#i love eddie

[stylexrepp]

I wrote this a while ago and I decided I don’t want to work on it anymore so I’m posting this no proof!! (Sorry if it’s god awful and hard to read)

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Bully - Eddie X Reader

You had been stuck sitting next to Eddie in every single one of your classes since the day you started kindergarten.

At first he seemed like a normal little boy until he decided it would be fun to drag you around by your pigtails at recess every day, and laugh along with the other kids. As his bullying continued, you gained courage in middle school to snap back at him. Giving him ugly looks anytime he was in your line of sight or punching his arms as hard as you could manage when he’d let out a raunchy comment. But when you got to high school the roles reversed completely, you were now the bully.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP” you spat at him as you pushed him back against the nearest locker.

Eddie let out as much of a groan as he could while the wind had been knocked out of him. He gave no effort to fight back as you stood there laughing as if seeing him like this was the funniest thing you’ve ever seen.

He looked to you to try and find any remorse as there had been no true meaning for this beat down, all he had done was attempt to ask you how your day had been.

This was a normal everyday occurrence for you two at this point, Eddie would try to muster up a greeting and you’d shut him down with some form of assault. But today you decided to have some fun with him.

“What freak, don’t want to ask about my day anymore, too scared now?” Eddie couldn’t form any words, he stuttered at every type of sentence he tried and all he could let out was “b-bitch”

You huffed at his response and throw your half eaten PB&J at him splattering it all across his hellfire club t-shirt. “I hope your stupid little club likes trash.” You finally walk away and go along normally as if you hadn’t just embarrassed the shit out of a man a foot taller than you.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

As you walk out to the parking lot, you see Eddie leaning against the side of his van smoking a cigarette. You’re surprised to see him alone and not bantering with his buddies. You internally fight yourself to go up to him, as he looks eerily attractive like this. You don’t understand why you would ever think that way about him. You hated him, you wanted him to hate you. He was a dick to you so you needed to return the favor. So why the hell are you swooning over him right now!

“Gonna stand there and stare at me all night?” You snap out of your trance as you hear his raspy voice. Gah why does his voice even give you butterflies.

He finally looks over to you to see if he missed a response from you. “Just trying to figure out why the freak is near my car” he scoffs at that comment as you’ve used freak as your main source of your punishment towards him.

“Are you not getting bored of using the same old comments” Eddie announced “Each time you talk to me you call me a freak, I think we can all understand that’s what I am to you by now.”

You begin to slowly walk up to the side of his van. “What do you want from me, I merely exist and you continuously terrorize me?” You stop in your tracks, you cannot believe what he’s just announced.

“Just exist? You’ve bullied me since the day we’ve met buddy!” Eddie whips his head towards you and gives you a sly grin. “Sweetheart you got it all wrong” he closes the gap between us. I didn’t realize how close I’d walked up to him until it only took him 2 steps to be face to face with me.

You couldn’t breath anymore. What is going on with you, you basically crumbling into the palm of his hand. You never do this. All of a sudden you are hit with the hard metal of the van on your back. Eddie had slammed you up against the van exactly like you had earlier today when you slammed him into the lockers.

“How do you like it princess?” You’re stuck in time,’princess,’ him basically breathing down your neck, his legs rubbing against yours, you couldn’t handle it.. all of a sudden there was a heat growing between your legs.

“E-Ed’s…” you let out as a whimper. You hoped for him to say something back.. but as soon at you said it he let go.

You stand there as he walked to the door of his van and hopped in. You begin walking away with your wobbly legs as you are still flustered from how close he was.

The only words you could even fathom in your head were “what the fuck just happened…well shit.”

[jaykinarts]

TOTA TAKEOVER DAY 3 — EDDIE MCKENNA

Oh I love Eddie so dear!!! <333 HES THE BEST I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM!! Such a wonderful protagonist it was so fun to see everything develop from his POV

[magnoliabutters]

• I THINK WE’RE ALONE NOW •

pairing: eddie munson x (he/him) reader

summary: finally, you find yourself truly alone with munson…

warnings: 18+, mdni, adult language; novice reader, consent discussions, smut, pet names, references to previous parts, oral (reader receiving), semi-public, aftercare, internal dialogue, etc.

word count: ~4.3k

reblogs for daddy eddie 🥴

• the banished ones • part three •

note: this part is dedicated to my pride 2023 collection! and i’ll tell you rn, i thought i wanted to make this the series finale but i’m having way too much fun. there’s def gonna be one or two more parts to the banished ones series...

“Dude, there is no way Solo shot first, okay?” Gareth yells. The tone of his voice clearly shows his level of dedication to Han. “He would never do that.” You scoff, not being able to hold the laughter within. “What do you mean? That is totally like him!” you reply with a smile. You turn to Munson for encouragement. He was already staring at you behind his curly bangs, holding a deep, beaming grin.

Gareth stands up, ripping the book off the table. “You know what,” he says under his breath as he pushes the DnD: Basic Set into his backpack. “Aw common dude”, you and Ben overlap. “Nah, man, that’s a bit too much Han Solo hating for me,” he says, shaking his finger back and forth. “Gareth, common,” Ben pleads. “Who said I was hating?” you scoff. “I love Han and I love that he shot first.”

With a deep sigh, Gareth quickly says, “Goodbye.” He rushes down the stage’s stairs and out the door. You swear you could see steam coming from his ears. “Damn it,” Ben says as he places a worried hand to his forehead. “What’s wrong, Peterson?” Munson asks in an annoyed sing songy voice. “Gareth was my ride,” he mumbles. “My parents are gonna kill me.”

You turn towards Munson, mouthing “yikes,” but he was already lost in thought. His eyes perk as soon as he figures something out. “Y-you can take my van,” he suggests, grabbing the keys from his denim pant’s pocket. Ben slowly reaches for the keys as though they were gold. “You’re sure?” he asks. “Yeah, J will take me home,” Munson answers with a firm slap to your back.

As Ben’s fingers touch the key’s rings, Munson whispers in his ear, “If you fuck up my van, I fuck you up.” Ben stands straight as possible with blinking eyes as Munson returns to his cheery self. But you aren’t even able to enjoy it. Your mind struggles to accept the fact that you’ll be spending even more time with him, alone. And you know what happens when you two are alone.

“O-okay,” Ben says with a shudder as he hooks his backpack over his shoulder. He walks out hastily, with an occasional look back towards Munson. “I’m sorry, I just assumed,” he laughs charismatically. “Is it alright if you take me home?” You stumble with your words, still trying to process the idea. “Y-yeah, um, that’s fine,” you stutter.

Munson’s smile grows twice in size. His eyes twinkling in a way that makes your heart flutter. “Lead the way,” he says as he gestures towards the auditorium’s entrance. You walk forward with hesitance, a deep swallow to your throat. Your hand shakes as it reaches the keys in your pocket.

He follows behind you. The distance being an odd mixture between nervously close and a good length away. He seems to be a master in the craft, effortlessly moving between touch and distance. But you cannot deny how his touch makes you feel. It transports you somewhere, a place filled with happiness and rocked with your wildest dreams of peace.

Silence fills the remainder of your walks through the halls and into the parking lot. It feels like a wasted opportunity, but no words pop into your head. All you can think about is his hand on your thigh. His fingers tangling with your button and pants. The way your heart pops out of your chest like and old-timey cartoon any time his eyes fall upon your own.

“A Volvo, huh?” Munson asks with a smile as he trails a finger against your hood. You look around the parking lot and realize yours is the last car. No one else is here. “J?” he asks again with a chuckle. One brow raises suspiciously. You quickly turn to him with wide eyes and a self-conscious laugh. You push a hand through your hair sheepishly.

“What were you thinking about?” He asks with a sweet smile that makes your stomach flip somersaults. With a quick inhale, you walk towards him with a smirk. An oh-so-confident smirk that he found curious. “Oh, I was just thinking how you’re going to be my passenger princess,” you say with a sigh. A beaming smile ending your words.

Munson lets out a sharp breath through his nostrils as he shakes his head. A smile forms on his lips as his tongue presses against the roof of his mouth. "Usually, I'm the driver," he says softly with brows raised. You walk closer to him, sliding your hand into the door's handle. You open it and gesture for him to sit down. He takes a second, inhales, and sits down. "You're my princess now," you mutter before closing the door. His wide eyes stare back at you with a gaping, yet amused mouth as you walk to the driver's side.

