. Tempting, maybe a way out. Something to distract with. But his smile… shit, his smile keeps drawing your attention. How could it have gotten cuter? The pointed canines act as a cherry on the cake. You shake your head, pushing the thought away.
“Darlin’,” he starts as he points over to the right. You follow him in confusion. Your eyes widen in horror as you see a trench glowing bright orange. It’s depth unfathomable. It rests on your old park playground. You watch in horror as half of the monkey bars are melted off. The seasaw no longer in its place. You would imagine it would be deep in the heat by now. Another memory destroyed before your very eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Kas asks as his face comes into view. His brows pull together, almost as though he is concerned. It’s confusing to say the least. “Why did you show me this?” you ask, on the verge of tears. “Isn’t it cool?” he asks. His excitement pulling his attention. “It looks like it goes all the way to the earth’s core.” His eyes grow wide as he walks closer to the ripped ground. “There’s gotta be lava and shit. I can feel the heat from here,” he whispers as he puts his hands out to warm them up.
“Reminds me of Mr. Burnham’s class,” he says with a chuckle. His words catch your attention as you hold your breath. “He always said there’d be a layer of fire underneath our feet,” he mutters. One side of his smile pulls, as he turns back to you. “I always used to get so high before his class,” he chuckles out. “Made science way more interesting.” You watch him, careful in your next few words. The back and forth between remembering and not is difficult to follow, let alone a minefield seeing as he continues to become upset by it.
“I used to have a science teacher named Mr. Burnham too,” you say softly as you walk up beside him. His mouth returns to flat line with brows pulled together as he processes your words. You decide to peer over the ledge, instinctually grabbing his hand. You feel his eyes on you like daggers as you pull away, raising your hands defensively. Slowly, the smile re-emerges. A weight lifts off your chest. “Must be a common name,” he whispers back with a sigh.
Kas grabs hold of your wrist, running you over across the desolate street. Only a few vines to skip over this time. You see flecks in the dense air. Your mind worries if you should be breathing this in. However, that should probably be the last thing on your mind. Before you knew it, you were in front of the classic Alberta’s diner. A ‘50’s diner where most of your popular schoolmates went. The new arcade was more your style.
However, you could barely recognize it. It’s clean, chipper walls now black, green, and white. The vines entangled it from head to toe. Mold seeping out from each one of Vecna’s veins. You watch as the black roots pour over the high top tables. How they flow into the kitchen, holding the doors permanently open. You wouldn’t dare take a step forward. Not a clear path in site.
“You coming,” Kas says, hoping over a vine and holding his hand out to you. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” You swallow as you slowly place your foot on the other end of the blackened death root. His bottom lip pouts looking at his hand still held out. You are too focused on not stepping on them that you didn’t happen to notice. You begin to sweat, I really cautious in where your foot lands, what your shin may brush against. The pressure building your chest burns with anxiety. Something you could have looked to Eddie for help with. Not anymore.
Kas carefully guides you back to the kitchen. Oddly, the stove and surrounding has been cleared of the darkness. It stands out amongst all the black. A perfectly cleaned stove top. Conveniently unusual. He watches your confused expression as you try to make sense of the scene before you. “I cleared it out,” he laughs. “Man’s gotta eat,” he says as he pats his stomach. He then grabs a bag of some mixture and shakes it your way. “Pancakes. Did you want some?” he asks innocently.
“You eat pancakes?” you ask in disbelief. Kas smiles, his sharpened teeth poking out just below his upper lip. “Hell yeah,” he answers with a bit of a chuckle. "Love 'em." He begins to pour the mixture into a bowl. He digs into his pocket and pulls out two eggs. He smiles once more, then kisses one of the eggs as he laughs your way. "If you eat pancakes, why were you trying to drink my blood?" you ask with hands to your hips. You cannot, will not forget the fear you felt this morning. The fear he made you feel from the face of a man whom you loved before. Unforgivable.
Kas laughs once more as he begins to mix the bowl. "Have you ever heard of a joke?" he says carelessly. His smile can only take him so far. You feel your heart sink as you try your best to keep your bottom lip from trembling. Instead, you fall against the kitchen wall. You grab hold of the side of a table as your head drops forward in dismay. "You alright?" he says with concern as he places the mixing bowl down. You nod with tears in your eyes. Thankful that your hair is covering your face.
"I'm alright," you whisper in response. Kas' brows pull together in distrust. However, he returns to mixing the bowl nonetheless. He pours them over the heated stove. "These first two are for you, darlin'," he says under his breath. You turn to look at him. Suddenly, a pain in your stomach at the smell of the cakes cooking. He turns behind him to open a cabinet and grab chocolate chips. He places his hand within the bag, only retrieving a handful before gently dropping them onto the pancakes.
