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this dude is either about to fall in love or mess us up real bad

The Ink Shop Part 2

Description: After your encounter with Eddie, things are beginning to get a bit more complicated; especially when you ask him for another little favour. But, will Eddie go for it?

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI this ain't for you, angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut, fem oral receiving, male masturbation.

A/N: OK when I said this will be in 3 parts I lied, it's totally going to be at least 4, maybe 5! Thank you for the love you've shown the first part, it's incredible! You're superstars.

❤️ If you like it please comment and reblog, it really makes my day!❤️

7k words

Masterlist Part 1

For some reason, the shop seems more welcoming today than ever. It might be the fact that the sun is shining, it might be the radio seemingly playing all your favourite songs, or it might be last night. Either way, you feel loose and free, laughing at jokes, smiling at everyone, and genuinely just happier.

Eddie saunters in thirty minutes late and you barely notice, apart from flashing him a bashful smile.

“Well hello there sweetheart, you seem chipper today.”

You roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation, but your smile is warm. “I had a good night's sleep, that's all.”

“Bet you did,” he grins, “you look real pretty.”

Looking down, you consider your outfit; you'd decided enough of the corporate clothes, this is a tattoo shop after all. So, you'd paired a roll neck sweater with a short jean skirt and sneakers. A more relaxed outfit to go with a more relaxed attitude. Before you can say anything in reply he strolls over to his station.

Right, so a few jabs, but he's being nonchalant. So put it out of your mind.

The morning moves quickly, a messy blur of clients and phone calls. After a fast lunch, the shop finally calms down a little. When you're focusing on sorting the mess of the heavy bookings tome in front of you, Eddie approaches, mischief glinting in his eyes.

“I see London, I see France…”

You follow his bowed head and cross your legs in sheer embarrassment, realising a sliver of your panties must be on display.

“Eddie!”

He simply laughs, throwing his head back far enough that your gaze drifts to his Adam's apple.

“Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a big fan of this skirt,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes, “anyway I wanted to ask-”

His sentence is stopped however by the loud ringing of the old corded phone. You and Eddie share a look, yours begging and his smug. Before you can grab it, he picks up the phone, putting on a ridiculous British accent.

“Good Afternoon, London Underground Airways, this is your captain speaking- Oh shit Mac- Yeah she's- I know I'm not supposed to answer- Sorry I- Fine, here.” He brandishes the phone at you.

“Hello? Oh, of course I'll let them know- I understand- It'd be my pleasure- see you soon.” replacing the receiver, you make a note on the pad at your side.

“What'd he say?” Eddie asks, hovering over you.

Not giving him the satisfaction of a look, you continue to make your note, however perfunctory it may be. “Mac's going to be a little late, he told me to tell his next client.”

“He said my name, I heard it. What'd he say?”

Placing your pen down with a loud click, you turn to him.

You tell him as you smile smugly. “He told me to hit you for answering the phone.”

If anything, his grin grows broader. “Oh? Go on then princess, I'd hate for you to break the rules.” He turns his face, no doubt expecting a cuff to the back of the head.

Spinning on your stool, you slap him right across the cheek; not with all your strength, but certainly hard enough to remember. Eddie's face is a picture of shock, pink handprint already flushing his cheek.

But that just makes his smile wider.

“Harder.” He asks, eyes flashing arousal at you.

“Eddie!” you shout, pushing him away, but his laugh echoes through the shop. Before he has a chance to continue, a burly biker type walks right in the door.

“Good afternoon, can I help you?”

“Yeah, It's Jimmy, I'm here for Mac?”

“He's running a little late, but he'll be with you as soon as possible. Can I get you a coffee or something while you wait?”

You can't help but hear a huff from Eddie, but before you can question it he's drawing in his book, entirely oblivious to the outside world.

At the end of the day, you're tired, but still in fairly high spirits. It's the first time you've seen everyone in the shop at once. There's an edge to the air though, as if an expectation hangs over everyone.

So… bar?” Mac asks in a defeated tone, although he's smiling. Everyone reacts; Eddie woops, pumping his fist, even the usually reserved Miranda is clapping quietly. You smile and nod, finally understanding what the atmosphere was about.

As you all enter the dimly lit bar, chatting and laughing, you hear a low huff.

“What did I do to deserve this?” John is standing behind the bar. An imposing figure, his arms crossed and face surly, but there's a kindness in his eyes. Mac leans straight over and hands him a card.

“Easy John, I got this,” he chuckles. The card is accepted gratefully, the gruff demeanour lessening with the promise of payment.

You accept a bottle of beer and slide into a nearby booth, the rest of the group filtering in. Mac walks over, eyes the space next to you, then grabs a stool to sit at the head of the table. It throws you for a minute; surely he knows he can sit there? Before you can tell him so, Eddie waltzes across the room with a tray of tequila shots and all the fixings with a cheeky look in his eyes. He slides right in next to you, tray and all, and places it on the table with exaggerated care.

“Ladies, gentlemen.” He says, gesturing to the tiny glasses like an old timey butler. There's a succession of groans from the party, but despite this they all grab a shot. All except you.

“I don't think I-” you begin, but he's waving a hand in the air.

“Come on, you drink. It's a shot. Never had tequila before?”

Fixing him with a sharp look, your cheeks begin to redden of their own accord. Eddie smirks and tosses his head back, hiding his eyes with one hand.

“Shit princess, what did you do at college?”

“Study.” You say primly, but take a glass tentatively and place it in front of you.

“Right, so for the new guys…“ Eddie smiles right at you and licks his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That hint of silver mesmerises you, the ball of his tongue piercing catching the light. It's almost sensual the way he does it, your eyes automatically following the movement of his tongue. “salt right here…” he sprinkles some on the spot he moistened, “then, lick, shoot, suck.”

In a few fluid movements he licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and sticks a wedge of lime in his mouth. As your brain finally engages after that display, the little show that shouldn't have heated your insides up, you follow along, and take your shot with everyone else. It's easier than you would have thought, the lime easing the burn somewhat.

Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table and whispers low enough for you to hear.

“Good girl.”

Shooting daggers with a simple look, he just smirks, leaving his hand on your bare leg as if challenging you. Dimly, you hear the echoes of a conversation in front of you; it's Julio, arguing about good tequila not needing salt and lime, but you're lost in the deep pools of Eddie's chocolate eyes.

For a moment, your body flashes red hot and you regret your choice of the high necked sweater. Tearing your eyes away you look at something, anything, but Eddie.

The conversation drifts between all manner of subjects and you start to relax, the beer and tequila swimming in your belly loosening your tongue. It's nice, having a chance to chat and giggle with your coworkers in a setting not interrupted by the constant buzzing of tattoo machines.

Julio and Chloe end up in a full scale argument about the karaoke machine in the corner. Before you're subjected to the horror of having to sing in public, you get up to grab another beer. Perching on a stool by the bar with your purse in hand, you're waiting patiently to be served.

Eddie strolls over. You see him in your periphery; that confident walk as if he owns the very ground he walks on. Casually he hops up on the stool next to you, making no effort to hide the way he undresses you with his eyes.

“Quit staring Eddie,” you say testily as you knock the bar with your bank card.

“Now I can't look at you?” He asks with an amused grin.

“I said quit staring, not quit looking,” you huff out.

“What's the difference?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his nose at you.

You groan, turning on your stool to face him. “You are impossible,”

He sticks his long tongue out childishly, flashing his piercing at you.

Thankfully, John's voice cuts through the squabble. “What can I get you?”

“May I have a beer, please?”

“You certainly may.” John cocks his thumb in your direction, addressing Eddie, “I like this one, she's polite. Don't scare her off.”

Eddie dramatically holds his chest. “You wound me, sir!”

Two beers are placed on the bar and John waves your card away. “Don't worry about it, Mac's treating you guys tonight.”

As you swig your beer, you contemplate for a moment, trying to work out something.

“You're staring, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, as he gulps his drink.

“I wasn't staring, I was thinking! I know that's a foreign concept to you.” It's catty, you know that, but he just seems to bring it out in you. No one else has annoyed you so much in your life just by… being.

“That was rude. I thought we were playing nice?” he pouts playfully.

“Sorry. I- Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, shoot.”

Turning to him, you speak what's on your mind. “Why do people get their tongues pierced? No one really sees it. I get like, nose and eyebrow piercings and stuff, but the tongue one I don't understand.”

Eddie's grin is wide as he bites his bottom lip and stares at you. Well, you couldn't call it a grin. It's a flash of teeth, almost wolfish in its delivery.

“Oh princess, you are too cute.”

Staring at him with your brow furrowed, you try to work out what he means, but the longer you take, the more amused he looks.

“What? What is it?”

Sighing, he leans closer, the scent of aftershave, cigarettes and man clouding around you. “It's got a purpose, sweetheart.”

“What, like, kissing?”

Shaking his head, he looks you up and down. “Kinda. Kissing somewhere… specific.”

Realisation breaks across your face, followed by a fierce blush that you can feel to the roots of your hair. Laughing, Eddie pulls away a little and takes a mouthful of beer.

Voice an airy whisper, you lean over to him as you speak. “And girls like that?”

His laugh is so loud it reverberates around the bar.

“Yeah, a lot, in my experience.”

“Oh.”

Well, the thought is there now, and you're pretty sure it won't ever go away, not without some sort of mind bleach. Eddie's head between your legs, his long tongue exploring your sex. The image is burned into the back of your brain, playing on a loop.

“You're looking a little hot there,” he says, as if he can read your thoughts. It's fair to say it wouldn't take a psychic to know what's rattling around your head right now.

“I'm fine, this sweater is too warm,” you shake out, pressing your thighs together.

“Liar.”

Mouth opening and closing like a fish, you finally snap it shut with a crunch. Curiosity is eating away at you, and it's too easy to say what's on your mind after a couple of drinks.

“Eddie, could you… tell me, what- what it's like?”

He chuckles lightly and scoots closer to you. “you know I can't, I've not exactly had the pleasure.”

“I know that, I mean…”

For a second he just gapes at you.

“Wait, princess, are you asking me to tell you or… show you?”

Flustered, you turn away a little. “Sorry that's- that's too much isn't it. It's just you… did such a good job with the, you know, the other thing, I was just curious.”

Eddie bites his lip, puffing out a little breath. “You know, flattery works with me. I did a good job, huh?”

“Well, yeah. I can imagine you'd be really good at… that too. I could, owe you a favour?” It's bold, especially from you, but the way he's looking at you, the slight flush to his cheeks, you'd put money on him agreeing.

Eddie stares at you incredulously. “Wait, you're saying you want me to stick my tongue in the holiest of holes and then you owe me a favour?”

“Yeah? Like a little… arrangement.”

He rubs his face with his hand, his voice muffled as he speaks. “I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you.”

That confuses you for a moment. Surely you were the one who asked him? Hesitantly you reach out and touch soft fingertips to the back of his hand.

“Please?”

“Fuck.” He looks around, and turns to you, gazing into your eyes for a moment.

“Fine. Right now.”

“Oh I didn't-”

“Listen, before I change my mind. Meet me out back. I'll tell the guys you're not feeling well and I'm taking you home.”

Wordlessly, you grab your purse and head to the back door, heart hammering in your ears. It's a little dank out here, with the sound of a dripping pipe and moss covering the cement. Eddie comes out a moment later looking more serious than you've ever seen him.

“You sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes.

‘Yeah, but…” you look around the small yard, gesturing vaguely.

“Oh. Oh! You thought- oh Christ no, not here. I'm not a complete asshole. Come with me.”

Letting out a relieved breath, you follow him. He walks over to a gate in the fence and opens it, which leads down a narrow alleyway, a little shortcut between yards. That eventually opens up to another road with a couple of apartment blocks. The one he moves towards looks mostly clean, if a bit lifeless, with a creepy looking van parked out the front.

“This way sweetheart,” he says, leading you through the courtyard and to the stairs.

For a second you stop in sheer surprise.

“Wait, you live this close and you still manage to be late for work?”

He chuckles, looking at you over his shoulder. “I have a condition, you know. Chronic tardiness; I'm afraid there's no cure.”

You bat him on the arm playfully and he grasps your wrist, stopping on the stairs briefly, giving you a look that is wickedness personified.

“If you're gonna hit me, do it properly.”

“Eddie!”

He laughs loud and grabs your hand, holding it in his until he reaches his door. That alone is enough to shut you up. It's warm and rough, and the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how tiny, sends bolts of sensation through you.

“Right, here is my castle,” he says as he opens the door and lets you inside.

Chaos. That's the first word that crosses your mind. It doesn't look dirty, there's just things everywhere. A bookshelf stuffed with books and weird little trinkets placed any which way dominates one wall, and another on the other side with a huge music collection. There's a poky little kitchen with a couple of pots still in the sink, and a big couch with mismatched cushions takes up the remaining space. A tower of board games is precariously leaning next to it, and on the wall over the TV is an honest to goodness sword.

“It's nice,” you say as you walk in, as if you're not mentally organising it in your head.

“You hate it.” He scoffs, pulling his boots off and dumping them by the door.

“No, no, it's very… you.”

“I stand by my previous statement.” He grins at you, clearly indicating he wasn't being entirely serious.

“This is the bedroom.” He walks over and nudges the door open with his foot. Surprisingly, apart from an open clothes rail, an overflowing laundry hamper, and an enormous bed, there's not much in it. The wallpaper is a pretty purple colour, and looks oddly familiar.

“Eddie isn't that the same wallpaper-”

“-As the shop? Yeah. Mac let me have the leftovers. I was broke and this room was fucking pink.”

You snort out a laugh; the thought of Eddie with a pretty pink bedroom was rather unbelievable.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I can live with purple.” He roots around and grabs a pair of sweats. “Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna change real quick.”

Then he walks out into another doorway, you assume the bathroom. The urge to snoop is real, but you resist. It looks like he spends less time here anyway.

The question is, how comfortable are you supposed to make yourself? Nerves start settling in, the thought of what you've asked him to do is finally sinking its way into your mind and down your jangling spine. What if he doesn't like the underwear you're wearing? God, you've been at work all day, what if you smell bad? Or taste bad? What if-

“You can sit down, princess.”

Eddie saunters back in, shirtless, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you see his cut groin. A little squeak hiccups out of your throat at the sight. You stay standing, ready to make your excuses and leave, but the signal hasn't reached your legs just yet.

“What's wrong?” his eyes are brimming with concern as he steps toward you.

“No I- I was- maybe this-”

“Hey, look at me,” he says, grabbing both of your hands. You stare up at him, his face gentle.

“Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's nothing.”

“But i haven't showered-”

“When did you last?”

“Well… this morning.”

“You're fine. Trust me.”

He backs you up onto the bed, your knees folding as you flop down. The air around you feels full, humid with anticipation. He's so close, your bodies almost pressed together.

“I wanna kiss you.” He says softly, stroking a lock of your hair out of your face. Heart leaping into your throat, you try to suppress the urge to lean forward. The last thing you need is to fall for this man. Chloe's words echo in your head; he's not boyfriend material.

He'll break your heart.

“That's not part of our deal, Eddie.”

A frown flickers across his face. It's just for a second, a flash of vulnerability, before his usual cocky smile returns.

“That's not where I wanna kiss you.” He winks and tugs at your top, “can I take this off?”

Nodding wordlessly, you help him and wriggle it up and over your head.

“God damn.” Eddie props up on an elbow, running a finger between your breasts, before following the edge of your black cotton bra.

He looks up at your face, grinning wide, and points at your neck; little purple marks adorn it. “That why you wore that sweater today?”

Flushing crimson, you run fingers across your neck.

“Yeah, you marked me Eddie. Not exactly discreet.”

He chuckles, stroking the side of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I won't do it again. Well, not anywhere that anyone can see.”

Heat floods your stomach, the stark realisation that you want him to mark you clings to your insides. If he notices your reaction he doesn't say, instead he leans toward you pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“You're really pretty. I don't know if I said that before.”

Awash with a new heat in your cheeks, you smile bashfully. “Thanks, I don't get told that very much.”

Staring at you, he shakes his head.

“You should. You should be told every fucking day.”

You open your mouth, but before you can reply he kisses your jaw, running his tongue down your neck, before he presses his mouth to the top of your breast, sucking roughly. A gasp flies out, and your hand makes a decision entirely on its own to grab his hair.

It seems it was the right thing to do, judging by the deep groan that comes from him. It seems to spur him on, and he yanks the cup of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue teases it, rubbing his piercing over the pebbled nub.

“Oh Holy fuck!” Back arching with the foreign sensation, you revel in it, wriggling underneath him. He smirks against your skin, and takes your nipple between his teeth. Moaning loudly, you pull his hair.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He looks up at you, pupils blown to black, “can’t hold back if you do that.”

It's not a dare, but it tastes like one, and before you can think you're tugging at it again. Eddie's eyes roll back, and a hard look crosses underneath his eyes.

His actions turn a little feral, pulling you up so he can unhook your bra, practically ripping it off you before his mouth is all over your chest, firm fingers digging into the flesh of your hip.

“Fuck, Eddie” you stutter it out, voice laced with need.

“Yeah?” He whispers out breathlessly between urgent kisses, making his way down your stomach. Suddenly he takes the flesh of your hip in his mouth and bites down little before sucking a bruise as you writhe under him.

He reaches your skirt, hooking fingers into the waistband as he looks up at you, his tone urgent. “Can I?”

As you nod frantically, he reacts immediately, yanking it down along with your underwear.

“Fuck, look at you.”

The urge to close your legs is real, embarrassed at the way he's ogling you right between your thighs. They quiver with tension, but Eddie forces them open with his large palms.

“Don't hide from me. You still want this?”

You nod, and his head snaps up to look at you. His voice is hard, swirling around your insides with an intensity you're not used to from him.

“Say it. You need to say it.”

‘Yes, please Eddie.”

That satisfies him. He leans forward, breath ghosting over your clit. You're waiting for his mouth, his tongue, but that's not what happens. He inhales you, nose so close it's almost touching your sex.

“Jesus Christ, you smell so fucking good.”

“Eddie!” you cry it out, cringing at his words as you bury your face in your hands.

“Relax princess, it's a compliment.”

Before you can retort that it's not a compliment, it's weird, and he's a freak for saying it, it no longer matters. He's licking a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, long tongue pushing against you hard in an animal-like gesture.

The noise that expels from your chest is inhuman, a choked, guttural breath that belongs in a cave somewhere, not a bedroom.

He doesn't relent, his mouth exploring every inch of you with a ferality that has you tingling all the way to your toes. His fierce movements, accentuated by the bump of his piercing, have you nearly leaving the mattress. You're not sure if you're trying to get more, or move away. Not that it matters. His hands are holding you so firmly that all you can do is wriggle helplessly like a fish on a line.

Fingers trace the outside of your entrance before they slide in, beckoning your release. Whimpering, you grasp the bedsheets in a need to keep contact with something real.

“Talk to me,” he says between mind numbing messy kisses to your clit, “good, yeah?”

“Eddie, f-fuck, its incredible, please, oh God, k-keep going!”

You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he dives back in, suckling at your clit with an unmatched fervour, his tongue piercing flicking expertly as he does so. Suddenly, you're not creeping toward your release, you're being hurtled toward it, thrown into the depths of absolute pleasure.

Hands finding their way into Eddie's hair again, you hold on tight, buckling up for the ride. It's almost violent the way he pulls your climax from you, and you scream loudly, almost folding in half before you fall back onto the bed.

Eddie sits up, hands placed on your thighs, as he grins proudly, face shining with your slick.

“You OK princess?”

OK doesn't seem to cover it. You're panting wildly, each breath shallow and ragged, brain melted into soup.

