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vampire-exgirlfriend · 2 years

Text

Morningstar

Pairing: vampire!Eddie Munson x femreader

Rating: E

Words: 6k

Warnings: mention of a dead body, blood, angst, hurt/comfort, smut (unprotected, blood play).

A/N: if you know @magpie-to-the-morning or myself, you know that we are both weird girls who thrive on all things dark and spooky. So when we started hearing vampire Eddie theories floating around (yes, Emma saw it coming before the rest of us), we had to team up and bring our baby boy back (finale? what finale?). And in doing so we learned how well we work together, how we compliment each other and somehow share a weird gothy love language.

Morningstar is a fic for our fellow weird girls, our fellow outcasts. It's a love letter to them, and to Eddie Munson, who deserves the same care and protection he showed the little lost sheepies.

Beta'd by @jadore-andor without whom Alex is nothing and for whom Emma is eternally grateful.

alex masterlist | emma masterlist | ao3

Part One - A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night | Part Two | Part Three

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Your friend bit her lip, eyeing the darkness beyond her trailer’s porchlight as if its lengthening shadows would reach out and snatch you right off the concrete steps. “Hawkins is… different, since you left. It’s been worse since the earthquake.” She sounded nervous, enough so that goosebumps pebbled over the skin of your arms.

Still, you weren’t one to be daunted by the creeping feeling of dread that seemed to have gained a chokehold on your hometown.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, you know me. I like different.” You flashed her a reassuring grin and, with a wave, set out for the dirt track leading through the woods. You’d walked home this way dozens of times, hundreds - just not since you went away to college last fall. It’s what had kept you insulated from the bizarre rumors flying around town - lab experiments gone wrong, monsters on the loose, satanic cults. Even the very real and tragic deaths didn’t ring true, and you’d flat out laughed at the idea of Eddie Munson being some sort of serial killer. It was the same small town ignorance you’d fled back in September, the same gossip and petty-mindedness, albeit on a scale that had everyone feeling tense enough to snap.

It was a relief to be away from that feeling, surrounded by the familiar trees that had been the background of your dizzy daydreams as a child. Out here you had felt safe fantasizing about the things that went bump in the night without fear of what your peers would think, how they might judge you for your darker interests. Here in the woods, there was ample space to imagine werewolves and witches and vampires, and where you might fit among them. Even as you got older and your daydreams changed, it was your favorite place to lose a few hours, your headphones firmly over your ears as you sprawled on a blanket to write in your journal.

A cool breeze murmured through the branches overhead and spring peepers trilled in the distance, their nighttime chorus punctuated by the plaintive calls of nightbirds. You took a deep breath, savoring the peace, as you made your way through the woods. As you walked, you debated whether you wanted a night alone or if you would rather call Robin and finally give in to her pleas of spending an evening with her and Steve Harrington - a pair you could still hardly imagine actually hanging out together. But she swore he was cool and no longer the douchey jock you remembered before you left for college.

You were lost in your own thoughts, not noticing when the birds fell silent. Something tugged at the back of your mind when even the frogs stopped calling, but you were too busy ruminating over the empty months ahead to notice the shift in the air, the pervading sense of wrongness creeping up on you now that the sky had turned black.

Until you nearly tripped over the bodies…

The toe of your boot hit something solid, shocking you to a stop. You had assumed it was a mass of leaves, a random pile left behind by some kids. But that…that was hair, dark and ashy. And that was a hand, outstretched and pale as bone in the moonlight. Your stomach rolled, your hand covering your mouth to hold back the bile that rose in your throat. It smelled like death, you realized, like blood and sickly sweet rot. But then there was movement, just a shifting beneath the dirt that sent the leaves scattering, and from the lump of foliage, Eddie Munson looked up at you, his eyes black in the night. Andy, that creep, with his stupid curly hair and letterman jacket, lay motionless beneath Eddie, his fingers clawing into the dirt even in death.

