#stranger things fix it fic

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐈𝐭 𝐔𝐩 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Part One

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader

Summary: Eddie’s been distant and self conscious about his body ever since the bat incident in the upside down, meaning the two of you haven’t slept together for a while, when you finally confront him on it he vows to make it up to you...

Warnings: spoilers for vol.2, fluff, angst, smut, dirty talk, dry humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, minors DNI

A/N: it’s long and I’m not sorry bc it’s absolutely worth it imo haha!! inspiration is taken from my darling 🦔 & 🎸😈 anons from this & this ask! we explored this idea in my asks and I just had to write it in full, I hope you guys enjoy!! <3

Read Part Two

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

It had been nearly a month since the fallout of ‘defeating’ Vecna. The earthquakes, the evacuation, the chaos. The only silver lining was that hunting Eddie was no longer the main priority for the town and you’d been able to smuggle him out. The two of you had rented an RV and were hidden off the grid. The rest of the gang occasionally stopped by to check in and to drop supplies, but for the most part it was just you and Eddie.

You thought this time together, completely alone, would be a haven. Getting to spend unlimited time with the boy you loved so much it almost pained you. But it wasn’t.

Eddie was distant and closed off, often zoning out completely even when you were talking to him. You knew he was recovering, both physically and mentally, from his time in the upside down. You knew he was being plagued by nightmares and flashbacks. But the thing that pained you the most was that he just wouldn’t let you help him.

He refused to talk about it. And furthermore he refused to let you help him anyway. He wouldn’t let you tend to his wounds He wouldn’t even let your hands get anywhere near his torso.

Yes, it had been nearly a month since the fallout of ‘defeating’ Vecna, and it had also been nearly a month since you and Eddie had last been together, intimately speaking. You hadn’t even seen him shirtless in that time frame either. Before the incident he used to always walk around the trailer shirtless, feeling completely comfortable and at ease around you. But now... now he scurried into the bathroom to get changed. He held the hem of his shirt down whenever he reached for something on a high shelf, refusing to let even just a sliver of his belly show.

But the worst of it? The worst of it was the way he wouldn’t let you touch him anymore, or how he wouldn't touch you either. He flinched any time your hands came anywhere near his torso. The only way he’d let you hug him was with your arms around his neck, and even then it was nowhere near the kinds of hugs you used to share before, where his entire body would engulf you and clutch you impossibly close to him.

You knew he needed time to heal, both physically and emotionally. But, truth be told, you weren’t sure how much longer you could last. Both your heart and your body ached for him, ached for just a glimpse of the boy you knew.

You'd thought you were finally making progress the other day when you ended up in a heavy makeup session. You were on top of him, your lips moving fervently against his, your legs on either side of his hips, grinding into him like your life depended on it. You were already wet, desperately aching for his touch, and you could feel how hard he was beneath you. But as soon as your hands had made their way down his neck towards his torso he froze completely, stopping all movements and telling you he needed a minute before he all but ran away from you, leaving you desperate, frustrated, but above all, sad.

You tried every day, every single day, to coax out the boy you knew. Playing his favourite music, cooking his favourite foods, picking his favourite movies to watch. You’d walk around wearing nothing but one his shirts, fishing for a reaction. Something, anything. Just anything to gain kind some kind of response from him. But he’d simply smile politely, make small talk, and then spend the evening sitting quietly with you just next to him, at most your thighs touching.

It had been this way for a month and clearly nothing was working. So today, you gave up. You sat in silence. Didn’t put the effort into trying anymore. You were at your wits end, what else were you supposed to do?

Eddie sits beside you on the bed, his hands playing awkwardly in his lap as whatever movie you’d let him pick plays softly in front of you. You’d zoned out long ago, sat in a world of your own thoughts; memories of the times you’d used to share with your fun loving boyfriend. You also couldn’t help that your mind had started to wonder back to other types of memories. You can’t help as you start to feel yourself get wet, trying to discreetly rub your thighs just to get some kind of friction. Flashbacks of him kissing you, touching you, fucking you...

“What’s wrong?” Eddie’s voice suddenly cuts through your reverie.

“What?” You blink at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” He repeats. “You’ve been really quiet today. Distant” he shrugs.

You scoff incredulously; “I've been distant?"

He looks at you nervously when he hears the edge in your tone.

“You’re one to talk, Munson” you continue. “I think that might be the first time you’ve spoken to me in a month without me prompting it first!” you hiss.

You see the hurt in his eyes and almost immediately regret your little outburst. You sigh, taking a moment to try and compose yourself, searching for the right words. It was now or never you supposed. You couldn’t keep going on like this; you guessed now was as good a time as any to try and talk to him.

“Eddie, have you even realised how distant you’ve been with me recently?” You ask him gently. “Like I said, you’ve barley spoken two words to me in a month. You barely even acknowledge my presence, even when I’m sat right beside you. You don’t even look at me properly anymore. You don’t kiss me, you don’t hold me, you don’t touch me” your voice almost cracks with the tears that were threatening to spill.

He looks at you sadly, pain etched on his face.

“I know you’ve needed time to... deal with everything. So have I. But you wont even let me be there for you, you won’t let me help. You’ve been going through it all on your own even though I’m right here. I’ve tried everything I can think of to try and show you that but honestly I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how else I can help you, and it’s breaking my heart. I just feel so useless. Amongst other things...” you murmur the last line to yourself.

You take another deep breath.

“I just, I- I miss you” you mumble quietly, brining your point to a conclusion.

You look at him sadly, feeling a tear prick your eye. You gently reach out a hand to cup his cheek. You feel him tense slightly before he leans lightly into your touch.

“I’m sorry” he whispers.

He stares into the distance for a moment before taking another deep breath.

“I’ve been neglecting you” he suddenly states, something like defeat lingering in his voice.

“No, no that’s not I meant. I just want to be there for you, I want you to let me be there for you” you try to reassure him quickly.

“Yeah but I closed myself off, didn’t I? And in that process I wasn't there for you either.”

You shrug. That wasn’t exactly your main concern right now but he certainly wasn’t wrong; it was still a pretty big deal to you. Eddie reaches out to grab you, gently lifting you off the bed next to him and guiding you to straddle his lap. You were only wearing his t-shirt and some thin panties, meaning there was not much in the way between your aching pussy and the crotch of his jeans. You try bite back a moan as you feel the roughness of his pants against your cunt, but a small whimper escapes your lips. And Eddie is quick to notice.

“You missed me baby?” He tilts his head to the side as he looks at you.

“Yes, but-“ you were trying to keep on track to get this boy to open up to you but he cuts you off.

“You missed me touching you? You missed these hands?” He hums as he splays his hands over your thigh.

You nod, your hips starting to grind on their own accord. Your mind begins fog, your focus fading as Eddie's hands slide their way up your legs, sending shivers through your body.

“My poor baby, you must be so needy hmm? Just aching to be touched” he taunts.

When his hands reach your hips, running over the waistband of your panties, the last of your resolve crumbles. You nod again and tug on his hair, silently asking him to give you more. And he did. As his left hand finds a hold on your hip, his right hand dips underneath your panties. You whimper as he cups your pussy for a moment before he finally curls two fingers to run between your folds. You practically shiver from the sensation as he rubs his fingers up and down your slit, collecting the wetness that had already pulled there.

“Fuck sweetheart, did I really leave you that desperate? You’re fucking soaked” He groans loudly.

You mewl and nod your head, biting your lip pathetically.

“I was thinking about you” you whisper. “Thinking about how you used to touch me. How you used to fuck me” you nudge his nose with your own as your words come out in a breathy pant.

He groans deeply again as he starts to move his hand further down, his fingers now tracing your entrance,

“Yeah? Were you thinking about how good my fingers feel? Hmm?”

You nod again, bucking your hips against his fingers, effectively humping his hand.

“Yes,” you sigh, “your fingers always felt so good.”

“Yeah?” He taunts as he finally sinks two fingers inside you, both of them slipping in so easy thanks to how wet you were.

He slowly picks up his rhythm, pumping you with his two fingers, curling them in the way he knew drove you crazy.

“This poor pretty cunt of yours hasn’t been used for so long hmm?” He hums as he moves his thumb to start small circles on your clit.

You whimper, hitting an impossibly high pitch as you feel yourself race embarrassingly fast towards a climax.

“I’m so sorry baby” he groans, his lips attaching to your neck, peppering hot kisses across your throat. “I’ll make it up to you” he whispers the promise against your skin.

In the same breath he starts to speed up his movements, his fingers pumping in and out of you rapidly, his thumb swirling around your clit with even more fervour. You swear you almost feel another tear sting your eyes as pleasure courses through your body.

“Oh fuck, yes yes yes yes” you whisper incoherently as your orgasm blinds you, coming on impossibly fast.

The months worth of built up tension melting away as pleasure burns through you, your fingers dig painfully hard into Eddie’s shoulders as your body shakes and convulses. You almost didn’t even care that you’d cum so quickly; if anything it was just a testament to how much you needed this, just how desperate you had been for him.

“That’s my good girl” Eddie hums, kissing along your jaw.

He pumps you slowly a few more times before gently removing his fingers from you. You sigh, completely content in your post orgasmic bliss. But Eddie just smirks up at you.

“I hope you don’t think we're finished, sweetheart. I’ve got a lot of time to make up for” he murmurs between kissing down your throat.

He stops to quickly help you shrug his shirt off your body before he carries on kissing down your chest. He takes a moment to worship your tits, biting and swirling his tongue over each nipple, kissing and sucking hickies into the soft fleshy skin of your breasts. You squirm under his touch, pushing your hips into him, your pussy already aching with need again.

Once he’s finished his assault on your breasts he gently lifts you off him and lays you down on the mattress, flipping the two of you over. He kisses your lips sweetly before his kisses move down your body again. When he reaches your hip bones he hums against your skin, kissing tantalisingly close to where you wanted him, needed him, but not giving in just yet. He yanks your panties down your leg, shucking them off to the floor. Eddie then grabs your legs with his hands, opening you up and spreading you wide in front of him.

“Oh fuck” he groans into the skin of your thigh. “I’ve missed this sight. This pretty little pussy of yours” he kisses up and down your inner thighs. “Gonna worship it like I should’ve been doing ages ago” he promises, placing a kiss to the apex of your thigh.

Without hesitation he dives right into your pussy, his mouth wasting no time in latching onto your clit. You moan and arch your body in response, your head falling back onto the mattress.

“Fuck baby you taste so good” he sighs against your clit. “I’ve missed this taste” he murmurs between kitten licking your swollen clit. “Did you miss my tongue too, sweetheart?”

You can feel him smirk into your cunt as you just answer with a loud moan. You moan even louder when you realise that Eddie himself is humping the mattress, desperately grinding his still clothed crotch against the bed. Pleasuring you had only turned him on even more. Listening to your moans, the sound of his name falling from your lips; it had him aching for some kind of release of his own whilst he tongue fucked you. The sight of it was almost too much to bear. It was so hot watching him hump the bed like that that you feel your second climax race faster to the surface.

“Oh fuck, Eddie” you cry as your second orgasm crashes through you.

You gasp and moan between your laboured breathing, your chest heaving up and down as pleasure racks through you. Your fingers knot into his hair, holding him against you as you fuck yourself against his face, riding out your high. Eddie softly sucks on your clit, drawing out your orgasm for all it was worth. After he feels you start to convulse he finally releases your clit, placing a soft kiss to the inside of your right thigh.

Eddie looks up at you, your wetness glistening his lips and his chin. He gives you a small smile, looking at you as he gently kisses your thighs again. You moan loudly and sit up quickly. You grab the neck of Eddie’s shirt and pull him into you. Your lips crash against his, devouring the taste of yourself on his mouth. He hums a small sound of surprise before he groans, opening his mouth and letting your tongue slide over his. You use the element of surprise to your advantage, flipping Eddie over and pinning him to the bed with your hips.

You keep kissing him but immediately you can start to feel his hesitation. His hands on your hips are no longer pulling you against him but are rather holding you in place, not letting you rut against him like you wanted to. You slow down the kiss, slow down everything, thinking maybe if you just gave him a second you might be able to carry on.

But alas, just as your hands slide down his neck to his chest, rubbing over his shirt, his hands fly up to catch yours and halt their movements. His lips part from yours as he dips his head, his eyes locking on to where his hands held yours in place, almost as if he was afraid if he looked away they’d somehow find a way to those scars he was so desperate to keep hidden.

“Eddie, please...” you plead with him sadly. “It’s okay” you try to reassure him gently. “Just let me in. Let me see” you whisper.

“I can’t,” he breathes shakily, “I just can’t.”

Despite what had just occurred you still hadn’t reached the root of the issue, which mostly revolved around Eddie’s self-esteem issues. He may have touched you again, provided you some release, but you still hadn’t actually got through to him about letting you in, about opening up to you.

You’d gotten so lost in him finally touching you again that you’d missed it for what it actually was.... a distraction.

To be continued...

Part Two

Masterlist

A/N: if anyone was curious, probably not but anyway, this was titled after Imagine Dragons’ song I’ll Make It Up To You which is one of my favourites of theirs! I hope you guys enjoyed this! part two will be posted shortly, stay tuned!! <33

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

[msgexymunson]

One Slow Blink Part 2

Second part right here due to Tumblr restrictions

Description: As a nurse, you want to help people, as many as you can. But, with the insane things that have been going on in Hawkins, and the crazed look in Dustin's eyes when he stumbles into the ER covered in blood with an impossible tale to tell, it makes you wonder; how much are you prepared to give? 

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, *Here there be monsters! Honestly, there's straight up monster fucking in this so if you're not into that do not read*, AFAB sub nurse reader x dom monster Eddie, kinda Alpha/Omega without them knowing it, injury descriptions, S4 does happen and Eddie lives but he be a monster, hand job, fem oral receiving, male oral receiving, consensual predator/prey dynamic, fingering, very rough sex, biting/marking, unprotected p in v, knotting.

A/N: This has come from yet another deranged dream of mine. I imagine Eddie looking kinda like a mix between the Beast from the original Beauty and the Beast, and the dog/kangaroo guys from Tank Girl, but with a longer snout. If you don't know, that's a dirty mix between a lion, a bear, a wolf and maybe a little of Venom's tongue (because I am a whore.)

22k words for both parts, I know, mental, but it's worth it ;)

Masterlist Part 1

You must have fallen asleep like that, as once your eyes open it looks to be almost night, the sun dipping past the horizon. The light slipping past your makeshift curtain is a deep red. You ache all over, especially your shoulder, but it doesn't stop you from smiling. 

At some point he must have pulled you on top of him, both arms circling you possessively, holding you to his chest like a child's doll. His member has slipped out of you; you can feel the stickiness of his release coating the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. 

Breathing changes as he stirs beneath you, opening his eyes in a squint. 

“Hey you.” 

He murmurs a soft sound from his chest, licking your cheek with his long tongue. 

“Ew! Eddie, you've got dog breath.” 

“Charrrming.” 

You laugh, hitting his chest playfully, shifting above him so you're straddling him.

“We better get cleaned up, I've got to get to the hospital in a few hours.” 

Eddie whines, grabbing your hips as you try to stand, pushing your wet heat against his twitching bulge. 

“Eddie…”

You breathe out in a warning, but it sounds too needy. He's not listening, rubbing you back and forth over his swelling length. 

“Eddie I don't think I can take another round, you were- oh fuck-” 

The sentence falters as he catches your clit, setting a thousand butterflies loose in your tummy. 

“I’ll… be gentle.” 

You hiccup a little laugh, staring down at him with a raised brow. 

“I don't think you can.” 

“Forrr you… I can.” 

You reach out to stroke his fuzzy cheek and he nuzzles into the touch. The affection he shows from that simple gesture has you relenting, guiding his member into you, slipping in easily, his previous sticky release helping its journey. 

Sitting back and allowing yourself to revel in the beautiful stretch, you experience that familiar wash of relief, a calm caressing your very soul. Eddie seems to feel it too, letting out a long breath as his shoulders lose tension. 

“This feels right,” you confess, hand running down his chest, “like, like-” 

His gravelly purr interrupts your spill words, reverberating through your ribcage. 

“Like you… werrre made forrr me, sweet-hearrrt.” 

It's much slower this time, more of a languid grinding as you both move against each other, that undercurrent of need more of a smouldering heat, rather than the unquenchable fire from earlier. Eddie pants as he watches you, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth as you reach your precipice, your eyebrows knotting and body shuddering around him. 

Falling against his form, entirely spent, skin glowing with sweat, you hold onto him as he chases his own release. True to his word, he's much more gentle, gripping your hips and moving you to meet his shallow thrusts. You see his snout scrunch when he's on the brink, just before he pulls you off of him and holds you to his torso. You can feel his cock pumping out his orgasm against your stomach, glueing the pair of you together. 

“Eddie, you didn't need to-” 

“Last time we werrre… stuck togetherrr, for half hourrr.” 

You giggle, astonished at his words. 

“Really? Damn, I must have fell asleep.” 

“You did. Couldn't move. Was… nice.” 

Reaching up to play with the fur on his cheek, you think about what he just said. 

“You know, I think that's knotting. You know, like d-”

“If you say… dogs…” He warns, winding a finger in your hair and tugging gently. 

“Fine. Canines.” 

He grabs you, holding you in place as he slathers your face with his tongue, drooling all over you. 

“Eddie! Yuck, stop, stop!” 

“Thought I was… dog. This is what dogs do… rrrright?” 

You squeal loudly trying to extricate yourself from his hold. 

“OK, OK! You're not a dog! Stop!” 

He finally relents and you get up, unpeeling from the sticky skin and matted fur of his stomach. 

“Right, I'm gonna have a shower before you start humping my leg.” 

He snaps his teeth at you playfully as you leave. When you're standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you see why your shoulder hurts so much. There's teeth marks in it; pinpricks of broken skin tinged with blood. They aren't deep, but the redness around them looks like it's going to leave a hell of a bruise. For some reason, you're not mad. The opposite in fact. It feels like a claim. You are his, and this is so the world can see. 

Once you're clean and relatively dry, you go into the living area to find some food, throwing on one of Eddie's new t-shirts. It may as well be a dress, the hem kissing your mid thigh. 

Something doesn't feel right though. Suddenly there's a rolling in the pit of your stomach, a sense of impending doom. The light streaming through the partially boarded windows is still an ominous red. Risking a look, you peer out of the slats and see the sky. 

It's flashing red and blue, as if there's an enormous thunderstorm boiling the heavens, but there's no sound. It looks unnatural, colouring the landscape around in the same foreboding hues. You feel hot, and sick. 

Eddie barrels into the room with a towel still around his waist, tackling you to the ground. 

“Eddie, whats-” 

“Stay low… some-thing coming… smells wrrrong.” 

You whisper as quietly as you can.

“What can you smell?” 

He takes a moment, snuffling at the air with his eyes closed. 

“Outside… woods, dirrrt. Frrriends, coming. And… can't ex-plain in worrrds. Sticky… chem-i-cal… pulsing… grrey blue. Wrrrong.” 

You suppose that's what you get for asking a question about something you can't possibly understand, what with the stark differences in your senses. You try a different tact.

“Have you… smelled it before?” 

“Differrrent… but, similarrrr… to up-side-down.” 

There's the shoe that you were waiting to drop. Now the feeling in your gut made sense. 

“Eddie, you said… friends were coming?” 

“Harrrrrington… and Henderrrrson forrr surrre… smell the damn hairrsprrray.” 

In spite of the situation, you giggle. He flashes his teeth, dropping his guard for just an instant. 

There's a powerful knock at the door that makes you jump. Eddie leaps up and flings it open with such force that it slams into the wooden wall sending dust flying. 

You just about make out the figure of a girl with a shaved head and a bloody nose who thrusts an outstretched hand toward Eddie. Dustin's voice rings out behind her. 

“Elle no!” 

There's a strange force, like a gust of wind with no air that buffets around Eddie's snarling form. You feel it pulling you, ripping you backwards as you roll across the floorboards. Eddie seems unaffected, not moving from his spot. 

“Eleven, stop! You think monsters wear pink towels??”  

The girl looks baffled and turns to where Dustin is running forward, waving his arms wildly. Steve is following quickly behind. They both look battered and bruised. As Steve comes into focus you see his entire front is covered in blood. 

Instincts kicking in, you shoulder past Eddie and run toward him. 

“Steve, what happened!” 

“It's alright it's not my blood. Eleven, this is Eddie.” 

Ah, Eleven. It makes more sense now. The powers, the shaved head. 

“Who- is she?” 

Eleven stares at you with a confused expression. You introduce yourself, and explain what you think you are. 

“...I'm, er, Eddie's girlfriend.”

Eleven's eyes widen but she doesn't say anything. Dustin, however, can't possibly stop the words spilling from his mouth. 

“Girlfriend?? Seriously? But-” 

“Henderson, focus! That's not important right now!” 

“I was just asking, Steve!” 

“Well don't we have other stuff we need to-” 

“Hey!” 

Shocked, you realise the shout came from you. 

“Everyone, just calm down and get inside so we can talk, OK?” 

Your words seem to cut through all arguments as everybody makes it inside, standing and looking at you for direction. Attempting to keep the authoritative air you've managed to concoct, you order them to sit down whilst you and Eddie get dressed. 

When you're no longer feeling so exposed, you come back into the living room holding Eddie's hand. 

“Right now, Steve, you first. What the fucks going on?” 

He weirdly looks at Eleven first, who gives a curt nod. 

“Right, right, so, it's a little-” 

Dustin cuts in. 

“-Vecna's back from the Upside Down with his Demogorgons and bats and stuff and they're taking over Hawkins and we need Eddie Dog to help defeat him!” 

Stumbling back a little stunned, your wide eyes search his vainly for the sign of some prank. There is none. 

“So… you're saying there's monsters in Hawkins??”

Steve responds calmly, juxtaposing Dustin’s trembling form.

“ ‘fraid so. Nance and Hopper and everyone else are holed up in the library. Everyone left in the town’s there. Well, everyone who's not dead or ran away.” 

“Wait, so Hopper’s alive??” 

“Yes! He was captured by evil Russians but Mrs Byers got him back and-” 

“Alright, alright,” you hold your palms up to Dustin, “what does Eddie have to do with this?” 

“Listen, Henderson's got this theory that Eddie's… powers… came out so he can stop Vecna.” 

“But that's absurd, he was bitten!” You turn to Eddie but he looks just as shocked as you. 

“Yeah but, we've seen a lot of people today who've been bitten by something. No one else changed.” 

“Exactly,” Dustin says, grinning, “Eddie's got super strength now, he's all healed, I bet he's got other powers.” 

Eleven starts talking unexpectedly. 

“I tried to throw him. He did not move.” 

“See!? He's a superhero.” 

“So, wait, Eleven can't throw him,” you begin, “but that doesn't mean she can't throw stuff at him. What's to stop Vecna throwing a car or something?” 

Everyone looks at Eleven.

Wordlessly, she focuses on a lamp that sits on a side table. To your astonishment, it begins to float in the air, then hurls itself at Eddie with remarkable force. Then the strangest thing happens. It hovers a few inches from Eddie as if stopped by an invisible barrier, then falls to the floor uselessly. 

Silence. You break it, voice splitting as it goes high pitched with worry. 

“Right, but that doesn't mean Vecna can't hurt him, just because Eleven can't, right? Right??” 

Eddie's the one to respond, holding your hands in one bearish paw. 

“Sweet-hearrrt, they'rrre rrright… I can help… I should help… need to prrotect the Shirrre… prrrotect you.” 

“But-but-” Tears well in your eyes as you stare back at him. 

“I need to… otherrrrwise… I am… this… is all a waste.” 

You nod, but pull your hands from his and walk into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. The pain is too much to bear. It does make sense, if you were being rational, but right now you aren't rational. Nothing about this is rational. You've just found the love of your life and you might lose him to this stupid fight. 

Fuck. You love him.

It's finally clear. The feeling in your stomach, the draw you have toward him, the fire in your veins, in your heart. You barely know him, but you love him. 

And now that might get ripped away because of some damn fight that shouldn't have had anything to do with him in the first place. 

You perch on the bed, head in your hands as tears leak down your cheeks. There's no fight in you to stop them, grieving for something that hasn't happened yet but seems inevitable. There's whispering in the other room, plans being made, but it all sounds like it's underwater, drowned by the power of your tears. 

After a while, Eddie opens the door and shuffles in the room, sitting down on the bed next to you. He slowly starts to explain the plan to you, how Will can sense when Vecna or the monsters are near, how Elle will help clear a path, how he has the strength to defeat him, since Vecna's powers are all he has. He doesn't have the speed or strength that Eddie does. 

There's a loaded quiet when he's finished. You're angry, wiping away stray tears fiercely from your face, but you're not angry at him. You're angry at the situation, at Vecna, at the Upside Down. Angry at the powers that seem to be pulling you apart. 

“Fine. But I'm coming with you.” 

“No,” he snarls, pulling his arm around you, “they need… heal-ers. You… can help.” 

“But what if- what if you get hurt?” 

“Won't.” 

“Promise?” 

Staring up whilst you are brimming with tears, he cups your face, looking back at you with soulful eyes. 

“I'll do… everrry-thing I can.”

“No!” You shout, tears falling once again as your face heats up, “you can't say that, they say that in the hospital and people die!”

Wringing your hands, flipping them over and over each other in your lap, you barely notice Eddie falling to the floor in front of you. 

Then his burly arms are circling you, his maw pushed into your abdomen, inhaling you deeply, sweetly. It stops your incessant fidgeting, fingers resting in his long locks. They wind into his hair, twisting through to massage his scalp as he purrs into the flesh of your stomach. 

“Eddie, if you love me you'll come back to me. Do-do you love me, Eddie?”

He looks up at you, deep chestnut eyes searching your face. 

One slow blink. 

There's a soft knock at the door and Dustin opens it. 

“We have to go soon. Are you ready Eddie Dog?” 

Eddie growls low in his throat, swivelling to face him on all fours, hackles raised. Dustin immediately attempts to backtrack, arm raised to try and protect his face. 

“I mean, I didn't mean- it's from the demogorgon, you know, demodogs, Eddie Dog, I did think DemoEddie but Dog-”

Eddie pounces, pinning Dustin to the ground. Dustin's eyes scrunch shut as he screams, voice breaking in terror. 

“Shit shit shiiiiiiiiiit!!!” 

You giggle inanely as Eddie licks Dustin's face wetly. He bounds off him and shoots a wink at you, before lending Dustin a hand and dragging him to his feet. 

“I am not… a dog.” 

Dustin is laughing in relief, nerves racking through it. 

“No you're not, I'm sorry I'm sorry-” 

Steve appears in the doorway. 

“Guys, get in here.”

All mockery forgotten, you make your way into the living space in silence. 

“Steve, what's going on?” 

“That's just it. Listen.” 

You all stop, ears working in overdrive as you all try to hear what he hears. Breaking the quiet spell that had drifted over everyone, you speak. 

“I can't hear anything.”

“Exactly. Don't you get it? All over town, all through the woods, there's been these things. Demogorgons, bats, horrible things. But here, there's nothing.” 

“Eddie, you smell anything?” 

Eddie closes his eyes, snout wiggling in effort as he opens his preternatural senses. His voice rumbles out in its usual gravelly purr.

“That scent… it's herrre, it's on them… up-side-down smell… therrres nothing close by… except a few deerrr.” 

Steve holds a hand up, stage whispering to you.

“He can smell that?” 

“Yes… and hearrr acrrross rrrooms.” 

“Sorry big guy, I just- that's awesome.” 

Dustin is beaming, staring at Eddie like he's a superhero. Steve continues, making sure he's looking at Eddie, you notice, keeping him in the conversation. 

“So, if those things aren't nearby… maybe, maybe they're afraid of him? Hate to say it but I'm starting to agree with Dustin. Maybe you're supposed to be like this Munson.” 

Sighing in acceptance, you turn to Eddie. 

“Fine. If you think you can help you should go. Don't let me stop you. But you have to come back to me.” 

He gives you a slow blink, and you nod, accepting fate. Then you move into action, grabbing the partially used trauma kit, along with anything else you think might be helpful. Everyone else is doing the same, as if they were waiting for your approval. 

Pretty soon you're being bundled into what appears to be a stolen pick up truck with Eddie sitting in the back, as you race back into town. 

If you could call it town anymore. 

Your mind rolls to every post apocalyptic movie you've ever seen, but none of them compare to it happening in front of your eyes. Crumbling buildings that you recognise send spears of hurt through your heart. Over there, the gas station where you bought your first underage beers, now a smoking wreckage. On your left, the drug store where you used to pick up your mom's prescription, cracked and half buried in rubble. 

A cloud of chattering sound passes quickly overhead; you hear Eddie growling low as batlike creatures wing their way to another destination, seemingly unbothered by your presence. It's either that, or they don't want to tangle with your boyfriend. You pray that it's the latter.

Steve takes a sharp left turn and you fling to the side in your seat. 

“I thought we were heading to the library, isn't it that way?” 

“Yep, if you wanna cross a gorge. The roads opened so wide that nothing can get through.” 

The enormity of the situation is sinking into you, winding around your spine, fear clasping you in its unwanted clutches. 

Ignore it. Don't recognise it. Turn your back on it. There's people that need your help. 

Steve pulls up a few yards away from the library, and you clench your jaw, telling your tears to fuck right off. Now is not the time for tears. 

You and Dustin jump out of the truck, and he rushes to the library to bring everyone who needs to be part of this final stand. A final stand that doesn't involve you. A final stand that has the love of your life sitting front and centre. 

Running around to the back of the truck you grab Eddie's head firmly in both your hands. 

“You- you remember what I said? You need to come back to me, you hear me? ‘Cause if you don't I'll kill you myself. Get it Eddie? You do this and you come back to me!!” 

Eddie holds your hands in his enormous paws, enveloping your soft flesh instantly. Nuzzling his snout against your cheek, he breathes in your ear. 

“I'll come back… to what's mmine.” 

You press fierce hot kisses to the soft fur of his face, over and over, until he pulls you from him, holding your hands away. 

“You love me Eddie. I know you do.” 

One slow blink. 

In an instant, he's gone, quieter than snow. Falling to the floor, you hold your head in your hands, crushed by the barbarity of the situation. 

You didn't say it. You didn't tell him you love him too. Saying it out loud would make it more real. Saying it out loud would make the pain worse if you lose him. 

Soft fingers pry at you, leading you onward, inside. In a daze you follow, feet on autopilot as you clutch the trauma bag in front of you like a shield. 

Inside is a bustle of activity, a hive of ants that all have a purpose and none of them involve you. You're guided gently down onto a seat and the insects run about, fetching food, water, bandages. It all seems to be happening outside of you, following a rhythm that you can't hear. 

“Hey, hey!” One of the swarm seems to be addressing you. Tilting your head, you look towards them. It's an older woman; half her face is concealed by a makeshift eyepatch. 

“You're a doctor, right? We need someone over here now!” 

Instincts take over. Legs rising of their own accord, they march over to a camp bed that's been set up. Another woman lays there, breaths shallow and humanising. There's an enormous gash in her side. 

“OK OK, I can help, just don't move too much, I'll try and stop the bleeding.” 