“Think you can go again?”

That gets your attention. You sit up, gaping at him. “Again?”

Chuckling, he runs a finger up your slit and circles your clit in a teasing manner. The slight touch has your thighs trembling.

“I think you've got at least one more in you.”

Without a further word he presses his tongue against you. On instinct you grip his hair once more, bucking your hips up.

“Fuck, that's it sweetheart, ride my face.”

This time he slips his tongue inside as his nose nudges at your clit, the thick muscle curling and writhing. Holding on tight, your hips know what to do, your body reacting and rolling to meet him.

You're yanking his hair hard as you grind against his face, pulling deep grunts and moans from him which vibrate inside of you. It feels primal, sheer need clouding your mind, a fog that rolls into every limb and leaves no part untouched.

“Eddie, fuck!” You moan loudly as your walls clench around his tongue, another climax bubbling its way to the surface. He doubles down with his efforts almost as if he needs this as much as you do.

With one final thrust of his tongue you whine out your orgasm, back finally touching the bed once more. There are no thoughts, only your heavy breath and beating heart keeping you in the moment.

After a few seconds that seem to stretch on for a year, he hovers over your face. He's wiped off your release, but nothing could wipe that smug grin.

“So? Good?”

It's not like he doesn't know. You pat blindly at his arm, words stuck in a puddle on your tongue. In an unexpected tender gesture, he swipes his thumb over your chin, his gaze pensive. You stare back, fingers reaching out to gently touch his cheek.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You whisper, the words pooling from you unbidden.

For a split second you think he's going to lean in and close the gap, but he flashes his teeth at you and flicks the tip of your nose.

“That's not part of the deal.”

Disappointment leaks into your stomach. Which is entirely unfair. He's using your words after all. Fighting the feeling, you force a smile.

“I think I'll need a wheelchair to get home.” You chuckle, indicating to your still twitching legs.

“Stay here. I'll take the couch.”

“Oh, no, Eddie, I couldn't kick you out of your own bed thats-”

“Hey, it's fine, honestly. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” He shrugs and rolls off the bed and onto his feet in one quick movement like a cat. “Here. If you want something to sleep in.” He hands you a faded t-shirt. Hesitating for a moment, your hand hovers over it, but he stuffs it into your grip.

“Honestly, it's fine. I can drop you home before work so you can get changed and stuff. No big deal.”

“What about your chronic tardiness?” You joke, smiling softly at him.

“You're here, I'm sure you'll whip me into shape.”

“You'd probably like that,” you tease.

“More than you know.” He winks again, and walks to the doorway. “Night, princess.”

“Night Eddie.”

When he's gone you shrug the shirt on. It's clean, but there's an undercurrent of pure Eddie still there that's more comforting than you'll care to admit. Then, you lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Well. You certainly weren't expecting to end up in Eddie's room, in his bed, but here you are. You're not sure what this all means just yet and processing it is just hurting your brain. A part of you is saying that you should get out now whilst you can. Another, louder part is telling you this is where you should be. The only problem: is this message coming from your heart, or much lower down?

Chloe drifts into your mind whilst you lay there. Did they hook up in this bed? Are you in the same place she was? And how did that end? Clearly it was on good terms, considering how friendly they are, but how many girls have been where you are right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?

After a while your thoughts just start to ache, leaving a migraine behind your eyes. Shifting on the bed, you try to get comfortable, but it's no use. You wonder if Eddie is still awake. After all, he's the only one that can answer your questions.

Sitting up a little, you listen intently for any signs of life from the next room, but no matter how hard you strain your ears, you can't hear anything.

As you quietly get up and creep to the door, you press your ear to it. Maybe that was a word you heard, a loud breath, or the signs of an overactive imagination. Turning the doorknob like a safecracker, you inch the door open ever so slightly to peek beyond.

There he is, laying on the couch, eyes tight shut and face contorted in concentration. Odd. You slowly guide the door open a little more and your eyes nearly bug out of your head.

Eddie's laying there, hand down his sweats, tugging at himself like there's no tomorrow.

You almost cry out in shock but manage to swallow the noise just in time. For what feels like a full minute you stand and stare, mouth gaping open. It's like you're hypnotised, unable to tear away from his urgent movements.

A particularly good stroke has him bucking into his hand, and he lets out this strained whimper that shoots directly between your legs.

Right, stop. This is wrong. How would you feel if he caught you? …OK, bad example.

Reluctantly, you close the door again as quietly as you can before climbing back into his bed to stare at the ceiling once more.

It looks like it's going to be a long night.

********************

“You look really great,” Chloe says as she strolls into the shop, handing you a coffee, “like, happier, more relaxed.”

It's a few days after your impromptu sleepover at Eddie's place, and she's absolutely right. You do look more relaxed, even you've noticed the change. There's more confidence in you, and a smile that was once a little forced is warm and genuine.

“Thanks, I think I'm getting more comfortable here.” It's not a lie, exactly, but it's certainly not the whole truth.

“Good, glad to hear it!” She beams at you and heads to her table.

The bell over the door chimes once again startling you. Miranda and Mac are already here and it couldn't possibly be Eddie this early.

“Um… Hi.” A gangly youth walks in, all arms and legs and bright blonde hair. He shuffles over to the counter awkwardly.

“Morning, can I help you?”

“Y-yeah, you do walk-ins today, right?” He asks, brandishing a crumpled flyer at you.

Face lighting up, you fix your best smile.

“Why yes we do, it's walk-in Wednesday. It's a little early though. Can I see some ID?

He hands it over. The guy's freshly 21 and knows it, puffing out his little pigeon chest with pride.

“Excellent. It's about 10 minutes until we open, but Miranda will be with you. Miranda, you got a book for this guy?”

Confusion paints Mirandas's face, but then she smiles.

“A walk in? Wow.” She strolls over and hands him her portfolio of designs, introducing herself.

When Eddie finally turns up, there's another guy waiting.

“You're not my 10:30.”

The poor boy looks at him nervously like he did something wrong.

“Eddie, he's a walk-in.” Mac says, calling over his shoulder.

Eddie smirks at you and leans over the counter.

“Well well, bet you're happy. Atta girl.”

Blushing profusely, you move to tap him on the arm in warning, but he grabs your hand and kisses it. Heat flies straight to your belly at the gesture.

“Let me know when my 10:30 is here, alright sweetheart?”

He's still holding your hand, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. Weakly you nod, gazing at him as your toes curl in your shoes.

Shooting you a wink, he ambles over to his station as you watch him, eyes drawn to the way he moves.

There's three more clients asking about Wednesdays; granted, one didn't have an ID, but the other two were seen and inked, and one even booked a follow up with Miranda.

Buzzing with job satisfaction, you're grinning when you nip to the restroom, walking through the narrow corridor. As you exit, you're immediately accosted by Eddie. He stands close, a hand loosely holding your wrist to keep you there as he bends to whisper in your ear.

“Now, you're not supposed to touch fine art, but someone's gotta pin you against the wall and nail you right.”

“Eddie!” You whisper shout at him, only serving to make him chuckle low in his throat.

“Sorry, couldn't resist. I have an idea, for that favour you owe me?”

Body tensing of its own accord, you look up at him, your cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. Before you can ask what it is, a voice cuts through the tension.

“Hey, keep it at home guys.”

Mac's standing at the other end of the corridor with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Pursing your lips, you wriggle from Eddie's grip.

“It's not what it looks like Mac, I promise.” You say, shouldering past Eddie.

“Come on sweetheart, don't get all shy on me now!” He shouts, walking after you.

You ignore him, giving Mac an apologetic look, and sit back down at the counter. God, that was embarrassing. Seems like professional and discreet are out the window.

“So, as I was saying-”

“Eddie, stop, not now.” you say, cheeks bright red.

“I was only-”

“Eddie please! I don't want to get into trouble!”

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, but backs off finally.

You make a very clear point of being busy until the rest of the day, completing any ad hoc tasks you can think of. Tidying the stock cupboards, refreshing the consent sheets, and even organising the sparse counter. Anything to avoid further comment from Mac.

When six rolls around you turn to talk to Eddie, but he's already leaving without a glance at you.

Sighing, you make your way outside and home, trying to ignore the little sting in your chest.

********************

It's Saturday before you see him again. Your day off was mostly spent worrying about how you upset him and thinking about everything you could have done differently.

By the morning you're an emotional wreck, anxiety having done her job and left you a bubbling mass of maybes. When Eddie storms in the shop with a proverbial rain cloud over his head your heart pangs in your chest.

He's such a big character, and you didn't realise until now the influence this has on this place. Usually he's energetic and upbeat; however, with this melancholy energy coming from him, everyone seems to stoop a little more, eyes a touch downcast, movements more shuffled and broken. It's like a black hole has descended on the shop, pulling joy from your soul and sucking everything into its gravity.

The tattoo shop is quiet for a Saturday. Not from lack of customers; it's just a more hushed and sullen atmosphere. By the afternoon you decide enough is enough and you grab Eddie's arm between clients.

“Eddie, can I talk to you?”

He gets up, stretching his back in a feline movement, and walks with you slowly to the stockroom.

“Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, I didn't want to upset you and I can't stand seeing you like this and-”

“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You been worrying? About me?” He tilts his head, giving you a small lopsided smile.

“Yeah? I thought you were mad at me.” You mumble out.

“Oh, princess, come here.” He wraps you in his arms, holding your head close to his chest. A relieved breath puffs from your chest as you melt into the hug.

“That's not what I'm upset about, I promise.”

You pull from the embrace to look at him, a hopeful smile tugging at your lips.

“Really?”

Stroking your cheek softly, he presses his lips together. “You're adorable,” he moves his hand away and starts waving his arm about as he tells you what's wrong.

“You know I'm in a band? Well we've got this regular gig at Hatters, which is great and all, but I found out they're looking for more bands at The Pit. That big rock club on Main? I've been trying to get hold of the damn owner but he's ignoring all my calls and I'm pissed off.”

Grinning, you grab his arm. “Eddie, I can totally help you with that.”

His gaze is soft and warm as he asks “Really? You'd do that for me?”

“Of course I would. You got their number?”

He digs around in his pocket and passes you a wedge of shiny paper. Unfolding it, you look at the details, smiling even wider when you see they're attempting a ladies night. There's a telephone number at the bottom, the contact listed as William.

“I gotta idea. Just roll with it, OK?”

He looks confused but nods at you. Skipping to the counter, you pick up the phone and dial the number. When it's answered by a young woman, you speak with a nasal voice, sounding almost bored.

“Is Bill there?- Tell him it's Barb- oh trust me he's gonna wanna take this call honey.”

Eddie's staring at you with an amused expression; you look back at him, flashing a smile while you wait.

“Bill! How long has it been! Oh, don't say you don't remember me… oh, you do!- I'm good, I'm good- I'm managing this band, yeah, you've gotta book them- Corroded Coffin- yeah, yeah- They are hot right now, selling out their shows- look I know you're struggling getting the ladies in, but that's about to change. Their lead singer is- well lemme tell you, if I were a younger woman- haha yes, sounds great! Next Saturday?- Nine- Great stuff- I'll speak to you soon.”

Placing the phone down with a little click, you cross your legs and look at Eddie smugly.

His jaw may as well be on the floor, eyebrows so high that he resembles a cartoon character.

“Barb? Selling out their shows? If I were a younger woman? Where the fuck did that come from?”

You giggle, “I thought he'd listen if he thought I was a business connection. I took a shot, a little bullshit can take you far.”

He swoops over to you and grabs you in his arms, lifting you bodily from your seat and swinging you around as you squeal helplessly.

“Saturday? Not even midweek? Princess I owe you big time.”

“Eddie I already owe-”

He's not listening, running over to Mac and bouncing on the spot like a child. “Mac, Mac, did you hear? I'm playing at The Pit!!”

You watch as he explains what just happened; he's so animated, gesticulating wildly as loose locks of hair fly from his bun. Mac beams at him and hugs him in a fatherly motion before Eddie springs back over to you.

“Who the fuck is Barb?”

“I dunno, she sounded worldly.”

He grins, shaking his head, “I can't believe you lied for me. You seem… different lately. More confident. It suits you.”

Blushing, you thank him. For a second you stare at each other, both lost in the other.

Eddie shakes his head, and looks at the time.

“Fuck, right, I got 20 minutes, I'll be back!” He grabs his coat and runs out of the shop shouting “personal errand!”

Chuckling, you sit back down at the counter. Mac approaches, smiling softly.

“You did good Miss, he's really happy.”

“Thanks, I couldn't bear the sulking.”

He laughs and touches your shoulder, “he cares about you. In case you didn't notice.”

He walks away nonchalantly as if he didn't just drop a bomb at your feet. Eddie cares about you? You're still pondering it when he returns a half hour later looking sweaty and dishevelled.

“Princess, I got you a present,” he whispers, brandishing a nondescript black bag at you. You peek inside and shut it immediately.

“Eddie what the fuck!” You whisper, face flooding with blood at the sight as you hide it under the counter. There's a sex toy in the bag, well at least one, but you were so shocked at the sight you didn't get a good look.

He chuckles and leans in close. “Thought you'd like it.”

“Eddie I don't know how to- to use this stuff,” you mumble quietly, looking around to make sure no one's listening.

He smirks at you in response.

“You free tonight? I can show you.”

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes @tlclick73 @reidsgubbler @siriuslysmoking @keanureevessmile @fhsbsvy @yourdailymemedelivery @aurora-austen @rach5ive @honey-teaaaaaaaa @nina211544 @bbabycass @cactusangie @skrzydlak @took-me-hours-to-steal-those @hereforshmut @nabiiturner @darlingbravebelle @freak-of-hawkins @randomworker @serenadingtigers @1paire2vans @sapphire4082 @xmasterofmunsonx @steamystrangerfics @vol2eddie @storiesbyrhi

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

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strawberrysodaslut · 1 day

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Ethel Cain // Omeara // 06.12.2022

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strawberrysodaslut · 3 days

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the circuits in my head are turning

I teamed up with @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing to bring you some Stranger Prompts directly from the Twilight Zone.

Choose a prompt from the list, add in your choice of Eddie or Steve, and spin the story however you like! Please mention us so that we can enjoy your creations and tag the fic "strangerprompts".

18+ONLY MDNI

He shows up at your house covered in mud in the rain, but the problem is, he died two months ago.

You mistake him for the man who is supposed to be your blind date, and he decides to go along with it.

You register for a supernatural dating app

You get a phone call and find out it's a wrong number but realize that you don't want to stop talking to the person at the other end. Come to find out, he's from another decade.

A stranger leaves a letter in your mailbox. It says, "we don't know each other, but I need someone in this world to know..."

You move into a new apartment and soon discover that you share a wall with a very noisy neighbor. Loud laughter, talking, and music are a constant companion. When you decide to go over and knock on their door to confront them in person, you find that the apartment is unoccupied and has been for months.

You find a box buried in the backyard of the place you just moved into and there is something unexpected inside.

You step into a hole-in-the-wall bar for a drink and suddenly find yourself in a different decade.

You both decide to get a tarot reading on a whim, but then the predictions start coming true.

You put an ad in the paper saying you need a date to an event, and he answers it.

You find a man hiding in your house, and he says he's from another dimension.

You find an old diary from the 80's at a thrift shop and take it home with you. You start reading it and a face appears in your dreams.

You're switching stations on your radio when you pick up the signal of someone on a Walkie Talkie. They say they're in trouble and give their location.

You both unknowingly book the same haunted Airbnb and find out you're stuck together for the night.

It's rush hour and you're stuck in standstill traffic. He is in the vehicle next to you and motions for you to roll your window down.

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strawberrysodaslut · 5 days

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REBLOG IF YOU HAVE STRETCHMARKS

This way people can see they’re not alone. I have them and this would help me see that.

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strawberrysodaslut · 8 days

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By the way guys if Nancy Wheeler was ever charged and fined with every crime she’s committed she’d be sentenced to 106 years in prison and fined $98,000

And she’s seventeen years old

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strawberrysodaslut · 10 days

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i will ALWAYS scramble when i see more 24 hours

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"NIGHT TIME RELIGION"

EXTRA CONTENT- "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 2.3k+ → a/n: just a simple, sweet glimpse into what our favorite idiots' nighttime routine is like. probably got a little too poetic with it, as always <3

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

“You fell asleep again.”

It’s not a question, just a mere observation. Eddie doesn’t even put any emphasis on the key word there, that it had happened again, as he glances up on you sprawled out on his couch.

“Nuh uh,” you childishly rebuke, ironically squeezing your eyes shut tighter as you let your cheek nuzzle deeper into the page of the textbook you’d been taking notes on, “I’m… I’m wide awake.”

Every word painfully slurs with your next, voice mostly muffled. If he hadn’t been so close to you from where he was sitting on the floor, he probably wouldn’t have been able to make out what you’d just murmured.

It only makes him laugh softly as he focuses back on whatever piece of equipment he’d brought into the apartment that belongs to his bike, “Sure you are, sweetheart.”

The coffee table is spread with hand towels and paper towels alike as Eddie fiddles with the hunk of metal. You hadn’t even prodded him about what it was he was fiddling with; you were too busy, knee deep in your studies as you’d made yourself comfortable in his living room.

It was a normal routine now – something cozy, something domestic. Instead of being holed up in your dorm these days, you found yourself occupying apartment 2C far more frequently than you’d ever admit to anyone else. Half the time, the two of you didn’t even have plans. It wasn’t about elaborate date nights or purposeful hangouts anymore; these days, the two of you simply enjoyed one another’s presence. It was enough to just know he was there with you, in the same room, as the two of you were occupied with your own individual tasks. Sometimes, he would be reading a book as you wrote your essays. Sometimes, he’d steal your laptop to shop for new bike parts and accessories online as you caught up on your favorite TV shows. There had been plenty of phone calls with Nancy in which Eddie had let you simply rest your head in his lap, hands mindlessly carding through the scalp of your hair as he tried to offer assistance to his best friend’s daily troubles and rambles.

It was nice, and it was normal, and it was something the rest of the world would have to pry from your cold, dead hands.

The apartment could have easily become something akin to a prison after the bet, but it hadn’t. Instead, somehow and someway, you and Eddie had turned it into a proper sanctuary.

You no longer spent lectures daydreaming about returning to your dorm; your mind much preferred longing to return to Eddie’s room, to picture falling face down in his bed, where the pillow on the right side had begun to smell of your shampoo rather than his cologne.

“It’s getting late,” he sighs when he hears you go silent again. He’s not annoyed by any means. If he had it his way, he’d probably curl up on the couch with you for the rest of the night, content to fall asleep to the view of your face smoothing out in peaceful rest. But he knows if he leaves you be, you’ll wake up with an aching back and an attitude that makes even Harrington cower. He puts down his project for the night, wiping his hands on a damp paper towel before he reaches blindly behind himself to give you a few taps on your rear, “C’mon, we need to get ready for bed.”

You swat his hand away, and it only makes him grin, “It’s not that late. Plus, I’m comfy.”

“It’s half past eleven, baby.”

And oh, do you shoot straight up at that.

Your eyes are finally wide open as you look at him wildly, face struck with confusion, “Excuse me?”

“I said, it’s half past ele-”

“When the Hell did it get so late?” you fumble with yourself as he slowly gets up, making a show out of stretching all his limbs. You don’t even grow distracted when his arms reach well over his head and tug up his shirt, exposing that sliver of stomach that would normally entice you, “I swear to God, it wasn’t even ten like…. Ten minutes ago.”

“Ten waking minutes ago, maybe,” he teases, holding a hand out for you, “Time flies when you’re napping instead of studying.”