He flips the little cakes as you stand, glaring at the floor. "I'm sorry," he says softly. His eyes still on the stove, not daring to move. You turn to him, unsure if you heard his words correctly. "When I saw you, I didn't know what to think. I just wanted you, all of you," he continues. "You were the first real person I have ever seen. You were - are beautiful. The most beautiful thing I have ever seen." Your eyes raise towards him. The sweet face returns. Those innocent, brown, chocolate eyes that you loved so much. The brunette curls that round his perfect face. You remembered him - your Eddie, your beautiful Eddie, in that moment. Maybe he wasn't gone. Maybe there was hope.
You let out a soft breath as your mind continues to reel. "Kas," you call out. Kas' eyes flick towards you. You take a slow step forward as your hand trails against the counter beside the stove. Finally, your eyes reach his. Your heart skips a beat, as you convince yourself that Eddie is here. That the man before you is Eddie. Your hand slowly raises to his cheek. The sensation clearly unfamiliar to him as he initially pulls from your palm but slowly leans into it.
"You don't know how good you were," you whisper as your thumb gently rubs against his cheek. His confusion rests within the furrow of his brows. "You were gentle, beautiful, kind, extraordinary," you say as you stare deep into his eyes. "I loved you before I even knew your name." You let out another breath as you bite your lip. Slowly, you lean into him, landing your lips against his perfect mouth.
Your eyes close as you feel the softest lips, the lips you have known so well. His hands reach your waist, pulling you closer. They quickly explore your back, digging into the skin of your shoulder blades. Before you knew it, your arms were around his neck - refusing to let him go from this kiss. A kiss you never intend to end. A kiss you would not dare stop because, fuck, you do not want to lose him again. A kiss so familiar, yet so different. It may be Eddie, but this being before you is also Kas. A confusing jumble of the two.
Kas presses his tongue against your lips. You part your lips as you pull him further in. You cannot help the moan that leaves your body as he grips deeper against your body. The fire between you two burning deep, no matter the fact that you have both just met. An underlying fact beneath the pain, fear, and turmoil you have endured since finding stepping into the hollowed shell of your hometown.
He quickly drops his hands past your ass and against the backs of your thighs. With a swift movement, he pulls your legs up and places you harshly against the counter. His hands flood into your hair as you bite into his kiss. His own teeth biting against your lip, leaving subtle hints of blood and enjoyable pain within the embrace. You moan once more, leading to him growling against your mouth. In this moment, you would give him anything - everything. Just to have a single moment with Eddie Munson again.
What you did not intend was jus that. Kas wanted everything, and he would not settle for anything less.
note: ruh-row. what's going to happen next...
next part • return of the boy •
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Eat me alive
#You dont wanna know what happens next#actually you do#too bad it ends there haha#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#kas eddie#vampire#my art#my stranger things art
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“I’ll sit, but I’m not going to be happy about it”
#eddie munson#joseph quinn#stranger things#stranger things vol 1#stranger things 4#eddie munson stranger things#the hellfire club#joe quinn#netflix#eddie deserves better#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie as kas#eddie in s5#corroded coffin#stranger things volume 2
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sympathy for the devil - e.m.
demon kas x human eddie x fem hunter (supernatural au)
i found god, i found him in a lover.
when his hair falls in his face, and his hands so cold they shake…
i found the devil, i found him in a lover.
and his lips like tangerines, and his color coded speak…
warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! established relationship, hate fucking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, mentions of blood, anything italicized is eddie’s inner dialogue to kas
word count: 3k
a/n: it’s me back again with another repost of an old fic. i also want to give a big shout out to my darling @undead-supernova for helping me edit multiple parts this fic. ily august 💕
You knew he was here.
From the smell of sulfur lingering in the air, to the heavy presence in the room. Your skills as a hunter were too great, you knew he couldn’t have led you astray.
But maybe he wanted you to find him.
This cat and mouse game you’ve been playing for months was just a little too exciting for him to give up. You should’ve been scared, your instincts told you to be. But hearing his husky voice cut through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse made your heart skip a beat.
“Nice to see you again, sweetheart…”
You couldn’t tell where he was yet, still using the cover of the night to shield himself from you. You clutch your bottle of holy water closer to your side as his chuckle bounced off the walls. “You’ve tried that before, it didn't work out so well last time. Did it, pet?”
He was getting closer, you could tell by the way your hair stood up on end. Squaring your shoulders as he finally steps out into the moonlight. The sight makes you freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief. Kas looked different from the last time you had seen him.
He had taken on a new vessel, one that had become quite familiar to you.