Then the next person. And then, the next person. 

Mind floating into a subconscious haze, your memories take over. That situation before at the hospital, the textbook you once studied, a hypothetical conversation with a doctor. You take it, all at once, power beyond what should be possible, but you do it. 

You do it for him. 

Minutes pass into hours unseen as you tear through every available useful item, every strip of gauze from your bag, until it happens. 

A pain so profound that grips your shoulder and your heart hard enough for you to look around for the shotgun. It emanates out of the bitemark, pulsing into your veins with alarming force. 

“He's hurt.”

Collapsing to the side, you hold a firm hand to your own heart, as if you could will it to slow. Legs give out from under you, your rear landing on the hard surface behind. For a minute you sit, unable to move, unable to think, wondering why everyone around seems so controlled. Don't they realise your entire universe is shattering into splinters before their very eyes? 

There's a hand shaking you by the arm, someone asking if you're OK. They lift you, place you in a seat, and keep asking, and asking. Your tongue feels heavy, unable to form words to explain the hurt you're feeling. This deep hurt is rooted into your bone marrow; heavy, hard and cold. 

There's a familiar face in front of you, a round childish face with curling boyish locks and a worried expression. Dustin. 

“Hey, you there? Can ya hear me?” 

Nodding wordlessly, you point to your chest, directly over your heart, eyes wincing in pain. 

“Did you get hurt?” 

You shake your head, and manage one word. 

“Eddie.” 

Before Dustin can respond, Nancy runs in, face covered in grime and dark blood, panting for breath. 

“They… did it… Hoppers here with Eleven. The gates are closed. But, Eddie-” 

Hearing his name you rush back into your body. 

“Where is he?” 

“Steve and Jonathan are taking him back to the cabin. He's unconscious. He’s… in a bad way, but he's alive.”

He's alive. 

“I need to get to him. Dustin, grab any bandages you can find. Nancy, you got a car?” 

She nods and leads you outside. The sky has quietened, no longer flashing in supernatural colours. Looking upward, you  can almost believe this is a normal night in Hawkins. Taking in the streets, the truth is far from it. 

Three monstrous things lay on the sidewalk, covered in some slimy substance and splattered in unnatural blood. Their skin has a blue grey sheen to it, and their limbs are twisted awkwardly. Their heads seem to have been split open, but then you realise it's just one gigantic mouth, unfurling like a gristly lily. The fleshy petals are lined with dozens of tiny sharp teeth. 

You press a toe to one of them nervously. Its head lulls to one side, utterly lifeless. 

“Hey I got the band- Holy shit!!” 

Dustin's voice cracks mid sentence, then he sighs in relief when he realises the monsters are dead. Nancy calls at you both to hurry and you bundle into the car as she races through the cracked, ruined streets of Hawkins. 

The gas station, the shops, town hall, it's all unimportant. What matters is getting to Eddie. You need to save him. 

Suddenly a heavy feeling in your chest lifts, but not in comfort. It's as if someone's tugged a weighted blanket off of you, exposing your vulnerability for the world to see. Eddie's presence, once a firm hold coddling your heart, is reduced to a whisper of a thought. Gossamer threads tie you instead of lead ropes that you hadn't even realised were there until they were nearly gone. 

“Nancy, we need to hurry, he's almost gone!” 

She doesn't question how you know, just presses her foot to the accelerator and bombs through Hawkins and onto the familiar country road. She gets as near as the woods will allow, until you're yanking the door open and continuing on shaky legs, feet pounding at the bracken and tears streaming from the corners of your eyes. 

A singular thought races through your mind with each footfall. Save him. Save him. Like a heartbeat. 

The cabin starts to appear out of the darkness, the lights inside a beacon of hope. As you reach the front door it flies open, Steve standing in the frame. 

His hair is sticking out in every direction; part of it is plastered to his forehead with blood. A bat with nails in it is hanging limply at his side and his clothes are torn. There's gashes in his front, as if gigantic claws had swiped at him. Previously you would have stopped, gaping at his wounds in horror and done anything you could to help, but after everything you've seen tonight they seem almost trivial. 

“Is he here?” 

Steve takes a deep breath in, swinging the bat at his side as if on instinct. 

“He's here, I guess. He was awesome, then- he wasn't him, in the end. He's not said a word after Vecna, then when Mrs- well, he passed out. Just, be careful.” 

You nod and shoulder your way through, past a long haired guy with the intense expression who you assume is Jonathan, and into the bedroom.

It's a familiar scene, so much so that it borders on comfort. He's strapped down to the bed, a belt wrapped around his feral maw. His breaths are shallow and wet sounding. A snarling whistle of a snore escapes on each exhale. 

His wounds are deep, much deeper than before. There's blood pooling at his side from a gaping wound, it looks like one of those bastard monsters took a bite out of him. That seems the worst damage, that and a bite on his shoulder that almost mirrors your own. You'd laugh at the irony if you weren't so upset. On top of that, there are so many scrapes and claw marks and bruises that it makes your heart ache. 

“One of you, come in here and help me.” 

Steve appears in the door frame, bat held high as if Eddie were about to pounce. 

“Steve, put the bat down. I need your help cleaning these wounds.” 

He lowers his arm and moves nearer to you, but doesn't let the bat go. 

“I don't think you get it. When Vecna- when he realised he couldn't hurt him, those demogorgons got him. He fought three of them at once and then he… well, he tore Vecna in half. Since then he's not… he was a beast. Tried to attack me and Hopper, until Mrs Byers whacked him over the head, knocked him out cold. I'm not sure he's Eddie, anymore.”

There's a tug at your heart, a spindly web like thread that pulls you to your love. 

“He's weak, but he's there. I know it. Help me clean these wounds and bind them before he bleeds out.” 

The two of you work in silence, Steve flinching when Eddie stirs, but he doesn't wake up. When the hole in his side is padded with gauze and tightly bound with bandages, you work on the rest. There's just so many injuries, it's a wonder he's still alive and hasn't bled out yet. 

When it's done, with Eddie patched and bandaged as well as you know how, you collapse onto the floor, hands on your knees. All you can do is wait for him to wake up. That's if he wakes up. If he wakes up as him, and not some mindless beast. 

“Listen, you've done what you can. You're awesome, really.” 

Steve's hand grasps yours on top of your knee. 

“If he's gonna come back for anyone, he'll come back for you.” 

The smile he flashes melts your heart as he gets up to leave. A second later, he returns with a musty blanket and a worn cushion. You take them gratefully and get comfortable on the floor, hoping against hope that your love wakes up. 

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

A roaring growl shatters through your nerves and startles you awake, rocketing through your senses before you have a chance to think. Hot breath blows across your face, messing your hair and making you blink in its turbulence. 

Eddie's on all fours on top of you, crouched low and teeth bared, bindings in tatters all about you. The belt is gone from his jaw; you can only assume he managed to break it with sheer force. A dribble of slobber hangs from his maw; for some reason it's all you can focus on. It wobbles in your vision, as you scramble for some way to get through to him.

He barks roughly, snapping his teeth barely an inch from your face. 

“N-now, you listen to me, Eddie!” 

Your voice squeaks, belying the stern demeanour you're attempting to convey. He growls low, crouching even further over you, giving you an undeniable urge to flee. You can't, not with Eddie on top of you. Not just that, you know deep within your bones that if you attempt to escape, you're dead. 

It suddenly dawns on you that it doesn't matter. You could just throw yourself out there and be eaten. Sure, it'd be painful, but since he's hovering right over your jugular it'd probably be quick. Living without him seems far worse. Or, you might just succeed, and live. 

There's no time for hesitation and pleasantries. So, you grasp the fur around his maw and clutch it desperately, fingers winding into his pelt. His eyes widen, jaw closing slightly, and you take the opportunity to pull his head closer. Your forehead sits flush with his, searching his eyes for any sign of the Eddie you know. 

“Eddie Munson, you listen to me! You know who I am! Can't you smell it? My smell, your smell? You're mine, and I'm yours. You promised you'd come back to me! So do it, come the fuck back to me or I swear I'll kill you myself!” 

Releasing one hand, you pull your t-shirt over your shoulder and show him the mark he left you. 

“You see this? You know what this is? Remember, Eddie!” 

There's a flicker in his hard gaze, a flash of something that just might be your Eddie. Pressing his snout to the mark, he inhales deeply. Then, he's pressing his jaw to yours, nuzzling your neck with his nose. Moving your head to meet his affection, you rub your faces against each other. The tension in the room dissipates as you finally start to see the human behind the beast.

As he pulls his face away, you stare deep in his eyes. 

‘I love you Eddie Munson. I knew you'd come back. You had to, because you love me too. Right?” 

One slow blink. 

Then, he's falling to the floor on his side, seemingly exhausted with the strain. There's no way you'll be able to get him back into the bed, so you throw your blanket around you both and snuggle into his warm pelt before you fall asleep in his arms. 

When you finally wake up, he's still asleep breathing heavily through his nose. The breaths sound much better than before, a stark difference from the heavy, wet sound he was making previously. 

Every joint hurts from sleeping on the wooden floor. You stretch in place, click your elbows, and glance back down at Eddie. 

Even a few hours seems to have helped Eddie with his recovery. The small grazes you didn't bother to cover up are completely healed; just tiny fine lines of scars are all that's left, like the inking of a delicate pen. 

You try to stand up but Eddie's heavy paw is resting on your hip, keeping your back flush to his torso. 

“Eddie,” you whisper, half ashamed to disturb him, “I need to move, my back hurts.” 

One chestnut eye blinks roughly at you then opens, shrivelling from the light pouring through your ad hoc curtains. He's not said a word yet, a fact that is eating your insides up with worry, but you don't mention it. 

He pushes himself off of the floor, managing to stand shakily before flopping to the bed. Even this small movement has him exhausted beyond what should be possible. 

“Eddie, do you want me to get you something to eat? You know, to help the healing?” 

Those soulful deep eyes bore into you, stretching time for just a moment. Then he blinks deliberately at you, twice. 

“No? So, what can I do?” 

Wordlessly, he holds his arms out. You crawl into his embrace as he clutches you to his chest tightly, as if he's scared you'll run away. You couldn't though. Not now, not ever. 

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

After a few hours, he's breathing deeply, and you risk moving to the living space. Once you enter you see Steve and Jonathan there. Nancy climbs out of an armchair and makes her way towards the group, diplomatically standing exactly between them. 

“We didn't want to disturb. How's he doing?” 

Nancy's soft voice breaks the quiet and you allow her a small smile. 

“Great. I mean, he's healing like crazy, seems to be something he can do, and he remembers me for sure. He's not spoken yet, but give him time.” 

She beams at you, then flashes a thousand watt smile at Steve. Shaking her head slightly, apparently at her own actions, she grabs Jonathan's hand and gives it a squeeze. You don't miss the slight frown that flickers on Steve's face, or the little wanton appraising look he gives Jonathan. It's funny, viewing something from an outsider's perspective. They're the perfect little threesone and they don't seem to even know it. 

There's a stirring noise from the bedroom and you run immediately toward it. Eddie's sitting up in bed; it looks like he's trying to inspect the hole in his side with clumsy fingers. 

“Hey, it's OK Eddie, don't touch it. I'm gonna look after you, alright?” 

A flicker of relief passes across his face and he settles down into the mattress, placated. 

You inspect the wound; his recovery is remarkable but there's still a way to go before it's healed. By rights he shouldn't be breathing at all. 

“It looks good, it'll take a while to heal completely but I think you're gonna be alright.” 

A large hand reaches tentatively to your face and cups it, shaking slightly with the effort. His face scrunches, an internal pain crossing it that seems too much to bear. Then, words emerge. 

“...love… you.” 

Instantly welling with tears, you cup his hand in your own. 

“I love you too Eddie. Now sleep, you need to rest. I'll bring you some water, and some food in a while to get your strength back up.” 

He blinks slowly at you, then settles his head back into the mattress, palm dropping from your cheek almost instantly as he falls asleep. You take the cushion from the floor and anchor his head up, slipping it underneath so he doesn't strain his neck. 

Staring at him for a moment looking so peaceful makes your eyes well. Wiping furiously at your face, you disperse the tears and turn towards the doorway. 

“You alright?” 

Steve's standing there, thankfully no longer holding a bat. You nod and walk out of the room with him, after a final glance at Eddie's sleeping form. 

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

Now the danger has passed, the rest of them leave to go get some much needed sleep. The snippets you've been told about the battle for Hawkins sounded bloody and taxing, they all need to recuperate. 

When Eddie starts eating you breathe another sigh of relief. It's a good sign. He seems to be having trouble again with picking things up and using words but it's getting better by the hour. 

Collecting a bucket from outside, you fill it with warm water and grab some soap and a washcloth from the bathroom, then take it to the bedroom. Eddie's sitting up in bed, having just finished a whole chicken. He's licking juices from his furred fingers when you walk in. 

“Hey, that good? Want any more?” 

“Good… forrr now.” 

You smile at him and waddle over with the heavy bucket. Placing it on the ground with a heavy thud, you soak the cloth and add some soap to it. 

“What… doing?” 

“Oh, well you've got too many bandages on for me to clean you in the tub, so I thought I'd wash you in here, if that's alright.” 

Flashing his teeth in the epitome of a wolfish grin, he purrs out a response as he whips off the blanket covering him. 

“Hot nurrrse…. Giving me… sponge bath? Yess please!” 

You roll your eyes but you're smiling as you do it, and help him wriggle out of his sweatpants. He's naked, cock already kicking up with your proximity. 

“This isn't about that, Eddie!” 

“-Orry.” 

“And don't just drop your s'es to be cute, I know you can say them!” 

He gently grasps your hand in his and you melt just a little. 

You start cleaning him as best as you can, tenderly mopping in between the bandages, taking care to remove as much of the crusted blood and grime as possible. 

As you work, you feel his furred finger curl under your chin, guiding you to look at him. 

“Eddie?” 

“You… rrreally carrrre about… mme, don't you?” 

Trying to move out of his grip shyly, he holds your chin firmly waiting for your reply.

“I mean, yes, of course. I told you Eddie, I love you.” 

Damp fingers twine in his thick burly hand. His eyes are on you but seeing through you, deep in thought. You squeeze his fingers in encouragement. 

“What's on your mind, Eddie?” 

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. 

“It's stu-pid… I just thought… when it all ended… when gate closed… I'd go back… be norrrmal.” 

Emotion floods those brandy hued eyes, you force a lump in your throat to go away. 

“Eddie, you've never been normal,” you say, smiling at him, whilst he growls a little chuckle in his throat, “but that's not a bad thing. You're different Eddie. You've always been different. You're odd, and funny, and intense. I love you, and not in spite of those things. Because of them. Because you're you.” 

Eddie roughly rubs a hand over his eyes to disguise the tears. 

“Love you… what the fuck… did I do… to deserrrve you.” 

“Don't know, but it must have been pretty awesome.” 

You smile as you finish cleaning him, drying him off as best as you can, and let him get more rest. It seems each time he naps his healing quickens exponentially, so you encouraged as many as you could. 

It was late evening by the time you saw him again. You had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the TV, curled up wearing Eddie's black t-shirt and nothing else, with a cushion between your knees for comfort. 

There was warm pressure just on the inside of your thigh, a heaviness that for some reason made you feel safe. 

Cracking one eye open, you see Eddie is sitting on the floor facing you, his furred cheek resting on your leg. His snout is just breaching the hem of the t-shirt, dangerously close to your heat. 

“Eddie, what are you doing?” 

He takes a deep breath in and your cheeks flood with embarrassment. 

“I miss-ed you… miss-ed this.” 

“We can't, like, do anything Eddie, not until you're healed.” 

Lifting his head up, he points wordlessly to his side. The bandage has been removed. Amazingly, it's knotted scar tissue; a few tufts of fur are growing on it already. In a few days you'd be surprised if you could even tell the near life threatening blow had even happened. 

“Wow, thats- fuck, that's incredible. You're amazing!” 

He makes a little satisfied noise at the praise and sits up, towering over you on the sofa. 

“So… arrre we good? Forrr… a little game?” 

Tilting your head, you mockingly appraise him, looking him up and down and checking each knot of scars. 

“Well… seems I can give you the all clear. What did you have in mind?” 

Opening his maw, he flicks his tongue over his teeth, and stares at you hungrily. 

“I've got… an i-dea.” 

He stands up and pulls you to your feet, reminding you again of the sheer size of him, and wordlessly leads you to the back door. 

When you're outside, the lack of noise really strikes you. There's not a sound in the woods. An eerie quiet washes over you, making each breath, each heartbeat all the louder. The air is crisp, but not freezing. It nips at your bare legs, trailing goosebumps up your thighs. You look up at the sky; a beautiful array of shining stars fill it, and the moon provides a little light so you can make out the dark shadow of trees about you. It's ethereal and beautiful. 

“It's really pretty Eddie, but what's this got to do with a game?” 

He stands just behind you, firmly grabbing you by your hips as he bends to speak in your ear. 

“We'rrre tied… in ourrr little chases… thought we could…” 

“Out here? In the dark? Eddie what if theres-” 

“Nothings herrre… animals fled frrrom the monsterrrs… can smell. It's just you… and mme.” 

The thought sends a little shiver down your spine, pins and needles rushing from the base of your neck. 

“You like the… i-dea. Can tell.” 

You curse your own body for betraying you, but he's absolutely right. You're already wet just thinking about it and it's starting to dampen your thighs. A heat floods through you, making you forget about the cold. 

“OK… say I'm interested, what are the rules?”

“Two minutes head starrrt… then, when I catch you…” He playfully licks the shell of your ear, “I can do… whateverrr I want.” 

“Within reason?” You say, voice already shaking. 

“Within… rrreason.” 

“Five minutes.” 

“Thrrrree.” 

“Done.” 

Immediately you tear away from his grasp and run, giving him no time to think about it. The forest floor is surprisingly soft under your bare feet, a carpet of pine needles allowing you to run comfortably, unhindered. 

Your ears are occupied by the sound of your own beating heart. It's pumping wildly in your chest, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins, making each decision. You zig zag, double back a little, and turn in a circle, to try and throw him off the scent. A part of you wishes there was a river nearby to help confuse the trail further. Then again, most of you is glad there isn't. It's not like you don't want to be caught. 

A fallen branch makes you trip and you sprawl unseen in the dark. The rush is still there, but you try to be more careful and take a little time looking for anything on the ground that could harm you. Squinting in the dark, you make out a huge stone in front of you which could have seriously injured you. Skirting around it, there's a copse of close together trees to one side. Then, there's an alrighty roar. 

He sounds so close, you must have made less progress than you thought. Dashing for the trees, you enter a little circle of pines and press your back against one panting for breath. You can hear him now. It sounds like he's galloping through the forest on all fours, crashing through branches and twigs like a hot knife through butter. 

You daren’t move, you daren’t breathe. This close there's no chance he won't hear you. Thighs clenching so hard you're in danger of losing blood flow, you feel your slick covering them, nearly slipping apart because of it. It's uncanny; you don't know why your body seems to have this visceral reaction to his presence, but really you don't need to know. All you know is that this feels so right, so natural for you, that it's accepted without hesitation. 

The absence of noise is what makes you jump. One minute there's crashing and breaking branches; the next, silence. You grip onto the rough bark, fingers white knuckling in fervent anticipation. 

You hear him then, soft footfalls crunching and sniffing noises. Keeping your back pressed firmly against the tree trunk, you try to breathe as quietly as you can. Each second that goes by feels like it stretches on for an eternity, as you hear him get closer and closer… and then walk past behind you. Breath leaving you in a gasp, you relax your muscles slightly. 

Until he's directly in front of you, completely naked, the sheer weight of him pressed up against you as he pins both your arms by your sides. His cock is throbbing against your stomach, huge and painfully hard. Bending his head to your level, his snout nudges your ear. 

“I win… you’rrre mmine.” 

He nips at your neck, his sharp teeth breaking the skin. Pain blossoms out from the mark, but it's followed by a wave of pleasure that sends another wash of wetness out of you. 

Eddie growls so deeply that you shiver, and suddenly your world is shooting upward as he grasps you firmly by the ass and lifts you up, your t-shirt riding up to your chest. The hard bark of the tree is pressing into your naked skin as he holds you there like a play thing, claws digging in your flesh. His tongue laps through your folds, tasting you with such ferocity that it makes you moan wantonly, your nails scraping into his scalp, hanging on for dear life. 

Cloying heat is surrounding you, suffocating you. You pull the shirt over your head and toss it in a vain attempt to get some relief but it's no use. Eddie's tongue is buried inside your tight cunt, a dizzying tornado that's making your head spin, but you need more. 

“Fuck- please Eddie, I-I need- oh God- I need you inside me.” 

He lifts your back off of the tree, then slams your spine against the rough wood, expelling all breath from your lungs. He's shaking his head back and forth, long snout rubbing over your clit. A hard no, but it's setting fireworks off inside you all the same. He lets up for a moment, just one, rumbling out words so close to your pussy you feel the warm air of his breath and the vibration of it on your clit. 

“You want me… so bad… then fuckin’ cum. Now.” 

His thumb breaching your weeping sex is a complete surprise. It's just so thick; moving inside you with such animalistic intensity that you're clenching and coming with an obscene scream directed at the heavens. You crumble to ash and dust within his very clutches, the smouldering fire flaming bright and burning all of you, inside and out. 

There's no time to recover, to breathe. He slides you down the tree trunk and onto his waiting member, forcing it inside with barely any warning. Tears spring from the corners of your eyes as he forcibly lifts you by your hips and slams you back down, over and over, his powerful thrusts pulling whimpers out of you. You're just so full, his swollen length pulsing inside, throbbing you to ecstasy. 

The strings tighten inside you, firming the pressure in your belly, which suddenly snaps, dissolving into an intense wave of pleasure that gushes from your hole and threatens to push him out due to its violence. He shudders with you, holding you close and grinding into you, helping you ride it out with almost gentle movements that bely the ferality he displayed only moments ago. Your foreheads touch softly, breaths in tandem. 

For a second you think he's finished. You couldn't be further from the truth. His voice is strained, as if he's trying to keep it under control. 

“You… do that… again.” 

Before you can blink his knuckles are dragging harshly over your clit, back and forth, sending a shiver through your spine on each rough pass. 

“Eddie- oh holy- oh fuuuck!” 

You're barely able to speak, to think. Sentences fail to form, in fact your bordering on drooling at the way he's fucking you dumb. In moments you're clenching around him, walls fluttering uncontrollably as you sob out another release, muscles contracting involuntarily and quivering all over your body. After a while, you realise you're weeping, tears streaming with no barriers to stop them. 

It still doesn't stop Eddie and his violent conquest over your form. He seems intent on owning you, ruining you, taking every last ounce of pleasure out of you to leave you a shattered blubbering mess. It's as if he needs to get his pain and anguish out; it's pouring from him and into each movement of his hips.

“Again.” 

Sobs are bubbling out of your mouth, wet and round, spit gathering at the corners. 

“Eddie, I- I can't-” 

“Again!” 

Then he's pinching your clit hard between thumb and forefinger, as his teeth nip at your breast. The overbearing pain and the zealous pleasure are too much. Shamefully, you release yet again, slick running down your legs and onto the forest floor in a sticky web. 

It's only then that he holds you close, hard arms snaking around your back as your legs shake wildly either side of his hips. His bearish hands grasp you tightly as he throbs his own messy climax deep inside you, roaring loudly, pulsing and pulsing until you've milked him dry. Even then he remains, hard and swollen, locked in and unable to separate. 

His touch is far more gentle now, lifting you by the hips as if you are to be cherished and placing your back softly to the pine needle covered ground. He hovers over you, almost in fear of breaking you, one rough hand stroking at the delicate skin of your cheek. Staring into his eyes, you see the shame harbouring within them.

Before he can speak, you're grasping his furred cheeks and holding his gaze. 

“Eddie, it's OK, honestly. I mean, it was a little rough… but fuck me… that was amazing. You're amazing.” 

He nuzzles into you, deeply breathing in your smell as he cuddles you in the softest embrace. 

“-Orry.” 

“You trying to be cute with me again, Eddie Munson?” 

Your stern words just earn you another squeeze, a slightly tighter hold from his firm arms. For a while you lay there, feeling the other's heartbeat and listening to nothing but the wind between the trees. 

It takes a bit, but the knot finally subsides and you are able to extricate yourselves from its hold. As soon as Eddie's comforting arms are no longer around you, you start to shiver massively. 

“Need.. get you home… climb on.” 

He's on all fours, crouching low in front of you like a tamed lion. 

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” 

There's a soft rumble in his throat that almost sounds like laughter. 

“Get on… beforrrre you frrreeze.” 

You can't really argue with that. 

Hesitating with your knee up high, you're trying to work out where you need to be. You've never ridden a… a wolf? A lion? A monster? Briefly, you think you've never ridden an Eddie, but you blush profusely when you remember that's simply not true.

Finally deciding on swinging your leg over near his waist at the thinnest part of him, you settle into the soft fur. He swings a paw up and grasps your hand, leading it toward the longer hair down his spine. 

“Might want… to hold on… sweet-hearrrt.” 

You twine your fingers delicately into the thicker part of his pelt. That is, until he starts running on all fours through the trees. You grip tightly when you feel the sudden rush of speed, fingers losing blood as you hold on in fear of crashing to the floor. 

Once the initial shock is over, it's electrifying; a thrilling, hedonistic mix of riding a horse and a motorcycle at once. The wind whips through your hair and stings your uncovered skin, making you feel oh so alive. The constant push and pull of powerful muscles beneath you make you realise just how strong Eddie is. It suddenly dawns on you that no matter how rough he's been with you, he's holding back. If he showed you half his power you doubt you'd live to tell the tale. That stark realisation has you falling for him all over again. 

It's that power that seems to flow up from him and through you. You feel like some sort of heathen queen, riding through the forest on your monstrous steed, naked as the day you were born. Wild, savage, and formidable.

Too soon, your impromptu ride is over as he lopes toward the lights of the cabin, eventually coming to a stop. Sliding off of his mighty form, you land on both feet practically buzzing with excitement, caring not a jot for the fact that you were still naked. 

“Eddie, that was incredible! We need to do that again, like, every night. Fuck, I'm shaking!” 

You beam at him, glowing inside and out. 

“If anyone else… said that… I'd bite them. But… it's you. I'll be you’rrre… steed.” 

“You just want me to ride you again.” 

In the short time you've been together, you've gotten used to the subtle signs in his face, in the looks in his eyes, enough to be able to read him. You don't need any of those though, not when his usual whiskey eyes are blackened with desire. 

“You… not done?” 

Grinning profusely, you open the back door and beckon him with your finger. 

“Nope.” 

“You… animal.” 

You laugh; a messy, loud, belly laugh at the pure irony of the situation. 

Walking into the bedroom, you watch him follow you in. There's pine needles stuck in his fur, and mud crusted into his hands and feet. The very air surrounding him is of forests; of damp and bark and moonlight. 

All it's doing is stirring up your insides further. Right now, this heathen queen needs her monster king. 

“Lay down.” 

He huffs lowly, towering over your tiny form. 

“You… telling mme… what to do?” 

“Yes. I am. You got a problem?” 

You push lightly at his chest, making him collapse mockingly onto the bed, face twisted in taunting pain, as if you had caused him serious harm. 

“Don't… hurrrrt mme, prrrincess.” 

“I wasn't going to… hurt you, exactly.” 

You straddle his body, backwards, mouth hovering near his already firm length as your ass swings tantalisingly just out of reach of his drooling maw. 

“Now…. Sweet-hearrrrt, fuuuck… so unfairrr…” 

You can feel the breath expelling from his mouth, the way the sweep of his tongue creates air that is failing to make it between your folds. It makes your cunt throb from the lack of attention, still puffy and drooling from your encounter in the woods. 

You lick a firm stripe from his heavy balls to the tip of his engorged purple member, watching it shiver with the affection. There's a salty, brutish taste to him, mixed with the sweet, feminine tang of you, that makes you want to lick him over and over. Rolling the tip of his weighty length into your mouth, you roll it around with your tongue, licking any trace of you and him together away, to be stored in your memories forever. 

“Sweet-hearrrt… please!” 

He's panting, each short breath firing bursts of air at your cunt. You don't let up, not yet, suckling at his tip, pressing firm kisses to the slit on the tip. He's growling and whining, muscles twitching all over. 

There's no way you can take more than a third of his threatening member into your mouth, but you do what you can, stroking firmly with both hands what you cannot take. Spit dribbles out of your mouth and down to your fisted palms, wetting the rest of his length with soaked, messy need. 

He roars, lion-like behind you, fingers pressing further bruises into your soft flesh. You don't let up, you can't. You need to make him tremble beneath you; to feel those controlling muscles fold under the feel of your mouth. 

The thrust up into your wet lips has you gagging around his length, gargling and spluttering around his thick head. You can't chide him for it, not since the movement sets your insides ablaze with need. 

He curls as hard as his spine will allow; the tip of his tongue ghosting over your slick heat. Quivering, you let up on your assault with your mouth, and twist so you can face him. Whines and whimpers expel from his throat as his thick fingers wind around your waist. Before they can contort into growls and snarls, you sink down onto his slippery cock, all the way to the hilt, as if he were the perfect sword to your tight sheath. 

“Lay back and relax… There's a good boy.”  

Instead of taking control, he gives it to you. A whine, high pitched and needy, rolls out of his mouth. 

Bending down, with him still flush inside you, you press your pretty lips against his slathered maw. Open mouthed kisses are pressed onto his jaw, tongue sneaking in and feeling his pointed fangs delicately. He licks purposely into your mouth, dancing against your tensed muscle. 

Grinding hard into him, his solid weapon presses harshly against your g spot, stars forming in the corners of your eyes. He sits up so he can lace his thick arms around you, as if he needed to be even closer somehow. Responding in kind, you position your legs around him, holding tight as he thrusts up into you. 

Sweat is glistening, dripping down your spine at the proximity of his boiling hot body. Your fingers wind into the thicker fur on his spine as he rocks into you, feeling him in your very core. 

Suddenly he's grasping your hips, about to pull you off him. Whining, you shake your head, forcing yourself back down. 

“I'mm gonna-” 

“I know, please, I need to feel it, fill me up, please!” 

Those words are all it takes for Eddie, pushing him over that precipice, free falling into ecstasy. You join him, plummeting into your own release as the feel of his knot consumes you. 

For a while you hold each other, the only clue that time had failed to stop being your panting breaths. Your head is snuggled into the soft coat of his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head. As his hardness finally begins to subside you still remain, the sanctitude of the moment ongoing. It feels as if it will be an ongoing memory to play on a loop in the back of your mind, forever. 

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

The following two weeks flew by in a hum buzz of activity. You're pulling shift after shift at the hospital and helping out at the emergency shelter when you can. The town is pulling together, trying to heal and coming to terms with what will forever be a little bit broken. 

Eddie's mood has been in a shifting, unstable state since the night he defeated Vecna. The nightmares were the worst part of it; on more than one occasion you've had to physically hit him to get him to wake up and stop thrashing in panic on the bed. You try to soothe with words, soft touches and kindness. It's helping, but you know he's got a long way to go. 