You take one last look at the parking lot. A second confirmation that the two of you are, in fact, alone. It's not that you need to be alone to with him, or that you want to hide him from others. You find safety and solidarity in the absence of people. The fear of being who you truly are dissipates as they do. This part of you that has been burrowing so deep within finally has the opportunity to come out. Finally, you can get to experience that part of you in your new found reality.

As your hand rests against the handle, tightness pangs against your chest. You have never done this before. You think you know what you want, what you should do, but you have never once done this. You haven't done any of this with anyone, excluding that one horrid birthday party where you played 7-minutes in heaven with Judy Thompson in 8th grade. That kiss is when you knew, without a doubt, that something was off. That girls don't bring the same floating, exciting feelings to your chest. No, no - that feeling was saved for boys, for men. Men like Munson.

You sit down with your hands tight against the steering wheel. You can feel Munson's gaze on you. There is an uneven tension within the air. You've never done this ... but should that stop you? You take in a quivering breath with eyes closed. Your shoulders practically at your ears with the inhale. You turn to him, opening your eyes to those chestnut irises. You instantly feel that warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest. Your hands slowly reach to his cheeks. You watch as his eyes widen just before yours close and your lips touch.

His lips, pink and supple, feel like clouds against your own. You can feel the soft curls of his hair against your fingertips. With another peck, you feel his hands against your biceps. They support you in your gentle hold against his cheeks. His kisses are sweet, gentle, and loving. You feel as though you had died and gone to heaven. Your Volvo, Munson, and you would be the beautifulest slice of heaven.

Your hands gradually travel further into his hair. Fingers now entangled in those brunette locks. His palms now cup your cheeks. You know he can feel your smile within his hands. With each graze of his lips, you find yourself craving more. Your grip onto his hair becomes tighter. You readjust yourself in your seat as you lean closer to him. He is intoxicating. His smell. His touch. His taste.

Without further delay, you lightly brush your tongue against his lips. You are met with the strength of his own as your mouths widen. The blood drains from your face as you feel pressure in your stomach. He now pushes against you, coming closer and closer to you. Somehow you disconnect from your body and your subconscious reaches for the handle to push your seat back.

Munson takes the cue and gracefully lands his knee beside your outer thigh. He straddles your legs. His curls now brushing against your face as he peers down to kiss you. You struggle to catch a breath, only because you would rather kiss him forever than to take a second to stop. Your hands nervously raise to his hips as his remain on your cheeks. His nails dig into your skin, an exciting sensation.

As his tongue now resides in your mouth and his breath is hot upon your lips, your hands travel up his back. Your grip tightening with each second that passes. Slowly, you feel his hips begin to move. Panic strikes you as you feel all the blood reach your lower extremities. Your kisses are more rushed. Your hands more careful. It's almost as though your mind and its bundle of overwhelming thoughts has returned.

With each rut of his hips, Munson's friction against your jeans becomes harder and harder. You open your eyes, staring at your car's beige clothed roof - still kissing him, but praying to the fucking gods that you don't bust right here. You have never felt so good. Never felt so alive.

You can feel your body tensing up. You can feel that familiar hot and firm sensation in your pants. His thrusts against your lap never stopped. Not that you would ever want them to stop. You don't want to get a boner too early. Is there such a thing as too early? Fuck, man. Maybe think of feet, or salamanders, or-or volcanos - wait, no, not volcanos.

As he leans over you, your hands find a sweet, bare spot at the base of his spine. Your fingertips explore digging under his shirt. His skin is soft and warm. Fuck, this isn't helping. You start to pull away for some breaths, but he doesn't stop. His sweet lips now find a place against the nape of your neck. His cool breath sending shiver downs your spine. Fuck, that doesn't help either!

Gradually, Munson's movements slow down. He pulls his lips away from your neck, which almost makes you whimper. His eyes fall upon you with a straight face. Yours undeniably expresses worry as you look his way. "Lean the chair back and scoot up," he says calmly as his hips maintain an easy grind against your lap.

While still presenting those worried lines on your face, you reach down to pull up the seat's handle. It reclines until it hits the back seat. You sit frozen. "Now, scoot up," he coos. You catch a hint of a smile in reaction to your innocence. You reluctantly pull your hands from his hips as you scoot back to the headrest of the chair. Your torso leans against the backseat.

As you move, Munson adjusts himself where he kneels on the car floor and rests between your legs. Your eyes widen at the sight. Your mouth practically watering. The tent in your pants becoming more and more unavoidable. His hands press firmly into your thighs. A sensation you would imagine would be comparable to a massage. "May I?" he asks softly. His hands now resting in the spot where your thighs and hips meet. "I felt you," he murmurs. "It felt good."

Your entire body feels as though its filled with pins and needles. Nervousness rips the breath right from under you. Words aren't coming out, well - if you even had words to say right now. Your mind is completely blank. Then all of a sudden, words come out without your intent or knowledge. "I've never done this before," you whisper. Your eyes fall to your chest as your jaw clenches. Stupid, you think. Why did you tell him?

Munson leans over your body once more. His chest heavy against your hips. Two fingers pinch your chin, pulling your gaze towards him. "It's okay," he says. A deep breath you hadn't noticed you were holding releases. "I'll take care of you," he soothes as he floats back onto his knees. His eyes are glued to you as his hands reach your pants. His fingers unbutton your jeans, relieving some pressure - at least physically. He then tucks his fingers into your waistline and pulls them down. You nervously help him get the jeans from under you, but he continues to pull them to your knees by himself.

One hand presses harshly against your chin, covering your mouth. The other shakes, tapping fingers against your thigh. He quickly notices and intertwines his fingers with yours. Your shaking stops as you feel his comforting embrace. "I'm going to ask again," he says softly. "I need you to be honest with me. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do." You nod hastily. Your vocal box no longer attached to your body. "Do you want me to keep going?"

You take a second to think, as much as you wanted to immediately say "yes." Your mind reels over the possibilities. If you say no, will you ever have this chance again? If you say yes, will you regret it? You'll be giving yourself, all of yourself to him - a boy, a-a man you just met today. But this man isn't just anyone. He isn't the first gay man you've ever met. There is something about him that gives you courage. That makes you feel like you can do anything, be anything. Like you can dare to be your true self. You deserve to be your true self, to follow your heart.

"Yes," you say with the utmost confidence. That little nervousness in the back of your throat persists, but you acknowledge that it's because this is your first time being this intimate with someone. Not that you are worried that this may be a mistake. You are more confident now than ever in knowing that this is most definitely not a mistake.

Munson nods, a slight smile to his face. He peers down at your checkered boxers. "Hm, I was expecting something a little brighter," he jokes. You let out a chuckle of relief. "Maybe next time," you say softly. "Oh, there's going to be a next time?" he asks sincerely. Your heart drops as anxiety fills it again. "I hope so," you softly plead, shooting him those worried eyes he's come to enjoy. With a smile, he shares, "I hope so too."

He tucks his fingers underneath the elastic of your boxers. You rush your hands to your eyes. Somehow it makes sense to hide. He smiles as he pulls further down. You feel your cock flip to your stomach, firm as can be. Your pants now joined by another garment.

The pressure on your eyes stronger than ever. "Oh fuck," Munson says breathlessly. You tear your hands from your eyes to see what was wrong. Your gaze lands upon him. The tongue that slicks his bottom lip. The eyes that gleam and twinkle. The teeth that dig into the flesh of his lips.

His breathing now matches yours. You wonder if he's nervous too. The sight excites you as you slowly become more confident in your bare and exposed body. “Oh man,” he mumbles to himself. Another uptick in your stress meter. “I can work with this, J.” His jaw tightens as he takes more deep inhale. You can’t help the smile broadening across your face.

Munson’s hand slowly rests at your hip bones. His skin against yours is a pleasure you never thought to have existed. Let alone a sensation you would be able to experience with someone else. His hand slowly slides closer and closer to your base. You can feel yourself twitching in anticipation.

His fingers slowly collapse around your girth. You bite your lip, hoping to keep a moan from coming out. He looks up to you with a laugh as he slowly raises his grip and slides it back down. “I like seeing you squirm,” he says with a raising brow. It feels like a taunt. Like a ball served over the net, expecting your return. You nervously laugh, from the situation and the new sensations. “I like your hand on my cock,” you say.

Immediate regret fills your face and you struggle to keep your cool. But without missing a beat, you naturally add, “Princess.” Munson huffs with a glowing grin. Another side nod and the sexiest words fall from his mouth. “Okay, daddy.” You can’t help but squirm again, especially since he decided to squeeze a bit harder with his last word.

