protectingrose

[protectingrose]

♥️♥️♥️

Amorem | E.M

Cw: you’re tired of being alone, so you cast a spell to find love. 7.3k words, witch!f!reader x Eddie, magic, fluff, mild angst, smut, unprotected sex, creampie.

“I just feel so lonely.” You sigh.

Robin, Nancy, Max, and Joyce, all collectively nod their heads as you’re all gathered at the Coven house. They can’t help but feel a small amount of pity, they have all found their partners. You’re the last witch standing.

“What about the amorem enchantment?” Joyce, the coven mother suggested. 

She is a wise witch, the townspeople call her eccentric, however she is very knowledgeable when it comes to the craft. 

“That seemed a bit desperate” you sigh. 

“You’re a beautiful witch in your prime, it is time to find your match before it is too late.” Joyce points out.

It is very unfortunate when a witch loses their match due to natural selection because there is a very small window to do something about it. 

The supernatural forces are lenient to keep your human longer than their body allows if you claim them in time. It only works if the match is in their mid-twenties. No one knows why, but it is when you need to act. You’re already in your twenty-fifth year, you can’t push it any longer.

With a sigh of defeat you begrudgingly agree that it was what has to be done.

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” your chant starts softly. Alone at your altar, deep in the meadow with the wildflowers and dew. Your altar is set up against a weeping willow with all you have gathered for your enchantment. 

Amorem enchantments, or love enchantments, are a powerful thing. The magic cannot make someone fall in love with you; that’s not how it works. The magic is to draw the source of love towards you, to help guide the individuals together.

You think of your ideal partner- charismatic, funny, loyal, trustworthy, doting, physical, handsome, artistically inclined, and imaginative. All of those things race on your mind as you chant.

You can feel your magic building. The warmth builds in the depth of your chest and spreads through your arms to your fingertips as you continue the chant. 

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” 

The moon is at its highest, the wind is whistling. “Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum ego. One last final chant and it was complete.

You feel a soft brush against your hand. Looking down, you smile at the little ball of fluff—Clover, your familiar. She is a calico rabbit you’ve had since your magic presented itself at eight years of age. 

You glamour your altar so no one would disrupt it- not that anyone comes out here, but you can never be too careful keeping the witches' secret….

A few miles away, tucked up in bed was a man, unbeknownst to him, whose life was about to change.  

Eddie isn’t too sure why he is here. He was in his apartment strumming, trying to find the right chords, when he had a sudden urge to go out. Where? He didn’t know, but if he didn’t, his gut told him he would miss out on something… something big.

Now he’s found himself in this kitschy store next to Melvald’s. He’s never noticed or paid much attention to it, but he found himself pulled up in front of it and being drawn in. 

The wind chimes let you know that a potential customer has entered your little shop whilst you are in the back sorting stock, so you poke your head out to see who’s arrived 

“Let me know if you need anything” you politely say before seeing who was there. 

“Uh… thanks” You see the man scratch his head looking clueless until his eyes meet yours. 

“Oh. Hi,” you step out when you realize who is in your presence.

Eddie Munson, of all people. 

“Hey,” he awkwardly waves. 

You haven’t seen him since you graduated high school, nearly seven years ago. You had heard he was held back a few times, but you hadn’t given him a second thought. 

“Let me know if you’re looking for something specific, I can help you out,” you smile and try and act busy. 

When he turns his back you can’t help but observe him as he searches the shelves. 

“What kind of place is this?” He looks over his shoulder.

“Well we are called Mystic Apothecary, what do you think?” You raise a brow biting back a snarky giggle, the touches of sarcasm rolling off your tongue. 

“Ah,” he nods and continues browsing. 

You curse yourself for being snarky. This is a potential customer, you need to be more approachable.

“So that makes you? What? A Sorceress?” He smirks and you can’t help but blush. 

“You could say that.” 

Eddie spends about ten minutes browsing and picking up little trinkets and other items before bringing them to your counter. 

“Looks like someone wants to get into spell work,” you smile. He has a pentagram pendant, a tapestry, some empty spell jars, so pre filled spell jars, a black obsidian tower, and a cauldron.

“Uh-I needed some props” 

“Props, huh?” Your pointed aubergine nails clack on the register keys to input the prices. 

“I play this game, it’s silly.” He shrugs. 

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was being so bashful. He’s always been so proud to be himself, so why is he nervous in front of you? 

He semi-remembers you from school. You were more subdued and kept to yourself or your girl group. Everyone called you guys the Hawkins Coven, not that you were actually witches, but now he is rethinking that…

It also doesn’t escape him that you’re really pretty—like otherworldly pretty. He was really digging your style. Your peasant skirt and half corset are really doing it for him; very ren fair of you. 

“So, is this like your uniform, or do you always dress like this?”  Where did that come from? Eddie curses himself, but you just giggle.

“Why? You want one for yourself?” You smirk. 

“What? You don’t think I could pull it off?” 

“You would look lovely” 

“Thank you, my lady” he curtseyed. 

This made you giggle some more. This interaction was cute flirty and fun. You have never spoken to him this much, who knew he was so charming? 

“Thanks for shopping.” You pass him his goodies in a paper bag. 

“I guess I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah,” you smile. 

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding once the chimes for the door let you know Eddie was out of the store. 

What the Hecate was that?

Clover hops over onto the counter giving you a knowing look. 

“No… you don’t think?” 

She twitches her nose. 

“You’re crazy”  

She stomps her little back foot and you roll your eyes. 

“Let’s see.”

Days passed without any interaction with Eddie, until today. While at the food court with the coven, Max caught sight of Lucas, her boyfriend, sitting with his friends. As you approached their table, you unfortunately stumbled after stepping on your bootlace. With a small squeal, you found yourself tripping and falling onto someone's lap. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed.

Looking up, you noticed a smirk on his face as he replied,

"Not every day I have a pretty girl falling into my lap." Your cheeks flushed with heat as you realized it was Eddie Munson.

Quickly regaining your composure, you got up, apologized once more, and walked away.

“Pretty, huh? Anything come of the Amorem Enchantment?” Max asks as the group of you walk away. 

“I’m, not sure. Clover thinks she has it all figured out on who it is but I’m skeptical”  

“Okay” you see Max give the others a knowing look but you bite your tongue. You don’t want to jump to conclusions.

The next day, you and Robin are out running errands, preparing for the upcoming full moon in a few days. Your coven always gathers during the highest point of the moon to draw magic from the earth, strengthening your bond and powers. It's like recharging a battery; it's not necessary, as magic never fades, but it can lie dormant if not utilized correctly.

"Hey, isn't that Munson?" Robin acknowledges, catching your attention. Surprised to see him again so soon, after seven years of not crossing paths, now encountering him for the third time in 2 weeks. "I suppose it is," you respond.

"I hardly see him," Robin remarks, her tone implying something you don't appreciate. 

"And?" you question, raising an eyebrow.

"And nothing," she replies in a defensive tone. 

"Has Brutus been talking to Clover?" you ask, disliking the familiars' gossiping habits.

"I'm not a snitch," Robin retorts, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

Her owl never seems to know when to stay quiet.

"Are you stalking me, Sorceress?" Eddie startles you as he approaches from behind. "Going to fall for me again?" he teases, making you clear your throat. 

Eddie seems unsure why he left the shop. That feeling of being drawn to a particular place during his lunch break, was gnawing that the back of his head, which led him straight to you.

"Damn, Munson, creeping up on all the ladies?" Robin scolds, to which Eddie replies, 

"Nah, just Sorceress here," tilting his head as you feel a blush rising on your cheeks.

“Sorceress, huh?” Robin raises her brows at you. 

“He came to the Apothecary.” You defend. 

“Uh-huh,” she nods and smiles. Only confirming Clover and Brutus’ accusations. 

“Yep, well we better get going. Joyce is waiting. Good to see you.” You grab Robin and take off before Eddie can ask you what he’s been wanting to do since yesterday.

The Halloween Fall festival is usually your favourite event of the year. However this year you’ve been working more than enjoying the festivities. You’ve been in the tent most of the day, doing tarot readings and “fortune telling.” You’re exhausted and about to close up when a deep voice catches your attention.

“Guys I’m not doing it, it’s dumb.” 

“Too bad you lost the bet now go in there!” A younger-sounding guy demands. 

“It’s all hocus poc- woah” The man is pushed into view and you can’t believe your luck when it’s Eddie.

“All a bunch of Hocus Pocus, huh?”

Of course, he would be a non-believer. 

“Flip that sign to say Closed for me would ya?” You ask whilst shuffling the deck for hopefully the last time today.

“You trying to get me alone or something,” Eddie suggests but you ignore it. 

“Sit.” 

“Yes ma’am” Eddie smirks, pulling out the chair. 

With a big sigh, you shuffle the deck with your eyes closed. 

“What is it you want to know?” 

“Uh…” 

“A general reading it is. Fifteen dollars.” You motion to the glass jar and he scrambles to put the cash in. 

You feel that the cards are aligned so you go ahead a pull. The six cards are placed face down between you and Eddie. 

“Ready?” You smirk. 

“I guess.” He shrugs.

You flip the first card. 

“Chariot in Reverse. You feel like there is a lack of direction in your life. Like you’re on the right path but maybe a little lost. Like you took the wrong turn down the road.”

You flip the second card.

“Death.”

Eddie looks up at you. He looks scared, but you giggle.

“It’s not literal, it means new beginnings, change, metamorphosis. Like you’re finally finding your path.” You look up at him through your lashes and he lets out the breath he was holding in. 

“The lovers” you continue with a gulp and flip the next card, The Eight of Stars.

“There is hope for a new relationship forming.” You continue to flip the fifth card and of course, it’s The Empress.

“More growth and beauty to enter into this new relationship. “

“How do you know it’s new?” Eddie interrupts. 

This catches you off guard. It’s not like you can come out a say ‘I cast a love enchantment and you’re the only one who is consistently popping up in my life.’

“I’m a fortune teller. Duh” 

This makes Eddie giggle and relax a bit more, so you continue to the final card. 

“The Devil.” You sigh, and Eddie’s eyes blow wide again with wonder.

“It’s because I’m the town Satanist, isn’t it?” He accuses.

Once again you ignore him and continue.

“This relationship will be addictive, lustrous, seductive. You won’t be able to keep your hands off one another. You’re both going to fall and fall hard” Your eyes are locked in on one another. You want to look away but you can’t, you think he feels it too, the pull… 

When did you start leaning into one another? Your faces are so close, just a centimetre more and- you pull back immediately as the sound of the timer makes you both jump. 

“Well, times up thanks for coming” You stand and rush him out. 

“What? That’s it?” 

“Yep. Have fun at the festival!” You close the curtain in front of him before he can say another word. 

Eddie can’t believe what has just happened. He stood there awestruck but also very confused. 

“Dude, what happened?” Eddie’s friend Jeff shakes him. 

“Uh,” he scratches the back of his head “I have no fucking idea.” Eddie looked back over his shoulder at the tent but there was no movement at all. 

The situation with Eddie was consuming your day-to-day. Weeks have passed since the festival, and all you thought about was him. You finally are coming to terms that the enchantment is what is leading the two of you together, why deny it?

Eddie and you haven’t bumped into one another since the Halloween Festival and it’s been eating at you. After the tarot reading you realized you shouldn’t have pushed him away like that. What if you had scared him off? The magic can only do so much. 

Instead of moping around your house after work, hoping you bump into him. You decided to go to the grocery store strolling for some spices, your arsenal had been dwindling. 

Drifting off in your own little world, you hum with your headphones on as you try and reach for the cinnamon, of course, at the very back on the top shelf, you try and get it. You reach and reach on your highest tip toes looking like a fool, unable to use a summoning spell in public you curse whoever built these deep shelves. Just as you were about to look around to see if the coast was clear enough to use a little unharmful magic, you see a bare arm decorated with bats come from behind you grabbing the cinnamon sticks. 

“Hey do you mind-“ but you stop mid-sentence when they drop their hand down signalling for you to take it. 

“Thanks” You turn to see your knight in shining armour. Eddie.

“No big deal” he smiles. It’s a good smile. You observe him, losing focus you let down your guard. 

Eddie’s eyes widen with shock and you instantly put your guard back up. Your eyes must have given it away…

“You okay?” He asks placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you laugh it off, “why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Your eyes… they uh… they looked pink”

Pink?! Pink of all things! You mentally scold yourself.

“Oh uh. My contacts make your eyes irritated sometimes.” You play it cool… but Eddie and you both knew your irises were what changed colour, not the whites. 

“Uh-Hu” he nods, totally trying to not be freaked out, but also a little turned on? 

“Um,” you stand in awkward silence for half a minute. “Thank you for the help” You motion to the cinnamon and turn on your heel. 

“Wait!” He grazes your elbow now holding on too tight. 

“Can we, uh- I um.” He curses under his breath, “Would you like to go out with me?” He almost shouts and you. “Sorry. That was. You don’t have to…I just thought-“ 

“Eddie!” you cut him off.

He pauses realizing he never gave you a second to answer.

“I would love to.” You smile. Trying extra hard to stay focused because you know your eyes are a deep magenta under the glamour you hold. 

“Great! Okay,” he claps his hands together. “I‘ll call you!” He gestures his hand to make a phone by his ear and starts to walk away. 

“Wait! You don’t have my number!” You giggle. 

“Oh right,” he mentally scolds himself shaking his head shyly. 

After you gave Eddie your number, you cast a little memory spell just in case he misplaces the paper, (only for insurance purposes) did you make your way to Robin’s place. 

“Pink!” Robin screams.

“Keep your voice down!” 

Robin totally knew from the beginning that Eddie was the one you summoned. She was excited for you! She knows what love can bring to a person’s life. She and Nancy are lucky to experience it together, and she just wants you to be as happy as they are. 

“You got it B-A-D” she spells out. 

“I do not! I don’t even know him!”

“Pinnnnnnk” she leans in.

“Ugh.” You throw your hands up in defeat and you feel Clover snuggle herself into your lap. 

“Yeah, yeah, you were right.” You pet Clover's back. 

“So now what?” 

“He asked me out” You can’t help but smile, 

“Oh!” Robin points at you again. “Pink!”  She points at you. “I’m talking P-I-N-K!”

You never use your glamour around the coven because why would you? Your emotions could be read from a mile away. 

“What are you guys going to do?”

“I’m not sure, guess we wait to see where the magic takes us”

Nervously, you mix a soothing tonic to ease your racing heart. Deep down, you know that the fates have intertwined your paths for a reason... He feels like the one, yet the mystery surrounding him is overwhelming. This uncertainty fuels your anxiety.

This is the final first date you’ll ever experience, the last time you’ll open your heart to someone new. And for the first time, it feels as if everything is aligning perfectly. But lurking in the back of your mind is the daunting truth that you’ll eventually need to reveal your not-so-little secret.

What if he’s frightened by who you really are? What if he can’t accept it?

The thought of erasing his memories and losing the love of your life is almost too much to bear.

Getting ahead of yourself, lost in thought your attention is checked back into reality when your doorbell rings. With a beep breath, you answer the door. Stood there on your wooden porch was Eddie, looking so handsome. His hair was freshly washed, his shirt freshly ironed and tucked into his pants. He held a bouquet of small purple daisies and a nervous smile. 

“Woah,” he spoke as you opened the door. “You look incredible.” 

“Thank you, and so do you” You feel your cheeks fill with heat, and you pay extra attention to the glamour for your eyes. 

“Shall we?”

“Let’s” You hook your arm in his and he leads the way. 

“So where are you taking me?” You ask as you strap yourself in. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, other than witchy stuff” he blushed, “so I thought it was safe to go to the Christmas market.” 

That you were not expecting, and unfortunately for Eddie, he could read it in your face 

“Oh, god, you hate it. I swore all girls love Christmas-“

“No Eddie it’s sweet, it’s just I don’t celebrate Christmas. Well I do, but it’s not what you would think. We, my friends and I, celebrate Yule. It’s Pagan.” 

“Pagan,” He hums to himself, “that’s badass.” 

This makes you giggle, and Eddie sighs with relief that you’re not annoyed at him. 

“There are a lot of Pagan holidays that the Christians stole from us and made their own, but I don’t want to bore you with the details.” You wave your hand dismissively. 

“No, I’d love to learn.” He looks at you earnestly. 

“You sure? I kind of ruined your plans, I still don’t mind going! I do love a good gingerbread cookie and hot chocolate.” You smile. 

“You sure?” 

“I am!” 

“I’m honoured, Sorceress” he smiles and puts his truck into drive.

You had an expectedly wonderful time at the Christmas festival, all thanks to Eddie. He made sure you were snug and warm, wrapping you up so the chill wouldn’t bite. As soon as you stepped through the gates, he treated you to hot chocolate and a gingerbread man.

The two of you shared endless laughter while attempting to ice skate, your conversations flowing effortlessly. Hours slipped by, and before you knew it, your toes were numb, signalling it was time to head home.

Parting ways felt bittersweet; you longed to keep the conversation going all night, but deep down, you knew that would be too much for a first date. The bond you shared was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and it was clear Eddie felt it, too. You could almost see the enchanting connection that drew you together, like shimmering golden dust swirling in the air, creating an invisible thread that linked your hearts.

As Eddie bid you goodnight, he bravely leaned in for a gentle kiss. It was like time stopped, all the puzzle pieces had failed into place. Even it if it was chaste, it was sweet and tender, and you could sense his nervousness, but you let him take his time, savouring the moment. A broad smile spread across your face, silently assuring him that you felt the same spark he did. 

“I’ll call you.” he winks as he walks down the dirt driveway.

You pray to Hecate he does. 

You’ve lost count of the amount of dates you and Eddie have been on. It’s been almost three months and you couldn’t be happier, but the anxiety of telling him about who you are has been clawing at the back of your mind and it needs to be soon. Joyce had warned you that if you don’t take action within the next few weeks then the window of opportunity will be sealed forever. 

It seemed too soon like you were rushing into it. You hadn’t even said I love you, and yet you were expecting him to agree to a life of immortality with you?

Tonight, you had built up the courage to tell him about yourself. You invited Eddie over to your place. He has been here many times, but you glamoured most of the house to look somewhat normal. You hid your runes and sigils that were carved into your door frames, your potions room was made to look like a dining room, and your altar was locked away in the basement.  

But tonight all of that would be revealed, hopefully, it would be a small amount of magic that would t make him go running for the hills. 

As you looked around one last time, you heard Eddie approach the door. 

With a deep breath, you feel Clover rub against your leg for reassurance. 

“Thanks, babe.” You pick her up and open the door to see Eddie with his hand in a fist, like he was about to knock. 

“How do you always do that” he smiles pulling you in for a kiss. You’re not sure how but he always makes your head spin with even the simplest of kisses. 

“Call it intuition…” 

You guide him into the kitchen and offer him a drink. He asked for a beer, and as you pour it into a glass, you may or may not have slipped a drop of that relaxing tonic you conjured up into it, just for insurance purposes. 

“Mmm thank you, babe” Eddie smiles and you giggle at the a beer foam moustache on his face.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You lean in a kiss it away. 

“There, all better.” You lean back up to fix yourself a drink, a strong one. 

You’re unusually quiet as the night goes on, and Eddie can sense something is up. 

“You okay sweetheart?” He pushes your hair behind your shoulder as you both are curled up on the couch. 

“Yea… it’s just. I have to tell you something, and I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.” You twiddle with your almost empty glass in hand. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that? Eddie’s reassurance wasn’t helping, but it was nice that he truly thought that.

You take a big, deep breath in, trying to think back to how you rehearsed your lines in your head, and you begin.

“I want you to know that I care about you a lot.” You don’t miss Eddie’s eyes light up as you continue, “and I know what I am about to share is not what you’re going to expect, but you have to believe me that it changes nothing.” You look him deep in the eyes. 

“You’re freaking me out, babe.” He laughs nervously, so you take both his hands in yours. 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise.” 

He chuckles uncomfortably once again.

“I’m not… like… other women.” 

“No, you are not.” He wiggles his brows trying to lighten the mood.” 

“Eddieeee” you draw out his name, “I’m serious.” 

“Sorry, I‘ll be a good boy�� for now.” You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Eddie laughs at your dramatics, but when your eyes roll back, making eye contact with him, he notices they’re not the same colour. They’re deep orange, almost auburn. 

“Sweetheart, what’s going on” he tries to pull his hands away but you hold them tight.

“I told you, baby, I’m not like other women, I’m… different.” You thought letting the glamour of your eyes would help soften the blow but now you’re not so sure. 

“Your eyes! They.. they’re orange!” 

Eddie can’t look away, his face contorted with confusion. 

“It’s because I’m anxious.” 

“What does that mean?” He can’t look away. “Please, I want to understand.” 

It wasn’t like he was scared more confused than anything. 

“I’m a Witch, Eddie.” And with that you let the house revert to how it is supposed to be. 

A guest of wind blew through the house and with it was unveiled the old wood, deep rich jewel tones painted on the walls, tapestries, the portraits of old coven members long gone, the broom sweeping by itself, the clean dishes being levitated to their correct spots.

Eddie was frozen, his jaw was moving up and down but no words were coming out. He looked around the changed room frantically but also did not want to look away from you. It’s not that he thought you would hurt him, no. He felt things for you that he’s never felt for one singular person… but now he isn’t so sure. 

“This is insane” Eddie stood and your heart broke a little as you saw him start walking. Almost running to the door. 

“Eddie, please! Let me explain! Don’t be scared!”

“Don’t be scared?! There is a broom moving by itself” he shouts. 

“Please” you beg but it was of no use. 

“Just, give me a second” he spoke before slamming the door behind him he leaves you alone in your big empty house. 

Your eyes well up as you feel clover brush your ankles. Nudging you towards the door. 

She was telling you to go after him, but how could you? You terrified him, your worst fears coming to reality. 

“Clove, I can’t” 

Yes, you can. She spoke to you telepathically. 

As your familiar nudged you with her fluffy little head you stepped closer and closer toward the door. 

Through the stained glass you could see a figure pacing up and down the dirt driveway. 

“He didn’t leave” you whispered out loud. 

See, you look down and Clover is eying you. 

You decided to put the glamour back up, in case your eyes still freaked him out. 

“Eddie” you call out tentatively. 

“Babe, just… I need a minute” his breathing was heavy, his face contorted with confusion and he was mumbling to himself. 

To think you’re the crazy one in this situation…

On the bright side, he still called you babe, and not by your name. 

“Okay,” you stand awkwardly on the porch and wait for him to calm down.

After what felt like hours Eddie built up the courage to glance at you. His heart fluttered at the sight of you. Not because he was scared or nervous but because he knew you were it for him. Even after he digested the bomb you just dropped on him, he knew he wanted to be with you. 

“You are one freaky girl” he pointed as he walked towards the porch steps.

“I thought you liked freaky” You can’t help but flirt. It came so naturally to him. 

“You have no idea” he pulled you in for a hug. A suffocating, bone-crushing hug. One that told you he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Ok let’s talk,” he pulled away and you led him back in the house. 

You started from the beginning, explaining the coven, how your parents were also magical, but had been off gallivanting through the Betwixed realm for years now. 

“So, are you like 100 years old?” He smirks, and you smack his bicep. 

“No, I’m exactly how old I told you I am” 

“Sorry,” he laughed. 

You explain how the magic works, and he asks you if you’ve ever used any on him. 

“The only thing I have used in you is a tonic to calm you but it obviously didn’t work. Guess I needed more for you,” you half laugh to yourself. 

“That’s it? Really?” 

“Technically, yes.” you pause. and he waits silently for you to explain. “I performed an enchantment to find you.” You twiddle the hem of your skirt nervously. 

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t you, specifically, more like a nudge to point us both in the right direction.”

“So that’s why I had that feeling to go somewhere and I hadn’t known why? That’s why I walked into your shop!” He snapped his fingers as he put the pieces together.

“Yeah,” you smile. 

“So you desperately wanted me?” He moved closer, inviting your space. 

“Desperate?” You gasp.

“Yes, little Witch” he placed a gentle finger on your chin, nudging you to look at him. 

“We would have found one another eventually, it was written in the starts. Isn’t that what your cards told us?” 

“But we are running out of time” you confess. 

“What?” Eddie pulled back.

“There is this… rule, I guess you could call it? If a witch finds a mortal match, then they only have a small window to perform a ritual to make their loved one immortal, like them.” 

“Immortal?” 

“Yes, Eddie.” You sigh, “I can live forever if I want. We have life-extending magic, I don’t age the same. Our aging slows down as of the twentieth year of a witch’s life. I will look like this for the next sixty-five years probably.”

“Woah” Eddie whispers. 

“And the thought of us going through life together with you growing old and dying.” You choke back tears. 

“Hey, hey” Eddie soothed, and you took a deep breath. 

“But there is something we can do.” You sniffle. 

“I know it’s so soon, and a bit crazy. But I can promise you forever with me if that’s what you choose” 

Eddie’s eyes widen at the offering, “you don’t have to give me an answer now, but I will need to know soon, maybe a month or so.” 

“Then what?”

“Then I perform the ritual, or I wipe your memory clean of any of this” You can’t help your voice from cracking. 

“Oh,” Eddie looks down in disappointment. 

“Yeah….” A single purple tear falls down your cheek. 

You look up at Eddie and he sees your eyes are a deep blue, so blue Eddie knows what that feeling means. Sadness, despair, suffering. 

“So I live forever with you, or we break up?” 

“Yeah,” you sombrely nod your head. 

“What if I choose to live forever then, let’s say in a hundred years we decide to break up… then what?”

“That won’t happen, it doesn’t work like that.” 

“How do you know?” 

“The fates decided Eddie. When I cast the Amorem enchantment it draws the best two people suited for one another. Think of it like a soul mate match. We will never find another one suited for us.”

“What if I just want to live a normal life with you and not be immortal?” 

“Then I’m going to look like this and you’ll be a wrinkled old prune… and eventually I would watch you die and know that I’ll never have another love like ours.” 

“That dosen’t seem any better.” He sighs

“No, it’s much worse actually” You play with Eddie’s fingers as he contemplates his future. 

“I think I’m going to need something a bit stronger than this beer” he laughs half heartedly. 

“I have just the thing” 

After you whipped up a mood-boosting elixir, your night with Eddie became much easier to get through. The damper had been lifted as you and Eddie got drunk off the potion, boosting your serotonin levels. 

Eddie had never been so carefree and you were begging to feel much more positive about your future with Eddie. Maybe it was false hope in the fates, but you also trusted your magic. 

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie and you were in your bed, tucked in after a long night of just wanting to be close to each other.

“Sure” Eddie scoops you into his chest. 

“Are mermaids real? Because I would love to— ouch!” 

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence” you had pinched his nipple. Were you jealous? Maybe a little, but mermaids were vile creatures, nothing like Disney cracked them up to be. 

“Are they real?” Eddie flinched. 

“Unfortunately” 

“Cool!”

“What about Vampires?”

“Yep.”

“Werewolves?”

“Yep.”

“Unicorns?”

“Come on Eddie don’t be ridiculous” you snort.

“What? So witches, vampires, mermaids and werewolves are all real but the universe draws the line at unicorns?!” 

You burst out into a fit of giggles and before Eddie can even stop to think about what he is staying the words come tumbling out. 

“God, I love you.”  

The room falls quiet, no longer are you laughing. 

“I uh- I mean-“

“I love you, too” You lean down to kiss him. 