Eddie Munson, a bartender you had met at a place called the Hideout. After you’d stumbled inside the rundown bar for a drink after finishing a grueling hunt somewhere in Indiana.
He was sweet, and you both needed to let off some steam. So you took him back to your motel room for the night… and the night after that. The male had made you feel things no one else ever could. So you kept finding yourself going back to that shitty town to see him. Where he was always waiting with that charming smile and a rum and coke.
But now guilt riddled your chest as his once chocolate hues were a stark onyx, Eddie was long gone.
The demon in front of you smirks, eyes watching you in amusement as the recognition crossed over your features.
This was your fault, you put him in harm's way. You had been told time and again not to let yourself be involved with non-hunters. Regular folk. It would put them at risk, not knowing about the things that go bump in the night.
But demons were especially dangerous, they didn’t need consent to take over someone’s body. The only reason you were protected was due to the dark ink that swirled over your hip bone.
Kas takes a step toward you, causing you to take one step back in return. This only made that smirk widen as another chuckle slipped past his lips.
Lips that had been on you too many times to count.
“He thinks about you a lot, you know… wanted you to stay with him so many times.” The demon hums condescendingly, the implication behind his words makes your heart stutter in your chest.
Coming to the realization that you could never have that happy ending now, not with him, or anyone.
After crossing paths so many times, you knew how malicious the demon standing before you could be. Even if you were able to banish him back to hell, Eddie wouldn't be able to return to a normal life.
Once that veil between those worlds is lifted, there’s no way to undo the damage it causes. You’ve seen it more times than you can count.
“A little pathetic, really…” Kas continues as he advances on you slowly, backing you further into a corner.
Your emotions are clouding your reasoning, allowing the demon to continue to close in on you. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this, but as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise… you knew one thing was true. You had fallen for the metalhead.
And now you’d never get him back.
“But don’t worry, sweetness— he’s still in here with me,” as he speaks you feel your back connect with the cool concrete, the male now caging you against it.
His body felt warm against yours, a juxtaposition to the cold seeping into your back. His familiar scent of citrus and tobacco engulfs your senses completely, bringing you back to the last time you saw each other. Your limbs were tangled together as you lay in a post sex haze. His lazy smile made your skin tingle, finding yourself tracing over the faded tattoos on his chest.
From the flash in his dark eyes you knew he was reliving a memory of Eddie’s, if not the same one.
His calloused fingers begin to trail across your neck, unintentionally allowing yourself to lean into the graze of his fingertips. Despite how your mind screams at you to push him away, your body continues to betray you. Kas can’t help but notice how your skin heats under his touch, how your thighs squeeze together. It amuses him more than you’ll ever know.
“Don’t touch me,” you mutter, wishing your words held much more malice than they do. The slight shake in your voice causes another dark chuckle to spill past his plump lips. Mocking you.
The demon leans further into your space, those damned lips grazing over your collarbone. The feeling causes you to shiver as goosebumps break out across your skin. Kas continues to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your throat. The feelings of fear, anger and arousal mixing together— making your head spin.
“You can deny that you want this with your words all you want sweetheart, but I see the way your body reacts to this vessel.” He taunts, letting his teeth nip at your tender flesh.
“I feel those goosebumps on your skin, the way you shiver under his touch, and… I can smell you.” Kas growls, his teeth sinking roughly into your skin.
A slight whimper leaves your lips as you attempt to push him away. But it’s too late— he has the upper hand now.
His fingers lace themselves into your hair and tug, exposing more of your neck to him. He licks a stripe up your throat to your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.
“I can feel how bad he wants you too, you know. The way he reacts to your body… you have no idea how much he wants to feel you again.”
Your eyes widen in shock as the demon presses his hips into yours, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans.
Get the fuck off her asshole, she’s mine!
Kas chuckles again, pulling back slightly as his hands continue to wander down your body. There’s a flash of something in those onyx hues, leaving you to wonder what hidden joke you’re missing out on.
“Your little boy toy isn’t very happy with me, sweetheart… he doesn’t want to share. How selfish of him,” he feigns a pout, leaning forward as his nose glides along your jaw.
I’m warning you, dickhead.
His deep chuckle fills the silence once more as his large hands grip onto your hips, “Isn’t he selfish, pet?”
“Fuck you,” you spit back, shoving him away but only momentarily. His hands quickly return to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
That spark of defiance returns, which only makes the demon grin wider. His hold on your hips becomes harsher, the metal of his rings biting into the skin there.
“Hmm… with pleasure, darling.” His lips hover over yours as his sweet breath fans across your face. There’s a moment when those black hues slowly start to fade, the brown of Eddie’s returning.