A harsh breath escapes you as his movement quickens. You find your hips wanting to move with him. Little moans you can’t help leave you. You have never felt so damn good. His thumb brushes against your head ever so lightly. You are as red as can be. Your sensitivity levels on max. “Mm,” you let out as your head falls back and you lick your lips.

His movements continue. Up and down. Pulsating squeezes. A thumb to rub the head. Suddenly, you hear a spit, followed by a sudden coolness against your cock. His fingers slipping much easier, much quicker against your skin. “Oh fuck,” you painfully plead, desperate not to blow too early. Not only would that be embarrassing, but you most definitely want more and more of this touching.

“Mmm, good boy,” Munson murmurs in response. Your crown still pressed against the headrest. Your body tight. Eyes closed shut. You feel a soft breath against your head, another new feeling. Then you feel a familiar softness as it wraps around your cock. A warm, moist spot that makes you want to crumble into pieces.

Curiously, you look down and see his curly mane bobbing against your groin. “Oh shit,” you say desperately. Your eyes wide open now. Almost involuntarily, your hand returns to its favorite spot, to tangling within his locks. His tongue swirls around your head in a way that makes you dizzy. How could this feel even better than the last? How could anything feel better than this?

Another brush of his tongue and you truly are struggling to hold it in. Sweat bullets drop from your forehead. You pull your eyes away from him, hoping maybe that would help. Of course, it does not. “Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble to yourself. A hand now resting against your mouth.

At your mewling sounds, Munson finally takes all of you in. You feel his tongue slick and firm against your raging cock. The warmth that you never knew you craved. His hand now gently cupping your balls. A soft thumb rubbing over them. “M-M-Munson,” you call out, trying to warn him. But in this world, filled with pleasure, there are no words. No words you or he could muster.

Once you feel that pit in your stomach, you finally disconnect from your brain and live in the moment. Your hips begin to rut as his hands support him at the tops of your thighs. The fingers deep within his curls begin to tighten and tug. The moans falling from your lips no longer filtered. Your other hand smacks against the door frame, digging your nails into the window’s pocket.

Abruptly, Munson pulls up from your cock with a gasp. Saliva strings still connecting you two together. One hand wipes it off his lips as the other grabs firmly at your base. His movements now quicker than ever, following the lead of your hips. The pit in your stomach grows deeper and deeper until…

“Fuck!” you yell in a whisper. You feel the familiar warmth spots falling against your stomach and thighs. Your hips still rutting against him. His hand still tight, but with smoother slides up and down. His other hand lightly massages the top of your thigh. You feel your high slowly fading away, thankful for his support in guiding you down.

Gradually, your eyes open to the sight of Munson hiding behind a strand of his hair. A guilty, sheepish smile behind the curls. You laugh despite your exhaustion. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says sweetly as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. You quickly raise up, pulling your legs from under him.

“No, no,” you say with a waving of your hand. “I got it.” You pull the bottom of your shirt over your head. He’s seen your cock, you figure he could see your chest - despite the dependable self-conscious feeling of the act. You roll your shirt into a ball and gently grab his hand to wipe off any remaining cum. Then you wipe the cum off your skin. “I might like being the princess,” he says softly, but you could only hear a mumble. “What was that?” you say as you raise your head from your cleaning.

Munson shakes his head, pushing his lips out into a mix of pout and grin, as he answers, “Nothing.” Clearing his throat, he adds, “We should probably get going. Janitors usually get in at 10.” He takes one look, another bite to his lip, before pulling away. He crawls over to the passenger seat before peering back at you. “They get cranky if they find anyone on campus.”

“How would you know?” you say with a grin. You find relief in your conversations remaining random and comfortable. You start to pull your boxers and jeans up. “There’s no time limit on finishing a campaign, okay?” he retorts. You can’t help but laugh as you hook your button closed. You gracefully pull the seat up and to a comfortable position to the wheel. Seat belt across your torso and buckled in. He watches intently.

As you reverse the car, you ask, “Where to, Munson?” In a booming, announcing voice, he states, “Forest Hills Trailer Park.” Another chuckle falls as you shake your head. “I have no fucking clue where that is,” you say. He responds hastily, “Oh, right, um … Turn right here.” You turn on your blinker and steer right out of the parking lot and into the road. Out of the side of your eye, you see a hint of confusion across his face.

“Okay, so at the next stop sign, you wanna take a right,” Munson says with another point to the right. You have to hand it to him. He’s a pretty good tour guide. The man has you turning back and forth every other street where you just so happen to pass by what he thinks is the coolest parts of Hawkins. You press on your breaks a good few meters away from the stop sign as you have been taught. But, again, you receive a confused glancing look.

“What?” you scoff. “Oh nothing,” Munson says as he turns his torso back towards the road. “Bullshit,” you say as you come to a complete stop. You flip on your blinker and wait three seconds before turning. He looks as though he might burst. Whatever words he has, he is holding them back with tears in his eyes.

“Spit it out, Munson,” you taunt. “Or should I say ‘Eddie?’” He takes in a deep breath, pinching his pointer and thumb together. “You drive like a grandma,” he says calmly and slowly. “What?!” you ask with incredulous laughter. “What because I follow the law?”

Munson takes in a sharp breath as his smile becomes a thin line. Your words almost seem painful to him. “The law?” he asks in a bit of a choke. “Oh, what, like you don’t?” you ask with a scoff. He shakes his head inquisitively. He draws your attention to his torso with no seat belt. He digs into his pocket and reveals a blunt and zippo lighter. He grabs hold of his collar, pulling it down to show the tattoo of a black detailed spider.

“Impressive,” you say while nodding. “Dangerous,” you add as you reach for the passenger seat belt. “Put it on, princess.” Munson rolls his eyes but complies with a smile as your gaze returns to the road. “Let’s just say,” you continue, trying to hype yourself up. “I follow the law of the road.”

Your failed attempt has Munson cackling. Stifling his laugh, he asks, “Do you have any tattoos?” You snort at the idea. “You just saw me naked. I feel like you should know.” He shoots you his bullshit grin. “I didn’t see your ass, or your back,” he starts. “But you wished you did, huh?” you lean over to him, biting your bottom lip.

His smile now quivers as his eyes look at your lips. “Maybe,” he says with a rising pitch. His blushing cheeks suddenly become the best thing you have ever seen. You struggle to fight the urge to not kiss him. Your eyes have to be on the road, remember?

“Oh! Forest Hills, right?” You point towards the barely lit sign. It rests in a field of dirt with patches of grass. You click your blinker to turn left. “Yeah,” Munson adds, abruptly pulled from the flirtatious moment he was enjoying. “It’s the trailer in the back and to the right.”

You pull onto another patch of dirt in front of the Munson trailer. Your headlights shining brightly against the metal. Your heart sinks as you put your car into park. You thought you were ready to say goodbye, to see him tomorrow for more inconspicuous, daring flirting and touching in public. But no. You aren’t ready. You want to stay in this car, stay with him forever. Your hands never leave the steering wheel. Your eyes stare into the odometer as you attempt to think of a clever idea to keep the night going.

“I owe you a shirt,” Munson says, drawing your attention. “You should come in.” Your heart leaps, your mouth drops. A small piece of you considers telepathy, but you quickly push that thought away. “Yeah, I should. Shouldn’t I?” you say with a smile as you turn off the ignition and rest your keys on your lap. He laughs at your fast response. Those blushing cheeks return.

“Lead the way, Munson.”

note: thank you for so much for reading! have a happy & safe pride! just remember, there is more to come...

comment and/or reblog if you'd like to join the taglist!

taglist: (thank you!) @wolfiescosplay, @eddiesprettygirl, @unholycheesesnack, & @wrandomwritting

• series • updates • pride pairings collection •

[zleepysnails]

merry christmas from Eddie Dear!

[butraura]

Something about Eddie helping smuggle Christopher into the ICU and crying all the while is so special to me bc he didn’t want to let Chris see Buck like that but he also 1. Didn’t have the emotional or mental strength to argue about it; and 2. Didn’t know if it would be the last time Chris ever saw Buck alive and didn’t want to rob him of the opportunity to speak to him one last time.

And Eddie doesn’t know this but when he was shot and Buck and Carla had that conversation about Chris like “do you think he knows what’s going on?” and “I think he understands more than we’d like him to” because he’d already lost his mom… like Carla knew that Chris understood the very real possibility that Buck wouldn’t survive this time which is why he was so damn insistent about seeing him. Because if he was about to lose another parent, he was damn well gonna get in the last word and make sure Buck knew he was loved and wanted and to convince him to claw his way back to his family.