It’s hard for him to not smile so softly down at you right now, even as he watches the defeat take hold. Your entire outfit is compiled of his clothes, yet another t-shirt you’d snagged from him along with a pair of sweatpants that he can’t even remember the last time he’d worn them. Your hair is messy, falling out of the convenient style you’d fashioned in it hours before when you’d declared you needed to focus. Your shoulders sag, the corners of your mouth inch downward, and all he really cares about right now is getting you in bed so he can wrap himself up around you.

Your eyes dart between his outstretched hand and your textbook, still open on a page that you’d embarrassingly drooled on, “I know we joked about celebrating when I aced my finals, but can we still get milkshakes when I absolutely flunk them?”

The way you manage to melt his heart is impeccable. He doesn’t even have it in him to be snarky, or to make another menacing jokes, “Of course we can.”

That seems to make your decision. You finally reach out and take his hand, clearly trying to be dramatic as you pull on him with the entirety of your weight, almost as though your end goal was for him to actually end up beside you on the couch rather than to be standing beside him.

If your goal is the former, you fail miserably. He doesn’t budge beneath your drag, only leaning forward to grab your other hand and properly haul you off the couch.

“Oof,” you huff out as you collide with his chest from the force, letting your face smash into him and making no move to pull back, “Can’t you just carry me to bed? Is that an option?”

He almost says yes. Almost.

“We won’t even make it down the hall,” he chuckles, taking slow steps back, guiding you right along with him, “I may or may not have also dozed off at some point. Jury’s still out on that one.”

“Is it?”

You’re hardly lifting your feet, shuffling your way along, letting him walk you deceiving to the bathroom rather than the bedroom. He has no idea if you’ll be capable of doing your full skincare routine, but at the very least, he has to get you to brush your teeth. If he didn’t, he’d never hear the end of it.

“It is indeed,” he finally stops walking backwards, deciding it might become more dangerous rather than just dragging you along, “Probably won’t get a ruling until morning, so we might as well brush our teeth now, doll.”

He’s trying to sweeten the deal. Coaxing you with adoring pet names to keep you in motion.

“Ugh, effort,” you crunch your nose as you say it, and it’s clearly more for show than anything now. You’re fully conscious, capable of getting yourself to the bathroom sink where both your toothbrushes now sit side-by-side in a glass cup, but you don’t let go of his hand just yet.

His palm is warm, and right now, all you really wanna do is curl up in that heat.

Eventually, though, you let go. The two of you stand in the mirror as you go through the motions of wetting your toothbrushes, applying the toothpaste – all the boring, mundane actions that are more habit than conscious choices. But interspersed in the habits you’ve gathered over your years of life are new ones, minimal but vital after the amount of time spent together. Proof of the way this nighttime routine had become something of a religion between the two of you, something to be offered and to be shared rather than simply going through the motions.

The way Eddie carefully rolls the end of the toothpaste tube before passing it to you, simply so it’s easier for you to get your share of it. The way you leave the water running after you’ve wet your own brush just so Eddie can also do so. All the sneaky glances caught in the mirror as the corners of your mouths foam up. Every ridiculous face, every nimble bump of your hip to his, the way he sticks out his very white tongue at you before he spits out into the basin – new things that have all become the normal, but still settle warmth in your chest.

Things that water a garden of vinery and blooms that no longer only belong within the confine of your bones, but his as well.

A shared garden of memories and comfort. Growing, flourishing, nurturing one another.

You lean down to spit right before him, and when you take a second too long, he tugs on a strand of your hair, trying to move you. And even as tired as you are, you find it within yourself to be a little shit as he so lovingly mumbles out around his toothbrush, lingering until he’s bumping you with his hip with purpose.

Passing the floss back and forth (or more like you shoving the floss into his hands before he can try to argue against it), using the same paper cup to sip mouthwash out of – something so bland that you used to do it alone, now something to enjoy with him.

You kind of love it. You kind of love him.

“Should I wash my face?” you question, leaning in closer to the mirror and poking at your cheeks, checking your skin for any blemishes you can find.

Eddie only moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and making the entire ordeal far more difficult as his chin rests on your shoulder, “Not if you don’t feel like it. Besides, it’s gonna make your nose cold, and then you’re gonna press it all over my damn neck and-”

You cut him off with a joking glare, reaching up to flick at his nose, but he’s quick to pull his face out of your reach. Smiling widely, showing off those fresh and minty pearly whites.

“If my cold nose bothers you that much, I could just stay on my side of the bed tonight,” you scowl, even though you were already taking his advice and calling it a night, twisting out of his hold to flick the lightswitch and exit the bathroom.

He’s still stronger as he keeps his arms in place, only twisting himself around to face the door frame right with you, whining in your ear, “No.”

He drags out the ‘o’, his voice slowly growing more quiet the longer he draws out the vowel. At some point, it’s less than Eddie has ended the protest, and more that he’s just run out of breath.

His arms only leave your waist for the two of you to get dressed in proper pajamas. Well, what you both consider proper pajamas.

You, left in only his shirt and underwear, and Eddie simply in his boxers.

There’s no more sarcastic comments or lazy banter, although you certainly expect it. You’re almost holding your breath for it, right up until Eddie’s lifting his comforter and eagerly motioning for you to climb into bed first. Not one smartass remark about ladies first that could easily backfire on him as you shoved him into the bed before you.

No, he waits until the two of you are lying on your sides, facing one another, not quite touching when his face breaks into a radiant smile.

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him, overly suspicious of his random burst of happiness.

“You call it your side of the bed.”

At first, you don’t get it, “What?”

“You called it your side of the bed,” he repeats with the utmost emphasis, finally throwing his hand out in search of your own, pulling it up to eye-level so he can toy slowly with each of your knuckles.

“Is it not?” you’re whispering like two children at a sleepover, your feet finally drifting to toe at his calves. If they’re too cold for his liking, you don’t know. He doesn’t flinch or complain, only spreads his legs ever so slightly so there’s a space left for you to fill as you intertwine limbs.

“It is,” he confirms, nodding a little, finally slotting his fingers between your own, “Just nice to hear you say it out loud.”

And suddenly, you get it.

It’s your side of the bed. It’s your toothbrush resting beside his. Your textbooks and laptops are still on his couch, you have a sticky note with a reminder for yourself to buy more milk put up on the fridge, there’s now a space for your shoes at the front door right beside his daily boots – slowly but surely, you’ve whittled out spaces for yourself here, with him.

Even when you’re not here in this apartment with him, your presence remains. Someone could walk in, and they still see traces of you. You exist here, constantly, right along with Eddie.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, finally scooching closer. He immediately shifts so that you can cuddle into his side, your head resting against his chest and your ear pressed to listen to his thrumming heartbeat. A perfectly carved out space for you even here, between this sheets, against his skin, “It’s nice to say out loud.”

Not a routine, but a religion. Something to worship in the quiet hours between the sound of quiet snores and a noisy coffee maker you already have plans to replace as a Christmas gift to Eddie. An apartment turned altar, with offerings from both of you, to all that has and could become.

You whisper your final prayer, just as you do every night, even when you think Eddie might already be fast asleep, “G’night, Eddie. I love you.”

He’s not already asleep.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fan fiction

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strawberrysodaslut · 12 days

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no because this has literally been me the last year or so 😬😬😬

thank you for following me I have nothing to offer

#i’ll do better i swear #again

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strawberrysodaslut · 12 days

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Listen pal, the subtitles stay ON.

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strawberrysodaslut · 12 days

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HOLY SHIT

twitter | instagram | tiktok | prints

Eddie Munson for Heavy Metal! ♥️ Basically the logo from metal hammer but I wasn’t really about to make my own magazine this time - so this is fine! I absolutely struggled with this piece. I really did. But I do like how it turned out. Wanted to jump on the magazine cover train for a while now.

#this is EVERYTHING #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson art #stranger things art #eddie munson x reader

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strawberrysodaslut · 13 days

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how was this both cute and kind of devastating i love it

too sweet (for me)

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of violence and drugs. eddie is a dick but not when it comes to r <333 :} female!reader

eddie munson had been hardened by life. how could one night possibly demolish all of the walls he had spent so long building?

a/n: sorry for being mia again lol i am trying i swear!! i have another eddie fic coming that i love and probably the other parts to the steve zombie au! i’m usually never busy but these last few weeks have been wild

the club is too loud, too busy and too sweaty. eddie wasn’t a fan, never had been.

he squeezes past the crowd, grumbling to himself as he goes. eddie preferred to be in bed by three. his mom was very spiritual and had drilled into him that nothing good could come out of being awake at the witching hour.

something or someone knocks into him, or vice versa, he can’t really tell. it’s too dark and he’s had too much to even really care.

“watch it,” you snap, twisting around to send the dirtiest glare.

“what the fuck? you bumped into me,” he shouts over the loud thumping beat. immediately wishing he could swallow his words, noticing your eyes narrow, sizing him up. you’re the prettiest girl in this place, the only one he’s even looked at twice and now you hated him.

“whatever asshole,” you snarl, before continuing your way to the busy bar.

eddie hesitates for a moment before shoving through the path you’d made, angering another ten people on his way. he didn’t care, that couldn’t be your only impression of him.

he catches up, squeezing into the tiny space next to you, leaning against the sticky marble as you wait patiently.

his hand brushes your arm, earning another sly glance, face screwing up as you realise he’d tailed you to the bar.

“sorry,” he starts, not giving you the opportunity to tell him to fuck off first. “i wanted to apologise.. i was rude,” tongue resting on his bottom lip, appreciating the new found lighting and how it made you glow.

“you were,” smiling pointedly, eyes trailing down his chest, “but you can buy me a drink to make up for it.”

eddie stares, mouth agape at your brutal, up-front attitude before it turns to a tiny smirk, “i think that’s fair,” honestly he admired it. the only girl in here worth a second glance.

“vodka,” you add, making room for him to order.

he takes one last admiring look at you before turning to the bartender.

you tunnel your way back through the crowd, your friends long gone by now. eddie didn’t mind keeping you company, not one bit.

his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you gently back towards him. rightfully earning another scathing glare as you stop, inches in front of him.

“you’re not gonna even tell me your name?” he leans in, smirking as he does.

your lips brush against his ear, name soft as silk as you mutter into his hair. it sends shivers down his spine, wanting your lips on his ear and his neck.

“eddie,” he replies, resting his hand on the small of your back, keeping you close in the packed club.

“are you a dancer, eddie?” the way his name rolls off of your tongue makes him unfathomably crazy.

“not really,” he mumbles, tongue poking out of his lips.

“too bad,” your smirk, pulling towards the bustling dance floor before he can argue against it.

he didn’t like clubbing nor dancing but if you insist, he couldn’t say no.

the music ripples around him, hazy when all he can focus on is you and the way your hips twist in time to the beat. you’re not even trying and yet he’s completely encapsulated by your body.

there’s an attempt at dancing along with you, though he’s not any good. itching to just place his hands on your waist and let you guide him.

the purple light catches your eye as you move closer, eddie’s eyes latched onto you the entire time.

“you’re really not a dancer, are ya’?” you lean in to whisper.

“can’t help it, i’m distracted,” he purrs, daring to place his hand on the small of your back.

you purse your lips, keeping whatever snarky comment to yourself.

fuck it.

“d’you wanna get out of here?” eddie asks, “i know a place.”

your brow quirks, “hm? how do i know you won’t kidnap me?”

he tilts his head, meeting your eye, “you’ll just have to trust me,” offering his hand for you to take, eager to get you out of this club.

really, he’d go anywhere if it meant he could look at you properly without getting elbowed in the back by sweaty drunks.

you hesitate for a split second, which he supposes is fair, before placing your hand in his, permission to lead you from the dance floor and out into the chilly night.

your arms wrap around yourself, shivering in the cold.

eddie doesn’t hesitate, taking his jacket off and placing it around your shoulders. “it’s not far from here.. we can walk?”

your eyes narrow once more, pulling his jacket tighter, “lead the way, eddie.”

he knows you’re trying to taunt him, maybe rile him up a little and by god is it working. taking your hand once more as you start the walk to his apartment, anticipating coursing through his veins.

the elevator ride up to his floor is hell, fingers twitching to touch you. he’d do it too, if you were alone. plagued with one of his neighbours just trying to get home as you hang off of his arm.

eddie’s thankful his floor is first, losing the will to not just grab you right then and there.

your mouth falls open, eyes flitting around the apartment he definitely didn’t pay someone else to decorate for him.

“you live here?”

eddie didn’t grow up around money. he lived in a trailer for most of his life, cramped into the tiny home with his uncle in some dead end town until he finally found the nerve to move himself to chicago.

there were dreams of a music career that wilted away pretty quickly after he realised that there were a hundred and one other screwed up teens just like him, all wanting the same thing.

selling drugs wasn’t exactly his chosen path but he’d sold a little weed in high school and found he wasn’t awful at it and now here he was.

with more money than he knew what to do with and a reputation for being a hard ass.

he doesn’t entertain your amazement, sidling over to you with his hands already finding their place to your waist.

“the bedroom’s even better,” eddie smirks, feeling your fingers twist around his t-shirt.

“go ‘head,” half-smile on your pretty lips.

your body brushes against his as you trail behind, not wanting to waste another second. he hasn’t even kissed you yet, has no idea how addicting you’ll taste, the slight hint of vanilla in your smudged lipgloss.

expertly twisting you around, stumbling over just slightly before he catches you, planting his lips on yours, manoeuvring your entwined bodies around the darkened room.

he’s done this dance a hundred times, but something about you feels different. you’re mailable, trusting in his hands to guide you to the bed while your hands sit atop his shoulders.

falling back onto the mattress, tugging him down atop of your body, fingers clawing at his collar while his hands roam your body, grabbing at your hips and waist.

eddie haphazardly reaches for the lamp, disconnecting your lips for a brief moment before the orange hue fills the room.

you groan in response, sprawled out on the mattress underneath him.

“i wanna see you,” he remarks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before he kisses you properly again. a full battle between teeth and tongues, barely catching against one another, lips wet with each other.

you sigh softly into his mouth when his hand travels beneath your dress, sliding between your aching thighs, panties already wet and begging to be torn off.

he doesn’t though, wanting to draw this out just a tiny bit longer, removing his fingers from your heat to toy with the hem of your dress.

“fuck,” you gasp, breaking away from his lips, “don’t be mean,” swollen bottom lip jutting out to make it all that much worse.

“okay,” eddie laughs quietly, “i’m done,” sticking to his word as your dress comes down in one rough tug, grunting as he does so.

he sits up on his knees, admiring the sight of your quivering body below. “worth it,” he remarks, tearing off his own t-shirt, and launching it across the room somewhere.

his jeans are next, shaking them off of his leg as they land on the floor with a soft thud.

your hand instinctively covers your chest, shying away from his hungry gaze.

“nuhuh,” eddie bites, pulling your arm away, pinning it underneath his as he comes back to your level, hovering just above. “don’t do that.”

you blink, pulling him closer with your free hand. the cat and mouse routine had been going on far too long, even for him. feeling your heat against his cock, almost painful to the touch as it strains his boxers.

“well if you hurried up..” you start, tilting your chin towards him with a tiny smirk.

eddie laughs loudly, yanking your panties down abruptly, “alright sweetheart, i hear ya,” returning his hand to between your thighs, spreading you open with his middle finger before sliding the digit in.

you huff in response, mouth falling open as that melodic tone he’s been waiting for falls from your lips, dancing around his ears.

your head falls back against the soft pillow, opening your legs further as he shifts fully in between, biting down onto his bottom lip.

“that better?” pumping his finger between your slick folds, your breath quivering with every move.

you nod quickly, readjusting your grip on his shoulder, taking a deep breath when his thumb finds your clit.

he can’t hold off any longer, pulling his fingers out and tugging his boxers down, cock springing up against his stomach.

“mhm,” he groans, teasing your sopping cunt with the tip of his already leaking cock, lapping up every last whine of appreciation you let slip.

eddie slides in, staggered breaths as he pauses, adjusting his position to allow his hand to find your hand, fingers intertwining while you huff into his ear.

“shit,” he utters, slowly thrusting his hips, gripping your hand tighter, pressing you into the mattress.

he wouldn’t have fucked around so much if he knew this is what you’d feel like.

your thighs squeeze around his waist, the soft skin encasing him. goading him on with your sweet breathless whines, repeating his name like gospel.

working his way to the hilt, debating why he could just sit there for a while with his cock buried deep inside of you or not.

your fingers twist around his curls, gently tugging on the messy mop atop of his head.

whimpering into the tiny shared space between your faces, your eyes fighting to stay open. cheeks warm and flushed, incoherent babbling trailing from your mouth.

“you.. you feel fuckin’ insane,” eddie growls, wishing he could swallow that familiar twist in his stomach, keep this going forever and ever.

the air is warm, filthy sounds of his skin against yours fill the room as you desperately move your hips against his. loosely connecting your lips in a hazy kiss, he can feel you tighten around him, whimpers strained and needy as you near your orgasm.

“ahh fuck,” eddie mewls, burying his head into the delicate skin of your neck, leaving lazy kisses in the crook. hoping he can hold out for just a minute more while you tremble around him. coming undone right beneath his body.

you hum into his ear, running your fingers along his scalp, pulling gently on his hair.

eddie can’t stop himself any longer, pulling his cock out of your cunt before he cums, letting his release cover your thigh instead.

your nails continue to trace through his hair while his mouths babbles a bunch of nonsensical bullshit into your neck, surely condemned by a life in hell for the blasphemous shit he was saying.

coaxing his head out of the comfort of your skin to gaze into his tired eyes, your heartbeats coinciding with one another.

instead of saying anything, you grin, laughing quietly to yourself. eddie thinks you’re crazy and yet, he’s sure he might’ve just fallen in love.

eddie feels like a creep, watching as you sleep, your leg twisted somewhere between his making him terrified to even think about moving.

he doesn’t want to startle you, in fact he doesn’t really want this to end. he knows that once you wake, he’ll be lucky to see you again.

maintaining relationships wasn’t exactly a skill he possessed.

you stir sometime later, feeling your way up his chest as you come around. maybe you’d think he was a freak, maybe you’d regret it and decide to file a restraining order or something.

“morning,” you croak, lips plump with sleep, eyes barely open as they peep at the other side of the bed.

“hi,” wanting to cringe at his complete lack of charm.

“you talk in your sleep,” you say pointedly, shadows of a smile on your lips.

“oh really? what was i saying?”

you shrug, “something about a fire,” scrunching your nose up. idyllic as you bask in the morning light, a real picture of beauty.

“a fire? that’s weird, i was dreaming about you,” undecided whether it were too much too soon.

you curl away from him, shying into the pillow when a bang at the door interrupts everything, damn near rattling his entire apartment.

you look to him again, confusion threading your brows together, “who’s that?” worry seeping through your tone.

“i don’t know,” well, he had a pretty good idea of who it probably was and he most definitely didn’t want to deal with that right now.

they bang again, eddie unfurling his arm from your waist, “i’ll be two minutes,” frowning to himself as he pulls his boxers on.

as expected, gareth and jeff stand outside, gormless as their eyes fall to his bare legs.

“woah,” gareth exclaims, eyes wide.

“what d’you two want?”

“you not gonna invite us in?” jeff presses, still marvelling at his legs.

“no.”

“why?” gareth peers into the apartment, “who’ve you got in there?”

“your mom,” eddie quips, “why are you here?”

the two idiots share a look, half-offended, half trying to figure out if eddie was telling the truth or not.

“well-“ they come closer, “we’ve got that shipment.. for the thing,” brows wiggling, “couple’a weeks and it’ll be in.”

this leads to eddie closing the door further round, in fear of you overhearing. he’s not sure how well received that’d be on your first morning together.