Seeing that flicker of him, the man you had desperately fallen for— is what finally breaks your resolve.
Closing that short distance between you and angrily smashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth, his hands hooking under your thighs to lift you. Trapping you further against the wall as he grinds his pelvis into yours.
You don’t know where Kas starts and Eddie ends, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.
The kiss is angry, all tongue and teeth viciously clashing together. There’s still a small part of you that’s begging you to get away, that this was wrong. But your body has taken over control, that little voice fading with each press of his lips against yours.
His tongue glides along your lower lip, begging for entry you weren’t yet willing to give. The male doesn’t give up that easily though, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass and squeezing.
The action takes you by surprise, the small gasp you let out allowing him to slip inside. Kas groans as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, before setting you back on your feet. He pins your hips against the rough concrete as he kneels before you.
The demon eagerly buries his face in between your thighs as he inhales deeply, “I need to know if this pussy tastes as sweet as it smells.”
You’re stunned into silence as he reaches to quickly unbutton your jeans. Finding yourself all too eager to aid him in sliding the denim and lace down your legs. Stepping out of the fabric as Kas tosses them somewhere in the dark of the warehouse.
The brunette doesn’t waste another moment before his tongue is licking a fat stripe up your slit, forcing your thighs apart in his strong hands. Your fingers lace themselves in his wild curls, tugging harshly as you feel his tongue dip inside your entrance. His growl vibrates against your core, nose nudging your bundle of nerves in a way that has your legs trembling in his grasp.
“Hmm, even better than his memories…” you nearly miss his admission over your soft whines, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.
Kas eagerly replaces his tongue with his fingers as the muscle swirls up and around your swollen bud. Your head is swimming, his actions bringing you that much closer to the edge. The male enjoys the way you grind yourself harder onto his tongue as your grip on his hair tightens. Feeling the way your walls flutter around his fingers only encourages him to pick up the pace.
While your eyes have slipped shut, his are wide open. The stormy irises commit each pleasurable expression that flits across your face to memory— to both of their memories.
The almost inhuman speed of his fingers and the firm pressure of his tongue finally pushes you over the edge. As your loud cries echo throughout the empty warehouse. You attempt to push his head away, but his lips don’t leave your body. Instead he trails them down your thighs, smearing your slick across your skin.
You curse softly before dropping to your knees, pushing him backwards. He is surprised by your sudden dominance, but allows you to lay him back on the dirty ground. Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the zipper down with an urgency you had never seen from yourself before. It makes him chuckle, as you greedily shove his pants down to his knees.
“If you were that needy for our cock you could’ve just said so, sweetness.” He grins devilishly as your hands reach for the elastic of his boxers.
Mine, not yours…
Your eyes flick up to meet his, the smirk plastered on his lips fuels your irritation further.
“Shut the fuck up, Kas.” You say between gritted teeth, pulling his hard cock out from the confines of his boxers as he stifled a moan.
Fuck, that’s my girl…
You don’t give him much warning before you’re straddling his hips, sinking down onto his full length with a whimper. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken him to bed, you were still in awe of just how well he filled you up. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, caressing your inner walls in a way no other man could.
It was addictive, a slice of heaven you never wanted to lose.
The male grips your hips tightly, guiding them as he rocks his own up against yours. He’s groaning beneath you, dark eyes watching the space where your bodies are connecting with almost… fascination. A creamy ring has formed around the base of his cock as you continue to ride him. You let your nails dig into his clothed chest with a satisfied whine, your head falling back as you take him deeper.
She really is an angel…
The demon doesn’t seem pleased with your languid pace any longer as he abruptly flips you both over. The movement knocks the wind from your lungs. Kas grins down at you, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight that has filtered in through a broken window. His large hands hold you firmly in place as he begins slamming into your cervix. Causing your back to arch off the grimy floor, your shirt riding up in the process.
The sounds of your bodies connecting fill the once eerie silence of the night. His eyes rake over your newly exposed skin, pushing the material further up your torso. His calloused fingers trace over the ink splayed across your hip with a dark look.
“This little mark might protect your soul, but it’s not going to protect your body.” He grunts as he continues to slam his hips harder into yours, “Not from me. Or him.”
You don’t answer, instead grabbing a fist full of his hair and smashing your mouths together. He kisses you back just as roughly, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The familiar taste of his saliva mixes with a harsh metallic flavor. The taste of you on his tongue only fuels the fire raging inside you. The male sucks your bleeding lip in between his.
Kas grabs your shaky legs, wrapping them around his waist to join you closer together. A gasp escapes your lips as he hits that sweet spot inside you, causing your eyes to roll back. The demon groans as he feels you pulse around his cock, trailing his lips over your jaw. The mixture of his spit and your own blood smearing across your skin.