That nearly invisible force connecting you was now clear as day, to you at least. The magical pull that binds the two of you is now completed, and will never be broken. 

A faint glow filled the room as Eddie and your lips connected, a warmth was felt throughout your whole body, you were sure Eddie felt it too. The magical thread that connected you, whether Eddie accepted the fates or not… even if you wiped his memory of you, you both would still be able to feel it. No matter how long or how far apart you were. 

“Really? You love me?” Eddie asks. 

“I just asked you to spend forever with me, and you’re questioning if I love you?” 

“I just wanted to hear you say it again.” His lips brushed yours ever so slightly. 

“I love you, Eddie Munson” 

“I love you, little Witch.”

You let down your guard, the magic swirled in flecks of silver and gold light around the two of you as you lay on top of Eddie’s chest. His eyes widen at the sight above him. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever encountered. 

“Woah” he gasped, awestruck at the floating lights. “I think I could get used to this magic thing”

You let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Like a weight was lifted once you heard Eddie’s acceptance. Finally, you felt hopeful about your future. 

It’s been a week and a half since your confession to Eddie and things are going surprisingly well. His fascination is ever-growing as he keeps coming up with questions to ask you. The nature of your reality was sinking in, he was enamoured with the thought of you being supernatural. He wanted to learn, and you were happy to teach you were happy he accepted you for who you are and not pushing you away from fear. 

You hadn’t brought up the offer since that night, you were waiting for him to let you know his decision,  but you were hopeful because of his fascination. 

Today was a lazy day, you both have the rare day off at the same time, so Eddie was over and you were cuddling on the couch when he spoke up.

“I want to do it.”

“Do what, babe?”

“Forever with you.”

“Really?” a broad smile spreads across your face. nothing could keep you from your eyes turning yellow. 

Eddie still wasn’t quite used to all your magical quirks. However, he loved that your true mood could be read just by looking into your eyes. He loved learning what each colour meant, especially when they were red. 

“Really.” Eddie gave you a chaste kiss before pulling away to ask how the whole spell thing worked. 

“I think you’re going to like it.” You smirk knowingly.

Sometime later, you were finally finished downstairs in your altar room. The circle of protection chalked on the floor. The muddled herbs, bark and flowers boiled down into a paste, and your grimour propped open onto the spell you needed. 

The room was only lit by candlelight, twenty or so, spread across the room. 

You reach for Eddie’s hand and guide him down the stairs. 

“You must be sure this is one hundred percent what you want. It will not work if you are not willing to give up your mortality.”

“I’ve never been so sure about anyone.” 

“Okay, let us begin” You smirk, knowing Eddie has no idea what he is getting himself into. 

“Strip, please” 

“Oh,” he raises a brow. Then he sees it. Your red eyes. “Ohhh” He quickly discards his clothing. 

You watch as his cock is already stiffening. 

“Now be a good boy and step into the circle and lay down,” you ask while also discarding your garments. 

Eddie quickly obeys your orders. 

“Would you like me to explain the steps before or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“Will it hurt?”

“No” 

“Surprise me.” Eddie didn’t think his cock could be any harder. The anticipation was foreplay enough. 

You begin the ritual with a deep breath, stepping into the circle with your crystal bowl you straddle Eddie. You scoop the paste you created and create sigils over eddies chest with them while chanting in a language Eddie didn’t recognize. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Your hips start to gride on Eddie’s as you get lost in the chant. Your magic starts to take over your body as you get lost in all of it. The feeling, the love, the magic. Your red eyes were now glowing pure white. Eddie gazed up at you in awe as you continued chanting. He was not sure if you were still here with him or if something had taken over your body. 

“Fuck.” Eddie slips and your hand covers his mouth before your pussy slips his cock inside. 

Possessed by the magic you were channelling, your body performs the spell. The faster you chanted, the faster you fucked Eddie. 

Sex with you had been amazing, but nothing had compared to this. He loved the thrill of this, there was no way he would change his mind.

Eddie tried to tell you he was going to come, unsure if he was allowed to yet. But your hand still muffled his mouth.

You felt him deep in your gut, His thick cock stretching your walls, hitting every spot you needed. Euphoria was essential to the spell and Eddie sure was holding up his end of it. 

You heard muffled mumbles come for Eddie and you released your hand from his mouth. You were so far into the chanting that you couldn’t be stopped now even if Eddie tried to interrupt. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty. Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Eddie thinks those words will be etched into his memory forever. 

His hands roam your body before planting them on your hips. He couldn’t help himself he had to have it harder. Planting his feet on the ground, Eddie snaps his hips up into you, meeting your pace. The wet sounds of skin-on-skin echo through the basement walls, faster and faster, louder and louder. Your voice trumps the delicious sounds of sex, and then it hits you both. Your mind-numbing, explosive orgasms rip through each of you. Your bodies shake, and you let out a loud cry of pure bliss.

A blinding white light fills the room, blowing out all the candles you lit before they relate themselves. You collapse on top of Eddie, exhausted by the amount of magic youve performed. 

Breathless you and Eddie stay connected. 

“It is done?” Eddie asks in a daze, not sure if he is supposed to feel any different. 

Without enough energy to speak, you nod your head against Eddie’s chest. 

“You’re incredible, little Witch.”  and that is the last thing you remember before falling asleep. 

You wake up, your cheek cemented to Eddie’s tattoo-clad chest. 

“There she is.” Eddie storks your hair. 

“How long was I out?” you mumble, rubbing the sleep from our eyes. 

“An hour, I can only guess.” 

Eddie shifted and you felt him still inside of you so you grind your soar hips so he slips further in.

“You’re a succubus.” 

“You wish” You kiss his neck. “How do you feel?” 

“Like I could move a mountian.” Eddie sighs as you grind down on him, cock growing with each push. 

“Mmmm, good” you hum. 

Eddie could no longer take it, even though he had the best orgasm of his life an hour ago, you were like a drug to him. He wanted more. 

Flipping you around so you are on your back, Eddie spreads your legs further apart, watching how his cock buried deep within you.

You admire the now permanent sigil etched into his skin like a tattoo. You didn’t even know if Eddie was aware of the new ink that came with forever existence, but that all gets erased when his hips jerk so deeply within you that your eyes turn a colour Eddie has never seen before. The most beautiful deep purple. 

“Baby" you moan. 

“Fuck, little Witch,” you can’t help but clamp down on him. 

“Oh you like that don’t you, Sorceress.” 

“Y-yes” you tremble.” 

Eddie can’t believe how powerful he feels; you’ve granted him this gift and he needs to show his appreciation in return. 

He pulls out, and you plead, but not for long because he buries his face between your legs. Your sweet slick coats his tongue as it dances around your clit. 

“More” You plead. Your hips gride down on his chin, and the stubble on his cheeks scrapes your inner thighs. 

“I’ll give you anything you want.” He was yours to serve. His tounge swirls around your extra sensitive clit.

“Make me cum.” 

A wave of pleasure hits you hard when Eddie pushes his cock back inside your needy cunt. With each thrust, he works himself through your orgasm, making your head spin; wave after wave consumes your body. You feel his hands graze your nipples, tweaking them and making you clench down on him even tighter. 

With Eddie’s head thrown back, sweat dripping down his chest glittering the candle light he looked like a deity. 

After one more final thrust Eddie collapses on top of you. 

“That was amazing.” He nuzzles into your neck and you can’t help but agree. 

When Eddie finally pulls out, you feel a rush of release come out with him. 

“You’re a messy little Witch, aren’t you?”

“Me?” 

“Yes” he slips a finger through your slit collecting your combined cum and you jerk away, your cunt all so sensitive. 

“Well, you’re the one who asked for it” you smirk. 

“I would be an idiot to deny being with you like this for eternity”

“You think so?” 

“Know so.”

tags : @ghostlyfleur @veemoon @abitchyouhate @thewayitalknj @mediocredreams @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth @daisy-munson @strawberrycheesecakedelight @just-random-thoughts-and-things @oneforthemunny @gagasbee @abirdinthehouse @saintlvcifer @hauntedfawnn @eerielamb @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @andvys @pollenallergie

[protectingrose]

It's my 8 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[protectingrose]

♥️⚔️♥️⚔️

Violent Hearts Masterlist

Emperor Geta x reader

Used as a pawn in your father’s games, you are sent to Rome as a plaything for the Emperors to do with as they please.

One despises your very existence.

The other seems intrigued. But what exactly does he see when he looks at you?

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI (coming soon)

[protectingrose]

😱 something’s about to happen.. !

Can’t wait for the next chapter!!!

Death Becomes Us

Part 8: Warm Hands, Frozen Hearts

vampire!eddie x supernatural!reader

masterlist playlist

18+Only, werewolf!steve, allusions to smut, allusions to devious deeds, mention of addiction, mention of drinking blood, angst, waitress!erica, Bob Newby lives, Chief Hopper sighting, as well as another glimpse of vampire!max.

summary: you go on your "just friends" date with werewolf!steve, but meanwhile, Eddie makes a bold decision and things heat up between the two of you. Jareth's interest in you grows stronger, as does his determination to find out exactly who/what you are as everything begins to come to a head.

word count: 4.8k

author's note: for the sake of this story, Jareth is meant to be a cross between Jamie Campbell Bower and Eric Northman from True Blood. As a little reminder, The Upside Down exists in this story, but not the same way it does in ST. All of the ST characters in this do not know each other in the same way they do in the show. But, Steve and Robin are friends, because, well, always.

Fanger: derogatory slang for Vampire

Previous Chapter here

One week earlier

Steve was summoned to visit Sacrament in the Upside Down, and he should have gone with a few of his brothers in the pack but decided he didn't want company.  He snuck out there through the portal in the woods in his hulking wolf form at first, to sniff the place out, noting the high number of vampires and demobats circling overhead.  

He came back the next night in his truck, through the bridge, and was told to ask for Craven at the bar.

Craven sniffed the air and snarled when Steve walked up, and Steve returned the gesture, curling his top lip to show that he had sharp teeth too.  Werewolves were very strong—supernaturally so—but they were not immortal like vampires, and so it was always wise to operate around bloodsuckers with a measure of caution.

“I’m here to see Jareth,” Steve shouted over the synth music, squeezing in between two scantily clad human women.  

Steve was dressed like he’d just come from chopping wood in the mountains in a plaid button-down and jeans, and a wholesome curl of dark hair that bounced over his forehead.  Craven, on the other hand, was tattooed from neck to hands, wearing a wife beater that fit tight around his muscles and slicked back hair that was a bit greasy, but in a sexual way.  

“No one sees Jareth without an invitation,” Craven said smugly, throwing a rag over his shoulder to brace his hands in front of him.

Steve gave a wry smile.  “You think I’d come here just to shoot the breeze with you Fangers? He knows I’m coming.”

Craven clicked his tongue disapprovingly and went to grab the phone on the wall above the cash register, but in the blink of an eye, Jareth was already standing there, right next to Steve. He must have watched him come in on one of the cameras mounted on the ceiling. Steve moved back, out of surprise, but then he stepped forward again, meeting blonde, vampire Jareth eye to eye, letting him know he wasn’t afraid.

Steve really wasn’t afraid; his alpha ego was too big for that. Sure, he knew there was a chance that an older vampire might best him in the end, but he’d get the fight of his life.  

“Whatever he wants, it’s on the house,” Jareth told Craven, all while never taking his eyes off his guest.  

Steve declined a beverage and followed in Jareth’s wake through the sea of people moving to the music under the blue lighting.

Back in the simple black and cream decor of his office, Jareth found his firey assistant Maxine sitting behind his desk and he waved her out.  

“Oh? You didn’t tell me we were adopting a pound puppy,” she teased with a deadpan delivery, keeping a bored expression on her face.  

Steve knew they’d be taking cheap shots at him, he’d prepared himself for it.

“Get out, Maxine,” Jareth said impatiently.  “I need to have a word with our lycanthrope friend here.”

She obeyed, slinking out the door in her skin tight latex dress and platform heels, smacking her glossy lips in Steve’s face as she went.  

Jareth was in all black with a slim leather jacket on that looked like it had been tailored just for him.  He perched at the front of the desk, crossing his booted feet at the ankles, and folded his arms over his chest.

“Take a seat,” he told Steve.

Steve glanced down at the chair in front of Jareth.  “I’ll stand, thanks. What is this about?”

“You really don’t know why I’ve asked you here?” Jareth’s face looked like it was carved out of stone. “Do you need a hint?” 

For the first time, Steve broke eye contact.  “I don’t have any news about the girl.”

Jareth tilted his head back, so that he was looking down his nose at the visitor.  “You’ve been keeping an eye on her, like I asked?”

Steve gave a tight nod. 

The truth was that Steve hadn’t accidentally bumped into you at the bookstore that day two months ago; he knew where you would be and he’d sought you out.  His pack were in league with what some would consider “vampire royalty” and they made a lot of money doing jobs for them. 

At first, he started looking out for you because Jareth told him too.  But after around the third week, he realized he was protecting you because he cared about you.  He didn’t trust anyone from the pack to watch your trailer after dark, so he did it himself.  There were a few nights when he swore you’d looked out from your kitchen window and saw him: two red eyes glowing in his honey brown fur.  

“What’s your interest in her?” Steve chanced, knowing full well that Jareth would not answer it if he didn’t want to.  

“She says she’s human, but I don’t believe her,” Jareth raised an eyebrow.  “There’s something else going on with that one, and until I find out, I don’t want any harm to come to her.”

You weren’t human, Steve knew that from the first smell.  You were part human, part something else, as if your blood were filled with static from a television.  

“I asked you here because I need you to get closer to her, to see if you can find out anything more about her…condition.”

Steve didn’t like this anymore, he felt like he was being dishonest to you, and that one day you’d find out he was hired to watch you instead of being the avid science fiction lover he’d claimed to be.  Every time he interacted with you lately, he wanted to mention it, but he couldn’t figure a casual way to say, “hey, I’m being paid to watch you, I sleep in the woods outside your trailer a few nights a week, but I’m starting to have feelings, and was wondering if you were free for dinner?”

Steve pulled his shoulder’s back, puffing his chest out a bit.  “If you want to know more about what she is, why don’t you just ask her, man? What’s with all the cloak and dagger?”

Jareth pushed off the desk and walked over to look at a piece of abstract splatter art on the wall while he spoke, clasping his hands behind his back.  “My presence at her trailer park would certainly ring some alarms, I’m sure you are not so dense,” his tone was condescending but proper.  “I don’t want anyone, especially Munson, to know that I have any interest in her. Not yet, anyway.”

Since Steve had been watching you, he was also well aware of Eddie’s comings and goings. “Eddie hasn’t interacted with her in weeks, not that I’ve seen,” Steve told him.  “Appears like the two are avoiding each other.”

Jareth scoffed.  “I’m not particularly a fan of his, but when Edward has a job to do, he does it well,” he turned from the painting and went around the desk.  “My gut tells me that he has something up his sleeve, and my gut is never wrong.”

Steve let the information sink in.  “You don’t think Eddie would hurt her? He’s a car thief and a drug dealer, but not a killer.”

Jareth bent down to pretend to look at some paperwork, but then his eyes lifted to Steve and he smirked. “Is that what he told you?”

“We’ve never really talked but—”

“I’ve been doing my own investigating, but until I get some answers, just get close to her however you can, I want to accelerate this end game.”

“And what endgame is that?” Steve’s voice was low and commanding as he pushed the sleeves of his flannel up to reveal the generous muscles in his forearms.  He rested his back against the wall, not sure he wanted to know the answer. 

“The official endgame, Sir Harrington,” Jareth’s striking, ancient blue eyes gleamed.  “Is none of your business.”

—---

“Sorry about that,” you told Steve as you climbed into the cab of his truck. “I had no idea he was coming over.”  

You were apologizing for Eddie, of course, and the way he’d been giving Steve the death stare when he’d come to pick you up.  The snow was coming down harder now, in huge wet flakes the size of quarters, plopping like dissolving puffs of cotton onto the windshield of the truck.

“Was he bothering you?” Steve asked protectively, glaring at the door to Eddie’s trailer while you fumbled with your seatbelt.  

“No, he’s…he’s just a friend,” you said, trying to blink away the flashes of all of the sex dreams you had of him that were ricocheting through your head. 

After Eddie had stepped out of your trailer and shut the door, he’d stood on your porch for a minute, taking his time to light a cigarette before slowly making his way over to his place.  He made eye contact with Steve a few times through the windsheild, wondering if he should kill him.

The inside of Steve’s big old truck was warm, it smelled like winter wool and the yellow vanilla car freshener he had hanging from the radio knob.  The song Working Man by Rush played low from the speakers.  

You’d heard about the Werewolves of Hawkins from Bob and Argyle when a few of them came into the bar one night.  Apparently, they were very reclusive and only ventured to town in human form every so often.  

“Have you never seen a werewolf before?” Bob Newby, the owner of the bar you worked at, asked you with a tilt of his head and a curious smile.  “They’re all over the woods.  Beautiful creatures.”

He’d said it so casually, as if a man turning into a wolf and roaming around at night was the most normal thing in the world.  

“Are there no werewolves where you come from?” Argyle asked while he wiped down a bottle of tequila.  

You moved your eyes as if to think.  “Uh, nope, not that I know of anyway.  Hawkins is the only place I’ve ever heard of them ever existing before.  What’s next? Are you going to tell me that Fairies and Shapeshifters are real too?”

Bob and Argyle exchanged a knowing look.  Bob gave you a consolation pat on the back, “one day at a time there, missy.  Let’s give you a chance to get used to werewolves first, and then we can move on to the next.”

That night in the darkness of the movie theater with Steve, you turned to whisper in his ear.  “Can you change into a werewolf whenever you want, or only during a full moon?”

He chuckled, leaning in so that his cheek was on your head. He was so warm, you wondered if he had a fever.  “When you’re a pup, in the early days, the transformation happens at the most awkward times.  Once we get older and learn how to control our emotions, we can go through the change whenever we need to.”

“Like right now?” Your lips were close to his neck, breath tickling his skin, giving him goosebumps.  

The side of his mouth moved against your forehead. “Just say the word, darlin’.”

Your hands fumbled together a few times while reaching for popcorn at the same time, and a voice in your head said:

This is nice

Steve is nice

Steve was a good guy who probably thought you were a normal woman who’d led a fairly typical life, and you worried you were misleading him.  

There were a few times though, after the movie and on the ride back, when you felt like he wanted to tell you something, but then he would stop short.  He’d rub the back of his neck and start out with, “yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” but then he’d shake his head and jump to another topic.  

Steve cursed to himself at how bad he was fumbling the night, he felt like he was a goddamn teenager again. 

The only thing he knew for sure after that night was that he liked you a lot, and more than ever he needed to cut ties with Jareth. He’d been meaning to break free from the politics of the pack to become a Lone Wolf, and this felt like the perfect opportunity.  He was next in line to be Alpha, but it was a role that he had no interest in playing.  

Parked next to the hearse in front of your trailer again, the snow had stopped, but it was up to your ankles now, and you couldn’t help but notice the light in Eddie’s living room was on.  

“Here, wait, let me walk you,” Steve insisted.

“No, I’m good,” you were already on the ground, looking up at him across the seat.  “If Bela hears your voice too close to the house, she’ll just go nuts again.”

You'd told him about your new companion earlier, and he looked at you like you'd decided to take in a pet dragon.

“I’ll wait here until I know you got in okay.” Steve said softly, giving you a nod.  “Hey, are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

“I’m, well, I think–” you stammered.  Was Steve about to ask you on an actual date? “I might pick up a shift at Main Vein tomorrow night.”

“There’s going to be a reading at the bookstore, and I promised Robin I’d help string some lights and set up some chairs.  So, I’ll be in the neighborhood if you want to get something to eat or, whatever.  I’d really like to see you again.”

He said the last part in a rush, partially hoping you wouldn’t catch it.

The admission made your cheeks hot under his steady gaze.

You told him you’d stop by if you weren’t waitressing, and at your front door with the key in the lock, you turned to wave at him one more time over your shoulder before slipping inside to flip the deadlock behind you.  You closed your eyes and leaned against the door until you heard the rumble of his truck growl onto the main road, and then you flipped the lights on.  

“Mr. Wonderful couldn’t walk you to the door?” 

The voice made you jump and a scream caught in your throat.

Eddie was sitting on your couch, arms stretched out over the back of it, as if it were his trailer and he’d been expecting you.  

You let the shock of it subside, taking a long breath to slow your heart rate. 

You hung your bag on the hook by the door and started to shrug out of your coat.  “You know, when I invited you in, I didn’t mean break in whenever you felt like it.”

“I didn’t break in,” he lowered one arm and rested that hand between his legs. “I know where you hide your spare key.”

“It’s not funny, Eddie,” you threw your jacket on the recliner.  “I’d like you to leave now, please.”

“How was your date?” He bit out the last part.

“I’m not answering any of your questions,” you stopped in your tracks and looked around, suddenly alert.  “Where is Bela? I don’t hear her.  Eddie, if you did anything to her, I will —-”

“I would never hurt her,” he moved to stand up, and under his breath he added, “or you.”

“So?” You flapped your arms out, impatiently, blood pressure spiking.  “Where is she?”

Eddie came forward and put a finger to his lips, motioning for you to lower your voice.  He guided you down the hallway, ignoring your protests, until he arrived at your bedroom door and turned the knob, opening it slowly.

Bela was curled up on your bed in a blanket, breathing heavy like she’d just been dosed with a tranquilizer.  

“She broke out again while you were gone,” he whispered.  “Blew the bathroom door right off its hinges and came scratching at my door like maybe I had you.”

Your eyes went to the window across the room, seeing that there were boards hammered over it now, which was more of Eddie’s handiwork.

Feeling you softening at his side, Eddie pulled the door closed with a click.  You were having a hard time meeting his eyes.  You’d been so mad at him, so ready to scream and kick him out into the snow.

“She let you hold her?” You asked, noticing that you no longer had a bathroom door, Eddie must’ve taken it out to fix it.

“I'm charming, what can I say?” he shrugged.  “And I gave her some of my blood from a little eyedropper.”

“You what?” You spun on him, appalled.

“Don’t sound so horrified,” He put his hands on his hips once you reached the kitchen.  “They need vampire blood to calm their nervous system.  She’ll sleep like a baby now.”

In the book you were reading, the author did say that demobats who drank regular doses of vampire blood seemed to fare better than the others, but you’d decided to disregard that information as speculation.  

“In that case, I guess I should say thank you,” you opened the fridge and took out the Brita water filter and a glass from the cupboard.  

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his thigh against the counter.  “Did that Steve guy try to make a move on you or what?”

You frowned at him.  “Listen, you don’t get to invade my space and bombard me with personal questions.  Why does it matter so much to you what we did?”

“I don’t trust him,” Eddie had his eyes trained on one spot in front of him, studying a patch of air while he worked his jaw.  

“If it’s any comfort, I don’t think he cares much for you, either.”

Eddie’s head spun to look at you.  “What did he say about me?”

“Nothing!” You clarified, raising the tone of your voice to match his. “He didn’t mention you at all, actually.  It’s just a feeling I got.”

You took a drink, and when you put the glass back down, Eddie moved in, bracketing your hips with his hands on the countertop, caging you there while he searched your eyes.  “Did he kiss you?”

You didn’t answer right away, and so he asked it again.

“Did he kiss you?”

The way his lips hovered there so close to yours made you swallow hard. The air between the    two of you crackled with electricity.  You waited for his eyes to go black, for his fangs to eject, for him to take your blood into his mouth like he had that night in the alley.  

“Would it bother you if he had?” There was an air of pleading in your tone that you had not intended to be there.

Please let it bother you.

Eddie slid his bottom lip through his teeth and leaned back, stepping away from you.  “I just think you should keep your distance from him, that’s all.  Werewolves are notoriously…” he trailed off as if searching for the right word. “...undisciplined.”

You wondered about Eddie’s discipline, how hard it was for him not to go the rest of the way and claim you just then.  To sink his teeth in and suck on that nectar of yours that he craved so deeply.  You could see the desire in his eyes, the way the brown irises melted into umber and his pupils expanded.  

You would not have stopped him, that was the final truth of it.

In that moment, you knew that if Eddie Munson wanted to kiss you, you would not put up a fight. 

You would not pull back and ask, “what are you doing?”

You would just know. 

“I changed the bulb in your porch light, by the way,” he added on his way to the door.  “Noticed it was out.”

You did not turn to watch him go, you kept your back to him.  “Thank you again for Bela and for boarding up the window.”

He mumbled something under his breath that made you look over your shoulder.  “What was that?”

He stopped in his tracks with his hand on the doorknob, hair long around the shoulder of his leather jacket.  “I said, you know where I am, if you ever need anything.”

Eddie stepped out onto your front porch and exhaled a shuddering, long-held breath.  He shut his eyes and rubbed the heels of his palms into them.  “Holy shit, Munson, you are such an idiot,” he scolded himself, feeling a sprinkle of snow again on his flesh.  

He took a step down and then paused, thinking he should go back in.

Thinking he should tell you…everything.

Maybe you would understand.

Maybe you’d lean into his kiss and pull him closer.

Maybe…

But then the shadow of uncertainty shrouded him and he kept going.

—-------

You ended up covering for Argyle behind the bar the next night while he went to California for a week, and thankfully it was a slow shift because you were still figuring out what alcohol went in which drink.  But then a crowd of people on their way to the poetry reading at Robin’s came through, and two of them were vampires, so you had to get out the manual to remember which synthetic blood type to use in the various mixtures.

“Another whiskey with a beer back for the Chief,” Erica scooted up next to you and tapped your arm to get you to lean in closer to her.  “Do you think he’s waiting for someone?”

Jim Hopper was in a booth by himself in the dimly lit room, facing the door, and you had noticed that he seemed very interested in getting a good look at everyone who came in that evening. He still had his uniform on, since he was only recently off the clock, and he was tapping his knee and chewing on the side of his fingernail with some type of anticipation.

You knew that if you got closer, you’d be able to get a better read on his emotional state.

“I’ll take it to him,” you said to Erica, and then the two of you talked about the movie you went to with Steve because she hated it and said she was angry those were two hours of her life she could never get back.  “I can’t believe you let a werewolf take you on a date,” she squinted.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were looking for trouble.”

You moved around her with both of Jim’s drinks and winked.  “I’m the one who’s trouble.  They come looking for me.”

“Oh I believe that,” she quipped in your wake.

The closer you got to Jim, the more you could sense the yearning inside of him.  There was desperation with sadness around the edges, and the hint of a familiar sinister urge, much like you’d felt with the Klemps all those weeks ago.  

His eyes met yours only briefly when you set his drinks down, and then you asked if he wanted one menu or two.  

“Not tonight, thanks.  I’m waiting for someone, and then I need to split,” he nodded as he warmed the whiskey in his big hands and wiped a sheen of perspiration from his forehead.

Well, there was your answer.

You and Hopper both looked up when the door opened that time, and you were pleasantly surprised to see Steve standing there.  Shoulders broad in his plaid shirt and his luscious head of hair looking wild from the wind outside.  His face lit up when he saw you. 

“Hey stranger,” you walked over to him, beaming.  

Steve had been pacing out on the sidewalk between the bookstore and the bar for the past 15 minutes trying to decide if he should go in or not.  By the way you were smiling at him, he could tell he'd made the right decision.  