Andy was dead. The thought slammed through your mind but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad about it, not even as you gazed into his lifeless face, his eyes dull as they stared into nothingness. No, you didn’t feel bad, not after what he had tried to do last summer.

Eddie groaned and it stirred something in you, snapping your awareness back into place. You dropped beside him, hands hovering over his hair, hair face, his chest. There was blood, too much blood, smeared across his mouth and jaw and you had no idea who it belonged to - him or Andy. You knew how it looked, how freakish and fantastical, and your mind began to scream one impossible word.

Vampire.

"Hey Munson," you breathed, pushing away the ridiculous thought. "Remember me?" You asked softly, brushing the hair from his eyes. He mumbled your name, recognition flashing across his glassy eyes, the syllables garbled as he coughed and more blood splattered over his face, little freckles of red scattered now over your neck and cheeks. "That's right." You tried to smile, tried to shove down the feeling of wrongness, of fear, that pricked up your spine. Your hands skated over his chest, fingertips softly probing for wounds. You had to get him out of there, had to get him help. He was freezing, too cold for the warmth of spring, and goosebumps again erupted over your arms.

Eddie’s fingers closed like a vise around your wrist, his rings biting into the bone, and you winced at the sudden display of strength, the cold power that snapped like a taut bowstring, thrumming through his touch. He whimpered then, a small pathetic sound that tugged at something in your lower belly.

You leaned in closer, concern creasing your brow, and startled when his grasp tightened even further, pulling you off balance and down into the leaf litter beside him.

“Eddie, what - “

He pressed against you and the words died in your throat. Your back was braced against something solid, your fingers scrabbling against the fake leather of Andy's letterman jacket. Dread clogged your throat when you realized exactly where you were, trapped between a dead man and the the most likely suspect for his murder. But this was Eddie. He couldn't be responsible for whatever had happened here. The Eddie you remembered was kind, if a little eccentric; all throughout highschool he'd always spared you a smile and because of it you had harbored a silly crush. His disdain for the "popular" kids was no secret, but he'd treated everyone else with basic kindness.

“I don’t even remember doing it,” Eddie murmured close to your ear. His voice was weak, shaken, a far cry from his usual boisterous nature. He sounded scared. Lost. “He found me in the woods, right after… I didn’t mean to.”

His eyes were pleading. For understanding? Forgiveness? Maybe just for you not to scramble up and run as far away as you could, leaving him bloody and alone. You reached out to stroke the lines of his cheek with trembling fingers. “Didn’t mean to do what, Eddie?”

Your voice shook as his cool breath fanned across your jaw, as he dragged himself over you and settled his weight on top of you. Your head spun, pulled in too many directions. How many times had you imagined this back in highschool? How many times had you thought about being brave and telling him that he was the best thing about Hawkins, aside from Robin, that thoughts of him had kept you up at night?

Again that sense of utter wrongness settled over you and the apprehension had you feeling skittish. His hair tickled your face as the wind shifted and you felt him go rigid above you, his hands gripping hard at your thighs as he fought to hold still. “To be a monster.”

You pulled back to look at him, brushing the hair from his face, hands cradling his jaw. “Eddie, you are not a monster, okay? Whatever happened here, we can figure it out. But you are not a monster.” Were you crazy for thinking so? Probably. But what you knew about Eddie Munson, romanticized schoolgirl fantasies or not, led you to truly believe that he was in no way some kind of beast.

“Then why do I feel like this?” Gone was the warm, familiar brown of his eyes, swallowed up by so much black. His gaze was locked on your mouth, darting between your lips and your throat, and when he spoke you saw the pointed tips of his canines, elongated in the light of the moon, and again your brain blared a single word at you.

Vampire.

Pulling in a trembling breath, your chest brushed his. You felt the air go still, the tension between you snapping. “I’m sorry,” he said with a whimper and then his mouth was at your neck, pain blooming hot and sudden. You shrieked, slapping at his shoulders and digging your heels into the soft ground, trying desperately to put distance between you. He snarled, the sound closer to something an animal would make and you realized that in this moment he might as well be a predator defending his kill.