“No wonder he can’t stop thinking about you,” his words are spoken so softly you almost don’t catch them.
Pride blooms in your chest as a small smirk graces your features, but it’s wiped away just as quickly. His hips pound into yours even faster, leaving any snarky comment to die on your lips. Instead a pleasurable cry pierces the air as your nails drag across his back.
You can feel your orgasm building with each deep stroke of his cock, filling you to the brim. His lips suck onto the base of your throat, his breath coming out in short pants as you tighten around him more.
“That’s it, angel. It's okay, I’m here.”
Your eyes that had previously fluttered shut, now snap back open. Coaxing his face up from the crook of your neck. No one ever called you that but Eddie, not even Kas.
Your eyes meet his brown ones, letting his hips slow their pace. That signature dimple indents his cheek when he smiles down at you, tears blurring your vision. You quickly blink them away to see him more clearly. Eddie leans down, gently kissing away the moisture that has stained your cheeks.
He wraps you in his arms, pulling you up and into his lap. The new position only buries him deeper inside you, allowing the pleasure to wash over you completely. Your body trembles in his embrace as you rest your forehead against his.
“Eddie,” you moan, grinding yourself harder onto his cock as he holds you close.
His touch is much softer as his hands reach out to caress every inch of you. While he still has control over his own body. Allowing himself to soak in every moment before he’s ripped away from you again. But between your pretty cries and his husky groans, neither of you will be lasting much longer.
“I’ve got you, angel… come for me.” The promise of safety in his voice makes your heart flutter in your chest.
Feeling his fingers encircle over your sensitive nub, he gives you one more hard thrust before you finally fall apart. A breathy cry of his name tumbles from your lips as you feel him twitch inside you. Your body melts further against him, an attempt to keep him here with you. Despite knowing the reality that was soon to come.
“Fuck… I love you. I love you.” He sounds desperate as he mutters the words against your temple.
In your blissful state you don’t notice the black haze beginning to overtake his irises. His words ring in your ears as you feel him spill inside you. Not stopping the movement of his hips as he fucks his essence deeper inside you. Letting your head fall into the crook of his neck as you mumble those three words back into his flushed skin. His comforting scent washes over you as you attempt to catch your breath.
“Well wasn’t that just so sweet,” your body stiffens in his embrace, his deep chuckle snapping you out of the sweet cocoon you were just in.
You quickly scramble out of his lap in an effort to detach yourself from him. His previously comforting touch now sets your skin ablaze, as if he had burned you. You can feel the mixture of your arousal dripping down your thighs as you hurry to find your discarded clothes in the dark.
In your frenzied state, you don’t hear him approaching until he’s right behind you. His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your waist as you bend over to retrieve your jeans. His hips flush against your ass, the metal on his belt pressing into your bare skin. His hand reaches around to dip in between your thighs, collecting some of the mess you both made.
Kas eagerly sucks the digits into his mouth with a moan, before you feel the warmth of his body disappear.
“We’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart… you can count on that.”
Is the the last thing you hear as he slips into the still of the night.
#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#kas eddie munson#kas!eddie munson#kas!eddie munson x reader#supernatural x stranger things au
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now i’m not saying it’s happening but…..i have my suspicions…..
#it’s giving very much eddie munson is alive#joe honey it looks like you may have a secret you want to tell us#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson is alive#steddie#steve harrington#fruity four#stranger things#steve x eddie#steve harrington/eddie munson#eddie munson theories#eddie munson stranger things#st5#st5 theory#kas theory#kas eddie munson#stranger things 5#st4 vol2#eddie munson headcanon
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in a dark, dark room (kas!eddie) (dark)
inspo from this audio by eyesofsuggestion on reddit.
your boyfriend isn't as he seems. looks like someone else is along for the ride in his earthly vessel, someone you've never met but whose been dying to meet you.
tw: 21+ and especially minors dni. this dark fic features dub-con and is not recommended reading for those who are sensitve to dub-con and non-con themes in fanfiction. this fic features: dub-con, blood play, blood drinking, rough p in v sex, choking, name calling, taunting, mocking, light smacking. pretty blatant monster fucking. read at your own risk.
there is just so much blood.
you lay there, limp, feeling the sheets soak beneath you slowly. warm and thick, staining the floral pattern fabric, turning white roses red with little mercy. he leans down a second time, gasping with need, long tongue sliding over the puncture wounds in your jugular before sinking in again. you cry out, pushing at him desperately, making him growl with frustration when his hands come to hold you down by the bends in your arm. talons that have grown sharp and long bite into your skin with the same sting as his teeth.