Being busy has helped. He and Hopper have come to form an odd friendship. To his credit, Hopper never treated Eddie any different despite his appearance. In fact, he said he's one of ‘Hawkins’ finest upstanding citizens’, since he can't go out and cause trouble. It's not like he can be the town's weed supplier, after all. 

Eddie needed something to do. Hopper understood that deeply, he explained, from his own past traumas and grief. So, he started towing cars to the cabin, getting Eddie to fix them up and send them back as an impromptu mechanic. Fixing things and earning a little money have certainly improved his mood. When he wasn't doing that he was working on the cabin which was starting to feel like home. 

You're on your way there right now. After the conversation you had with Hopper this morning, a huge smile is glued to your face. 

Approaching your home, you see Eddie outside working on a car. When he sees you he bounds over, grabbing the two enormous suitcases you've been struggling with and lifting them with ease. 

“What's all… this?” 

“Take them inside, I've got some news.” 

He does as you ask, depositing them on the floor before he holds you close, snout breathing in your scent at the crook of your neck. 

“Eddie, I spoke with Hopper. He's agreed to give us the cabin for nothing. I just gave away my apartment, so I can stay here with you.” 

Eddie barks with delight, picking you up and spinning you around. You giggle, holding onto his shoulders. He presses his maw to your tummy, breathing you in. 

When he puts you down on the floor, there's a queer look in his eye. 

“Eddie, something wrong?” 

Shaking his head, he falls to his knees so he can look you in the eyes as he holds both your hands in one enormous paw. 

“Not wrrrong… differrrrent. We'll need the cabin, forrr all of us.” 

You tilt your head, confused. 

“What do you mean? There's only me and you.” 

Staring at you as if to gauge your reaction, he presses one bearish hand to your stomach reverently. The hint isn't lost on you, eyes widening in disbelief. 

“Eddie, are you saying that you think I'm… pregnant?” 

One slow blink. 

Legs wobbling, you sit on the floor in front of him. 

“I'm on birth control, I mean, surely I can't be… are you sure?” 

Eddie taps his nose. 

“I'm sure. Is it… a prrroblemm?”

Searching your thoughts you realise it isn't. It really isn't. There's nothing you want more than to spend your life with him, to have a family, no matter what that looks like.

“No, not at all. It's a little… fast, but I want this.” 

Holding your cheek with his rough hand, he makes sure you keep your eyes trained on him. 

“Are you surrre? What… if it's…” 

He gestures to himself, in all his monstrous glory. Cupping his hand on your face, you shake your head.

“I don't care if we have a baby, or a-a cub, or a pup, as long as it's yours and mine.” 

He holds you then, softly and close as you twine your fingers into his thick pelt. 

A life lies before you, one that you couldn't have possibly predicted. A fairytale life; one where the monster gets the girl, and gets the happily ever after. 

Taglist (if you want to be added/removed please PM me)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

[ourautumn86]

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡

Joseph Quinn x Fem! reader PT.1

✧ Synopsis;; Joseph Quinn was filthy rich, for he was royalty. Handsome, charming and a gentleman, a dream dressed in pure silk for any kind of woman. But not you.

✧ y/n is a mere slave of a nobel family who just turned 18. On the night of the prince’s royal ball she is dragged against her will to this dance just to be used as a coat rack for the purses and coats of the family ladies, who, of course, treat her like absolute sh’t, to the point where they could agreed to hand her over for a generous amount of gold.

“Just name your price, sweetheart.”

“Screw you, my prince.”

Just how lucky you were for had caught the

prince’ s attention!

< enemies to lovers 3

17th century royalty!

ATTENTION!! this is not Arthur Havisham, i only used the photo cause it resembles the appearance i want to give Joseph in this story. I would never use Arthur since he’s not attracted to females!!!

A/N;; i’m sorry if this is sloppy and like…, BAD, english is not my mother language and it’s my first joseph x reader story. either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!!!

CW;; this series might include 18+ content (details will be given at the start of each new part uploaded) MINORS DNI AND SKIP!!!

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

WARNINGS PART ONE: mention of blood, abuse, cursing and slave trafficking.

WORD COUNT;; 2k!

(A/N pt.2; it is much enjoyable(??) if you read it with a british accent since this fic takes placed in the U/K)

:¨·.·¨:

`·. lastly; enjoy! <3

Her faced seemed to tell everything: she hated it.

She hated everything. From the music, to the little stupid shoes that clacked against the floor. The floral scent, the wine, the giggles… She hated the ton*. Every single one of them,

Everything. It was a goddamn nightmare.

“y/n! You are letting my coat slip! Do i have to tell you how much it costs?! If you dare let it touch the floor I’ll take the money out of your poor allowance to pay for a new one!” one of the misses glared at you, hitting you in the face with her closed paper fan, its gemstones leaving marks on you cheek.

“We might as well do it anyways, since her filthy hands have touched them already!” her sister laughed, grabbing your face in between her gloved fingers and digging her nails in your skin. “Don’t you think so, y/n? What? Cat got you tongue?” they giggled.

“Children, children!” the woman of the house hushed them with a sweet smile. “You shall never touch her!” she said, taking of the gloves out of her daughters hands to give her a new pair, with a sweet smile telling one of the servants of the castle to burn them. “God knows what she might infect us with!” she laughed, her offsprings following her.

God, you hated her. Her and her stupid daughters. With their stupid dresses and stupid painted faces.

You glared at them, your grip tightening around their belongings, holding your stare and your head up even when the woman stared back at you, her face scrunching in disgust and anger.

“Who do you think you are staring at?!?!” she suddenly yelled, catching the attention of those who enjoyed drinks and company around her, not waiting a mere second to rise her hand and slap you to ‘show you your place’. You took the hits, the metallic flavor of blood filling your mouth due to the continues smacks and hits with the back of her fan. “You filthy ungrateful bitch, you dare stare at us? Who give you food and a bed?! I should’ve let you died out in the cold, in the dirt, where you belong to!” you gritted your teeth, your eyes down to the floor as your free hand made its way to your bottom lip, where you felt the skin split, the crimson of fresh blood tinting your frail skin.

“Fucking fussock*.” you cursed her under your breath, loud enough for her to perfectly hear you.

“What did you say?!” her free hand gripped your long and matted locks, making you look staring into her enraged eyes, her other hand rising up to hit you once again.

Your eyes closed as you expected a new slap, which surprisingly enough never came. The sound of multiple gasps filled your ears and when you opened up your eyes once again, your stomach sank at the sight of…

“Your highness!” everyone suddenly diverted their eyes to the floor, including you, your mistress and her daughters bowed in his presence, the wrist of the first of them all gracefully and softly held by the prince’s, who let her go with a kind smile.

“Is everything alright?” his voice tested the waters, his tone low and soft as the silk he dressed in, his hands jeweled in silver rings joining and intertwining in an elegance you never had witnessed.

“Yes, your highness.” the woman stuttered, showing a nervous smile. “Our slave just seemed to…, misbehave, your highness.” your eyes travelled trough his tall and magnificent demeanor. His crimson blood suit matched perfectly with the snow of his skin and his brown and perfectly combed curls.

Your eyes quickly darted always as he had caught you staring once he had turned to you. He fought the lopsided smirk that urged to grow in his lips, stepping closer to where you stood.

He took a glance at the ragged clothes that hid your bruised and malnourished body, probably due to the family’s treatment under your care, your matted hair, cut up hands…

His warm touch spread on your skin as he took your chin in between his thumb and index finger, softly trying to rise your head up, but you denied him, in a harsh turn of head freeing yourself from his touch before giving him a glare.

A new wave of gasps filed the air as you stared right into his eyes, him holding your glare.

You didn’t care if he was a noble or pure royalty. Those ‘pure blood’ were all the goddamn same. With their leather shoes and gold jewelry, fancy words and silk dresses and suits. Their appearance was only a pretty facade that hid the ugliness of their insides.

You hated all of them. Might as well just get your head off as soon as possible.

“You slave! How is it ye dare to stare at the prince, soon king?!” a blonde and tall man talked, you recognized him as the pince’s right hand, but only with a wave of this hand, he stood silent beside the prince.

“Huh…” the smile he had been trying to fight off finally took place on his gracefully sculpted face and full rosy lips. “Interesting.” once again he took a soft grasp to your face, this time not letting you go even if you fought him off. His eyes took everything your face offered him, from your perfect nose to you long eyelashes and your beautiful fierce eyes, which stared at him with pure hatred and anger. “How much?” he suddenly asked, still not drifting his eyes away from you.

The woman stood frozen in place, just like her daughters.

“What does your highness mean with…-”

“How much would you want for her?” he cut her off, the deadly silent that fell on the salon almost giving you chills.

What was he saying?

“Your highness, I can’t…” she was short of breath and words. “I surely doubt thee would want her under your care, she…”

“I don’t care about any of it. Name a price.” everyone was shocked by the situation. Buying and selling slaves was something quite common, that’s how your current ‘family’ have got you, but this…

The prince? Has he gone nuts?

“Your highness, I don’t think…” the prince’s counselor stepped in, shutting up once again as soon as he gave him a glance.

“50 gold coins.” the woman suddenly blurted out, everyone’s jaws dropping at the audacity of the woman and such large figure.

“Mother!” her offsprings whispered-yelled. Not believing her words.

50 gold coins?!

You scoffed, smirking at such nonsense, not noticing the staring of the prince due to your reaction.

She wished you were worth that much. He would never…

“Make it 150.” he closed the deal.

“Your highness!” the counselor exclaimed, completely alarmed.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Ballard.” he hushed the blonde.

You watched as the woman who once abused you and starved you for days fainted due to the prince’s words and his daughters kneeling down to help her followed by some of the nearby guests, fanning her pale sleeping face.

You too felt like fainting.

“Hey, eyes on me, sweetheart.” the prince caught your attention once again, when your eyes met a smile growing on his lips. “All you need to do from now on keep your eyes on me.”

“Get off of me!” you screamed at the servants that tried and strip you out of your clothes, pushing their hands away. “I said stop!”

“Miss, they’re orders from your highness.” one of them spoke, his blue eyes soft on you. “He wanted us to help you bathe and and get rid of your dirty clothes.” she explained.

“I don’t care about what he said.” you scoffed. “If he wanted me undressed so fast why isn’t he the one taking my clothes off?” they all gasped at your words and no respect to the prince.

You didn’t care though, they were all the same anyways. Always reaks* that just wanted to have women swoon at their feet. Maybe that’s why he had bought you, just to use you when his cock got cold.

Suddenly, the door on your back opened, the heads of the servants quickly lowering as your eyes met the prince’s.

“Oh, fantastic…” you muttered. Just what you needed at the moment.

“You heard her, ladies. You are all dismissed.” he smiled at every and each one of them, bowing and moving aside with a swing of his arm on the door to let them out, all of them bowing and giggling.

And weren’t you just right?

“Great. And what do I have the honor of your highness’ presence for?” you sarcastically inquired him once he had closed the door behind his back, noticing…, ‘Ballard’ outside. “Got too excited due your new acquisition to just wait?” you mocked him.

“I heard you were putting up a fight.” he smiled, ignoring your words whilst looking at you up and down. “Is there something not to your liking, perhaps?”

“‘Not to my liking’?” you scoffed. “I can’t believe thee.” you shook your head, grasping at your locks as you stared at him in disbelief. “How about this whole goddamn situation? I mean, look at this!” you pointed out everything that surrounded you, the whole bathroom with a gigantic bathtub of quartz, marble floors and pillars… “A few hours ago I was being used as a coat hanger in your ball and now I’m in a bathroom with the prince, who, surprisingly enough, bought me for 150 golden coins god knows why?!” you exclaimed.

He stared at you with a funny look in his eyes. His back against the door as his eyebrows raised at you.

“What.” you spit out, a glare in your eyes.

“Nothing, is just that…” he stepped closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest. “You don’t seem to…, respect me.” he frowned, his voice low. “Not like all of them.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, your highness, for not being another dog licking your leather boots.” you bowed, more of his steps growing closer to you until his thumb took your chin, rising your head up so you could meet his eyes, his face stood serious for a couple of seconds, before a downside smirk grew on his factions. “Why haven’t you cut my head off yet?” you inquired him, not really understanding his behavior. By the way you treated him, any other prince would have already gotten you to the guillotine.

“Why shall I?” he answered with another question, his thumb caressing the wound on your bottom lip, the still fresh blood that stood on it staining his thumb as you hissed in pain, getting away.

You stared at him in confusion.

Yeah. He was absolutely nuts.

“The water will go cold if you don’t get in soon.” he said, drifting off the matter while whipping off your blood from his thumb with his handkerchief. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off those ragged clothes?”

“This is the only dress I’ve had, sir.” you said, his eyes meeting yours.

“What’s your favorite color?” you frowned at his sudden question, which made absolutely no sense. He made no sense. “Crimson, like the purest blood? The forest’s green? The ocean’s blue, perhaps?”

“I’ve never seen the forest nor the ocean, sir. I’ve never left the capital. Though I find the sky’s blue on spring pretty wonderful, not sure it does justice to the ocean’s.”

“It doesn’t.” he said, sitting in the edge of the bathtub, his fingers taunting the warm water. “The ocean is cold, and fierce…, untamable. But it can also be warm, and calm, and soft.” he tried to explain, and from your point of view it didn’t make sense.

It didn’t make sense but you found it…

“It must be beautiful.” you said, him flashing you a soft smile before nodding.

“It is.” he got up clapping his hands together before looking back at you. “Well then, you should really hurry up, the water is perfect.”

“I already told thee, this dress is the only-“

“You won’t need it anymore.” he cut you off.

“And why is that?” you inquired, his steps growing closer to you.

“Because from now on…” he said, catching one of your locks in between his fingers. “You belong in this castle.”

To be continued…

*fussock; a lazy fat woman…, a frowzy old woman.

*the ton; the ton actually refers to English high society during the Regency era, and encompasses every aristocrat from the royals to the gentry.

*rake; ‘rake’ is used to describe an immoral, hedonistic young man circulating in high society.

[munsonsduchess]

Girls Got Rhythm

summary: eddie fucks you in his van after a show w/c: 2206 warnings: 18+ only no minors, praise, swearing, oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (you're smarter than that), slight spoilers for Vol 2 authors note: so how are we feeling Eddie Nation? That season finale was ... something huh? Anyway this is probably going to be the first of quite a few fix it fics from me because like Nick Fury said "I recognise that the council has made a decision, but given that it's a stupid ass decision I've elected to ignore it" Not beta'd all mistakes are my own and add flavour. We die like heroes. Please reblog it really helps me out!!

(moodboard by me)

The atmosphere in the bar was electric, bands had been playing all night and now finally it was Eddie's turn, they were the headline act in the Hideout that night. Long gone were the days of playing to five drunks and a group of hicks that wouldn't know good music if it slapped them in the face. 

Turns out being wanted for and then acquitted of murder was actually something of a reputation builder in the metal music community. It gave Eddie a kind of street cred he didn't have before and now people were coming from all over to watch Corroded Coffin play.

Throughout it all though he had you, his number one fan. As you'd tell him again and again. You'd been there through Spring Break 86, through Vecna, him almost being mauled alive by those demobat things. You'd never once left him or dipped out when things got out of control and there you were now standing right in front of the stage in possibly the most sinful outfit you could have conjured. Eddie felt his cock stir in his jeans just looking at you, of course that was a pretty regular occurrence on its own but seeing you standing there with your homemade Corroded Coffin  shirt, the shortest mini skirt imaginable not to mention your legs wrapped in fishnets leaving nothing to the imagination and Eddie didn't have to imagine what was waiting for him underneath that skirt. 

You smiled up at him as he took his place front and centre on the stage, the spotlight shining on him giving his fuzzy brown curls a halo which was at odds with the devilish smirk on his lips as he began playing. The crowd had been waiting for this all night and they were going wild for Eddie and for the band, this was everything either of you could have wanted. You'd both remember this moment in time for the rest of your lives. 

It hadn't been easy getting here, putting in hours in the bar waitressing and behind the bar. It was really the only place that would hire you both since you'd made it abundantly clear that unless both of you were hired then neither of you would work wherever it was and having been rejected by everywhere else you'd applied for, even the video store which Harrington assured you both would be an easy place to get hired, you were more than willing to put in whatever hours the management of the bar needed you to if it meant for one night a month Eddie could stand on that stage like the Rock Star he was always meant to be and play to his devoted fans. Even if most of them only came to see the guy accused of murder in such a small town. 

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

After the set you knew Eddie would be helping the rest of the band carry the equipment back to his van since as big as they were in Hawkins no one else was going to help them carry their gear. Sure enough you found Eddie stood by the stage door slash delivery entrance. HIs hair was stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck with sweat but the smile on his face told you that he couldn't care less about that,

"Hey, can I get an autograph? I'm your biggest fan" you called to get his attention, "honest I am" 

"Baby you can have anything you want" Eddie grinned at you holding his arms open so you could slot yourself against him, "anything at all" 

"Anything?" 

"Name it" 

"Well in that case" you leant up on tiptoe to kiss Eddie softly, the leather in your boots squeaking as you did so, "you looked so good up there baby" 

"You look better" Eddie said, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, "couldn't keep my eyes off you. I thought I was gonna have to jump off the stage at one point and let everyone know you're mine" 

"I think the amount of hickies you leave should tell people that" 

"Yeah but then you cover up all my hardwork with these" Eddie laughed, his fingers playing with your necklaces, "I think I'm gonna have to prove it again" 

You didn't need to ask what he meant. You could feel how hard he had gotten through his jeans and you'd be lying if you  said watching him on the stage hadn't had the arousal dripping down your own thighs. You loved watching him play whenever, wherever and tonight was certainly no different.

"So what are we waiting for?" 

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You had thought that perhaps Eddie would have told the rest of the guys that he'd arrange another way for them to get their stuff out of the bar that he'd take you home to your crappy little one room apartment and the murphy bed that squeaked so much your neighbour thought it was an infestation of some kind. 

You should have known better. Why would Eddie bother driving all the way home when his van was right there? 

Which is how you found yourself on your back with your skirt pushed up around your hips while Eddie knelt between your legs, eyes dark and hooded as he stared at your exposed pussy,

"Baby? No panties?" he breathed, casting his eyes upwards for a second to catch the way you bit your bottom lip as his fingers slipped through the mesh of your tights and ran through the slick forming between your thighs, "you're already so wet, is this all for me?" 

"All for you Eddie, love you" 

"I love you too sweetheart, I'm gonna love you so much" 

Before you could form a sentence your brain short circuited with the sound of Eddie ripping your tights and giving himself better access to your dripping pussy. You let out a moan when he used two ring clad fingers to swipe through your folds collecting your slick and using it to push a finger into your warm wet entrance.

A few mumbled obscenities fell from Eddie's lips as he watched his finger being sucked back into your waiting cunt again and again. How your hips bucked and searched for more, he never got enough of seeing you like this. 

Adding another finger he watched as you writhed beneath him, Eddie used his thumb to swipe against your clit and reveled in the broken moan that bubbled out of your throat. He knew he wasn't going to last long but he wanted to be sure you at least got off once before he did,

"Eddie, wanna feel you" you begged, "please baby, just wanna feel you" 

"Ssh it's gonna be ok" Eddie reassured you before readjusting his position so he could lay between your legs and lick a stripe up your weeping cunt. Removing his fingers so both hands could grab at your hips and bring your core closer to him. 

Eddie loved to go down on you. Loved the way your hips moved on their own and tried to ride his face. Loved the whimpers and moans and cries of his name you made as he tongue fucked your entrance, his fingers drawing fast circles on your swollen clit.

Your hands found purchase in his curls as Eddie sucked on your clit, his tongue drawing obscure patterns as your hips moved in a rhythm all their own chasing the high you could feel coiling in your gut. That white hot heat spreading through your veins as Eddie curled his fingers inside you hitting that spot that had you seeing stars and clenching around his fingers like a vice ,

"So good for me" Eddie praised, his fingers slowing their movements before pulling out. You held yourself up on your elbows long enough to see Eddie cleaning off his fingers before releasing them with a wet pop, "god you taste fucking amazing" 

"Eddie - " 

"It's ok love. I just - I need you ok?" 

You nodded, this is what you'd wanted too while you watched him on that stage. Your legs squeezed together as you dripped slick onto the floor of the bar, which wouldn't be the worst thing cleaned off that floor tonight all things considered. 

You reached out and helped Eddie to undo his belt buckle and the zip on his jeans. He was painfully hard and he needed to be buried inside you. To feel those velvet walls clamp around his cock was the closest feeling to heaven Eddie was sure he would ever experience. 

He shimmed out of his jeans enough to push them around his ankle, you noticed he'd also chosen to go commando tonight although that might have more to do with the fact that both of you had been ignoring the every growing pile of dirty laundry in your apartment but you didn't care what his reasoning was. Right now all that mattered was there were less pieces of clothing between the two of you getting what you wanted. 

Eddie lined himself up to your entrance and leant down to kiss you as he pushed himself inside. Both of you grabbing at the other, your  kisses all tongues and teeth as Eddie bottomed out inside you, he waited for a moment so you could adjust until you rolled your hips to signal him to start moving. 

Neither of you was interested in taking this slow it would  seem as Eddie set a brutal pace almost right away. Pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in harshly filling you up to the brim each time. His tip kissed your cervix as he searched for that spot inside he'd reached with his fingers earlier. The spot that had you clawing at his back, thanking whatever gods that he'd chosen to play that night in a loose black tank top instead of his usual layers of shirts and jackets. 

The sounds of moaning and skin slapping against skin filled the back of the van and you were sure people would have noticed the movement inside from the outside but if anyone did notice what you two were up to they said nothing. 

You could feel that coil in your stomach tightening again as Eddie's cock brushed against your sweet spot,

"M'close Eddie" you gasped, "m'so close" 

"Cum for me sweetheart" he breathed into your ear as his fingers circled your clit harshly once again drawing your climax. You clenched around him as your back arched and you came with a cry of his name on your lips.

With your sweet walls milking him for all he was worth Eddie's own release wasn't far behind yours as he filled you with his hot spend. Your walls fluttered around him as warmth spread through your limbs, nothing but fog and static in your brain as your orgasm took a hold of your body. 

When you came back down you found Eddie knelt between your legs again, polaroid in hand as he snapped a picture of your mixed release dripping out of your puffy pussy, "so fucking beautiful" 

When he had taken enough pictures Eddie sat the camera back down before gently using his index and ring  fingers to scoop up your mixed fluids and push them back into your swollen cunt, 

"Eddie" you whined, 

"I know sweetheart I know" he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek before fishing some cigarettes out of the glove box, lighting one and offering it to you which you took gratefully. 

Eddie watched as you inhaled the smoke before exhaling it in small clouds. He loved watching you smoke, loved the way you held the cigarette so carefully in poised fingers, the way you'd close your eyes when you drew in and the way you exhaled because you'd seen Frenchie do it in Grease and taught yourself to exhale exactly like she did.

"You're staring Eds" you teased, breaking him out of his revelry, "my tits aren't even out" 

"Do I need an excuse to stare at my beautiful girlfriend?" he shot back, his smile lighting up the small space between you, "that's what I thought" 

You laughed and Eddie wondered if he could record the sound and just play it forever, like the Mayfield kis and her Kate Bush tape,

"Hey, I was thinking" you said, sitting upright and stretching slightly to alleviate the kink in your back from being railed in the back of the van, "you wanna see that vampire movie tomorrow? Since we're both off" 

"Whatever you want Princess" Eddie agreed instantly, he would do anything she asked of him,

"Good cause Steve wanted to double date with this girl he's been seeing - " Eddie cut you off with a loud groan and flopped dramatically onto the floor of the van, 

"Why do we have'ta go with Harrginton? Why can't it just be us?" 

"Tell you what if you say yes to this I'll say yes to anything you want to do tonight when we get home" 

"Anything?" 

"Anything" 

"Oh you're on princess, you're on" Eddie's eyes sparkled with mischief and you laughed again.

 God you loved this over dramatic dork. 

[songforeddiemunson]

Homeward Bound for Christmas

Eddie Munson x Reader (College years AU)

Summary: You bring your college boyfriend to your childhood home to meet your mom for the Holidays

Drabble warnings: course language, smut, fluff, humor. Overall, this is a sweet, naughty little drabble.

Word Count: 1.5K

You were dying to bring Eddie home to meet your mother. He had put it off for ages, insisting that he wasn’t parent material, but you knew better. Your mom had been at Woodstock. She was still a hippie and was as progressive as one could get, and was accepting of all diversity and differences. In fact, she celebrated them. She wouldn’t care that he was an outcast, or grew up poor, or had long hair; all the things that had made Eddie feel ostracized at Hawkins High. She was responsible for some of the best parts of yourself, and you repeatedly tried to reassure Eddie of this before he finally relented.

“Fine, fine,” he gave in. “But I’m going to fuck you in your old bedroom.”

You sputtered on the coffee you had just sipped. “Eddie!” you said, laughing as you mopped the front of your shirt with a napkin.

“What?” Eddie replied, nonplussed. “Quid-pro-quo madam. If I’m going to have to be uncomfortable, you’re going to have to pay the ferryman.”

“You won’t be uncomfortable once you meet her, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” you sighed. “You’re going to love each other.”

Eddie shrugged. “I guess we’ll see about that.”

When you arrived at your mom’s house-- which was fully decked for the holidays with all manner of pretty, twinkling lights-- she opened the door and enfolded you into a hug before turning to your boyfriend. “You must be Eddie,” she said, and embraced him warmly. His expression was one of pleasant surprise; he wasn’t used to being accepted, and your eyes welled up to see it. Apart from his incredible Uncle Wayne, Eddie didn't have much in the way of parental figures in his life. Even though he never admitted it out loud, you suspected it had left a bit of a hole in his heart, and it made you sad. Perhaps your family could help repair it.

Before the night was over Eddie and your mom were in the kitchen, laughing wildly at each other’s jokes and dusted liberally with flour. They were baking Christmas cookies together. 

“Did Y/N ever tell you about the time she fell out of a tree and banged her face?” your mom started.

“Mom, no,” you groaned, and you covered your face in your hands.

Eddie threw his head back and laughed heartily. “You…you…banged your face?” he sputtered before dissolving into hysterics.

“Oh yes,” your mom continued. “It was right before prom too. You should have seen her. All black and blue. I believe I have pictures….”

“Mom! No pictures!” you yelled while Eddie jumped up and down, clapping and chanting, “get the pictures get the pictures get the pictures…”

Later, your mom handed Eddie a pillow and a clean blanket. “I’ve made up my son’s old room so you can sleep there. I may be a cool mom, but I draw the line at you sharing a bed.”

“Oh sure, thanks so much,” Eddie said, but his eyes flicked to you, and you returned his look with a shrug.

Upstairs, Eddie stopped you in the hall on the way to the bathroom. “You’re right, I do love your mom. I’m just not used to that sort of thing.” He ran a hand through his hair, and he looked a little embarrassed. 

“I told you so,” you said, raising yourself up to give him a quick kiss.

“But I’m still gonna fuck you in that bed,” he said, and ran into the bathroom and shut the door, cutting off his giggles. You went to your room, shaking your head, but smiling.

You were just beginning to drift off to sleep when you heard your door creak open, and a thin sliver of light slashed across the room.

“Whaa?” you mumbled sleepily.

“Shhh!” You heard the door click shut. The springs screeched in protest as Eddie sat at the edge of the bed.  The room was very dark, and you could only make out his shape vaguely as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Eddie, what–” he interrupted your query with his lips, and it was the first time he had really kissed you since you arrived at your mom’s house. You relaxed into it and returned the kiss deeply.  After a moment, he broke away.

“I told you I was going to sneak in here.”  There was a brief period of rustling, and he threw the covers back and climbed into the bed, laying on top of you. 

“Eddie!” you hissed.  "What if she hears?  This bed is noisy as hell, and my mom’s room is right down the hall…“

"I can hear your mom snoring babe. Don’t worry, we’ll be quiet.”

You sighed in resignation and Eddie chuckled, burying his face into the crook of your neck to mask the sound, which tickled and set you off to giggling as well.

"This is ridiculous.  I feel like I’m in high school,” you whispered between giggles.

“Why, what did you do in high school? On second thought, don't tell me.” Eddie asked, and this time you both laughed harder, and you had to pull the covers over your heads.

After the giggling died away, Eddie resumed kissing you, and you did indeed feel like you were back in high school. His hands roamed your body, sliding up your shirt and over your breasts, pausing to play with your nipples. The manner in which you were making out– fervently and with an almost teenage clumsiness due to your environment– took you back to the days when everything you did had the potential for getting you into trouble.  It was exciting, and you were becoming extremely aroused.  

Eddie slid his hand into your underwear and began to rub your clit.  He circled the sensitive bundle of nerves gently, deftly, and highly effectively. You moaned softly into his mouth as you grew more and more aroused with every second, and your entire body thrummed with excitement.  You slid your hand down into his sweatpants, and began pumping him rhythmically. He stiffened his back in response, and you could feel his breaths growing quicker. He slipped two fingers into your heat, forcing you to stifle a squeal; you were getting pretty close to the edge already. You struggled to wiggle out of your underwear, which was not an easy task in your attempts to keep the bed quiet.

When you were free of your knickers, you wrapped your legs around his trim waist, and Eddie shoved down his sweatpants enough to free himself; the bed springs protesting loudly as he squirmed to position himself.  "Oh god, hurry up,“ you gasped, and then he slid inside of you, filling you.  He held still for a moment and allowed you to enjoy the sensation of being completely connected before he began to slowly thrust in and out.  

"Ah,” you gasped,  "Oh...my...god…“  Perhaps it was the danger of the situation enhancing your excitement, because you felt like you were about to explode. You were a powder keg set aflame, every touch felt heightened, any touch sending sparks through every nerve; you could immolate on the spot and die happy.

"Shh,” Eddie shushed between thrusts but it was a halfhearted attempt; he felt the same excitement and heightened arousal you did. He was attempting not to pump too hard, as the springs were being noisy enough already, but he couldn’t help himself from increasing the pressure and pace– it just felt too damned good to hold back.  

“Eddie– fuck–” you panted, and then bit down on his shoulder to stifle the screams you felt were going to burst out of you any second.  Eddie hissed at the sudden pain, but it only caused him to fuck into you harder and deeper.  It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, for that proverbial coil to snap, and you bucked your hips as a particularly intense orgasm hit you.  Your body spasmed as your climax washed over you, and you focused on not crying out, whining against Eddie's shoulder instead. Eddie's own orgasm arrived only a moment later, and he whimpered softly as he slammed his pelvis into yours once…twice…three more times as he pumped his conclusion into you.

He lay atop you for a moment while the two of you caught your breath.  You were flushed and ecstatic; you were here with your love, and he was happier than you had seen him in ages. You trailed your fingers lazily up and down his back as he recovered, and you peppered his face with kisses.

“Okay,” he whispered with a chuckle, “I guess I should head back, as soon as my legs work again.”

You returned the chuckle as he slid out of you and pulled up his sweatpants. “Goodnight,” he said, and you could feel his smile behind the sweet kiss he planted on your lips. "I love you. Merry Christmas babe."