“Hey, you,” he gave a smirk and raked his big hand through his unruly hair a few times.  He glanced around at the 8 or 9 customers.  “Do you have a break soon?  Or can I bring you anything?”

“My shift is over in an hour,” you talked as you returned to your station, waving at Bob through the serving hatch.  Steve rested his elbow on the bar.  “I was thinking I’d make my way over to the bookstore if you’re still around.”

“Oh I think I’ll be around,” he assured, tapping his knuckles on the wood, not wanting to sound too eager.  Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Erica glaring at him.  She was not much of a fan of the supernatural.  

Right behind Steve, a strikingly beautiful woman with short black hair and red lips strolled in. She had a long leather coat that she pulled tightly around her as she walked, and she appeared to know exactly where she was going, strolling over with ancient grace  to Jim’s table.  He stood up to greet her, and then they hunched across the table toward each other as if they were telling secrets.  

You realized you were staring as you spotted a tiny vial of dark liquid in her palm just before she slid it across the way to him under a cupped hand.  

“I’ll come back when you’re finished,” Steve said a few other things, but your mind had not retained them.  “We can walk over together.”

“Sure,” you said absently.  The mysterious woman with Jim got up and left after only a minute or two. Jim downed the rest of his drink, left a tip, and exited out the back, putting his hat on as he went.  

A bit later, as you were changing out of your apron in the back room and counting your bills, you wondered where Eddie was and what he was doing.

It made you curse out loud, the persistent way your mind clung to him.

It was irrational and wholly unfair.  

You wanted him to pull up in the GTO and tell you to get in without any explanation of why or where you were going. 

The customers continued to wane, and Bob told you to skedaddle 20 minutes earlier than you’d expected, so you figured you’d get a head start and meet Steve half way. Erica flipped you off, playfully mocking the fact that you could go home before her.  You snuggled down into your winter coat and pushed through the employee door that led to the parking lot at the greeting of a gust of bitingly cold wind.  You stopped to pull your gloves out of your pockets and the door that could only be opened from the inside locked shut behind you.  

When you looked up, Jareth stepped out of the shadows and loomed there, blocking your path.  

“I’m afraid you'll have to come with me, love.”  

----

hugs and kisses, thank you so much for reading! Your comments, asks, and reblogs mean the world xoxo

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[protectingrose]

ψ♡

•• He ate my heart , He ate my heart ..••

••That boys a monster.. ••

. T H A N A .

Coming soon ..🩸

This story will be 18+ ..

Are you ready ?

-Chp1- that boys a Monster ..

[protectingrose]

🖤♥️

Happily ever after

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Princess!Reader

Summary: A usual day in the kingdom of Nyzeen. Winter was always cold but never as cold as this day, when chaos reigned, shedding a lot of blood but giving you a magical gift.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, fem!reader, use of Y/N, drama, bad language, age gap, secret relationship, violence, blood, threats, invented events, violent themes and actions, vomiting, illnesses, murder, crying. (Attention! in this one-shot themes and characters invented by me will be explained, and it is not a continuation of any of my previous works.)

A/N: I said I'd bring back another one-shot about the vampiric version of Eddie in this fantasy world, and so I did! I love when I invent fantastic places and creatures, and I really like how I wrote this one-shot, I hope you like it too. Sorry for my english this is not my native language. Please support and reblog! Hope you enjoy this one. (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

The snow fell gently, coloring white the entire kingdom of Nyzeen. The cold was felt and obviously evil was always present to threaten your home. Many vampires have killed families and children who lived in the village, draining their blood and depriving them of their lives. Your father, the king, together with some soldiers went to clean up The Black Forest, eliminating as many vampires as possible.

Even if you wanted good in your kingdom you couldn't deny your concern for Eddie, as he was also one of those creatures and also your beloved.

It was all out of the ordinary, it's true. But your affection and love towards a mystical and deadly creature like Eddie was something you couldn't explain. He was everything you wanted in a man and certainly his dangerousness and his species didn't matter to you in the slightest.

You were wandering around the castle, it was late afternoon and there was a solitary air in the large walls. Your long ash-colored dress highlighted your beauty along with the ruby ​​jewelry. You looked at the large windows noticing the beautiful cold snow falling. You had left your rooms to move your legs a bit, you were tired of always staying in your room and you asked your mother if you could spend some time around the facility. She didn't deny it but still warned you to be careful, even though the castle was well protected, no one could assure you that they wouldn't get in somehow.

Your mother was now in her room sick, the cold had played a bad joke on her by making her catch a fever. The doctor said she would recover and that in the meantime she should stay in bed and eat only hot meals. Meanwhile, your father was becoming more and more obsessed with vampires. They were driving him crazy and he swore to God that he would exterminate every vampire scum on the earth. This big hatred of his was obviously justified, after all the vampires had killed his mother, or rather your grandmother. However, you couldn't fully understand his obsession with creating chaos. You wanted to tell him how all vampires weren't like that, and that there are good-hearted vampires, like your beloved Eddie.

You stopped in the middle of the long corridor feeling your head spinning and a sense of nausea come over you. You've been like this for at least a week, you didn't have a fever or anything but you felt slightly cold and ate little. You didn't say anything to anyone, you wanted to handle it yourself, you knew what would happen if you opened your mouth, you didn't want to stay in bed for days, so you decided that you would take care of yourself in your own way. Most likely you had eaten something that made you sick and even made you vomit, so you made sure to eat healthy meals and water from the Lake of the Three Fairies. Water which is said to be magical and governed by the three fairies, small creatures who give magic to the lake, in this water it cures and heals those who drink it. You remember when some time ago your father had taken it upon himself to fetch water from the lake to save your mother from serious injuries after the war against Lilith. The lake from here is quite far and full of dangers, it was not easy for him, but everything he did was not in vain and he managed to meet the fairies and ask them for permission to take water.

You placed a hand on your belly, slowly feeling the nausea go away after you took some deep breaths. Screams outside alarmed you and through the foggy glass of the window you saw some torches lit. The fire from those torches was blazing hot and people shouted something as a large black figure headed over the castle. You ran to see if your mother was okay. You didn't know what that thing was, but you hoped with all your heart that it hadn't entered the castle.

You were in front of the door and heard the sound of armor. You turned and saw your father "Y/N!" He hugged you and you looked at him "Father, are you okay?" He nodded "I came to see if you and your mother were okay" You released yourself from the hug "I'm fine. But, what was that thing?" You asked looking at your father's panting face, apparently he had run too much to reach you "He was a high-class vampire, we managed to hurt him but he managed to fly above the other floors of the castle. I ran to you straight away" you didn't said nothing, you just watched his movements as he took a deep breath "I'll take care of your mother, you lock yourself in your room, I'll send a guard to check on you" he said and you nodded "Yes father" You replied. Your father entered while you ran to your room.

A high-class vampire...

It couldn't be him.

High-class vampires are people who have been transformed and have taken in a large amount of blood over a hundred years, thus making them vampires with self-control but evil and ruthless personalities. Eddie was one of those, you were seriously afraid that he was seriously injured. You entered, slamming the door and what you saw left you speechless. Eddie lay bleeding on your balcony as he shivered from the cold.

You didn't think twice. You opened your balcony grabbing the vampire and dragging him into your room. It was freezing and the blood just flowed. His wings were also wounded but never as much as his stomach was torn by a blade stuffed with Verbena. You were panicking. Verbena was a powerful plant against species like them, if you didn't do something immediately he wouldn't survive. You sat him on the floor with his back against the wall. His eyes were closed but he was still breathing “Eds…” you whisper, placing a hand on his cold cheek.

No. I don't have to waste time. You thought. You stood up determinedly as you left your room running to your mother.

You were in front of her door, you prayed that your father wasn't there and so you opened the door, there was no one there. Your mother was sleeping peacefully on her bed and you immediately spotted the dresser. You got it. The water of the Lake of the Three Fairies. You couldn't have taken better medicine to heal his wound. You left unnoticed and as soon as you arrived in your rooms you opened the door to find a guard in front of the vampire, ready with his sword to cut off his head.

"Princess stand back, I will kill this beast in no time" he said as the vampire whimpered in pain.

The blood was on the floor and still spreading across your wooden floor. A horrifying scene. The sword filled with blood as dark as your jewels as you moved his body to the side getting closer to the vampire. Eddie had his hand on the wound, most likely trying to stop the bleeding.

“Eddie” you called out to him but he didn’t answer. You took the bottle and poured the water on his wound. Eddie groaned in pain, most likely burning but then he calmed down and you saw his wound heal itself. The bottle was empty, you had used it all. You had to be one hundred percent sure that the water would save him. You placed your hand on his chest feeling his heart beat. You let out a smile. But it was still freezing. You stood up past the guard's corpse and lit the fireplace in the center of your room with a match.

After a while the vampire woke up in your warm room with his stomach healed, as if he had never been hurt. Before him lay a dead guard wrapped in a blood-stained sheet and the floor apparently cleaned of the mess. You were cuddled up to him, giving him more warmth. The vampire's wings wrapped around you keeping you close, he understood that it was you who cured him and also killed the guard, he couldn't be more in love. You opened your eyes looking at him in that sweet and affectionate state "Hey..." You said and he smiled at you "Hey princess" You stroked his long brown curls "How are you feeling?"

“Better, thanks for being my knight” as a response you gave him a kiss which he immediately returned.

You wanted that sweet moment to last forever but then a loud noise made you jump on the spot "Y/N open the door!" your father was banging repeatedly on the sealed door of your bedroom “Fuck...” you cursed in a whisper, both of you jumping up. You looked at Eddie and now even with just one look you could communicate. He nodded, opening your balcony and flying away but not before saying, "I'll be right back."

"Y/N are you in there? Honey open the door please" your father begged again. You didn't answer and just stared at the wooden door while holding one of the Verbena swords.

The time had come...

Eddie returned after half an hour, dispatching the uncontrolled vampires before they arrived at the village and caused more trouble. It landed as usual on your balcony in your room, but no trace of you...

Indeed, the corpses had increased. Now three corpses lay on the ground, all royal guards "Y/N..." he said your name afraid of where you had gotten yourself.

He walked through the corridors of the castle noticing that the corpses of guards and Lady and Lord were on the ground. Eddie thought some other out-of-control vampire had attacked your castle and made a killing. But then he saw you...

You were on your knees while holding on to the sword, your father looking at you in amazement who was also armed. Your clothes were stained with blood and you were now enduring great nausea and vomiting, apparently your illness had not healed...

"My daughter...why are you doing all this? Has someone done something to you? Please tell me" Your father looked at your pain and couldn't point his sword at you, you were his daughter... "Honey, what's wrong with you? A vampire bit you? Did they hurt you? " He knelt in front of you admiring your gorgeous face. You wanted to get up, but you couldn't, the headache was strong and your strength was leaving you "You could never understand father..." You said in a weak voice as your hand lay on your belly "Why did you kill everyone Y/N? Did anyone put a curse on you? Explain it to me!" The man was on the verge of crying but you didn't respond.

Eddie, who had remained there watching the scene, made himself noticed by the king and the man remained silent for several seconds before saying "No..." then he looked at you, he had understood everything.

"Son of a bitch..." he took his sword back and Eddie was on his guard "It was you. You abused my daughter by making her your slave" he screamed at him but Eddie didn't move "You ruined her future, her life! And now I will make sure you suffer" he declared, positioning himself waiting for his move. Eddie however didn't move "Father..." you called him "No! You have been defiled by him Y/N. I promise you that I will get rid of that beast he created, even if it means hurting you... but I will save you my daughter" his words were unfortunately as you expected. He would never understand, and you certainly didn't expect him to, but you were very sorry.

He then pointed the sword at you and Eddie wasted no time, now blinded by rage. He jumped on the man and your father yelled "Eddie!" You screamed in fear as you tried in vain to get up. Eddie injured the man and then walked towards you trying to keep you standing. The headache was still present from too much effort, but the warmth of the vampire and his wings that protected both of you were enough to make you take deep breaths, calming you down and making that feeling of vomiting go away.

Your father was seriously injured and cried seeing you two so close. Your heart was about to break in two, you tried to move closer but Eddie's grip stopped you "It's okay" you said and he let you go. You knelt down and looked at your crying father's face "My daughter please don't let yourself be subjugated by him" you caressed his face "Your mother and I love you and you know this, so recover and save yourself from his clutches" you shook your head smiling as a few tears fell "I know father, I love you too. But I love him" the king was shocked "Of a vampire..." he continued to stare into your eyes "what a shame...my daughter is a witch" he said and your tears continued to fall "Go to hell-" he didn't have time to say anything else before you stabbed him with your dagger that until now you have hidden under your dress.

You were sad, but you knew it had to be done. You had always been afraid of getting to this point but you had to find the strength to keep going. Eddie hugged you from behind consoling you "It's okay princess..." your tears stopped after a while and together with Eddie you walked out of the castle.

The snow was always more beautiful as it was freezing. It reminds you of when your parents told you about your birth, one of the coldest days Nyzeen had ever felt. The inhabitants of the castle had been exterminated except for your mother. She was sick in bed, therefore an easy target, but if killing your father was difficult, your mother would have been impossible, you didn't kill her. You cut off one of her legs to prevent her from walking and therefore from doing anything. She wouldn't understand either, but you wanted to make her understand, she would learn to accept Eddie and that not all vampires were like Lilith, the devil's daughter and woman who had reigned over vampires for years and years, then defeated by your father.

"So, why did you exterminate everyone?" Right, Eddie still didn't know anything. "They saw you, they hurt you and I killed a guard to protect you. I could never justify myself" was your response as the darkness was about to arrive "That's all? Just beacuse you do a little murder? Don't lie to me princess, I know you're hiding something from me. You would never have done something so rash without a specific reason" you were in awe of how well he knew you and you smiled "It's true. I had to do it for you, for us" you confessed "For us? Well, I appreciate the thought princess but I don't think the two of us can live in such a huge castle. Not to mention that there are humans in the village who fear me, who knows how they will react when they discover that their princess has exterminated everyone" you kept a straight posture while the sunset was the most beautiful vision that nature had ever created "Don't worry of this. I will show the people of this village that your kind is not all as bad as they think, and that vampires can be good. You know, I don't mind hosting your trusted friends at the castle, as long as they behave properly" Eddie let out a chuckle "How kind for someone who has just committed mass murder, I love you every day that passes princess” he smirked and you blushed.

"In any case, I'll try to study the castle later. Back when Lilith ruled here I was minding my own business in the Black Forest" you approached looking at his chocolate brown eyes "I'm sure you will, otherwise how will you manage to get care of us if you don't even know where to go in the castle?” the vampire's face became confused "Us?" his smile widened showing him your hand on your belly “Seriously?” Eddie didn't seem to realize it yet "Yes Eds" the vampire smiled showing his fangs "Oh princess" he said happily kissing you passionately. You reciprocated hoping that kiss would never end.

This was everything you wanted. A beautiful life in the company of the man you loved. The life you had created for yourself would be turbulent and certainly taking care of your mother while trying to make her see reality would be difficult, same thing with the village, but you were ready. You would have faced the worst storms for your love and your future child. This was your happily ever after.

[protectingrose]

Oooooo ..the drama !🫢😱 .

Cant wait for the next update ♥️

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 9

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Next chapter: 10/18

Word Count: 6.8K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

The sound of the horn honking outside had you grabbing your purse and racing outside. There was a pleasant buzz of excitement and anticipation running along your skin, little currents of delight lighting up every nerve ending. Not only did you have plans, not only were you getting out of the house with friends, but you also hadn’t been roller skating in a long time and you used to love it. 

Almost every Saturday night in high school, you and your friends could be found at Roller Stop, the local rink in your hometown. It had been the most fun thing to do in Galena. Of course, it had also been one of the only things to do besides go to the library or get high in the woods. If you were really ballsy, you might try to sneak into the only bar in town but old Larry who owned the place knew everyone. Too small of a town to try to fool anyone that you were older than you were. 

But you could remember with perfect clarity the thrill and pure joy of flying around the rink, Madonna or Wham! blaring loudly overhead. Drinking Coke and getting nachos covered in plastic cheese from the concession stands. You and your friends spinning in circles under the flashing neon lights, laughing. You and Cam holding hands, skating slowly together when your song, the song Cam had decided was yours anyway, ‘Can’t Fight This Feeling’ came on. He’d told you it was perfect because that described him the moment you’d walked in the door of the cafeteria. You had come into his life and he couldn’t fight how he felt from the moment he saw you. What a crock of garbage that turned out to be.

No. You shut that particular trip down memory lane behind a door, locked it, and tossed the key over your shoulder. No more Cam memories. You weren't going there. Mistakes had been made. Lessons had been learned. You had promised yourself that you wouldn’t dwell on what you had no control over anymore. You would use the opportunity to better yourself, to become smarter about your life choices. Now it was time for new friendships and experiences, a whole world of possibilities, a chance to take those lessons and start over. You would make the most of any opportunity this second chapter of your life decided to bring along. 

You waved to Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin as you approached the car. You had decided comfort was the way to go for skating so you’d worn jeans, your yellow Kiss tee, and a black jean jacket. Layers were also the way to go right now because winter was not quite ready to let go, still bringing a biting chill to the evening air. But you figured if you got too warm skating, you could always lose the jacket. Better safe than sorry, especially when you were almost always cold.

You slid in next to Robin who offered you a great big smile as if she was just thrilled that you were tagging along as everyone said their hellos. Max had not been kidding when she’d told you that her friends would be welcoming. You had never met a warmer, more friendly group of people in your life. Most people were wary of outsiders, hesitant to let someone new in once the group had been formed. But, besides the secrets they were very clearly keeping, they were more than happy to fold you right into their group even though they’d all known each other for at least a decade. 

And while you were willing to set it to the side for tonight, those secrets had not been forgotten. They continued to tap annoyingly at your brain, demanding answers. You hadn’t given up on that particular task. You were determined to find the truth, to get to the bottom of those accusations, those haunted looks you saw passed over their eyes when the past was mentioned. You were like a bloodhound and now that you had been given the scent, you wouldn’t rest until you found the source. But for tonight, you were going to let it sit in the back of your mind. Tonight you were just going to have fun with everyone. 

“Any more issues at school? Any more shocking revelations delivered from tiny people?” Nancy asked carefully, her tone and the way her eyes darted over to Jonathan quickly, conveying far more than her words. She was checking in, making sure that you weren't still digging for answers that none of them wanted you to find. It only made you even more determined to figure out what they were so desperate to hide.

“No. Today was fine,” you answered simply, not wanting to raise Nancy’s suspicions, offering her a small smile as Nancy turned to look at you. “I have a meeting with Lance and Charlie’s parents next week to try to get to the bottom of this bullying issue. I have to say, I am not looking forward to it. Mr. Johnson is not the most pleasant man.”

“No, he’s definitely not,” Robin muttered next to you, fingers pulling at the frayed material of her jeans on her thigh. “He was one of the biggest bullies in school. He was Jason’s little guard dog. His favorite thing was throwing people into lockers or giving freshman swirlies in the bathroom. He lorded his status as one of King Jason’s court over everyone. I am guessing he hasn’t changed much.”

“Doesn’t seem like he has. According to Lance, he treats Charlie the way he does because his dad tells him that’s what he should do,” you spat with disgust. “I can’t imagine teaching my child to be cruel. Who would want their kid to be a bully?”

“Another bully,” Jonthan snorted. “Andy prides himself on his cruelty. I am sure he’s gloating that his son is a chip off the old nasty block.”

“Yeah. Rumor around town is that his wife has been seen sporting a black eye once or twice,” Nancy added with a grimace. “And she’s had a couple unexplained emergency room visits. She won’t say anything so no one’s ever been able to confirm it but the whole town knows what’s happening.”

“Jesus,” you breathed, even more anxious about this meeting now. 

If everything they were saying was true, this guy wasn’t going to get the message no matter what you said. He might even get hostile. That thought instantly formed a knot within you, twisting painfully, fear for yourself or for Charlie’s parents. You might have to ask Principal Washington to sit in just to make sure everybody stayed calm, the conversation didn’t escalate, and to have an extra pair of eyes on the situation. 

Worse than that, it made you wonder about Lance. Could his cruelty be coming from a place of anger, anger that his father caused by bullying him? You’d never noticed any marks on him before but, in your experience, that didn’t always mean anything. Abusers knew how to hit where it didn’t leave marks. You were going to need to be more observant with Lance. Sometimes it might show itself in a wince while they were climbing on the playground equipment or a cringe while they were changing into their gym shoes. That bastard. It took a real asshole to feel big about beating on people who couldn’t possibly defend themselves.

Jonathan pulled into the rink, a sound of surprise emitting from him as he parked the car, “I’ll be damned. I never thought I’d see the day. Who convinced Munson to skate?”

You glanced over eagerly, your head turning so fast that a sharp jolt shot up the back of your neck to the base of your head. You spotted the van, Eddie casually leaning against it. He was dressed in black jeans and a dark gray tee that was fitted enough for you to make out the lean lines of his chest and shoulders. One Reebok was propped over the other, those dark waves concealing his face as he brought a cigarette to his lips. His big chunky rings caught the sun, shimmering in the light. A pleasant buzz swirled through your head and straight down your body at the mere sight of him, knowing he’d actually come and just because you’d asked. Until this moment, you weren't sure if he’d really show.

“I did,” you admitted softly. 

All three heads shot toward you, shock written all over their faces. You shrank back a bit, feeling as if you’d done something wrong by inviting him. You’d just thought it was odd, all his friends going to do something, and him not. If it was just because he couldn’t skate, you were more than happy to help him so he could be included. At least, that was the reason you would stick with if anyone asked you.

“Sorry. Should I…not have asked him?” you asked hesitantly. “I just thought he’d be missing out on the fun.”

“No, it’s fine. Really,” Nancy assured, shaking her head, “but he’s never gone roller skating with us before. He hates skating. I guess he had a bad spill when he was a kid and he never got on them again. We’ve stopped inviting him because he swore the Earth would stop turning before he would ever strap on a pair of roller skates. I’m just surprised you could convince him.”

“Yeah…how did you do it exactly?” Robin queried. 

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I didn’t do anything special. I mean, I just asked him to come? He said he wouldn’t come because he couldn’t skate so I told him I would help him.”

Nancy’s eyebrows almost met her hairline, her mouth forming a little ‘o’ before curving amusedly, “You just asked him and he agreed. Ahh…I see.”

“You see what?” you demanded.

“Nothing,” Nancy exclaimed loudly, shaking her head. “Absolutely nothing.” Her and Robin shared a look that had you turning bright red. “Come on! Let’s go skate!”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to see Munson trying to Bambi around on some roller skates,” Jonathan guffawed.

As the car doors slammed shut, Eddie looked up from the pavement. His eyes met yours, his mouth pursed a bit, the sides curving just slightly as if he were happy to see you but you didn’t let yourself get your hopes up. There was a good chance you were just seeing what you wanted to see. You seemed to do that a lot where he was concerned. The man was just so damn hard to read. Still, it didn’t stop those butterflies from breaking loose, fluttering around, leaving you grasping for the breath you suddenly couldn’t seem to find. 

Your face paled as you really looked him over, your eyes tracking over every inch of him. His neck was not the only thing that was scarred. Your eyes moved down his arms, taking in the pale jagged marks that covered his biceps just peeking out from under the gray cotton. Another was on his forearm. There was even one on his wrist that you couldn’t believe you hadn’t noticed before. Those raccoons had been seriously vicious. You blinked, looking back up at him, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way you’d been examining him.

“You came,” you commented as you approached him. 

Eddie pushed off the van, his shoulder lifting, “I told you I would, didn’t I?”

“Yeah but I still wasn’t sure if you would actually show up,” you admitted, teeth worrying over your lip, your eyes looking just past him. “I thought maybe you were just placating me so I’d shut up.”

“Sweetheart, I might be a lot of things, but a liar is not one of them. If I say I will do something, I’m going to do it,” he replied. “Just remember any medical bills are on you.”

You laughed, “I know, I know. No worries.” Sam brought her eyes up to meet his, swallowing hard. “I’ve got you.”

The sound of a car horn honking over and over again obnoxiously had you all turning to see Steve’s Jeep Cherokee flying into the lot. Dustin was hanging out of the window on one side, Max the other, waving and laughing as he slid into a spot right next to Jonathan. The doors opened and far more people than could have possibly fit comfortably came tumbling out. 

“Shouldn’t a lawman be more careful?” you mused, folding your arms, one eyebrow raising in question. “There is no way all of those people were wearing seatbelts, Officer Harrington.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Yeah, well, if someone else would be the taxi driver for all these kids sometimes then it wouldn’t be an issue. Somehow, it always winds up being me who has to do the babysitting.”

“Babysitting?” Max snickered, shaking her head. “I’m twenty-four, idiot. Well past the age of requiring a babysitter anymore.”

“Also well past the age of needing someone else to tote you around. You all have cars and licenses now. Why couldn’t one of you chuckleheads drive?” demanded Steve.

“Because now I can partake in a few adult beverages since you’re my DD,” Dustin explained, his arm coming around Steve who instantly shrugged him off. “Damn. Stop being such a grouch. You always act like you’re annoyed to be saddled with us but we all know you love it, Dad.”

“Hey,” he warned, pointing a finger in Dustin’s face. “I told you to stop calling me that. I am not your dad. I’m not any of your dads. I was like six when you were all born.”

“Daddy, can I get a milkshake, please?” teased Max, sliding up next to him, laying her head against his arm. 

“Ohh! And can I get a slurpee?” El joined in, slipping up on his other side. 

“And nachos!” added Lucas, his hands in prayer in front of him as he batted his eyelashes. “We’ve all been good. Can’t we have a treat?”

You watched as Steve rolled his eyes again but the smile on his face gave him away. He clearly had a soft spot for them whether he wanted to admit it or not. Shaking his head, he waved his arm and began walking with purpose toward the skating rink. 

“Come on. Let’s go skate already. And you all have jobs and adult money now. Buy your own damn snacks.”

___________________________________________________________

You laced up your skates as Eddie examined his own, turning them side to side, with a look of utter disdain and suspicion. You had to tuck your lips in to hide your amusement, not understanding why he’d let you talk him into this if the very idea caused him to make that face, a face that looked like someone had just stolen his parking spot at the grocery store. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this just because I asked you to,” you told him. “I won’t be mad if you bail. Your friends couldn’t believe you agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe I agreed to this. I should know better,” Eddie huffed as he laced up his skates. “It’s like when my Uncle Wayne always told me not to play with fire but I thought he was just being a responsible parent. I lit one of his road flares and burned the shit out of my hand. I had to have this huge wrap on it for weeks until the burns healed and it hurt like hell. I couldn’t play my guitar for weeks. He said it was just natural consequences. I can hear him right now, ‘Kid, what the hell do you think you’re doing trying to balance on roller skates? It took you two summers to learn how to ride a damn bike.’ I’m telling you, this might look like fun to you but it is going to end in a broken bone or a concussion.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, it’s just roller skating. People have been doing it for years. I haven’t heard of any horrific deaths or terrible traumas that required an airlift at the roller rink. I think you’re going to survive.” You stood up and offered him your hands. “Come on. I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

“Oh, you’re going to protect me, are you?” he asked, the little smirk that appeared on his face, those plush lips twisting up on the side, his eyes all soft and gooey like melty chocolate, caused a not unpleasant twinge in your center. 