“shh,” he hisses, looking around the very empty corridor, “you couldn’t have told me this later?”

they shake their heads in unison, “murray said to let you know, no phones.. no paper trail.”

eddie searches both of their blank faces before nodding, “alright.. alright, you can go now.”

they oblige but not before jeff grabs his crotch, winking at eddie which makes him slightly uncomfortable and letting out an almost inaudible have fun before disappearing into the elevator.

the urge to knock their heads together had never been stronger, returning to his apartment to find you stood in the middle of his bedroom, staring at the pictures on his dresser.

“i used to be cute, right?” he knows exactly which one you’re looking at, startling at the sound of his voice.

you turn, still holding onto the frame, “is that your mom?”

“mhm,” he hums, taking the frame from your grasp, “she..” clearing his throat, “she died when i was younger,” tracing his thumb over the image of her crazy hair.

“oh,” you frown, looking at him with pitiful eyes, “i’m sorry.”

he shakes his head, hair falling out of the loose bun he’d thrown up, “don’t apologise,” placing the photo back in it’s rightful place, “she was sick,” turning to you with his half-moon eyes.

he wishes he hadn’t even said it, the look on your face was too woeful, especially after the large grin you’d had plastered on it just this morning.

eddie sniffs, jumping to action, “get dressed,” he practically orders, wanting nothing more than to change the subject, “we’re going out,” telling, rather than asking.

“where?”

he shrugs, opening the large closet which mostly consisted of plain black tees and his jeans.

“i don’t have any clothes.. or my toothbrush, give me an hour and-“

interrupted by a shirt flying over, just about catching it before it lands on the ground, “wear mine, there’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,” eddie nods, sliding into his own clothes.

you stare dumbfounded at the cotton, before glancing back at him, “uh.. i don’t- what if people think..”

he turns, smile already peaking through, “if people think what? that we fucked? oh no,” riddled with sarcasm.

“you’re not funny,” you pout though you shimmy into the t-shirt, “i didn’t mean that i just..” trailing off into silence.

eddie’s eyes widen, something about seeing you in his shirt invigorated something within.

“don’t look at me like that,” shying away though there was really no need. he’d seen it all already.

“i can’t help it,” he remarks, standing wide-eyed.

your eyes roll in return, turning away to slip into his sweats though that makes everything worse. eddie instantly jumps to grab you, squeezing your arms against your sides, eliciting a high pitched squeal from you.

“maybe breakfast can wait,” growling into your ear, tripping over your legs as he barrels towards the bed.

eddie sighs, eyeing the seemingly stagnant clock on the dash. he knows you get off at three, toying with the idea of telling you he’s coming to get you or just turning up outside your building.

he figures he’s close enough that he won’t bother, shifting into drive. you’d only seen each other yesterday but he couldn’t get enough.

girls came and went in his life, never sticking around long enough for him to really get to know them. it felt different this time, he was itching to be with you, this constant need to be near you, with you. it scared him deep down, turning his stomach at the thought of someone actually meaning something to him.

he watches the door like a hawk, positioned outside so that you can’t possibly miss him.

it’s five after three by the time you emerge from the grand door, closely followed by who he assumes are your co-workers. eyes narrowing at the sight of the spindly guy following behind.

eddie clocks the exact moment you spot him, ducking your head as you break away from the group and slide into the passenger seat.

“what’re you doing here?” you flush, though your smile is evident, creeping onto his own face.

“i can’t come pick you up from work?”

you shrug, still coy as your co-workers dawdle, staring into the car with eager eyes.

“why’re you so shy all of a sudden? not even gonna kiss me?” eddie teases, feeling the eyes of your colleagues hot on his face.

“shut up,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

he takes this as a challenge, leaning over the centre console to press his forehead to yours, waiting for your approval before embarrassing you any further.

your lips lock onto his before he can think about it, deciding to turn the innocent kiss into what he can only describe as a sloppy, over exaggerated makeout session. something similar to his first attempts at kissing.

you pull back, groaning in disgust, averting your eyes from the nosy gaggle of colleagues that still stood gawping.

mission accomplished.

eddie grins before speeding away, not bothering to acknowledge them another time.

you want to be annoyed, eddie can tell. tutting in your seat as if you didn’t enjoy that just as much as he did.

“who was that? your boyfriend?” only half-joking.

there’s another sigh, “i wish,” as you mess around with the dials on the dash.

eddie would normally smack your hand away but for you, he couldn’t.

an absolute sucker for the way your fingers danced around the tortoise shell interior, making yourself comfortable in his car like you should.

“you’ve never been to brunch?” you fret, looking at him with pure amazement over the table.

“no,” eddie chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee, “why would i?”

“why wouldn’t you?” smiling wide.

there’s been a lot of firsts for eddie these past few weeks.

you’d dragged him for a walk around the park in front of his complex, perplexed that he’d never even bothered. he’d been into a florist for the first time, hand picking some overpriced bouquet just for you.

he shakes his head, shrugging. there wasn’t any time for brunch when you had to move kilos of cocaine for rich aristocrats.

“you don’t live,” you scoff, sipping on your 11am mimosa as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

it’s ridiculous how soft you make him feel. he’d do brunch in some gentrified neighbourhood every day if it meant you smiled at him like that.

everything about you is too sweet, your clothes, the perfume you doused yourself in, the lipstick stains you’d leave behind on shared cigarettes. even last week when you’d made him stop for some cat food for the tiny stray that hung around your garden. who does that?

“some of us have to work, sweetheart,” eddie teases, shuffling around on the far-too-fancy chair.

“i work,” you hit back, “only difference is that what i do, isn’t illegal,” whispering the last part of your sentence, smug as you take a drink.

he looks on in pure awe. the fact that you could speak to him like that and yet still end up his favourite person was a miracle in and of itself.

“d’you want me to pay for your fuckin’ brunch or not?”

“i can pay f’myself,” you huff.

“but i don’t want you to.”

your eyes glint, pursing your lips to the side, “i don’t want to either.”

eddie’s already trembling in the car, murray droning on about the importance of gloves next to him. this all seemed like a good idea a couple of weeks ago and now his stomach flipped with every turn.

that was before he had something to lose, before he met you.

maybe weeks of you loosening him up had ruined him. the soft life was a dream in comparison to this. the complete fear coursing through his veins was enough to make him never want to leave the serene calm of your arms ever again.

a couple of years ago he was just some kid selling weed to the losers that hung around the block and now he’s clutching a pistol, contemplating whether he’d survive if he just jumped out of the car.

murray wouldn’t let him. he’d find him, make him pay for being such a pussy.

eddie’s eyes fall shut, head lolling back against the seat, conjuring up images of you in his head. if he had to do it, he also had to make it out alive.

for you.

a ringing bellows through his head, fumbling with the keys as his fingers shake.

he couldn’t remember if you were at work tonight, hoping you wouldn’t have to see this. get pulled into his ridiculous life.

eddie stumbles through the door, making a beeline for the bathroom when your voice calls out from the kitchen.

“eds?”

choosing to ignore it, focussed on the churning in his stomach and the need to empty whatever was rumbling around in there.

it all comes out into the toilet, heaving and retching as you round the corner completely perplexed by whatever was going on.

he’s slumped on the cold floor, gasping for air when you speak, “eddie?” terror in your voice.

“what happened?”

eddie barely looks up, focused on not throwing up again. he can’t explain it, there’s no words to tell you what happened without incriminating himself.

your eyes fall to the red splatters on his shirt, the cuts that littered his knuckles and the purple hue that had started taking over his cheek.

any idiot could put two and two together.

he’s been cryptic about what he does for work, never saying too much but just enough for you to understand. he didn’t want to tell you, to have to drag you into all this. that wasn’t fair.

for a moment, he thinks you’re about to run out of the door and never look back. he wouldn’t blame you if you did.

instead, you take charge, stepping into the bathroom with your hands resting on your hips, “get up,” you order, tugging at his arm.

he doesn’t. still partially curled around the toilet bowl, confused about your attitude.

“i said get up,” barking again, holding onto his elbow with an iron clad grip.

eddie obliges this time around, shakily standing up. he feels like a child, waiting for you to tell him what to do, to make him feel normal again.

you pull him to the sink, running the warm water, scrubbing his hands with yours. the water runs a murky colour, red and brown alike.

“get under your nails,” you add, lathering the soap on his palms, laser focused on his hands rather than the sorry state that had overcome him.

he does as you ask, scrubbing under his nails. standing aloof when you turn the water off.

your hands find the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head, “off,” nodding towards his jeans.

it’s a little unsettling that you know exactly what to do, but eddie’s not complaining. grateful for your presence, for your forward thinking. who knows what he would’ve done if you weren’t here. he thinks he probably would’ve handed himself straight into the cops.

you hold a bag open for him, gesturing for his clothes to go in. “we’ll.. we can get rid of them tomorrow,” eventually meeting his eyes again.

he nods, allowing you to guide him through to his bedroom. pliable, completely at your mercy. if you told him that jumping off of bridge would help, he’d do it.

you dump the bag of evidence on the floor before pulling out a fresh shirt and sweatpants, flinging them on the bed.

“get dressed.. i’ll get you some water,” before flouncing out of the room.

eddie hated himself for dragging you into his life like this. it was always supposed to be something separate, something isolated from your relationship.

he’s barely dressed by the time you return, feeling like a pitiful mess. if the look on your face were anything to go by, he looked like it too.

“eddie,” you begin, that same sad tone you’d had when he told you about his mom, “i don’t..” stepping closer, “need to know what happened- i don’t really want to know either but.. you can’t let it fuck you up,” looking at him earnestly, which honestly hurts more.

he nods, “i know,” because he did. “i’m sorry for-,” he sighs, “for getting you involved, i never wanted you to see this.”

you respond by throwing your arms around his waist, squishing your cheek against his chest, “don’t.. don’t start with that.”

his chin finds the top of your head, nestling into your hair, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

it’s a nice type of silence, the air heavy with unspoken words but he thinks that’s okay.

you understand anyway.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader

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strawberrysodaslut · 13 days

Text

this was cruel and i loved every second of it

i want your things in my room (fratboy!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: steve harrington: resident frat boy heartbreaker. handsome, charming, good in bed—what's not to love? if only he loved you. based on this sexy thought of mine

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ rolly’s roller wheels blurbs commissions! ✶ blurbs!

tags: frat boy!steve, situationship, asshole-ish!steve, pining, kind of feral reader because i was feral writing this, smut.

"i want your things in my room, i miss you all of the time. i stalk myself on the internet just to see what you'll find...you look so cool, I wanna die. is it too soon to say what's on my mind?"

— in my room, julia wolf

for the lovely 🫧

wc: 2,095 (oops)

delta phi. saturday april 12th, 2009

Cords of muscle suffocated under the tight sleeve of a red cutoff—ripped while weight-lifting on the porch, you imagined. Knowing Steve, it was intentionally and meticulously cut in the bathroom mirror for a blurry cellphone image sent to another fling.

You never received texts like that. The only texts you received were late in the evening or at the crest of midnight:

you up?

coming over. unlock the back door.

The one trip-up in this eight month routine came two weekends ago at nine p.m.

coming over, brought you a surprise. want you to wear it saturday.

It was a tight white t-shirt promoting Steve for Delta Phi Senior President. You wore it like he asked, lingering in the basement corner of another Saturday party with a lukewarm beer you wanted to throw up when you saw hordes of other girls wearing the exact same thing.

He didn't even look at you that night.

But he messaged, an hour after you skulked home with a hoodie zipped over his face printed on your left tit.

didn't see you leave. can i swing by later?

He did. And you let him crawl over your naked body under a pink duvet and place his mouth wherever he liked. He didn't apologize, and you swallowed down the sharp sting of tears every time he told you how pretty you were—knowing every girl wearing his face that night received the very same treatment at one point.

You weren't special. You knew that. But he had such a way of making you feel like you were. Catching your eye through passing bodies, lifting his mouth in a sideways grin, wiggling his fingers in a tiny wave when he knew no one was looking. Cupping the back of your head in the checkout line at the coffeeshop when he passed by, because somehow he always knew when you were there. He never said a thing, but he had your heart stuttering every single time.

So, here you were. Another Saturday night in a dark Delta Phi corner, sipping a Twisted Tea and struggling to swallow past the lump of hurt in your throat when Steve's head turned to follow the path of a pretty and petite blonde. Watching his biceps flex under his sleeve, his hips turn in a pair of Levis often rumpled on your floor. You washed them once, when he came and got sick in your bathroom after a particularly intense recruitment night.

Steve lifted a wide hand and swept it through the front of his hair. You could almost smell it, the Old Spice soaked in those chestnut tresses. You used his bathroom on the second floor one time, found the red shampoo bottle resting on the edge of the tub.

And maybe you popped the cap and smelled it, closed your eyes and imagined Steve was right in front of you, pressing his cheek on your chest the way he did post-coital: panting wordlessly, letting you feel the warmth of his flesh clinging to yours, running your fingers through his hair to bring him back down.

Steve's eyes cutting your way yanked you from your warm, gut-wrenching thoughts of him. Over the swell of his own bicep: a pair of hazels fixing on your figure across the room. Your heart lurched to your throat when you locked gazes, fingers twitching to wave. He wouldn't wave back. You knew without a doubt.

But those lips quirked up in acknowledgement, and that was enough. Enough to have heat lapping at your face and coiling in your stomach. Enough to know he'd message after the party, when most of the crowd dispersed and his buddies wandered off to bed. Enough to know you'd feel his breath on your face tonight, feel his mouth over your body.

That was more than enough.

✶ ✶

You waited.

Waited—fully dressed on your bed, lamp clicked on in the darkness of the night—with the skin of your thumb between your teeth. Gnawing between glances at your phone, waiting for it to buzz with his name. The deeper the night grew, the hungrier you became. Hungry for his tongue sliding around your mouth, his fingers digging into your ribs with every pull back against his body. His palm cupped around your throat the way it often did when he took you from behind, keeping you braced against his chest so he could feel you struggle to catch your breath.

You waited. You bid your roommate goodnight through a closed door and waited. You peeled your outfit off layer by layer, checked your messages for his name, and waited. You laid back on your bed holding your phone to your faded-t-shirt-clad chest, and waited.

The hunger nestled between your legs, aching and pulsing with soreness. It was terrible how conditioned you were for Steve's attention. How horribly you craved it.

Somehow, his air of coolness made you want it more. When he avoided your eye, when your texts went unanswered, when he brushed by at a party and looped your pinkies together—you wanted him something awful.

But you wanted him most when you had him. When he was running his nose through the sweat on your neck, big hands sweeping over your stomach under the t-shirt he guided over your head. His t-shirt, always asked for in a groggy, early morning exchange before he left. When he was whispering—unwilling to wake your roommates—and promising that you were the only one he'd ever felt this close to.

"Swear nobody's made me feel so fuckin' high before," he'd say. "Love your body, baby, you're so pretty."

Tears squeezed at your lash line, burning as they spilled over. You swiped at them irritatedly, setting your phone on the nightstand and turning away from it.

And then it buzzed.

You flung your hands toward the vibration, snatching the scratched device eagerly.

coming.

missed you.

Falling back against your pillows, you let out a long, blissful sigh. He missed you. That was new.

Your phone buzzed with the long-awaited "here" text, and you had to catch yourself on the stair railing to avoid running toward the door. But the way you swung the door open and tugged him in did little to hide your excitement, and it had Steve grinning wide as you hurried back toward your room.

"Wait," he chuckled, stumbling over his sneakered feet. "Christ, you're quick to the belt tonight."

You clamped your bedroom door shut carefully, spinning around to find Steve toeing his shoes off at the end of your bed. His tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek when he turned to face you again. The smirk on his mouth was delicious.

Suddenly, all that hunger coursing through you fizzled to coyness. But Steve liked when you were shy. He thought it was cute.

"C'mere."

The way he called to you—softly, a sweeter version of his usual tone—always had your nerves tingling.

You stepped in front of him, giggling when he plucked at the faded, stained material of your bed shirt near your chest.

"Sexy 'jamas," he chuckled, swooping down to press your mouths together.

"Thought...you weren't...coming," you mumbled between detachments and quiet, wet smacks.

He said nothing this time, letting his hands drop to your hips to steer you around. He guided you onto the bed, and the pair of you moved like a well-oiled carnival ride until you reached the pillows. Two heavy palms pressed into the feathers on either side of your head, and Steve's mouth continued lapping at yours vigorously.

One thing about Steve was that he was always pleased to incorporate foreplay. He loved the art of kissing, and he knew it well.

Steve pulled away far too early, moving his lips to your cheek. Down your jaw, under the junction where nerves tingled for his attention under your ear. You fisted the thin fabric of his shirt as he dragged his nose across your jaw.

"Did ya miss me, honey?" His voice took on a low gravel that brought your hairs to their ends.

Your eyes fluttered between opened and closed, hips shifting on the bed. Your breath already shallowed.

"Mhm."

"Mhm? Tell me," he cooed, nose rubbing a small circle into your cheek, breath hot on your skin. "Tell me you missed me, pretty girl."

You blinked your eyes open, glazing over the length of his lashes and flecks of honey and emerald in his gaze. You could barely feel your own body, could barely form a sentence on your own.

"I missed you," you whispered dazedly.

Steve moved his eyes down to your stomach as he dragged the t-shirt toward your collarbones. His hand glided over your navel and between your breasts.

"Missed you, too. Take your shirt off f' me, sweetheart."

He knelt at the end of the bed and watched you undress intently, eyes tracing the curves of your body as he pressed to his knees and fumbled with the buckle of his belt. When the pair of you were bare, he returned to his place hovering above you, and you took your chance to roam your hands over his chest. Firm, warm, smooth-skinned. Lifting your back off the bed, you buried your nose in his throat and inhaled deeply. Steve's chuckle rumbled through you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to feel ashamed.

"Smell good," you remarked quietly.

Steve tipped his head away from your face until you settled back into the pillows. He grinned down at you there, hair curling over his forehead and toward his brow.

"Yeah? That's new."

You shook your head, tongue fat and dumb in your mouth. Your fingers traced down his arms bracing your head. "No...always smell good."

A swallow bobbed in his throat. The back of his finger nudged your cheek from the pillow beside you. "Yeah?"

You nodded this time, meeting his eye with what he could only call a lovestruck stare—all rounded and doe-like. "Yeah."

He wished you'd shut your eyes. He wished you'd stop looking at him like he was some sort of saint. He wished you'd stop letting him get away with all the shit he put you through.

Steve was quick to switch gears, pecking a short, painful kiss to your mouth before flipping you by the hips onto your stomach. You gasped at the quick and irritated pull of your hips upward until your ass was arched in the air. He pressed on the dip in your back and you let your stomach drop toward the mattress.

"Good," he sniffed. "Look good like this."

Because he couldn't see your eyes.

And you let him fuck you like that, pummeling so deep that you were buried in the mattress by the time he was done. You didn't cum and he knew it, and the pair of you settled flat with quiet gasps. He didn't press his cheek to your chest this time, didn't tangle your fingers together between sticky bedsheets. He laid there only a few silent moments before reaching for his pants.

"Hey," you called softly, propped up on your elbows. "You're not gonna stay?"

The broad muscles of Steve's back flexed and rolled as he hoisted his jeans over his hips and secured his belt. He pulled his shirt on without turning around, feet shoved into his sneakers before you could even sit all the way up.

"Nah," he said, turning only as he headed for the door. "Gotta...um, study."

Brows furrowing, a small giggle slipped from your mouth. "Study? You don't study."

Another swallow, noisy and paired with two eyes fixed on the floor. His voice neared a whisper when he spoke again. "Trying something new."