"please stop," you choke out, haze gathering at the edges of your vision. you feel the rush of blood pull from your neck while he keeps drinking, breaking away to nose at your jaw and cheek.
"please stop," he taunts back, tongue laving over you again, "can't stop, sweetheart. not when you taste so good."
you try to brace yourself for his third bite down but it doesn't come. his lower lip drags over your skin, slick with slimy drool while his mouth becomes accustomed to the long fangs growing over his lower gums. he takes a sharp inhale, taking another break from his fill, pushing up on his arms where they hold you at the elbows. he smirks down at you, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight pouring into your room.
this was not the eddie you were used to. sweet and mild mannered, always letting you take the lead. he bought you flowers on your second date and dinner on your third. soft and gentle in everything he did, warm to the touch. forehead kisses before bed. desperate for you. but not like this.
"what's that face for, huh?" he asks, voice a deep husk, vibrating with something else -- something darker, "scared'a me?"
you nod with a whimper, weak with blood loss. you can feel your hot tears leak down into your hairline, over your ears.
"m'gonna die ed," you croak out.
"hmm," he hums with a tut, shrugging, "maybe. but you'll be alive for what's next."
"well, barely," he smiles, teeth gleaming with blood and spit. he lets go of your arms when he knows you can move them, gouges left in their wake when he does. you aren't sure if there's any more blood left to let out.
he shifts above you, pulling you to the edge of the bed when he stands over your broken form. what happened? you think. he'd come over like he always had. you made dinner together, watched creepshow, he complained about work, he told you about a show he had coming up. when you went upstairs tonight it wasn't uncommon for you both to fool around. you're used to him clinging to you, holding you, burying his face in your neck. it was when you heard the rattle of his breath and the flap of leathery wings that your eyes flew open to this -- to some monster.
you look at him now as he towers above you. the puncture in your neck pulses, the scratches on your body sting from when he pulled you down and held you in place when you tried to run away. gripping and grabbing to keep you under him until you succumbed, teeth sinking deep into you.
"you miss him, huh?" he asks, the blue of his veins showing up under his tattoos in a maze. he parts your thighs, looking down at your naked core hungrily.
his dark eyes flick up, catching yours, "you can't lie, i can hear you in there."
you nod again and it aches, stretching the holes over your veins.
"aww, poor thing," he pouts, a finger reaching out to trace along your inner thigh. you shiver at the touch, cold and biting, "he misses you, too."
"who are you?"
"i'm who he really is, honey," he coos, "your boy's just a cover. you think he came out of that accident without some screws loose?"
you whimper when he touches the seam of your thigh, "at least he picks 'em pretty for me."
you look down at your body, splashed with your blood and a sheen of sweat.
"if it makes it easier for your dumb little head to understand," he starts, taloned hand reaching out to smack lightly against your cheek, "let's just say i hitched a ride when he got out of hell."
"and baby," he says, suave and sure, "i've been so patient with wanting to get a taste of you. he's been putting up such a fight trying to keep me away."
you fade in and out, feeling him take your thighs in each of his hands to pull your flush to him. they run up over your hips, sliding over the stickiness on your skin.
"whining about how i eat girls like you for breakfast," he snickers and takes a beat, "actually -- he's not wrong. i do do that."
"but you've been on my mind, sweetheart," he nods, letting go with one hand while he reaches for his cock. your mind races when you see it, thicker than the one you're used to -- monstrous almost, "been really needing a toy to play with on this side."
"and you're just so easy, huh?" he says, brows tilting while he mocks you, "he'd do anything for you. can you do this for him? he knows just how you like it -- i can do that, too."
"eddie--" you rasp, arm weakly reaching up to push his hand away while a fingertip drags through your folds.
"please baby, call me kas," he grins with a smarmy flair, "eddie's my host's name."
"what is it, hm?" he asks, catching your gaze in his, "you don't want it?"
you shake your head no, eyes snapping shut when he drags two claws lightly over your cheek, over the tendon in your neck that he hadn't bitten through. they follow down over your collar bone, down your chest, your rib cage, the touch making your back arch up to him when he applies just enough pressure to make it sting.
his giggle is dark and deep seated in his chest, "i can see what you're thinking. you don't wanna like it -- but it looks like you're just beggin' for it, aren't you?"
his hand grips your hip, the tip of his cock sliding from the top of your slit to the bottom with steady guidance. he slides it again against the slick while it builds, body betraying you while arousal overtakes your fear. in the haze it could still be him, it could still be eddie.
"hm, he likes it when you're on top, doesn't he?" kas laughs haughtily, "loves looking up at you. what's he call you, again? oh that's right -- his goddess, his angel."