You thought your heart might explode into a thousand glittering butterflies. "Merry Christmas Eddie, I love you too."

The next morning at breakfast, the two of you sat side by side, nibbling toast and jam and sipping coffee.

Your mom came into the kitchen, sleepily rubbing her eyes.

“Decided to sleep in?” you said.

“Well it’s the damnedest thing,” she said, giving you a look and your stomach dropped. “That bed of yours is just so squeaky, I couldn’t get any sleep. We really should tighten the screws on that thing.”

This time it was Eddie who sputtered his coffee.

MASTERLIST

Author's Note: I want to write more drabbles, so if you have prompts, please send them in!

I don't have a general taglist, but if you would like me to start one and add you, just let me know!

As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of every fic writer. :)

[will-on-the-internet]

Always Waiting | Eddie Munson

Summary: What if Eddie survived, and instead of mourning for him, you waited by his side, hoping he'd wake up? You'd always wait for Eddie, even if no one else would. HENDERSON!READER

Warnings: HEAVY SPOILERS FOR S4! Swearing, mention of violence and death, food!

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: This is the first SFW piece I've done for Eddie, and of course, it had to be hurt/comfort. I hope you enjoy it!

PLEASE REBLOG FOR MORE EDDIE MUNSON FICS

You never liked hospitals, never liked the plain rooms and shiny laminate floors. You hated how much sorry was trapped within the walls, and you could never bear to hear the pained cries of someone who’d just lost a loved one. But, for a whole week, you sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, next to an ordinary hospital bed, praying and wishing that the person sleeping, would wake up.

It had been a week since the events of Hawkins and the upside down, since you and your friends fought Vecna, and most importantly, it was a week since Eddie was nearly massacred by the bats, left lying on the ground and covered in blood. Everyone else got out of the upside down relatively unscathed, but Eddie was barely breathing when Dustin and Steve got him to safety, barely getting him to the hospital in time.

When he got here, the doctors were horrified when they looked at the open wounds covering Eddie’s torso, some of them already infected by the poisonous air from the other dimension. They were shocked he was alive, and even more shocked when he started to recover, kept company by the constant visits from the Hellfire Club, Steve, Robin, Max and most often, you.

You had hardly left his side, only going home when visiting hours ended, to get a few hours of sleep and freshen up with a shower. You knew that everyone was worried about you as much as they were worried about Eddie, but they also knew you wouldn’t leave him in such a vulnerable state after everything that happened.

“C’mon Henderson, I’m taking you home tonight. Everyone was gonna grab some pizza at mine.” Steve’s hand is on your shoulder, squeezing it gently to shake you out of your thoughts, and though you knew he meant well, you couldn’t help but scoff and look at him.

“Sure, I really wanna eat pizza while my boyfriend is barely alive in a hospital. Such a good idea, Harrington.” Steve frowns, a look of hurt washing over his face, but he sighs and shakes his head, understanding that you were tired and worried and feeling so helpless.

No one knew if Eddie was going to wake up, the doctors couldn’t tell if the infection had affected his brain and led him to gain brain damage, but with him being able to breathe on his own, they were set on letting hope run its course. And Steve did feel bad, he thought they’d won against Vecna and saved Hawkins once again until he found Dustin with Eddie’s body.

Eddie had tried to be a hero, tried to be everything most people in Hawkins thought he could never be, and it had nearly cost him his life. So you sat and waited, watching over him as Dustin talked to him about an idea for a D & D campaign, Robin nattered about her taste of music, and Steve sat and waited with you, trying to keep you afloat too.

“Look, I know you want to stay here, kid…but you’re exhausted, you haven’t had a decent meal in days, and you need a break from this place.” Steve’s looking at you then, crouched to your level and pleading with you to take a break, get some air and let loose some of the tension caught in your shoulders.

Then you both heard it, a small cough. Neither of you took much notice, thinking maybe it was caused by another patient who shared the ward with Eddie, but then his machines started getting louder, and soon, to the surprise of you and Steve…he was speaking.

“Pizza… that sounds nice.” Eddie’s voice was awfully croaky, and he couldn’t help coughing, neck craning to try and get into a more comfortable position. Neither you nor Steve reacted, and in reality, neither of you knew what to do. The nurses and doctor swarmed in then, gently pushing the two of you out of the way as they looked Eddie over, and you couldn’t stop staring.

“Okay, I gotta be honest…you might need to pinch me because I don’t know if I’m dreaming or not.” Steve’s remark made you laugh, grinning wildly as you looked at Eddie, taking in his tired eyes and relieved smile. Eddie laughs in response to Steve, and in return gets scolded by a nurse, who’s shoving a straw in between his lips so he’ll drink some water.

Finally, the three of you are left to talk, and you have to stop from throwing yourself at Eddie. He laughs when you hug him, gripping you tight with both arms as your face burrows down into the crook of his neck. He can feel the tears soaking into his hair from your eyes, but like the gentlemen he is, he doesn’t mention it. And when you pull away, he doesn’t let you go far, making sure you’re perched on the edge of his bed within arms reach.

“Good to have you back, man. Now I can tell Dustin his hero survived.” Steve shakes Eddie’s hand without a thought, grinning with relief, and Eddie’s got an arm wrapped around your waist, a hand holding your thigh to ground himself into reality. “Honestly dude, what you did down there, Dustin told me all about it, I thought it was wicked. Anyway, you two have your moment, I’m going to call the others and let them know you’re awake.” Steve’s gone then, and Eddie lets out a soft chuckle. He tries to sit up higher and put his back against the headboard, but he struggles, nearly falling to the side before you catch him.

“Woah, baby, hang on.” You help him move his position and make sure the covers are up to his waist, pillows fluffed properly and that he’s comfortable. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you as you pour him another cup of water, holding the cup for him to drink.

“You know, everyone was worried sick about you, Dustin kept reading the D&D manual to you, hoping you’d wake up.” Eddie looks away then, a sudden onslaught of tears caught in his lashes and taking him by surprise. There’s a lump in his throat that he just can’t manage to swallow down even though he tries with all his might, and when you take his hand and rub the back of it with your thumb, Eddie’s a goner.

He’s in your arms then, gripping on to you tightly and hoping that none of this was a dream, or some fucked up idea of heaven, and you’re holding him just like he always likes, a hand stroking his hair and another one wrapped around his shoulders. He sobs, letting out all of the built-up emotion, trying to shove back the memories from his near-final moments, and you just let him, soothing with soft whispers and quiet hums.

“I…I didn’t mean to be so stupid…I really didn’t.” Eddie pulls away then so he can speak, fitfully wiping his face and frowning when you look at him. “I thought everything would be okay, in some sort of fucked up insanity. But then…the bats and Dustin and…I guess I liked the idea of not running for once.”

Eddie’s words are quiet, and he’s not really expecting a response, but he still gets one, with your hand cupping his cheek and your lips pressing gently against his chapped ones.

“You, Eddie Munson, are a hero. And maybe you don’t want to hear it, but you are the furthest thing from a coward. You made the distraction that we needed, you protected my brother as any good man should, and you did something so stupidly dumb and brave, in the hopes of saving people you didn’t even know.” You stop for a moment, having to take a breath as Eddie’s gaze bores into yours, and when you take his hands, he doesn’t hesitate to squeeze them. “I know our stupid town thinks you’re a monster, a freak and some devil-worshipping murderer, but I don’t care. Fuck what they say, fuck what they think.”

“To be honest…I was worried about you being here if I woke up.” Eddie’s got so much sadness in his eyes that you can feel your heart breaking in two, and once again you’re pulling him to you, soothing him with soft kisses and gentle caresses.

“Of course I was going to be here, baby. There was no chance I was going to miss you waking up, being one of the first people you saw. I’ve been waiting right here for days, right by your side. You weren’t alone, Eds.” Eddie sniffs against your shoulder, and he leans into your touch when you press your lips to the side of his mouth, getting a taste of salty tears and warm skin. “Your uncle’s gonna be so happy to see you, love. He comes to visit every day too, sometimes he’d play you music through your beaten-up Walkman.” Eddie laughs at this, a noise that’s so happy and filled with relief that it makes your body tingle, and he’s shaking his head in amusement.

“That reminds me, someone’s gotta get rid of my Master of Puppets tape, I don’t think I can listen to that song ever again.” You laugh back, leaning in to kiss him again and again, releasing the feeling of his hands on your body, the warmth of his skin against yours and his hair brushing your face and hands where you cupped his cheeks.

The two of you kissed for what seemed like ages, and when more doctors and nurses came to fiddle with his wires and monitors, Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off you or wipe his shit-eating grin off his face.

An hour or so later, he was in a private room, something that Steve managed to swing, and the whole gang was sitting in the various chairs and the free space on the bed, munching on pizza and sharing chaotic stories. Dustin kept going on and on about how well Eddie rocked on the top of the trailer, and Robin boasted about how good of a shot Nancy was, and everyone seemed happy, excited even.

This was home to you and Eddie, surrounded by your friends and your brother, listening to insane tales and laughing when Steve nearly spilled a soda on himself. Eddie was alive, everyone was safe, and sure you’d all been to hell and back a couple more times than anyone would like, but you’d move on.

And as the bites on Eddie’s torso healed, so would his trauma, and you were never going to leave his side, always waiting for him to be ready, always waiting for Eddie to just be…Eddie.

PLEASE REBLOG FOR MORE EDDIE MUNSON FICS!

Tagging: @sadgirlml @writingquillsandpainpills @gay-prentiss @prettyboyeddiemunson @gold-onthe-inside @wasteland-bvby

[munsons-maiden]

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

I’m devastated by this finale. I hoped this series wouldn’t turn into a fix-it fic, but it just did. I will fix Eddie‘s story, and I’ll give him - and the reader - the happy ending they deserve. Promise. - Love, Kiki

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 |  Eddie Munson x female reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 |  THEN. You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself  adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with  Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected life line and turns your world upside down.

NOW. Four months have passed since the winter night you walked out of Eddie’s trailer and his life for good. But when the mysterious headaches and nightmares return full-force and something wicked stirs in sleepy Hawkins, starting a witch hunt against Eddie, you realize that there are two things in this world that might be more persistent than you’d thought: Evil…and love.

The story will be told  in two timelines: the past (after the Battle of Starcourt) and the present (during the events of season 4).

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut, romance

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (in the later chapters, so you need to be 18+ to read this story!), angst with a happy ending, attempted assault, bullying, canon-typical violence

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.  

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝!  ♡

➳ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

➳ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 

➳ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 

➳ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 

➳ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 

➳ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔 

➳ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 

➳ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 

➳ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗 

➳ 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

➳ 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

[boogiewrites]

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Eddie Munson x OFC

Cherry Bomb  Multi Part Series - COMPLETE

Chapters in bold contain NSFW Content

Mary Cherry, a peer-proclaimed good church girl decides once turning 18 that she no longer wants to be that angelic good girl. She wants to be bad. She wants to live a little and have some fun. She's made a list of things she wants to do before graduating to complete her bad girl transformation. But she'll need someone to help her learn how. Eddie Munson, the school "freak" and resident bad boy seems like the perfect teacher. Eddie takes her under his wing, but they both start to question what being "good" or "bad" means throughout the process. Who's reputation will actually change, and will the student become the teacher? Slow burn. Everyone's over 18.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Seeing Stars Multi-Part Series (COMPLETE)

Chapters in bold contain NSFW Content

A reimagining of Eddie's '86 senior year that ends with him walking the graduation stage, flipping the bird, and getting the hell out of there. With the girl he loves. A new girl with a mysterious air to her and a questionable past comes to Hawkins. After a chance encounter at a party, Eddie becomes a bit smitten with her. The problem is, she's an unreadable brick wall when she's sober. Despite her hesitation to letting men in her life, they become best friends. Will Eddie's attentive persistence help him break down the walls she's put up to protect herself from not getting hurt? Will Star learn she can be in love and be loved in return after her last relationship left her traumatized? Will her spiritual guidance help her see that Eddie really is the one for her? A story of strangers to best friends to lovers with a splash of witchiness and a lot of trauma healing.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27

Eddie Munson Reader One Shots

Repentance (NSFW)

Reader gave up her former life to become popular but it turns out it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. By her senior year, she’s grown weary of having to be someone else and stands up for herself one too many times before the cutthroat members of Hawkins royalty get tired of her and decide to ruin her reputation. With no one left who knows the real her, she’s left to reach out to her former best friend, Eddie Munson. We follow her and Eddie through key moments in their best friends to enemies to lovers' journey ending with a reconciliation that shows her what kind of love she's been missing out on.

Hindsight's Always 19/84. (Multi Part - In Process)

Single Dad Eddie/Reader AU. Old Lovers Reunited. First Love's.

You left Hawkins in 1984. You had no intentions of ever coming back. But life had other plans. You grew sick of the fake people and conversations, the classism and nauseating academic personalities of your past life. You craved life with its highs and lows, its triumphs and heartbreak over the beige monotony of white-collar progress. Now divorced and happy to be, you move back home. You run into an old friend, Eddie Munson. He was a memory that had haunted you for years. You haven't been the only one whose life has changed drastically. He's working two jobs and taking care of his son alone. You came back to Hawkins to find a new path, but you're faced with your younger self instead. Will you finally give her the answers she's always needed? Are you brave enough to say the things you couldn't before you left? With the growing connection between two broken adults, it looks like you never should've left.

You know what they say, Hindsight's always 20/20.

Part One Part Two

[st-hc-s]

As much as I love reading fix it steddie fics (and I cannot stress this enough, I LOVE reading them) I am a pretty rigid thinker so I find myself being overly critical of the ways some people choose to rewrite the ending of season 4. It’s all baseless nitpicky stuff but I’m usually saying things along the lines of “the duffers wouldn’t write it like that” or “that’s pretty unrealistic.” So instead of being the Scrooge of steddie fics and grumbling without offering solutions, here is my fix it that I think would be canon compliant and still play along with the bullshit that the duffers are capable of pulling.

- -

It’s 1988. Hawkins, Indiana is experiencing extreme heavy rainfall and flash flooding, and has been for the last 2 weeks. To many outsiders, the town of Hawkins would be deemed a disaster zone, a now uninhabitable town of despair and ruin. To the few residents that remain, it’s all standard fodder. The thunder and the heavy rainfall is now background noise to some. There are a select few, however, who fear what the thunder could bring and are not totally fond of what follows. Those few are The Party, or rather what’s left of it. To them the thunder brings back memories of rancid, ashy air and the smell of decay. It brings back memories of death and dying, loss and heartbreak. To Dustin Henderson, the thunder brings back memories of the older brother figure he never got to spend enough time with. It reminds him of Eddie Munson.

Dustin sits on his bed, rocking back and forth to stop the anxiety from overtaking his body. It’s bad tonight. It’s always bad on nights like this. He knows what to do when it gets like this he just wishes he never has to.

Dustin tiptoes to the kitchen, praying he doesn’t wake up his cat, Tews or worse, his mother. If she sees him in this kind of state, with tear tracks littered down his cheeks, she will not let up until he confesses what’s ailing him. She’s a good mother, Claudia Henderson. She always has been. Dustin thinks of how lucky he is to have her. Any other night he’d give in and let her comfort him but on the bad nights, like tonight, even if he wanted to share his history of the Upside Down with her, he couldn’t. It’s a horrifyingly evil secret that he’s sworn to protect her from.

He grabs the phone off the wall and tiptoes backwards into his room, thanking his lucky stars that his mother bought the phone with the extra long cord. Once Dustin’s certain that she’s too absorbed in her cheesy romance novel to look up and see him, he closes his bedroom door as quietly as he can. Without hesitating he begins dialling the number he knows so well and calls the Harrington house. Steve answers within 2 rings.

The concern in Steve’s “Hello?” is enough to bring Dustin back to the brink of tears, tears that he thought he had long finished shedding.

“Steve,” followed by a sniffle.

“Dustin? Are you okay?” Steve already knows the answer, on a night like tonight, why else would Dustin call?

“Steve… I miss him.”

Steve sighs. “I know Dustin, I know you do. I do too.”

“He’s got to be out there somewhere right? He can’t be dead?”

“Dustin you can’t do this to yours-“

“Because if he is, then we killed him. We left him to die.”

The tears are coming hard and fast now, searingly hot as they fall down Dustin’s cheeks.

“No, hey, listen - we brought him back Dustin, we didn’t leave him anywhere. We brought him back through so he wouldn’t stay in - in - that place. He was gone… Dustin, there was nothing we could do.”

They both think back to that fateful night. Both sets of memories shrouded in misery and grief. That night Dustin watched as the light died in his best friends eyes, and felt as blood that wasn’t his soak through his clothes. Steve watched as the younger brother he always wanted, cradle a deceased Eddie in his arms, wailing as he refused to let him go.

“NO! NO! NOOOO! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM TO DIE!”

Robin, fear and despair thickening her voice says, “Dustin please, we have to go! Vecna isn’t dead, we don’t know where he is!”

“NO WE CAN’T LEAVE HIM HERE! HE’S NOT DEAD - HE’S NOT -“

Now nancy tries to reason, ever the calm one, “Dustin, I know -“

“NO YOU DON’T! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM HERE! JUST GO - YOU GUYS GO AND I’LL STAY!”

Steve has stayed back this whole time. It always takes him longer to take it all in but in moments like this, where the heaviness can’t be denied, he’s even slower. As Nancy and Robin both plead with Dustin, their voices heavy with desperation, he pushes through them. He kneels opposite Dustin, on Eddie’s other side, getting a close up look, for the first time, at the severity of the wounds. Steve chokes back a gag as he meets Dustin’s eyes.

“We’ll bury him. We’ll say a proper goodbye, okay? We’re not gonna leave him here, we wouldn’t do that.”

Nancy starts, “Steve we don’t have time - “

“We’ll bury him.” Firm and strong.

Dustin softens, “Really?”

“Will you let me carry him through? If you grab his stuff and mine - will you let me carry him through?”

“We’ll give him a proper burial?”

Steve nods.

Dustin lets out a meek “Okay” as he leans back.

They spend the next 20 minutes finding a way through the gate at the Munson trailer. Eventually they find a step ladder just tall enough for Steve to push both Eddie’s body and Dustin through as he can’t move much, his ankle seeming pretty far gone.

Once back in Hawkins, they each, Nancy, Robin & Dustin, grab something to dig with and make their way alongside Steve, still carrying Eddie’s body, to the forest tree line near the park. They dig as much as their tired bodies allow before placing his body in the trench. They tie Eddie’s bandana to his spear where Robin sticks it firmly in the ground at the head of Eddie’s makeshift grave.

They all say a few words, as clearly as they can through their sobs. The words they share that night stay between them, too personal and harrowing to share beyond that space.

“He can’t really be dead Steve. He can’t.”

“Dustin-“

“No listen! El came back, Hop came back, even El’s creepy dad came back and we all thought they were dead. Would it be so crazy after the shit we’ve seen?”

“I know Dustin, I know - I hear you, but what about Barb… what about Bob and - and - Billy? They’re not coming back. They’re dead, Dustin. I know you want him back but it’s been 2 years. You can’t do this to yourself. He’s gone. Eddie’s gone.”

The silence they share is painful.

“Yeah. You’re right. I was stupid to think it anyway.”

“Dustin, hey, come on now - “

“I’m okay, I just… needed to be talked down. Thank you for listening Steve.”

“Dustin!” But the line is already dead.

Dustin spends that night crying himself to sleep, with all the lights and lamps on, as he does every night, just in case Eddie tries to make contact.

Steve never tells anyone this (except Robin, he tells her everything) but it kills him whenever Dustin calls to talk through his theories on how Eddie could still be alive. The hope it gives Dustin never acts as a comfort to Steve, but rather a catalyst for an intense bout of panic and guilt. He especially never shares these feelings with Lucas and Dustin, and even Mike who was surprisingly close to Eddie. He’s scared to tell anyone this but Eddie’s death hit him hard. Harder than he would have thought possible for the short amount of time he knew him, like really knew him.

The grief haunts him, constantly. The few moments of reprieve he has from thoughts of Eddie feel like heaven. Then when he remembers it all, his world crashes down around him, like he’s seeing Eddie, dead, in Dustin’s arms for the first time again. The pain has never subsided or gotten easier.

He feels that nauseating guilt make its way through his veins now as his hands start to shake. Luckily his parents have long since fled Hawkins and he has the house to himself as he lets out a wracking sob. At least he can grieve in private. Steve falls to his knees and he knows he won’t make it upstairs to his room this time. The panic attack overwhelms him and he falls flat to the floor. Eventually he falls asleep here after hours of tears and pain and apologies to the beautiful, dead boy he’ll never see again. The next morning he wakes to puffy eyes and that familiar hopeless feeling, as he has done almost everyday for the past 2 years.

MEANWHILE

The rain lets off steam on the road’s surface as it lands. These aren’t normal raindrops, ones you would typically find during the rainy seasons of Indiana. No, these are violent, landing with an audible thud. They seem to carry so much more that just water from the sky, they carry things like pollution and ash. Since the Upside Down has taken over Hawkins, any type of abnormal weather (outside of the now standard drab, dreary grey skies) is intense and ruinous. Rainfall turns to floods and cyclones. Lightning turns to electrical storms that lead to forest fires. Wind causes dust walls taller than the old mall that swarm and decimate what’s left of the town. The few brave residents that have stayed spend most of their time indoors due to the unpredictable and furious weather. Tonight is no exception.

The thunder is particularly loud tonight, it’s cracking is so violent and sudden that the ground vibrates with each boom. The grass of the Forest Hills Trailer Park is absolutely flooded now. You couldn’t walk more than 2 steps before having to turn back and change your shoes due to the amount of mud. As thunder cracks and a bright shot of lightning hits a tree on the forests’ edge, the ground begins to shake. There is a small clearing past the tree line, about 8 feet or so in, where a mound appears to move. You’d never notice it if you weren’t looking for it, but the spot is wriggling, as if something is pushing up from underneath it.

The mound gets taller as the movement gets faster, more desperate, like an animal trying to dig its way out. Suddenly something breaks through the surface, the dirt it is caked in immediately cleaned off by the heavy rainfall. It’s a hand. Followed by an arm, a shoulder, a head. A head covered in matted, unruly dark hair, lots of it too. The figure pants as it pulls the rest of its body out of the hole it came from. The filth covering it washing off quickly. The figure takes a moment to breathe once its face is clear. It looks up to the sky and… laughs. It laughs. Not manically, not hysterically. It’s a joyous laugh, as if what it is viewing is amongst the greatest things it’s ever seen.

“It’s good to be back,” Eddie Munson says to himself, deep and gravelly, determined yet elated.

Eddie steps away from the shallow grave from which he came and makes his way through the heavy downpour to find his friends. This is gonna be good, he thinks.

[spaceoddball1969]

Falling for the Freak - Eddie Munson Fix-It Fic Chapter 06

Ok, first off, I just have to say a major thank you to all the people who have been showing so much love for this fic. I never thought anyone would read this let alone like it or reblog it so seriously thank you so much. You all are wonderful, gorgeous human beings. <3

CHAPTER SUMMARY: It’s Halloween and the reader is freaking out after her previous experience with Eddie. There’s no way she could be falling for the town freak could she? 

WARNINGS: Fluff. Fluff. Fluff. And I guess like mild spoilers for both the book and movie versions of The Shining. Also, I’m taking a few liberties with how I think Eddie ended up living with his uncle. I hope it makes sense to you all. 

Chapter 6

I didn’t have a crush on Eddie Munson. No. I didn’t have a crush on Eddie Munson. That would be ridiculous. He was a dumbass metal head who sold pot. I most definitely didn’t like him. Besides all that, he was one of my kid cousin’s best friends. I couldn’t like, date him. That would actually be crazy.

Yet, as I tossed and turned in bed after Eddie left, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. If I focused enough, I could still feel his hands on my waist. I could feel the heat of his finger tips on my skin. I could feel his body moving closer to mine. And my heart raced and I got all sweaty. 

Needless to say I did not sleep much that night. When my alarm clock went off the next morning, I smacked at it angrily. Once I had stopped its incessant beeping, I pulled my blankets over my head and groaned. I did not have any classes on Thursday and somehow ended up with the day off from work. I planned to spend my day holed up in the public library researching and writing my paper. Nobody had invited me to do anything for Halloween, so I figured it would be a fairly quiet day.

I got dressed quickly, pulling on faded blue jeans and a dark orange sweater. I slipped my feet into a pair of leather combat boots and packed up my backpack. As I stepped out of my room, I caught up with Dustin in the hallway.

“Hey,” I said, ruffling his curly hair. “You doing anything fun tonight? Do you still trick or treat?”

Dustin sighed and I could tell there was a story coming. “Lucas says we’re too old to go trick or treating.”

“Are you guys doing anything?” I asked as we entered the kitchen.

“Lucas is going to some Halloween party with his girlfiend, Max, I think,” he replied. “And Mike has to take his little sister, Holly, out trick or treating,”

“So, do you wanna do something? Like maybe we could watch some scary movies?” I asked. “That is if it’s not too lame to hang out with your cousin,”

“That would be great,” Dustin smiled. “You don’t have plans?”

“None whatsoever,” I chuckled. “I was going to spend some time at the library doing some school work, but I was thinking maybe I could swing by Family Video and get us some movies. Maybe some popcorn too,”

“Y/N that would be awesome,” Dustin said, “Make sure you get Poltergeist though,”

“Ok, will do,” I said, giving him a thumbs up.

“Honey,” Aunt Claudia said to me, entering the kitchen, “if you’re going out, could you please stop at the store and pick up some extra candy. I forgot I volunteered for the Halloween party at the school tonight and they need me to bring the treats,”

“Sure thing,” I said.

I grabbed a banana and headed for the front door. I pealed the banana and took a bite as I climbed aboard my bike in the driveway. It took me about fifteen minutes to get into town. By the time I had parked myself at a desk in the library, it was about nine in the morning. I set my bag down on the table and started to unload it. I pulled out notebooks and pencils and my copy of Dracula. 

I spent the next hour looking through the library’s stack of books on different legends and folklore. I found a few research articles about the representation of vampires in different cultures. Once I had found a collection of resources, I set to work, reading through each of them and taking notes of interesting information.

It felt like I had spent half my life at that desk by the time I left. I had filled at least ten pages full of notes, quotes, and ideas from my resources. I still didn't have a thesis, but at least I had a fountain of knowledge about vampires.

When I finished checking out my books from the library, it was almost two in the afternoon. I peddled my way over to Family Video and parked my bike outside. When I stepped inside the store, Steve greeted me with a surprised expression on his face and wave.

"Aren't you supposed to have today off?" He asked.

"Yeah," I shrugged, heading towards the horror section. "Me and Dustin and gonna watch a bunch of scary movies tonight. I guess Mike and Lucas weren't really into trick or treating this year,"

"Lame," Steve said rolling his eyes. "Make sure you pick up Poltergeist."

I smiled and grabbed a handful of tapes, making sure to include Poltergeist. Once I had paid for my rentals, I rode over to the grocery store. I grabbed a couple boxes of microwave popcorn and several variety bags of candy. By the time I had checked out and paid, my backpack was fit to burst. 

By the time I got home it was a little past four o’clock. Dustin was in his room doing homework and Aunt Claudia was putting together a last minute costume. She was dressing up as her and Dustin’s late cat Mews, which I thought was both sad but incredibly adorable. Aunt Claudia left the house around five, promising to be back before we went to bed. The phone rang around six and Dustin picked it up. I was busy doing some revising for my math midterm when Dustin burst into my room a few minutes later.

“Hey,” he said, “how bad would you feel if I changed our plans?”

“Depends on how you change them,” I said, looking up at him from my desk.

“The Wheelers decided to take Holly to the party at the school and Nancy is going out with some of her friends so Mike has to stay at home to pass out candy. He asked if I wanted to come over,”

“You mean you’re ditching me?” I asked. 

“I’m so so so so sorry, Y/N,” Dustin said, “But do you mind?”

I sighed. “Fine” I said. “I guess I’ll just eat all that popcorn myself,”

“Can I take Poltergeist?” Dustin asked.

“You’re going to take one of my movies too?” I complained. “That seems unfair,”

“Come on it’s like the best one,” Dustin said, “Please?”

“Fine,” I said again. “But you’re leaving The Exorcist here,”

“That works,” Dustin said. “Oh and Mike said I could stay over tonight,”

“You stayed over last night,” I said.

“And I’ll stay over again tonight,” Dustin said.

Then I heard the doorbell ring. I figured it was the pizza I had ordered and got up to answer. Dustin went into his room and quickly packed an overnight bag. By the time I was walking down the hall with my wallet, he was in the living room gathering up Poltergeist. Dustin was just about to head out the side door while I opened the front door.

“You better call when you get to Mike’s!” I yelled at Dustin as I pulled the door open.

I was instantly startled as a tall figure with big sharp white teeth and blood oozing down the sides of its mouth jumped at me.

“Ahh!” I shrieked and then took in the sight before me. 

Eddie Munson stood on the front porch dressed head to toe in black. In his mouth was a pair of fake fangs. Painted on either side of his lips were thin red lines of sticky fake blood. He started laughing as I realized what had just happened.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked. “And why are you dressed like that?”

“It’s Halloween,” he chuckled, “And Dustin invited me. Aren’t you guys watching a bunch of movies or something?”

“Dustin!” I yelled as I heard the side door slam.

I peered out the front door and watched as Dustin jumped on his bike and sped down the driveway. 

“Bye Y/N! Hi Eddie! Bye Eddie!” Dustin shouted before hitting the sidewalk.

Eddie watched as he went and then turned back slowly towards me. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “What just happened?” he asked as he pulled the fake teeth out of his mouth with a grimace. “Man those things hurt,”

“Dustin bailed,” I said. “Apparently Mike invited him over. He didn’t tell me he invited you to join us. I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing,”

“Who said it has to be nothing?” Eddie asked. “I came here to watch scary movies and watch scary movies I will do,”

“Dustin took Poltergeist,” I said, “but I’ve got Halloween, The Exorcist, and Nightmare on Elm Street,”

“Darn it,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the door frame. “You’re missing the best one,”

“I know,” I said, “but Dustin was insistant that he take Poltergeist,” 

“No, I mean The Shining,” Eddie smirked. “Good thing I brought it with me,” he added, reaching into his leather jacket and pulling the tape out.

“You brought a movie,” I said, a smile turning the corner of my lips up. 

“Still haven’t seen it?” he asked.

“Nope,” I said.

“Well then what are we waiting for?” Eddie asked, stepping past me and into the house. 

---

I didn’t know exactly how it happened, but I found myself sitting in my aunt’s living room, eating pizza and popcorn with Eddie Munson. We started with The Exorcist as I had seen it about two hundred times and was half busy with passing candy out to the trick or treaters that were flooding the porch. 

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned as Linda Blaire threw up pea soup on screen. “I forgot how nasty this movie actually is,”

“Oh it scarred me as a little kid,” I said. “One of my friends showed it to me when I was way too young and I couldn’t sleep for weeks,”

“And now?” Eddie called from the couch as I got up to answer the call of candy hungry children.

“Oh it’s one of my favorites,” I laughed, handing out a few pieces of candy to each kid.