You watched him open the door just enough for him to fit through. You hugged your soiled sheets around your bare body and felt the hunger dim to hurt again.

Steve stepped into the doorway and turned his head an inch, but not enough to see those pretty features again. "Later."

You wanted him to miss you again. You wanted to press your nose back into his neck and breathe him in. You wanted him to bring his words down low where they belonged when he spoke to you. You wanted to be his girl for a few moments more, to feel his affection through every drag of his mouth and hands.

But the door closed, and you were left to watch him jog across the street through a sliver in the drapes instead.

Just another t-shirt. Just another girl in love with Steve Harrington.

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strawberrysodaslut · 21 days

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so sorry about your situation! i hope you are able to get a stable job and a roof over you and your cats heads soon!

Hello friends, I need your help.

Yesterday, 04/04/24, I became homeless; I don’t have a home anymore.

I only have my car, luckly, so that’s where I’m staying with my cat.

I’m currently in my first year of university but I’m going to drop out soon as I can’t afford to pay the fees. I’m looking for a new job, of course, but as of right now I don’t have enough money to do anything about my situation.

I will not share my exact location for safety reasons but I will tell you that I'm living in my car near a gym so as not to be isolated. Physically I am fine, emotionally not really but it doesn't matter.

I’m asking for your help because I don’t know what else to do. I have some links in my bio, if you can donate anything, even just one euro is going to make the difference.

And if you can't donate, please at least share this post or my links. Thank you so much, I appreciate every single one of you.

(Please forgive me for using the tags improperly but I'm trying to reach as many of you as possible, as well as my mutuals).

#crowdfunding

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strawberrysodaslut · 1 month

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thinking about the way Eddie scrunch his nose when he's angry

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strawberrysodaslut · 1 month

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Hey. Hey you.

I know it's hard to speak up about Palestine.

You may be scared, afraid to get backlash.

You may be a minor and have parents that are overprotective of you or worse, are neutral about the whole thing or is supportive of one side.

But you don't need to speak up about Palestine on your own post. You can always reblog a post with the click of a button. Reblog posts just like this one.

I know it's hard to do much and I know you're sometimes feeling like you aren't doing enough. But you can take it with little steps at a time.

Don't stop talking about Palestine. Your voices need to be heard.

#free palestine #palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #palestine will be free #don't stop talking about palestine #free gaza #gaza #gaza genocide #ceasefire

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strawberrysodaslut · 1 month

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as someone who has been a buffy fan since she can remember, this feels like it was made FOR me so…

THANK YOU FOR THIS MASTERPIECE !!!

You Could Kill Me (and You Should)

Pairing: Vampire!Eddie Munson X Slayer!Reader

Word Count: 16k

Tags: SMUT🔥🔥🔥, dubious consent, memory alteration, reader's pronouns aren't specified, reader has a vagina, oral sex, p in v sex, blood drinking, blood kink, unprotected sex, squirting, dom/sub undertones, vampire sex, references to Buffy the Vampire Slayer (but you don't have to be familiar to understand this story)

A/N: please read the tags! This work contains depictions of blood and VERY adult content. Minors, do not interact!

Bat divider made by @saradika ❤️

Hunting on game nights was never ideal.

There were too many people around… the double-edged sword of vampire hunting. The great throngs of people made it easy for a poor soul to get lost in the fray, so it brought the baddies out into the open. On the flip side of that coin, what made an ideal hunting ground for vamps created a field of landmines for a Slayer. Throngs of people meant infinite chances to get caught in the open with a wooden stake in your hand, and that brought too many questions.

Still, you could deal with humans; you had been your whole life. Hawkins, Indiana was just like any other town- people would believe what they wanted to believe, and you knew exactly how to spin a story into something they’d find acceptable.

However, if you got caught out in the moonlight with the specific vamp you were hunting, you knew you’d attract the wrong kind of attention. You wanted to fly under the radar here; it was the only way you’d be able to live here long enough to stave off the influx of demons that liked to slip in time to time from the Upside Down- the hell that waited on the other side of this reality. Not every town was as connected to it as Hawkins was, but then again, not every town sat on top of a Hellmouth.

A sound from behind you perked up the hairs at the back of your neck. You turned, making sure the brick wall of Hawkins High protected your back as you surveyed the empty courtyard before you. Everyone within a mile radius who still had a beating heart was in the gym, cheering on the Hawkins Tigers in hopes that the subpar basketball team might actually take home a win tonight.

Well… everyone except for you, whose heart was beating alarmingly fast for someone who had slain so many bloodsuckers that you’d lost count. Why were you this nervous? Aw, who were you kidding, you knew why.

You weren’t hunting just any vampire this time. You were hunting Eddie Munson.

You steadied your turncoat heart with a slow, deep breath. “Stop kidding around, Munson,” you said, keeping your voice low and eerily calm. “You know why I’m out here and I know you’ll only hurt me if you have to, so let’s just cut the formalities and have a little chat.”

A rumbling chuckle sounded from above, and when your eyes flicked up to the sky they were met with the sight of the most elusive and cunning vamp you’d ever had the displeasure of hunting.

Eddie Munson. Or, as he was known amongst the town’s community of bloodsuckers, Kas the Bloody Handed.

“Little chat, huh?” Eddie’s smiling voice echoed from where he sat on the edge of the rooftop above you. “Put away the stake and we’ll talk, Slayer.”

You kept your eyes on him, narrowing your gaze but complying nonetheless. You pocketed the stake, shifting your brown leather jacket to the side and sliding the wooden spike into your waistband.

Were you dealing with any other vamp, you would have laughed in their face at the demand that you disarm yourself when vampires had nearly every advantage against you. You had Slayer strength, sure- but that was it. These demons had speed, strength, teeth, claws- the fact that sunlight would incinerate them was really their only weakness besides their need for blood.

Correction- sunlight should incinerate them. Sunlight didn’t affect Eddie Munson. That wasn’t the only thing that didn’t seem to affect him- bloodlust was apparently not an issue either, seeing how he was a student. At a high school. A building just teaming with sweaty, hormonal teens who were just itching to do something stupid- one would assume that a vampire in a place like that would be draining cheerleaders left and right, but not Eddie. In fact, you’d been watching him for months now since you moved to Hawkins, and you’d never even seen him hurt a fly. Hell, you’d seen kids try and beat him up and yet he hadn’t so much as made a fist since the first time you laid eyes on him.

That was why you’d sought him out tonight- this vampire wasn’t killing people, and it was making you suspicious.

Once your weapon had been safely tucked away, Eddie hopped down from his insane height at the top of the school building and landed swiftly and quietly on his feet in front of you. He smiled at you lazily, his eyes twinkling with the curiosity and glee that came with sharing a secret.

“Excuse my forwardness, but I’ve gotta know-” Eddie began, hands in his pockets as he slowly sauntered toward you. “-how long did I have you going before you figured me out?”

You pushed off the wall, casually placing your hands behind your back as you matched his stride in the opposite direction. You were circling each other, two predators locked in a deadly dance.

“You’re a pretty good actor, Munson.” you replied, voice lighter than air but balanced out by the unwavering rock-solid gaze that remained locked on him. “I might not have figured it out at all if your friend at the hospital hadn’t spilled the beans.”

That got his attention. “Annie ratted me out?” His eyebrows were practically synonymous with his hairline. “Impossible.”

You shrugged. “Apparently HIPAA laws don’t apply to secret bloodbag dealers and their demon customers. In her defense, she was pretty tight-lipped until I had convinced her I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

That stopped Eddie in his tracks. He peered at you through his curtain of moonlit curls, his gaze suspicious and unsure. “You’re not?”

You stood squarely before him at ease. “Nope.” you replied brightly. “And I don’t think you’re trying to kill anyone either… are you, Kas?”

His suspicion gave way to a blinding smile. “Well someone’s been doing their research!” You blinked and he was inches away, his enhanced speed catching you off guard; you instinctively took a step back before instantly regretting it. Eddie caught your momentary lapse in stature and his grin crept upwards in one corner. “Tell you what, killer, how ‘bout we put a pin in all your fun little Kas facts and cut to the chase, hm?”

In a flash his hand held your chin firmly. Your grip flew to the back of your waistband, fingertips already caressing the smooth wood of your stake. You mirrored each other, the two of you standing in a twin stance with one foot placed in front of the other a shoulder’s width apart, his hand at your jaw and yours ready to stake the bastard at the first sign of a threat.

“You’re here to protect people,” Eddie continued, “and I don’t plan on hurting anyone. We can coexist here, it isn’t that complicated.”

“I’m here to slay vampires.” You corrected, but Eddie only grinned and shook his head.

“See, that’s not true- you would have killed me already.” He leaned in, a smug smile only taking up more space on his countenance. “Ain’t that right, Slayer?”

You’d expected that the decision to let Eddie live would come back to bite you in the ass, but surprisingly enough, nothing changed.

You went to school. You hunted. You did normal teenager things. Not once did you witness Eddie Munson do a single thing out of the ordinary.

Well…out of his ordinary. For a bloodsucking demon hiding among human teenagers, he liked attention far more than you’d expected. The more you thought about it, however, the more you saw his reputation for being the town freak as a genius cover. He was hiding in plain sight; any weird behavior would simply be written off as a cry for attention from Hawkins’ resident eccentric. If he wanted to, Eddie could be getting away with a lot more than stolen blood bags.

So why wasn’t he?

You wanted answers, and surprisingly enough you had a feeling that it wouldn’t take too much for him to give them to you. You just needed to find a private place to ask him. Word travels like wildfire after a drought in Hawkins, and even if Eddie didn’t mind the attention, you on the other hand did. You couldn’t afford for people to start associating you with him, so you’d passed Eddie a note at lunch to meet you out in the woods at the old picnic table.

“Did you know I used to do drug deals in this exact place?”

His voice sounded wistful as his body weight caused the weakened wooden bench to creak when he sat down with you later that afternoon. “Those were the days, man.”

You snorted. “You mean the days when you were human? Or are you a bloodsucker and a pill pusher? That’s an intersectionality I can’t say I’ve encountered before-”

“Back when I was human, smartass.” He cut you off, rolling his eyes. “Now, why did Hawkins’ shiny new vampire slayer invite me to meet in the middle of the woods? All alone?” he pretended to think it over for a second, feigning epiphany when his eyes widened and his brows shot up his forehead. His voice quivered, apparently auditioning to play the role of the victim in a slasher film. “Are you g-g-gonna k-k-kill me?” He braced his hands against the edge of the picnic table, scrambling to the ground as he amped up the drama while you watched, forcing a smile at bay.

“P-p-please, don’t s-s-slay me, almighty S-Slayer!”

You snorted, shaking your head, unable to completely stop the ghost of a grin from sliding across your lips. “Having fun?” you snarked.

It took only a millisecond- in a blur of supernatural vampire speed, he was back up on his feet and sitting on the surface of the table. “Lots!” His smile was overwhelming- it was easygoing, unguarded, and above all things it was so human. It was disconcerting.

“The reason I asked you out here,” you said, getting down to business. “Is because I have some questions for you.”

The vampire’s eyes narrowed, that smile staying firmly planted on his lips. “I’m sure you do.”

“How can you be out in the sunlight without bursting into flames?” Every vampire you’d ever encountered would be reduced to ashes if they dared to step out the door in broad daylight, yet here was Eddie Munson- 100% bloodsucker, 100% sitting on a picnic bench and soaking up the rays that filtered in through the cover of tree branches.

“I know a witch.” Eddie replied, eyes following you as you paced around the picnic table. “She did a spell. Next question?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Who’s the witch?”

“Not telling.”

“I figured.” you lamented. “Do the blood bags satisfy you as much as fresh blood?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, then replied with a curt “They’re enough.”

“Enough to stave off the urge to- I don’t know- murder?”

His head whipped sharply in your direction, expression souring. “Have you seen me kill anyone? In all the time you’ve been here, have you ever seen me so much as harm someone?”

You paused. “No.”

Jutting out his chin triumphantly, he straightened his posture a bit. “Then stick to relevant questions, alright killer?”

You narrowed your eyes on him. “Your bloodlust isn’t relevant?”

He scoffed, tightening his grip on the edge of the tabletop he still sat on, and you could have sworn you heard the wood creaking beneath his white knuckles. “You may not be from Hawkins, but with that self-righteous, bigoted attitude you could’ve fooled me.” His head was hanging down, Eddie’s dark eyes trained on his Reebocks which dangled from where he sat.

When he looked up at you through his long, chestnut curls, the gaze he gave you was so disappointed, so intense, that you actually felt a pang of guilt even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d accused a vampire of having bloodlust. What was there to feel guilty for?

“You’re a vampire, Munson. A demon.” you stated, matter of factly. “You need blood to survive, and you’re a killer by nature-”

“You’ve done more killing in this town than I have,” he laughed humorlessly, his voice tinged with exasperation. “-and I’ve lived here my entire life!” Eddie hopped off the tabletop, shaking his head. “I thought you wanted to have an actual conversation with me, but if you’re here to point out splinters and ignore the stakes, then I’m gone. Go interrogate some other vampire.”

You stood your ground, watching Eddie walk back towards Hawkins High as you felt that guilt crawl into your chest and start to burrow there.

You found it ironic that the Hideout was known for both being the bar in town that never carded, and being the bar that vampires frequented the most. It resulted in a clientele that was either immortal or too young to be there.

Your presence in town had slowed down vampire activity quite a bit, but apparently that hadn’t been enough of a deterrent to rid the dive bar of their undead customers for the night. After a few years of slaying, you’d learned how to distinguish between prey and predator- there weren’t too many people in the bar since it was a Tuesday night, but that only made it easier to single them out.

You knew what to look for: eyes that swept the room to sort out the hierarchy of those present. Skin that lacked the plumpness and healthy complexion that came with blood running freely through the veins beneath. Behaviors that reflected an intention to single out the weak and alone before isolating them, going in for the kill.

Unfortunately, they weren’t who you were here for. Tonight, your attendance wasn’t attributed to any run-of-the-mill vampires.

Funny enough, you were here to see the band.

You sipped on your glass of cranberry juice, watching warily as tonight’s headliner situated themselves on the small almost-stage in the corner of the tiny bar. Long dark curls shadowed eyes that followed you with equal wariness, unsure of why you were here but intrigued nonetheless.

Sitting stationary at the bar with your glass sweating in your hand, you took in the spectacle before you- four boys who looked fairly human, setting the crowd ablaze with songs about nonconformity, rebellion, and hellish imagery. Funnily enough, humans and vampires alike were all watching them, heads bobbing to the thrum of the baseline, all of them united in their quest to distract themselves from life- or afterlife- for the night.

You’d always loved how music did that- it brought together folks of all shapes and sizes, political ideals, religions, backgrounds… and it gave them something to agree on. Music made people feel something. Whether you were alive or undead didn’t seem to matter; people loved to feel things.

To your chagrin, you found yourself tapping out the melodies along with the crowd, bouncing your knee in time with Eddie’s band’s music. They were- surprisingly- not bad. The place was small enough that even though you were seated at the bar, you were able to get a good look at each of the band members over the course of their set. You recognized some of them from school- Grant was a nice guy, you had some classes with him. Gareth was… shy? Standoffish? Either way, he kept to himself and away from everyone who wasn’t Eddie- typical behavior for a vampire. Now, seeing the pallor of his skin compared to the lively flush of his bandmates, you were all but sure he was a vampire; one of Eddie’s underlings, no doubt.

You’d figured out as much information about Eddie Munson’s standing in Hawkins’ vampire community as you thought you’d be likely to get, being a vampire slayer in a town fraught with vampires. He was the first to become a vampire the Hawkins way, and that afforded him a certain level of respect among vampires here. Other than that, you were flying blind.

Vampires existed in many forms across the world- name a continent, and you could rattle off some fun facts about that region’s particular breed of bloodsucker. Some born, some made, some immortal, some not- and they all had their own particular set of characteristics that set them apart and made slaying even more complicated. Eddie Munson had been the first of a new breed of vampire, and that’s why your watcher had sent you here; not only to slay, but to collect data.

The audience’s applause for Corroded Coffin’s final song faded into a dull chatter and the clinking of bar glasses, and your attention snagged on Eddie as you watched him amble off the stage in your direction. The other band members stayed where they were, shifting around as they began packing up their instruments. Gareth’s eyes stayed on Eddie, narrowing when they crossed over his shoulder and landed on you.

“Didn’t take you for a metal fan, Slayer.” Eddie murmured just loud enough for you to hear him over the din of noisy patrons.

You shrugged, sipping from your glass. “I listen to a little bit of everything. You guys aren’t bad.” Eddie hopped up onto the stool beside you, nodding to the bartender in a silent exchange. A half second later, Eddie had a freshly opened can of PBR sweating in his hand.

“Thanks.” He was eyeing you warily, sipping slowly from his can. “So what are you doing here?”

He didn’t bullshit around when there was an elephant in the room… you guessed you appreciated that. “I wanted to see you in your element.”

He snorted into his silver can. “In my element, huh? Wouldn’t that be -I don’t know- catching me in the act of ripping someone’s throat out? Draining the blood from a litter of kittens or something?”

A pang of guilt threatened to nudge its way through to your eyes, but you didn’t let it get that far. “No,” You replied, “you said it yourself, I’ve never actually seen you hurt anyone. Or even try, actually.”

His gaze was measured, eyeing you up and down as if scanning you for some indication that you were planning on staking him right here and now. You waited for him to speak but surprisingly he didn’t, so you continued.

“I’d like to propose a truce.”

Eddie smirked slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards enough to call into action the dimple hidden in his cheek. “Didn’t know we were fighting, I sure as hell haven’t been getting in your way, have I?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you’re getting at? You want an apology?” As Eddie’s smirk grew wider, your mouth moved in the opposite direction, lips forming a hard, tense line as you glared at the smug bloodsucking bastard before you.

“I’m a Slayer. I’ve traveled all over the world with the sole purpose of killing vampires just like you-”

“There are no vampires like me, sweetheart.”

You snorted. “Yeah yeah, you’re so unique, we’re all aware.” You downed the last swig of your drink. “Can I finish now?”

He nodded, that grin still growing along his lips.

“Every vampire I’ve ever met has wanted to kill people. Forgive me for having my defenses up when I came across one that didn’t.” Eddie’s eyes softened, as did the corners of his mouth. His smug grin now seemed a little more understanding, and maybe a little sympathetic. That last bit made you bristle.

“I’m not saying this for your sympathy, I just want you to know where I was coming from when I made assumptions about your…”

“I believe the term you used was ‘bloodlust’?” Eddie supplied, his tone accusatory but not altogether unfriendly.

You sighed heavily. “I made assumptions. I’m sorry about that.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side, digesting your apology. Finally, “Buy a round for me and my band and I’ll forgive you.”

The stipulations of your truce were laid out the next day at lunch. You were able to convince Eddie to leave his cronies’ lunch table in the cafeteria in favor of a more private place to discuss your terms- the picnic table out in the woods.

As per your side of the deal, Eddie would provide you a list of names of vampires that he knew followed the same lifestyle as him- purchase blood from his supplier at the hospital, go about their normal lives, and never harm a living soul. You would refrain from hunting any of them.

Eddie’s side of the deal: he promised not to interfere with the slaying of any vampires in town who didn’t subscribe to his way of life; in other words, if they tried to hurt a human or drink from any living animals in town, they were fair game for slaying. In addition, Eddie would provide you any information you needed about Hawkins Vampires, and you would relay that data to the Watchers’ Council for them to enter into their database.