"that's not how it's gonna go tonight, though, is it?" he asks, fat tip of his cock pushing in between your thighs, "no, you're gonna be my pretty whore. gonna be a good 'n' weak, needy toy for me."
"right?"
tears prick your eyes at the stretch of just his tip, unsure of how the rest of him will fit without ripping you apart. his hands come to your thighs, pushing them up against your sticky chest. you nod slowly, the rest of your body on fire with pain from his previous assault.
"m'gonna split you open," he nods, pushing in slowly while your walls stretch to accomodate him. your back arches with whatever strength you have left, whines and whimpers pouring out of your mouth. his claw sink into the fat of your thighs, blood pooling from the divots and dripping down over the meat of your ass.
"hmm," he hums while he pushes in to the base, "he loves this pussy. i can see why."
kas's thrusts start slow, claws digging into your skin with each slick squelch deep inside you. he leans forward, wings spreading behind him while he picks up a steady speed. his gaze is certain, tawny circles around his eyes making it seem like they're deeper set. he touch his cold, skin chilling you while he presses himself along your body.
"oh he let's you choke him out, huh?" he snickers, eddie's memories flicking through his mind like a rolodex, "he let's you tell him what to do? that's cute."
kas's clawed hand reaches up to curl around your throat, thumb narrowly missing the puncture wounds he left behind. with new leverage his pace quickens, "we're gonna fix that about you."
"you're gonna be," he begins, cock unforgiving in it's relentless punches in and out of you, "my pretty little courtesan -- hmm fuck -- you're gonna do what i say, when i say it. sounds nice, doesn't it?"
you whine, reaching for his wrist, weakly pawing at it before it lays limply by your side.
"c'mon -- you don't wanna think anymore, do you?" he coos, "just wanna -- shit, yes -- wanna lay there and be my plaything."
he readjusts, pushing one leg up so your knee hooks over his shoulder. the angle hits something in you that makes you desperate for more, a whiny moan pouring from your mouth.
"oh there she is," he grins, "yeah, that's what you wanna hear huh? locked up and away so i can have you whenever. use you -- breed you."
a needy moan escapes again, your body twitching alive while he pumps into you. your hips roll while he does, energy creeping into your veins, warming your skin. you're not sure how, not with all the blood you've lost -- but if this is what it costs to survive, you'd let him use you like this all night.
"oh you nasty fucking bitch," he laughs, breaths huffing against your cheek, "dirty fucking girl, letting me all the way in. that’s what you want, huh? to get pumped full’a me? be a blood machine – hm?"
"mmm ed, please more," you rasp out, needy for him to go deeper, harder.
his grip tightens over your throat, your tongue lolling out in need for more air, "what's my name?"
you choke out something inaudible, haze sliding over your vision again while he glares down at you.
the pressure increases, blood leaking out from your jugular while he shoves you into the mattress. "huh?! what's my name?"
"k-kas," you push out when he loosens his grip.
"much better, sweetheart," he hums, "much better."
he keeps you pinned down tight, cock drilling you into the sticky sheets. his hand creeps from your throat to the back of your head, ripping at your hair to pull you back so you'll face him. he doesn't blink, hard eyes staying on yours while he pummels into you without any signs of relent. he growls and grunts with each roll of your hips to meet his thrusts, almost proud that you're chasing your own pleasure while he takes his.
his hard gaze falters when you reach up to run your fingers over his face. the touch is feather light, tracing the edge of his brow bone to the side of his cheek. you know eddie's still in there, you know this is partly him. kas's gaze softens for a moment and you swear eddie is looking back at you. you lean in, aching for a kiss, for something gentle amongst the horrific night you've had so far.
"oh no, baby," he whispers, forehead pressing to yours. his ragged breaths mix with the wet squelches of him fucking into you, now as easy as if you've always taken him -- like you're used to his size.
"i don't kiss my toys," he hums, "that’s only for real mates."
"and to be honest, sweetheart -- you're too pathetic for that."
your nearly pouty face is delicious to him, the hurt flashing through your mind feeds him as much as your blood has. he ducks down again to lick the dribble from your wounds, his wet tongue slippery over the sweat collecting there while he hovers over you. how can such a cold body make you so warm?
"but you're so special to him," he gravels in your ear, "he loves you, doesn't he?"
"y-yeah," you whimper out.
"well," he purrs, "that's too bad."
his speed quickens and your breath hitches, his body bends and contorts in a way that's nearly inhuman, fucking deeper and deeper into you with each painful snap of his hips.
"you're all mine now," he growls, arm hooking under your waist to lift you up part way. your bottom half floats off the bed with his strength beneath you, so numb with pleasure you can't feel the way his claws dig into you again. you can't feel this teeth sink into your calf while he grinds into you, barely pulling out just to push in again.