Slowly, and then all at once, the agony shifted, becoming softer and melting into something decadent. There was a soft pulling sensation and the rasp of his tongue over your sensitive skin had you arching beneath him, all thoughts of escape floating from your mind. One of his hands dragged up your thigh and over the cage of your ribs to hold you still, the other moved your leg so he could settle more comfortably between your thighs. The world took on a dreamy sort of quality, delicate around the edges as everything began to go quiet. All you felt was Eddie’s mouth, his large hands, the way he began to grow hard against your center. The artfully ripped tights you wore beneath your skirt were hardly a barrier and you couldn’t help but roll your hips against him, moaning softly at the way he thrust forward in slow, dragging movements.

Sensation pulled at you, tendrils of want tugging you deeper into that waiting darkness. Your mind went deliciously blank, everything fading but the stroke of his tongue that matched the heartbeat between your legs. You found yourself all too eager to let go, to succumb to whatever it was that had you forgetting yourself, your nerves and better judgement. You could lie there for hours, all night, forever, but some lingering spark of self preservation flared within the darkening recesses of your mind.

“Eddie.” It was a feeble protest, barely audible over the sound of the wind caressing the leaves or his contented growls at your throat. “Eddie, stop. Not here.” When he didn’t respond you pulled yourself together as best you could and reached down, pinching the meat of his thigh. He yelped, the sound so out of place that a startled laugh burst from your throat, an almost hysterical sound. When he pulled away the moonlight caught in the fresh blood smeared across his mouth and jaw - your blood. The thought was staggering and for a moment you felt even more lightheaded, the trees above swaying as you sagged back against Andy.

Andy!

You shoved away from his body, untangling yourself from Eddie and shooting to your feet. Reaching up, you touched your neck gingerly. Your fingers came away red, shining, and you lurched forward. Eddie shoved himself from the ground, his hands coming to steady you, gripping your elbows gently. He glanced down at Andy, too many emotions flashing across his dark eyes to name. You turned, placing your body between them and retreating until your back rested against Eddie’s chest. Cocking your head, you surveyed the area, taking in the details you had missed earlier.

“Animal,” you said as it all clicked in your mind, the solution fitting together like puzzle pieces.

“What?” His voice was hoarse, raw.

“It looks like an animal got him,” you elaborated and felt Eddie go tense behind you. “Hey.” You turned and took his hand. It was cold against your palm and you could feel his hesitation as you brushed your thumb across the delicate skin. “Munson, look at me.”

With a shudder, Eddie lifted his gaze to meet yours, his head ducked and his body tensed as if to run.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I know you. And you’re not an animal, or a monster, or whatever else this bullshit town has been claiming. Even with all of… this.” You kicked some leaves over Andy’s body and turned back to Eddie. “We can figure this out. Will you let me help you?”

When he finally nodded, you twined your fingers with his and tugged gently. “Come on, then. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

You led Eddie to your parents’ house, relieved that they’d chosen this week to take the cruise your mom had always droned on about. Even with having the whole basement recently converted into an apartment for you, bringing a wanted fugitive home would have invited all sorts of questions you weren’t sure you had the answers to.

Eddie looked even more lost inside, his hair tangled and torn, bloody, mud-streaked clothing jarring against the respectable wallpaper and aggressive cleanliness of your parents’ home. He startled when you opened the basement door and a shadow streaked through it, racing toward the two of you.

“It’s okay, it’s just my cat.”

The little black creature in question trotted into the light with an inquisitive “mrrp” and wound around your legs.

Eddie relaxed beside you. After a moment he crouched down and held his fingers out for the cat to sniff. “What’s his name?”

“Jonathan Barker.” When Eddie stared incredulously up at you you shrugged. “I was on a horror classics kick.”

“But Barker? I uh, don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s a cat.”

“What’s your point?”

“… Fair enough.” He chuckled, a little faintly, but amused all the same. Your heart lifted at the sheer familiarity of the sound. Jonathan Barker rubbed his cheek against the ripped denim at Eddie’s knee but darted away when Eddie reached to pet him. “Fine,” Eddie scoffed, unconvincingly. “I’m more of a dog person anyway.”