Eddie doesn’t necessarily realize how much Chris understands, either. So listening to him talk to Buck only exacerbates his own grief and guilt.

Also I have a head canon about Eddie staring at the lightning scars on his own hands and forearms the first time he changes after the accident and feeling so guilty and terrified that he refuses to touch Buck at all in his coma until they fade, but when Chris sits with him he notices them himself and traces his fingers over them gently and when he sits with Buck he looks for them on his hands but doesn’t see any. And he asks Hen and Eddie where Buck’s scars are, and Hen explains that they’re on his chest because that’s where the lightning hit. And Eddie is just devastatingly sad but Chris is right there with him through it all…..

[hawkebuckley]

unpopular opinion: i don’t want eddie back.

[pyr0graves]

Eddie dear sketches for the soul 😎💥💥

[poppy-metal]

he makes a tiktok of himself dunking a basketball and doing a lap. eddie makes fun of him in the comments :(

"can't keep you away from balls if we tried."

[doctapuella]

sorry but i am SO HAPPY the triple crown has been split up and we can get back to business with actual defenses and (new) reigns

[echysketchy]

sorry i havent posted in a while but heres some art i made of a silly au idea for eddie!! let me know what you guys think :))

[crackedmultifandom]

no u don’t understand. you don’t see eddie the way I do. he’s longing for soft touches. he’s touch starved. all his life, he’s been treated like a freak, everyone was always rough with him. so when steve gives him what he needs, attention, soft touches, eddie freaks out. but steve is patient and then one day, eddie finally let’s himself have this. knows that he deserves love, and soft love and not the roughness that he’s always known.

[carphoegras]

it is with a heavy heart that i announce that eddie fucking munson is also the worst enjolras i will need 5-8 business days to recover from this revelation please keep me in your prayers during this trying time

[magnoliabutters]

• STAY A WHILE •

pairing: kas!vamp eddie munson x (she/her) reader

summary: an unexpected guest tends to put a kink into things…

warning: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; canon divergence, enemies to lovers trope, season 4 spoilers; first half is straight up porn, previous series parts mentioned, internal dialogue, hardcore vamp shower sex, blood, gore, y/n count: 2, fluffy fluff, trauma responses & bonding, physical fighting, (unprotected) p in v, grief, violence, etc.

word count: ~8.6k

reblogs & thoughtsies are so appreciated pweaze 👹

• stories of eddie munson • season two • previous part •

note: this is for you, anonymous ♥️✨some influence from true blood & other vamp media, i ain’t gonna lie! also here are some smut resources I used to up my game; instead of & this spencer reid edit (so fahking hot).

thank you to @nackrosor for taking the time to beta read this part! you and your thoughts are so so appreciated and you truly helped make this part 10x better. ii think we make a great duo and i am very thankful. my loves, please check her out - her stories and, particularly, her smut is to die for...

Ten minutes. Ten minutes have passed. Ten minutes have passed and the water remains heated. You find it baffling. A shower surprisingly still warm to the touch. It feels good, better than you had imagined. Just like how his arms are still wrapped so tightly around you. Tightening with every second that passes. It feels good, better than you had imagined.

Ten minutes have passed and his arms are still hot to the touch. He hasn’t moved his forehead from your shoulder. His breath still a light breeze against your back. Your cheek rests upon his temple, digging deeper into the comforting embrace. His hair smells of honey. It’s soft, softer than you remember.

“Kas,” you coo. Kas’ head immediately perks up, but his arms continue to grip around you. “Why does your hair smell like honey?” you ask with all sincerity. He smiles as he returns to his rest. You can hear the soft laughter before a slow inhale. “You know, I’m not really sure.” He finds the topic random, but enjoyable. He wouldn't expect anything different from you. He would do anything, any thing to help you feel better.

You look over your shoulder, pinning your chin against your muscle. He pulls away naturally. Your eyes rake over that gentle face, pausing at each feature - taking him in. “Did you find a conditioner out there or something?” you ask but a laugh interrupts you. An unspoken understanding of how odd the conversation topic is and yet, it’s better than talking about your new-found reality.

Kas huffs, truly thinking about the concept. “No,” he shakes his head. “I was more focused on food than my hair to be honest.” You gasp, making him jump. He chuckles at his startled reaction. “How could anything come before your hair?” you inquire. His smile matches yours as he places a kiss upon your shoulder blade. Your eyes close as his lips press gently onto your skin. You soak in the sensation as though it may be your last.

“Okay, maybe I found some gel somewhere,” he admits with a tilt of his head. His front teeth biting into his lower lip. You turn your head back to the faucets, leaning further back into his chest. “For the bandana, right?” you mutter. “Yeah, for the bandana.” He adjusts his hands, but pulls you in closer as you rest between his legs. The water now rushes against your stomach.

Kas tucks his chin into the nape of your neck. He places a peck on your skin before nuzzling in some more. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks hesitantly. You let the words float, contemplating a response. You note how your chest feels more open, that you can actually breathe. Your head feels centered and balanced, no longer light.

You could talk about it, if you wanted to. And yet, “Talk about what?” He lets out a breathy laugh as he hugs you tighter. Each squeeze gives you an ounce of your life back, an ounce of control. “Nothing, darlin’,” he says with another light kiss. You center your breathing, taking a deep exhale as you lean further into his embrace.

You stop - you feel something. It's not physical. It's not sweet. Your eyes closed and your heart opened, enough where you were startled awake again. You find comfort in him, in his hold. This time, fully aware, that these arms are not Eddie's. This chest is not his, nor these kisses. What you are loving, appreciating in this moment - these are Kas' actions. Kas is opening your heart...

“Should we-we should probably stand,” you suggest. Your hands reach the lipping of the tub. You push up as his arms fall to his side without retaliation. Kas follows behind with eyes to the shower’s floor. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he mumbles as he steps out. His soaked black jeans limit his movements almost comically.

You reach for his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it. The action not tethered to your conscious, but here you are having to explain it. His eyes land on your grip and then trace up your arm and to your face. “You can stay,” you whisper. His eyes slightly light up as he takes in a breath. “I-I need help getting my back,” you quickly lie. A smile pulls to his right side as he nods. “Of course.”

Kas leans onto his other leg, still being drenched by the water, but you quickly stop him. “Those must hurt. You should take them off,” you suggest. Your eyes lift to his. Innocence fills them, and that same innocence he sees. He likes this side of you. He nods before taking off his jeans and boxers. You could see where the denim had irritated his iridescent skin. With a deep breath, you quickly raise your eyes. "A-and your bandana too."

Something changed between you both. Why fight it?

Kas stands before you, completely bare as you are for him. Your eyes travel from his lips, to the nervous swallow of his adam’s apple, to his collar bone. Your body craves his skin, craves a bite and a kiss against those bones. You revel over Eddie’s tattoos. The spider that you aimed for any time you fell asleep on his chest. The light brown happy trail that leads to his finely groomed bush. Your heart races at the sight of his cock. You try not to let your emotions show, but you take in a sharp breath through your nostrils.

You missed his body. You have missed it every second since that night.

As you finally make your way back up to his eyes, you realize he has been watching you the entire time. A smile thick upon his face. Despite your blush, you grab hold of the soap and lather your hands. "You coming?" He softly chuckles as he takes a step into the tub. He faces you, awaiting your love. “Turn,” you instruct while guiding his body to turn around. You were not yet ready for any head on act.

Kas watches you through the corner of his eye while you massage his back. You recognize the little beauty marks you like to trace here and there. There was always one to mirror the other. A pair of beauty marks on his left shoulder blade. One at his mid-back, a mark on either side of his spine. But your hands stop at the rough surface of his lower back. The scars you do not remember. The scars that are not his. They are Kas’ scars.

Despite its healing, the wound remains pink with ripples of dark red. It rips around his waist and to his stomach. You have seen it, this huge break in his skin, but you haven’t been able to study it. To really see the pain that caused and followed the injury. You are careful to touch it, careful not to hurt him. He has been through so much.

You lower your hands onto his butt cheeks without hesitation. Kas lets out a sheepish giggle as he steps forward, as though he didn’t expect it. His reaction catches you off guard, leaving you with confusion and a chuckle. “You ticklish?” you ask as you grip against his cheeks again. He yelps as he presses his palms upon the tiled wall. You laugh alongside him. Did you find his weakness? His ass? “I just didn’t see that coming,” he murmurs out of breath. “I’ll move on I guess,” you lead as you tauntingly giggle. You crouch as your hands fall to his thighs and down to his calves. He drops a harsh breath as his finger taps against his outer thigh.