“Yep. I’m your knight in shining armor that is going to keep you on your feet. I promise I won’t let you fall. Now come on, you grouchy metalhead. Let’s get you up on those skates.”

Eddie groaned but he took your hands. The minute he rose up, the skates slid backwards and then as he overcorrected they slid forward on him, his body rocking. His eyes grew as wide as saucers but you kept a tight grip on his hands until he steadied himself. Jesus, if he fell the minute he stood up, he’d never let you hear the end of it. 

“Jesus H. Christ,” he muttered, the muscles around his eyes and mouth tense, his eyes losing the softness she’d enjoyed just a moment ago. “This is such a bad fucking idea.”

“You’ve got this,” you insisted, slowly rolling backward toward the rink as he hesitantly stepped forward awkwardly, squeezing your hands so hard you winced, but you stayed quiet about it. “Stop walking. Skate, Eddie. Find your balance. Lean forward slightly and keep your weight on your toes and the balls of your feet.”

“What the hell are the balls of my feet? Last I checked, I only had two balls and they are definitely not in my damn feet.”

“Jesus, are you always this dramatic?”

“Yes!” he huffed. “Especially when it could involve breaking an arm. You know I need those, right? Kind of hard to work on cars or play guitar without them. My very livelihood depends on me being able to have the use of my arms.”

“Alright. The balls of your feet are right under your toes. So just try to keep your weight toward the front of your foot,” you explained patiently as you made it out onto the rink finally. “Then extend your leg behind you while pushing off the ground with your other leg. Then you just switch. It’s really just that simple. Just keep moving and keep your balance.”

“Maybe it’s simple for you,” mumbled Eddie, his eyes focused on his feet. 

You stifled back a laugh when his tongue slid between his lips as if he needed it to focus. He looked like a kindergartener who was determined to learn how to tie his shoes. But slowly he began to skate. He wasn’t moving very fast but he was moving and that was progress. It was more than you’d expected when he started whining.

“There you go,” you praised loudly, grinning from ear to ear. “Look at you! You’re doing it!”

Eddie’s eyebrows lifted as he raised his head to stare at you, “Did you just use your teacher voice on me? You know I’m not one of your third graders, right?”

You cringed, squeezing your eyes shut tight for a moment. Shit. Cam always hated when you did that. He’d yell at you that he wasn’t a child and he didn’t appreciate being spoken to like one. To be fair, if he didn’t act like a giant eight year old most of the time then maybe you wouldn’t use the voice as often as you did. 

“Sorry, force of habit,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean anything by it, seriously. It’s a really bad habit that I need to break. My husb…” You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. “I mean, my ex-husband hated it. Still getting used to that word. Anyway, he went off on me for it all the time. You’d think I’d have learned to not do it by now.”

Eddie’s eyes softened again, sweet chocolate melting between her fingers on a hot summer day, all gooey and delicious, slipping into all the crevices within you. And all of a sudden, you knew exactly what Millie meant when she said everyone needed more sweet in their life because it was right in front of you. His lips pouted out for a moment and then he shrugged slightly, that beautiful smile that was like a bright ray of sunshine peeking through the clouds appearing once again. 

“No big deal. I just thought it was funny. I mean, I have the maturity of a third grader, if you believe my Uncle or any of these idiots here tonight. So, I probably could use a dose of teacher voice sometimes. I know the sound of it quite well. Hell, I probably should have listened to it all the times it was used on me in school. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to repeat my senior year twice.”

“You repeated twice?”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed, “Yeah. Didn’t get it the first time or even the second time. Didn’t graduate until I was twenty and even then, they only gave me my diploma because they felt guilty for accusing me of being a murderer. I think they were also more than ready to be done with me. Trust me, Hawkins High didn’t want another year of Eddie the Freak Munson. I was fucking twenty before I graduated. Absolutely pathetic.” He sighed, pressing his lips together, his eyes focused on his feet as he kept slowly moving forward as you skated backward. “School was always a problem for me. I just wasn’t smart enough to get it.”

“I don’t believe that,” you argued, shaking your head. “I’m guessing your teachers just didn’t take the time to figure out how you learn best or what you needed.”

“Isn’t that just another way of saying I’m dumb? I can’t learn like normal people.”

“No,” you stated. “That’s not what it says. There is no such thing as normal, Eddie. All of our brains work differently. I have kids who need all kinds of different things in order to learn. One student needs to stand while they work in order to focus because their feet need to be moving. Another student can’t handle the fluorescent lights on because of the noise they make so I use lamps instead. I also incorporate a lot of movement breaks so kids can get up and move around. Back when we were in school everyone was expected to sit in their seat all day and focus and that’s not sustainable even for an adult.”

“Huh…I never thought about it like that. But yeah, I was always in trouble for getting out of my seat or talking when I shouldn’t be, not getting my work done. But it was so hard to focus for that long. I would have loved the chance to get up and move. You know, I bet you’re a pretty damn good teacher,” Eddie commented with a soft grin, his eyes glancing up at yours for just a moment before focusing on his skates again.

You returned his smile, “I hope I am. I try to be anyway. You want to try to go a little faster?”

“Uh…no, nope, absolutely not,” he stated adamantly. “I feel pretty okay with the speed I am going right now. Call me the tortoise. Slow and steady and all that shit. I go any faster and I will end up on my ass and honestly, I do not need Henderson or Harrington giving me shit for the rest of my life because I fell down at the roller rink while a pretty girl was holding my hands.”

Dizziness threatened to send you to the ground as you registered his words. You held onto his hands tightly, knowing if you went down then you were taking him with you. It felt like all the butterflies in the world were suddenly in your stomach trying to break free. Your face heated, your heart skipped, and you desperately tried to pull in some much needed air. Oxygen suddenly felt in short supply. 

“You think I’m pretty?” you asked quietly.

“Oh…uh…” Eddie’s face went fire-engine red and he became very interested in his feet once again. Was he embarrassed or was he wishing he never would have said it? “Sorry. I mean…no, I’m not sorry. I mean, you are pretty. I’m not saying you’re not pretty. I just maybe shouldn’t have said it? I mean…shit.” 

He pulled his hands out of yours, bringing them to his forehead in frustration and at that moment his feet slid out from under him. It was like watching a horrifying cartoon. You saw what was happening but could do nothing to stop it. His arms flailed wildly in slow motion as his skates went back and forth. His torso folded forward and back as he tried desperately to stay upright. You reached for him just as his feet slid out from under him, he went airborne and landed right on his back. 

“Oh my god!” you shrieked, dropping down next to him. “Eddie…hey, are you okay?”

“Son of a bitch!” he growled, wincing. 

“I’m so sorry. I told you I wouldn’t let you fall and then…”

“It’s fine!” Eddie snapped. You reached to take his hands but he waved you off. “I’m fine!” He sat up slowly, groaning, his hand coming to the back of his head. 

“Are you sure? Is your head okay? Here. Let me feel and see if there’s a bump or anything.”

As you reached for him, he grabbed your hand and shoved it away. You fell back onto your ass, confused and hurt as to his sudden change of mood. Yeah, he’d fallen and you told him you wouldn’t let him but he’d been the one to let go of your hand and you were just trying to help, to make sure he wasn’t concussed or something. 

Eddie rolled over onto his knees, placing his hands flat on the wooden floor of the rink. He tried to push himself up but the skates made it challenging, especially for someone who didn’t have much experience with them. He tried again, spreading his legs wide and they slid out, him coming down on his ass again. You didn’t move, scared he would just yell at you again. Eddie let out a roar of frustration just as Dustin and Jonathan came skating over. 

“Great…just fucking great,” he huffed, his eyes rolling skyward. 

“Hey man, you alright?” asked Jonathan.

“You need some help there, buddy?” Dustin offered, holding his hand out.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Eddie grumbled, slapping his friend’s hand away. “I’m fine!”

“It doesn’t look like you’re fine,” Dustin countered, hands coming to rest on his hips as he looked down at his friend who was acting like a giant baby. “It looks like you’re stuck on the floor of the rink and if you don’t want to get your fingers run over by somebody then stop being so stubborn and take my damn hand.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed, that muscle in his jaw clenching, that tendon in his neck bulging, highlighting the pale scar that laid there, but he took the offered hands of Dustin and Jonathan and let them help him to his feet. It was awkward, both guys pulling as Eddie struggled on wheels. Once he was back up, he grabbed onto the wall, holding it as he walked, hand over hand, to get off the roller rink and back on the carpet. 

You followed, guilt coursing through you at the thought that you’d been the one to ruin his night once again. You followed him to the table where he sat down, immediately pulling off his skates, throwing them down angrily so they bounced off the garish carpet. Disappointment flooded you, knowing the fun had obviously been ruined for him and in turn you as well. There was no way you were going to get him back out there now. Just when you’d thought you’d turned a corner, you were right back where you started, cold hard eyes glaring at you just like that first night.

“Eddie, are you sure you’re okay?” you inquired carefully.

“Jesus, are you deaf or something? I told you I’m fine. I’m just done rolling around on these fucking death traps on wheels, okay?”

“Okay. Do you want me to sit with you?” you offered, hoping to remedy whatever the hell had just caused angry asshole Eddie to return. “I could get us some snacks…”

“Jesus Fuck! Do you ever let up? I don’t need your pity just because I’m a klutz!” he growled.

“Hey!” You turned to see Steve, standing at the wall, his stomach pressing over the top, skates in the air behind him. He waved you over with a wide smile. “Come on! Don’t tell me you’re quitting on us too! I heard you’re a pretty damn good skater. Stop giving lessons to Munson and come show me. You’re off the clock, you know? Teacher time is over.”

“I…” you paused, looking down at Eddie, not wanting to leave him to sit and sulk all alone when you’d been the one that convinced him to come. But he was being such an asshole. Yeah, he’d fallen but it had been his own damn fault and he was being nasty to you like you’d shoved him on his ass or something. 

“Why are you looking at me, Prom Queen?” he snorted. “Your King is beckoning. Go do your thing. I already told you. I’m fine. I don’t need your goddamn pity, okay?”

And there it was. Just like that you were Prom Queen again. Not sweetheart or princess or even just your name. Here you were again, your head spinning, your neck aching from the whiplash you kept getting from his insane mood swings. Just when you thought you were having a good time together, he suddenly became all surly again. He told you that you were pretty and then he told you to leave him alone. He came because you asked and then he acted like you’d forced him to come. He was sweet and soft and then suddenly nasty and hard.

What in the hell were you doing? Why were you trying so hard to get this guy to like you when he clearly didn’t? And why the hell did you care so damn much what he thought of you anyway? Sure, he was gorgeous and yeah, there was something about him that had you thinking about him at the most inopportune of times, but that didn’t detract from the fact that he was a giant dickhead. What did it say about you if you just kept trying the same thing to only get the same result? You had sworn you wouldn’t let yourself make dumb decisions anymore and yet, here you were, possibly making the dumbest decision of your entire life.

“You know what, Eddie? I really don’t need this shit. I am so sick of your Jekkyl and Hyde routine,” you snapped, all the anger that had been building up from the moment you met finally exploding from your body. “I have not done a goddamn thing to deserve the vitriol you keep spitting my way. I keep trying to be nice to you, to get you to like me or hell even tolerate me, and I don’t know why I bother! Maybe because I like your friends and I want to keep hanging out with everyone and I know that would be easier if we could at least get along. I don’t want things to be awkward but I am so fucking sick of working so goddamn hard when you are so deadset on hating me. So, you want to sit here and feel all sorry for yourself, fine, but I’m going to have the fun I planned on before I invited you tonight and you fucking ruined it!”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. He looked stunned and damn, he wasn’t saying anything back. No snappy retort. No shitty little comment. He just sat, staring at you, dumbfounded. He was actually speechless. You didn’t think he was capable of that but you found you really didn’t care. Not wanting to give him the chance to collect himself and find words, you quickly made your way back to the rink. 

“That looked tense. What the hell was that all about?” Steve questioned as he hopped down from the wall and skated alongside you. “You and Munson not getting along?”

“Have we ever?” you groaned, your legs sweeping long in an attempt to match Steve’s strides. “I seriously don’t know what his problem is. He’s been an asshole to me ever since that night at the bonfire.” You paused, realizing that was a lie. “No, that’s not entirely true. He’s also been nice. Well, Eddie’s level of nice I suppose. I mean, he showed up at my work out of nowhere and took me to his uncle’s trailer to look at his car because he knew I needed one. He even offered to do the manual labor for free if I paid for the parts to get it all fixed up. But then he got all shitty with me when we got to the trailer park, assuming I was judging him for his childhood. Then tonight he agreed to come skating and everything was going fine and then he fell and he’s being an asshole again. He runs so damn hot and cold and I keep getting burned or frozen and I am just sick of it. Why is he such a jerk?”

Steve’s hand grabbed onto yours, slowing your movement as he led you to the edge of the rink and out of everyone’s way. Dustin stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes as he came skating by. Lucas waved wildly as Max held up both middle fingers and Steve returned her gesture, shaking his head, looking as exasperated as a mother who was beyond done with her child’s antics. 

“Alright, look…Eddie’s been through a lot of shit, okay?” Steve pressed his lips together, his hand running over his mouth. “I don’t know if I should tell you all this. He might get pissed that I’m telling his shit but here’s the thing. His dad went to prison and his mom OD’d when he was just a kid. His Uncle Wayne took him in and raised him. The man is a damn saint, just a really good fucking guy. But this whole town treated Eddie like shit because he was the ex-con’s kid and the trailer park trash and the freak with long hair who listened to the devil’s music and ran a satanic cult. None of that is true by the way. Well, most of it actually is but he didn’t run a cult. It was just a nerdy gaming group. I never got into it but anyway…there were a string of murders a while back and…”

“Yeah. I know all of that,” you admitted, looking up at him. “Eddie was accused of them.”

Steve looked taken aback, clearly surprised that you were already a bit ahead of him, “Okay. Not sure if I want to know how you know all that…”

“I have Andy’s kid in my class.”

“Ahh…that makes sense. Of course that asshole would tell his kid a bunch of lies and have him spouting them. Anyway, the whole town was ready to string up Eddie and burn him at the stake even though there was no evidence pointing to him. They were ready to hunt him down. They had a town hall meeting and people in town were out with baseball bats and tire irons looking for him. It was ugly. His name might have been cleared but he’s never forgotten how it felt to have everyone turn on him, to assume he was capable of something so horrible, to be willing to hurt him or worse because they were that convinced. He still sometimes gets shit for it, not nearly what it used to be because Hopper set a lot of those people straight but it’s hard for him.”

“I get that. I do. And I’m sorry he went through all of that. I can’t even imagine what his life has been like and I hate that people were so awful to him, especially after everything else he’d been through. Even if he can be an asshole, I could never think he would be capable of murder but that still doesn’t explain why he’s being such a dick to me. I haven’t accused him of anything.”

“No, but he likes you,” Steve stated, tilting his head with a knowing smile. 

“What are you talking about? He hates me,” you argued. Was Steve crazy? Had he not seen what had just occurred, not moments ago?

“He doesn’t hate you. He hates what you could mean. He hates what you make him feel. He hates what could happen if he actually lets someone in past all that armor he’s built up around himself this past decade. You see, Eddie hasn’t dated anyone.” Steve’s nose crinkled, his mouth pursed as he held his hand and wiggled it from side to side. “He’s gone out with women. He’s slept with a fair few over the years but he has not had a real relationship maybe ever. He doesn’t trust anyone to allow them to get close enough.”

“Whoa,” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in front of you as if you could shield yourself from Steve’s words. “Be kind. Please rewind. How in the hell did we go from talking about why he’s so mean to me to talking about relationships? I appreciate you talking to me about this, trying to help me understand, but I really think you’re wrong. There is nothing about him that makes me think he even likes my company, let alone likes me, let alone would want to date me. If he does, he is doing a hell of a job hiding it.”

“Of course he is. That’s what Munson is an expert at these days, burying any pesky feelings deep down and locking them up so they never see the light of day. Heaven forbid he feels an ounce of happiness or joy because he assumes the minute he does, it will get snatched from him. He doesn’t believe he deserves it. He doesn’t believe the universe will ever allow him to have it.” Steve sighed. “Look, he’s like a dog. His aggression is really just masking his fear. He’s all bark and no bite anyway. I am telling you, under all that mess of hair and denim and leather and surliness, he is really just a little boy who is needing someone to love him. The question is, are you brave enough to try?”

You were momentarily stunned. You couldn’t believe the words you were hearing. Your mind was racing, eyes wide, your mouth hung open as you struggled to take in what he was asking you. You felt like you were in a different world where you didn’t know the language or customs and nothing was making any sense. Up was down and right was left and off was on and in was out. What in the hell was he talking about? Love? You barely even knew Eddie. You couldn’t even get him to have a civil conversation half the time. 

“What?” you finally shot out, your brain finally firing on all cylinders again. Your hands came to your hips as you gaped at Steve. “We barely know each other, Steve. Why are you talking about love?”

Steve shrugged as he began to skate backwards, “When you know, you know, right? Why do you think I stopped using my charms on you? We all know. Now you two just need to figure it out.”

When you know, you know? You felt like you didn’t know anything as you watched Steve skate away from you. This town and its dark past, these people and all their goddamn secrets and cryptic words, that damn metalhead and his temperamental attitude. You didn’t know a goddamn thing and you certainly didn’t know anything about love. Your failed marriage was more than proof of that. If you did, you wouldn’t be standing here right now, you wouldn’t have met any of them, and you never would have laid eyes on Eddie Munson. And at the moment, you were kind of wishing that was the case. 

Taglist

@tlclick73 @bebe07011 @eddiesguitarskills @witchwolflea @nailbatanddungeon @emilyslutface @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @corrodedcoffincumslut @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @katethetank

[protectingrose]

♥️This story .. was amazing! I’ve personally read the book (never saw the movie yet ) and reading this made me feel like I just read the book again.

Total Word Count: 44,570 Eddie Munson x Reader

What do you hunger for? A Bones and All AU.

Warnings: canon typical violence/gore, swearing, abusive parents, animal farming/slaughterhouse setting (1 scene only); psychiatric hospital setting (1 scene only); discussion of religion; suicidal ideation/thoughts; murder; no beta; updated each chapter

Chapters:

Chapter 1: Copper Fever 2453 words What do you hunger for?

Chapter 2: Cowboy Cook 2917 words Enter: Eddie.

Chapter 3: The Shire 2785 words Bacon breakfast and you're on the road.

Chapter 4: Hawkins, Indiana 5226 words He's not a hometown hero, but he might just be yours.

Chapter 5: Puppet Master 2628 words It's called sexual cannibalism.

Chapter 6: The Carnival 2383 words Romance. Blood. Guest appearance by Steve.

Chapter 7: Baking Cookies 3294 words It's a family reunion.

Chapter 8: Another Letter 2606 words Someone's waiting for you at Independence State Hospital.

Chapter 9: Set Free 2375 words Canines and carnage.

Chapter 10: Counting Numbers 2822 words You walk a lonely road.

Chapter 11: A Gentlemen 2822 words (again) Welcome (back) to Hawkins.

Chapter 12: Saturn's Knife 1461 words The short and sharp story of where Eddie’s dad is and how he got his scars. 

Chapter 13: Leonard Cohen 3358 words Oh, to be in love.

Chapter 14: Eat Me 4390 words It's time to eat.

Chapter 15: Digestive Tract 3048 words The aftermath.

[protectingrose]

I literally was on the edge of my seat reading this !!

I was so upset when it ended 😭 . You should make this into a short series ♥️♥️

you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down. 

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery. 

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.” 

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later. 

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head. 

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere. 

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.” 

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?” 

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?” 

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.” 

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?” 

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?” 

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow. 

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on. 

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you. 

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before. 

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears. 

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough. 

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.” 

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.” 

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.” 

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.” 

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly. 

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spit. 

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.” 

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death. 

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.” 

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily. 

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.” 

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.” 

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.” 

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper. 

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge. 

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.” 

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.” 

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat. 

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes. 

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story. 

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you. 

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…” 

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[protectingrose]

I’m so excited for me chapters! . Also you’re doing an amazing job♥️

the devil i know

series masterlist

♫ series playlist ♫ series tag

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: To summon a demon at a crossroads, simply cast a circle, make an offering, and recite an incantation. What happens from that point on is subject to your desire... and the demon's.

In which the reader makes a pact with Eddie, a crossroads demon, for power and protection. He takes it a little too seriously.

cw: explicit, smut, dubcon elements, monsterfucking!!, making a deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, way more plot than you'd expect, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, demonic possession, murder, there are MANY minor character deaths, animal death, trauma, depictions of physical and emotional abuse, graphic depictions of violence, bullying/harassment, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, dark comedy, tfw your accidental boyfriend is a demon who is obsessed with you bc he doesn't know how to be normal about anything ever, dead dove: do not eat

please check individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

ONE: GOD, YOU'VE GOT THE BLACKEST EYES

TWO: LOOK HERE ALL YOU WANT (10/03)

THREE: I SMOKE OUT YOUR DARKEST SIDE (10/06)

FOUR: CAN'T TURN WATER INTO WINE, NEVER ASKED YOU TO (10/10)

FIVE: SO IS IT YOUR PLACE OR MINE? (10/13)

SIX: I DON'T NEED TO FEEL THE SUN, LET ME TOUCH YOUR SKIN (10/17)

SEVEN: FILL MY MIND WITH DIRTINESS, I'LL INVADE YOUR DREAMS (10/20)

EIGHT: BACK IN HELL AT LEAST I'M COMFORTABLE (10/24)

NINE: NEED YOUR BODY WHEN MY FIRE'S COLD (10/27)

TEN: I'M GONNA STAY FAITHFUL TO THE DEVIL I KNOW (10/31)

[protectingrose]

👩🏻‍🍳💋 . This is my first ever “post” , so I thought might as well show what I look like .

[protectingrose]

I literally want to scream! . This book is making me feel all types of emotions and … I’m completely hooked on it ♥️ ♥️♥️. Cant wait for more chapters !

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 5

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Next chapter: 09/27

Word Count: 5.8K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4

You had not had time for a full shower with the two girls waiting on you so you’d simply freshened up a bit. You washed your hands and face, reapplied your deodorant, added some blush and mascara, brushed out your hair, and changed clothes. Your favorite gray cardigan covered your arms over an olive green ribbed tank. Bending forward, you cuffed up the bottom of your jeans and then pulled on your Converse before bouncing back down the steps and onto the porch where Robin and Nancy sat waiting, just like they said they would.

“Damn, that was fast,” Robin commented, looking you over. “You clean up nice Prom Queen.”

“Ugh, not you too,” you grumbled, grabbing your purse and keys from the hook by the door, locking the door behind you and following the two girls to Nancy’s car. “You know, I am not a fan of that nickname. I have not been  a Prom Queen in almost thirteen years and believe it or not, that is not some great accomplishment in my life. I only got it because I was dating the most popular guy in school.”

“Sorry, it’s just so weird for me,” Robin explained, sliding into the passenger seat as you hopped into the back. “A girl like me hanging out with a former Prom Queen goes against the most basic laws of nature. I was different and one of the most awkward people ever. We never would have been friends in high school.”

“That’s not true,” you argued as Nancy turned the corner and pulled up in front of her house. She hadn’t been kidding. They were right around the corner. You would be able to walk home and not have to bother anyone for a ride. You really needed to look into a car this week so you wouldn’t need to bum rides off your new friends as you shopped for supplies to get your house together. “I wasn’t a mean girl and it’s all just stupid titles anyway. What does any of that matter in the scheme of things? Being Prom Queen never did me any good in life. Look at me. Thirty, divorced, starting over in a whole new town in a whole new job. All that high school bullshit and status doesn’t actually mean anything in the long run.”

“Maybe not now,” Robin sang, stepping out and closing the car door behind her with a dramatic flourish, “but it mattered a hell of a lot then. I was a band geek. Steve Harrington was definitely not my friend in high school. We didn’t become friends until after he graduated. There was no way we would have been friends then. Hell, he didn’t even know who I was. When we got taken by…Scoops Ahoy. I mean, when they hired us for a job, I asked him about a class we had together and he could not remember me even being in that class.”

“But you’re friends with Nancy and, come on,” you huffed, gesturing to her, Robin’s little slip not lost on you. Taken by? Who referred to getting hired as being taken by a place of employment? “You can’t tell me you weren’t one of the popular crowd.”

“Me?” Nancy snorted, shaking her head. “Not even close. I was kind of a nerd myself. I was on the school paper and the debate team. I was very studious. I didn’t really party. That’s why it was so shocking when the King of Hawkins High actually wanted to date me. And Robin and I didn’t become friends until she started working with Steve. She was two years behind him in school and a year behind me. I didn’t even know who she was, honestly.”

Robin shrugged, “It’s true. Oh, I knew who she was, though. Everyone knew who Nancy Wheeler was once Steve Harrington pulled her into his little crowd of the rich and the popular. She became famous by association.”

“Shut up,” Nancy huffed, rolling her eyes as she pushed open the front door. 

“Steve’s rich?” you asked, not caring but not having gotten that vibe off him at all. And who became a cop in a small town if they had money already? You’d never had the impression that cops made much more money than teachers, and you knew what you made and it wasn’t exactly impressive. 

“Why Prom Queen? You looking for a sugar daddy? I’d offer but fixing cars ain’t paying much. I couldn’t keep you in the lap of luxury you’re obviously so used to.”

Your annoyance was instant and intense at the sound of that voice and the words that it uttered. You’d been having such a nice Sunday and now you were forced to be in his presence. Why hadn’t you figured he would be here? Nancy had said Jonathan’s friends were coming over and of course it included him. You stood there, rigid, trying to shake off the unwanted anger and frustration at him merely having the nerve to exist, to breathe the same air as you, sitting on that loveseat, smugly smiling, his eyes focused on you and dancing with amusement as he lifted a beer bottle to his lips. 

“Oh, really? That’s too bad. With that glowing personality and unrivaled charisma, I was so hoping for an offer from you,” you sneered sarcastically. “Honestly, I’d rather throw myself off a damn cliff. Shattering every bone in my body sounds far more pleasant.”

“Damn,” Jonathan muttered with a chuckle, “breaking her bones over going out with you? That’s harsh. I mean, ouch. What the hell did you do to her when you drove her home last night?”

“Not a goddamn thing. Whatever. Like I’d even be interested in Little Miss Perfect over there. She wishes,” Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes and sinking back into the cushions, one arm casually draped over the arm of the couch, silver rings catching the lamplight. “Would someone like to tell me why she’s even here?”

Your eyes slipped closed for a moment, a soft inhale pulled through your nose in an attempt to calm down. It wouldn’t do you any good with your new friends if you punched him in the face. He might be a jerk but he was their friend and you were pretty certain clocking him, whether he deserved it or not, would get you a lifetime ban from the others. Your fist clenched and unclenched at your side, attempting to relieve the tense energy that arose at his acting like you were an unwanted intruder once again. 

“Because last I checked this is my house and I invited her,” Nancy shot back at him, hands on her hips. “If you don’t like who I invite over, you are welcome to leave. You know where the door is.”

“So that’s how it is?” Eddie challenged, pressing his lips together with a slow nod. “You’d throw me out, the guy you’ve been friends with for years, the guy you’ve bled with, the guy who almost d…” He stopped himself, glaring over at you as if you’d been the reason he’d said something he obviously wished he hadn’t. “You’d do that to keep some girl you just met last night here?”