Unsurprisingly, Gareth Emerson’s name was at the top of Eddie’s list of vampires under his protection. When you saw it, you chuckled.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Surprised?”

“Not in the slightest.” you laughed. “The guy clings to your side like a guard dog and barely talks to anyone else. And he always looks like he’s on the verge of ripping someone’s throat out.”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh along with you. “Well, in my defense, he was like that back in his human days too, I didn’t do that to him.”

You peered over the list at the leather-clad vamp as he lit a cigarette. “But you did do the ‘vamparism’ thing to him?”

“Trust me, it wasn’t a premeditated decision.” Eddie may have sounded aloof, but you could tell that the words were strained. “I had only been…turned…for a couple of weeks at that point. I thought I could handle more human interaction than I really could.”

Your eyebrows jumped a fraction of an inch, but you tried to appear unphased. You hadn’t known too many vampires who could bite a human and manage to stop themselves before killing their victims at that phase of their afterlife. A vampire’s thirst could be nearly impossible to resist for the first few years after their transition, never mind the first matter of days. The fact that Eddie was able to bite Gareth without killing him was… impressive, to say the least.

Regardless of how impressive it was, however, Eddie’s facial expression spoke volumes to you about how unimpressed he was by his choices at this particular moment in his history. You decided to air on the side of casual empathy. “Could have been a lot worse.” you said, voice soft but matter of fact. “Plus he has you to protect him.”

Eddie looked at you, eyes guarded and yet bursting at the seams with unshed secrets. You could tell there was so much more he wanted to say, but he settled for a simple, solid “Yeah.”

You didn’t pry. If you needed to know more, you’d find it out in due time, but for now you would settle for ‘yeah’.

The two of you fell into a strange dynamic as your truce was put into effect. For one thing, he made an effort to seek you out in the hallways more; it was troubling, to say the least. You didn’t want people in this town paying attention to you. If they started taking notice of your unusual habits- never getting involved at school, lurking in graveyards and dive bars late into the night, keeping to yourself instead of falling into a friend group like normal teenagers were supposed to- they might start keeping a closer eye on you. A closer eye on you meant a closer eye on the vampires in this town, and the Watcher’s Council would have your head if you became the proverbial Pandora to open the vampire box in Hawkins.

The point was, Eddie was an attention magnet, and his incessant need to interact with you in front of an audience made it difficult to fly under the radar in a town where gossip traveled faster than the average speed limit.

“Slayer!”

His calling you that in the middle of the hallway just after the final bell didn’t help things in the slightest. He was half-jogging through the throng of teens, dodging and weaving between bodies as he made his way to where you stood at your locker with wide eyes trained on the most obnoxious vampire you’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

“Can you not call me that in the middle of a crowded hallway?” you hissed at him once he’d reached your side. In reality, you knew the chances were slim that anyone within earshot knew what a Slayer was, but you weren’t about to test that theory.

“Sorry, killer.” Eddie quipped, shit-eating grin loud and proud on his beaming face. “Just wanted to catch you before you left without me.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Without you? What, are we carpooling now?”

“Yeah, unless you want to get drenched in the tempest going on out there, sweetheart.”

Your mouth was open, poised to argue before Eddie wordlessly scooped up your backpack with effortless strength, shouldered it, and began marching down the crowded hallway. He didn’t even wait for you to close your locker, so you had to make quick work of grabbing your books and locking it shut before bumbling after him.

“Excuse me,” you huffed, power walking in an effort to keep up with his quick pace. “Is there something about me that screams ‘I need to carpool with Eddie Munson’? Because if there is, I will happily correct the issue.”

Eddie hop-skipped through the front doors of the school, threw a chuckling look over his shoulder at you, then took off running through the pouring rain in a straight shot to where his van was parked.

You had no choice but to run in the same direction; he had your backpack.

In a mad dash through the sky’s heavy onslaught, you shielded your head best you could until you made it to Eddie’s passenger door. The rolling percussion of raindrops on pavement was cut starkly short at the shut of your door, and you breathed a sigh of relief before swinging your head around to look at Eddie Smug-Faced Munson, scowling for all you were worth.

“There are quite a few ways I can answer your question, Slayer, all of which could get me staked…” He twisted slightly to toss your backpack into the backseat, where it landed on a discarded t-shirt and a mess of paper and spiraled wire that must have been a notebook at some point. When Eddie turned back to you, your faces were mere inches from each other, both of you trusting the center console with your weight. Eddie’s movements stilled, his eyes flitting ever so quickly down at your barely-parted lips.

You were close enough to hear his soft intake of breath. “Could be worth it, though.”

Your cheeks heated, and you briefly wondered if vampires felt the stolen blood in their cold bodies rush to places in times of tension. Breaking eye contact, you crossed your arms over your chest, brushing your biceps and shoulders with your hands in an effort to warm your rain-drenched skin.

“Just drive, Munson. I have a stake in my pocket with your name on it if you try anything.”

Eddie shook his head, smirking widely. “And here I thought you were just happy to see me.” Shifting the car into drive, he expertly navigated his way out of the parking lot and onto the main road that would take you to the small apartment you currently lived in, courtesy of the Watchers’ Council.

“You’re hunting tonight, right?” Eddie’s voice cut through the rain-spattered silence in the van, jerking your attention from the hypnotic sight of his struggling windshield wipers.

“Yes?” Unintentionally, the answer sounded like a question.

“Take me with you.”

You snorted. “You, a vampire, want to go vampire hunting?”

Eddie shrugged, keeping his umber eyes on the glassy road ahead. “Now that I know there won’t be any innocents on your hit list- yeah, sounds fun.”

You arched an eyebrow. “If I end up staking anyone tonight, you won’t stop me?”

“Good vampire, remember?” he reminded you, placing a hand over his heart before flashing you a reassuring grin. “If somebody’s out there hurting people, I want them off the streets as much as you do.”

And that was how you wound up with an undead hunting partner for your nightly patrol of Hawkins for malicious undead.

Despite being the unlikely duo that you two were, you actually looked like a pair of vampire slayers on a usual patrol- the two of you both wearing combat boots and leather jackets to match. The only tell that this wasn’t your normal routine was the stark silence occupying the space between you. You ended up being the one to finally break it after the first few minutes of patrolling as the two of you strolled through the Hawkins’ cemetery.

“So if we run into some unsavory vampires tonight… how are you gonna kill them?”

“What do you mean, ‘how’?”

“I’m not letting you use my stakes.”

Eddie angled his head toward you, a grin dancing on his lips. “Aw, scared I’ll stake myself on accident, sweetheart?”

“Oh I would consider that a happy accident.” you matched his grin in stride, teasing the tip of your tongue through your teeth.

“Aw, don’t say that! You know you’d miss me, baby.”

Baby?

You sped up your pace a fraction- just enough for him to leave your periphery. “I am not your baby.” You tried to laugh through your response, but it got caught in your throat, tangling with the words and straining them in a way that sounded less lighthearted than you’d intended.

“Well look at that, I found something that makes you nervous.” You could practically feel his smugness from your two steps ahead.

“Nothing makes me nervous.”

“I do.”

You scoffed, speeding up your pace. “You do not-”

In half a second he was in front of you, vampiric speed landing him directly in your way, forcing you to stop short. He was eyeing you down, arms crossed and lids squinted in concentration. “Why’s your heart rate getting faster, then?”

You huffed a breath into the cold air, sending wisps of heat to curl and dissipate as they hit Eddie’s solid form. “Annoyance. Rage. Could be a number of things along those lines.” You sidestepped him, marching forward purposefully. Eddie followed suit beside you.

“Along those lines, you say.” He mused. “Y’know, those lines in particular can get pretty blurry.”

Eddie paused, waiting for you to take the bait. He waited a long time before giving up on that, because under no circumstances did you plan on doing so.

“The lines,” he continued, “between rage and other feelings of… equal passion.”

“You saying you want me to more passionately say you annoy me, Munson?” You quipped, refusing to meet his eyes that were practically begging you to look his way. “I will, don’t tempt me.”

“I’m quite sure you’ll find I can be very good at tempting you, baby.”

You huffed, chin whipping to the side to give him a full view of your serious face. “Stop calling me baby.” You regretted looking his way immediately, because those dark eyes were staring you down with an intensity that caused the air to leave your lungs and your voice to falter.

“Yeah… y’know-” Eddie’s grin was shining in full force now, watching you like you were a puzzle he’d just made a breakthrough in solving. “I don’t think I’m going to do that. This is the first time I’ve seen you flustered.”

“Shut. Up.” You muttered, eyes focused on a newer-looking grave about ten feet from the two of you.

“Hm, sounds like something a flustered person would say-”

“Eddie,” you hissed, already reaching for the stake in your back pocket. “Shut. Up.”

It took him a second, but he followed your gaze and saw what had you shifting gears- the low, wet sound of something sucking, accompanied by the pat pat of excess blood as it dripped to the cold earth. Slightly obscured by the headstone you’d spotted, a vampire had found some unsuspecting soul to snack on.

You held your wooden stake aloft, ready to strike. “Ready to watch the master at work?” you whispered under your breath.

Eddie matched your volume, whispering back an encouraging “Hell yeah, go get ‘em, baby.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, carefully advancing “Just shut up and watch my back, Munson.”

“Oh I will gladly do that.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m adorable.”

You arrived home around dawn, just as the sun had begun to peek over the horizon and paint the morning in blushing shades of pinks and purples. Your apartment was a little efficiency located above a pawn shop downtown. The entrance was behind the building, which meant that there weren’t any snooping neighbors to watch you entering your home in the wee hours of the night. In a town like Hawkins, this kind of privacy was a valuable commodity.

Eddie had insisted on walking you home since it was so late- or early- which tickled you to no end since he’d just watched you take down a vampire pretty much single-handedly. He climbed the squeaking fire escape two steps behind you, stopping at the final landing as you began to unlock your door.

“You can go now.” You told him curtly.

“You’re not going to invite me in?” You almost laughed; he actually sounded hurt. He was a good actor.

“You act like I haven’t studied vampires every day since I became the Slayer.” You placed your hands on your hips, “As If I’m about to give you an all-access pass to my apartment.”

Eddie laughed, his chuckle a dark and musical thing. “Baby, if I was going to kill you, don’t you think I would have tried already?” His hand was resting on your doorway, blocking the light from the time-yellowed lamp that lit the left side of your doorway and caging you in with his shadow.

“For all I know, this is you trying.” You stood your ground, arms crossed solidly across your chest, refusing to cower even though he was looking at you like he wanted to wrap his teeth around you.

He leaned forward ever so slightly, eyes heavy and hungry. “Do you think that’s what I’m trying to do?” His gaze flicked to your closed door and back to you in half a second. “You think if you walk through that door and invite me inside, I’m going to try to kill you?”

You studied him for a moment. “No.” You hadn’t meant for the word to come out in a whisper, but that’s what happened anyway.

Eddie’s gaze remained unmoved. “So you’ll invite me in?”

“No.”

A chuckle escaped through the crooked smile that invaded his lips. “So fucking stubborn. You know I can smell you, right?”

You raised an eyebrow, confused. Smell what? Did you work up a sweat fighting that vampire? There’s no way you smelled that bad-

“I can smell you, baby.” His lips were moving against your ear, brushing the little silver rings that decorated your cartilage. “You’re right, you shouldn’t let me inside. But I can smell how curious you are about what might happen if you do.”

You were suddenly very aware of how wet you were- you felt a rush of heat as a fresh wave of slick rushed through you, undoubtedly moistening your panties. He could smell that? You were frozen, at a loss for words that could adequately respond to his insinuation.

Before you could react, Eddie’s hand was on your face, gripping your jaw just tight enough to slightly purse your lips. You felt the cold bite of his silver rings on your skin, sending goosebumps trickling down your spine. He looked you in the eyes, his gaze growing deeper and darker, and you began to relax into his grip as you realized that he truly did not intend to hurt you.

“You should invite me in.”

His eyes were so beautiful… how had you never noticed them before? They practically glowed… no, they actually glowed. They were like a neon fucking sign, bright and crimson and shining such a beautiful rose-hued glow that they looked more like rubies than irises.

Your lips moved to echo him. “I should invite you in.” Of course you should. He wasn’t going to hurt you- with every second you spent with his skin on yours and his eyes boring into your own, you became even more sure of that. He just wanted to make you feel good- so, so good…

“And are you going to?” Eddie’s voice was so beautiful- how had you never realized how gorgeous his voice was?

“Yes.”

“Good. That’s a good Slayer, unlock the door, baby.”

And you did. It was the easiest decision you’d ever made. You stepped inside, immediately shedding your coat and hanging it on the coat rack by the door. “Come inside, Eddie,” You smiled at him, letting down your defenses. You were so tired of putting them up around him. “It’s cold out there.”

He matched your smile, looking at you like you’d hung the moon. “Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing.” He crossed the threshold easily, following your lead and shrugging off his leather jacket and hanging it beside your own. He glanced around the little apartment, an appraising look in his gaze. It was just one room, a small studio with a modest kitchen and living space. Your modest bed frame sat nestled in the corner beneath a skylight, along with a small armchair and a closet with the few belongings you’d taken with you to Hawkins.

“Bed looks cozy.” Eddie mused.

“It is.”

He nodded towards it. “Go sit on the edge.”

And of course you did. You sat up straight, keeping your eyes on him and waiting for that beautiful voice to say something else. You so wanted him to keep talking; each word was like a warm shower after hours in the cold, relaxing you into a happy little puddle. Eddie watched as you perched yourself on the edge of the bed, slowly stalking across the room until your knees were almost touching his.

He stared at you, his gorgeous dark eyes glowing deep red. “Open your legs.” You did. Without breaking eye contact, Eddie commanded you again. “Tell me how wet you are for me.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he raised a hand gesturing stop. “I’m sorry baby, I misspoke.” Placing both hands on either side of your hips, Eddie leaned forward until he was close enough for you to feel his cold breath on your face. “Stick your hand down your panties and feel how wet you are for me. Then tell me out loud.”

You nodded, happy to comply. Your hands were cold, but you didn’t care. You eagerly snaked your hand under the waistband of your pants, shivering as your icy fingers traced a line down your pelvis until they reached the heat beneath your panties. The moment they dipped over the hood of your clit, you were mildly surprised at just how soaked you were.

“Talk to me, baby,” Eddie’s voice washed over you, and you felt a fresh gush of heat pulse through your core.

“I’m soaked, Eddie.” It was the truth; you couldn’t imagine lying to him when he was so curious. Besides, you wanted him to know that he was reducing you to a deluge in his honor.

Slowly, Eddie sunk down to his knees on your floor. His head was level with your open knees, hands dragging down the skin of your outer thighs as he inhaled the air between your legs.

“Take your fingers out of your pussy, I want to taste them.”

You did as he asked, wide eyes rapt with attention as you watched him grab your wrist and shove your drenched fingers in his waiting mouth. His tongue made you want to melt; it lapped along the skin of your fingers and savored the tart, heady flavor of you. You whined when his lips popped off your hand, but eagerly changed your attitude when his fingers began tracing your waistband.

“Tell me you want me to taste that pretty pussy baby, I can smell how bad you want me already, you smell so fucking good.”

You did. You wanted him to taste your pussy very badly… you wanted it more than you could remember ever wanting anything before now. “I want you, Eddie.” you panted. “I want you to taste me, I’m so wet for you.”

Eddie’s eyes shone up at you, like light through a glass of dark red wine. “I know, baby, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll have my tongue on you again in a second.” He slid his hands into your pockets, gently yanking on the material and jolting your hips forward. “Take these off for me.”

Your hands flew to the button of your pants, making quick work of them as well as your panties while Eddie helped you remove your shirt. You wanted to bare yourself to him completely, let him devour you whole, even. When you looked into those beautiful eyes, letting him have you just made sense.

You now sat completely naked at the edge of your bed, Eddie kneeling before you taking in the sight and smell of you. His gaze was hungry, his hands tracing possessive lines into your outer thighs. “You’re going to lie back for me,” he said, voice low and commanding, “and I’m going to taste this pussy that’s been leaking for me since I first called you baby in the graveyard.” Your eyes were wide, desperate- stuck on his like a moth to a flame. He pressed his hands to your knees, opening you up as wide as you could go, and you felt his breath on your wet lips.

“Go ahead, Slayer.”

You laid back, staring up at the morning’s gradient of cerulean and lavender through your skylight as your heart began to race from the anticipation. When Eddie’s tongue licked a broad, wet stripe from your entrance to your clit, a reedy, wanting moan pulled from your chest, singing into the stillness of your apartment.

“That’s it, give me every noise you have, baby. I’ll know if you’re holding any back, and believe me when I say I’ll make you moan one way or another.”

And make you moan he did. Eddie’s tongue was masterful in its movements, licking and flicking in the perfect places as you listened to the symphony of noises that were coming from between your thighs. Between the sound of his wet tongue squelching in the juices that you eagerly supplied and the humming little moans that Eddie made as he feasted on all you had to give him, it was all you could do not to start sobbing from how badly you wanted to cum for him. You knew he’d get you there, but let’s be honest- you were not a patient person.

“More, Eddie- hngh- please, I need… aah!” Your pleas were cut short as you felt a sharp suck at your swollen clit. You moaned, high and pathetic under the careful ministrations of Eddie Munson. His two middle fingers plunged into you, not bothering to give you time to adjust because he knew you were already wet enough to take him. His fingers curled slightly, sharply jerking his hand up and in, over and over in a way that filled you like a water balloon. You were whining, loudly arching your back into your bed as you squeezed your eyes shut, sensing your climax was fast approaching-

“No,” Eddie lunged forward, his right hand never ceasing its assault as his left grabbed you by the neck, wrenching you forward into a crunch position. “Look me in the eyes while you cum, don’t you fucking close those fucking eyes, baby.”

Your mouth hung open, eyebrows drawn together desperate and needy as you felt yourself getting impossibly wet and impossibly tight. His hand kept going, ruthlessly pounding into you as you screamed his name. Curses tumbled from his lips as he watched you soak his hand, and all the while his other hand stayed curled possessively around your neck. Wetness sprayed from you, and his eyes were downright feral as you squirted all over his face. You watched his smile grow, stretching across his face in triumph and baring his fangs in all their unholy glory before turning his head to the side and opening even wider.

Then he sunk his teeth into your femoral artery, and sucked.

You moaned- loudly- and then you woke up.

Being a vampire slayer who’s had a sex dream about a vampire was pretty embarrassing.

Being a vampire slayer who’s had a sex dream about Eddie Munson was… inconvenient.

When you’d first woken up from… the dream… you’d spent your first waking moments frantically trying to figure out how much- if any- of it had even happened. Had Eddie even walked you to your door, or had you parted ways at the cemetery? Had he actually called you baby? Did he admit he could smell how much it affected you when he’d called you that? Most importantly, had you actually invited him into your apartment?

It took a few minutes, but eventually you sorted out reality from whatever your traitorous brain had concocted. You and Eddie had hunted last night. He did indeed call you baby at one point and teased you about how defensive you got about it. You’d slayed a vampire while Eddie assessed the victim, and afterward the two of you had taken her to Annie at the hospital and updated her on the situation. With Hawkins’ vampire population growing by the day, this wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with a newborn; she knew what to do.

After that, you’d gone your separate ways. As far as you knew, Eddie still didn’t know where you lived- though, you knew if he wanted to find out then it wouldn’t be difficult for him to follow you home undetected. The good news was that he still hadn’t been invited into your home, so you were probably safe as long as you were inside your apartment. Of course, the rules for Hawkins Vamps were still mostly unknown to you, so there was a possibility that he might be immune to the invitations-only rule that bound most types of vampires- but you weren’t about to take him home and test that theory.