“Be nice, he’s had a hard life. I found him by the side of the road when he was a kitten and he’s always been a little skittish.” Jonathan Barker stared at Eddie with wide eyes from his perch on the back of the couch, as if agreeing with you.

Eddie fell quiet again as you led him down the creaking stairs and into your basement apartment. It was easier to breathe there, surrounded by battered pieces of mismatched yet comfortable furniture, Joy Division and Patti Smith posters, stacks of well-thumbed paperback books, milk crates full of albums and cassettes, and houseplants crowding every window well. The conversion had been your parents’ condition when you’d told them you needed some time off school. Your mother had already turned your room into a home gym and “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable down there, dear? You’ll have more room for all your… interests.”

Part of you suspected they were a little relieved to have you neatly tucked out of sight.

You moved towards the small kitchen area with the vague idea of making tea on the little hot plate. Having a task to focus on kept your mind from racing about what on earth you and Eddie were going to do next. You busied yourself with the familiar ritual for the next few minutes, giving both of you time to think. By the time you set a steaming ceramic mug in front of Eddie, his expression was less wild, his frame less taut with that kinetic, restless energy. He wrapped his hands around the mug’s warmth and didn’t quite meet your eyes as he asked “So, what happens now?” He took an experimental sip but pulled a face. At the flavor, you wondered? Or his attempt to get something other than blood into his system?

“Well, we should probably get you cleaned up,” you said softly, taking in the shadows beneath his eyes, the blood crusted across his face and neck. Dirt clung to him like a second skin and you could see how uncomfortable he was beneath the grime. You abandoned your mug on the counter, pushing off and walking across the room toward the closet by the bathroom and pulled down a few fluffy towels. Eddie’s shuffling footsteps followed you into the little room, and he stopped in the doorway while you turned the hot water knob. You moved to face him, finding him staring straight ahead, his brows bunched in confusion. Turning, you tracked his line of sight toward the mirror, his dirty image reflected back.

“I wasn’t sure I would actually show up,” he mumbled, reaching up and dragging his fingers over his cheek.

“Silver,” you said, watching him watch you.

“What?”

You shrugged. “Mirrors used to be backed in silver and the myth goes that silver is detrimental to…,” you paused as his eyes narrowed and waved your hands to dispel the building tension. “Well, you know. You’ll show up in pictures too,” you chirped, hoping to lighten the mood.

“How did you become the vampire expert?” A heavy brow rose and you fought the urge to fold your shoulders, to make yourself smaller under his gaze.

“I read a lot,” you snapped, suddenly defensive. After a long moment he nodded, shrugging off his vest. You startled when it hit the ground, heavy pins clattering against the tile, and turned to leave. His cold fingers wrapped tight around your wrist, stopping you from sliding past him.

Again, his eyes were pleading, soft and dark and lovely. “Stay,” he asked, “please.”

You thought the rapidfire emotional changes would give you whiplash, but you nodded, exhaling sharply, and reached for the hem of his shirt. He raised his arms and you pulled it over his head, dropping it to lie with his vest. Angry marks were scattered across his torso, red and welted and poorly healed. A gasp escaped your mouth as you took it in, reaching forward and gingerly trailing your fingers over the wounds. “Eddie, what happened to you?” Your voice was hushed, quiet as the steam from the shower began to cloud in the small space.

“It’s all a little blurry,” he murmured, his hands going for the buckle of his belt. He unclasped the mini handcuffs that held it together, deft fingers quickly working open the button of his jeans. Your eyes snapped back to his and you found him watching you hungrily. A chill danced up your spine at the sight, a mix of cold fear and delicious anticipation. You realized he was trying to distract you, obviously not wanting to answer the question. So you let him.