We plowed through the candy within two hours. I turned off the porch light after I had passed out the last piece and shut the door. It locked behind me with a sharp “click”. I joined Eddie on the couch, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in his lap. We were on to Nightmare on Elm Street. I had never seen it and was surprised at just how terrifying it was. I found myself a little worried about falling asleep that night. As it was coming to an end, I heard the front door unlock and Aunt Claudia stepped into the house. 

“Oh, hello,” she said when she saw me and Eddie on the couch.

I explained the situation to her in between the end of Nightmare on Elm Street and the start of our next movie. Aunt Claudia announced she was going to bed and told us that we were welcome to stay up as late as we wanted.

“Hey,” I said to Eddie once my aunt was gone, “don’t you have a curfew or anything?”

“Not really,” Eddie shrugged. “My uncle works nights at the plant, so even if he cared when I come home he wouldn’t be around to yell at me about it,”

“Your uncle?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers. “Mom passed away when I was little. Dad wasn’t all that great. Haven’t seen him in a while. But Uncle Wayne’s pretty cool. He’s helped me out a lot,”

There was a brief silence between us. I was surprised at how open he was suddenly being with me. I didn’t know what to say in response. But then Eddie snapped his head up at me. “I think it’s time you see The Shining.” He said, a big smile appearing on his face.

“It better be as good as you say it is,” I said. 

“Oh it is,” Eddie said, settling deeply into the couch cushions. 

I got up and replaced the tapes in the VCR. As the previews played on the new tape, I made a new bowl of popcorn. 

“IT’S STARTING!” Eddie yelled from the living room.

“I’m coming!” I said, “Popcorn is almost done!

“Hurry!” Eddie called.

I yanked the hot bag of popcorn out of the microwave, burning my fingers all the way back to the couch. I tore it open and dumped its contents into the bowl as the film opened with a wide shot of a mountain range. The music that scored the scene was deep and haunting. I felt a twinge of fear in my stomach. I tugged a pillow close to my body as Eddie turned his head to face me with a wicked grin.

“I love this movie,” he said.

“I can tell,” I chuckled, waving my hands back and forth to dispell the heat burning them.

Without a word, Eddie grabbed my right wrist and held it up to his face. He gently started blowing on my overheated fingers. I felt my entire face go red, but Eddie didn’t seem to notice. Once he had spent a little time on my right hand, Eddie took my left hand and did the same thing. After he was done he let me go and asked “All better?”

All I could do was nod. 

After all that it took me a moment to focus back on the film. Once I got into it, I I was riveted by it. It was intense and disturbing - especially that bit with the guy in the dog costume - and I felt unnerved by it. However, I couldn’t help but feel a bit cheated by the ending.

“That’s it?!” I shouted as the screen went black.

“What do you mean that’s it?” Eddie asked, surprised by my sudden outburst.

“He dies in the snow?” I questioned. “And why was his face in the picture?”

“He was always a part of the hotel!” Eddie said.

“No!” I said. “That’s not the ending!”

“What are you talking about??” Eddie asked.

“The Overlook explodes!” I said. “Hallorann lives! They fight topiaries! That is not how that story ends,”

“It is in the movie,” Eddie said.

“Well it’s not how it is in the book,” I grumbled.

“How does it compare to the book?” Eddie asked.

“It’s good,” I said and then paused.

“But the book was better?” he asked.

“Yup,” I said. “Always is. You really should read it. I have it if you want to borrow it,”

I got up and started walking towards my bedroom. I opened the door and started to scrounge around for my copy of Stephen King’s book. I was looking under my bed at a box of books I had neglected to unpack when I heard Eddie step into the room. I was strangely anxious knowing that Eddie was in my bedroom. I shook away the thought before it could go too far.

“So this is your room,” Eddie said.

“Here it is,” I said, pulling my tattered book out.

“It’s so cozy,” Eddie said, as I handed him the book. Then his eyes wandered past me to land on the stack of library books on my desk. “Except for the massive pile of demon and vampire books on the desk of course. What the fuck is this for, Y/N?” he asked.

“School, believe it or not,” I explained the class and its midterm paper to him. 

Eddie shrugged and nodded. “Now that’s a class I could get into. What’s your paper on?”

“Vampires,” I said, “but I don’t really know what else. I think I want to write about Dracula but I don’t know what to say other than it’s a really sexist book that makes all of its women into helpless damsels in distress and punishes them for being sexy,”

Eddie paused. “Why don’t you write about that? Make it a comentary on female representation in horror or something?”

I stared at him with wide eyes. “Holy shit,” I said, “That’s brilliant! Munson, good lord, you have no idea how stressed I’ve been about this paper. That’s literally the best idea I’ve ever heard,”

“I’ve been known to have good ideas from time to time,” he smirked.

“Seriously,” I said, “Thank you so so much,”

“You’re welcome, m’lady,” Eddie said, with a small bow of his head. “Think of it as my payment for you teaching me how to dance yesterday,”

“You don’t need to pay me back for that,” I said. “That was just fun,”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, looking down at me, his eyelids fluttering slightly. I was suddenly aware of how long his dark eyelashes were.

“Yeah,” I said. “Come on, you looked like a dork trying to dance to Blondie and I got to see you admit you like Foreigner,”

“And there was that bit near the end,” Eddie said, quietly.

“Remind me, how did that go?” I asked.

Eddie started to step closer to me and then I heard Aunt Claudia’s bedroom door open. We jumped apart and I crashed into my desk while Eddie tripped onto my bed.

“Wow your aunt really is a professional mood spoiler isn’t she?” Eddie muttered from his place on my mattress.

I picked myself up from where I stumbled and my eyes landed on the clock. It was nearly two in the morning. “Shit,” I said. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I have class tomorrow. And I have to work,”

“Are you officially kicking me out?” Eddie asked, standing up.

“I’m sorry,” I said. 

“No, it’s ok,” Eddie said, waving his hand. “Thanks for letting me stay and watch movies.”

“Of course,” I said as we exited my bedroom. I felt a rush of relief hit me as we made our way out of my room. 

Eddie collected his things and headed towards the front door. I opened it for him and he stepped out onto the porch. 

“Hey, do me a favor and call once you’re home?” I asked. “Just so I know you made it home in one piece,”

“Sure thing,” he said. 

“Has Dustin given you our number?” I asked.

“Yeah he did,” Eddie replied. “I’ve got it written down somewhere at home.”

“Just in case,” I said, rifling through a drawer in small table Aunt Claudia kept near the door. I found a pen and pulled it out. “Here it is again,” I took Eddie’s right hand and scribbled our phone number onto his palm.

“Thanks,” Eddie said, “And thanks for the book,”

“Please read it,” I said. “I think you’ll actually really like it.”

“I’ll read it,” Eddie confirmed, a soft smile appearing on his face. He paused and watched me for a minute. By the look on his face it seemed like he was contemplating something. “Oh fuck it,” he muttered and then leaned forward. Eddie pecked my cheek quickly and then turned away to leave.

“Goodnight!” he called as he walked towards his van.

“G’night,” I said weakly, feeling a burning sensation on my cheek where his lips touched my skin.

I watched him drive away and then sat next to the phone waiting for his call. Around two forty five, the phone rang and I heard Eddie’s voice on the other end. 

“Made it home,” he said.

“Good,” I replied.

“Goodnight,” Eddie said and I could almost hear a smile in his voice.

“Goodnight,” I said, hoping he could hear the smile in my voice.

“Let me know if Freddy Krueger is stopping you from getting to sleep,” Eddie said. “I can come fight him off for you,”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Bye, Eddie,”

“Bye Y/N,”

I hung up the phone and then headed towards my bedroom. As I passed by my aunt’s room, the door opened and a very sleepy Aunt Claudia stood in the doorway.

“You going to bed, sweetie?” she asked, rubbing one of her eyes.

“Yeah,” I said. “Eddie just called to let me know he got home,”

“Good,” She replied. “What’s that on your face?”

“Hmm?” I wondered and touched my cheek where she was pointing. I felt a slightly damp spot on my skin. When I pulled my hand back I saw a stripe of fake blood on my fingers. It must have smeared on my skin when Eddie kissed me goodbye. “Pizza sauce,” I said quickly. “God that’s embarrassing,”

“Rude of Eddie not to tell you it was there,” Aunt Claudia said.

“Yeah,” I said, “quite rude of him,”

As I lay in bed that night it wasn’t Freddy Krueger who was keeping me awake. It was Eddie. For the second night in a row, I was going to lose sleep thinking of him. It didn’t help that my cheek was still on fire from where his mouth had made contact. 

I had a crush on Eddie Munson. It was crazy. But I had a crush on Eddie Munson. Damn it.

Previous Chapter: Chapter 05 Next Chapter: Chapter 07

Falling for the Freak Taglist:

@dilophosaurusatenewman

@efvyqrs

@babeyglo

[its-all-ineffable]

Been writing my Stranger Things 4 fix-it (with some Steddie possibly) over the past few weeks and I'm on part two of four (although it may have more parts/chapters, we'll see) and have written over 6000 words. Can you tell I'm invested?!

Enjoying writing it though, and gonna have so much bonding and hurt/comfort in it! Also, it wasn't gonna have any hints of Steddie but I can't help myself, oops.

Anyway, my Steddie fix it fic where Max and Eddie survive and will get to be as okay as they can be is being written and I'm really proud of it!

[msgexymunson]

One Slow Blink Part 1

Description: As a nurse, you want to help people, as many as you can. But, with the insane things that have been going on in Hawkins, and the crazed look in Dustin's eyes when he stumbles into the ER covered in blood with an impossible tale to tell, it makes you wonder; how much are you prepared to give? 

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, *Here there be monsters! Honestly, there's straight up monster fucking in this so if you're not into that do not read*, AFAB sub nurse reader x dom monster Eddie, kinda Alpha/Omega without them knowing it, injury descriptions, S4 does happen and Eddie lives but he be a monster, hand job, fem oral receiving, male oral receiving, consensual predator/prey dynamic, fingering, very rough sex, biting/marking, unprotected p in v, knotting.

A/N: Part 1 of 2, only due to Tumblr restrictions. Adding the second part in a minute. This has come from yet another deranged dream of mine. I imagine Eddie looking kinda like a mix between the Beast from the original Beauty and the Beast, and the dog/kangaroo guys from Tank Girl, but with a longer snout. If you don't know, that's a dirty mix between a lion, a bear, a wolf and maybe a little of Venom's tongue (because I am a whore.)

22k words in total for both parts, I know, mental, but it's worth it ;)

Masterlist Part 2

Tires screech off of the road and onto a dirt path as Nancy turns erratically in her station wagon, the whole car shuddering in protest. Her hands are shaking on the wheel; so much so that you place a placating hand on her knee to try to calm her down. 

You didn't know Nancy, not really. Hell, you only knew Dustin because he came into the hospital for a nasty cut on his leg when he fell off his bike three months ago. Then all of a sudden he shows up in the emergency room covered in blood, grime matted into his curly locks and tear streaks cutting through the dirt on his face. 

He swore until he was blue in the face that it wasn't his, that he needed a doctor, anyone that could help. You tried and failed to convince him to call an ambulance but he insisted that no one else in the hospital would understand. 

There was something about the desperate look in his eyes. It was frightening; those innocent eyes were hard, harder than they had any right to be. Dustin had seen something no child should have had to witness. With Max being admitted blind and unconscious with both arms and legs broken, and all the talk about strange occurrences around town, not to mention the freak earthquakes, it wasn't difficult to believe. But there was something he was not telling you, you were sure of it. Who comes to the ER without a patient and begs a nurse to come with them?

A feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach. The same thing had happened when the mall caught on fire. A feeling that things weren't what they at first glance appeared. Something strange and unnatural was going in, you were sure of it.

Maybe that's why you stole a trauma kit out of an ambulance. Maybe that's why you got in the car, pushed into the front seat by Dustin and Nancy. Maybe that's why you're being bundled out of said car and running through the woods, bracken cutting your ankles through your scrubs and leaves whipping at your face. 

A light in the distance cuts through the dark, glowing and growing as you quickly approach. A small cabin, you see, ramshackle and falling apart. Stepping towards it, you're about to go in when a bellowing roar echoes throughout the woods and into your chest, vibrating your very lungs and stealing your breath away. The kind of roar that makes your survival instincts run wild, telling you to flee. You would listen to it, if your gut wasn't telling you that you were right where you were supposed to be. 

A minute later, Steve is slamming the front door open, looking dishevelled. There's crimson smeared on his cheek; two long cuts run from temple to jaw dripping blood. 

“Is he why-” 

“Henderson, what the hell dude! You can't just bring anyone here!” 

“I know Steve! She can help, she's a doctor-” 

“Nurse, actually,” you interrupt rather sheepishly. 

Steve rubs his hand through his mussed up hair and takes a pace backwards.

“Great, that's just great. When I told you to get someone-” 

Dustin's response is high pitched and hard, tuning through the clearing. 

“I did. I got someone! It's not like I could freaking advertise!” 

“Look, you said you need help. What can I do?” 

Steve and Dustin exchange dark glances. 

“Alright, you better come with me.”

He heads back inside and you follow quietly wondering what the hell you've gotten yourself into. 

The cabin is quaint, and clearly used to be a well loved home a while ago. Now however, there's a gaping hole in the ceiling and dust trailed across the living area. Robin is sitting on an old sofa, you remember her being in band at school. She looks terrible, cracking her knuckles and mumbling to herself incoherently. 

“He's through here.” 

You trail Steve as he leads to a door that's slightly ajar. Pushing it open with one finger he leans on the doorframe and gestures with the other hand at the most impossible thing you've ever seen in your life. 

“What… is that?” 

“That is Eddie.” 

There's a figure strapped to a double bed with strips of fabric bound to its wrists and ankles. Torn clothing is clinging to parts of it, and what skin you can see is a mass of blood and hair. No, not hair. Fur. Its spine seems wrong, curving more than a humans, and its fingers are thick and adorned with semicircular black claws. The face is not recognizable anymore. You see a huge maw, lips curled in anger with razor sharp teeth on display and spit gathering down its matted chin. That's been bound too; a leather belt wrapped tight around it, you assume to stop it biting. It writhes around on the bed, snarling and growling deep in its throat as various wounds bleed out in front of you. One of its arms, if you could call it that, is bent at an odd angle and seems to be limp compared to the rest of it. 

Standing there open-mouthed, you gawp at the thing.

“You said this is- this is Eddie??” 

“Listen, I know it's insane-” 

You step into the room, pulled by an invisible thread. It turns its head and looks straight into your eyes. Wide, warm eyes, full of pain, pleading with you. They're a soft brown, burnt umber, with a whisper of honey and summer days. Familiar eyes. Human eyes. 

“Its- his arm is broken I think, and these wounds… isn't he wanted for-” 

“He didn't do it. He could never. Just- just do what you can. Please. He- he's a hero.”

Standing by the edge of the bed, you reach out with shaking fingers to touch him lightly on the shoulder. He whips his head around, jaw inches from your trembling hand. His chest is heaving, arm struggling against its bindings. 

“Eddie.” 

You kneel to his eye level and stroke softly at the tatters of his t-shirt. He looks panicked, wide eyes rolling like a cornered animal as he continues to struggle. 

“Eddie, I'm here to help you.” 

Nothing but low growls and broken whines come from his tightly bound maw. The thrashing intensifies; he nearly lifts the bed up with sheer force. Steve takes a step back, but not you. 

You climb up on the bed and straddle his floundering form. Blood smears your scrubs as you grasp his head firmly and turn it to face you. 

“Eddie Munson, you listen to me right now! Stop squirming and listen!” 

The silence is deafening, ringing in your ears. He stops his incessant battle against his confines and looks at you, the look of a frightened boy. 

Voice softening, you stroke at the newly grown fur on his cheek. It's soft and warm. 

“Eddie, do you remember me? We used to have English class together two years ago, with Mrs O’Donnell? You sat next to me. Remember?” 

A flash of recognition dawns behind those soft brown eyes. 

“You were late nearly everyday. You used to draw amazing things in your notebook, all sorts of creatures and symbols and I thought it was incredible. You- any time you caught me looking at you, you winked. You know I nearly failed that class because I was too busy staring at you, seeing what you'd do next?” 

His breathing starts to slow down, his heaving chest moving up and down almost rhythmically now. 

“You are Eddie Munson. You're in there, I can tell. I know you're scared, I get it, but I need to try and treat you. OK?” 

He breathes deep, and something akin to a nod happens which seems to hurt him judging by the way his face tightens. 

“Right. Stay still. I need to try and set your arm. I've got some painkillers in the trauma bag, so I'll need to inject you. Can you- can you blink once for yes, twice for no?” 

He closes his eyes slowly, tight shut, and then opens them again. 

“That's it, that's good. I'll be back.” 

Clambering off his huge form, you turn to Steve who is already clutching the bag in his hands. 

“That was- how did you do that?” 

Filtering through the bag to find what you need, you pull out a syringe and unpack it, and find the drugs you're looking for and start setting up the needle. 

“Listen, if I think about this too much I'm gonna panic, so shut up. I've never done this before.” 

A strange calmness has descended upon you. Taking the needle you move back to Eddie's side and find a vein in his muscular arm. 

“Eddie, I'm gonna inject you with some painkillers to take the edge off, OK?” 

One slow blink. 

“Good. You'll feel a scratch, doing it now.” 

Once the drugs hit his system you know they've helped as the tension seems to leave his body. 

“I need to set his arm, can you try and hold him steady?” 

Steve looks like he'd rather run for the hills, but to his credit he nods and approaches. 

“Right, hold up by his shoulder there, keep him still.” 

You untie his limp wrist and Eddie whimpers when his arm falls to the bed. 

“Now, Eddie, this is gonna hurt like hell, but once it's done it'll feel alot better.” 

Instead of counting down you just arrange his arm into what you think is the right place and twist in one smooth motion. 

Eddie's body convulses; you can see Steve trying to push all his weight into him, knuckles white from the pressure. The howling growl that rips from Eddie is muffled by the leather strap around his muzzle, and then it cuts off. 

Eddie is completely still. After a second, a snarling snore fills the room. 

“I think he passed out.” 

“That's probably for the best. Now I need two straight sticks or something, and the bandages from my bag. I suppose I need to splint this.” 

“What do you mean you suppose?” 

“Steve!” 

“OK OK! Jeez, you sound just like Nancy.” 

He jogs off to get what you asked for, and when you have your materials you tie his arm into a makeshift splint. 

“Now, there's trauma shears in the bag. I need to cut his clothes off and treat these wounds.” 

Steve fumbles through the bag as you get more bandages and gauze ready. He passes them to you and you methodically remove the scraps of grimy torn clothes, eventually leaving him in a pair of tatty looking boxer shorts. 

“Are you gonna, erm, cut those-” 

“I think we can leave those on,” you rush it out of your mouth, a little faster and more high pitched than you meant to. 

“Now, I need warm water and a clean towel or something.” 

As you work together, Steve following your directions, you clean and bandage each wound you see as best as you can. After what seems like forever, you're finally finished, collapsing onto the floor exhausted with your back flush against the wall to keep you upright.

“He's probably gonna need some antibiotics. Those bites looked pretty gnarly. Maybe a tetanus shot. Fuck, maybe a vet.” 

You huff a laugh with zero amusement in it as Steve sinks to the floor next to you.

“That was awesome, how'd you know all that stuff?” 

“I'm studying to be a doctor, and I read every chance I get. I'm a junior nurse. You get to see some shit in the ER. Nothing like this, but apparently I must have learned something.” 

“Sure did. You wanna go and get some rest? There's a bed next door.” 

“No, I'll stay here, keep an eye on him. He's gonna need food, and water though.” 

“I got it.” 

Steve gets up and leaves, returning with a chair and a blanket. 

“Thanks Steve. Is Dustin alright?” 

“He fell asleep on the couch, when he's awake we'll tell you everything.” 

He goes then, and you hear the front door shut softly. 

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

You ache, your back bending, contorting in a way that makes it burn. A warm blanket is covering your shoulders though, and the pillow underneath you is firm and fuzzy. There's an odd pressure on top of your head; it's slightly comforting. Risking opening one eye, yesterday's memories begin to flow into your consciousness. 

You're sitting in a chair, bent over Eddie's sick bed, and that's not a pillow. Your head is resting on a furry shoulder. Reaching a tentative hand upward you realise his huge paw of a hand is resting on your head. Fingers find coarse hair, rougher than the fuzz on his chest, and his thick fingers taper into a bone like claw, smooth and curved. 

With the patience of a bomb defusal expert, you lift his hand ever so gently and place it on his stomach. There's much less fur there, you see in the daylight, mostly skin and rippling muscle. It flexes under your gaze as his paw settles on top of it, absentmindedly scratching his skin in his sleep. 

Careful not to wake him, you sit up and stretch, hearing pops and clicks from your backbone. He looks peaceful, huge chest rising and falling gently. The hair on his head is still long, matted and dirty but soft looking. There's a fuzz on his cheeks, and that maw of his is no longer snarling in pain though his canines still jut out slightly. An ear peeks out from his curls, the flesh still soft and pinkish, but it curls into a rounded point with downy fur at the tip. 

Your eyes rake down, over his chest with the tattoo near his heart. The fur is thinner here too, and starts growing thickly in a long rope at his belly button, towards the hem of his underwear. A small gasp escapes you when you see the tent in his boxers. His member is pressing hard against the fabric, trying to break free from its cotton prison. It's thick, and clearly enormously long, your thighs clenching at the thought of touching it. 

Well that was unexpected. You tear your eyes away almost shamefully. Just look at him, he's almost monstrous. Stop thinking about his package. 

The door behind you creaks open, and Dustin is standing there. His gaze sweeps over Eddie, then sees what you just saw. Eyes widening comically, he slaps a hand over his face to block his view. 

You stand, shrugging off the blanket you had wrapped around you, and place it delicately over Eddie. Taking one last look at his peaceful features, you follow Dustin out. 

He and Nancy tell you everything. The demogorgon, the Upside Down, Will, Eleven, Vecna. It takes a couple of hours but you're patient, only asking questions to clarify some points. It's not like you don't believe him. After last night, you think you could believe anything. 

By the time he's done, Steve is back with food, dumping bags in the kitchen. 

“I took Robin home, she's in shock but she'll be alright. So how's Eddie Dog?” 

“Eddie Dog?” You question, brow furrowing. Dustin pipes up. 

“Demogorgon, Demodogs, Eddie Dog. I did think DemoEddie but Dog seems more-” 

“I get it. He seems alright, I think. I mean, he's sleeping. I'll have to check the arm, and see if he gets a fever or anything but that seems like the least of his problems.” 

Nancy speaks then, looking at you gently. 

“You're being really, calm, about all this. You OK?” 

“Oh I'm fine. I don't know why, but I'm fine. I sort of knew, deep down, what's been happening wasn't normal. Something told me I needed to be here, and I was right.” 

Steve nods, happy with your response. At least he doesn't need to worry about you freaking out right now. Nancy just purses her lips and doesn't say anything else. 

“I'm gonna have to untie him, you know. He needs to drink, and eat.” 

“I'll help.” Dustin stands up, but you wave him down. 

“No, I'll do it. He calmed down for me yesterday. I can do it.” 

You stand and walk back over to Eddie's room, pushing the door open carefully. He stirs, looking at you with one eye. 

“Eddie, how you feeling?” 

He snorts, trying to paw at the leather around his muzzle with his injured arm. 

“I'm gonna take that off and untie you. Are you… are you gonna be nice?” 

He settles in the bed, head low to his chest. You take that as the best sign you can get right now. Walking over to him slowly, he turns his head to you. His eyes are soft. 

You reach your hand out and cup his face gently, working the belt off with the other as you make shushing noises at him. You're not sure if they are for his benefit or yours. 

When it's off, Eddie stretches his mouth wide, giving you a flash of rows of sharp teeth, and a long, thick purplish tongue. He snaps it shut and licks his lips dryly. 

“You want some water?” 

He blinks slowly at you. His eyelashes are thick and long, and almost look weirdly feminine against his wolfish face. 

“Oh you remember that?”

Another slow blink. 

“Good. Let me get you some water.” 

You stand up but Steve's already at your elbow with a glass. 

“Hey Munson, still alive then?” 

Eddie stares at Steve for a second, lifts his injured arm up gradually, and unfurls his middle finger. Steve laughs loudly; relief coating it. 

“Seems like you're still you. Good, I can't handle Dustin on my own, he's exhausting.” 

A weird huffing noise comes from Eddie, almost a laugh. You hold the water up and he sits up slightly. No idea of how to get him to drink it, you tip up his chin and trickle some water gently into his open maw. He splutters slightly but manages to swallow it. 

“I'm gonna untie you now, OK?” 

He blinks slowly at you again and an unexpected warmth floods you. You begin at his feet; unbinding them, rubbing his ankles where they are red and sore, and rotating his feet around to get his circulation back. When you move to his bound arm he stares at you intensely, so much so it makes you blush. You take the same amount of time inspecting it, rubbing the redness away and circling his wrist. 

When you move your hand he grasps it awkwardly so you can't move away. An odd noise is coming out of his mouth, a drawn out rumble of sound. His eyes crease with the effort.

A word emerges. 

“...Thank.” 

It's low, animal like, almost a growl, but it's a word. 

“Eddie, you can talk?” 

Tears spring into the corners of your eyes, though you don't know why. His face scrunches again, another bubble of growling sound forcing its way out of his maw. 

“...harrrd.” 

He looks like he's about to cry. You hold his cheek, stroking at the soft fur.

“It's alright, I'm sure it'll get better. You're just not used to it. I'll talk enough for the both of us, OK?” 

He blinks deliberately at you again. A moment passes where you just stare at each other. Shaking your head as if to clear it, you cross to the other side of the bed to look at his broken arm. 

“This looks… this can't be right. Eddie, does it hurt?” 

He blinks once. 

“OK, does it hurt a lot?” 

Two slow blinks.  

Untying the bandage, it looks almost healed. You change it, and inspect his other wounds. They look like they're already scarring, a mass of dried blood sticks to each patch of matted fur and skin but you could swear the damage happened weeks ago. They're healed so much that you take the wrappings off and don't bother to recover them. 

“They've healed. I don't know how, but look.” 

Eddie looks down at the scars on his abdomen, pawing at them in disbelief, causing dried blood to crust off in crimson flakes. 

“Do you think you can stand up? We need to get you clean.” 

He nods softly and you move to hold his uninjured arm to help him up. Placing two elongated feet on the floor, he manages to bend his knees and rise from the mattress. 

He's huge. Seeing him unfurl makes you realise just how huge. He's got to be at least seven feet tall, with a broad chest and thick, powerful legs. He turns to the door and whips you inadvertently. 

“Ouch, be careful with your tail Eddie.” 

He spins, turning to look over his shoulder and stares at you with wild eyes. 

“Yes, tail. Look.” 

His paw reaches and feels it, face twisted incredulously. He shuffles forward toward the door frame with it still in his grip approaching where Steve is standing. 

“Don't play with that you'll go blind,” he jokes. Eddie pats him in the chest with what should have been a mock hit, but the force of it pushes Steve back into the wall. 

“Woah, easy there, big guy.” 

You angle Eddie toward the bathroom and he ducks low, shuffling sideways through the doorway. 

“Hmm,” you say, thinking aloud, “no way you're standing under that shower. Tell you what, if you sit in the tub I should be able to clean you.” 

He stares wide eyed, glancing down to his tattered underwear and back up to you. 

“You need help, Eddie, your arms broken and you shouldn't get it wet. Don't worry, I've seen- no wait, I've not seen anything like this before, but I'm a nurse. I can help you.” 

Eddie continues to stand there, a low growl beginning to vibrate out of his chest. You close and lock the bathroom door, then turn back to him with your arms folded. 

“Enough of that, you don't scare me. Pants off and in the tub. Now.” 

Snapping his teeth in annoyance, he hooks claws into his underwear and pulls them down. As he clambers awkwardly in you briefly see his member hanging between his legs before he cups himself and settles down, squished in the enamel bath. 

“Right, stick your bad arm out to the side, that's it, let me get the water running.” 

You unclip the tiny shower head and turn it on, directing the stream to the plug hole until it's warm enough. Then, you begin to clean him methodically, rinsing all the blood and grime away. His fur is soft, muscles flexing under each gentle touch of your fingertips. You rinse his head of hair under the shower head, massaging his scalp, and a noise bordering on a purr exudes from him. 

You're not sure if you should use shampoo over his whole body, but since all you can find to scrub him with is some drug store 3 in 1 and your bare hands, you suppose that will have to do. You begin to lather his head, rinse it off, and start working down his torso. He squirms, getting more tense the further down you go, until he starts hissing at each brush of your fingers.

“Eddie, what's wrong?” 

Voice tight and strained through his tense jaw, he manages a word. 

“Hurrrt.” 

“I'm sorry, I'm trying to be careful. Where does it hurt?” 

Throwing his head back, it smacks into the wall so hard the room shakes. 

“Eddie, I can't help if-” 

He looks at you and nods downwards towards his crotch, the one place you've avoided entirely so far. You follow his gaze and he awkwardly uncups himself. 

His cock is standing to attention, twitching and throbbing. The end is bulbous and as purple as his tongue, the shaft thick and long, snaking out from a base of matted fur. 

Your face glows with heat, blood pumping viciously to your cheeks. 

“Did- did it get, er, injured, yesterday?” 

He shakes his head, wincing with the movement.

“Do you want me to leave you for a minute?” 

It's practically a whisper. Eddie looks anywhere but your face. Moving his hand, he shows you that he can't hold around the shaft with his thick claws. 

“OK I get you,” you say, nerves shaking your voice.

You said you'd help him. You can just help him, right? 

“D-do you want me to help?” 

His eyes snap to yours, wide and wet. He doesn't move or say anything further, just stares. You reach down with your hand, checking up with his face. There's no change in his beastial features. Hesitantly, you cup the swollen head with your palm. He flinches, water cascading out of the tub, but doesn't take his eyes off you. 

Reaching down, you gather some lather from the grubby water and begin to move your hand up and down his bulky shaft. It feels hot to the touch, and solid as a rock underneath the soft feel of his delicate skin. The noise he makes is almost a sigh of relief, head leaning backward as his spine arches to your touch. 

You're struggling to get your hand around his thickness, so you extend your other arm and wrap both hands around his impressive length, stroking firmly up and down. Eddie starts whining in his throat, a desperate noise. He's thrusting into your grip, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. You start to feel throbbing between your own legs, a pulse thumping deep inside that's difficult to ignore. Focusing on your strokes, you push the feeling to the back of your mind.

You watch him instead, his chest heaving, legs beginning to shake as his dick leaks pre cum down your hands. Adding a twist to the tip of his head with each upstroke, he whimpers and whines in his throat. Impossibly, he seems to be getting even larger. You feel a bulbous growth at the base of his cock at the same time he releases, splattering cum over your fists, his chest, the water, his legs. You've never seen so much cum in all your life. He tenses all over, stifling a broken grunt from his maw. You go to move off him but he places a paw over your hand, a silent plea to keep you in place. So, you keep holding him firmly as his breath starts to regulate again. 