Then there was the compulsion- the ability to control the minds of humans and turn them into subservient prey at the mercy of their vampiric predator. You had heard of some vampires having this ability, but had never actually come across it in your time as the Slayer. You hoped that this dream had just been the product of loneliness and sexual frustration taking over a sleep-deprived mind, but how could you be sure? Maybe everything in your dream had actually happened, and Eddie had simply compelled you to think it was all a dream. Maybe he had some sort of psychic powers specific to Hawkins Vampires, and he had planted the dream in your brain just to fuck with you.

You didn’t know what was real. On top of that, Eddie kept trying to get your attention at school the next day and it was getting more and more difficult to ignore him without being obvious about it. You successfully avoided him for the duration of the school day, but he finally caught up to you as you were walking home. Driving his van at a steady crawl, he rolled down his window next to where you walked on the grassy shoulder.

“You wanna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”

You sighed, too chicken to meet his eyes. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Yes you have.”

You sped up your pace, which was stupid because Eddie was literally driving a motor vehicle.

“No, I haven’t.”

You were still refusing to look at him, but you could hear the eye roll in his sigh. “Quit being difficult, Slayer,” he said, still keeping equal speed with your barely increased pace. “Get in the van.”

“No.”

“Uugghhh.” Eddie groaned. “Please? I don’t know what I did wrong but I’ll make it up to you.”

You shook your head but still faced forward as you trudged along on the side of the road. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You didn’t think he had, anyway. “I’m just… I’m in a weird funk today, don’t read too much into it.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then get in the van.”

You felt your cheeks heat at the thought of being so close to him… just the idea was enough to get you wet. You felt the familiar gush of arousal as you walked even faster. “No.”

An echo from last night’s dream reverberated in your skull. So fucking stubborn. You know I can smell you, right?

You picked up your pace.

Eddie sighed, jerking the gear shift into park. In a moment, he was inches in front of you, his hand planted firmly on your shoulder.

“Stop,” he said, his tone much more all-business than before. You did what he said, begrudgingly, but you were glad you didn’t feel any real need to be obedient. No compulsion, then… you thought, at least not right now.

You slowly looked up at him, hoping he couldn’t smell the effect that his sudden touch had on you. “Eddie, it’s fine. Seriously.” you tried to smile at him reassuringly, but you could feel on your face that it came out looking more like a cringe.

Eddie was silent, looking you over with an unreadable expression. Finally, he spoke, “Please get in the van. I’ll take you out for food, whatever you want, my treat. If you aren’t going to tell me what I did to make you so mad at me, at least let me make it up to you somehow.”

You thought it over for a moment, eventually conceding and nodding your head. Eddie exhaled a sigh of relief before turning on his heel to open the door for you. When you were both seated in the car, Eddie looked over to you cautiously, questioningly.

“Milkshakes?”

You nodded, eyes still facing forward. “Milkshakes.”

Benny’s had everything.

They had the best burgers in town. They had the best fries, the best chicken fried steak, the best pancakes in the morning. But the milkshakes? They were the best you’d ever had- which was saying something, since you’d lived in twelve different small towns just like this one since your Slayer powers awakened four years ago.

You sipped your vanilla milkshake through a red-striped straw and let the sweet, dependable flavor ground you. It was like releasing a breath you’d been holding since you’d woken up that morning. Eddie’s powers of observation didn’t need to be above average for him to notice the relief washing over you.

He sipped his chocolate shake, raising an eyebrow as your shoulders relaxed into your first suck of the straw. “You don’t have to talk about it, sweetheart,” he murmured against the plastic held between his lips, “but if there’s something on your mind, you can talk to me.”

Yeah, but you are the thing on my mind, you thought, and therein lies the problem.

“I appreciate the concern, Munson, but I’m fine.” You shrugged. “Like I said, it’s just a weird funk. Normal. It happens.”

Eddie didn’t seem convinced, sipping from his straw as he studied you intently- it was making you uncomfortable.

“Stop staring at me.”

“Stop lying and saying you’re fine, I can tell something’s up.” Eddie reached up with one hand and tapped on one of his dormant fangs with a fingernail. “Vampire senses, remember?”

Your heart rate picked up at the thought of what his vampire senses might be sensing, and you could instantly tell that Eddie had heard it from the subtle tick of his eyebrow.

“Speaking of vampire senses,” you started, eagerly trying to turn the conversation away from your current state, “I have some questions about your, um… powers. Specifically, about Hawkins vamps in general.”

Eddie seemed surprised by the new line of questioning, but nodded cooperatively. Leaning back in his squeaky booth seat, he let go of his glass to stick his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. “What do you want to know, Slayer? I’m an open book.”

Pulling your legs up to rest on the seat of the booth, you made yourself comfortable, leaning against your backpack that sat between you and the wall. “Are you able to enter someone else’s place of residence without an invitation?”

“Yes.”

Your eyebrows jumped. “Really?”

Eddie was already nodding. “I already knew my fair share of vampire lore before my stint in the Upside Down… I tested the more popular vampire theories pretty quick after I figured out what I was.”

You smiled, your curiosity eclipsing the nagging worry in your chest regarding his answer to your first question. “Which theories?”

Eddie chuckled at himself, making a show of counting them out on his fingers. “Well, the first was running really fast- really, really fast, I mean you’ve seen me-” Your scoff and eye roll earned you a cheeky wink from the vampire. “-tested out how good my hunting skills were in the forest by hunting down some squirrels, and let me tell you, super speed and super hearing can only get you so far, because those motherfuckers are always on alert. Learned how quiet I can be now, which is weird because staying still and silent has never been my strong suit.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” you snorted. “And you told me the sunlight thing doesn’t bother you because of your witch friend- what was her name, again?”

“Nice try, but I’m still not telling you.”

You smiled, throwing your hands up in mock surrender. “Worth a shot, I’ll find out eventually anyway.” Taking a sip of your milkshake, you kept your voice even as you asked your next question, which was arguably the most important to you at the moment. “So, uh, are there any other powers that you’ve noticed? Powers that don’t fit into the ‘popular vampire theories’ umbrella?”

He raised an eyebrow, “Such as?”

Ugh. “Well,” you began, focusing on a spot on the table where the vinyl coating had begun to peel off and using your fingernail to help it along. “In some regions, there are vampires who can read minds or compel humans to do whatever they say. Some can even bite humans without turning them.”

“Damn,” Eddie whistled, “lucky bastards.”

“So you’re saying you can’t do those things?” you prompted, to which Eddie shook his head and sighed.

“Nope. First and last time I bit someone, I turned my best friend into a monster. Didn’t feel like testing that theory anymore after that. Can’t read or control minds either, but honestly I’m fine with that. That kind of power doesn’t tend to end well for people.”

You nodded, sipping the final bit of milkshake down. “Wise words.”

Eddie did the same, fishing out his wallet and slapping a ten dollar bill on the table before standing. “They’re the words of someone who’s flown close enough to the sun to know himself pretty well by now.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded towards the door. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you stood and followed him, catching the door as he opened it for you. “Thanks for the milkshake.”

“Don’t worry about it, consider it an apology.”

“I told you, you didn’t do anything! I’m just in a funk-” but if Eddie could hear you, he didn’t show it as he jumped into his van and closed the door.

The drive to your apartment wasn’t long, only about five minutes. Approaching your front door with Eddie in tow gave you the strangest sense of deja vu even though the only time this had happened before was in your dream. You stood with him in the doorway, the warm light of your single-bulb lamp casting harsh shadows across his face as he watched you with eyes tinged with something imperceptible.

“Gonna invite me in?” Eddie asked, his voice husky and eerily quiet in the cold air.

You smirked, feeling slightly apprehensive knowing that he didn’t need an invitation, but was asking for one anyway. “Why, you trying to snoop through my things, Munson?”

Eddie snorted, “We both know that I could if I wanted to, sweetheart, and I wouldn’t need your permission.” He shrugged, leaning a shoulder against the chipping paint on your doorframe. “I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

“Since when has that been your priority?” you bit back, but there was no venom in it. You were already jiggling your key into the brass lock and turning the knob. You weren’t sure why Eddie wanted to come in, but he was right- if he had malicious intent, he could barge into your home whether you wanted it or not. You made a mental note to request some demon-repellent poultices from a witch friend of yours to remedy that…

The door creaked open, and you tried to shake off that wild feeling of deja vu that kept washing over you with every similarity to your dream that kept occurring. Eddie’s boots thumped against the floorboards, heavy souls claiming the aging wood with every step they took. He surveyed your apartment, assessing what he saw with nods of his head and crossing of arms.

“Well I can tell you don’t plan on staying long.” he mused.

You raised an eyebrow, closing the door and locking it behind you. “What makes you say that?”

“The walls are empty. Nothing in here looks like you picked it out. I didn’t know better, I’d think I was in a hotel room. ”

You raised your eyebrows, nodding. “Perceptive. You’re not wrong, you know. I don’t usually stay in one place very long.”

“What’s the longest your wardens have let you stay in one place?” Eddie had hopped up on your tiny kitchen counter, his arms straining against the fabric of his leather jacket as he braced his hands on the ledge. You hoped he hadn’t noticed the way your eyes lingered on the way your dim lighting glinted off his bicep.

“Watchers. Not wardens.” you corrected, shedding your own leather and dropping the coffee-colored jacket over the edge of your bed. “And it’s never been more than a year. If you want to get technical, I think I was in Las Vegas for around 11 months.”

He quirked a curious smile. “Vegas, huh? Lot of vampires there?”

You shrugged. “Tons of tourists to munch on and nothing but nightlife. Believe me when I say that city is run by vampires.”

Eddie chuckled, “Guess that makes sense.” He looked down, as if he were debating whether or not to say whatever he was thinking at the moment. Then- “Any idea if… well, have they told you if you’ll be here long?”

You smiled; it was a small, tentative thing, but you allowed it to grace your lips. “I’ll probably just stay until the council is happy with the knowledge I’ve accumulated about Hawkins vamps. Once they feel I’m needed more elsewhere, I’ll be packed up and moved within days.” You averted your eyes from his, suddenly finding it difficult to voice the reality that any day, you might have to leave Hawkins. Leave the friendship you’d started to get the slightest bit attached to.

You heard Eddie scoff- it wasn’t bitter or laced with venom, but it was hollow. An empty, breathy laugh that didn’t do much to cover the vulnerability he had shown by simply bringing up the subject of how long you’d be staying. “Well, you know what they say- hate to see you go, love to watch you leave.”

It was an attempt at glossing over the mournful mood that’d begun lingering in the air. You looked up at him, brows pulling together in a hopeful, sweeping arch. “You really hate to see me go?”

The smile he’d plastered on was devious and smart-mouthed, but it softened at your question. “Yeah…” he said, his voice lower and rounded as he stroked his fingers along his jawline. “...I think I hate it.” His head stayed down while his slitted eyes looked up at you beneath bushy brown brows. “I was just getting you to like me.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “Who said I liked you?”

“Your heart rate.”

Well, if it wasn’t true before, it was now. You felt all the blood in your body suddenly rushing through your veins with purpose. The room was feeling surprisingly hot, and you absently pondered whether you had left the heater on when you had left that morning.

Your voice matched his quiet timbre, “And what’s my heart rate saying?”

He slowly stepped down from his perch on the countertop, stalking toward you with care, as if he were approaching a wild animal.

Ironic.

“Well,” he started, “something in your brain obviously must have told your heart that you might have to run soon, because your blood’s been racing since I walked through that door.” He took a step closer, and now all you had to do was look up and your faces would be parallel, his eyes boring into yours. “Your body still knows I’m a predator, that’s good.”

He was right. Your blood was racing under his gaze, and he could undoubtedly feel the heat that was radiating off of you- but that didn’t mean you were ready to openly let that show. “What about you? Big and scary ‘Kas the Bloody Handed’?” you asked. “How does your body react around a vampire slayer?”

Now you looked up. He was glaring down at you, pensive and predatory as a cheshire grin slowly crept across his features. “That depends on how much blood I’ve got in me, sweetheart.” You were leaning against the edge of your tiny excuse for a kitchen island, but now that his hands were planted on both sides of your torso and braced along the tiled edge of the countertop, you felt caged in with nowhere to go and nothing to look at except his eyes as they glowered down at you. “If it’s been a while since I've fed… well, to be honest I get a little hungry.”

Breathe.

“And if you’ve had your fill?”

He chuckled. “Oh, baby, if a vampire ever tells you they’ve had their fill, they’re lying. There is always room for more.” You felt a chill, and the blood in your veins was screaming at you now to grab a fucking stake!! However, you couldn’t seem to tear yourself from this conversation. The way he made you feel- hot, ironically enough- was gluing you to the spot.

“But if I’ve got some blood in my system,” he continued, “I have to confess, Slayer, just seeing the way you look at me is enough to make all of that blood rush to all sorts of places.”

You were both silent, but the air was pregnant with the question he knew you wanted to ask. A few short breaths were all it took to make you give in. “And… how do I look at you?”

His thumbs ventured to brush over your hips through the material of your jeans, and you jumped at how much the contact affected you. You took in a sharp breath in surprise, and the strained sigh that rumbled through his chest in response nearly made you shudder.

“Like… a fox that knows it’s being hunted. Wants to be hunted…knows it could outsmart the hunter, but wants the chance to run simply for the thrill of it.”

Fucking. Breathe.

“Is this your way of saying you’re hunting me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, like the tension between the two of you was so fragile that it could be shattered if you spoke loud enough.

Eddie’s lips were inches from yours, and you could feel his cold breath on your cheeks. “This is my way of saying that I don’t need to.” He nodded sharply in your direction, “Fox.” He squeezed your hips, tugging you gently closer to him, “Trap.”

You squirmed under his gaze but refused to look away from his smoldering eyes. “Bold of you to assume I’m the fox in that scenario.”

“Yeah, yeah…” his husky whisper rasped into your ear when the soft brush of his fingers along your hips became a firm grasp as he effortlessly lifted you up to sit on the counter behind you. He did it so swiftly, so easily… it wasn’t hard to forget about his vampire strength when he barely showed it. He gazed into your wide eyes with a grin that was playful but hungry. “Big bad Slayer is a hunter, not hunted. We’re all aware, sweetheart.”

His hands splayed atop your thighs, and you couldn’t remember a time before now that you had felt anything as acutely- or with as much anticipation- as you were feeling every inch of him touching you right now. Your inner calves touching the outer sides of his thighs. The knobby contact of his hip bones where they wedged between your knees. The way his fingertips pressed into the meat of your thighs ever so slightly, like he feared how hard he could squeeze before he hurt you.

You watched his hands, breathless as you studied the light that glinted off his silver rings. There were splotches of faded black shining on a few of his fingernails. It wasn’t nail polish; you’d seen how he colored on his nails with black Sharpie when he got bored in class. Those black nails shone reddish-purple when the light hit them just so, and you shivered as they traveled further up your thighs until he reached the part of your hips that had the most flesh for him to squeeze. A low growl danced in his throat when he heard the noise that escaped you at the sensation his hands were supplying.

He squeezed tighter, tentatively testing how much of his strength you could handle. Luckily for him, slayers are not delicate creatures.

Wordlessly, you lifted your hands to his shoulders, letting your fingers twist into his dark curls. They were beautifully brown, frozen in the perfect shade of chocolate until the end of time. Your nails gently met his scalp, raking through the roots until both of your hands were nested deep in his hair.

You made two fists and pulled.

It wasn’t a sharp tug, wasn’t meant to yank him away from you; it was a slow pull, meant to tease and tell him that you weren’t afraid of a little pain, given or received. He was testing the waters, and you were giving him the all-clear.

His eyes screwed shut when you pulled his hair, and it wasn’t from any sort of pain but simply from the fact that you were doing it in the first place. Eddie took a deep, shuddering breath as he opened his eyes once again to glare up at you with enough impassioned heat to give his bloodless body a temperature. He clenched his jaw until it ticked, then mumbled “alrighty then” so quickly and quietly that you didn’t even know if you were meant to hear it.

And then he was slamming you against the wall.

Your thighs straddled his waist, ass seated in Eddie’s stone-strong hands as you felt your back hit the drywall. His eyes were pitch black, hungry for so many things but settling for your lips as he captured them in his own. You kissed him back fervently, desperate now that you knew his touch and the sensations that came with it.

“God you smell so fucking good,” Eddie growled, pressing into you at the waist and pinning you to the wall where he held you tightly. His lips were insatiable, kissing you like your lips were dipped in sugar and he was a starving man. He panted against your mouth, breathless. “Always smell so fucking good… might be obsessed, I want…want…”

“Want what, Eddie?” you panted with him, eyes fluttering open, wanting to see the way he looked at you when he said things like I might be obsessed as he kissed you… who wouldn’t want to see that? You weren’t disappointed with the sight.

Framed by the backlit baby hairs that formed an evening halo around his head, you might have thought at first glance that Eddie looked angelic. Oh, how wrong that would be. His eyes held far too much gluttony for that.

He leaned in to scent the crook of your neck, causing you to shiver as the tip of his nose traced the base of your skull before whispering into your ear-

“Want to taste you- in every way-” You shivered. “-I want to feel you on my tongue, running down my throat, soaking my hands, falling apart…” Eddie’s lips traveled down your neck, mouthing over the veins that pumped your life force at top speed under sweet, pliant skin. “I want to break you just to know what you look like broken by me.”

The two of you were waltzing on the line of your collective self-control, and you knew all it took would be one little bite- one tiny prick of his fangs- and his venom would pour into your bloodstream. Then it would be goodbye, humanity.

Mustering up the slightest amount of dignity (with surprising difficulty), you took one hand out of his hair and braced it on his shoulder while the other stayed fisted in his curls. With a sharp tug, you used your Slayer strength to remind him he was evenly matched here, yanking him from your neck and bringing his bloodlust-glazed eyes parallel to yours.

“Fucking try it then.” you hissed, “See if you can break me.”

Eddie’s familiar roguish grin triumphantly returned then, and you barely registered his nasal scoff and a rush of wind before you were suddenly being flung onto your bed across the apartment. Eddie climbed on top of you, caging you in with solid arms and a scarlet guitar pick that dangled from his neck to dance on the skin of your collarbone.

He stared down at you expectantly, all-business. “Take your shirt off.”

“You take yours off.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Are you really in a position to be giving the orders, Slayer?”

In a split second, you grabbed his wrists and hooked a leg over his hip, rolling over in the blink of an eye. Now, you were seated firmly on his hips, back arched to splay over his torso and pin his wrists to the mattress. Eddie’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the sudden display of strength and dexterity that he had apparently forgotten you had.

You grinned, cocky. “I am now.”

Eddie glared, thrusting upward in hopes that he might throw you off balance, but to no avail. Rotating his hands in your grip, Eddie dexterously took hold of your wrists and gently pressed his nails into your skin. You winced; his nails were sharper than you’d thought they would be. Almost like…

Claws. Eddie’s nails had grown into catlike points, and now they were applying a little too much pressure. Any more than this and he would surely draw-

“-Blood.”

You whispered to yourself as you watched the bright bead pooling where Eddie’s thumb had pressed hard enough to puncture skin. Before you had time to react, Eddie was pulling your bleeding wrist to his face, inspecting his handiwork up close. He caught a whiff of your scent, inhaling deeply before exhaling so heavily that it rumbled low in his chest. Bringing your wrist to hover above his mouth, you felt your survival instincts kicking in as Eddie’s grip on your arm tightened, squeezing more of your blood to pool into the drop that now hung precariously from the cut in your skin.

Eddie’s finger on the top of your wrist raised, then firmly tapped down hard enough to shake the drop free and send it falling into his waiting mouth below.