He side stepped you and you turned, not looking away and letting him press you against the door. The small of your back hit the wood and he kept coming, cocking his head as he crowded into your space. Reaching out, you rested your hands against his chest, your eyes going wide when you registered that there was no heartbeat against your palm. Eddie didn’t seem to notice as he leaned forward, a smug grin stretched across his mouth.

You wanted this. And it was obvious that he wanted it too, but it was almost too much right now and your head was spinning. “Give me your rings,” you murmured hurriedly, grasping for an excuse to take a moment and collect your thoughts. You tugged your lip between your teeth and he quirked a brow at you. “I’ll get them cleaned up for you.” His smirk softened into a smile and he stepped back, pulling them off one by one. The silver had burned him, leaving behind painful looking bruises and charred skin. You refused to react, knowing that he wouldn’t want your pity, and held out your hand for him to drop them into. They clinked together as you caught them and you pushed him lightly toward the shower. Eddie turned, dropping his pants and you couldn’t help but glance at his ass as he pulled back the curtain and stepped into the tub.

Gathering his filthy clothes, you pulled the door closed softly and padded back into the living room to toss his things into the washing machine, carefully undoing the clasps of his pins and setting them aside for safe-keeping. You set it to start before heading to the sink to get Eddie’s rings cleaned up. Soap, water, and some scrubbing had them shining again and you avoided thinking too hard about the fact that you were scrubbing human flesh from the metal. When you had finished, you flopped onto the couch and reached for the clear coat nail polish you kept on the side table next to your favorite bottle of black. You painted the clear gel over the silver, hoping it would form enough of a barrier to keep them from burning him again. His rings were as much a part of his persona as his vest and his wild halo of hair, and more than anything right now, he needed something comfortable and familiar.

To be fair, so did you. Once the rings were safely coated in a protective layer of nail polish and drying on your coffee table, you rose, stretched, and padded over to your dresser, opening the second drawer and pulling out a baggy t-shirt. You stripped, leaving your dirty clothes in a pile, and pulled the worn fabric over your head before heading for your record player. Soon, the driving synthetic beat and rough-edged vocals of the Psychedelic Furs drifted through the space.

“Forever Now? I guess that’s fitting.”

You whirled around, surprised to see Eddie leaning against the door jam, a towel around his waist and his arms wrapped around himself. Dark tendrils of hair framed his face in damp curls and his skin was scrubbed an angry pink, but he looked somewhat more settled, his brown eyes clearer.

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Oh, I’m just full of surprises now.” He lifted his brows in a sarcastic show of being impressed with his own new abilities, even as he wrapped his arms more tightly around himself. “I uh, seem to have misplaced my clothes.”

“They’re in the wash. That Hellfire shirt might be a lost cause but I think I managed to save everything else. Come sit.” You jerked your head at the empty cushion beside you.

Eddie pushed off the wall and dropped beside you, carefully leaving space between you that crackled with things unsaid.

“How are you feeling?”

“I don’t even know.” Eddie scrubbed a large palm over his face. “More like myself, I guess? But still…”

“Hungry?”

“Yeah.” You hated the lingering note of shame in his voice.

You swallowed but squared your shoulders. “We can fix that.”

His dark eyes snapped to yours. “No.”

“Eddie, it’s fine - “

“Jesus, no it isn’t!” You blinked at his outburst but he forged ahead. “I killed someone. I could have killed you.”

“Andy?”

“Don’t tell me I killed more of the basketball team.”

“Eddie, listen.” You lifted a hand to cup his cheek, to turn his face towards yours to make sure he heard you loud and clear. “That guy was a dick. He was probably out hunting you with his buddies, from what I’ve been hearing. If he didn’t attack you first, he would have and believe me, he wouldn’t have lost any sleep over it.” You shrugged dismissively and added “Besides, he tried to feel me up at a party last year. Fuck that guy, you did the world a favor.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed, his lip curling back and he opened his mouth to speak. You stopped him, pressing your fingers to his full mouth. He swallowed his reply, simply mumbling, “What a dick.”

You nodded, giving him a small smile and turning to face him more fully.