Bled with? Almost died? Your ears perked up. This group kept dropping little snippets, pieces of info that would slip through the cracks, particularly when one of them was emotional. Did this all have to do with the mall fire or was this about the supposed raccoons again? You’d been wondering if the raccoons had come into contact with those toxic chemicals that Nancy’s friend had. Could that be why they attacked him?

You vibrated with the need for answers but you sure as hell weren’t going to ask Eddie for them. And you definitely weren't asking anybody else with him sitting right there. He’d probably just call you nosy, tell you it was none of your business because you didn’t even belong here. And really, he’d be right, wouldn’t he? It wasn’t any of your business what had happened years ago before you’d even met any of them but you could not seem to quell her curiosity.

“Nobody is throwing anybody anyway,” Nancy sighed, looking so like a mom in that moment that you had to bite back a laugh. “Stop being dramatic. I didn’t tell you to leave. I said if you did not like the current company, then you are welcome to leave if you wanted to. No one is keeping you here. I am more than happy to have everyone stay but if you’re staying, then you’re going to be nice and stop being such a dick to my friend.”

Steve, who had been fairly silent through this whole exchange, rose up from his spot on the floor, “Besides, you two are actually arguing over nothing because, to answer your question, I’m not even rich. My parents are the ones who are rich.”

“Oh, I really wasn’t trying to say anything about your money situation,” you clarified quickly, embarrassed. Did they all think that? That you would suddenly be interested in him if he had money? Because nothing could be further from the truth. “I really don’t…I mean it doesn’t…” You stammered, your cheeks heating up. 

“Uh-oh Harrington, you’ve made our Prom Queen blush,” Eddie guffawed. “You might have a shot but I wouldn’t bother. I highly doubt you’ll meet her standards anymore. You’re not the big man on campus you used to be even with your gun and badge. Once she realizes how little money you actually make, she’ll be looking for someone better. Hey, is your dad still fucking anything in a skirt?”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie. Seriously? Why do you have to be such a dick?” huffed Steve, his hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“I’m doing nothing but stating the obvious, man,” Eddie stated. “It’s common knowledge about your dad. I didn’t say anything we all don’t already know. And I mean, look at her. She ain’t looking at either of us. That would be climbing down into the gutter and Ms. Priss over there is far too good to roll in the muck with us blue collars. Maybe at one time you would have struck her fancy Stevie, but you’re a small town cop with an itty bitty paycheck now. Prom Queen needs more than that to be happy. Trust me. I guarantee you her ex made big money and now that she’s lost access to his bank account she needs a new man to take care of her and buy her all those pretty things she’s so used to having. She’s just like all those college girls that walked into Scoops Ahoy, took one look at you in your little sailor outfit, and decided you weren’t good enough.”

“You know what, fuck you!” you yelled, having enough. He wanted to push your buttons and see if he could make you blow. Fine. Mission successful. “You’re such a miserable bastard. You hate me and you don’t even know me. You just assumed the worst about me from the moment you saw me for whatever reason and I am done putting up with your shit.” You glanced over at Nancy. “Thank you for the invite and thank you so much for all your help today but I…I’m just going to go home. I’ll talk to you…whenever.”

“No. Come on. You don’t have to leave because of him,” Nancy insisted. “We can head out back and leave these guys.”

“No, it’s fine, really. I have work tomorrow and I should just go home. I have lesson plans that I still need to finish and I should try to get some sleep anyway. I didn’t sleep well last night and there’s nothing worse than trying to keep a bunch of eight year olds in line when you’re cranky and tired,” you muttered. “I’ll call you sometime later this week, okay?”

“Roller skating Thursday!” Robin yelled out as you stormed out the door, giving her no acknowledgement besides a single wave. 

You had no intention of going roller skating or calling Nancy. You’d been overjoyed to find a group of people that you might be able to call friends, a group of people you could spend time with. But you couldn’t deal with him. And being friends with them meant you would have to. The easiest thing to do would be to just walk away from all of them. There was no way you could get along with that asshole and he was never going to let up. 

It made no sense. How could someone who didn’t even know you hate you so much? What made him think that you were so awful? Was it your hair? Your clothes? No, you didn’t dress like some metalhead but neither did any of his friends. Could that really be his problem? Maybe it was just you. Did you have some kind of off-putting energy you weren't even aware of? You didn’t even know why you cared that much and the fact that you cared that much only made you even more infuriated, your skin humming with anger. 

And what was with all his assumptions about you? What about you screamed that you were some stuck up bitch who would marry a guy for how much cash he had in his pocket? Yeah, Cam had come from a well-off family and he’d made good money as a real estate agent but that had not been why you’d married him. You’d married him because you thought you loved him, you’d thought he loved you, you’d thought you were going to live happily ever after. 

“Hey, Prom Queen!” came a voice from behind you and you groaned, picking up your pace, desperate to get away from him. “Hey! Son of a bitch! Wait up woman!” 

Boots thudded loudly along the sidewalk as he began to jog behind you. You considered breaking into a run but realized that would only make you look insane, giving him even more ammunition to lob at you. He wasn’t the bogeyman. You weren't scared of him. You were just sick and tired of his shitty attitude and all his snide comments. You continued walking, listening with dread as the boots drew ever closer, just wanting to make it to your house where you could close the door on him, keeping him and all his vitriol out. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie gasped as he slowed up next to you. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“Yeah, I did. I just have zero interest in listening to you,” you snapped, continuing to walk in the direction of your house, hoping he would get the point and turn around and leave you the hell alone. 

Why had he even bothered to follow you? He clearly hadn’t wanted you there and you’d given him what he wanted. Now he could hang out with his friends in peace, not having to worry about the new face that he couldn’t stand the sight of.

“Look, I’ll stop saying shit, okay? I’ll shut up completely if you want me to. I won’t even talk to you at all. Just come back to the house with me. Jonathan just ordered the pizza. The girls are breaking out a bottle of wine. They really want you there.”

And there it was. The girls wanted you there. The girls had probably gone off on him for being such a dick. That was why he was chasing you down the sidewalk like a dog with its tail between its legs. He hadn’t wanted to come after you. He wasn’t really sorry for anything that he’d said. They’d forced him to.

“Oh yeah? Did they tell you off for being a jerk? Is that why you’re suddenly chasing me down the street? Because they told you to fix it?” you demanded, disappointment curdling within you at knowing this, knowing he hadn’t been the one to want to stop you.

“Yeah, there may have been some yelling after you walked out,” Eddie chuckled stiffly, his hand coming to the nape of his neck, rubbing. “Everyone’s a little pissed off at me. I believe the words asshole and dick may have been thrown around by a couple people but they’ll get over it. They always do. None of them can actually stay mad at me. So, what do you say? Just come back and hang with us.”

“No,” you stated simply, your hands gripping your cardigan and pulling it tighter, attempting to protect yourself from more than just the chill of the night air. 

His hand came around your bicep, gentle but firm, pulling you to a stop and Eddie stepped in front of you. Your eyes looked down at his hand and then up at his face, glaring at him for having the nerve to touch you. He released you, hands held in front of him as if he were assuring you he wasn’t dangerous, that he wouldn’t hurt you. You wanted to laugh but it really wasn’t all that funny. Yeah, you definitely worried about Eddie causing you pain but it wasn’t the physical kind. 

Those plush lips curved up in the corners, a soft smile gracing his face that felt like a punch to your diaphragm, all of your air supply gone in an instant. You couldn’t make sense of the emotions washing over you. It was like the world had turned completely upside-down and you were thrown into a whirlwind of feeling, both drawn to him and anxious to distance yourself from him. You felt like you were going to be torn in half, the two warring parts of yourself, one resistant, one wanting him. None of it made any sense. 

“Look…” He paused, teeth clenched, the muscle in his jaw twitching, letting you know that what he was about to say was a real struggle for him. “I’ve been a jerk to you and you’re right. I don’t even know you. It was a real dick move. I just…” One large hand ran over his face as he groaned. “I don’t have an excuse, okay? But you didn’t deserve it and I will stop. Will you please just come back to the house?”

You folded your arms, braced your feet in an attempt to keep yourself steady before you absolutely plunged into the pools that were his brown eyes, so soft and sincere at the moment, as warm as that cup of coffee you’d been gazing into this morning. You didn’t know what this was and you didn’t know if he was being as sincere as his face was making him out to be. He could simply be really good at acting. 

But you also still had that tingly little inkling again that something more was going on here, something deep, something dark, that united them all somehow. Something traumatic that you could catch in the shadows that crossed over their eyes, the way their brows furrowed, the way they chewed on their lips or pressed them into a hard line. Something was haunting these people, something bad from the past, and while you knew it was none of your business, you couldn’t help but be curious. Who wouldn’t be? What could be so big that it could involve so many people and affect them so deeply for so long? You had a burning desire to find out. It was your own mystery novel coming to life. It was too tempting to ignore.

“Fine. I will come back to the house,” you finally said, adding, “but I still don’t like you.”

Eddie laughed, the sound causing you to jump because it was a genuine laugh, a deep laugh that rumbled up from his belly. It was a laugh of amusement rather than smugness. It was warm and pleasant and you hated how much you enjoyed it, how much you wished to make him do it over and over again because it may have been the most pleasant sound that your ears had ever heard.

“No worries there, Prom Queen. I still don’t like you either but I will let up, okay?”

You realized in that moment how much you wanted this, wanted this group of friends, wanted to belong in this town. You needed it, your fresh start. So as much as you didn’t believe Eddie in the slightest, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut for long. As much as you knew there was something about you he didn’t like, that he was only being barely nice right now because his friends forced him to, you followed him back to Nancy and Jonathan’s house, the two of you walking in silence, thankful it was a short walk, too short to get awkward. 

“She’s back!” Steve cheered as you walked in, throwing his arms up in the air before striding over to you, his arm coming around your shoulders. “Eddie said he’d bring you back but I was expecting him to come back alone with a black eye or something.”

“Don’t think the thought didn’t cross my mind,” you muttered, annoyed to find how pleased you were when your comment caused that laugh to rise up from Eddie again, a delicious rumbling sound that caressed your skin, flooded your belly with warmth. You caught his eyes, your insides going all mushy at the way they crinkled in the corners, a real smile on his face, changing his entire demeanor, allowing you to see the guy that Millie had described this morning.

“Pizza should be here any minute,” Jonathan told you as he walked out of the kitchen with paper plates and napkins, Nancy following him with cups and a two liter of Coke. 

As if on cue, the front door swung open so hard that it banged into the wall. “The pies have arrived brochachos!” came a loud voice a few moments later, Argyle standing with three pizza boxes balanced on one hand, the other on his hip, giving him the appearance of a superhero. 

“You deliver your own pizzas?” you asked, amused.

“Nah, not usually. Only for very special customers, you know?” He winked and dropped the boxes onto the dining room table. Placing them out, he lifted up the lid of each box, proudly displaying his work. “And this one is just for you, new girl. Have you ever experienced the pleasure of some juicy pineapple on your pie?”

“I have not but I have had multiple people already tell me how delicious it is,” you replied. “Millie at the bakery told me you insisted she try it and she really liked it.”

“Oh! Mills! I love that sweet old lady. Green peppers, mushrooms, and sausage every week for her and Roy. The amount of cookies I’ve eaten from that place. Nothing beats a sweet treat from Mills when you’re riding that high and the munchies hit, you know?”

You giggled, “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

As everyone began to sit down, you took a seat in between Robin and Nancy. Eddie dropped down across from you. He immediately reached out for a piece of pizza, not even bothering with a plate, and you found yourself absolutely entranced by his hands, his fingers, the nails cut down short, those big, gaudy rings. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as he lifted the slice to his mouth, those full lips wrapped around the end, biting with his teeth, a string of cheese hanging from the side of his lip that you just wanted to use her tongue to... 

“Sam?”

You jumped, turning to find Nancy looking at you, a knowing and highly amused smile on her lips as she glanced from Eddie and then back to you. You felt that heat flush your cheeks once again, realizing you had been busted checking him out. Shit. You seriously needed to get this crush in check. What in the hell was wrong with you? He was just a guy, a guy who’d been nothing but harsh and rude to you. Why couldn’t you stop looking at him, fantasizing about him?

“Sorry. Daydreaming, I guess. I told you, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night,” you replied, trying to play it off, knowing your attempt was awful and probably not at all believable. “What did you say?”

Nancy laughed lightly, those burgundy painted lips pursing with amusement, “You mentioned that you went to the Hawkins Library yesterday to get some books. I asked what books you got? What do you enjoy reading?”

“Oh, well I got a new Stephen King and ‘Along Came a Spider.’”

“Into the creeptastic, huh?” Eddie mused, taking a long drink of his Coke as he leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs wide. “Wouldn’t have seen that coming. I would have taken you for more of a romance novel kind of girl.” He paused at the look you gave him, setting down his cup and holding up a hand. “Not a dig. Just an observation.”

“An observation based on how I look?” you challenged, your eyes narrowing at him. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself. “Because a girl who was a good student, a Prom Queen, and dated a jock couldn’t possibly be into horror or thriller? Haven’t you learned by now not to judge a book by its cover because I am guessing that’s happened to you a lot with the whole metalhead, stoner theme you have going on.”

“Thanks Harrington for that happy reminder,” Eddie hissed, teeth clenched tightly, muscle in his jaw ticking. You watched as he closed his eyes, rolled his neck. When they opened again, he looked much calmer. “Alright, that’s fair, I guess. Maybe I shouldn’t assume things just because of how you look. So, what else do you like to read then?”

“What’s wrong with being a stoner?” Argyle whispered to Jonathan who just shrugged in response.

“Damn, she’s got you pegged, Munson,” Steve snorted. “Eddie was pretty much the freak weirdo all through high school because of how he looked. People were terrified of the scary guy who wore a battle vest and long hair. People still give him a pretty wide berth after he was…well, even though high school is over.”

“I read a bit of everything, actually,” you answered, pleasantly surprised at his sudden turn around. It was definitely a step in the right direction that he was asking questions about you, trying to get to know you, instead of assuming he already did. “I do enjoy a good romance novel on occasion but I’m kind of picky about them. I don’t like anything too corny or cheesy. I am much more into horror, thriller, and fantasy.”

“Fantasy, huh?” asked Eddie, one eyebrow lifting with interest. “What’s your favorite fantasy book?”

“Well, as a kid I loved the Narnia books. I also really love the Game of Thrones series. The Princess Bride is one of my favorites books and movies of all time. But I think my absolute favorite would have to be The Lord of the Rings series. I keep copies of them on my bookshelf because I go back and reread them all the time and escape back to Middle Earth when I need a break from reality. Which has been quite a lot lately. I actually just finished a re-read last month.”

Eddie’s head snapped back so hard, you were surprised to find it was still attached to his neck. He looked shocked but you didn’t know why. The Lord of the Rings was a very popular book series, clearly, given its popularity years after it had originally been written. It had been published multiple times since it first came out in the fifties. His eyes showed a spark of unexpected joy, his usual moody demeanor morphing into something that resembled him feeling excited. He opened his mouth to say something but Steve beat him to it. 

“Oh, the Princess Bride!” he exclaimed. “I love that movie!” He brandished a plastic fork in his hand like a sword. “I am Inigo Montoya…you killed my father…prepare to die…”

You laughed at his very sweet but absolutely horrible impression of Mandy Patinkin. You had to give him points for trying. Eddie’s fist clenched on top of the table, his eyes completely focused on his plate now, jaw tense once again. You waited for him to share whatever he was going to say before Steve interrupted him but he remained silent. His eyes dulled, that lively expression that had been there just a moment before fading away, as if he were shutting down, turning off all the switches, closing the door to any opportunity for further conversation. 

“Mawwage,” Robin called out loudly, spreading her arms wide to her congregation, “mawwage is what bwings us togeva today.”

“Have fun storming the castle!” Argyle exclaimed loudly.

You all rolled into a fit of giggles as you called out some of your favorite lines from the movie, everyone except Eddie. He rose from his seat, gathering everyone’s empty plates and made his way into the kitchen. Your eyes tracked him, fighting back the desire to follow him, to find out what had changed to make him surly again so quickly. But no, you were the last one who should be going to see what was wrong with him. He’d probably just snap something nasty your way anyway and you’d had more than enough of his hostility for one day.

“We should watch it!” Nancy yelled with a clap, jumping up from her chair. “We have the DVD.” She glanced over at you. “What do you say? I know it’s a school night but you’re right around the corner. It wouldn’t be too late.”

You shrugged, finding it hard to deny her, especially when you were so glad to be a part of this group, “Sure.”

You were going to regret this when you got home and had two hours of lesson planning still to do. This was what you got for putting it off until the last minute. But it just felt so damn good to be surrounded by people who wanted you around, to be anywhere but sitting in your silent home alone, that you decided a late night would be a small price to pay.

You all made your way into the living room while Jonathan grabbed the DVD and put it in. You noticed, and then cursed yourself for noticing, that Eddie was still gone. What was taking him so long and what in the hell had switched off his good mood so quickly? With him it felt like going from a warm day on the beach, the sun heating your skin to suddenly being in a frigid, desolate hellscape of ice and snow that made your very bones shake. How could someone shift so fast?

You took a spot on the couch and Steve sat down next to you, in the middle, Robin on his other side. Nancy and Jonathan curled up together on the loveseat as Argyle dropped down onto the floor. 

“I love this movie. I haven’t watched it in years,” Steve grinned at you, his arm coming to rest on the couch behind you. Not touching, just hovering but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

Damn. You really hoped Steve was not attempting to pursue something. That was not a conversation you wanted to have. It wouldn’t do much for a budding friendship if you shot down one of them. But as sweet and adorable as Steve was, you just weren't ready. To be fair, you weren't ready to date anyone. You were just getting out of a failed marriage, recovering from heartbreak and the worst betrayal of your life. You weren't interested in any guy right now.

Just as the previews started playing, Eddie reappeared as if calling you out for the blatant lies you were telling yourself, reminding you that one guy was quite interesting. His eyes scanned the room, a flicker of anger flashing over his face as he looked right at you. Jesus. What in the hell had you possibly done now? You hadn’t even been near him. How had you offended him again?

“Hey, I’m gonna head out,” he announced to the room.

“What?” protested Steve. “Come on, man. Stay. We’re watching The Princess Bride.”

“My Dude!” Argyle exclaimed. “No. Come on. Watch the movie with us.”

“I’m good. I got an early morning and I need to get some sleep,” he told them and then his eyes bored into hers, dark, vexed. “Enjoy your movie.”

Eddie grabbed his jacket off the back of the dining room chair, a cigarette already in his lips as he went out the front door, leaving you to wonder what had happened in that short exchange about books to make him pissed at you again. Sighing softly, you sunk down into the couch, telling yourself that you were going to enjoy the movie and not let him ruin your night.

“Why does he hate me so much?” you asked softly, despising the dejected tone you could hear in your own voice.

“He hates everything these days,” Jonathan assured her. “Don’t let it get to you. He’ll come around. He’s just moody.”

“How do you all stand it?” you demanded, needing to understand how this group of people was friends with someone so miserable. “How do you hang out with him when he’s so grouchy all the time?”

“He’s not grouchy all the time,” Steve defended.

Argyle grinned, “Trust me, my dude is not grouchy at all when I get him the good stuff.”

Nancy’s eyes rolled in annoyance, “Yeah, because that’s what he needs. More shit to numb all his emotions. Just use drugs instead of actually dealing with your trauma. That’s healthy.”

“What trauma?” you pushed, hoping someone would finally tell you what in the hell was going on here. 

“It’s not really our place to share,” Robin said gently, shrugging. “I’m sorry but he’s our friend too and I don’t want to break his trust. Too many people in his life have already done that to him. I know he can be really unpleasant but he does have his reasons. He doesn’t know you yet and so he’s struggling. He hasn’t exactly been given a lot of reasons to trust people in the past, especially people he doesn’t know but he’ll come around.”

“He really will,” Nancy assured you and then lifted one shoulder. “And even if he doesn’t, the rest of us want you around.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

Steve’s arm came around you, his hand squeezing your shoulder comfortingly, “Yeah. Don’t worry about him. We’re all very happy you’re here.”

You sighed, knowing this should be enough. It should be enough that this amazing group of people wanted you around but it really wasn’t. It bothered you more than you cared to admit that Eddie seemed to have a deep hatred for you. 

Taglist

@tlclick73 @bebe07011 @eddiesguitarskills @witchwolflea @strangerfreak @emilyslutface @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @corrodedcoffincumslut @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @katethetank

[protectingrose]

I’m literally GLUED to this story now ! I cant wait to read more ♥️

Exile in Guyville - Masterlist

Moodboard by @idkidknemore.

Playlist for the time period: 1995

Eddie Munson x Disabled!Fem!Reader

Eddie and Reader are both bisexual. Reader is physically disabled and suffers from PTSD. Eddie suffers from PTSD and chronic pain. This is not what the story is about, it's just facts about their lives.

*Disclaimer* This story is written in second-person POV for reader immersion. I am labeling it an Eddie Munson x Reader fic. Reader is a unique character. They have a shaved head, are physically disabled - sometimes walking with a limp -, tattoos, and piercings. They have a backstory. If you are not interested in a fic written in that way, simply do not read it. 💜

A/N: The story contained within this series is fictional, but the places are mostly real. I do not know how it ends yet, or if it will be limited to 5 parts. Please read the warnings that will be associated with the series and each chapter. I wanted to write a story about Eddie finding a home.

Warnings: Period typical homophobia, sexism, yearning, smut. The Reader is being stalked, not by Eddie. Parental drug abuse.

Mesmerizing 1

Glory 2

Shatter 3

Flower 4

A Ronance Interlude

Gunshy 5

This story is complex, just like life.

[protectingrose]

Love will tear us apart masterlist 

Summary: Eddie convinced himself that he hates the girl that took over his mind the moment he laid eyes on her. The girl that he saved without even knowing it. 

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, trauma, mentions of physical and mental abuse, unrequited love, upside down stuff, hurt/comfort, happy ending

Pairings: Eddie Munson x female reader | slight Steve Harrington x female reader

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five // part six  // part seven // part eight // part nine // part ten // part eleven // part twelve // part thirteen // part fourteen // part fifteen // part sixteen // part seventeen // part eighteen // part nineteen // part twenty // part twenty one // part twenty two

drabbles/imagines/flashback scenes (all in the right order)

Eddie sees reader for the first time

The bonfire

The disappearance

I’m right here

Lost & found

Cruel dreams

Eddie and reader almost kiss

The halloween party

The snow ball

The mall

Reader sees Eddie with another girl and gets jealous

New years

-

stranger things masterlist

[protectingrose]

This story hits the feelings really well 😓♥️♥️ . I cant wait to read more !

Tale as old as time…Song as old as rhyme...Beauty and the Beast

Warnings: beast!eddie x belle!reader, your father’s name is still Maurice but no physical description of him is given, lots if misunderstandings, billy hargove

Wc:14k

I. Be Our Guest

“She’s so beautiful.”

“Quite the Belle she is.”

“Any man would be lucky to have her.”

“If only her head wasn’t always buried in a book.”

“She’d probably be wed by now if she looked up for once.”

“Such a waste of a pretty face.”

The leather binding of the book is smooth in your hands, chilled to the touch from the trek across the village from your home in the autumn to winter cusp. You’d finished it overnight, the story of two star crossed lovers from Verona was so enthralling that you were unable to put the book down from when you started it just the day before. The days of harvesting had started teetering back and forth between just warm enough and bitterly cold at times, the latter more so as of late, leaving you with plenty of excuses to stay inside and indulge in fantasies that were much greater than the boring, predictable life you’d been living lately. Even now you think about their tragic end as you bob and weave through the bustling village on your way back to the bookkeep to make a new selection. 

 It’s only a few months short of a year now since you and your father had moved to this village. You were sad to leave the city behind you, even if only for the wider selection of reading materials than this place had to offer, but you could give credit to the peaceful fields that offered beautiful and secluded spots to let your mind escape into another world. The village itself was filled with close minded individuals that you chose to keep your distance from, say for a sprinkling of good people among the bunch, leaving the rest of the townsfolk to wonder and play guessing games about you and your father.

“Anything new today, Mr.Moreau?” You call into the empty keep. It was amazing that a town like this even had a bookkeep, albeit on the small side compared to what you’d grown used to from your time in the city. You weren’t even sure if the majority of the town could read, but you appreciated it’s business enough with your almost daily visits. 

“Afraid not since yesterday, my dear Belle,” he called from further back in the store. Belle; A nickname the town came up with for you shortly after your arrival, meaning Beautiful. If they thought so highly of you, you could only imagine how their eyes would pop out of their skulls if they saw the other women who walked the streets of Paris. “Are you finished with your book already?” He asks as he rounds the corner with a stack of books, placing them on the counter before you. You nod, running your fingers over the leather bindings, doing a once over for anything that you may not have read yet. Instead, your eye spots a book that you’ve read countless times before.

“Yes, I couldn’t put it down,” you say as you place the love story on the counter, pulling the thicker book out of the stack. “Oh, I love this book!” You exclaim, letting the pages flutter as you hold it in your hands. “The prince in this is so kind and understanding. A bit of a grump at first, but you really fall for him by the end.”

“My, my,” Moreau chuckles as he listens to you gush, “If the book has made such an impression on you, then it is yours, dear Belle.”

“What?” You close the book and hold it close to your chest. “Are you sure, sir? I couldn’t dare put you out on such a great tale.”

He dismisses you with a wave of his hand, “Madamuaselle, surely you know that you are one of the only people who give me the time of day when you walk through those doors. Besides, no one that comes in here for a book is going to be looking for something like that. I insist, it is yours.” 

You thank him for his kindness, leaving with your newly gifted book as well as a few more that caught your eye. With a pep in your step, you walk with your head held high on the journey back through the village, stopping to pay patronage to a few vendors as you go. The lack of traffic at this time of day has you paying little attention as you navigate the stone pathways, barely able to see over the bags containing your spoils, you shouldn’t be surprised when you collide with something as you turn down the cobblestone paths. It puts you on your ass, your spoils scattered along the ground around you. 

“Well, well, look who must’ve had their head up in the clouds again,” a sultry voice teases from above you. One that you couldn’t mistake anywhere, belonging to the town heartthrob, Wiliam Hargrove. With his piercing blue eyes, lush waves that never seem out of place, and conventionally attractive face, he was the town's most wanted bachelor. You’d even been tricked by his good looks to go on a date with him, unfortunately ending in you realizing that his good looks are a distraction for his terrible personality.

Billy towers over you where you sit on the ground, his lips curled into a smirk as he balances a wood pick between his teeth. You don’t bother to look up, rather debating on leaving your things behind and booking it home to avoid this interaction. “What a surprise to see you out and about, little Belle. Here, let me—”

“No, thank you, William. I can get them,” you try and pick the items up as quickly as you can, but he’s already on the move. Disregarding your words, he picks up your newly gifted book and examines it.

“Told you to call me Billy,” he says with annoyance. The book dangles in his grip as he lets the pages flop around. “I don’t see how you can enjoy this fairy tale garbage. Just a bunch of made up billshit. There aren't even any pictures to look at.”

“Wonderful observation,” you say with snarky condescension. You reach for the book, but he yanks it up, far above your head where you can’t reach. “Willam.”