A few minutes later he lets you go, his cock still half hard and slightly submerged in the water. Not saying a word, you rinse him down, cleaning any remaining suds and sticky release off of him, not daring to look up at his face. Once that's done, you cough and stand up, grabbing a scratchy towel to dry him off with. As he gets out of the bath, water winding down the drain and gurgling in protest, you dry him off as best as you can, taking care to be gentle around the scabs and scars. The room smells like wet dog. Finally wrapping the towel around his waist, you step back, looking over his body to check if anything is bleeding. 

A clawed hand reaches to your face, the rough furry knuckle tucking under your chin, lifting it up. For the first time since it happened, you look back into his eyes, shame tumbling in your gut. 

“Thanks.” 

“Don't mention it.” 

He gestures widely at his torso, and you snap back to your senses. 

“Clothes! I'll- I'll find you something to wear, just- just hold on. I'll be back.” 

You stumble quickly out the bathroom, back slamming against the shut door and close your eyes. 

What in the absolute fuck was that? 

You have no answers. Surely you were just being a good friend? A really good friend. It didn't explain why you are turned on so much, your own thighs feeling wet and sticky, slick dampening your underwear. 

Nancy approaches as you snap your eyes open. 

“You OK? Can I help?” 

“Yeah, er, we need some clothes for him. Big clothes. Real big. Is there… anything?”

“Hmm,” she says, “I think I saw some of Hopper's old things in the closet. I can go out? Grab some things?” 

“That would be great, thanks.” 

She nods, flashing a tight lipped smile, and grabs her keys from the side. You search the closet and find a white t-shirt and some sweats, returning to the bathroom to help him put them on. The top is a stretch; on anyone else it'd be baggy but on him it looks like a muscle shirt. After some minor adjustments to the pants, which included cutting a hole for his tail, they fit well enough. 

“Listen, Eddie, I need to leave.” 

He snaps his head towards you, whining. 

“It's alright, I've just got a shift at the hospital. Nancy's getting some more clothes for you, and Steve's brought some food. Go. Go and eat, and I'll be back in a few hours.” 

He huffs, but moves carefully to the living room anyway. You explain what's happening to Steve, making sure to tell him to change the bedsheets, and turn to the front door. As you're about to leave, you hear a low, growling word that shakes through you and makes your eyes brim with emotion. It's your name. 

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

You shower and change at the hospital, willing your shift to be over and done with. Managing to explain away your disappearance last night to your boss with a trite story of helping with Search and Rescue, you breathe in the relief that you won't lose your job. He even understands that you need a couple of days leave; after you hint heavily that you had lost your family in the earthquakes of course. It's a dirty lie, your family doesn't even live near here anymore, but he doesn't need to know that. 

With all the medical emergencies, you're rushed off of your feet, which at least makes the time fly by. After the shift you race back to your apartment, flinging things in a bag. Changes of clothes, a bunch of leftover food from the freezer, and a tape player with a few tapes that you hope will cheer Eddie up. You change as well, putting on a summer dress and tennis shoes, trying to convince yourself you're not doing it for him. 

It's inexplicable; you're aching to see him again. It's like a limb has been severed and the phantom pain is excruciating. Which is fucking mental to say the least. You barely know him, and he's… changed. 

Driving like a woman possessed, you reach the dirt turning in record time, slamming the breaks when you reach Steve and Nancy's cars. At least he's not alone. 

As you jog toward the cabin, you hear a roar, one so loud it dislodges birds from their nests, flapping anxiously to escape. The jog turns into a run as you fly toward the front door, unceremoniously slamming it open. 

“Thank Christ it's you! I can't. I can't deal with him. Please.” 

Steve looks drained, begging you with wide eyes. There's a fresh cut under his eye with a small bruise forming. 

“What the hell happened?” 

Nancy approaches, placing a thin hand on your forearm. 

“Eddie, he's… we can't do anything, he just keeps calling your name.” 

“Roaring it, actually,” Steve adds, looking at your hand with the bulky bag in it. “Are you staying?” 

“Yeah, well I thought, I mean- I live alone. No one's gonna miss me for a few days. The hospital knows, so yeah. I suppose I'm staying.” 

A crash next door makes you all jump. 

“Are you gonna-” 

“Yes, I'm going in there. I'll be fine.” 

As you tiptoe to the door, you hear Steve mutter, ‘she must be one of us, she goes towards the scary noises.’

“Eddie.” 

It's nearly a whisper, but he hears, whipping around to face you. Before you can do anything he's striding forward and wrapping his fierce arms around you. You tense, expecting him to break your ribs, but you relax when the hug is soft. 

Your eyes scan the carnage in the room. The chair you'd sat on whilst nursing his injuries is in splinters on the floor. A cabinet looks like a bull ran into it, and there's glass under your shoes. 

The bed seems fine at least. Coaxing him gently, you lead him to it and perch on the edge. He sits next to you, not letting you go. 

“Eddie what the hell happened?” 

Unclenching his grip, he looks at you with tear filled eyes, anguish etched into his very skin. He's trying to form words, you can see it in the way he's concentrating, but they just won't come. Face screwed up, he balls his fist and howls when a claw digs into his own flesh, which only serves to exacerbate the ball of emotion that's fighting his insides. 

“It's OK, I'm here, just breathe.” 

His maw continues to open and shut, paw gesticulating wildly. You grasp it, being careful of his sharp claws, and try something else. 

“Alright, you can't use your words. That's fine, you can just let it out. Just like, awoooo!” 

You let out your own mini howl as he stares at you in disbelief. 

“Go on, it'll feel good. See? Awwooooo!” 

He stares at you with wide eyes, an almost amused look dancing within them. 

“See? I feel better. Awwooooo!” 

Shaking his large head, he gives you a side glance and tilts his head back to the heavens. 

“AARRROOOOOOO!” 

It's long and loud, bursting in your ears as a wall of sound. 

“Eddie that was awesome,” you gush, hand reaching to wind fingers into his curls. 

“Are you OK, I heard- oh.” 

Steve bursts in and sees you smiling, Eddie staring at you like a puppy. 

“Right, now that's just- what in the- I'll just-” 

He leaves looking stunned, never finishing a sentence. A giggle bubbles out of you, a silly little thing that dances in your chest. Eddie reaches to touch your hand in his hair but the claws hit first making you flinch at the sharpness. He looks at you, pained. 

“It's alright, you didn't hurt me. At least I can do something about that. Come with me.” 

You guide him up and out the room. Steve and Nancy leap off the couch, staring bug eyed, on the cusp of running. 

“It's fine, he's just- frustrated. It's a lot to deal with. I'm sure he's very sorry for scaring you, aren't you Eddie?” 

The last words are directed at him and he looks down at his feet. 

“-Orry.” 

“See? If you calm down a little you can speak. We're gonna cut his cla- his nails.”

Steve shakes his head, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but Nancy? Nancy just smiles, looking between the pair of you, like she just heard a secret. 

“I think we should go Steve,” she says, holding him by the elbow to guide him towards the door. 

“But we- what if he-” 

“Steve!” 

“Alright, alright! Keep your pants on. I hope you've got food in that big bag of yours, ‘cause he ate three whole rotisserie chickens. Three! Bones and everything.” 

“We’ll be fine. Trust me.” 

Nancy drags Steve out the door as he's shouting over his shoulder. 

“We'll check on you tomorrow!”

“OK!” 

The front door shuts and it's silent in the cabin. Coughing awkwardly, you look around the room searching, speaking as you do so. 

“Right, so, let's sort out the bedroom first.” 

A broom rests against a nearby wall, so you take it and sweep up the glass shards and bits of furniture and dump them outside. It's not perfect but at least you shouldn't cut your feet. 

“OK, nail clippers are not going to work. We need something…  is there a toolbox or…” 

Mumbling away, you finally locate a dusty red snapbox by the back door and extricate a pair of tin snips and a metal file. 

“These should do. Sit down Eddie, I'll put the TV on.” 

He does as he's told, carefully tucking his tail under as he perches on the couch. It screams with the weight but holds steady. 

You get to work, sorting out the claws on his feet before moving to his bearish hands. The TV mutters indistinctly in the background as you clip and file his claws to half their size; as close to his fingers as you dared. When you look up you see Eddie's gaze is transfixed on you. Ignoring the heat of his stare, you finish up, prodding the end of each nail with a finger pad. 

“See? No more scratching. Should be able to practise using your hands more too.” 

A heat rolls across your face at your own dirty thoughts. If Eddie notices, he doesn't say anything. 

“I brought some beers, you want one?” 

He can nod and shake his head now without pain, you've seen him moving with ease, but he chooses instead to blink slowly at you. Gasping a little, you get up and fetch the beers from the fridge and hand one over. It's tricky, but he manages to hold it, looking at you for validation. 

“See? That's great! You just need practice.” 

“Prrractice.” 

“Yes! That's really good, Eddie.” 

You beam a sunny smile at him but he looks down and away from you. 

“What is it?” 

Turning back with glassy eyes, he waves a hand at his new form. 

“-rreak.”

“Sorry, what?” 

“F-rreak.” 

“No! No, Eddie, stop,” you respond, holding one huge hand in both of yours, “you're not a freak. You're scared and, and different, and God knows this is a strange situation, but you're not a freak. You were never a freak.”

He brings one burly arm around your shoulders and hugs you tight to his chest. You can feel the pads of his fingers now, stroking at your arm. For some reason, that's what makes you cry. Tears fall unbidden, streaking down your face alarmingly fast. Eddie pulls away to look at you, eyes brimming with concern. 

“I'm fine, it's fine. Really. I just- I can feel your fingertips now.”

Eddie flashes the closest thing to a smile his new face can allow and laces his tough, furry fingers with yours. You sit like that for a while, drinking your beers and staring mindlessly at the TV. Eyes beginning to close of their own accord, you realise you need to go to sleep before you pass out. 

“I need to sleep Eddie. Hang on, I'm gonna go change.” 

You stand up, fishing a tank top and sleep shorts from your bag as well as a toothbrush, and go about getting ready for bed. 

When you return, the TV is off, and Eddie's sitting in a pair of plain black boxer shorts that Nancy must have bought him. 

“Eddie, do you think you can brush your teeth or do you need a hand?” 

He gets up determined and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Trusting he knows what he's doing, you make your way to the spare room. The bed is tiny and there's no duvet or pillow, just a ratty blanket. 

Eddie appears in the doorway. 

“No.” 

“Huh?” 

You turn and he waves a hand at the bed almost in disgust. Taking you by the arm, he leads you to the main bedroom. 

“You, herrre.” 

He turns and the word is out of your mouth before your brain has a chance to wake up. 

“Wait!” 

As he looks at you expectantly, you blush and stammer over your sentence. 

“I mean, that other bed- it's too small for you Eddie, and theres- there's no pillows and-” 

Reaching out with a paw-like hand, he settles it on your forearm gently. 

“Herrre?” 

“Yeah? If you don't mind, of course.” 

Without a further word he climbs onto the bed, covering himself with the duvet you'd found in the closet. You shut the light off and get in too, laying at the very edge of the bed, knees dangling over thin air. 

Eddie's not having that though. His arm swipes over and pulls you close so fast air leaves your lungs in a gasp. You settle into him, hand laying on his chest, a furry leg underneath your knee. 

“Goodnight Eddie.”

“-Night.” 

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

When morning rolls around you find yourself alone in the bed, a cold dip in the mattress next to you. There's noise coming from the kitchen area but it sounds contained; nothing like the sounds you heard when you arrived yesterday. 

The bandage and sticks you hastily splinted his arm with are discarded in a pile on the floor. The material looks like it had been ripped apart by sharp teeth. 

Padding out of the room on bare feet you see Eddie's back. The fur along his spine is longer and thicker than the rest, and his tail is swishing. It's sticking out of the hole you made in a pair of sweatpants as he wiggles a frying pan. 

“Morning Eddie. Your arm healed already?” 

He flicks a glance over his shoulder and flashes his canine teeth, waving the arm around to show you. 

“-orrning. Bet-terr.” 

“Are you making breakfast?” 

He points to a plate next to him where a haphazard tower of pancakes sit. 

“Prractice.” 

You walk over, shivering a little. Someone's going to have to do something about the holes in the ceiling here. Making a mental note to speak with Steve, you cross the room and stand next to Eddie. 

“You need any help?” 

He shakes his head and gestures to the table. 

“Sit. Eat.” 

You pick a couple of pancakes up and put them on a small plate and unearth an ancient bottle of maple syrup from a cupboard. The pancakes are surprisingly good; you find a hair in one but don't mention it. 

“Eddie, these are delicious! Thank you.” 

“You'rre -elcome.” 

“And you're speaking so well!” 

“Prrractice.” 

He sits opposite you with an enormous plate stacked high with pancakes, offering another to you. Taking one more, you place it neatly on your plate. 

“Thanks but that's it. I know you need practice but we don't need so many-”

He picks up two and puts them in his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing and picking up three more. 

“-Oh. We're gonna need more food.”

Eddie nods, finishing the stack of pancakes in less than a minute. When he's done, his thick tongue lulls out to lick his fingers. It's so long, practically wrapping around each individual digit. 

Mouth hanging open, you snap it shut and close your eyes for a moment trying to will the hedonistic thoughts you're having to stop swirling around your brain. 

When you open them again he's staring at you intensely, a hint of amusement in those soulful eyes. 

Looking down to avoid that stare, you ask something that you've been dying to find out. 

“Eddie, can I ask- are you still, you, in there? Like completely? Or is it, different?” 

He looks away, seemingly thinking. It's a while before he turns back, face contorting with the effort of words. 

“Still -e, I think. Head… fog-gy. Hurrts. Prrractice.” 

You nod and reach for his hand, proud of him for his longest sentence yet. He holds yours gently; the thumb rubbing back and forth over your knuckles showing much better dexterity than yesterday.

A loud knock at the door startles you both, until you hear Steve's voice ring out.

“It's me, it's Steve! You alive?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes and you stifle a giggle. 

“No Steve, I died! I was maimed! Blood and guts everywhere!” 

You smile as you say it, winking at Eddie. Steve barges in, shaking his head. 

“Ha ha, very funny. Excuse me for caring,” he turns to Eddie, voice softer than before, “how you feeling, buddy?” 

Eddie flashes his teeth. 

“Bet-terr.” 

“Good, awesome. Hey, did I miss breakfast?” 

“Sure did. Eddie made it.” 

“Really?” 

Steve looks stunned, glancing back and forth between the two of you. 

“Yup, he did. All on his own. Actually, while you're here, we need to fix those holes in the roof. At least board them up or something.” 

“Yeah sure, I can do that, but I'll need a hand.” 

“I… can hel-p.” 

The boys get to work and you leave them to it. You busy yourself too; dusting and cleaning the cabin, hanging a sheet up in the bedroom as a makeshift curtain, and making a list of everything you need from the store foodwise. Then, you add even more to it, including four rotisserie chickens. 

Whilst food is on your mind, you make a huge pile of sandwiches and call them both in for lunch. Steve looks shocked at the amount of food.

“Woah, don't think we need all-” 

Eddie shakes his head and grabs two sandwiches, putting them both in his mouth at once. 

“Ah. Right.” 

“I think he needs a lot of food because of the injuries. He healed so quickly, I mean, he's got to get the energy from somewhere, right?” 

Steve slowly nods, looking at Eddie as he stuffs another sandwich in his mouth. 

“Yeah, I guess. Plus, look at the size of him.” 

Eddie swallows thickly and stares at the pair of you. 

“Can… hearrr you. Rrrude.” 

“Sorry, you're right, that was rude of us Eddie.” 

You reach a hand out and stroke his arm; his gaze immediately softens. 

“Wow, you're like, the Eddie whisperer or some shit.” 

Eddie growls in his throat. 

“Hey, that wasn't about you it was about her!” 

After lunch, they get back to work, completing the patch job on the roof in a few hours. By the time they're done, the sun is starting to set. Steve leaves the pair of you, taking the shopping list and promising he and Nancy will be back tomorrow with fresh supplies. You offer him some money which he swears blind he doesn't need, but you give it to him anyway. 

Once dinner is demolished, you and Eddie sit on the couch, watching some made for TV movie. Well, he seems to be watching it. You're uncomfortable, thighs clenching in an effort to put out the raging fire between them. Hyper aware of his arm over your shoulders, you try to block all the horny signals to your brain but it's not working. Huffing loudly, you bite your lip, shuddering at each touch of his gnarled finger pads on the smooth skin of your arm. 

“You good?” 

You glance up and see Eddie's eyes boring into you. 

“Yeah, of course, I'm great.” 

“Liarrr.” 

Flashing his teeth, he lets out a rough chuckling sound. You press your lips together firmly, refusing to respond. 

“You want me. You… want… this.” 

He points to his mouth, tongue dipping out past his sharp teeth, far longer than a tongue had any right to be. He twirls it in a little circle and puts the purplish muscle back in his mouth. 

“Oh really?” You reply hotly, “and what makes you think that, huh?” 

“Can scent.” 

“What?” 

Wordlessly, he points between your legs. Clenching your thighs harder, you glow scarlet, face igniting with such heat that it almost hurts. 

“Eddie, you can't just say that's it- it's impolite!!” 

Letting out a little howl of amusement, he strokes up and down your back with his large hand sending shivers through your spine. 

He's not wrong. Your panties are clinging to your wet heat uncomfortably, thighs sodden with false anticipation. Your blood is on fire, pumping fast and hard to your aching clit. It's bewildering; you've never felt so needy in all your life. He must be letting out some pheromones or something, brain grasping wildly at straws for an explanation. 

“-Orry. Just… you help-ed mme. I can… help you.” 

“I don't think- I'm not sure that's a good idea. I mean, your heads all foggy, you said, and, and-” 

“Want to.” 

He looks entirely serious, meeting your gaze with hardly a blink. 

Are you really gonna do this? 

Your body is protesting the lack of a decision, pulse thumping hard in your cunt as if to remind you of your predicament. It takes over, urging your hands under your dress to peel off your sticky underwear and put them to one side. Eddie doesn't move, waiting for you to speak, but you can see his pupils are blown, eyes nearly fully black. His snout is snuffling the air, tasting you through his nose. 

“Could you… please?” 

Tears are stinging your eyes at the discomfort. Eddie blinks once slowly at you, and immediately crouches to his hands and knees on the floor. As he crawls between your thighs, it strikes you that the movement seems more natural than him standing like a person. Gently, he slides your dress up your legs and pushes your legs apart with his giant hands. 

You're waiting for the first touch of his tongue, but it doesn't come. First, he smells you, inhaling your cunt so deeply that embarrassment blooms in your chest. The growling, humming noise that emanates from him vibrates into your very bones; it's laced with such desire that your thighs begin to quiver. 

Then, he tastes you; tongue lapping at your sex suddenly. You were expecting it, but you weren't expecting the sheer relief that flooded your senses at the first touch of his dripping maw. He slathers it all over you, cleaning your slick from the tops of your thighs, tongue slithering through your folds, around your clit, right down to your ass, as if he can't get enough of the taste of you. 

Whining and bucking your hips up already, he growls, holding you open with one brutish hand as the other pushes into the softness of your belly pinning you in place. You can see where his thick blunted claws push at your flesh, leaving dimples on your stomach. 

Then his tongue is writhing inside of you, twirling and dancing, hitting spots no other tongue could ever reach. Moans are ripped from your chest, the kind of sounds you would never dare to make before. Pathetic whines, hoarse shouts, screeching cries of pure pleasure. His snout is pressed firmly up against your clit; it's scrunched with the pressure, and each flick of his head makes him nussle it over and over. 

Despite Eddie's firm hand holding you down, you still manage to thrash about, legs twitching and back bucking uncontrollably. Your walls are convulsing around his muscle, fluttering with each pulse. He tongue fucks you in earnest then, knowing you're reaching that crescendo as your noises get even louder. 

You're beyond words. You couldn't tell him you were about to come if your life depended on it. The only word you can manage is a high pitched squeal of his name as your release floods out of you, slick gushing over his face. 

He laps it up, tongue washing over you as you collapse back into the sofa cushions, throat hoarse from yelling. There's an odd, murmuring grunt sound coming from him, the same sound over and over. As your ears finally stop ringing you release he's mumbling a word into you, almost incomprehensible in between licks. 

“Mine. Mine, mine… mmmmine.” 

Over and over he says it; like a mantra, a prayer to your cunt. Eventually you have to tug him away by his hair to stop him compulsively lapping at you. 

He looks up, dazed eyes starting to refocus as he pants like a dog. You pat the fur on his neck over and over, rubbing your fingers through it, your stare desperately trying to tell him what a good job he did. 

As he sinks down and sits on the floor, you join him, sliding off the couch and crawling into his lap. He holds you close, nose nuzzling your neck. 

“Wan’ kiss you.” 

You know what he means. He wants to kiss you properly, like a man and a woman kiss. Not like a beast. 

You cradle his head, making your hands appear tiny in comparison, and twist your fingers gently in his fur. Pulling his closed maw toward you, you press your lips against it softly, nudging his nose with yours like he did with your neck. It seems to placate his needs. He keeps his arms in a tight embrace around you as you move your heads as one, nudging your faces together, letting actions speak instead of words. 

For the second time in as many days, you wonder what the hell you're getting yourself into. 

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

“Eddie, come try this!” 

Calling from the kitchen, you mix batter in a huge bowl, trying to work out if you've used enough sugar. Technically speaking, you're not a chef. Far from it. The last cake you made sank in the middle so much it resembled a sad bundt cake. 

“Eddie?” 

All you hear is muffled music playing from the bedroom. You go and investigate, spatula in hand, and gently swing the door open. 

Eddie's shirtless, his sweats hanging low on his hips, with his guitar slung around his neck. His muscles flex with every strum of his fingers, face screwed in concentration as he attempts to follow along with the tape.

“Eddie?” 

Finally he glances up, eyebrows unknitting as he looks at you. 

“Wherre you find… the aprrron?” 

You'd forgotten about the apron. Glancing down, you see flour dusting it. You brush it off absentmindedly and look back at him. 

“Oh, it was in a drawer.” 

“Hot.” 

You giggle, cheeks flushing. 

“What you doing Eddie? Practising?” 

He huffs, taking his guitar and laying it gently against the bed. 

“Trrrying. Not good enough.” 

“Yet.” 

Exposing his teeth in a bestial smile, he walks over to you. 

“Yet. What you calling forrr?” 

He tilts his head, exposing the fuzzy tip of his ear through his hair, rough hand rubbing up your arm.

“Oh, I see. You could hear me, hmm?” You place your hand on your hip dramatically. He nods, crowding over you, making your breath hitch in your throat, as thick furry fingers stroke at your skin. 

“Well, I was asking you to try this.” 

You tap his nose with the end of the spatula, leaving behind a splat of uncooked cake batter. His maw opens in shock as you laugh. 

“Don't… do…” 

“What, don't do this?” 

You get him again, this time on his cheek, smudging the mixture in the soft fur. He raises an eyebrow at you, face stoic as he crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. He'd look intimidating, if it wasn't for the batter dripping off his snout. 

“What you gonna do about it, huh?” 

He takes a step backward, unfolding his arms, and cracks his neck from side to side. His knuckles are next, popping with the stretch. Then, he starts growling out a low countdown. 

“One… two… thrrree…” 

“Oh, it's like that is it?” 

“...fourrr… five…” 

You run out of the room, flinging the spatula onto the kitchen side, and look for somewhere to go, but there isn't anywhere. This place is tiny. Jogging around the couch, you hear Eddie roar like a lion and your pulse quickens. He shoulders nonchalantly out the bedroom, crouching low. Adrenaline hits you as you try to work out how to get past. 

Attempting to fake him out, you run one way, then immediately double back, dashing around the back of the couch. Eddie's moves are a blur, husky arm scooping you up by the waist and dragging you over his shoulder in an instant. Kicking and giggling, you bash at his back trying to get him to let go, but you may as well pound on a concrete wall. 

There's a sudden rush of air and your back meets the wooden floor, landing with a soft ‘ooft’ noise. He pins you down, powerful legs straddling you, holding both your arms over your head with one brutish hand almost lazily. It easily circles both of your wrists. 

Taking his free hand, he scoops the mixture off of his nose and licks it with his tongue, twirling it around until every last bit is gone. You're breathing heavily. That display, teamed with him wrestling you to the ground so easily, has your heart thumping a tattoo inside your chest. 

He makes a face, scrunching his snout. 

“That bad?” 

“I know… what rrrather eat.” 

Flashing his pointed teeth, he runs his tongue over them, looking at you like you're his favourite meal. He leans in close, hot breath fanning your face. 

“You like this.” 

“No.” You say, even though you're trembling and hot all over. 

“Liarrr.” He says it whilst tapping his nose. 

He pushes his body against yours so you can feel his solid bulge pressing up against your core. Nothing can stop the whimper that gurgles out your throat, no matter how much you bite your lip. 

A warm hand paws at your breast over the apron as his tongue dances across the shell of your ear. Pushing upward with your hips, you make a futile attempt at escaping. Not that you want to, but the game is just getting good. He growls in your ear and the sound shoots straight to your cunt…

Then the front door flies open. 

“So we got- Jesus Eddie, no! Get the hell off her!” 

Steve drops paper bags on the floor as you both turn your heads to face him. Nancy's running in beside him trying to drag him backwards by the elbow. 

“Steve, I don't think-” 

“It's not what it looks like!” You stammer it out as Steve gawps. 

“What- what's going on!” 

Nancy turns him so he has to look at her, talking to him like a child. 

“Steve, when a man and a woman like each other very much-” 

His face immediately starts glowing scarlet. Eddie clambers off you and holds one hand out to lift you off the floor, hunching awkwardly to try and hide his erection as he takes refuge behind the couch. 

“Seriously? Him? He's- he's-” 

He gestures widely at Eddie. You hear a snarling coming from behind you so you hold a hand out to calm him, fingers meeting soft fur. Your eyes harden as you stare sternly at Steve.

“He's Eddie. He's just Eddie. He might look different but he's still here, and you're being… rude.” 

“You're right, I'm sorry,” he looks over to Eddie sheepishly, “sorry Munson, I didn't mean-” 

“Don't worrry, I… underrrstan’. Harrrd to rremem-berrr… even forrr mme.”

Steve looks surprised at how much his speech has come on, but he doesn't mention it. Instead, he holds out a hand, taking Eddie's giant one in his own and shaking it. 

“Listen, I got what you asked for, it should be all here. If you're both alright, we'll get out of your fur- shit- hair! Out of your hair!” 

Eddie snickers low in his throat as Steve tries to hide his face from his own faux pas. 

After packing the food away, and a couple of hugs and goodbyes, they leave you it. Nancy promises they'll be back in a couple of days to check in, and that they'll knock first. 

Once you're both alone you breathe a sigh of relief, turning to Eddie. 

“I'm sorry about him.” 

Eddie looks down, clutching the back of the couch. 

“I'm s-orry. Should have… ask-ed you out beforrre… this.” 

You round the couch and grasp his bicep in your hands, staring at his side profile. 

“Hey, hey, you didn't know this was gonna happen. How could you ask me out? It's not like you even noticed me really before, right?” 

Eddie refuses to meet your gaze. His eyelashes are dipping down, nearly kissing his cheeks. 

“Eddie?” 

He rumbles a sound out, shaking his head, making his hair ripple about his shoulders. 

“I… lik-ed you. Wan-ted you. Was… scarrred. You werrre.. arrre… too good forrr mme.” 

An ache settles in your chest at his words, face creasing with anguish.

“Oh... Oh, Eddie, don't do that. I'm here now. And I'm not too good, that's just not true.” 

Your fingers wind into his fur, trying to tug him around but it's no use. You can see the tension in his arm underneath. 

So, if that isn't working, you'll try something else. 

“Seems I won.” 

His head turns quickly then, staring at you, muzzle wrinkled in confusion. 

“Our little chase?”

You wipe the remnants of cake batter off of his cheek with two fingers. He watches you intently as you bring them to your mouth, pushing them deep inside and hollowing your cheeks. Eddie grunts, maw extending open slightly as he swallows thickly in his throat. You suck hard, and pull your fingers out, running the flat of your tongue up and around them, leaving a string of spit behind. 

“I think you're right, that doesn't taste good.” 

Eddie's staring at you, eyes nearly black as his tongue lulls from his mouth, panting. 

“So, I won. I got free, didn't I?” 

Eddie's ribs are rising and falling distinctly. He steps toward you, the back of his hand dragging its coarse knuckles over your cheek. 

“Don't count… Caught you.” 

“Yeah? And I got free! So I win, right? Unless you don't think that's fair?” 

Snout nuzzling at your hairline, he breathes in your scent deeply and cups your face, pulling it towards his. You kiss his mouth gently, crushing soft lips against his hard jaw. He pushes his maw against you, opening his mouth and snaking his tongue between your lips. 

It's messy, tongues licking each other as spit pools and drips down your chin. His burly hand rests on the back of your head, covering it completely, forcing you to stay in place, while the other reaches down to grasp at the flesh of your ass. 

When you break away, you're both panting, breathing laboured and ragged. 

“Woah. Fuck,” you huff out between hard exhales, “you can kiss.” 

“Interrrrup-ted.”

“Huh?” 

You're dizzy from the kiss, lips red and swollen, still slightly parted as his fingers trace down your back. 

“We werre… interrrup-ted. Don't count.” 

“Ah, I see. So what do you-” 

“One. Two… thrrree…” 

This time you fly from his grip and race out the room, considering the bathroom for a second before you dive wildly into the main bedroom. Eyes scanning as quickly as you can, you see a trap door at the foot of the bed. 

It swings open when you pull the rusted metal ring and you stick your head inside. It's little more than a crawl space, full of cobwebs and mouldy boxes. You scrabble inside and snap the trap door shut just as you hear a bellowing roar from the other room. 

He won't actually be expecting you to hide, and you're rather pleased with yourself at the spot you'd managed to find, laying on your back wedged in the stuffy space. 

The door swings open and you will your heart to slow down. Surely he can hear it hammering from here? It's thumping loudly in your own ears, blood whooshing through your head. 

The floorboards creak with each step he takes. When he falls to the ground suddenly, crawling on all fours, your thighs clench. 

“Sweet-hearrrt…I know you’rrre herrre… can smell you…” 

His sing-song tone, along with the growling purr of his voice had you biting your lip so hard you could taste tin.

You follow the shadow of his form through the slats, not daring to move, not daring to breathe. Suddenly his massive furred arm swipes under the bed, catching nothing but air. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. 

He goes entirely still, pressing his snout to the floor, and sniffs between the floorboards. You can see his nose twitching just above your head.

“Arrre you… in the crrrawlspace?” 

He sounds impressed, finding the trap door only a second later. Light floods your hiding place as you try to wriggle your body away from him, but there's no room. In an instant he's got your ankles in his clutches as you shriek in protest, pulling you from the gap below. 

In seconds he scoops you up and hurls you on the bed as if you weigh nothing at all, then jumps on top of you, pinning you down as the bed springs squeak dramatically. 

“Cleverrr… but can't hide from mme…” He purrs, and leans closer to your ear, voice a deeper, threatening growl. 

“I can smell yourrr cunt.” 

You take a sharp inhale at his words. As if your pussy could understand him, you feel squelching wetness seep out, aching to be touched.