Eddie moved closer, his thigh pressed to your own. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, even as he raked his gaze down your throat. His fingertips brushed the hair from your neck and you shivered.

“What if I told you I liked it?” Your voice trembled, the confession making you feel unaccountably vulnerable, more exposed than even the hungry way Eddie eyed you.

“Jesus, Briar.” He shuddered and dragged his open mouth against your skin. His lips moved in a gentle kiss, a far cry from the searing torrent you craved.

“Why Briar?” It came out as a gasp as you twisted in his arms to climb into his lap.

“Because you found me in the forest. You caught me when I was spinning. Don’t let go.” Eddie’s tender hold tightened and his teeth sank into the delicate skin of your throat.

You tipped your head back and tangled your fingers in his hair. “I w-wanted this before today, you know. Always meant to say something, back in school.”

His lips still locked to your pulse point, Eddie made a questioning sound deep in his throat as if to ask Why didn’t you?

“The usual bullshit,” you hedged before adding, “I was scared.

Eddie pulled away at that, his mouth stained red and his brows lifted. “You’re not now?”

“I was,” you admitted. “Back in the woods when I found you. But then you opened your eyes.”

His eyes widened, something like awe lighting their brown depths.

His surprise would have been sweet if it didn’t wrench your heart to think someone caring for him in that way would be so astonishing. The thought snapped the tether holding you back and you leaned in to capture his lips in a kiss. The taste of copper burst on your tongue but beyond that shock it was simply him. His lips were surprisingly soft against your own, his eager mouth swallowing your shared groan, his tongue gliding against yours as he twisted and bore you down onto the sofa cushions.

He cleared his throat, nuzzling your cheek. "I don't think I can be gentle with you."

"I don't want you to," you murmured, twisting beneath him to pull him more fully on top of you. He drove a knee between your thighs and you couldn't help but grind against him as he licked a stripe up the column of your neck. His teeth scraped softly against your skin, his tongue following to lap up the thin line of blood that beaded there. Then he was grabbing you, his fingers digging into the meat of your waist and you clung to him, your nails trailing furrows down his back.

"Please," he whispered, his voice strained as you rubbed against him like a cat.

"Yes." You made sure to keep your voice steady, threading your fingers through his hair and tilting your head to the side. He inhaled, hissing your name, his breath chilly on your skin. You yelped when his teeth broke the skin once more, pain flaring through you before easing into something delicious, something sinful and indulgent. Your head dropped back and Eddie cradled the back of your neck, holding you still. He rolled his hips against you and you trailed your fingers over the expanse of his chest, down his abdomen to the hem of the towel. He growled and something in you snapped at the sound, wild, needy, and hot. You pulled impatiently at the loose knot at his hip and the towel fell away, his length twitching in your hand.

Eddie pulled away at your first stroke of his cock, red smeared across his mouth and down his chin. And when he kissed you, you tasted the metallic tang of your own blood. Your hand tightened around him and the sound he made was close to a snarl as he leaned forward and licked at the mess he'd made of your neck, trailing his hand down your body to rub against your center. You bucked your hips forward, searching out his touch and he obliged quickly, pushing your underwear to the side, finding you already wet for him. His thumb brushed your clit and you gasped, your back arching off the couch.

"More," you groaned between clenched teeth, hitching one leg higher on his waist. Two thick fingers pierced you as he placed wet, open mouthed kisses to your chest, licking at the hollow of your clavicle and mumbling your name. He pressed his hips forward, thrusting into the tight grip of your fist.

His fingers were cool against your heated flesh, soothing you even as he made you writhe and buck beneath his hand. You felt loose, wanton, and need coiled in your belly as you whimpered for his touch.

“Shit,” Eddie hissed. “You’re so fucking warm.”

You clasped the back of his neck and pulled him closer as you guided his cock where you needed it most. Both of you groaned when he fitted the blunt, swollen tip at your entrance. The stretch was delicious, a promise of even more to come and oh, you wanted him to fill you. Your fingers still wrapped around his length, you squeezed, pulling him deeper inside you. His breath fanned loud and ragged against your ear as he fought to maintain control.