“Yes, darling?” You cringe at his delusions of your relationship. No matter how many times you’ve rejected his offers for a second date, he never takes no for an answer, convincing himself that you’re just playing hard to get.

If he wasn’t so much bigger than you, you’d just deliver the message with your fist in his face. 

“May I have my book back, please?” You give him the faux sincerity that tends to be enough to quell whatever craving he has for your attention. He looks down on you for a moment, before lowering the book to be within your reach. You sigh, going to reach for the book again, only for him to pull it away once more. So quickly it makes you lose your balance and fall into him. He pulls you into him with a snicker as you land against his chest.

“I’ll give you your book back, if…”

“If?”

“If you agree to finally settle down with me. Let me take care of you like a man should. I can get us set up in a nice house, away from your crazy dad, and — hey, wait!”

Taking your things, you push away from him, leaving the book behind in his possession. It doesn’t take more than a few strides for him to catch up with you, continuing to plead and sell you on the idea of submission disguised as domestication. 

This continues until you’ve reached the front door of your home, where you can hear the sound of whirring and tinkering from the open window as your father works inside. 

“Billy, please. I don’t know what else I have to tell you for you to get the hint, but I am not interested in settling down. Not now. Not ever. And you can keep the book. Maybe if you read it then you’ll learn how to act like a gentleman.” With that, you slam the door in his face.

After putting away your purchases, you slowly open the door to the small room where your father, Maurice, is deep in his work. A few years back he created a groundbreaking medical invention that has been making waves since its debut. Ever since he’s been chasing the high by trying to come up with something as revolutionary, which led to your moving out to the countryside to help him “clear his head from the mucked up city air.” It’s wonderful to see him with so much vigor after the sad spell he fell into after the death of your mother, but you worry that he’s driving himself mad by the day.

“Father,” you call for his attention, “I’m going to be making supper soon. Will you be joining me tonight or--” 

The sound of metal clattering against wood and your father’s booming laugh cut you off as he danced around in place. When he turns he finally notices you, making quick steps to grab you by the shoulders and shake you excitedly.

“My darling daughter! Light of my life! I think I’ve finally done it again. And just in time…I’ll be heading out in just a few hours for the city to bring them my newest creation!”

“Tonight? But father there’s--”

Your words don’t reach him as he pulls himself away and grabs a bag, haphazardly throwing things inside with a haste. “Now, I’m going to be taking Phillip, so no need to worry about tending to him. Just make sure the chickens get fed and--Oh! Make sure you lock up the windows. It’s supposed to be getting colder and we don’t want a draft in the house.”

“Yes, I agree. That’s why I think you should--”

“Now I’m most likely going to be gone for a week or more so I’ll bring in some firewood before I go so you can keep it going. If it goes out you can ask that nice William fellow to help you out.”

“Ugh, Father!” He stops in place as you raise your voice, looking at you with wide eyes. You clear your throat, collecting yourself before you speak again, “Please, do you really think it’s wise to go out this late? I’ve heard talks of a winter storm coming this way and all I’m going to do is worry about you while you’re gone.”

Your father’s eyes soften. He moves to you again, pulling you in for a tight hug. 

“Darling, you worry just like your mother. I promise that I will be just fine. After all the traveling we’ve done, a little snow hasn’t taken me out yet.” You go to speak, but he beats you to it, “And don’t say anything about my age, little bird. I’m probably in better health now compared to my days on the farm.” He kisses the top of your head before continuing to pack. You sigh, leaving him to be in his stubborn ways to pack him food to take on his journey. 

Snow begins to lightly fall as he finishes loading the last of his things into the carriage. “Are you sure you should leave tonight,” you ask as he secures Phillips' reins before jumping up to his seat. You hand him an extra scarf, a red one you got for him for his birthday, that he wraps around his neck snuggly.

“Yes, my dear, I will be just fine. Please try not to make yourself sick while I’m gone, okay?” You nod and he gives his last farewells before taking off into the night, leaving you behind.

Despite your father’s wishes, you still spent your days worrying about him. The snow hadn’t stayed around long, melting by the end of the week with a warm front that had come in. If you’d just convinced him to wait a day you might not be in as much distress over his well being, but your father was stubborn. Even your books couldn’t distract you, leaving you to venture out of the house more than normal to keep your mind distracted. 

The news of your father’s absence spread quickly amongst the town, most people asking if you needed a hand around the house or offering to bring you a meal in your loneliness. The sentiment was appreciated as most meant only well. But the news did also reach Billy, who found it his duty to try and ��keep you safe” while your father was away, the town only egging him on with their good graces of how kind and sweet he was to offer. The only person who seemed to see right through him was his little sister, Maxine. 

By the end of the week, he even had the audacity to try and propose to you. Knocking on your door, already on his knee when you opened it, going on about how you were meant to be his and that he would ask your father for his blessing if he ever returned. A band and half the town stood in your front yard waiting for your reaction. Which was slamming the door in his face and sneaking out the back to the field, where you sit and stare, watching the grass as it swayed with the breeze. At least the sun felt nice on your face.

The sound of rustling in the woods behind you caught your attention. Quickly you rose up from the ground to see what the commotion was, ready to book it if it was Billy out looking for you. But before you could fully process anything in the darkness of the woods, Phillip was soaring over the brush, catching himself as he saw you before taking off further. His whines and neighs come out frantic as he nudges you with his snout, the reins that your father had put on him a few nights before still attached but broken and dangling.

“Phillip, what--why are you here,” you grab him, pulling his face level with yours so you can look him in the eyes. He was the most intelligent horse you’d ever met. You were sure he had been a human in a past life, paying for a wrongdoing that he did by coming back as a horse. But right now he looked worse for wear with dirt and bloody scratches covering his body. Phillip guides you with his head, lowering his body for you to get on his back. You take hold of the broken straps and do your best to hop on, barely getting adjusted before he takes off into the brush. 

Phillip gallops faster than you’ve ever seen in your life. And yet every minute feels like an hour the further into the woods you go. The whole time your mind is racing as you think of the worst possibilities for what happened to your father. What if there was an accident and Phillip was taking you to his body? What if whatever scratched up Phillip took him and there was nothing left of him? Phillip’s urgency was the only thing giving you any sense that maybe he was still alive, wherever he may be, but it didn’t settle the dread that was forming a rock in your gut the longer you went on. 

It was dark before Phillip finally started to slow, the light of the moon growing brighter as you reached the edge of the brush. Once you broke through you were met with a large gate entrance that guarded a cobblestone path, worn down as if it had been used many times before. 

The closer you got to the gate, the more clearly you could make out the silhouette of a large castle in the distance. Though, you were unsure of what would be drawing people to this place. It looked overgrown and abandoned as large branches with thorns covered everything as far as you could see, which wasn’t much as there seemed to be a thick fog perpetually hanging within the grounds.

You dismounted to open the gate, but noticed as you approached that it was already slightly ajar, like the last person to go through the gates didn’t bother to close it behind them. It led you to wonder if your father had gone inside here to take shelter here. Pushing the gate open more, you began your trek up to the castle with Phillip staying close behind. 

The air was cooler here, the chill creeping over your exposed skin as you stepped over the overgrown vines that covered the path. It wasn’t natural, this cold. It felt as if it were meant to be a warning, a silent statement to stay away. To turn back if you know what’s good for you. But you had your father’s foolishness in you, so you chose to ignore the feeling with every step closer. 

The fog cleared the closer you got to the castle. It was like the beautiful castles you read in your story books, or at least the bones of one. Impossibly huge with elaborate structures, a large fountain in the center of a courtyard that was completely dry and had cracks throughout its foundation. A shame, really. It looked like it would have been beautiful in its prime. Large bits of broken stone that had fallen from higher towers of the castle lay scattered, some heavy enough to have cracked the cobblestone upon impact. The remains of potted foliage sit decaying at the foot of the steps leading to a large wooden door. You hesitate for a moment, looking back to Phillip as he watches you from a distance. 

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to will the nerves away, you pull up the sides of your dress and make your way up the steps, careful of any cracks or debris as you ascend to the top. The door is even more imposing as you stand before it with its large frame and heavy iron handles, scaling high, higher than any door realistically needs to be. Whoever built this castle had an exaggerated taste. 

After talking yourself into it, you eventually knock on the door and wait for a response. You’re really not surprised when there isn’t a response, but knock once again, a little harder this time, and wait once again. Still nothing, furthering your belief that the castle was indeed abandoned and therefore free from game. With a shove, you push the door open and stumble inside. 

You find yourself in an exceptionally large foyer as you make your inside, closing the door behind you. The large window at the top of a beautiful staircase has the blinds cracked just enough that the jewels of the large centerpiece chandelier glow. It would be beautiful if the red tint on the tear drop stones didn’t remind you of blood. It illuminates the room just enough that you can see shelves filled with decorative pieces sitting in front of a dark printed wallpaper. Tables with flowers sit in various spaces of the room, along with velvet furniture pieces and…frames? Empty frames, where paintings presumably once had a home in, now left to frame the wine red wilting roses on a matte black background. 

In awe of your hauntingly beautiful surroundings, you almost trip over a loose bit of fabric in the center of the room, its red colour blending in with the long red carpet descending from the stairs. You go to pick it up, not thinking much of it until the fabric touches fingers in a way that’s all too familiar. When you unravel the material, a scarf that’s dirty and tattered, you realize it’s the same one you put on your father at the beginning of the week. 

“Father? Father!” 

Frantically you round the room, shouting for your father, only to be given nothing in return. You swear you hear whispers, but are unsure if they’re real or just in your head. With haste you make your way up the staircase, choosing to take stairs to the right as you search for your father. You open doors and push aside curtains as you pace the labyrinth of halls, calling for your father in hopes that he will hear you if you get close enough to him. And though it seems that the castle is empty, you feel like eyes are on you the entire search. 

As you’re running down a hall, a door just ahead opens up just enough to see light flickering inside. You push the door open more revealing a stone spiral staircase illuminated by a torch on the wall, most likely leading up to one of the towers you had seen from the outside. You shout again for your father, and for the first time you hear a distinct but faint groan in response. No other time in your life have your legs moved so quickly. The sounds of your footsteps echo against the walls, but are drowned out by the groaning as you approach the top. 

The only light in this tower comes from a hole in the roof where the moon shines through, shedding light on the horrors before you. Cells with iron bars lined the curved wall of the tower, most of them empty say for some hay and…bones scattered on their floors. In the cell directly across from you, you see a body laying on the ground. If it wasn’t for the visible shaking you’d think it was a corpse. A groan erupts from the form and you immediately recognize it. 

“Father,” you cry out as you run to the door of his cell, fruitlessly pulling at the bars in hopes that it would open. 

“Darling?” His voice sounds weak, body moving slowly as he turns to face you. You’d thought that he would have been happy to see you, but there was only horror in his eyes as he realized you were there. 

“No…no, my dear, you must leave here.” He coughs as he raises himself up from the ground. His eyes frantically move around behind you, as if he’s looking for something beyond you. “It’s not safe. He-he can’t know you’re here,” he starts coughing again as he talks.

“Hold on, father,” you say as you start to look around the room, “I’m going to get you out of here.”

“Please, just leave me! Get out of here as fast as you can!”

“No!” You shout as you try to will your eyes to see in the dark, looking around for anything that may help you release your father from his prison. “How did you end up here anyway?”

He tells you that he and Phillip had been attacked by wolves on the second day of their journey in the woods. They had managed to escape, and he and Philip found this castle and decided to try and take cover before returning home. 

“I was about to pass out in the doorway, when a candelabra and a clock greeted me and ushered me inside.”

You stop in your tracks, looking to your father with sorrow. “Oh, father,” you sigh dolefully, “you’re worse than I thought. When was the last time you ate? Let me see if you have a fever.”

“No, darling, please, you must believe me,” he pleads, grabbing your hands and holding them, the bars of his cell keeping you apart. “This place is alive and is housing the Devil himself—”

Before your father could finish his sentence, the two of you are cast in a large shadow. You watch his eyes go wide and all the colour drains from his face. The split second you go to turn to see what was blocking the light, something hard makes contact with your side, sending your body flying a few feet until you hit the metal bars of another cell. Your father calls out your name, and a low growl of a voice tells him to be quiet. 

As you lift your head, you can see the faint outline of a large creature in front of your father’s cell. It was hard to make out its exact shape due to the low lighting, but there was one thing about the creature that had your blood going cold; it’s eyes.  They were the eyes of a predator, akin to pictures you’ve seen of lions. Bright yellow, with pupils constricted tightly and surrounded by dark circles similar to charcoal. And most terrifyingly, they were locked on you, shifting with every slight movement you made. With a low growl, the creature leans forward and stalks towards you, hunching over to presumably walk on all fours. 

“No!” Your father cries out, shaking the bars of his cell. “Please, she was only looking for me! She means no harm, leave her be, Devil!”

You begin to shake as the eyes creep closer, until they completely disappear as the light from the moon above is hidden by a passing cloud. Every second feels like an hour as you will your vision to adjust to the darkness quicker. Your breathing picks up as you back as far against the bars behind you as you physically could. The cries of your father continues, falling on deaf ears as you can head quiet shuffling. The words to tell him to be quiet sit in your mouth as you try to focus on the monster stalking you—

Sniff.

It comes from your left, the Beast’s breath hitting your shoulder in a huff that fans your face. Instinctively, you hold your own breath, eyes snapping shut as you try and brace yourself for whatever fate you will meet. 

It lets out a low hum. One of judgment as he inspects you all over, smelling you like a dog. The light of the moon begins to illuminate the room once more, and it takes everything in you not to scream as the monster is revealed hunched over you on all fours not even a foot in front of you. 

The first thing that catches your eye from the way he’s leaning over you are the long ram-like horns protruding from the top of his head. From there, long, dark, curly tendrils of hair fall almost to the floor and cascades down his back. Peeking out from either side of his hair are a set of long pointed ears, adorned with bits of jewelry and chains. 

When you get the courage to focus on his face, it takes your breath away to see his eyes so close to you. Bright yellow against the black kohl around his eyes, giving them a sunken in appearance. The rest of his face is a sickly alabaster white, partially shrouded by hairs that have fallen in front of his face. His nose slopes down in a similar fashion to that of a goat’s snout, but the slight part of his lips as he breathes in and out show four sharp, pointed teeth. His tongue slides out from between them, licking his plump lips slowly. The action makes you realize you’ve been staring, eyes flicking back up to meet the Beast’s again. 

“Darling?” Your father calls from his cell, breaking the tense silence in the room. Or maybe it was just between you and the predator before you, whose eyes roll in annoyance at your father’s call. 

“Do you ever shut up?” The Beast finally speaks over his shoulder, sounding more human than you were expecting, but still low and gravely. He looks back to you, shaking his head before raising up.

As he stands, you get a better glimpse of his full form under the light, and you fully understand why your father calls him a devil. With his long pointed tail, hind legs, and long, strong arms; all of his digits in each hand ending with dark claws. There was no mistaking that whatever this monster was before you, it certainly was something straight from hell.

Despite his physical appearance, you’re surprised to see he is wearing somewhat normal human clothing, similar to the leisure wears of a noble. A now tattered long sleeve blouse embroidered with golden thread that stretches across his broad chest, and skin tight trousers that cut off at the knee, pulling across his groin in a way that makes you turn your head with heat on your cheeks as he stands in front of you. 

You realize that he can’t stand at full height with the low ceilings, which explains the hunch in his silhouette earlier. Except that the ceilings aren’t that low. They’re at least six feet high. Meaning the Beast before you was at least eight feet tall. He clears the space between you and where your father is held in a few steps, ducking down to eye level with him. 

“I’m going to move you to the farthest tower in the castle if you can’t keep your mouth shut,” the Beast threatens with a snarl, poking a talon into his chest hard enough to make your father fall backwards m. As he begins to cough, you rise from the ground and rush to his cell, doing your best to reach him through the iron bars.

The Beast looks at you with bewilderment as you move next to him, seemingly no longer phased by his presence. He sees the way your brows pinch together, chest heaving as you panic, but…not because of him. Rather because of the man in the cage, as if you would put yourself in danger to help him…

“Please, sir,” you turn your head to face him, white knuckling the bars of the cell, “I’ll do anything for you to release my father. Whatever his crime was, I…”

A million thoughts swirl in your head. If your father is left here, he won't make it by this time tomorrow. You look up, meeting the eyes of the monster, wracking your brain for a way to convince him to let your father go. Why was he keeping him alive anyway? Does he enjoy seeing others suffer so much he would let an innocent man die this way? 

“His crime…” the Beast grumbles, baring his teeth. “His crime was waltzing into my castle, helping himself to my food, sitting in my chair and—” his breath fans over your face as he gets in your face, body moving dramatically as he shouts, “Touching. My. CITTERN!” 

You blink slowly, processing the words for a moment before swallowing hard. “I’m sorry,” you say with a humorless chuckle, stepping towards the Beast. “You’re keeping my father prisoner here, allowing him to DIE, because he touched your stupid INSTRUMENT?” You give the same level of exasperation, if not more right back to the oaf. You’re so blinded with rage that you don’t register the way the Beast backs up as you yell at him, lifting his arms in a way to shield himself from you. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself to treat someone like this over something so trivial. Let my father go at once or else I’ll…I’ll—”

“Or else you’ll what?” The Beast growls, standing as high as he possibly can as he towers over you, his sudden aggression startling you. 

“You,” he pokes a long, clawed finger against your forehead, “forget that you are in MY castle. Do not speak to me with such insolence, as I have the right to throw you in your own cell for walking in here just the same as him.” 

“Then do it.” The words fly from your mouth before you can think. “Let him go and put me in his place. He’s only going to be a burden to you if he dies here, so let me take his place. Keep me in his cell forever or…or put me to work. I can clean, cook, whatever you may need.”

“Darling, no, please!” Your father shouts, voice growing more hoarse with every cry. But you ignore him, maintaining eye contact with the Beast. His eyebrow raises at your proposal, eyes just as focused on you as he thinks it over. 

After a moment, he moves from his spot, taking long strides as he reaches the top of the stairs, pulling a loose stone from the wall and extracting a key from where the stone sat. You watch him as he takes the key and unlocks the door to your father cell, swinging the door open as he does. You slip under his arm, running into the cell to embrace your father for the first time in days.

“Oh, father!”

“My sweet girl,” he says as he falls into you with the last of his strength. “Please, you have such a long life ahead of you…”

“No, father, you must go back. Go, get treatment and take your invention to Paris. The world needs you and your genius to keep evolving. All I’ve done all my life is read and daydream.” Tears fall freely as you realize the fate that you’ve signed yourself up for. 

Though not a child, you still have many years ahead of you, now doomed to live them within the confines of this castle under the orders of this monster. Your life may not have been exciting, but you still dreamed that one day you might be swept off of your feet by a charming prince or a charismatic pirate or an alluring wanted man who only has eyes for you. But now you’ll never have the chance to live the fairytale life of your dreams, stuck as the maid to a demon that walks the Earth.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when your father is suddenly torn from your grasp, the Beast throwing him over his shoulder and locking the door behind him, trapping you in the cell. You call out to your father, him calling your name in return as the Beast descends the stairs, leaving you in the cell as your father calls out for you until his voice fades away. The room starts to spin as you fall to your knees. That was likely the last time you will ever see your father again…and you didn’t get to say goodbye.

“No, please, Devil! Spare my poor darling of your torment!” 

Eddie carries the annoying old man over his shoulder as he swiftly makes his way out the castle and to where a carriage was parked in the far off courtyard, surrounded by other objects that suffered the same curse as he. The cackling stopped as the Beast approached, the objects scattering like rats to escape his wrath. 

“Gare,” he calls out to the carriage, visibly shaking as the Beast says his name. “Take this man back to whatever village he comes from. He needs a doctor, so try and find one. And make it quick, or else…” The Beast trails off, not in a threatening way, but as a warning. The carriage opens its door for the Beast to place the man inside, taking off quickly once he’s secured. The man still yelling as he’s taken away. 

The Beast watches the carriage go, until he spots something out of the corner of his eye. A white horse stands idly watching him from across the courtyard. 

“Are you not going to follow?” The beat asks the horse, gesturing toward where the gate would be through the fog. The horse looks at him, then to the castle, before giving a shake of the head and walking away. 

“I don’t think he’s going to leave without her,” a voice says out of nowhere, startling the Beast and causing him to jump. 

“Damn it, Steve,” the Beast growls at the candelabra, who is unphased by his master’s outburst. “I told you not to sneak up on me!”

“I did not sneak,” the candelabra says with a shrug, “you must have been too busy thinking about how to be more of a horrible host.”

The Beast reaches out and grabs Steve by the handle, lifting him to eye level. “Don’t you have better things to do than criticize me?”

“That’s what I said, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” Another voice startles the Beast, causing him to drop the candelabra, sending him to the ground with an oof. 

“Damn it, Robin!” The Beast yells, pinching his brows together. 

“What’s gotten you so worked up?” The small clock asks. The candelabra brushes his elbow into her side with a smile. “He’s traded that old man in for the girl we saw earlier,” he says with a sly grin. 

The clock gasps, clapping her small wooden hands together. “She stayed?! That’s wonderful, master! A girl staying in the castle, and just in time for-“

“Silence! Both of you!” The Beast shouts as he makes his way back to the castle. But the two are hardly phased as they move quickly behind him to catch up. 

“Master,” the candelabra says as he heaves in his pursuit to keep up, “Robin is only saying that in all of the years we have been like this, a girl has never set foot in these doors, right?”

The Beast hesitates as he enters the castle. It's true, in all the years that they’ve been this way, hardly anyone has stepped foot in the entrance of the castle grounds. No one had even gotten to the castle doors before the man had, and now this girl just walks in and has the audacity to speak to him as if she can make any rules she wants-

“So, maybe she is the one.”

Pointed ears perk up.

“The one?” The Beast echoes back with curiosity. 

“Yes, the one” the clock confirms with excitement. 

“I mean, she has already indebted herself to you, so it's not like she’s going anywhere—”

The Beast snaps his head to look at the candelabra. “Were you eavesdropping, Steve?” The Beast asks with an aggressive growl. The candelabra waves his candles in front of himself defensively. 

“No, no, master, I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was already doing my duty of illuminating that staircase so I was nothing I wouldn’t have heard otherwise being already in the tower and all.” The clock looked at the candelabra as if to say ‘that was the worst excuse ever,’ but the candelabra could only shrug in return. Thankfully, the Beast seemed like he wasn’t in the mood to argue. 

“Whatever, just, get to your point,” he grumbles. 

“My point,” the candelabra moves to stand in front of the Beast, “is that, with a little bit of charm, some help from your good pal, Steve, and maybe a bath,” he moves his candles in the shape of a heart, “you can have her falling for you in no time. Then, the curse will be broken, and we can all live happily ever after!” The Beast and the clock both stare at the candelabra blankly. “What?”

“Okay, so I agree that we can get her to fall in love with you,” the clock starts, “but I think that maybe you should leave the ‘helping him get the girl’ part to me.” 

“Puh, Robin, did you already forget how many ladies I was pulling before we were turned?” 

“Hi Steve,” a seductive voice from atop the stairs calls.

“Oh, hi Chrissy,” he waves back to the feather duster fondly before she giggles and takes off. Steve sighs, turning back to the clock. “Still got it.”

“I don’t need any of your help,” the Beast says as he pushes past the two, ascending the stairs towards the castle you’re in. 

“Maybe you don’t,” the clock says as they continue to follow behind him, “but if I may make a suggestion, your grace?” The Beast hesitates as he pulls open the door of the tower, stalling only to hear what the clock has to say. “If you are trying to get on her good side, I would suggest…maybe giving her a room, you know, with a bed to sleep in, rather than a cell?”

The Beast stands still for a moment, eyes shifting in thought before he wordlessly enters the tower. The clock and candelabra look at each other, nodding in unison before sneaking in behind their master. 

When the Beast reaches the top, he is expecting to hear sobs, wails, and other sounds of sadness from your cell. But when his eyes land on you, perfectly visible to him thanks to his ability to see in the dark, he sees that you are simply on your knees, unmoving as your head hangs with your arms limp in your lap. Your stillness reminds him of the stone statues that live within the walls and amongst the grounds here. 

But, even in your disheveled state, grieving from loss, he couldn’t help but take you in. He lets his mind wander as he studies you now, thinking about how beautiful you were in the light of the moon when he first laid eyes on you. You left him frozen, speechless for the first time in his life. How would he survive the way the sun's rays would hit your face? You were so perfectly carved, like a statue, just for him to admire. 

The Beast straightens up the best he can under the low ceiling, moving to you with purpose. He takes the key to the cell and unlocks the door swinging it open and standing just out of the way. He watches as you lift your head slowly, face still stoic except for the knit of confusion in your brow, silently waiting for his instruction. 

“I, uh—“ the Beast clears his throat, trying his best to come off as approachable as possible, “If you’ll come with me, I will take you to where you’ll be staying.”

It hurts him to see the look of terror in your face when he speaks. You slowly rise to your feet, eyes not leaving his, worry written all over your face. 

“Y-you’re not making me stay here?” The shake in your voice has the Beast panicking, his mind racing to come up with some sort of damage control. 

“D-do you want to stay here?” You shake your head no. Of course she doesn’t want to stay here you idiot. “Then, come with me.” He starts for the stairs, seeing the clock and candelabra peaking around the corner, mouthing something to him. “Oh, right,” he says, turning to you over his shoulder, “Follow me, please.”

He snatches the candelabra from his place on the ground and holds it out for you to take. This snaps you out of your trance, moving quickly to take the light from him. Your hand touches his in the transfer, the feeling of your skin on his sending shivers up his arm and down his spine, making him pull the hand away to sooth with the other. 

As he sets off down the stairs, you move as fast as you can to keep up with him. His single step is the equivalent of at least three of your own, and he seemed to be in a hurry to take you to wherever he plans to keep you. It makes you feel uneasy, unsure of his plans for you during your stay in this castle. You did say you would do anything he asked…

“Master, please, you are moving too fast for the girl to keep up.”

A shriek rips from your chest as a voice—one coming from the candelabra that was in your hand until now as you fling it from your grasp. It nearly hits the Beast in front of you, his eyes wide as he watches the candelabra hit the floor in front of him, a groan coming from where it lands. 

“Woah, Steve, are you okay?”

A small clock moves past your feet to the candelabra, making you jump again, throwing yourself forward to grab the Beast’s arm, pulling it in front of you as you look around for more objects that seem to be alive. 

In your panic, you miss the way the Beast tenses under your touch, a weird feeling flowing through his veins and heating up his body as you cower to him rather than away from him. It makes his chest tight in a way he’s never felt before, at least that he can remember.

“Steve, Robin,” the Beast says sternly, drawing the attention of the two living objects. You can make out faces on them now, one that you did not see on the candelabra at first as they look up at the Beast. “Do you two never think before you act? Was it not clear that she is still not aware of the…conditions of this castle?”

“But her father told her that we welcomed him with open arms!”

The clock's words have you recalling everything your father said. 

A clock and a candelabra.

The grip you have on the Beast’s arm falls away, much to his dismay, as you drop down next to the two objects. He watches as you pick up the candelabra again, apologizing for your reaction.

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” the candelabra says cooly, or annoyingly if you were to ask the Beast as he senses the flirtatious tone of his voice. “I guess I could have introduced myself first. The name’s Steve, and my time-telling friend here’s name is Robin.”