"m'yours," you squeak out, "m'yours, m'yours, m'yours -- oh god -- fuck, ohmygod fuck -- kas -- KAS."
with a sudden burst of energy you reach up while the peak of your orgasm hits like a freight train, tightening hard over his cock. our nails dig into the cold skin of his forearms, over his tattoos, dragging down hard and tight. he sputters and smirks at the stingy pain of your clawing at him, the feeling spurring him on as he fucks you through your writhing release.
"just like that," he huffs, droplets of blood flicking from his tongue onto your chest and sternum. his leathery wings tuck in to rest like hooks out of his shoulder baldes while he cages you in against the bed, eyes shut in concentration while he pumps in again, and again. with a final rough tug of your hair you hear and feel his guttural release. the only warmth from him being the sticky seed that he spills inside of you, cold mouth clamping down again on your neck for a final taste before his release comes to a close.
you're back to laying limp on the bed. spent. he looks over you, growls and grumbles in his breath, clicking and seething -- this must be his natural state.
"well weren't you fun," he grins, sick but sweet, "i'll have to try you again."
you whimper, unable to move this time, to think, to breathe.
"but i think i you taste better a little scared," he nods, "gotta make sure you forget this so you can struggle like you did tonight. that's -- oh sweetheart, it's just delicious."
when your eyes meet his again you can't look away, not that you'd want to -- he's beautiful like this. hair long and brushing his built shoulders, skin so pale it's nearly blue, eyes dark and glittering with angry satisfaction. eddie who? you think.
"adorable," he says smugly when he hears it in his head, "don't worry, i'll let that pathetic weakling have you back. he's miserable in here right now."
you don't know if it's hyponosis or the exhaustion from losing so much of your blood supply, but sleep comes quickly -- fading out while he holds your gaze, words you don't understand filling your ears and thoughts -- latin maybe? you couldn't guess. you're just so comfortable. so tired. and the bed is so soft, so warm. you have to sleep, right? you've been asleep this whole time.
you wake up in the morning feeling tired, mouth dry and tangy. your joints ache, your stomach rumbles. you look over on your nightstand to two empty bottles of wine, two empty glasses next to them.
when you sit up you look down, seeing that half of one of those bottles never made it to your lips -- your stained sheets shine back a purple red in your eyes. with a groan you turn over, sinking back into the covers, feeling the warm body of your boyfriend next to you. his dark curly hair pulled up in a ponytail, splayed across the pillow.
the night is hazy: dinner, creepshow, wine, kissing. when you both got upstairs you were tipsy -- you vaguely remember the spill of the wine, the drunk giggles, the way his mouth tasted like aged cabernet. both falling asleep before you could take it any further.
he stirs next to you, smiling when he sees you with a rub of his eyes.
"morning, angel," he says in a yawn.
"morning," you sigh, running a hand over your neck to rub at the muscles there -- aching and tense.
"you okay?" he asks, turning over to face you, two fingers tracing over your cheek.
"yeah just -- i think i slept weird," you shrug, "i'm definitely hung over."
eddie laughs, "me too."
"we didn't -- we didn't fool around last night, right?" you ask, "we both knocked out pretty early."
"i remember spilling the wine and then both of us saying we'd deal with it in the morning," he sniffs before stretching out, "and then i think i fell asleep in the wine stain."
you giggle, feeling his arms wrap around you. warm body against yours, he kisses you soft on the forehead, "you look pretty."
"thank you," your sleepy smile makes him smile back.
"you know what i'm in the mood for?" he asks, "such a weird craving but they knock a hangover right out of me."
"hm?"
"a bloody mary," he says with raised brows, like he's surprised with himself, "i think i got some stuff downstairs to make them."
"i'm not really into bloody mary's," you say with a scrunched nose. he offers you another kiss on the forehead before slowly climing out of bed.
he shrugs looking down at you, pulling on his abandoned pair of boxers from yesterday, "hm, suit yourself. more for me then."
when he snaps the band at his hips, you notice it. even sets of scrapes down his forearms toward his watch, your brow quirks, "hey, what happened to your arm?"
he looks down, and at first you think you catch a flicker of a smile before it turns into a confused frown, "weird...i don't know, sweetheart."
he looks at both arms all the way around before turning to look at you, almost coolly, "maybe we did fool around."
#eddie munson#kas!eddie#kas!eddie munson#dark!eddie munsn#dark!eddie#tw: dubcon#tw: dubious consent#eddie musnon x reader#kas!eddie x reader#eddie munson smut#kas!eddie smut#eddie munson x you#stranger things au#stranger things fanfiction
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