As you raise, your hand trails up his soft body. Your fingers light upon his skin as you trace them up to the crook of his neck. You step aside to allow the hot water to splash against his pinking back. Your hand still travels his body, slowly making its way to his devilish jawline. A fingertip lands at his chin, guiding his face back towards you. The smile has now disappeared. He peers down at you with a flat lip. His eyes scream for your attention, but you are stuck glaring down on his cock standing straight as ever. “So predictable,” you murmur as you step forward. His dick now resting at your hip as your finger brushes a curled lock behind his ear.

Your eyes return to his, expecting his sex gaze that usually ends with a leaned in kiss, but you are left surprised. His brows are perplexed as he places space between you two. No sex in his eyes. He looks at you as though he was finally able to see you, to examine you just as you had with him. His finger brushes against your right ribs which rips a wince from your lips. You turn down to see a purple, yellow bruise beneath your breast thickly spread across your side. His eyes turn to the side of your face.

His finger guides your chin to the right as he observes the harsh red line wrapping your neck. It is almost as though his attention pulled your own. The unfortunate act that now has you feeling every ounce of pain within your body. With a shift of your weight, you can feel all your joints screaming and on fire.

“I’m sorry he hurt you,” Kas mutters as he reaches for the soap. He rubs it across your chest, desperate not to make eye contact with you. His eyes are down like those of a child who’s done wrong. He lathers the soap across your skin gently. He pays special attention to the beaten parts of you. However, you could barely notice his level of care. Your gaze had deadened, blurred to all hell, once reminded of your injuries. Somehow, you find comfort in knowing that your pain matches his. That you two are tethered together. Your bodies telling the story of your combined tragedy.

He breaks your train of thought with five simple words. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he says flatly. His touch still delicate on your body. This time you purposefully seek out his eyes, ducking down to find them. Once met and he could not longer hide, you can see the tears welling within them. You can stare into his brown, red flaked eyes without worry. Your hand instinctually floats to his cheek. Your thumb caresses him and he leans deeper into your palm. The silence feels comfortable, natural, enjoyable between you two, as though you have done this for years.

You lean into him with eyes closed. He watches you like a deer in headlights. Your lips lightly land upon his, a soft kiss that causes electricity to fire throughout both your bodies. The sweetness distinct as you open your mouth and take his tongue in. Its strong force thick upon yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and closer into you. He crashes even harder against you. His hands gripping onto your hips before wrapping around your mid back.

Kas pins you on the cool tiled wall. Your fingers dig into his back. He quickly tucks his hand beneath your thigh, hiking your foot up and onto the tub’s ledge. His moans reverberate upon your lips and you pull him deeper and deeper. Your fingernails digging into his skin. Both of your breaths hot, fast, and harsh.

“Kas,” you whimper as his kisses travel down your chin and onto your neck. Your hips rut against his throbbing cock. He moans above your skin as he grinds opposing your force. The water rushes between you two with such pleasure. Your hand reaches for him, tightening your fingers around his girth. A thumb brushing across the threshold of his tip. You bite into his bottom lip as he breathes heavily against you. He pulls back into a smile, ripping away and leaving blood in both your mouths.

You rush your movements, taking the sight of him in. Those furrowing brows. Those fluttering eyelids. That hanging mouth and rising chin as he feels every bit of bliss from your touch. You swear this breathing halts. He struggles to speak, inevitably licking his lips and forgetting his words. God, how you enjoyed turning this strong man into a puddle! His forehead presses against yours.

Kas' forehead presses against yours lazily. “Fuck, y/n,” he exasperates. You hastily pull away, almost throwing yourself against the wall. He stares back at you with widening eyes. His hands falling from your body just to raise slowly, in case he did something he shouldn't have. But he didn't do anything, it's the name. Your name that has suddenly become unfamiliar. A name to reference a life lived and a life lost. The name of a girl who only knew innocence and barely met love. A girl who died when her soulmate passed away saving the town and avenging the death of a friend.

A girl who no longer exists.

“Just-,” you start, unclear of where the sentence may end. “D-don’t call me that. Not anymore.” His head tilts as he attempts to place a comforting hand at your side, but you push his arm aside, refusing his coddling. His eyes fall again, taking a deep swallow as they do. “What should I call you?” he asks in a whisper.

Your brows pull, tight and furrowed. The question is perplexing. You have just realized that you no longer identify with yourself and now, what? You have to come up with a name? You shake your head, hoping to erase the memories like an etch-n-sketch. “Just keep calling me ‘darlin,’” you whisper. "You're good at that."

Kas hesitantly raises his hand to your cheek. At first, you dodge him with a quivering lip, but he decides to press forward, landing his palm upon your cheek. “Yes, darlin’,” he murmurs as he meets your gaze. He understood what was happening without another word needing to be said. You nod along exhaustingly. Your hand meeting his hip and trailing up towards his neck.

You pull him roughly against your mouth, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. His tongue adamantly slides past your lips as your nails dig into him once again. His hand presses against your hip, pushing you harshly against the wall. You could feel his body tensing atop you. You cannot think of a better place to be.

Both bodies move with grace. Kas lifts you with strong hands at your ass while your leg curls behind his. His cock at your entrance as he slowly lowers your waist onto him. His breath on your face as you mewl from the euphoric sensation. He thrusts firmly, causing gasps to drop from your lips. His girth reaches all your crooks and crannies. He fills you up and you are dying for more.

Your back slides up and down against the wall. Your wet hair snarls together. He buries himself in you. Deep, dark thrusts that make you want to scream with pleasure. He heaves against you, struggling to sustain the kisses on your neck as your tightening walls pull his attention. His hot breath upon your skin leaves you aching, aching for something more. Something you don’t yet know.

“God, fuck,” Kas grumbles against you. His ruts become harder and harder. "You feel so g-good." Your nails dig deeper, ripping up his back without care. Eyes beginning to roll as he quickens. Moans fall from your lips as you press the crown of your head upon the wall. Your neck extends as you do.

A seething breath rips from Kas, halting his movement. He still holds you close against him, tightly wound as he’s stiff within you. “I-I,” he whispers as he pulls from your neck. His eyes turn up to the ceiling as he lets out a shaking exhale. You study him. How his mouth hangs open. How his body stills, tenses, and pulls away.

“No,” you plead as you bring him closer. He keeps his head away, trying so hard to keep his eyes up despite your strong pull. You loosen your grip at his efforts. “Help me understand,” you whisper. “I just need a second,” he answers quickly, finally closing his eyes. He takes another chilling and shaken breath. “It’s hard not to,” he mumbles. “Not to what?” Your eyes seek for the answer.

Kas slowly opens his eyes and leads his gaze towards your neck. He takes a deep breath before shutting his eyes and kissing the exposed, sensitive skin. You understood as soon as you felt his touch. He wants it. He wants you, but not in a way that anyone has wanted you before. “Do it,” you whisper, tilting your head to the right. Not a second thought runs through your mind. He raises from your neck, proud of himself before reacting to your words with worry.

“Come on,” you urge softly. He shakes his head with a stiff lip. Why is he making this harder on you? On him? With a huff, you pull him closer once more. Your hips simultaneously grinding upon him. The friction explodes between you two. You both moan into each other's mouths, dying from absolute pleasure. His eyes shutting tight before roughly opening back to yours. "Tell me what you want," he says sternly. "I want a reason to give it to you so badly."

A gasp escapes you in response to his abrupt demand. It forces you to finally acknowledge the burning desire to be consumed by him in a way that truthfully scares you to your core. “Bite me, Kas.” He stares into you, almost into your soul, to determine whether or not you are serious. And without a second passing, he pulls your hips harshly upon himself. He sends rough and quick thrusts, burying himself within, that roll your eyes to the back of your head.

As soon as your eyelids close, Kas sinks his sharpened teeth into your neck. You let out a gasp filled moan. The pain excruciating but it quickly subsides. You can feel the dense, warm liquid trailing down your chest. He rams harder and harder with each bite. His mouth and tongue delightful against your sensitive skin.

You could not imagine his touch feeling any better and yet the added light headed sensation pushes you closer and closer to exploding and reaching the high you desperately crave. “Oh god,” you choke out as your fingers rake through his hair. Your bodies bounce off of one another. A devilish and wet smacking echoing within the room. The now cold water feeling refreshing.

He pulls up for air, inhaling deeply, as he lays his love drunk eyes upon you. Blood drips from the sides of his mouth and the tip of his nose. It's crimson flows in tandem with the water and spirals its way down the drain. Naturally, you attempt to turn around, trying to offer what you consider is the best of yourself. “No.” He stops you with gentle hands at your waist. “I want to see you. All of you.”