“Salutations,” the clock, Robin, says, giving you a small bow. You nod to her in return, telling the both of them your name as well. The Beast’s ears perk up, mouthing your name to himself as if to get the feel of it on his lips. 

“The rest of the castle will be delighted to know we have a beautiful girl such as yourself staying within our walls from now on.” 

The Beast cringes as you giggle at the candelabra’s compliment. 

“You really think so?” You ask the two objects. They both nod vigorously. 

“But of course! Most of us barely remember what a human looks like, seeing how we rarely ever have guests anymore. You, my dear, will be just what this castle needs to feel alive again!”

“Why don’t you go and tell the rest of the castle about our guest, Steve,” the Beast orders through gritted teeth, tired of the overly charismatic candelabra’s presence. 

The face of the candelabra drops before he jumps from your hands, giving the Beast a bow. “As you wish, Master,” he says before hopping away, and you catch the roll of his eye as he goes. 

“What about me, sir?” The clock asks, a hint of nervousness in her voice. The Beast looks down at you, his eyes meeting yours. The way you look at him has no malice, nor fear, but a curiosity as you wait for his response. In your gaze he feels as if he isn’t a monster, but a man equal to you. 

“Go ahead of us,” he says to the clock, “Get Chrissy or Claudia or whomever you may need to prep her room. Perhaps a bath as well. See if we have any…spare clothes as well for her to use.” The clock nods, giving him a salute before taking off down the hall, the metal mechanisms in her body clanging together as she goes, leaving just the two of you behind. 

The Beast takes a few strides, passing you in a silent request to follow him once more. You oblige, moving to keep up with him while trying to take in the castle that would now be your home. His pace is slower this time, catching himself as when he notices you falling behind. 

But as the Beast becomes stuck in his own head about the possible implications of your new residence in his home, he doesn’t notice that you’ve slowed to a halt behind him. Only when he reaches the staircase leading to the west wing does he notice you’re gone. 

In a panic, he retraces his steps, leaning down on all fours as he rounds the last corner, he finds you standing in front of a portrait with wide eyes and a small smile. He curses himself now, not even thinking about the portrait being there as he sees it on a regular basis. As he slowly approaches you, you turn to greet him with enthusiasm. 

“Sorry,” you say, looking back at the picture once more, “I noticed all the empty frames earlier, so my curiosity was piqued to find one with a portrait in it. He’s quite adorable, isn’t he?”

The Beast stares into the jovial brown eyes of the boy from the portrait. The round chubby cheeks and wild mess of curls of a small child don’t match the expression of distaste in the boys scrunched nose or furrowed brow. A portrait of petulant child, spoiled and turned rotten. 

“I don’t know about that,” the Beast grumbles under his breath. “Looks like a brat to me.”

You hum in acknowledgment, “True, but aren’t all children a little difficult sometimes?”

“…I suppose.”  

After a beat or two of silence, the two of you continue on until the Beast stops you in front of a set of stairs with a curtain drawn where the wall opens for the entrance. 

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” he says, voice stern and commanding. “In your stay here, I will allow you to have free roam over all of the castle, the grounds, the garden — anywhere your heart may desire. Except,” he points to the closed curtain, “for the west wing.”

You look at the flowing red drapes, an immense curiosity immediately taking over at the restricted access. A hundred questions sit at the tip of your tongue that you’re sure wouldn’t be answered if you asked, so you simply nod to acknowledge his words. 

“I need to hear you say you understand,” he steps closer to you, peering at you with his dark eyes. “Use your words.”

A funny feeling washes over you at his tone, the way he’s towering you makes a chill run down your spine and strangely between your legs? It’s not fear…not in a life threatening sense you suppose. Heat hits your cheeks and you have to tuck your head to avert your gaze as you mutter a yes just loud enough for him to hear. 

“Good girl,” he says before turning to walk away, back to leading the way again.

And you’re glad he’s not looking at you now, mindlessly moving your feet to follow as your brain tries its best to reconnect the threads he loosened in you with his praise. It’s not like you’ve never had words like that said to you before, though they’re usually spoken by men who feel some kind of superiority to you. But with the Beast, it felt…different. 

The Beast stopped at the end of a hall where sounds of squeals and loud rummaging from the other side of the door. He ran his hands over his goatish snout with a sigh. “This will be your quarters,” he says monotonously before opening the door.

When you peer inside, you see a whirlwind of objects moving on their own in the room. A large dresser is opened wide, spitting out various articles of clothing, the clock and an empty vase making the bed, a feather duster, well, dusting everything in sight. The room must have been unoccupied for a long time due to the clouds of dust being kicked up and unceremoniously waved out of open balcony doors, not a feature you were expecting to have in your permanent prison. 

“She’s here! She’s here!” A small tin canister rushes towards you excitedly. You bend down to pick it up, unable to believe your eyes as you see a face on the spice holder. “Hello! I am El,” she says to you as you turn her in your hands.

“Oh, Steve wasn’t lying when he said you were absolutely a beauty!” The feather duster moves to you as well, and you swear you hear the Beast grumbling behind your back.

“We are so happy to have you, deary,” the sweet voice doesn't match the large dresser as it bounds for you as well. The clock and vase join the others as they greet you, ushering you inside of the rooms. You introduce yourself to all of them, and they give you a jumbled showcase of everything as they all try to speak to you at once in their excitement. 

The Beast clearing his throat as he stands just outside the door stops them all in their tracks, everyone's attention being drawn to him. 

“Ladies, I think that she can take it from here. Why don’t you give her some time to herself to get adjusted to everything? Claudia, leave her something clean to change into and some night clothes, and have Nancy and Barbara wash her current wares.”

The objects all agree and begin to filter out of your room. The dresser leaves you a clean outfit and a nightgown before she goes, telling you to leave your dirty garments outside your door for her to gather later. The Beast stands aside as the dresser leaves, keeping his gaze to the ground as he addresses you with a formality that he has not shown you before. 

“I, um, will leave you to get acquainted with your new room,” he starts, feet shifting under him in place. “In the morning, I will send someone to you with instructions for your daily tasks.” There’s an awkward pause before he simply nods, and closes the door between you.

The Beast releases the breath he was holding, shaking his head in dissatisfaction at his actions. 

“That’s all you’re going to say to her?” The candelabra questions, candles on his hips disapprovingly. His sudden questioning makes the Beast jump, making him snatch the candelabra up and bringing him to eye level. 

“I swear on my uncle that I’m going to put a fucking bell on you one of these days,” the Beast growls before tossing the candelabra back to the ground. 

“Ah, there’s the asshole we all know and love,” the candelabra says teasingly. “You did pretty good in front of her, but I guess you can only save face for so long before the facade cracks. Probably best not to go with the idea I had.” 

The Beast raises an eyebrow at the candelabra, eyeing him through slitted lids. “Humor me.”

The candelabra chuckles, standing himself back up on his base. “I was merely going to suggest inviting her to a nice candle lit dinner. Good food, a little conversation, getting to know each other better.” The candelabra wiggles his brows suggestively. “Maybe one thing can lead to another and — who knows! Perhaps we can all go back to norm—“

“Silence!” The Beast hisses, making the candelabra cower back. “She may hear you!”

“Sorry, sorry,” the candelabra soothes, “But you know what I’m saying. I know she’s been here all but an hour tops, but we’ve not had a human girl in the castle since this whole thing started!” 

“I am well aware of that, Stephen.”

“So, why don’t you put on the old Munson charm and start by showing her your shining personality at dinner, huh?”

The Beast hesitates, looking at the handle of your door for a moment before pushing the door open, eyes squeezed shut to keep his mind focused to not mess up this request. 

“If it’s not too much to ask will you—“

The shriek of your voice commands the Beast’s eyes to open, only to cover them with his hand just as quickly as he realizes you’re in the middle of redressing. All he could see was the bare of your back as you were turned away, petticoat covering your lower half, but it was more than enough for him to go red in the face. Slamming the door shut with a force that almost took it off the hinges, the Beast’s breathing picks up as he thinks of a way to rectify the situation. 

“YOU WILL JOIN ME FOR DINNER IN ONE HOUR!!” He shouts at the door, quickly turning heel and booking it to his quarters. 

You stand there, stunned in the center of your room as you process what just transpired. You’re not sure how much he saw of you, if any, but you’re thankful now that you were facing away from him as your cheeks had just started to stain with the hot tears that spilled.

In the small bit of time you had alone, you began to spiral. The reality of your situation came crashing down on you as you stand in not your bedroom as you’re about to change into not your clothes, and get into not your bed to cry into not your pillow.

Would you ever know the feeling of dewy morning grass between your toes again? Do the sun's warm rays even reach within these walls? Will you ever feel the leather binding of a book again? Trapped within these walls every day with only your memories of every book you read, doomed to fade with time. 

The lump in your throat only grew as you realized that not only would you never see your father again, you likely would never see another human again, destined to live a life surrounded only by living household items that play subordinate to an actual living devil.  A devil who has lived alone with these sentient objects for who knows how long. One who you told that you would do anything he asked if he let your father go. Sure, you said you would cook and clean, but how long does that last before he’s demanding you tend to him in other ways? 

And, naturally, after having those thoughts is when he would burst into your room without knocking as you’re mid change. Clearly setting the president of how you’ll be treated in the future, your privacy meaningless to him. 

Hugging yourself tightly, you crawled into the bed made for you, burying yourself in the covers as you sob into your pillow. As you cry, you think about your father and his inventions,  Mr.Moreau and his books, Mrs.Holloway and her daughter’s bakery, about the fiery Maxine…hell, you even think about Billy Hargrove. Perhaps if you had just taken him up on his proposal, you’d at least still be able to leave your home, read your books, see your father…

“Hell yeah! I can’t wait to be human again!”

“First thing I’m going to do is find the nearest field and just lay in the grass.”

“Lay in the grass? You’re so boring! I’m gonna find a lake to swim in.”

“I just want to eat a whole loaf of Mrs.Byers baguettes to myself.”

The Beast sits at the end of the long dining room table, fingers rubbing his temples as he listens to the chattering of the younger workers of the house as they set the table. Word spread quickly as he had ordered Steve to notify the castle of its newest guest, but once the details were given, the entire house seemed to be making assumptions about what will transpire between you and him. 

He’d be foolish to ignore the possibility of what your presence here can bring to him and the residents here. It’s not a complete impossibility for the two of you to get to know each other and fall in love in less than 3 months, effectively ending the curse bestowed upon him and the rest of the castle. Even if he and most everyone else had been like this for almost five years now, not everyone had made it. Some of the older staff in his manor passed in their non-human state, leaving the world behind as regular inanimate objects rather than as the humans they had been born as. 

It was a fate that loomed over the castle since his 18th birthday. One that was promised to become permanent if he was unable to fix his ways and truly understand love by his 23rd birthday. 

A task that seems to be more and more impossible as the time ticks away without you making your presence for dinner. The Beast wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, probably a little uncomfortable after walking in on you, which he planned on apologizing for once you made your arrival at the table.

As the hands on his clock friend tick behind him, he gets more and more into his own head with your absence. Because, of course you wouldn’t want dinner with him. He was a scary, terrifying monster, who you were clearly only being nice to out of fear. It’s instinctual for humans to do what they can for survival. In your eyes was going to let your father rot in a cell until he died. There’s no way you could feel anything other than contempt for him, so why the hell would he even entertain the idea of you potentially falling in love with him?

The Beast stands abruptly from his chair, knocking over the food and drink that has long gone cold in front of him. The objects all watch him from the cracked kitchen door as he takes off. How could you so blatantly disregard his invitation to dinner? He has been nothing but kind to you and you repay him by making a fool of him in front of the expecting castle residents. With every step, he feels his blood boiling more and more, his vision going red as he approaches your door. 

The loud knocking at your door wakes you from your sleep. You hadn’t realized that you had fallen asleep, eyes stinging and sore from crying when you rub them. The knocking turns into banging, and once you gain some cognizance, you leap up from your bed and rush to open it. 

On the other side is the Beast, his face contorted in such a way that makes you gasp. His labored breathing flares his nostrils, his fists are clenched tightly at his sides only furthering his intimidating demeanor as he stares you down. 

It takes him a moment to finally speak, doing his best to gather his thoughts as he looks at you in your puffy, red rimmed eyes. 

“Do—do you take me as a fool?” He shouts, hand gesturing to himself. His words have you reeling back, unsure of what he’s talking about.

“Wh-what?”

 “I told you dinner would be ready in an hour!” he continued shouting, “Everyone was excited to have you join us tonight, making you a meal fit for kings in their delight. All the while I sat and waited for you to show, watching them parade around and speak freely, only to be humbled by your lack of presence at the table.”

You blink rapidly as he berates you, hardly able to understand the level of anger he’s giving you over missing a meal. It wasn’t purposeful, you falling asleep. But after the day you’ve had and the rollercoaster of emotions you’ve been put through it shouldn’t be a surprise that you had dozed off. Tears bubble at your waterline again and you feel like you’re going to be sick. Grabbing the handle of the door, you swing it shut in the midst of the Beast’s tantrum and rush to the nearest, non-sentient side table to push in front of the door. You can hear him shouting on the other side, and you cover your ears to drown him out. 

“THE NERVE OF HER!” The Beast roars outside of your bedroom door. He turns to the objects that followed him from, pointing to your door. “From here on out, if she does not eat with me, then she does not eat at all!” He pushes past them in a huff, retreating back to the west wing and leaving them in his wake.

You don’t know how long you sat there rocking back and forth with your hands over your ears, stopping only when you noticed that the yelling had ceased. You sat there even longer until you were sure the coast was clear, jumping up to  gather as much material that was left behind as you could. With shaky hands, you begin tying them together to fashion a rope with the fabrics. Taking them out to the balcony, you tie the fabrics to the banister and let it fall over. There would still be a bit of a fall before you hit the ground, but not enough to do any serious harm, any injury worth it to escape this place.

Taking a deep breath, you hoist yourself up onto the ledge and swing your legs around. They dangle under you, your vision tilting as you look down at how far you really are from the ground, making yourself dizzy. You almost miss how far you’ve started leaning forward, catching yourself just in time before you fall. Except that you overcorrect yourself, causing you to fall backwards onto the balcony floor with a thwump, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Is everything alright in there?” You hear a voice call from the other side of your bedroom door. After a moment, you pull yourself up with a groan, rubbing the back of your head before moving to the door. 

“Y-yes, everything is fine,” you lie unconvincingly. 

There’s a silent pause before the voice speaks again, too mature to be Robin, but sweet and caring sounding nonetheless. “May I come in, dear?” It asks, a tinge of concern still lingering in its request. You cave, pushing the side table back to its original spot. The door swings open on its own, taking you by surprise as a cart with a teapot and two cups. You notice that the small tin is with them as well, bouncing with excitement as she sees you. 

“Hi!” She says in a hushed squeal. “We missed you at dinner!”

“El,” one of the cups says with a nudge.

“What?” 

“It’s so nice to meet you dear,” the teapot says to you, ignoring the bickering behind her. “We’re so happy to have a guest in the castle again. It’s been so, so long since we’ve had the pleasure of a face like yours in these walls.”

“Oh, um thank you…” you say with a drawn out questioning tone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, where is my mind today? My name is Joyce,” She turns to face the other three objects on the table, “these two are my sons, Jonathan and Will. And you've met out dear El.” The two teacups greet you, one cup seeming more enthusiastic than the other. You introduce yourself to them, “it’s…very nice to meet you.”

 The teapot moves back a little on the tray as you speak to the other three. You miss the way she looks past you, the joyful expression on her face dropping into something more like concern. 

“I’m sorry about the master’s temper,” says to you suddenly. “He’s got a lot of…pressure on him right now. It’s not an excuse for him to take it out on you, but if you could just give him another chance I know you’ll be surprised at how sweet he can be.”

The two teacups let out small snorts, clearly trying to suppress their giggles. “Boys,” the teapot shoots them a look, and they try to straighten themselves out, their smiles twitching with their efforts. 

“Wait,” the tin bounces to the edge of the cart, peering behind you and out the open balcony doors. “Why are your bed sheets hanging out there?”

The room is silent. You’ve been caught red handed, unable to come up with a good enough lie to cover your carelessness. 

“He was going to let my father die in his cell,” is all you say, your voice low, eyes lower as you keep your eyes on the ground. You hear some shuffling on the cart, fully prepared to hear it take off down the hall and straight to the west wing. 

“Well,” the voice of the teapot sighs, dejected. “Guess we better get you fed and get something for you to take on your journey then, hmm? Come on, now.” The cart begins to move seemingly on its own, rolling out of your bedroom door with the objects on top. 

“Wait,” you call to them, “You’re…not going to tell your master I’m escaping?” 

“Psshh, no,” the teapot says as if the situation wasn’t a possibly life threatening one.  “If you want to go, we won’t stop you. I’m sure your father is worried sick about you as it is, and if it were my kids in your shoes…” 

“Thank you.” You mean it, truly and sincerely. “But, will you all not get in trouble for helping me?”

“Master is a lot of bark, but not a lot of bite,” the younger sounding teacup says.

“He’s kind of a dick if you ask me—”

“Jonathan!”

“Sorry, mom, sorry,” the other teacup says as the teapot blows steam from her stout. The tin and other teapot start laughing, seemingly contagious as you start to laugh as well. You follow them down the halls and a few stairs until you stand at a large set of doors. They push open, revealing a huge, beautifully dark dining room with a long table in the center. Each side had 12 chairs, with two larger, more ornate captains chairs at each end.

One of them is placed directly in front of the fireplace, and you wonder if the throne-like seat is where your father sat when the Beast mentioned that your father sat in his chair. You take a mental note not to get too close to that end of the table, going for a seat in a side chair before you’re stopped. 

“Ah, ah,” a familiar voice calls out to you as the candelabra books it towards you. “You, dear guest, get the second best seat in the house.” He blows out his candles and pulls the captain's chair out for you to take a seat in. You hesitantly oblige, thanking him as he attempts to push your chair in, returning the favor by picking him up and placing him on the table. 

“About time you joined us,” he elbows the air next to you teasingly. You roll your eyes at him, earning a laugh from him in return. “Well, better late than never. Come on,” he yells out towards the kitchen door, “let's get this girl some food! Chop, chop, people!”

The whole room comes alive right before your eyes. Pots and pans, forks and knives, plates and bowls, all moving and dancing around you as the table starts to set itself. Trays of food fly in and begin to fill up the table. The room is filled with laughter and talking as if it was full with an entire staff catering to you, meanwhile, from the outside it would look like you were completely alone. Food is piled on your plate; chicken, pork, potatoes, vegetables, and more. Bottomless bowls filled with soups and salads, and a seemingly unlimited amount of breadsticks are all placed in front of you, and who are you to turn it all down?

More objects introduce themselves to you as you eat the most amazing food you’ve had in your whole life. Friends with the tin and the teacup, a small gaggle of teens ask you questions about the places you’ve been to and what you like to do for fun. Most of them call you boring when you tell them you like to read, but when you recount some of the stories to them, it seems to catch their attention. 

The candelabra and clock introduce you to more objects closer to your age, including the vase that helped the clock make your bed earlier, who seemed to be very close when the others aren’t looking. 

“This is my sweet girl, Chrissy,” the candelabra says with pride as he stands with the featherduster. 

“We’ve met already, Steve,” she laughs, “Catch up with the rest of us!”

The candelabra runs off behind the featherduster, chasing her with the flames of his candles down to the other end of the table. 

With the warm welcome from the wonderful inhabitants of the castle, you almost forget about the reason why you’re even here. How just a few hours ago you had no idea that objects could have personalities more pleasant than half of the town you live in. That a castle falling apart could feel so homely with the right people living in its walls. It makes you wonder how the hell these lovely people can stand to be here when the head of the castle is a mean, rude, irritable demon.

The flights of wine don’t let you forget. With each passing sip, you grow more and more bold in your thoughts, mixing with the rambunctious atmosphere that had you questioning who the hell that beast is for locking you up. For locking your father up. 

Once you hit the bottom of the bottle that you snagged when no one was paying attention, you set the bottle down and quietly slip from your seat, letting the lively chatter serve as a distraction. Closing the door to the dining hall gently, you make your way up the stairs and down the hall, stumbling quite a bit on the way, until you make it to the red curtains that close off the west wing. The velvet feels nice in your hands, the curtains themselves feeling heavy in your grasp as if they’re weighted.

Pushing past them to the other side, you curse yourself for not grabbing a candle on your way up as you fumble into the darkness on the other side. It’s pitch black once the curtain falls into place, leaving you unable to see your surroundings. So you do the one thing that makes sense; you grab the heavy curtain and pull it open as hard as you can. Unfortunately, you lose your footing causing you to fall and bring the curtains and the rod down with you. 

Fighting your way out of the heavy material, you’re graced with the ability to see once again. But when you get a look at what the curtain was hiding, you instantly regret your choice to allow light to enter this hall.

The half moon entrance is full of paintings of gruesome monsters mauling and devouring humans, busts of terrifying creatures like that you’ve never seen, and rogue bones of all shapes and sizes encased in glass boxes are on display. The free spaces between the macabre decor show a blood red reflective wallpaper with symbols or letters that you’re unable to decipher. It’s all too much for you to take in, instantly putting you into fight or flight mode. But under the guise of your tipsy mind, you decide not to run away like a normal person would. Rather, you run to the door in front of you, pushing it open and stumbling inside the room on the other side.

As you take a moment to regain your composure, you let your eyes roam over the moon lit room around you. It’s easy to guess that this must be the Beast’s bedroom. It seems tame compared to what you had just witnessed before entering, the large, unmade bed being the scariest thing you see off the bat, followed by the various articles of clothing that are strewn across the floor in various piles. The portraits in this room have been ripped to shreds in their frames, the walls around them covered in deep scratch marks. A vanity sits across the room from the bed, the mirror completely missing from the frame and all of the items on top knocked over on their sides and covered in cobwebs. 

A small shelf tucked into a corner catches your eye. You don’t think twice before rushing to it, dropping to your knees to get a better look. Each shelf is filled to the brim with books of different shapes and sizes, and you’re shocked to find books that you’ve never even heard of before. Pulling a few that catch your eye, you flip through the pages without second thought to where you are. 

But as you skim the pages of an open book, you notice the way the light in the room shifts from the white of the moonlight to a soft pink glow. You let your eyes follow the source of the light coming from the set of double doors beside you. Upon further inspection, you lean over to see that just outside the doors is a balcony, much bigger than the one in the room you were put in, with a small stone pillar in the center. Atop the small pillar is the source of the light, but when you realize what it is, you wonder if maybe you actually are dreaming. Because a glowing rose that sits suspended within its glass case is apparently the thing that finally questions your sanity. 

Regardless, curiosity gets the better of you.

Pushing through the doors, you approach the rose slowly, cautiously. As if your mere presence would be enough to make the rose wilt away. A few dried petals sit at the bottom of the glass leaving you to believe that it is still just a rose. A rose that, even with magic, will one day die. You wonder what happens when a magic rose like this may die. 

“Such a wonderful site,” you coo at the rose, reaching for the glass. “Of course the Beast would let your petals sit in your case. I suppose if he can’t even clean up his clothes then he surely isn’t going to clean up a flower. Maybe if I just--”

A thump from the edge of the balcony startles you, almost causing you to knock the glass from the stand. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” The Beast roars, launching at you in an instant. His eyes are wild, brows furrowed in anger as he pushes himself between you and the rose, wrapping his arms around the case protectively. His breathing is heavy and erratic, as if he’s just finished running a mile. 

“Where were you?! What are you doing here?! Were you trying to steal my rose?!” The questions come out in rapid succession, each one more aggressive than the last. Your head spins for a moment as your mind tries to catch up with the line of questioning.

“Wait, hold on,” you say, shaking your head and waving your hands defensively. “I wasn’t trying to steal anything. I was going to clean out the dead petals that you’ve left to rot in there. How are you going to have a beautiful magic rose and just let its look be tarnished by dead petals?”

“Because they’re not supposed to come out!” His breath is hot on your face as he gets closer. “They’re there to remind me of the time that has passed since I’ve received it! This is why I do not let anyone in the west wing! Which you still have not answered why you’re here, after I told you only mere hours ago that you are not to enter this area of the castle. Look at how large this castle is.”

The Beast gestures behind him. When you take a step forward, your jaw drops at the sight of the castle grounds as it appears before you. The castle itself is a large square, its walls surrounding a center courtyard that contained a labyrinth of vine covered shrubbery, an overgrowth governed gazebo, and several broken and crumbling statues. The courtyard itself had to be at least 100, if not 200 yards across from what you could tell, the view you had was high enough that you could see just about everything from here.

Including your own balcony, where your bedsheets are still flowing in the breeze.

“Were you looking for me?” You ask suddenly, not turning to look at him as he answers.

“Yes!” He shouts, exasperated, pacing back and forth. “Tell me why I walk out here to get some air after you had rudely ditched me at dinner, only to find you were trying to escape with only your flimsy bed sheets to hold you up. My first assumption was that you’re stupid ass fell and you were dead on the ground. So I rushed down to see if maybe you had survived your fall. 

“But, of course, you were nowhere in sight, so my next assumption was that you had escaped and went to find your horse. But I found that foolish creature eating at my rose bushes, and had to shew him away. Then, I assumed that since you were dumb enough to escape the way you did, that you also thought you could get back to your village on foot. So I had to rush back here to get my things to go and find you, lest you end up being dinner for a pack of hungry wolves!”

The blood starts to boil in your veins as he talks. Was he so hell bent on keeping you as a prisoner that he would go to any lengths to keep you here? “You were going to try and find me?” You ask in disbelief, making him stop in his tracks. “Does the idea of losing your precious prisoner drive you so mad that you were going to drag me back here against my will?”

“Wh-what?! No! Did you not listen to a word I just said? I was trying to--”

“Save it!” You shout back at him, “I’m not as foolish as you think I am. And I’m certainly not going to just stand here and let you continue to bully me or-or scare me into staying here!” You stomp to him, closing the gap between you. “I don’t know what makes you think you’re so high and mighty, thinking you can just decide that someone is to stay here forever. Well, guess what? I don’t care if you’re the Duke of Wellington, as soon as I leave this wing, I’m heading straight for the door and leaving this castle. And you can try as you might to bring me back, hell, you may even be successful! But I will continue to find a way to leave this place, even if it means the end of my life, because I would rather die than be stuck here with a monster like you!”

The words hit him like running into a brick wall. He had been both right and wrong about you. Your kindness towards him was just a front to protect yourself. There was no way he could be anything other than a horrible monster to you. Everyone’s excitement was for nothing.

When you push past him, back through his room with the slam of the door behind you, he doesn’t flinch once. Numbness takes over, the same one that he felt when he first became the monster that he is now. The feeling that he’s only reminded of when people accidently wander through his castle’s doors, usually scared out before they can get too far once he makes his presence known. Never even given the chance to explain his affliction to them before they’re running away with their tails between their legs. 

Meanwhile, you rush back down into the main entrance, not even realizing that you’ve passed the candelabra and the clock in the hall. “Wait, wait!” They call out, but you have to ignore them. You can’t let them try to convince you to stay with their good company. You reach the door, the coat rack pleading with you as you reach the door. “I’m sorry! I don’t belong here!” You shout as you push the door open, rushing down the broken steps and into the main courtyard that you saw when you first arrived. You whistled into the fog for Phillip, only a few beats passing before he made his way to you, a rose still between his lips as he approached. You mount him quickly, grabbing the broken remains of his reins once more.