You watched, transfixed as Eddie moaned at the taste of you on his tongue. He licked his lips, spreading your blood across them and letting your essence settle into the cracks in his skin. You wondered how long his lips would taste like you after tonight. Would it only take moments for the flavor of you to leave his skin? Or would he still taste you in the morning?

Eddie’s eyes rolled back in his head, his composure slipping under the influence of your blood in his mouth. He pulled your wrist to his mouth and licked greedily at the tiny puncture wound, gently sucking but still staying careful enough to keep his fangs far away from the opening. You were trusting him to be responsible here, as stupid as that was, but so far he seemed to be completely aware of where the line was, and he was careful not to cross it. Test it, maybe… but he wouldn’t cross it. At least you were hoping he wouldn’t.

His gaze settled on yours, and you found yourself at a loss for words. He smiled proudly, slowly sitting up until his face was even with yours. You’d long since let go of your grip on his other hand, and now that your bones were suddenly jelly, it was easy for Eddie to lift both hands to your neck and slot both of them so that his thumbs and pointers rested on either side of your ears. He pulled your lips to his, kissing you passionately and sharing the taste of your own blood from where it still lingered in his mouth.

“Tastes like fuckin’ honey.” He murmured against your lips, tongue snaking out to lick into you, and you couldn’t tell if he was referring to the taste of your lips or the taste of your blood. You recognized it in his kiss- the metallic flavor rolling over your taste buds and awakening something primal in you. Your hips bucked into his, and you felt the solid length that ached for you through his jeans.

Eddie chuckled darkly, rolling his hips into yours in response. “Careful, baby.” You felt his lips lowering, placing gentle wet kisses along your throat. Your heart raced to a bounding pulse as it dawned on you that were he to bite you here, he could kill you quite quickly. “Mmmmmm,” you shivered as his voice reverberated through your neck. “I can feel your blood rushing faster. That just for me?”

You forced yourself to breathe as you confirmed his suspicions with a small nod. Eddie sighed, hot breath pluming from his nostrils and across your skin. “Just for me… all for me…” His tongue emerged once again and licked a fat, wet stripe along the center of your neck, and you couldn’t stop the desperate moan he pulled from you at the sensation. His hand slid down for his thumb to make slippery caresses over the trail of spit he’d left behind.

“I’ve never tasted blood this good, sweetheart. It’s… I don’t know how to describe it, it’s like the way you smell, but better.” His thumb pressed ever so gently into your throat, and you felt the tip of his sharpened nail rake a promise against your skin. Eddie kept it there, pausing for a moment, and you realized with a pang of emotion that he was trying to stop himself from asking for more.

You allowed the slightest bit of tenderness to break through to your exterior, smiling gently at him as you leaned into his touch. “It’s okay,” you whispered, “I can trust you not to take too much, right?”

The lights were dim, but you could see enough of Eddie’s face to make out the glowing smile your trust had elicited. His hands curved gently along the back of your neck, cradling the base of your skull as he pulled your forehead to rest against his own. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

So much warmth flooded your chest at Eddie’s praise that it almost scared you. You knew this wasn’t compulsion- you felt complete control of your body and mind, and felt aware of your ability to tell him no. In fact, you knew in your heart that if you told him that you wanted to stop everything now, he would obey without a second thought, bid you goodnight, and walk right out that door.

But you definitely did not want that to happen.

That much was made clear by the pornographic moan that tumbled from your lips as Eddie’s claw drew a single, shallow gash down the center of your neck. His hand slotted under your jaw, applying enough pressure to hold off the blood flow above your neck for the fewest of seconds. Blood pooled in the cut, and Eddie admired his handiwork with hungry fascination.

“Gorgeous…” he muttered, leaning closer. Your heart was racing, undoubtedly causing the blood to rush even faster to your neck, and when you heard Eddie fucking inhale the scent of your blood like it was a perfectly aged Bordeaux? It started beating out a marathon.

The moment your scent hit his nostrils, you shivered as a guttural, primal rumbling rolled from Eddie’s chest. The growl grew into a moaning sigh as you felt his warmed wet lips envelop the base of the cut on your neck, and lick into the life that pooled there.

He sucked, pulling more into his mouth and you whimpered slightly from the sensation. As if to comfort you, his hands slid a little further down so that they cupped the vertebrae at the back of your neck, and it was strange how you could almost feel his touch getting warmer the more blood he took from you. He pulled your neck closer, hungry for all you had to give him.

For a moment you started to worry, fearing that you may have overestimated Eddie’s control over his bloodlust, but your worries were put to rest when he detached himself from his latch and licked up the minimal mess that he had made.

“Let’s get this off of you, Slayer.”

Eddie’s hands snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, causing you to shiver at the sensation of cold fingers on heated flesh. Before long, You were both stripped down to nothing and panting with need, a tangle of hands and lips and pulses as you melted into each other in the moonlight. He pushed you gently onto your back, climbing over you slowly and with purpose. You felt the hard length of his naked cock bounce against your thigh as he did, and the anticipation you began to feel between your legs was hot and wet, dripping from your lips as if it were salivating for him. You bucked up involuntarily, eliciting an amused chuckle from the vampire on top of you.

“Easy, baby,” Eddie cooed, “starting to think you only invited me in for one thing.”

“Oh blow it out your ass.” you rolled your eyes at him, “Don’t pretend you weren’t hoping for that one thing exactly.”

Eddie smiled, a twinkle in his eye launching your heartbeat into overdrive as he planted a quick peck to the cut on your neck and began to lower himself further south. “I may have had a hunch, yeah.” You watched with rapt attention as his face drew closer and closer to where you wanted him most, the echo of your dream still potent in your memory. What similar talents might the Eddie from your imagination have shared with the Eddie that currently studied your glistening pussy as if it were a delicacy to devour?

In your heart of hearts, you knew that every move you’d made tonight since Eddie walked through that door was absolutely insane. Masochistic, even. But your own idiocy was no match for the ecstasy that hit you when Eddie’s dextrous tongue dove into your folds, twisting and lapping up the essence that he craved in ways that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your arching form.

You moaned, writhing under his touch as his tongue glided over the dripping lips of your core, savoring the flavors of your arousal and the way they paired with the taste of your blood that still lingered in his senses.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart, goddamn.” Eddie’s voice was muffled, wet and hot in the way he spoke it into you and moved his lips along your pussy to speak the words. The sensation coupled with the commentary all but broke you, and you mewled a bewildered thank you as he continued his ministrations.

A sharp sting jolted you, ripping your eyelids open- you didn’t even remember closing your eyes- and it took a second to realize that Eddie had used his sharpened nails to create another gash at your inner thigh. It stung, but only slightly, so you assumed the cut must not be too deep.

“Sorry, sweetheart, did that hurt?” Eddie’s voice was soft and sympathetic as his fingers toyed with the small wound, gently pinching and pressing to undoubtedly coax more blood for him to enjoy.

“Little bit,” you whispered, and the voice that came out of your mouth was so high-pitched and airy that you hardly recognized it. “-but it’s not bad. It’s not too deep, right?”

“Nah, barely even a scratch.” Eddie assured you. “Besides, I’ll close it in a second anyway.”

Your head popped off the pillow. “You can do that?”

“Check your neck, sweetheart.”

You brought a hand to the place where Eddie’s cut had been, but were amazed to find that the cut was completely gone. You felt nothing but smooth, unscathed skin in its wake. Bemused, you checked the cut at your wrist and found it had healed as well.

“How did you do that?”

Eddie shrugged, the pads of his fingers beginning to draw idle shapes over your clit, mixing your blood with the wetness of your cunt. “Apparently, all I have to do is lick a scratch and it heals itself within minutes.” You jolted when you felt his lips close around your clit and suck, whining at the suction as he drew the mixture of your flavors into his mouth and hummed in satisfaction.

“Now if you don’t mind,” he murmured, “I was in the middle of something down here.”

You barely had time to nod before he was diving back between your legs, lapping up your essence with an urgency that lay somewhere between passionate purpose and reckless abandon. He alternated, going back and forth between the bloodied gash on your thigh and the shimmering lips of your dripping cunt.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, arching into the mattress as he moaned into you at the intensity of your taste. “More, please… I need… inside-”

In a blur of movement, Eddie’s face was level with yours, and you were staring directly into his lust-blown eyes as his cock nudged its head between your folds. Eddie shuddered at the feeling, closing his eyes as ecstasy overtook him and he slowly sheathed himself completely into you.

“Hoooooly shit, sweetheart-” Eddie gritted out through clenched teeth. His arm reached behind your shoulders, pulling you flush against him and bringing his mouth to hover mere inches from your ear. “Fucking made for me, so fucking tight.”

When Eddie began to move, your hips bucked to meet him instinctively. In your current position, Eddie had you caged in and wrapped in his arms, held in place as he thrusted into you and grunted sweet, filthy nothings into your ear.

“Feel so good squeezing my cock, baby.”

“Wrap your legs around me, don’t let me leave.”

“God, you smell so fucking good, can still taste you on my lips.”

“Such a good little vampire slayer. Take it all, sweet thing.”

You were getting closer with every word; each whispered praise in your ear made you tighten more and more, but you weren’t quite there yet. As if he could read your mind, Eddie’s hand snaked down between your naked bodies until his middle finger came to rest on your throbbing clit. Careful to keep his claws from scratching the sensitive area, the soft pad of his finger slipped small circles over the wanting bud.

You mewled, eyes rolling back at the combined sensations. The stimulation was overtaking every sense, numbing you to everything but the climb of your orgasm that awaited you on the other side of the peak you were climbing.

“You know what’s crazy, Slayer?”

Eddie’s voice was husky in your ear, and you’d barely registered what he’d said before he continued.

“I didn’t even need the power to control your mind. Didn’t need to make you want me like this, you did that all yourself.”

You struggled to comprehend what he was getting at, but a particularly forceful thrust caused a sharp moan to leap from your lips. Eddie laughed, and it was somehow both musical and malicious all at once.

“Dreams are funny things… I showed up just to see what would happen, thinking ‘hey, there’s no way in hell she’d have me, right? But maybe in my dreams’...” Eddie chuckled ruefully, shifting slightly to angle his cock further into you and moaning at the way you gripped him tighter when your leg was tilted just so.

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. What did he mean he showed up? As in, showed up in your dream? Your mind was reeling, spinning in the midst of the jumbled logic of his words and the mounting pleasure his cock was driving into you.

“But it wasn’t even in my dreams that you wanted me, it was yours… in your dream you gave in to me so easily, practically begged me to tell you what to do…”

What? What was he… was Eddie saying what you thought he was saying? You squirmed, trying to lift him so you could look him in the eyes, but he held you in place- immobile and at his mercy. Your eyes widened as you stared up at the skylight in your ceiling. The moon was full tonight, and it stared down at you unwaveringly as Eddie continued to thrust into you and hit that spongy spot within your cunt over and over and over.

“The compulsion was a great touch, I hadn’t even thought of that until your delicious little brain took a turn for the kinky.” You could hear the smile on his panted words. “One dream told me all I needed to know… you wanted me just as bad, Slayer. Wanted- needed- permission to just let go and admit you wanted the bloodsucker’s cock, didn’t you?”

“Y-you….ah! Oh, fuck!”

You tried to respond, tried to tell him you needed a second to process what he was telling you, but before you could get more than a word out his finger began to work your clit at a pace so rapid, only a demon like him was capable. If you didn’t know better, you would think he’d pulled out a vibrator. That was how fast he was able to rip your orgasm from its precipice and make you spasm out of control around his cock.

“Shit!” You clenched at the sinful sound of Eddie’s voice in your ear as he unraveled inside of you. “Holy- I’m cumming, baby, fuck-” He continued to thrust into you as he rode out his orgasm, murmuring into your neck, “...mine. Fucking mine…”

Your eyes stared unblinking at the moon as you clenched around Eddie’s throbbing dick, mind beginning to flood with post-sex clarity as soon as your orgasm began to calm. Your chest felt like it was clawing at your heart, trying desperately to rip out the offending organ for overtaking the control that your brain was supposed to have had this entire time. Your instincts had tried- god, they’d fucking tried- to tell you not to trust the demon inside you, and yet here you were. Pinned to your own bed with his seed dripping from the most intimate parts of you, and you’d fucking invited him in.

How much of your attraction to him had been you, and how much had been him? You’d asked him so many questions this very night about his powers, what he was capable of- and he’d glossed over a very important piece of information by omitting the fact that he could make appearances in your fucking dreams.

Before you could even voice even one of the questions that swirled around in your head, Eddie’s eyes were hovering over yours, the moonlight dancing in a ghostly halo along his silhouette.

“Listen to me, Slayer.”

His eyes were pitch black, and you found yourself missing the brilliant ruby red they’d shone in your dream. Maybe that’s all tonight was? Just a horrible dream, and the one person you’d considered a friend in this godforsaken town was still someone you could trust.

“I’m going to get you cleaned up, you’re going to get under these covers, and then you’re going to go to sleep.” You heard him take a breath; felt his shaking exhale on your face. “When you wake up in the morning, you’ll forget everything that happened since I walked through that door.”

You blinked, listening intently. Obediently.

“I walked you home, said goodnight at the door, and left. Then you went inside, locked your door, and went to bed. Repeat it back to me.”

“You walked me home, said goodnight at the door, and left.” Your lips moved seamlessly of their own accord, parroting his own story back to him as you stared into those bottomless black eyes. “Then I went inside, locked the door, and went to bed.”

Eddie stared at you a moment, and there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read. It suddenly dawned on you that his eyes weren’t normally black or red. They were brown. You missed how pretty those brown eyes were. They were sweet; honest. Trustworthy eyes.

Finally moving after a few seconds of watching you intently, searching your face for something he evidently couldn’t find, he leaned forward and tenderly kissed your forehead.

“Good.” he whispered, low and tired. “That’s good, sweetheart.”

The night played out exactly as Eddie said it would. He cleaned you up, taking the time to make sure he’d kissed every nick he’d made in your skin until there wasn’t a wound in sight. He watched silently as you cleaned your face, donned a soft shirt so large it reached mid-thigh, and slid under your covers. Eddie kissed you softly before wordlessly locking your doorknob from the inside and exited your apartment. You heard him double check the lock and leave once he was satisfied with your safety.

Then you fell asleep.

Eddie had only dreamwalked a few times before he’d realized that his newfound vampirism gave him the power to manipulate the dreams that he’d recently gained the ability to stumble into.

It had started when he’d heard Wayne sleeping restlessly in the living room of their trailer, tossing and turning on the couch with his forehead pinched with worry. Eddie had wanted so badly to ease his pain, and before he knew it he was watching his uncle’s nightmare playing out around him like he’d stepped onto the set of a film. He’d seen his own gravestone, seen Wayne tearing at the dirt until his fingers bled, and wanted nothing more than to alleviate his uncle’s pain- that yearning on his part had evidently been enough to cause the scene to shift in his favor. The grave had sunken into the ground, the sky changed from stormy gray to sunny blue, and the bed of dirt had become a gingham blanket, upon which sat a significantly happier Wayne and a sticky-fingered Eddie at age four holding a PB&J that was oozing out the sides.

It was at this moment that Eddie had started thinking that maybe these powers he’d gained might not be all bad.

He hadn’t realized he had the ability to manipulate memories until the first time Gareth had lost control and killed that girl from U.S. History.

She’d asked Gareth to meet her behind the bleachers after school, and Eddie had told him not to go, told him not to risk it, but Gareth was so fucking stubborn. The girl was cute, and the idiot had thought he could handle it. By the time Eddie had realized Gareth had ignored his warnings, it was too late.

Eddie had been so close to cleaning everything up seamlessly, and then some cheerleader had to go and stumble upon Gareth, Eddie, and the bloodless corpse of that poor girl. Eddie’s instincts had taken over, and before he knew it he’d grabbed the cheerleader by the shoulders and used every ounce of willpower he could muster to convince her that she hadn’t seen them at all, and in fact what she had actually seen was U.S. History girl walking into the woods behind the school.

It had been a desperate, kneejerk reaction, and Eddie had had next to no confidence it would work, but the next day he’d been amazed to hear that exact story being repeated through the rumor mill word for word. It gave Eddie and Gareth the cover they’d needed to take the girl’s body to the Upside Down and hide it where no one would think to look.

His abilities were handy tricks to have, sure… but it scared him. Eddie didn’t like that every new power he discovered within himself gave him a new way to get away with something awful. Eddie didn’t trust himself enough for that knowledge to sit well with him.

Now, he sat in the cafeteria at his usual table with Gareth, eyes sweeping the room for your face. He hadn’t seen you in the halls yet today, and even though he had every reason to be confident that you wouldn’t remember last night, he’d never tried to erase memories from a Slayer before. Maybe you had some sort of mental defenses against him? Maybe you were already waiting at his trailer, stake in hand? The unknown of it all was stressing Eddie out.

That’s what he was feeling- stress. Not guilt. Eddie had hardened his undead heart enough that he didn’t feel guilty for things like this anymore. If he had been completely honest about his powers at Benny’s, there’s no way you would have trusted him after that. After being an active player in your wet dream without your consent? He didn't know many people who wouldn’t hate his guts after that- hell, he hated his own guts after that. He was a horny creep who’d violated you in more ways than one, and there was no way anyone could forgive him for that. Why should you?

He could have been honest about his memory manipulating abilities, but the idea of giving that secret away had simply scared him too much. It was easier to keep that in his back pocket, and wasn’t that what you always had against him, after all? A wooden stake, always ready and waiting as a last resort. A failsafe.

No. Eddie didn’t feel guilty. For the sake of his own self-preservation, he couldn’t.

As if on cue, Eddie perked up when he saw you enter the cafeteria. Act casual, he reminded himself. He couldn’t act like anything was out of the ordinary, but at the same time he needed to be sure you remembered nothing. Then he could move on, not feel as… stressed.

He watched you discreetly, looking up from his crumpled bag of pretzels every twenty seconds or so to check if you were looking at him. You sat at your normal table on the opposite side of the room, pulling a sandwich from your bag and quietly began to eat your lunch. You didn’t seem to be the least bit concerned with where Eddie was, much less whether or not he was looking at you.

Suddenly, as if you could feel his gaze on you, your eyes flicked up and locked with his. For a split second, Eddie’s confidence in his powers faltered- maybe his powers were useless against you; maybe you remembered last night in all its shameful glory. The jig is up, he thought, I’m caught. Let justice be served.

But all you did was smile at him and give a little wave before turning back to your sandwich.

Eddie felt a nudge at his elbow from Gareth. “You good, man?” the floppy haired boy glanced in your direction, raising an eyebrow in question.

You didn’t remember. Eddie should be relieved… he’d successfully befriended, seduced, and fooled The Slayer. This was a good thing.

“Yeah,” he huffed, reassuring Gareth with a curt nod. “I’m good.”

Good. Such a relative term. So many definitions for the word good, and yet not a single one would make ‘I’m good’ anything but a lie when it came from Eddie’s mouth.

He ran his tongue over one of his sharpened canines, pressing it into the tip hard enough to break skin. The taste of your blood that still lingered in his veins flooded his mouth for a split second before the puncture healed itself, and he closed his eyes to savor you for a moment.

No; Eddie Munson wasn’t good. He hadn’t been good for a very long time.

Taglist (just some people I think will be interested, as well as those who I've spoken to about this story during the MONTHS it took to finally finish): @the-unforgivenn, @vintagehellfire, @munson-blurbs, @littlesubbyflower, @msgexymunson, @hellfire--cult, @word-wytch, @carolmunson, @bettyfrommars

#FIC REC #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #vampire eddie munson #vampire!eddie munson

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