Innocently, Kas brings a thumb to his fang, pricking it ever so lightly. He offers it to you while sustaining slow, powerful ruts that make your knees buckle. You open your mouth without delay. He places the finger at the curl of your tongue. You wrap your lips around him as you suck in his intoxicating blood.

With a hiss, he murmurs, “Take it like a good girl.” He slams his hips against you, and you swear you will have more bruises by the end of this shower. The euphoric feeling drops your head in the clouds, desperate for its never ending status but sadly, your body can only take so much. “Fuck,” you purr. “I’m gonna…”

“Wait, darlin’,” Kas hushes. “Almost - I’m almost…” Thrust. Thrust. Thrust and …. You feel his body tense against you. Incoherent words mumbling out as he curls into you, his head on your neck yet again, but “darlin’” comes out clear as day. You love the idea of his seed within you. The pulsing feeling pushes you to reach your high right alongside him, dissolving into pleasure. It sends shockwaves throughout your body, making you weak as you cling onto him with sinful screams.

Pornographic sounds leave both your lips as you collapse into each other. Both bodies slide down until they fall onto the tub floor. They land where they began, holding each other underneath the streaming water. Heaving breaths escape you both as you lean onto one another for support.

Five minutes. Five minutes have passed. Five minutes have passed and you rest against his chest, lying between his thighs as the water crashes upon you both. At one point, he had placed his still bleeding thumb against your bite marks. They have since healed. The water washing away the evidence. It washes away the transgression.

“Darlin’,” Kas whispers just before kissing your forehead. “I know, we should probably get up,” you mutter. You rest your weight on your hand as you raise from his hold. He watches you with adoration in his eyes. If his pupils could switch shapes, they would be pure hearts. You would be lying if you didn’t think the same of yourself. Something changed here in this shower. What if things go back to normal once you leave?

Kas stands beside you. He places gentle hands at your hips, guiding you up and ensuring you’ve gained your balance. He steps out of the shower, breaking the seal before you could stop him. You watch him with eyes of wonder, waiting for him to revert to the asshole he was.

But he extends his hand to you. You take it curiously. He grabs hold of a hanging towel and wraps it around your shivering body. He rubs his hands up your back, trying to keep you warm. “Thank you,” you say. He smiles as he reaches for the other towel. He wraps it around his waist and quickly returns his hands to your back, rubbing as he does.

“I’m feeling like a nap,” Kas grumbles as he guides you out of the bathroom. You hum in excitement at the idea of sleep. You forgot how much you needed it. The reminder hits you like an 18 wheeler.

Entering the bedroom, you’re reminded of the disastrous sight before you. “I don’t think I can sleep in Reefer Rick’s sheets,” you shudder at the thought. “Hold on,” he says as he determinedly walks to the bed. He rips off the cheetah print and the stained checkered duvet. He drops them onto the ground and begins to dig into the dressers.

“Ahah,” he exclaims as he shakes a roll of burgundy sheets your way. “You get that end?” you suggest with a laugh. He nods and shakes out the fitted sheet. You grab hold of your side, tucking it under the corners of the mattress.

Kas lands atop of the bed in celebration of clean sheets, but immediately begins to roll like a wave. “What the hell?” he mumbles with his arms spread out. You laugh as you land a hand against the bed. “It’s a water bed, Kas,” you giggle. “The fuck?” he asks, struggling to sit up like a cat stuck in water.

You lay down, grabbing the pillows and stripping their sheets. “Can you grab me the pillow covers?” you ask as you point towards the dresser. He nods as he fumbles out of the bed. You burst into laughter watching him drop onto the floor. “I’m good!” He reaches into the drawer and throws the cases your way.

As you switch them out, you peer outside the sliding door to the patio. The purpled, deep mist still thick on the water. “Do you think that fog will ever let up?” you ask as you pat his pillow down. “Let me see,” he says as he struggles to open the door. It clearly hasn’t been used in some time.

Kas walks out, carefully stepping upon the rotten wood. He takes in a deep breath as he looks out into the fog. You stifle your giggle, trying to understand what he was doing. He turns around with absolute confidence, nodding his head hastily. He closes the door and dives back onto the water bed.

You smirk, working on your own pillow case. “Well?” you ask with a chuckle. He peers up at you, his neck all twisted, as he rests on the mattress. “Darlin’, I have no idea.” You laugh alongside him. He reaches for you, guiding you beside him as he rests his head upon your chest. Your fingers naturally run through his hair, tracing little circles on his temple.

“You know, I might just be alright dying here with you in Reefer Rick’s bedroom,” Kas murmurs as he digs deeper into your embrace. “You know, I might not be cool with you dying,” you say with a bit of awe. He smiles, but remains curled against your breast. “I actually want you to stay for a while,” you mutter under your breath. Embarrassment fills your cheeks with hot red. His hand tucks underneath your hip, pulling you closer. “Always,” he replies.

You fall asleep, tight within his arms. His light snoring is music to your ears. His warmth and weight on your chest is the best weighted blanket you could ask for. Sleep with Kas is easy. You feel safe with him by your side.

A series of crescendoing knocks echoes from downstairs.

You jump at the sound, instantly putting Kas in defensive mode. Both of you startled from your 45-minute sleep. "Did someone see us?" you ask with panic in your voice. The words come out automatically. His eyes squint with furrowing brows. He slowly shakes his head as he pushes up from the mattress. "I don't think so," he whispers as he makes his way to the dresser one again. His hands plunge into the drawer until they find a pair of black cotton shorts, something Eddie would never wear. He slugs them on before walking out the door with determination.

You rest hiding in your sheets, wondering if you should stand. A few silent seconds pass and you roll yourself off the water bed. You look into the still opened drawer. You can see where his hand brushed through all the rolled clothing, unfolding it. A large graphic tee decorated by MTV's logo catches your eye. It flows over your head and shoulders without difficulty. You have grown quite fond of oversized shirts in the last few weeks.

As you raise a pair of jeans atop your hips to see if they would fit, you hear a loud bang downstairs. Your heart drops as your palms grow sweaty. You were halfway down the staircase before you realized you were running. The noises never stopped. It sounded muffled, like items being tossed to the ground. You didn't start rushing until you heard glass crash.

The sight before you left your body frozen. Kas had someone pinned against the wall. His palms pressed heavily against the intruder's inner wrists. Glass shards are trickled throughout the carpet. The living room was quite the mess before, the only difference being the now escalating altercation in its midst.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Kas yells. He raises the intruder's arm just to slam it back against the wall. You could barely see the person beneath him, but you try your best to grab a glimpse. "I-I-I," you hear stuttering falling from the smaller individual. Your hands' grip tightens against the banister.

Kas growls aloud as he pulls against the person's arm and drops them onto the floor behind him. He slowly turns around with a stone cold face you only recognize from the night prior. His eyes red, red once again, as he yells down at the intruder. "Tell me!" He gradually lands onto a knee beside the person's waist. His tightening knuckles gripping harshly at his collar.

Your eyes drop to the, now identifiable, boy as Kas straddles him. The curly brunette hair almost matched Kas', just a shade lighter. He is smaller, much smaller in stature and overall size. He cries, begging for him to stop. You hate yourself for not rushing to his aid but you are glued to the steps. Your body does not even give you the option.

As his head fell back onto the burnt orange carpet, the boy's baseball cap drops on the floor. You find yourself entranced by it, by its color. Kas lands a hard punch against his cheek when you finally make your way onto the carpet. You feel as though you were in a trance, as though the violence before you was just a blur in the background. All you wanted was to hold that cap, to take a better look. There was something about it. Something you didn't understand. Something that drew you to it.

You bend down to reach for it. The boy raises his hands, begging Kas to stop, but another punch lands against his face. The cap's hard visor rests between your two fingers. It's bright turquoise blue eerily familiar. As you turn it your way, you read "Thinking Cap" aloud. Finally, it makes sense and the whole world returns to its high definition.

Your raising eyes land upon Dustin Henderson and his bleeding, bruised face. Kas pulls him up by his collar just to plunge his sharp fangs into his neck. "Stop!" you scream as you lunge towards Kas. Your hands press harshly against his chest, pushing him off Dustin's body. Dustin gasps as he quickly applies pressure upon his wound. He inches away, fueled by adrenaline, but is still too weak to crawl.