Eddie sits up, straddling you, and rips your apron and top in half as easily as tissue paper, exposing bare flesh. Greedily, he lathes his tongue from the nape of your neck down to your breasts, swirling it around each nipple leaving a trail of spit in its wake.

Your skin itches, flashing red hot, the throbbing between your legs becoming unbearable. You're whimpering, close to tears with the sheer need for him.  

“Eddie, Eddie please.” 

Wasting no time he climbs off the bed and yanks your jeans off in one go, not bothering to even unzip them, and does the same with his sweats. Standing fully to attention, his monstrous length looks painfully hard, throbbing purple. 

You hook fingers into the waistband of your panties to take them off, but Eddie slaps your hand away, and leans down, hot breath dancing over the skin of your thighs. Sharp teeth graze your abdomen, not enough to cut your skin but enough to leave angry red marks in a pathway to your sex. 

Then he's gripping your underwear in his teeth and ripping the flimsy lace off, leaving it in shreds. The feral gesture has you groaning out loud, thighs immediately opening to him. A thick tongue slivers through your folds, tasting you, until he presses a clawed finger to your opening, thrusting it inside with no warning. 

“Fuck, that- that feels so good!” 

Just like when he went down on you, that familiar rush of relief at his ministrations pours over you, nearly bringing you to tears. He moves up the bed, other arm holding him steady above your head so he can crowd your senses, intently watching your face as he fucks you with his finger. 

He forces another finger in making you cry out, small hand gripping at his forearm to try and slow him down, but his movements are unrelenting. 

“Eddie, too much, please-” 

He growls, the sound making you clench even more around him as he curls his fingers, keeping them painfully deep inside. 

“Have to. You need… to take me… prrrincess.” 

You nod your understanding as you wince at the stretch, but the discomfort melts away as your release slinks up your spine, heat pooling in your belly making you moan and push back into his grip. His rough palm presses harshly into your clit, thick skin slipping against the silken nub.

“See… goood girrrrl.” 

You clutch at his fur as your orgasm expels from your body, throwing your head back into the mattress as your cunt gushes around his grip violently. He purrs his satisfaction in your ear and pulls his fingers from you. Rubbing them over his pulsating shaft, he spreads your slick and holds his girth by the base. 

“Eddie, I-I'm ready, I need you.” 

Grunting at your words, he forces the swollen head into your soaked folds. Your eyes snap tightly shut as you cling desperately to muscle and fur. Seemingly unable to control himself, he thrusts his whole length straight into you, tilting his head back and roaring so loud that dust falls from the ceiling. 

You're expecting blinding pain at the enormity of his length but it doesn't come. Instead, that first thrust pulls a second orgasm from you, one so profound that it fizzes through your every nerve and leaves spots in your vision. The blazing heat of your skin subsides as you throb around him, your prior discomfort melting away entirely. The same sureness that settled in your gut when you arrived is back. This is where you're supposed to be. 

No words come from Eddie, just forceful thrusts and throaty noises as he fucks into you like an animal. He's on his hands and knees, one arm dipping into the small of your back, holding you firmly against him as he forcefully humps into you, using you. The slick sounds of your conjuncture echo through the cabin; all wet sucking noises, gravelly growls and high pitched moans. 

Suddenly he snarls, teeth exposed, and grabs you by the hips, flinging you to the floor on your front. Your breath leaves you in shock, wooden boards rough against your naked skin. Yanking your ass in the air by the flesh of your hips he forces his throbbing member back inside, fucking into you so harshly that it's hard to stay upright. You're slipping forward with each piston of his hips, arms trembling with effort. 

Eddie's panting, pools of drool gathering at the base of your neck, mixing and mingling with your sweat. A sharp pain cuts through all the pleasure, ripping into the meat of your shoulder, causing you to scream and tense up, pussy fluttering pathetically around him. It pushes you over that precipice once again, the hurt and the bliss intertwining into a mass of feeling, tangled and twisted, unable to exist without the other. 

His member swells, growing impossibly, and a bulbous growth locks in you as he releases with a desperate broken howl. You feel the pumping of his cum deep inside, coating your trembling walls, claiming you.

A minute or so later he's collapsing to the side, pulling you close with his bearish arm, still firmly buried inside your cunt. Time seems to stop as you both pant, gasping for air, tangled in his furry embrace. As his breathing finally slows, he manages to purr one word in your ear. 

“Mine.”

Part 2

Taglist (if you want to be added please send me a PM)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

[ourautumn86]

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡

Joseph Quinn x Fem! reader PT.2

LINK TO PART 1!!

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

✧ Synopsis;; Joseph Quinn was filthy rich, for he was royalty. Handsome, charming and a gentleman, a dream dressed in pure silk for any kind of woman. But not you.

✧ y/n is a mere slave of a nobel family who just turned 18. On the night of the prince’s royal ball she is dragged against her will to this dance just to be used as a coat rack for the purses and coats of the family ladies, who, of course, treat her like absolute sh’t, to the point where they could agreed to hand her over for a generous amount of gold

“Just name your price, sweetheart.”

“Screw you, my prince.”

Just how lucky you were for had caught the

prince’ s attention!

< enemies to lovers 3

17th century royalty!

A/N;; i’m sorry if this is sloppy and like…, BAD, english is not my mother language and it’s my first joseph x reader story. either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!!!

CW;; this series might include 18+ content (details will be given at the start of each new part uploaded) MINORS DNI AND SKIP!!!

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

WARNINGS PART TWO: cursing, blood, violence and a nude scene(?)

WORD COUNT;; +2,5k

(A/N pt.2; it is much enjoyable(??) if you read it with a british accent since this fic takes placed in the U/K)

:¨·.·¨:

`·. lastly; enjoy! <3

‘Because from now on you belong in this castle.’

You stepped back at his words, his smile never dropping as you amused him with your fighting against the maids that had returned in a clap of his hands. “You shall let them help you with your clothes and washing, I promise you you’ll feel better once you’ve found yourself clean.” he tried to convince you, his brown eyes glistening under the lights and his voice soft as a caress.

“I can take my clothes off myself.” you spit, your hands making your way to the back of your dress to unbuckle the single button that was left, among those who had fallen off through the years, and undo the bow that molded it’s skirt to your slim waist, letting your clothes slip to the floor and around your feet, leaving you completely naked to their sight since no petticoat had been given to you by your old family.

The maids gasped, as you had dared to undress yourself in front of the prince, whose eyes never left yours, not really budging at your actions for he was a ‘gentleman’. His smile only grew up more, which you’d started finding pretty goddamn annoying.

“Then, I shall excuse myself… Ladies.” he bowed to the maids, who did the same and said their goodbyes.

“Oh, bless my soul!” Ballard exclaimed as his eyes accidentally took a glance of your naked body once the door had opened, quickly adverting them to his right.

You gave them your back as he closed the door with a mocking smile towards his right hand, your feet, and later on your whole body, being surrounded in clear warm water for what you thought it was the first time in your life.

You sighed in relief and sank deeper into the bathtub, letting your eyes close once a pair of hands started washing your long hair, getting lost in the feeling of it all, in its warmth.

“I won’t put that on.” you shook your head at the dress that was currently being showed to you. Starting from the fact that it’s skirt was way too big for you to freely and comfortably move around, the puff on its sleeves looked ridiculous and seemed really troublesome and the corset which strings stood in the bag really threatened your ability to breath. It was a simple and definite no for you. And the color! That shade of yellow won’t flatter you, that’s for sure.

“It seems that the dresses that Lord Ballard sent are no good…” one of the maids sighed, tossing the last one of them aside.

“What a pity…” you falsely pouted, adjusting yourself in the padded chair you had been forced to sit on so the women could take care of your hair.

“Well, there’s still the one that the prince sent! Let’s give it a try.” a brunette one smiled, to which you huffed, you hair being combed by another maid that simply giggled, really entertained by your reactions. “Where was it…, ah, yes!” she seemed to find it, her gentle fingers taking a grip on the strip sleeves of the dress to reveal it to the rest, who let out a delighted gasp.

“Crumbs*! It’s beautiful!” the maid that combed your hair exclaimed, her eyes shining as brightly as the rest of the ladies’.

It was a really simple dress, though it looked more like a nightgown. It was made out of the most beautiful lace you’ve ever seen. It was light blue, and large, enough to cover your thighs, ending below your knees. It had different layers of silk and lace of all types with little ruffles and decorations. The chest was made out of two triangles of silk with lace surrounding them in a soft-looking way that made you…, not hate it. In fact, it was really beautiful.

“Would you like to try it on, miss?” they all inquired, hoping for a positive answer since they seemed to have fallen in love with the dress.

“Well, it’s the most… pleasant to the eyes,” you muttered, trying to not show your true feelings about that piece of clothing, winning exited smiles from the ladies, who helped you to stand and took off your body the towel that embraced you to help you get on the dress.

You felt free in it. It moved with you and it let you breath, and it was so soft. You jumped and twirled, testing the waters. Nothing seemed to get exposed, what made you really happy. Your incredibly long hair caressed your almost bare back, falling to your waist. Your fingers went through it in awe, no knots being found. You smelled like pure lilies and you felt so clean and soft that you almost felt the urge to cry once you’ve taken a glimpse at your reflection in a mirror the maids lent you. You touched your clean face in disbelief, your cheek was bruised and stung when touched, the same as your lips, but your wounds have been cleaned and your skin looked so pure you felt unrecognizable, always being greeted by your reflection full of dirt, cuts and bruises in the pond’s water you used to visit when the mistress’ clothes needed washing.

“You look truly wonderful, miss.” one of the maids said, the rest nodding and agreeing with her, and just when you were about to thank them for their help with a smile, two knocks at the door caught yours and their attention, the prince stepping in after a short minute just in case you were still getting dressed.

“I apologize for my intrusion, ladies. Is everything alright, here?” he asked as he stepped in, along with Ballard, his eyes quickly finding your back and later on when you had turned to face him, your eyes. He simply stood there, silently staring at you, his eyes capturing every single detail in your body and sinking deep in the way you looked…, with the dress he had chosen himself. “You chose it…” he smiled, his eyes finding yours once again, his soft voice reaching you.

“Well of course, it is the most comfortable amongst them all.” you said, looking down at the dress, catching him staring as you did.

He cleared his throat before bringing his hands from his back to the front, letting you see a couple of, really low heels, almost flat silk shoes. “I brought these, though I couldn’t find anything more comfortable, I’m afraid.” he awkwardly smiled, stepping closer and kneeling in front of you, what caused you and the maids to step back in astonishment and Ballard to whisper-yell a ‘Your highness!’. “May I?” he inquired, one of his palms facing upward as he signaled to your feet. You slowly and unsurely nodded, surprised by his actions, but allowing him help you put on the shoes.

You could guess what everyone was thinking at the moment;

Why in the world was the prince of the realm, no one else than Joseph Quinn, kneeling and helping a slave like you put on some shoes?

You slightly bent down to take a better glimpse at them. They were white with a little piece of lace surrounding its collar. They were beautifully simple, and they looked really comfortable. When you put your feet back down on the floor you could agree on your judgement by their appearance. Compared to your wooden ones, this shoes felt like walking on clouds. When your sight drifted from them, your eyes met the prince’s once he had gotten off the marble floor once again.

“Well?” his eyebrows rose in anticipation, wanting to know your opinion on them. Everyone seemed to.

“They are not too bad.” you shrugged, your pride making him smile and let out a soft and short laughter. The tension inside the room seemed to dissipate with that sound.

“I’m glad to hear that.” he nodded, making his way back to the door. “Then? Are you ready to go and eat supper?” he offered you, opening the door whilst his eyes looked into yours.

You glared at him for a couple of seconds, still not truly trusting nor liking him, but still decided to take your first step. And after the first one came a second, and later on; a third.

His eyes never left your body as you exited first, waving your hand to the maids as a quick goodbye, which they returned. He bowed at them before closing the door. You awaited next to Ballard in the corridor, which was carpeted with crimson velvet carpets and glistened under the candles of the chandeliers above your heads.

“Shall I fetch the cooks and maids to set up the table, your highness?” the blonde spoke, his hands intertwined behind his back, which stood straight, awaiting for an answer.

“You shall not.” he shook his head. “I wouldn’t like them to work so much this late at night.” the singing of the cuckoo clock hitting midnight catching your attention as your eyes met with the wooden cuckoo that jumped in and out of its home. You wandered through the corridor, your fingers detailing the marble and wood of the oak chest you found on your left, plagued with porcelain decorations and flowers. There were multiple of them through the interminable corridor, perhaps for embellishment. “Though I would appreciate it if you could fetch something for her. I could wager all the gold I have in my hands that she hasn’t eaten for days.” he seemed concerned, his smile fading for a couple of seconds before appearing once again when he saw you twirling around a porcelain doll sculpture of a ballerina.

Not even the blonde could understand his actions nor read whatever wondered inside his mind. But he thought he could just wait for whatever the future would offer.

“Sure, your highness. I’ll make sure to send it to her room in no time.” he nodded, after a ‘thank you’ from his friend and prince heading the other way.

You were about to place down another sculpture that you had picked up when his voice startled you.

“It’s Greek.” you felt your heart plummet to your stomach when it slipped from your hands, his being quick enough to catch it in the air. “Almost a was.” he mocked you with a smile, putting it back down on the chest amongst the others.

“Didn’t know the prince would be into collecting porcelain.” you winded him up.

“That would be my mother, the queen.” he chuckled. “Along with the king she has parted to the east to meet Rembrandt and discuss about his new works of art.” he explained, making you now understand his announcement at his ball, asking forgiveness for the monarchs’ absence. “Though I must admit, I take pleasure in pretty things.” his eyes met yours and for a moment you felt as if you were frozen in place, the only warmth you felt being the touch of his fingers gracing yours on top of the oak chest, after his hand had fallen near yours. Your eyes met his hand and later on his eyes again, pulling away from his warmth after a couple of seconds.

“And what does beauty mean to you, your highness?” you inquired him, giving him your back and taking a few steps away from him. “Perhaps gold? Diamonds? Maybe castles?” your hair softly fell on your shoulder as your turned back to face him once again, your dress beautifully dancing along with you.

He just silently stared at you, his hands once again on his back as he took a couple of steps closer to you, a smile tugging on his lips. “I guess I still have yet to find out.” his brown eyes found yours once he stood by your side, the amber of the candles shining on them. There was something in them that you could not read. “Then, shall we?” his eyes left yours just to show you the way in which you supposed you should head to to meet ‘your room’. You seemed unsure for a couple of seconds, to which he decided to taunt you a little bit more. “After you, sweetheart.” he moved aside, giving you a little bit of space.

“Don’t you dare call me that again.” he laughed at your rudeness.

You gave him a side look before taking a step forwards, and then another, and another, the moonlight of the windows hitting your skin, perfectly matching with the color of your dress.

He took a deep breath before following you.

What beauty was…, huh?

“I hope you find the room to your liking. If you are in need of more pillows or sheets just ask for them, alright? You can ask one of the maids to light up the chimney for you if the night gets too cold too.” he said while opening the door and letting you step inside. It was spacious and beautifully decorated. As you stepped in, the very first thing you could see was a huge window that met the gardens of the castle, to your left a chimney with red velvet sofas and a central tea table with books on top of it, you could find more of them on the willow bookcases on both sides of the chimney. And to your right you could find a queen size bed with puffy white sheets, a white dosel and an incredible amount of pillows of all kinds, along with oak nightstands with candles and a big white closet. When you looked upwards your eyes met with the shiniest of chandeliers.

Once you’ve turned around to meet his eyes once again, these caught a glimpse on a food trolley.

“The maids discussed that since you’ve probably not eaten in days it would be better for you to eat something soft so it wouldn’t upset your stomach.” he said, while taking off the top of the plate cover, the smell of chicken stew along with baked potatoes and steamed vegetables making your mouth water. But that was not really what caught your attention. “I apologize if you find it too-”

And before he could even finish his sentence or take a hold onto your actions, his back was slammed against the half-open door from which you’d entered the room, closing it in a very harsh slam exactly when Ballard seemed to be back to check on the prince.

“My prince?!? My prince!!” he desperately knocked on the door, trying to open it but finding it imposible due to the weight of both your bodies on the other side. “Guards!” and as he called for the guards that rounded the corridors…

“Give me a single reason for which I shouldn’t kill you right this moment, my prince.” your breaths intertwined as you stood completely pressed against his body, a knife that you’ve snatched from the trolley threatening to cut his throat as you pressed it against the skin of his pale neck.

He seemed astonished at first, his brown eyes staring into yours as your heavy breath caressed his lips, which parted as he spoke.

“You wouldn’t dare.” he pressed against the knife to get even closer to you, its edge sinking into his skin and the vermillion of his blood making its way to his collarbones like a river flowing down the hills.

“And what makes thee think that?” he smirked at your inquisition, his fingers brushing delicately your arm, its pads descending. From your shoulder to your elbow and later on to your free hand, which stood slightly hidden behind your dress. You gritted your teeth as he slowly and carefully rose it up ‘till both of you could clearly see it. You were trembling, so much it was actually impressive that you could hide it so well.

“Your body speaks to me, sweetheart.” he answered, caressing your palm with his thumb as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss on its back.

And before any of you knew, more blood spilled as you rose the knife.

To be continued…

*Crumbs;; used for expressing surprise.

A/N;; guys i cannot believe y’all have already given Filthy Rich over 600 notes in less than 48h! i’m about to cry about the support and new followers. i really hope i don’t disappoint all of you with this story and you love it as much as i do <3

TAGLIST ♡!!!

@kik51199 @alicegrayson @hardysbitch @gamorxa @knifeluvr @estrellitams @elarasstardust @therealbattleangel @cherrypieyourface @stardustworlds @the-iridescent-phoenix @darkened-writer @brlnamy @ellathefriendlyalpacaaa

[destinationtoast]

Toastystats: TV fandom fix-its on AO3

I took a look at TV fandoms* that have a lot of fix-it fanworks on AO3. Tagging varies a bunch by fandom and the type of event fans are responding to, so I looked at a bunch of different types of tags. I'll be doing deeper dives into some specific fandoms in future chapters.

Click through to AO3 for more explanations, more graphs, and any corrections/clarifications. Also note that some of these analyses and the explanations of them contain spoilers for various TV fandoms.

*The character death analysis also includes non-TV fandoms, but these analyses are mostly TV-focused.

[songforeddiemunson]

Panic in Detroit 7

A Bartender!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader fix-it fic series.

Series Summary: It’s the year 1991. Reader is fleeing an unendurable life in an attempt to start anew. A dangerous man hunts her, and she finds herself in a seedy corner of Detroit, working in a dive bar under a false name. Unbeknownst to her, her whole world is about to be thrown into an even worse tailspin, further complicated by a mysterious and handsome bartender with a complicated past of his own.

Series Warnings: Angst, trauma, violence; there will be references to past domestic violence but nothing explicitly described. Coarse language, stressful situations, eventual smut and fluff. Slow burn. Minors DNI. Reader’s description is vague apart from being AFAB, in an attempt to remain inclusive.

**As always, if you like this, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of any fic writer! Please let me know if you would like to be included in a taglist for this series.**

Chapter Seven: Heroes

(The Final Chapter)

Chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, tw: blood, weapons, injuries. Foul language, angst, whump and anxiety, this one is a doozy. But there is also fluff, triumph and a lot of love.

Important Note: in this AU, it should be noted that Eddie did not get injured by the demobats in the upside down. Everything else happened according to canon, but then El shut Vecna down and the bats dropped before they could attack Eddie.

Word count: 7k

PART SIX

Eddie sat on the motel room bed with his shoulders slumped and his feet flat on the floor. He could dimly hear Detective Danko’s voice, but she sounded far away, his shock-addled brain simply couldn’t focus on the words she was saying. He stared out the open door into the parking lot at all the police cars that had gathered there; some were local Detroit police, others were the black, sinister unmarked vehicles of the FBI. Since Jake’s crimes had crossed state lines the Feds were technically in charge, but were still allowing Danko and some other Detroit PD to work on the case with them.

Eddie foggily wondered why he was so cold, and he curled in on himself instinctively, wrapping his arms around his own slim frame. He barely had the presence of mind to realize the door was wide open and was letting in the cold-late December air; of course he was cold. Even though he said nothing, Detective Danko seemed to notice this, and she moved to slam the door shut. She picked up a discarded towel from the floor and wrapped it around his shoulders.

“Do you have a jacket, Eddie?” she asked him.

There was a beat of silence, and finally his brown eyes lifted to meet hers. “Huh?” he said, weakly.

She sighed, feeling a pang of pity for the poor guy. 

“Eddie,” she said, a little louder, but not unsympathetically. “Stay with me, kid.”

He nodded, and she saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, but his eyes turned back downward to the floor. He had already answered Danko’s questions, and then he answered the same questions asked by some beefy fed whose name he didn’t remember. He answered truthfully yet numbly, his heart broken into a thousand pieces and his shame at letting this happen eat away at what remained of his sanity. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly to the detective, when he realized he was a little less cold. She put a hand on his shoulder.

“Look at me.”

He lifted his eyes back to hers. “This isn’t your fault,” she said firmly.

“How is that?” Eddie asked.

She sighed. “You had no way of knowing that Jake figured out where you were staying. Hell, I can’t fucking figure it out myself. And you told Cassidy to wait and she didn’t listen. That’s not on you either. But the only one who is truly responsible for this is Jake. Don’t lose sight of that.”

Eddie was about to reply when there was a tentative knock on the door, and when Danko opened it, Erica stood on the other side. The Detective opened the door widely to allow her entry; she knew who Erica was.

“I was thinking,” Erica said, her eyes bright and her hands fidgeting. “Not too long before Cassidy was taken, I had gone over to the vending machines that are outside by the office to grab a soda. I saw an old beater pickup truck come into the parking lot, drive all the way around the back of the motel slowly, come out the other side, and back out onto the street. It didn’t stop, but it was driving real slow like it was looking for someone, ya know? It left, but then a little while later, I could hear it again. I was back in my room by then and I didn’t look outside, but it had a distinctive engine sound, like it was on its last legs, and it was pretty loud. I think it came into the lot again. It sounded like it stopped for a little while, and then left again.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, and he perked up for the first time since Danko had gotten there. “That– that could have been him.” He looked at Detective Danko hopefully. “Do you think that could have been him?”

Danko looked torn. “It’s possible, but it’s hard to say.” She took out her notebook and flipped it open. “Can you describe the truck to me in as much detail as you can?”

Erica paused. “Well I can’t tell what color it was; it was a piece of crap. Maybe it was brown once but now it’s all shitty and rusty. I mentioned it was loud, like the muffler had a hole in it. It was a generic looking pickup, not too big, kinda boxy. But one thing I thought was weird…when it drove by me, I thought it smelled sort of sweet.”

Danko was scribbling furiously in her notes but looked up at the last bit. “Sweet? What do you mean sweet?”

Erica shrugged. “It’s kind of hard to describe. But instead of the usual exhaust smell, it had a kind of sweet smell. Fruity, almost.”

Danko opened her mouth to say something, but Eddie interrupted her by jumping up.

“DIESEL!” He shouted.

“What?” Erica and Danko asked in unison.

“Diesel fuel, it smells sort of sweet,” he said, his voice shaking in his excitement, the words tumbling out excitedly. “It contains a chemical that is also found in orange peels.” 

His proverbial wheels were turning, and he started pacing the room, thinking. “Diesel trucks, diesel trucks…” he muttered to himself, rattling off makes and models in his mind.  He stopped suddenly.  “The Dodge DW100!  It was only made in 78 and 79, so one might be old enough to be rusty. It was pretty boxy and generic looking, but it had a diesel engine and was made right here in… fucking Detroit!”  He punched the wall lightly for emphasis on his last two words. “It didn’t sell, so there are probably some sitting around decaying in old factory lots and junkyards.”

Danko and Erica simply stared at him, Danko’s mouth slightly agape.

Eddie shrugged. “I studied to be a mechanic before I decided to be a bartender instead.” 

Danko pulled out her walkie. “I need an APB on a Dodge…” she looked at Eddie.  Eddie walked over to her and spoke directly into the walkie, “a 78 or 79 Dodge DW100 pickup truck, rusty, diesel engine, broken muffler.”

“Okay,” Danko said, waving him off. “Did you get that?”

When the dispatcher confirmed receipt, she clipped the walkie back to her belt. “Okay I’m going to head out. You two sit tight. Alright?”

“Yes, Detective,” Eddie replied as Erica nodded.

As soon as the door was closed, Eddie turned to Erica. “I am NOT sitting tight.”

“Fuck no!” she replied, and the two of them were out the door as soon as Eddie put his coat and shoes on.

The first thing you noticed when you slowly swam up toward the surface of consciousness was that your head hurt, and badly. You sat with your eyes closed, fighting down the wave of nausea that assaulted you, dimly wondering where you were and what had happened.

Then you remembered.

Your eyes flew open at the memory of Jake’s large hand slamming over your nose and mouth, smothering your face with a cloth soaked with some chemical. You stove off the bile that rose to the top of your throat and your vision swam as it cleared; whatever Jake had knocked you out with left you with a nasty hangover. You closed your eyes again, took several deep, cleansing breaths, then slowly opened them.

Better.

You were in a dirty room that looked like it had been an office once upon a time. The only light streamed in through a large grate-covered window on one wall. On the other side of the room was an old metal desk, and a file cabinet with two of its six drawers pulled open. The room was maybe 100 square feet, if you were being generous, and the door that stood open on the other side seemed to lead to a larger room, but you couldn’t see much in the dim lighting. Everything looked like it had sat neglected for years; the dust motes danced lazily in the morning sunshine that streamed through the windows before settling onto the surfaces with its brethren, undeterred by the grime and rust.

Your hands were tied behind your back, pulled tightly around the back of the metal chair you were sitting in. You chanced a tug with your wrists, and the hard plastic of a zip-tie bit into your flesh painfully.  

“Ah fuck,” you muttered to yourself softly with a hiss.  

You decided to try to see if you could get a look at what was outside the door, and attempted to scoot your chair closer to it, but the metal legs screeched loudly against the rough concrete floor. The sound echoed out into the depths of whatever hell you were in like a banshee, and your blood froze in your veins.

“Shit,” you said softly, dejected.

You simply sat and waited for the inevitable footsteps that you knew would arrive. You didn’t know what else to do. Sure enough, after no more than ten seconds had passed, you heard the thudding of heavy boots on the concrete floor. Every step was amplified by its own echo, and each one signaled a deeper certainty that you were going to die.

In the seconds that followed, you were dimly surprised to realize that you weren’t afraid. You felt a cold dread and sinking clarity, but it wasn’t fear. In fact, part of you almost wanted to get it over with. You were tired of running and being scared out of your mind. You couldn’t even bring yourself to mourn the life that you would never be able to live, and all the possibilities that would now be snuffed out forever. You almost didn’t even care.

And then Eddie’s face appeared at the forefront of your mind.

For a moment, you saw him as you normally would through stolen glances at work. His hair pulled back with those little face-framing curls you grew to love, his eyes focused on whatever drink he was pouring as he chatted with a customer.

Then, you saw him walking across the parking lot of Tom’s Tavern, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his coat. He took a couple of running steps and then deliberately slid across a frozen puddle, and then he stumbled a bit awkwardly on the other side. He looked back at you, and he said, you weren’t supposed to see that, before he started laughing.

The flashes came faster, tumbling through your mind. Him gesticulating wildly over something that excited him. The way he tipped his head back when he laughed; really laughed. The way he punched down the icicles hanging over the eaves of the bar before you could walk outside, so “you wouldn’t get stabbed” by falling ice. He looked like Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club whenever he did it. You loved it.

Your first kiss, on Christmas Eve. It was only one week ago, and yet it felt like eons. Giggling in bed. Touches, sighs. Being held, feeling safe. I fucking love you.

And it was then that you realized that tears were streaming down your face, but not because you were afraid. It was because your heart was so full that you thought you might burst. A choked sob escaped your lips. 

Oh shit, you thought to yourself, with a new surge of energy. I can’t fucking die now.

Eddie steered Erica’s car through the east-side industrial area of Detroit. Erica had lasted less than twenty minutes behind the wheel before she pulled over, letting Eddie switch seats with her just to shut him up. 

“Go left here. HERE NOW ERICA.”

“God dammit Ed, a little notice?!”

“WE DON’T HAVE TIME ERICA!”

Erica was amazed she made it twenty minutes under those conditions. She understood the sense of urgency, she really did. But she had to dig deep to summon a new kind of patience for the state that Eddie was in. A state for which she was, of course, entirely sympathetic. Nevertheless, she now sat in the passenger seat while Eddie steered his way around the city he was familiar with, happier for not being yelled at.

“Okay so walk me through it,” she said, now that things were more calm. “Why are we heading to this part of the city?”

“I don’t know. I keep thinking about that truck. If it was actually old factory surplus, it may have just been sitting around in some lot. Or maybe he boosted it from some old factory worker, I don’t know.” He gripped the wheel tighter. “But I have to try something.”

“I know, Eddie, and I’m with you,” Erica soothed.  “Are there a lot of abandoned plants?”

Eddie nodded. “Most were demolished or were sold to other companies, but a couple are just sitting there and rotting,” he said. “I’ve had a lot of customers come in and drown their sorrows over being laid off at the plants over the years. The whole industry has been on the decline for decades.”

“Lucky for you that you went into bartending instead of the auto industry,” Erica said, with a smirk.

“Ha-ha,” he replied, giving her some side eye, but she wasn’t wrong, even if luck had nothing to do with it.

“Also, a run down old factory would be a good place to hole up, and you know, bring a kidnap victim,” he added bitterly. His mind turned to thoughts of you being trapped in such a place and the things that could be done to you there, and icy cold tendrils danced down his spine like fingers. If he let himself dwell too long in those thoughts, he would probably go crazy, and there was no time for that. He pushed the thoughts aside, taking deep and steadying breaths.

He turned down another road. Erica noticed that as Eddie drove, the traffic was getting lighter and the weeds were getting taller. After driving on a little while longer and making another couple of turns, Eddie pulled up to a tall, rusty chain link gate that was locked up with a thick chain and padlock. DO NOT ENTER and KEEP OUT signs were fastened to the gate. 

“Welcome to the old Packard Plant,” he said, as he stared at the massive, decaying complex that sprawled ahead. 

“Jesus,” Erica breathed. “It’s huge.”

“Bigger than any shopping mall,” Eddie said. Erica thought about Starcourt, and shuddered.

The main factory looked about the size of a city block; one huge complex in the middle, dotted with small buildings all around it. Its largest buildings stood at least eight stories high, and all of them gave the sinister impression that they were watching everything that went on around them with their large, empty eyes.

“Do you really think he took her here?” Erica asked as she looked around, her voice somehow smaller.

“I can’t say for certain,” Eddie said. “But I have a pretty good idea." He raised his hand and pointed off to the right. There, partially obscured by weeds next to an old shed, was a beat-up old Dodge DW100.

Erica turned her head to follow Eddie's finger, and gasped. "That's it, that's the truck I saw! Should we call the cops?”