At least, until you met his eyes and whispered “Please.”

With a snarl, Eddie buried himself inside you. The force of it shoved you up the cushions until you reached a hand back to brace yourself against the arm of the sofa. Just as desperate to keep you still, to hold you down and claim you, Eddie seized your hips tight enough to bruise.

“Fucking vixen,” he rasped, the hint of a smirk in his voice. “So tight. So fucking good.”

His praise lit a fire in you and you matched him thrust for thrust, moaning every time his thick cock pushed inside you, stretching you until you thought you would split apart. You realized you had never wanted anyone this much, been this aroused. It stripped any sense of shyness or hesitance away, leaving you free to give yourself over to him in whatever way he wanted.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good. Fuck me harder, Eddie please. Don’t stop, don't stop,” you chanted, babbling mindlessly. Dimly, you were aware of the arousal leaking from you, smearing your thighs and urging Eddie to take you harder, faster, more.

Eddie reached between you, his thick fingers rubbing slick, tight circles against your clit. You were so wet you could hear it and it was obscenely hot, winding you up tighter and tighter. Your breath caught in your throat and you keened, a wild, animal sound you’d never made before. “That’s it, baby,” he urged. “Let yourself go. I’ve got you.”

“Please, please, please,” you whispered, your voice ragged, unsure of what you were begging for but desperate for more, for whatever this was to never end. Eddie’s mouth was back at your throat, his teeth piercing your skin, and the sharp sting of pain threw you over the edge. Your orgasm bloomed through you, violent in its intensity and you shouted his name, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“No, I want to hear you,” he mumbled against your throat, his thrusts deep and uneven as he fought to hold back his own end.

You whimpered his name, the overstimulation threatening to overwhelm you as he kept rubbing lazy circles against your clit. Your hands tangled in his hair, yanking his mouth to yours. Ignoring the shock of pain at your neck as his teeth ripped away from your skin, you licked into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and moaning. He followed you over the edge, coming hot and deep with a grunt of your name, his fingers digging bruises into the flesh at your hips.

After what felt like an eternity, your heart rate slowed and your breathing calmed. You shivered, Eddie’s cool skin against the sheen of sweat that coated your body sending goosebumps erupting over your arms and legs. Nudging him gently, you moved from beneath him, but his hand caught your wrist as you stood. His eyes were soft when he looked up at you, pleading and nervous.

“I need a shower,” you answered the unasked question. He pushed off the couch and followed you to the bathroom, a shadow at your back.

You turned the water to hot, praying to whatever god that listened that it would be enough to ease the aches and knots that had started twisting your muscles. Turning to face Eddie, you gathered his hair up in a knot at the top of his head and secured it with a hair tie, a few riotous curls escaping to frame his face. He quirked a brow at you and you shrugged. “No sense in getting it wet again.”

—

After your shower you lay in bed, your limbs tangled with Eddie’s. Kate Bush played softly in the background and Eddie dragged his fingertips across your scalp, slowly easing the headache that had begun to pound at your temples. You were tired, exhausted even, but you were afraid to close your eyes, terrified that if you did, he would simply disappear.

“We should probably talk about, well… everything,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” you mumbled in agreement. The unsaid questions hung heavy in the air.

What the hell happened to you?

What’s really going on in Hawkins?

Do you feel this too?

After a pause, you ventured “Can it wait until tomorrow?”

You could feel the tension leaking out of Eddie, disappearing like smoke as he relaxed into your arms. “Oh, absolutely.” He mumbled it into your shoulder, pressing lazy, open mouthed kisses to any skin he could reach. You did the same, slipping in and out of sleep, drawn back by the need to reassure yourself that he was still there, to keep mapping his body in the dark.

You finally drifted off with his weight comfortably above you and your arms around his waist, each clinging to the other in a silent promise.

I’m here.

You’re safe.

I’ve got you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munsin x female reader #eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 fic #morningstar #my fic

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