As he stumbles back, Kas' eyes look through you. There was no emotion. No recognition. He was purely in a kill mode and nothing will pull him out of it. He reaches for Dustin once again, but you step in his way. "Stop," you lead. Your hands slowly raising. "We can talk about this." His gaze is stuck upon the cowering body behind you. "Do you know who that is?" he asks with a chilling tone.

You are forced to remember the stories of Dustin's betrayal. You try your best to keep in mind that you may not have had a reliable source, but those stories still make you sick to your stomach. "I know," you whisper under your breath. Kas scoffs, taking a step forward. "Then there's nothing to talk about."

You place your hand upon his chest - a simple gesture that you hope he will respect. He turns to look at you, this time with a look of disgust. Those red eyes pulling him further and further from the Kas that you have come to know. "Move," he demands with a chilling, deep voice. Your eyes begin to well as fear strikes your chest. Despite stifling your sobs, you shake your head in refusal. He pulls his eyes from you, scoffing as he peers down at Dustin.

With an abrupt movement, Kas pushes you out of the way with his hand. Your body crashes harshly against the glass display, cracking it behind you. You fall to your hands and knees against the shards thick within the carpet's fabric. Your blood rushing between your fingers. A whimper escapes you as you pull out the biggest pieces, but all you can hear is Dustin's breathless pleads. "Stop, Eddie, this isn't you." His voice quivers, terrified by the bloodied, murderous sight before him.

You wince at the sound of his name, knowing it would just cause more pain. Kas winds up a kick before digging it into Dustin's ribcage. An animalistic yell falling from his lips. You can hear sobs as the boy crumbles into himself. "Please," he whispers. The words almost as painful as the microscopic shards in your palm.

Despite the glass, you pick yourself up. Harsh exhales as you push off the ground. You know this isn’t Kas. Not the man who held you in the rolling hills, and certainly not the man who you’ve come to care for. No, this is a boy who only knows pain, loneliness, and abandonment. The boy with red eyes, who only comes out when brutally faced with memories of the past.

Your body moves independently, no longer connected with your consciousness. There is no guilt or second guessing. You need to protect Dustin, not for him or Kas, but for Eddie. You do this for Eddie Munson.

Your fingers wrap around a lamp post resting on a side table beside the filthy couch. You yank it from its place, pulling out its plug recklessly. With a single swing, you crash the lamp against the base of Kas’ spine. He falls down immediately, knocked out. His face flat and smushed against the floor across from Dustin’s. You still see his chest rising and falling. You hate the relief you feel from the sight.

“Dustin,” you whisper as you fall on your knees beside him. He is hurt, badly. You rush to apply pressure against the bite. You can feel his pulse beneath your finger tips. It’s strong. It gives you hope. He grumbles as you tilt him onto his back. “Dustin,” you plead. “Talk to me.” He lets out another sob, one that shakes you to your core. He turns back onto his side, reaching out for Kas’ unconscious body. “Eddie,” he cries softly.

You are hit like a tidal wave filled with emotions. Dustin’s cries have mirrored your own. You are terrified to think of what he will soon learn. How reality will hit him - hit him harder than Kas did.

“He’s okay,” you soothe. Your worried eyes peer back at Kas. His hair thrush against his face. His arms cross upon his chest as he sleeps off the hit. “Y/n?” he asks through sobs. His eye quickly swelling, only leaving him with his right. You take a deep breath, trying to stay in the moment with him.

“Yeah,” you let out with an exhale. In this context, your name feels right. "You found him," Dustin whispers with a hint of a bloodied smile. A breathy chuckle falls between you both. "He found me," you utter. His hand weakly falls from his neck. "He always said he would..." he trails off.

You drop your eyes to your hands. The pressure isn’t enough. It wasn't enough with his hand. You needed more, more than this. You can’t split your attention. He needs help. “Dustin, I need you to keep your hand right here,” you say, grabbing his hand and placing it firmly on his neck. He struggles to remain conscious but manages to keep pressure where needed.

Quickly, you crawl over to Kas. You carefully raise his head and place it within your lap. “Kas,” you whisper as your hand taps against his cheek. Your fingers push back strands of dark locks from his face. “Kas, you gotta wake up.” Another tap and his eyelids lightly flutter. Excitement and relief pour over you as you look back at Dustin. You just might be able to save him.

His lazy eyes open and land upon your face. His chocolate irises warm your soul. A small smile appears on those delicate lips. The man you know is back. You hold your hand to his cheek, leaning down towards him with your own beaming grin. “Hey darlin’,” he whispers but winces at the sudden pain on the base of his skull. “Hi Kas,” you murmur.

Kas’ eyes light up at the sound of your voice. Slowly, you watch his memory return. A twitch of his brow and his breathing increases. He attempts to sit up but you hold him down with a hand to his chest. “Kas,” you say softly. “I need you to trust me. Can you do that?” You can feel his heart racing beneath your palm. His jaw clenches as he slowly nods.

You smile, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Dustin,” you say but he immediately pushes against your hand. With a quick inhale, you continue, “Dustin is here. I know what he did to you,” you whisper. “But we need answers. We need to know his side of things.” The reality is that Kas only knows what Vecna told him, as far as you know, and you both have already caught the skinless fuck in a lie. You need to know exactly what happened to Eddie. You deserve to know.

Kas takes in sharp breaths through his nostrils. You try to calm him by brushing your hand through his curls. “What do you need me to do?” he asks reluctantly. He struggles to hold on to his anger when you provide him with the comfort and love he has been craving since he woke up in this hellhole. “Give him your blood, like you did for me.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he pushes up from the ground. He sits up beside you, keeping his eyes upon yours. “If he’s anything like you, he’s going to pass out for days with how much he needs,” he mutters with annoyance. “Good,” you offer. “It’ll give us some time to talk.”

He shakes his head as he finally pulls from your gaze. He bites into his wrist as though he was being asked to complete the biggest chore. He quickly grabs your palms and squeezes his hand into a fist above them. Drops fall and you whisper your gratitude while spreading the blood upon your cuts. He then crawls over to press his inner arm against Dustin’s mouth. As soon as blood touches his tongue, Dustin begins to reach for Kas. He holds his arm tight at his mouth, sucking more and more.

Kas finally rips his arm from Dustin’s grasp. His limp body falls backwards without another word said. Kas stands and walks up the stairs without looking back towards you. You rush to the boy’s side, quickly checking his neck. It had already healed over. The swollen eye slowly returns to its normal state. He finally looks like the boy you always saw seated beside Eddie at the Hellfire table.

With a smile, you reach onto the couch to retrieve a pillow and blanket. You place it under Dustin’s head and carefully tuck his body in. You are too scared to move him, but thankful he fell far from the glass. He needs rest to recover. You just wish that Kas’ blood healed mental wounds too.

You rush upstairs, wanting nothing more than to talk to Kas. You are worried, concerned. There is like a flick to him, some switch that gets triggered any time he is met with someone from Eddie’s past. When those red eyes appear, you have learned that Eddie nor Kas is present. It's a trauma response, a different personality - you don’t know. You just know that the man with red eyes is dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.

As you walk into the bedroom’s doorway, you find Kas staring out into the mist again. You stand beside him, just before the sliding door. Your arms crossed over your chest. “He’s alive,” he mutters. You nod, knowing better than to try to make eye contact with him right now. “Thank you.”

He turns to you. You immediately note the tears in his eyes. “I saved him for you,” he whispers. You give him a reassuring nod, placing your palm at his cheek. “I know, Kas. Thank you.” He leans into your palm with brows furrowed. “You know what he did to me,” he painfully whispers as his eyes fall. “He left you,” you answer, raising his face back towards you. “But why? We don’t know why.”

Kas pulls away, rushing back to his side of the bed. “Why should I care?” he yells. You follow behind him but continue to respect his space. “Because you don't know the whole story. That asshole might've spun you a bullshit tale, telling you he left you on purpose,” you start. He shakes his head, whispering “no” on repeat as he paces in the room. “What if he had to leave?" You brush a hand through your hair. You truly hope that the reasoning falls along those lines or else you might actually be an accessory to murder.

"You don't remember anything?” you ask with sincerity. “I don’t remember!” he yells as he kicks the dresser. The wood snaps and breaks into shrapnel across the floor. You gasp at the sound, covering your mouth with your hand, but slowly you lower it. His face is pained. His fingers tapping against his head as his mental state crumbles before you. It hurts to see him like this.

“Okay, okay,” you murmur. You slowly approach his pacing rhythm. Your moves are hesitant and careful, knowing that any wrong touch could trigger his upset. Only a step away and you can feel the heat resonating off of his skin. He whispers to himself as his fingers tug onto the roots of his hair.