Eddie killed the ignition. “I’m not taking the time to go find a payphone,” he said, and swung his door open. “Besides, they’ll probably come to the same conclusion any minute and be right behind us.”

Erica snickered. “You’re putting an awful lot of faith in the police.”

“Well. Notice that we're here and they’re not,” he said, climbing out of the car and closing the door quietly behind him. Erica followed suit.

He paused for a moment, staring at the huge building, and took a deep shuddering breath.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said.

By the time Jake’s heavy boosteps had arrived at the door to your little office prison, you were ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. You shoved aside the revulsion you felt when you saw him enter the room.

“Jake….Jake is that you?” you muttered groggily, feigning confusion.  “Jake, oh thank god. Where am I? Why am I tied to this chair?”

Jake walked over and stopped in front of you, hulking and intimidating.  

“You thought you could run away from me.” His voice was menacing, but soft. “You thought you could get away but I found you. Nobody gets away from me.”

You blinked up at him. “What do you mean, Jake? I didn’t run away from you.”

Jake paused, he wasn’t expecting that.

“What– yes you did. I saw you. I saw you at the bus station, you’ve been hiding from me.”

You faked a smile. “No, silly. I would never run from you. I love you. I was running from the police.”

He blinked a few times, then bent down so as to be eye level with you. He gripped your chin in his hand roughly. “What the fuck are you talking about,” he hissed.

“After they arrested you. After that time I made you lose your temper. The police, they interrogated me when I was in the hospital,” you lied. “They told me that you were wanted for murder, and that they were going to put you away forever. They said I was an accomplice…that I had helped you and they were going to arrest me too, if I didn’t confess to everything.”

Jake’s blue eyes were piercing as he studied your face. “They said that?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “I told them that it was all lies, of course. I told them that I loved you and that you weren’t a killer. They said that they were going to go get handcuffs and arrest me, so when they left the room I ran away.”  You forced tears to come, to thicken your voice with emotion and roll down your cheeks. “I was so afraid. I was so afraid for you.” You wanted to vomit. 

“But–” Jake said, uncertain. “But you ran from me at the bus station, you ran onto that bus and didn’t come out when I screamed your name.”

“That was you?” you said. “I thought it was the police. I swear, if I had seen you, I would have run to you. I thought you were in jail. I missed you so much. Oh Jake, I was so scared!”  You started weeping.

“I was only in jail a couple of days,” he said. “I thought you knew that.” 

You shook your head emphatically. “No Jake. I didn’t know. Nobody told me. I got out of town as fast as I could. They were coming for me.”

“They didn’t mention anything about you, when they were questioning me.” His voice was laced with suspicion.

“I don’t know. Must have been their strategy. They talked to me a lot about you. But obviously they let you go because you were innocent. Oh Jake, my wrists are hurting. Can’t you cut these ties? I’ll never run from you Jake. I’ve missed you so much.”

You had read something somewhere, maybe People magazine, about people escaping their kidnappers by feeding their ego and pretending they were on their side. To your absolute shock and even a little amusement, it actually seemed to be working. Jake might be a psychopath, but a lot of them were also narcissists.

“You promise you won’t do anything? It wouldn’t be good for you, if you tried something,” Jake said.

“I promise. I promise Jake. I love you.”

He pulled a swiss army knife from his pocket and extended the blade accessory before reaching behind you to cut the zip tie.

I can’t believe this is working, you thought to yourself. He’s really a fucking idiot. What did I ever see in this gu–

Your thoughts were promptly silenced by your arms dropping down to your sides, circulation flooding your arms with a tingly rush of warmth and relief. You fought the urge to rub your wrists, and instead threw your arms around Jake’s shoulders in an embrace, choking down bile as you did so.

“Thank god you found me,” you sobbed. “I missed you baby.”

“I missed you too,” he said. “I was so mad when I thought you ran from me.”

“I would never run from you,” you said, releasing your hold on him. “We were going to get married, remember? Can we still get married? Maybe we could go to Vegas,” you pretended to be excited by the prospect.

Jake smiled for the first time. “Yeah, maybe. I need to lay low for a while though. A lot of people are looking for me.”

You nodded solemnly. “I understand, I’ll wait with you. Baby, I’m freezing,” You said, rubbing your arms for emphasis. It was actually true, as you were only in jeans and a tee-shirt, and it was probably 55 degrees in there at best.  “I’m too woozy to get up. Can you get me a blanket or something?”

“Okay,” he replied tentatively. “Wait here and I’ll get it for you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, forcing your most angelic smile. 

He turned and left the room. After his footsteps sounded like a safe distance away (this place is huge, you thought to yourself), you slowly stood up from the chair, careful not to move it and make the legs scrape upon the concrete floor again. You crept over to the desk and started gently opening drawers, looking for something that you might be able to use as a weapon. Nothing in there. You checked the filing cabinet; also empty, apart from some old papers. 

Then you saw it. You didn’t notice it before because it had been behind you when you were tied to the chair, but on the other side of the room against the wall was a tall metal cabinet that looked at least six feet tall and was about the size of a small closet. You hurried over to it and gritted your teeth as you gently pulled the door open, and it yielded easily with only a small squeak; nothing loud enough to raise alarm. Your heart leaped happily in your throat.

Leaning in the corner of the cabinet among other miscellanea, was an iron crowbar.

Eddie and Erica crept along the side of the main building, looking for a spot to sneak inside. Eddie knew it was only a matter of time before an entrance would make itself known; the plant had been closed since the 70s and had seen its share of squatters over the years.

After a while, they spotted a broken window with its metal grating wrenched open, and it was definitely large enough for an adult to squeeze into. I wonder if this was the opening Jake used, Eddie thought to himself, his heart pounding.

Eddie silently gestured to Erica that this is where they should go in, but she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait,” she whispered. “Weapons. We need something for self defense.”

“Shit, yeah,” Eddie whispered back. He had been so desperate to find you, that the idea of arming himself almost completely slipped his mind. “Look around the building, check the weeds and shit. There’s gotta be stuff we can use nearby.”

After a little while, Eddie came up with a two-foot length of iron rebar, Erica still had nothing.

“It’s okay,” Erica said. “You whack him with that hunk of metal, I’ll jump on him or something.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Eddie said, struggling to keep his voice quiet. “I am not letting a 17 year old chick jump on a fucking serial killer!” He punctuated the word ‘jump’ with air quotes for emphasis.

“Do you have a better idea?” she whisper-spat, hands on her hips.

“Yeah, actually, I do.” Eddie said, and pointed a finger in her face. “Go wait in the car.”

“Out of the question,” she said firmly, batting his finger away.

Eddie sighed and looked heavenward. He was an agnostic, but he wished god would kill him right then anyway. “For fuck’s sake,” he said. “Fine, you stubborn asshole. But if you die, I’m telling your mom it was all your fault.”

“You’ll die first, Munson. Oh wait! Look…” Erica stooped and picked up a broken length of two-by-four. There were a couple of rusty nails sticking out of it.

“What, are you gonna kill him with tetanus?” Eddie whisper-yelled.

Erica shrugged. “You see anything else?”

“Fine, let’s just go,” he said.

The bottom of the window was just at ground level, with about a four foot drop into the building.  Eddie went first, stooping low to slide down into the building, and then turned around to give Erica a hand. He would never admit it out loud, but he was glad he wasn’t alone, even though he feared for her safety. 

Once the two of them were safely inside, Eddie looked around, allowing his eyes to acclimate to the darkness.  The room they entered was massive; it had probably been an assembly-line room back in the day, but all the equipment was long gone. All that remained were pillars every fifty feet or so, shadows, and grime.

“Where do we go now?” Erica whispered. 

Eddie paused. Any sound that occurred in this vicinity would carry quite far with no obstructions, so he held up a finger, and listened.

Erica’s hand suddenly grabbed Eddie’s sleeve, startling him. He swallowed an exclamation of alarm; choosing to glare at her instead.

“Do you hear that?” she whispered near his ear.

“What? I don’t hear anything.”

“I swear I thought I heard footsteps.”

Eddie listened for a moment, but he heard nothing.

“No I don’t–”

“Shhhh!” 

And then he heard them. They weren’t close; there was no way of knowing where they were coming from exactly, with the way the echoes tricked one’s ear. But he heard them nonetheless. 

He held his breath and listened to the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps echoing in the building.

As you reached for the crowbar, you heard Jake coming back.

Mother of fuck, you thought to yourself, that was too quick.

You grabbed the crowbar and hid next to the door so it would obscure your body when he opened it.  The last time you heard him walking to your room it sounded like he had to walk over fifty yards, so you had a moment to steel yourself. You took several steadying breaths, and waited. 

His footsteps stopped outside of the door.  The knob turned, and the door opened. Jake was obscured from your view by the now partially-opened door, so you couldn’t see him, but you heard him say, “what the–” as he noticed you were no longer in your chair.

You stepped out from behind the door, and swung the crowbar at his head.

It turns out, knocking someone out usually doesn’t go the way it does in the movies. First off, it’s hard to aim and swing something heavy, especially when you had been gassed unconscious not long before. Second, people don’t get knocked out with just any bonk to the head.

It was an admirable effort, and you managed to land a glancing blow off the side of his head. It did not, however, have the desired effect of rendering Jake unconscious; it only made him angry.

“What the fuck?” he bellowed. “You bitch!”

He staggered, and you saw blood run from his lacerated flesh, but he, unfortunately, remained very much awake. However, his stumble did give you the needed seconds to run, and run you did. But as you passed him to run out the door, he swiped at you and knocked the crowbar out of your hand.

Unable to go back for it, you ran into the darkness unarmed, an angry and bellowing Jake not far behind.

Eddie and Erica had only been inside the building for about a minute when he heard Jake’s enraged shout echo across the building, followed by a loud metal clatter.  They froze, but Eddie’s heart thudded loudly in his ears, his adrenaline flooding his system, and he wanted nothing more than to take off at a blind run to find you, but that might only get you all killed.

“Was that him?” Erica asked in a breathy whisper.

“I think so,” he replied. 

They listened for a moment, and then they heard the sounds of running feet; light and small followed by heavy and big, and more angry yelling. 

“Oh my god,” Eddie said, less quietly this time, and he broke into a run at last. 

“Christ,” Erica muttered under her breath, and she took off after him. 

Eddie’s long legs enabled him to outpace Erica easily, and he quickly lengthened the distance between them as he ran across the massive, empty factory.  He reached a corner, and paused to listen. The footsteps seemed to be getting closer, so he chanced a peek around the corner.

He saw you materialize from the darkness, running as quickly as your legs could carry you.

She’s alright, he thought, elatedly. Oh thank fuck, she’s alright.

His elation was cut short however, when he spotted Jake running after you, and he had a pistol in his hand.

Your brain could barely register what was happening as a hand clamped down on your left arm and pulled you around the corner you had just approached. All you knew is that you were running as fast as you could and then you were being pulled roughly in a different direction. You yelped in alarm, and when you spotted Eddie, your brain almost turned to total mush.

What! How did he—

“How did you–” you started to ask, but you were being pulled away before you could finish your sentence. 

“Run!” Eddie yelled as he pulled you along. “He has a fucking gun!”

“What!” you squawked, trying your best to keep up with him as you ran toward the other side of the building and the window that Eddie and Erica had entered moments before. An insane mess of emotions warred for dominance; joy and relief after seeing Eddie, adrenaline and fear over your escape, and now an intense new terror over the fact that Jake had some sort of firearm and that Eddie was now in very serious danger.  

“Erica!” Eddie shouted after noticing the teen was no longer with him, and he looked behind his shoulder as he ran. He spotted her crouched at the corner where Eddie had found you, waiting for Jake to appear. She had her wooden plank poised in the air and ready to strike. Eddie slowed his run as he watched, eyes wide, and muttered, “Oh shi–” just in time to see her smash Jake in the face with her board of wood as he rounded the corner. Down Jake went, and she smacked the board against the back of his head for good measure, where it promptly splintered into several pieces.  Erica turned and ran like hell, leaving Jake face down on the ground.

You arrived at the broken window moments later. “Insane,” Eddie said with a breathy chuckle, panting from running and adrenaline. “Did you just fucking kill him? Insane, Erica.”

“Let’s not wait around to find out,” she said.

“I can’t believe you guys are here,” you said, trying not to burst into tears. “How in the hell did you find me?”

Eddie linked his hands to boost you up into the window. “Just a few lucky guesses,” he said.

“Lucky? More like educated guesses. He should really go to detective school,” Erica laughed.

“Me? A cop? That’ll be the day,” he laughed, as he boosted you up. You scrambled up and out into the weeds, careful not to cut your palms on the broken glass that littered the area. Erica followed close behind, and you gave her a hand out of the window.

“Come onnnn Eddie,” you said, your anxiety at a new high. You didn’t know if Jake was dead, or just unconscious, but you really didn’t want to take any chances.

“I’m coming, I’m here,” he said, as he crawled up and out, and you helped him to his feet. He pulled you in for a tight hug. “Oh god, thank god you’re okay,” he said shakily. “I was so fucking scared.” He pulled away to look into your eyes. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m alright, Eddie,” you said. “I tried to trick him into thinking I was always on his side,” you said, and the three of you started speed-walking toward the gate, where Erica's car sat on the other side. “The fucker’s so stupid and narcissistic he actually believed it.”

“Jesus,” Erica said. “Good thinking.”

“I can’t believe that worked, but I’m really glad it did,” Eddie said, shaking his head.  He held open the busted corner of the chain link gate that he and Erica had entered through earlier. “After you,” he said to you both.

"Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” A voice shouted, a voice that you knew only too well, and it made your heart sink. You were halfway through the gate and you whipped your head around to see Jake staggering drunkenly toward you, his face and shoulders splattered with blood. The hand holding the gun hung at his side, but it was still clutched in his fingers.

“Oh my fucking god,” you cried.

Eddie turned and his eyes met yours. “Go,” he said. “Keep going. Run, and don’t look back.”

“Eddie,” you cried. “No, we have to go, come on!”

Eddie turned, and put his hands up. “Jake, man, put the gun down. It’s over.”

Jake said nothing, just spat bloody saliva on the ground as he came closer.”

Eddie took a couple of steps closer. “The cops are on the way,” he lied. “You don’t need to make this worse. Let’s call it a day.”

“Eddie, get away from him,” Erica hissed. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Jake asked, his speech slightly slurred, his attention momentarily shifted to Erica.

Eddie pounced.

You screamed, fighting with the fence to get back through, but without another person holding up the corner it was a tight squeeze.  Erica ran over to you to help as Eddie smashed Jake in the knee with his length of rebar, and then slammed into Jake like a battering ram. Jake howled in pain. He was bigger than Eddie, but he was hurt, which helped level the playing field.  Jake went down, sprawling backward in the weeds, but he quickly put up a foot and kicked Eddie off of him, who rolled off to the side. As Eddie scrambled to his feet, you started to run over to where the two men grappled for dominance, but the sound of a gunshot froze you in your tracks.

You looked down and didn’t see any blood on your body, and you didn’t feel any pain. Eddie’s wide eyes found yours as you looked at him. “Are you okay?” He asked, panicked.

“I’m not hit, I’m okay,” you said. Eddie nodded in response, taking in a deep, hitching sigh of relief.

“You motherfucker,” you growled, and ran straight over to where Jake lay in the weeds. He was struggling to sit up, but Eddie had likely shattered his left knee, and he floundered. He barely had time to react before you kicked him in the face as hard as you could.

His nose had definitely broken, and blood sprayed into the air, propelled by his violent exhalation of breath.

“You fucker,” you sobbed, and kicked Jake in the face again, and then a third time. “You tried to take everything from me,” you shrieked, and you kicked him again, this time in the balls, but he didn’t react; he was out cold. You reached down to where the gun had fallen out of his outstretched hand, and picked it up. “You deserve to die,” you hissed, and you pointed the gun at his face.

“No, Cassidy…don’t,” Eddie said, stopping you from pulling the trigger.

Jake was gurgling, and bubbles of blood and snot pulsed from his nostrils as tendrils of blood trickled from his lips and from various points on his scalp. Erica gently pried the gun from your fingers and pointed it at Jake.

“Try something, motherfucker,” she said.

You turned to Eddie, and he gave you a beaming smile from where he stood, swaying slightly, looking exhausted but otherwise unharmed. 

Then, as if in slow motion, you saw Eddie stagger backward, and it was only then that you noticed the spot of blood blooming on the front of his jacket. Suddenly everything else was far away; your hearing faded out, your vision tunneled. Nothing else mattered. He took one step  forward, and then slumped down into the patchy grass.

“NOOO!” You shrieked, closing the distance between the two of you in a second, falling to your knees by his side.

“Eddie,” you sobbed, patting him all over, looking for the entry wound. You pulled up his shirt and found it in his upper-left abdomen, just below his ribcage. His lifeblood flowed out of it, bright and red, staining everything it touched. You grabbed the bandana from Eddie’s back pocket and pressed it to the wound with shaking hands. 

“You’ll be fine, I juh-just have to s-stop the b-bleeding,” you stammered, sobbing.

“Eddie!” Erica shouted, the gun in her hand still pointed at Jake, who was not moving. “You better not die on me, you asshole!”

You could hear sirens approaching, the cavalry was about to arrive.

You picked up one of Eddie’s hands and twined his fingers with yours. You brought his knuckles to your mouth and brushed your lips against them, kissing them softly. You couldn’t stem your tears. “Stay with me, stay, please Eddie,” you cried.  “You came for me, you found me, I can’t lose you now, please, please.”

“I’ll always find you,” he said, smiling softly. His eyes were growing heavy, and they fluttered closed. 

“Eddie, NO!” you sobbed, but he’d gone quiet. “Eddie?” You shook him gently.

You couldn’t wake him.

EPILOGUE – TWO YEARS LATER

December 31, 1993

You stood with your toes burrowed into the warm white beach sand, letting the ocean breeze wash over you, lifting the strands of your hair and making your linen sundress flutter. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, smelling the salt and surf, hearing the waves. You gave yourself a moment to soak it in, letting all your senses be fully present.

You looked down at the old bandana clutched in your fist, slowly unfurling your fingers, letting the bloodstained cotton fabric bloom open as you relaxed your grip. You brushed away the tear that rolled down your cheek. 

Even though it hurt, you liked to remember the events of that terrifying week in Detroit two years ago, which culminated on that catastrophic New Years Eve. You liked to remember all that was found, all that was lost, and it helped you realize all that you had built and reclaimed. You ruminated on all that you had conquered, and all that you had overcome.

But it still hurt, it probably always would.

The arms that snaked around your torso startled you, making you jump and yelp softly.

“You scared me,” you said with a smile, leaning back against his chest.

“I know you enjoy your annual ritual,” Eddie said softly in your ear. “But don’t you think it’s just a little…morbid?”

You turned around fully to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was dressed in a dark blue t-shirt, slim jeans and simple black converse without socks. His beautiful skin was lightly tanned, his long curls tied up in a messy bun. Gone were the flannel shirts and knit wool caps of Detroit; Key West was where you called home now.

“I know you think it’s a silly little ritual,” you said, kissing him lightly on the lips. “But I like to think about everything we accomplished as the world burned down around us.”

“Yeah,” he said, smirking. “I suppose it was pretty badass. But you’re not the one who was shot.” 

You slipped your fingers up under his t-shirt, feeling the little scar. “If I could go back and take that bullet for you, I would,” you said softly.

“Whoa, hey now,” he said, grabbing your fingers and pulling them to his lips to kiss. “Let’s not go overboard. I’d rather die than see you take a bullet. Besides, I want the credit.” He smiled behind your fingers, his eyes glinting mischievously.

You looked down at the bandana in your hand, the blood long faded to a rusty brown. Eddie’s hand closed over yours, obscuring it from view.

“I think it’s time to let go of the past,” he said. “Jake’s going to be eating from a tube for the rest of his life, strapped to a bed. You and me, we’re great. Let’s look forward, okay?”

“Does that mean you’re ready to let go of what happened in Hawkins?” you replied.

Eddie thought for a moment, looking out at the sea. “I already have. I’ll never forget it, but I won’t be living in the past anymore.” He looked back down at you, and smiled. “I have you now.”

You nodded and opened your hand, letting the wind take the bandana, and you watched it float down toward the waves, flapping and twirling on the ocean breeze until it was out of sight.

“Litterbug,” Eddie said with a chuckle.

“You really know how to spoil a moment, Munson,” you said, but you couldn't help but laugh. You did actually feel a slight lifting of the spirit. Everything really was going to be okay.

You stood on your tiptoes and captured his lips in a kiss, one that started to turn heated pretty quickly.

“Hey!” a familiar voice bellowed from a short distance away. “Are you two idiots done making out? It’s New Year’s Eve! We’ve got customers!”

“Coming Tom,” you and Eddie said together, and started laughing.

You turned and started walking up the beach hand-in-hand toward Tom’s Beachside Cantina. It was going to be a busy night, after all.

THE END.

Author’s note: Thank you so much for reading this work. I hope you enjoyed reading it nearly half as much as I enjoyed creating it. This has been a true labor of love, and the first multichapter fic I have written in ten years! If I was going to come back to it for anyone, I'm glad it was for my beloved Eddie.

** As always, if you liked this, comments and reblogs are a treasure. Thank you so much!**

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (steddie fic)

saw this post and was inspired to write something angsty <3

The first thing Eddie is aware of when he wakes up, before he even opens his eyes, is the dull, aching pain throbbing through pretty much his entire body. The second thing he’s aware of is that someone is holding his hand. 

“Eddie?” The hand in his tightens its grip as Eddie begins to stir; the voice it presumably belongs to sounds immeasurably relieved, yet only vaguely familiar. 

Eddie groans. His eyelids flutter, blinking awake, and he groggily rolls his head to the side to get a look at whoever had spoken. 

The voice sighs again, “Oh thank god-” 

“Harrington?” Eddie’s eyes fly open wide now as they land on the mystery man sitting beside him on the edge of the bed - a man he most definitely is not close enough with to be holding his hand, and a bed that is most definitely not his own. He snatches his hand away. “What the hell are you doing? Where am I?”

“Ed-” Another man’s voice, this one just as relieved and infinitely more familiar. It fills Eddie with relief too as he looks to his other side to find his uncle Wayne rising from a nearby chair to come up next to him. 

“Wayne, what-?” His surroundings are becoming more clear. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital? And why the fuck is King Steve at my bedside?” Eddie tries to sit up only to gasp and wince in pain as the dull ache in his sides sharpens to near agony at the movement. 

“Take it easy, son.” Wayne’s hand lands on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down onto the pillows. “You were hurt real bad.” 

“Yeah, I got that,” Eddie grumbles out. He sucks in a deep, intentional breath and exhales slowly, the pain beginning to dull again now that he’s settled. His questions are still largely unanswered, though. Blank mind reaching desperately for any logical piece to this bizarre puzzle, he turns an accusing glare to Harrington. “Did you land me in here? Is that why you’re here, some sort of weird guilt thing?” 

Harrington’s looking at him like a kicked puppy. “What? No, I-” he falters, takes a shaky breath and swallows painfully like he’s trying not to cry. “You don’t remember?” 

“I don’t remember what? Will someone just tell me what happened?” Eddie’s confusion is rising more and more into agitation with every second he remains without an explanation. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Harrington asks quietly.

“I was driving home from school, just found out I wasn’t gonna graduate again.” Eddie frowns as he thinks back, still trying to put pieces together. “Did I crash my car? Is that it? I was emotional and not paying attention and got into an accident?” 

Yet again, he receives no answers. 

“Eddie, what month is it?” Wayne asks instead, his tone dangerously measured and serious. “What year?” 

“May…” Eddie says warily, “1985.”

His words hold a weight he doesn’t understand, landing heavy on the others in the room and thickening the air. It sends a chill of dread down his spine, the way his answer etches concern deep into the lines of Wayne’s face, the way Steve Harrington seems to take it like a blow to the chest. 

Harrington exhales sharply as if he’s been punched, standing abruptly and taking a few stumbling steps back. Wayne says, “It’s April of ‘86, Ed.”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “No. No, it can’t be.” 

“I’m gonna go tell the nurse you’re awake,” Harrington mumbles, his voice strained and his eyes glassy with barely held-back tears. 

“I’ll go,” Wayne offers, pushing himself away from Eddie’s bed. He gives Harrington a meaningful look, though what that meaning is, Eddie can’t decipher. 

Harrington turns his devastated gaze to the older man. “But, Wayne, he doesn’t-” 

“I know, kid.” Wayne gives a sad smile and places a sympathetic hand on Harrington’s shoulder as he passes by. “Just talk to him.” 

Eddie is thrown off by this familiarity between them. Since when were those two close? He feels like he’s entered some sort of parallel universe where everything is just ever so slightly wrong. It leaves an itch beneath his skin, uncomfortable and out of place, like he no longer quite fits in his own body, in his own life. He’s lost 11 months, apparently, and this world is no longer his; he doesn’t know where he fits into it anymore. 

Wayne leaves the room, and Eddie wants to protest: Don’t leave me here with this guy I don’t know in this time I don’t know, please, you’re the only thing that feels safe and familiar! Anxiety is crawling through him like a thousand tiny bugs in his veins. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to run. Anything to shake this feeling loose. But he’s confined to this bed, trapped both by his pain and by all these machines he’s hooked up to, and he sure as shit isn’t going to have a breakdown in front of Steve goddamn Harrington. 

Instead, Eddie resigns himself to this situation and casts a sideways glance at Harrington who very much looks like he’s also trying not to have a breakdown. “I’m freaking out, man,” Eddie says finally, hating how shaky and pathetic his voice sounds. “I swear to god, Harrington, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on…” 

Harrington worries his lip between his teeth as he hesitates. “It’s a lot to explain.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie scoffs out a humorless laugh. “I’m missing nearly an entire year, of course it’s a lot to fill in. Unless I’ve been here this whole time?” 

“No.” Harrington shakes his head. “No, you’ve only been here about a week. I- I don’t know why you’re missing so much time, the whole Vecna thing only started like a week before that-” 

“Vecna?” Eddie interrupts to question. “What does any of this have to do with the D&D campaign I was planning? And, also, how the fuck do you know about that?” 

Harrington closes his eyes for a second and takes a breath, like having this conversation is the most painful thing he’s ever had to do. “I’m not talking about D&D, Ed. Vecna was a real-life monster from a real-life alternate dimension we called the Upside-Down. The kids only called him Vecna because we didn’t know who he was at the time and he, like, cursed people before he killed them, but he was actually Henry Creel, which is a whole other fucked up story.”

“Okay…” Eddie doesn’t know who ‘the kids’ are and he’s skeptical of the way Harrington talks so factually about monsters and dimensions and curses existing in the real world, but he does remember his uncle telling him stories about the demonic tragedy of the Creel family, which is the only thing that makes any of this even halfway believable. It still doesn’t explain how Eddie wound up in the hospital with his entire body feeling like it’d been run through a blender, though, or why the former king of Hawkin’s High was hovering over his sickbed. He gestures for Harrington to continue. 

“I never wanted you to get involved in all this Upside-Down shit,” Harrington’s voice breaks. He steps closer to Eddie’s bed again, and he looks so so sad as he stares down at him that it makes Eddie’s own heart ache, just a little bit. Harrington’s hand twitches at his side as if he means to reach out for Eddie but then thinks better of it, running the hand through his hair instead as he continues, “I tried to keep you from it for so long, I really did, but then Vecna killed Chrissy in your trailer and the whole town blamed you and you were just a part of things then, there was no getting around it. You helped us fight him - Vecna. You kept his army of bats off our ass while we weakened his body and El weakened his mind. If it weren’t for you we never would’ve defeated him and we certainly wouldn’t have all made it out alive.” Harrington’s gaze softens, as does his voice, his next words almost a whisper, “You were a hero, Eddie.” 

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Eddie says, like that’s the least plausible part of Harrington’s story. And, really, it is. He can wrap his mind around a lot of things: a murder in his trailer - sure, Forest Hills always was a shady place; the whole town accusing him of being a killer - yeah, of course, that tracks; even an evil wizard from another dimension with an army of bats - fine, okay, why the hell not. But Eddie Munson is no hero, and he’s definitely not any sort of fighter either.

“No, you never did think so, did you?” Harrington mutters with a sad sort of fondness and the barest trace of a wistful smile. “But it’s true. Dustin was in danger and you didn’t even think twice. You ran right into the fray without a second thought, sacrificed yourself so that the rest of us might survive. Those bats nearly killed you, b-” he breaks, choking on whatever word he was going to say. His eyes swim with yet more unshed tears. “I almost thought they had killed you, you know. I thought you were dead when I carried you out of the Upside-Down,” he admits shakily, choked up and barely managed, “and even when I brought you here and you were stable, I was still so scared you wouldn’t wake up…” 

Eddie doesn’t know how to react to any of that information or to such a display of emotion. His own hands twitch now with the urge to reach out and comfort him, but he too denies that instinct. He tries for humor instead, something lighter, cracking a grin and teasing, “Aw, Stevie, I didn’t know you cared.” 

Harrington makes a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Oh, Ed, you have no idea.” 

“We were friends then, weren’t we?” Eddie guesses now, carefully. It’s rapidly becoming the only possible explanation for the guy’s behavior around him. “Before all the Vecna stuff?”

“Yeah,” Harrington manages, forcing a small, sad smile as his eyes finally overflow and streak his cheeks with tears. “Yeah, we were good friends.” 

~

Wayne reenters the room then with a nurse in tow, and Steve quickly turns away and rubs his hands over his face. He needs to pull himself together; he can’t break down right now, not yet, not here. 

He listens, distantly, as the nurse asks Eddie a bunch of questions and then tells the rest of them that she needs to take him in for some tests to determine the cause and prognosis of Eddie’s amnesia. He watches, numbly, as she wheels Eddie’s entire bed out of the room. 

Steve can barely hear, barely see, his emotion clouding his eyes and roaring in his ears. He stares blankly through the open doorway and struggles to swallow down the ever-rising lump in his throat. 

Wayne’s voice rumbles from somewhere beside him, but he can’t quite make out the words. “What?” 

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Wayne says, the sound reaching Steve’s ears a little clearer now. “I asked if you were alright.” 

Steve shakes his head. His voice comes out coarse and raw, “‘Course I’m not alright.” 

“Right, ‘course you’re not,” Wayne echoes. He follows Steve’s mournful gaze to the door Eddie had disappeared through. “What did you tell him?” 

“Told him he was a hero,” Steve croaks, “...and that we were good friends.”

“Ah…” Steve’s vision is so blurred behind a thick layer of tears he can’t see the sympathetic frown on the old man’s face, but he knows it’s there. “At least he’s alive, kid,” Wayne tries to be comforting. “You can always start over.” 

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t- I don’t want to start over, I just want-” Steve chokes back a sob. He just wants Eddie.

It’s a horrible thought, but Steve almost thinks that this just might be worse than if Eddie really had died… Because how is Steve supposed to handle the fact that his boyfriend of 9 months no longer knows him? How is he supposed to cope now that the love of his life looks right at him and no longer sees him?

He closes his eyes, presses the heels of his palms into his eyelids, inhaling a shaky breath and exhaling an even shakier sigh. Steve whispers, “It feels like I’m losing him all over again.” 

(part two is here!)