Your hand reaches for his bicep. Slowly, desperately slow as you trail your palm up to the back of his neck. You guide his forehead to your chest as you wrap your arms around him. His hands crash around your waist as he falls into your embrace. “I don’t want to remember,” he whispers against you.

Your hand pushes through Kas’ hair, shushing him as he cries soft sobs into your chest. You take a quick breath and clear your throat, trying to gather your thoughts through these intense emotions. “You don’t have to remember, baby,” you soothe. “You don’t have to remember. It's going to be okay."

You guide his head away from you so that you can hold his gaze. His eyes red and swollen from crying. You brush his tears away with your thumb. “You are safe. Here with me," you start. "But you have to let go of that anger and think for yourself.” He pulls away from you, sniffling as he does. “You almost killed him and you don’t even know why, Kas,” you plead. He throws his hand up, scoffing. "I've killed worse for less."

You aren't sure if he intended to upset or shock you with this statement. Regardless, you have decided to no longer accept the dangerous and disastrous emotions that a skinless chicken, Vecna, has decided for Kas. If he doesn't want to remember, that's his choice but he certainly doesn't get to act based off of emotions that a psychopath thinks he should have.

You grab his hand and pull him to a sit on the mattress. You recognize how lucky you are that he’s even allowing you to touch him, but you move confident and unbothered. “I understand not wanting to remember the bad stuff, trust me,” you mutter. “And that kid… if his actions lead to him not coming home, I-I would have no issues leaving him alone with you down there, but the fact is, he mattered.” You point to the boy through the floorboards, seething with your tears. “He mattered to Eddie and that is why we need to hear his side of things.”

As soon as you say his name, Kas’ head perks up again. His face turns into that familiar disgust as his lips pull and he begins a low growl. “Oh, don't start with that shit," you spit out. "Eddie talked about that boy like he was his fucking prodigy! He mattered.” He rolls his eyes, sucking his tongue against his teeth. “Why should I care who mattered to him?” he asks with revulsion.

“You care about me, don’t you?” you yell out hastily. You are caught off guard with the amount of vulnerability you threw to the wind. You accidentally put yourself in harm’s way, leaving yourself open for an attack. In this, you recognize that Kas can hurt you. He has the ability to hurt you to your core, something you did not expect or could have wanted. You are terrified of this situation, knowing how careless he truly could be with your heart. He could simply say "no" and your whole world would crumble.

Kas’ finger makes its way to your chin, raising it to his eye line. “Of course I care about you,” he murmurs. A twitch of a smile escapes you. You push away your happiness to finish your point, dropping the smile as quickly as it appeared. “Dustin mattered. Eddie wouldn't just care like that about anyone,” you say. “The why matters to me too.”

He takes in a breath, unintentionally pulling back and placing distance between you two. He slowly nods, showing his understanding. He may not like it, but he understands. It is just like that moment, when he could have let Vecna kill you. Eddie saved you that night, not Kas, and yet you'll never know.

“What do you need me to do?” Kas asks as he reaches for your hand. You gladly intertwine your fingers and bring both hands to your chest. “Let him tell his side. No more fighting. Just talking,” you plead. Your brows raise as you beg him to accept. He nods again, still not happy about the situation. “We’ll listen, and then I'll decide what to do with him,” he mutters. He pulls back his hand and stands, making his way to the door's threshold.

You turn, calling him back to you. “Kas.” Both your eyes meet in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. He leans against the doorframe. His body still and gorgeous. God, you wish you could take a picture of this moment. A keepsake to always remember his beauty. “I care about you too. You matter to me. I need you to know that,” you state plainly.

Kas pushes off the doorframe to walk your way. His hands are tangled in your hair before you feel him crash against your lips. A kiss so passionate you feel lightheaded, as if you could see the stars through the ceiling. He pulls away at just the right moment, leaving you dying for more, whimpering for his return. His lips only inches away when he whispers, “I love you too” just before walking out of the room.

As soon as he leaves, your eyes widen to an unmeasurable size. He loves you too? Your heart stills at the thought of him loving you. A hopeful feeling that raises your chest, but also makes you forget to breathe. It is a complicated feeling, but you wouldn't trade it for the world. Although, it's nothing compared to the panic you feel when you attempt to analyze the "too" part. Does he think you were telling him that you loved him? No, you were just telling him that you cared - that he meant something to you. Fuck, what if he's right. What if there is a "too?"

You quickly stand, shaking your head. A simple "nope" falls from your lips as you steadily make your way out the bedroom. This is not the time, nor the place to analyze your feelings. You make your way down the stairs with wide opened ears. Silence. You peer around the bannister and note that Kas sits upon the couch facing Dustin's unconscious body. He stares, not a blink to be seen.

Breaking his gaze, you purposefully walk before him while on your way to the kitchen. You happily feel his eyes upon you as you open one of the cabinets. Food will probably be difficult to find, but maybe you could find something edible. You reach up on your tippy toes to see the top shelf, fully aware that your oversized shirt raises up to your waist and exposes your panties. As you land back onto your heels, you look over your shoulder to catch his adoration. He coughs and quickly turns back to Dustin. You giggle, shaking your head.

Making your way to the fridge, you finally land upon an incomplete pack of Eddie's favorite brand of beer. Despite your crouch, you drop your head and take a deep breath. Tears well in your eyes but you blink, hoping they will disappear. With a deep breath, you stop to appreciate the sight. Eddie was here. He touched these beers and he touched this very fridge. "I miss you," you whisper to yourself. "Things may look a little weird from where you are, but I'm still crazy about you, baby. I will see you again."

With a sniffle, you reach for two bottles of beer - leaving three left for Eddie to finish somehow. You stand, slowly closing the door as you take slow inhales. You walk back towards the living room with both beers hanging between your fingers. Kas' eyes light up, a smile shortly follows. You sway the bottles, dancing as you do. "Oh yeah, darlin'," he encourages with a clap and a seated dance himself.

You hand him one, crashing beside him on the couch. Almost habitual, his hand reaches for your beer. He twists off the cap just as Eddie used to and hands it back to you. You take a sip without a second thought. He kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, leaning back into the cushions. His arm wraps around your shoulders as you burrow into his chest.

As your eyes land upon the black screen of the TV, just beside Dustin's sleeping body, you hum to yourself. "Wanna see what's on?" you ask, peering up at him. Kas shrugs while taking another sip. You reach for the remote on the table and click the on button. Two men appear on the screen wearing white opened suits and brightly covered undershirts. "Oh, Miami Vice," you call out. "Have you seen it before?"

When you turn back to him, his chin is tucked within his neck. He watches the two men in disgust as he takes a swig of his beer. You laugh uncontrollably at the sight, landing a hand at his chest. "They look like douches, but they're pretty cool - fighting crime and shit," you share. "Let's watch five minutes of it and if you don't like it, we can change the channel?" He huffs, nodding at the idea. "I'll be counting down the minutes," he mutters.

And there you two sit for the next fourteen hours watching Miami Vice. Kas is completely invested in Detective Crockett and Tubb's storyline. He almost didn't want to leave to get food with you, but he managed to pull away from the TV to hide in the shadows while you were in the store and walk you back to Rick's. You decided to clean up the shards, which then turned into the entire living room, during a few commercial breaks. However around hour ten, you struggled to keep your eyes open and fell asleep on Kas' chest. It didn't help that he was running his fingers through your hair as you cuddled upon his spider tattoo.

Dustin still sleeps soundlessly upon the ground, tucked in his blanket and pillow. Kas has steadily relaxed within his presence. You have even caught a small smile when Dustin stretches out within his slumber. The world finally seems alright. You are beyond thankful for this quick break from your new reality. This is the only pure happy thing that has happened since Eddie passed. You will enjoy every second.

note: what'd you think? what's gonna happen next? are they in love, or are they just stuck in some twisted vecna love triangle? is kas eddie or is eddie kas? and who's this red eyed demon and how do we feel about 'em? sooooo many questions & more parts to come...

next part • the spider queen •

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• nav • no-no plagiarism • series • requests open •

[buckttommy]

i think eddie's gaircut (gay haircut) should make a comeback in season 6. i mean they've been giving buck the same hair for like 3 seasons why can't they just make this eddie's Signature Gook (gay look)

[gayfortallmen]

i want to dress eddie munson up all pretty and tell him how cute he looks. he is my babygirl

[iseathegalaxy]

the utter lack of reaction from everyone to eddie's death has me feeling murderous so it better be because he's pulling a hopper in s5 or sth cause if not it is all just disrespectful and honestly so fucking sad