“Go! Take me home, Phillip!” 

You don’t have to tell him twice, the sound of Phillip’s hooves hitting cobblestone as he takes off towards the gates and into the woods once more. 

tags: @edsforehead @gravedigginbbydoll @thebookowal @littleweenybabyangel @eddiemunson95 @strangerfreak @gemofthenight @hideoutside @etherealglimmer @yearwalker96 @bietchz @chevelle724 @secretdryrose @mischievouscanadian @storiesbyrhi @live-love-be-unique @stayonmars @mrsjellymunson @chrissymjstan @razzeith @mynameismothra @luluz-u @geekmom3 @eddiesguitarskills @aol19 @killing-my-soul @jjsbongwater @chaoticgood-munson @onegirlmanytales @skrzydlak @ali-r3n @peea90 @xxhellfiregirlxx @eddiesgirlforever

[protectingrose]

🥵🥵

in a dark, dark room (kas!eddie) (dark)

inspo from this audio by eyesofsuggestion on reddit.

your boyfriend isn't as he seems. looks like someone else is along for the ride in his earthly vessel, someone you've never met but whose been dying to meet you. tw: 21+ and especially minors dni. this dark fic features dub-con and is not recommended reading for those who are sensitve to dub-con and non-con themes in fanfiction. this fic features: dub-con, blood play, blood drinking, rough p in v sex, choking, name calling, taunting, mocking, light smacking. pretty blatant monster fucking. read at your own risk.

there is just so much blood.

you lay there, limp, feeling the sheets soak beneath you slowly. warm and thick, staining the floral pattern fabric, turning white roses red with little mercy. he leans down a second time, gasping with need, long tongue sliding over the puncture wounds in your jugular before sinking in again. you cry out, pushing at him desperately, making him growl with frustration when his hands come to hold you down by the bends in your arm. talons that have grown sharp and long bite into your skin with the same sting as his teeth.

"please stop," you choke out, haze gathering at the edges of your vision. you feel the rush of blood pull from your neck while he keeps drinking, breaking away to nose at your jaw and cheek. "please stop," he taunts back, tongue laving over you again, "can't stop, sweetheart. not when you taste so good." you try to brace yourself for his third bite down but it doesn't come. his lower lip drags over your skin, slick with slimy drool while his mouth becomes accustomed to the long fangs growing over his lower gums. he takes a sharp inhale, taking another break from his fill, pushing up on his arms where they hold you at the elbows. he smirks down at you, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight pouring into your room. this was not the eddie you were used to. sweet and mild mannered, always letting you take the lead. he bought you flowers on your second date and dinner on your third. soft and gentle in everything he did, warm to the touch. forehead kisses before bed. desperate for you. but not like this. "what's that face for, huh?" he asks, voice a deep husk, vibrating with something else -- something darker, "scared'a me?"

you nod with a whimper, weak with blood loss. you can feel your hot tears leak down into your hairline, over your ears. "m'gonna die ed," you croak out. "hmm," he hums with a tut, shrugging, "maybe. but you'll be alive for what's next." "well, barely," he smiles, teeth gleaming with blood and spit. he lets go of your arms when he knows you can move them, gouges left in their wake when he does. you aren't sure if there's any more blood left to let out. he shifts above you, pulling you to the edge of the bed when he stands over your broken form. what happened? you think. he'd come over like he always had. you made dinner together, watched creepshow, he complained about work, he told you about a show he had coming up. when you went upstairs tonight it wasn't uncommon for you both to fool around. you're used to him clinging to you, holding you, burying his face in your neck. it was when you heard the rattle of his breath and the flap of leathery wings that your eyes flew open to this -- to some monster.

you look at him now as he towers above you. the puncture in your neck pulses, the scratches on your body sting from when he pulled you down and held you in place when you tried to run away. gripping and grabbing to keep you under him until you succumbed, teeth sinking deep into you. "you miss him, huh?" he asks, the blue of his veins showing up under his tattoos in a maze. he parts your thighs, looking down at your naked core hungrily. his dark eyes flick up, catching yours, "you can't lie, i can hear you in there."

you nod again and it aches, stretching the holes over your veins. "aww, poor thing," he pouts, a finger reaching out to trace along your inner thigh. you shiver at the touch, cold and biting, "he misses you, too."

"who are you?" "i'm who he really is, honey," he coos, "your boy's just a cover. you think he came out of that accident without some screws loose?" you whimper when he touches the seam of your thigh, "at least he picks 'em pretty for me." you look down at your body, splashed with your blood and a sheen of sweat.

"if it makes it easier for your dumb little head to understand," he starts, taloned hand reaching out to smack lightly against your cheek, "let's just say i hitched a ride when he got out of hell."

"and baby," he says, suave and sure, "i've been so patient with wanting to get a taste of you. he's been putting up such a fight trying to keep me away."

you fade in and out, feeling him take your thighs in each of his hands to pull your flush to him. they run up over your hips, sliding over the stickiness on your skin.

"whining about how i eat girls like you for breakfast," he snickers and takes a beat, "actually -- he's not wrong. i do do that."

"but you've been on my mind, sweetheart," he nods, letting go with one hand while he reaches for his cock. your mind races when you see it, thicker than the one you're used to -- monstrous almost, "been really needing a toy to play with on this side."

"and you're just so easy, huh?" he says, brows tilting while he mocks you, "he'd do anything for you. can you do this for him? he knows just how you like it -- i can do that, too."

"eddie--" you rasp, arm weakly reaching up to push his hand away while a fingertip drags through your folds.

"please baby, call me kas," he grins with a smarmy flair, "eddie's my host's name."

"what is it, hm?" he asks, catching your gaze in his, "you don't want it?"

you shake your head no, eyes snapping shut when he drags two claws lightly over your cheek, over the tendon in your neck that he hadn't bitten through. they follow down over your collar bone, down your chest, your rib cage, the touch making your back arch up to him when he applies just enough pressure to make it sting.

his giggle is dark and deep seated in his chest, "i can see what you're thinking. you don't wanna like it -- but it looks like you're just beggin' for it, aren't you?"

his hand grips your hip, the tip of his cock sliding from the top of your slit to the bottom with steady guidance. he slides it again against the slick while it builds, body betraying you while arousal overtakes your fear. in the haze it could still be him, it could still be eddie.

"hm, he likes it when you're on top, doesn't he?" kas laughs haughtily, "loves looking up at you. what's he call you, again? oh that's right -- his goddess, his angel." "that's not how it's gonna go tonight, though, is it?" he asks, fat tip of his cock pushing in between your thighs, "no, you're gonna be my pretty whore. gonna be a good 'n' weak, needy toy for me."

"right?"

tears prick your eyes at the stretch of just his tip, unsure of how the rest of him will fit without ripping you apart. his hands come to your thighs, pushing them up against your sticky chest. you nod slowly, the rest of your body on fire with pain from his previous assault.

"m'gonna split you open," he nods, pushing in slowly while your walls stretch to accomodate him. your back arches with whatever strength you have left, whines and whimpers pouring out of your mouth. his claw sink into the fat of your thighs, blood pooling from the divots and dripping down over the meat of your ass.

"hmm," he hums while he pushes in to the base, "he loves this pussy. i can see why."

kas's thrusts start slow, claws digging into your skin with each slick squelch deep inside you. he leans forward, wings spreading behind him while he picks up a steady speed. his gaze is certain, tawny circles around his eyes making it seem like they're deeper set. he touch his cold, skin chilling you while he presses himself along your body.

"oh he let's you choke him out, huh?" he snickers, eddie's memories flicking through his mind like a rolodex, "he let's you tell him what to do? that's cute."

kas's clawed hand reaches up to curl around your throat, thumb narrowly missing the puncture wounds he left behind. with new leverage his pace quickens, "we're gonna fix that about you."

"you're gonna be," he begins, cock unforgiving in it's relentless punches in and out of you, "my pretty little courtesan -- hmm fuck -- you're gonna do what i say, when i say it. sounds nice, doesn't it?"

you whine, reaching for his wrist, weakly pawing at it before it lays limply by your side. 

"c'mon -- you don't wanna think anymore, do you?" he coos, "just wanna -- shit, yes -- wanna lay there and be my plaything." he readjusts, pushing one leg up so your knee hooks over his shoulder. the angle hits something in you that makes you desperate for more, a whiny moan pouring from your mouth. "oh there she is," he grins, "yeah, that's what you wanna hear huh? locked up and away so i can have you whenever. use you -- breed you." a needy moan escapes again, your body twitching alive while he pumps into you. your hips roll while he does, energy creeping into your veins, warming your skin. you're not sure how, not with all the blood you've lost -- but if this is what it costs to survive, you'd let him use you like this all night. "oh you nasty fucking bitch," he laughs, breaths huffing against your cheek, "dirty fucking girl, letting me all the way in. that’s what you want, huh? to get pumped full’a me? be a blood machine – hm?" "mmm ed, please more," you rasp out, needy for him to go deeper, harder. his grip tightens over your throat, your tongue lolling out in need for more air, "what's my name?" you choke out something inaudible, haze sliding over your vision again while he glares down at you. the pressure increases, blood leaking out from your jugular while he shoves you into the mattress. "huh?! what's my name?" "k-kas," you push out when he loosens his grip. 

"much better, sweetheart," he hums, "much better." he keeps you pinned down tight, cock drilling you into the sticky sheets. his hand creeps from your throat to the back of your head, ripping at your hair to pull you back so you'll face him. he doesn't blink, hard eyes staying on yours while he pummels into you without any signs of relent. he growls and grunts with each roll of your hips to meet his thrusts, almost proud that you're chasing your own pleasure while he takes his. his hard gaze falters when you reach up to run your fingers over his face. the touch is feather light, tracing the edge of his brow bone to the side of his cheek. you know eddie's still in there, you know this is partly him. kas's gaze softens for a moment and you swear eddie is looking back at you. you lean in, aching for a kiss, for something gentle amongst the horrific night you've had so far. "oh no, baby," he whispers, forehead pressing to yours. his ragged breaths mix with the wet squelches of him fucking into you, now as easy as if you've always taken him -- like you're used to his size.

"i don't kiss my toys," he hums, "that’s only for real mates." "and to be honest, sweetheart -- you're too pathetic for that."

your nearly pouty face is delicious to him, the hurt flashing through your mind feeds him as much as your blood has. he ducks down again to lick the dribble from your wounds, his wet tongue slippery over the sweat collecting there while he hovers over you. how can such a cold body make you so warm? "but you're so special to him," he gravels in your ear, "he loves you, doesn't he?"

"y-yeah," you whimper out. "well," he purrs, "that's too bad."

his speed quickens and your breath hitches, his body bends and contorts in a way that's nearly inhuman, fucking deeper and deeper into you with each painful snap of his hips. "you're all mine now," he growls, arm hooking under your waist to lift you up part way. your bottom half floats off the bed with his strength beneath you, so numb with pleasure you can't feel the way his claws dig into you again. you can't feel this teeth sink into your calf while he grinds into you, barely pulling out just to push in again. "m'yours," you squeak out, "m'yours, m'yours, m'yours -- oh god -- fuck, ohmygod fuck -- kas -- KAS." with a sudden burst of energy you reach up while the peak of your orgasm hits like a freight train, tightening hard over his cock. our nails dig into the cold skin of his forearms, over his tattoos, dragging down hard and tight. he sputters and smirks at the stingy pain of your clawing at him, the feeling spurring him on as he fucks you through your writhing release. "just like that," he huffs, droplets of blood flicking from his tongue onto your chest and sternum. his leathery wings tuck in to rest like hooks out of his shoulder baldes while he cages you in against the bed, eyes shut in concentration while he pumps in again, and again. with a final rough tug of your hair you hear and feel his guttural release. the only warmth from him being the sticky seed that he spills inside of you, cold mouth clamping down again on your neck for a final taste before his release comes to a close. you're back to laying limp on the bed. spent. he looks over you, growls and grumbles in his breath, clicking and seething -- this must be his natural state. "well weren't you fun," he grins, sick but sweet, "i'll have to try you again." you whimper, unable to move this time, to think, to breathe. "but i think i you taste better a little scared," he nods, "gotta make sure you forget this so you can struggle like you did tonight. that's -- oh sweetheart, it's just delicious." when your eyes meet his again you can't look away, not that you'd want to -- he's beautiful like this. hair long and brushing his built shoulders, skin so pale it's nearly blue, eyes dark and glittering with angry satisfaction. eddie who? you think. "adorable," he says smugly when he hears it in his head, "don't worry, i'll let that pathetic weakling have you back. he's miserable in here right now." you don't know if it's hyponosis or the exhaustion from losing so much of your blood supply, but sleep comes quickly -- fading out while he holds your gaze, words you don't understand filling your ears and thoughts -- latin maybe? you couldn't guess. you're just so comfortable. so tired. and the bed is so soft, so warm. you have to sleep, right? you've been asleep this whole time.

you wake up in the morning feeling tired, mouth dry and tangy. your joints ache, your stomach rumbles. you look over on your nightstand to two empty bottles of wine, two empty glasses next to them. when you sit up you look down, seeing that half of one of those bottles never made it to your lips -- your stained sheets shine back a purple red in your eyes. with a groan you turn over, sinking back into the covers, feeling the warm body of your boyfriend next to you. his dark curly hair pulled up in a ponytail, splayed across the pillow. the night is hazy: dinner, creepshow, wine, kissing. when you both got upstairs you were tipsy -- you vaguely remember the spill of the wine, the drunk giggles, the way his mouth tasted like aged cabernet. both falling asleep before you could take it any further. he stirs next to you, smiling when he sees you with a rub of his eyes. "morning, angel," he says in a yawn. "morning," you sigh, running a hand over your neck to rub at the muscles there -- aching and tense. "you okay?" he asks, turning over to face you, two fingers tracing over your cheek. "yeah just -- i think i slept weird," you shrug, "i'm definitely hung over." eddie laughs, "me too."

"we didn't -- we didn't fool around last night, right?" you ask, "we both knocked out pretty early." "i remember spilling the wine and then both of us saying we'd deal with it in the morning," he sniffs before stretching out, "and then i think i fell asleep in the wine stain." you giggle, feeling his arms wrap around you. warm body against yours, he kisses you soft on the forehead, "you look pretty." "thank you," your sleepy smile makes him smile back. "you know what i'm in the mood for?" he asks, "such a weird craving but they knock a hangover right out of me." "hm?" "a bloody mary," he says with raised brows, like he's surprised with himself, "i think i got some stuff downstairs to make them." "i'm not really into bloody mary's," you say with a scrunched nose. he offers you another kiss on the forehead before slowly climing out of bed. he shrugs looking down at you, pulling on his abandoned pair of boxers from yesterday, "hm, suit yourself. more for me then." when he snaps the band at his hips, you notice it. even sets of scrapes down his forearms toward his watch, your brow quirks, "hey, what happened to your arm?"

he looks down, and at first you think you catch a flicker of a smile before it turns into a confused frown, "weird...i don't know, sweetheart." he looks at both arms all the way around before turning to look at you, almost coolly, "maybe we did fool around."

[protectingrose]

Omfg ! This is amazing! I can’t wait for more chapters ❤️

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡 - What's Said is Said

(Goblin King!Eddie X AFAB/Fem!Henderson Reader)

Edited by the lovely: Jen

(please go and check out her stuff its amazing and without her you wouldn't be reading this right now.)

Content: Slow-burn, one-sided pining from Eddie, love at first sight, angst, swearing, minor injury, blood, minimal to no use of Y/n

Summary: You never believed the story you told your little brother would end up becoming a reality, so when a mysterious man named Eddie claims to be the Goblin King after your brother goes missing, you can't help but be skeptical- but he's handsome, and you can't help but fall under his spell. One thing is for sure, though- you need to find Dustin, no matter the cost.

A/n: This will most likely be the only time I put one of these at the start of the fic. But the start of this is FINALLY here, I'm sorry it took so long to come out me and my editor have been busy and only recently have we gained some free time to finish this chapter. This idea has been on my mind for months and I can't wait for you all to dive into this 80s Labyrinth inspired fic!!

Chapter 1/? {wc: 3.8k}

Part 1

        Hawkins, Indiana was no stranger to bats, especially around fall, so you paid no mind to the one that flew over your head, hanging from the very tree you relaxed under. Lover's Lake was always popular at sundown, but when the sky was still painted blue and the stars had yet to say hello, it was your secret spot, especially when you wanted to escape for a few hours to read. Your current interest was a red leather-bound book that comfortably rested between your hands.

        The title had faded from the cover, but the first page named it The Labyrinth- it was a mysterious novel with no author listed. You had saved it from the depths of your local thrift store where it had collected dust, begging for you to take it home, beckoning you to uncover its secrets. In your free time, you had thrown yourself into the book, unaware of how long you had spent underneath the tree with Dart, your golden retriever, who lay quietly beside you.

        “Give me the child.” Your words carried along the wind as you read, with theatrics fit for a proper dungeon master. At the sound of your voice, Dart’s ears perked up and he tilted his head. His wagging tail gently thumped against the dirt, mixing with the sound of small waves lapping against the bank.

        “Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child that you have stolen.”

        You turned the faded yellow page, a small smile gracing your features as Dart sat up, giving you his full attention.

        “For my will is as strong as yours, and my heart as great.”

        As if listening intently to your story, the bat hung silently overhead, its ears twitching.

        “For you will never have power over me…”

        Before you could finish the scene, a roar of thunder shook the ground, causing you to jump and shut the book with a loud thud. Dark grey clouds littered the once-blue sky, the air heavy and humid.

        The bat which had hung over you flew away, and Dart gave chase, barking in its direction.

        “Dart!” You shouted.

        Shoving the book into your bag, you bolted up from your place under the tree, your fantasy fading as you brushed the dirt from your jeans. As if the rumbling thunder and barking dog weren’t enough, your wristwatch let out a beep that was all too familiar.

        “Shit! Come on, Dart! Mom’s gonna be so pissed!”

        You pulled your bike up from the side of the tree, hopping onto the seat and peddling away. Letting out one last howl as the bat disappeared into the branches, Dart turned to run after you, and before you could even curse the sky, the rain came pouring down.

        Peddling as fast as your legs could manage, you made it into town, turning sharp corners and crossing streets, taking as many shortcuts between houses and through back-alleys as possible to avoid the downpour.

        By the time you had made it to your street and turned into your driveway, you and Dart were thoroughly soaked. Ditching your bike, you followed Dart as he ran into the garage, furiously shaking the water from his fur. Trying to catch your breath, you wiped the rain from your face, your wet clothes clinging to you uncomfortably.

        Closing the garage, you left Dart there to warm up, letting yourself inside to escape the dreary cold. Despite the warmth of the house, you shivered as your doting mother came to greet you, holding your fussy three-year-old little brother.

        “Dustin, look who's here!" She chirped. "Only twenty minutes late!”

        “I know, Mom. I’m sorry, okay?” You huffed, kicking off your wet shoes and socks. “…Put him down so he can walk- you need to stop babying him.”

        “You know I rarely get to go out with the girls…and he's still my little Dusty-Bun.”

        “You go out all the time! I’m always stuck babysitting!”

        “You know I only have you babysit when it doesn't interfere with your plans.” Your mother’s beloved ginger cat, Mews, rubbed against her leg as she held Dustin, who looked between the two of you with interest, his blue eyes staring you down.

        “Well, you didn't even ask!”

        “I assumed you would tell me if you did! I’d like you to have plans, really! You should be going out and having fun at your age- maybe meeting a boy!”

        Pushing past her, you grabbed a towel from the bathroom and stalked to your room, slamming the door shut. Everything was so infuriating. When you pulled your book out, you found that it had gotten wet, and with a huff, you threw your bag into your desk chair. Shivering, you wrung the water from your hair, quickly changing out of your soaked jeans and sweater, and into something warm and more comfortable.

        Wrapping the towel around your shoulders to catch the water still dripping from your hair, you flopped into bed, shutting your eyes and soaking in the rare quietness as raindrops pelted the window. It was nice to be left alone.

        But good things don't last, and your illusion of silence shattered when your mother eventually pushed the door open, her honey blonde hair meticulously curled, with makeup swiped on with precision, and that dress. It sparkled and shined, catching your eye the moment she walked in. It was like you were four again and watching her get ready to go out, trying on different pairs of heels as your dad struggled with his necktie.

        But you remember that you're almost nineteen now and your dad left- he left you and your pregnant mother for a woman half her age. You shook your head, trying to forget those memories, and when you finally tuned back in, your mother was at the end of her usual speech.

        “-back by midnight, I already fed Dustin and put him in his playpen. Make sure to tuck him in, alright? You know he's still scared of thunder. I love you…both of you.”

        The older woman was closer to you then you realized as she leaned down to kiss your forehead, though she left the room quickly, her high heels muffled by the carpeted halls. You heard her walk to the garage, start the car, and disappear into the evening, leaving you alone with your little brother.

        Letting out a frustrated sigh, you went looking for a hairdryer, laying your poor book across your desk and peeling the damp pages apart. Finding your mother's on the bathroom counter, you plugged it into the wall and with a whir, began wafting hot air over the wet book, hoping it wasn't too badly damaged.

        A sudden clap of thunder shook the house, and as you jumped, Dustin shrieked at the top of his lungs. The cry was ear-piercing and nearly drowned out the roar of the hairdryer- you could hardly hear yourself think.

        With a frustrated groan, you switched it off, stomping to the living room. Dustin's playpen sat in the corner, filled with colorful plastic toys and stuffed animals that had once been yours. He stood at the edge of the pen with outstretched arms, red-faced and wailing your name as tears poured down his cheeks, his blanket laying forgotten on the ground.

        Clicking your tongue, you gently picked Dustin up and carried him to your mother's room, with Mews silently watching from the sofa. He clung to you for dear life, his cries shattering your eardrums as another crack of thunder rang out.

        “Come on Dustin, stop crying! You're a big boy now, you can't be afraid of thunder!” Your voice was stern, which only seemed to make him wail louder, snot dripping from his nose.

        Sitting him on his racecar bed, you grabbed a tissue box from your mother's nightstand. Wiping his face, you made him blow his nose, your patience wearing thin as the tears kept coming. After disposing of the tissues, you tucked him under his blanket, sitting on the edge of his bed.

        “Fine, do you want a story?!”

        Sniffling, Dustin nodded, his small hands tightly gripping the blanket.

        “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young girl whose mother always made her stay home with the baby. The baby was a spoiled child and had everything for himself, so the girl was practically forgotten.”

        Thunder roared and a flash of lightning illuminated the room, making Dustin bolt upright, his eyes glassy and full of fear.

        “But what no one knew was that the King of Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and she too had fallen for him, granting her certain powers.” You waved your hands for effect, trying to distract him.

        A crash of thunder rang out, and Dustin whined fearfully, still sniffling.

        “So one night, when the child had been left to his older sister, she called upon the goblins for help…”

        “Listen!” The nest stirred- they were all awake now, eyes wide and ears pointed in her direction.

        “Wha happen?” Dustin lisped in a small voice, his hand reaching for yours and gripping it tightly.

        “'Say your right words,' the goblins said, 'and we shall take the baby to the Goblin City and you…will be free.'”

        The goblins gasped, their crazed red eyes staring at you from their disgusting nest in the Goblin King’s manor. Some had horns, others had sharp teeth, and some were dressed in remnants of armor, but they all had malevolent eyes, their ears prickling with excitement. They could feel the words that you wished to say but could not voice, felt the meaning, the anger, in the desire.

        “But the girl knew that the Goblin King would keep the baby in his castle forever and ever, turning him into a goblin- and so she suffered in silence.”

        “Isth da king evil?”

        “I don’t know, Dustin…but he loved the girl endlessly." You tucked him in again. "With a heavy heart, he watched the girl endure torture for months- until one day, after coming home from meeting with the Goblin King did she suffer cruel and harsh words from her mother. Ungrateful she was for raising her son, the young girl could bear it no longer...”

        Your voice fell into a mere whisper, and Dustin's brown curls fell against the pillow, his eyelids struggling to stay open.

        The rain pattered against the window, and you sighed when the boy finally let go of your hand, breathing softly and evenly as his arm fell to his side. Just as you had begun to stand, the silence disappeared with a sudden strike of thunder, and Dustin's eyes shot open in terror. He screamed, desperately clinging to you as tears welled up in his eyes again.

        “Hey, it's okay!”

        You could hear Dart barking from the garage as you stood up, wrapping your arms around Dustin. Pacing the room, you hummed a melody to try and calm his frustrating cries, but he dug his face into your shoulder, soaking it with tears.

        “Come on Dustin, stop it!” Your words came out fierce, yet your actions showed otherwise.

        “It’s scawy!”

        “I know it's scary, but you're a big boy, aren't you? You need to fight the fear.”

        You tried to shush him, rocking him back and forth just like you did when he was a newborn, only he was heavier now.

        “Dustin, please be quiet…or I’ll say the words.” You looked away from him, your voice lowered.

        “Wha words...?” He sniffled.

        “I wish...no, I can't...I shouldn't..."

        “Everyone, wake up! Listen!” Every eye, every ear and every goblin was awake now.

        “Is she going to say it?!” An excited goblin asked.

        “If you would shut up, I could find out!”

        “Who are you telling to shut up?!”

        “Both of you- quiet!” Another goblin smacked the bickering pair in the head.

        Dustin hiccupped, and when another roar of thunder shook the house- the loudest of them all- did his wails reach the highest of decibels. He trembled frightfully, tears streaming down his bright red cheeks as he clung to you for dear life, burying his face in your shoulder. With a defeated demeanor, you cried out in mock sacrifice, quoting the story.

        “I can bear it no longer! Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, come and take this child far away from me!”

        “No! Don take me! I be good! Pinky!” He promised.

        “Oh, that's not it!” The goblins let out crestfallen sighs.

        “It didn't even start with ‘I wish’...”

        You clicked your tongue and cuddled him, shaking your head.

        “Oh stop it, you little gremlin- nothing will come get you. But the girl cried…Oh, I wish…I wish...”

        You knew the words but couldn't bear to say them. Anger, jealousy, and sadness filled your thoughts as you looked at your younger brother; the child which you raised, the one that stole the best years of your adolescence from you. His crying slowly ceased and his breath calmed as you held him, the weight on your shoulder heavy. He was some form of asleep, at least for now.

        With a weary sigh, you put Dustin back to bed, gently tucking him under the blanket. As the downpour became a light rain, your mind wandered to your true thoughts- the ones the goblins could clearly see.

        “I wish I could say the words to let the goblins take you away…” You muttered, grateful for the boy's soft snores that covered your frightful words.

        One goblin let out an annoyed huff, trying to spell it out for you.

        “‘I wish the goblins would take you away right now.’ Not so hard, now is it?”

        Rubbing your temples, you headed towards the door.

        The goblins watched tensely, biting their nails with chattering teeth.

        “Did she say it?” A large, dense goblin suddenly asked.

        “Shut up!" They yelled in unison.

        A sudden clap of thunder rang out, causing you to jump. Behind you, Dustin screamed in fright, crying once more, wailing for you- all your hard work wasted.

        Gripping the doorknob, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, saying the wish you had never thought you would utter aloud.

        “I wish the goblins would come and take you away…” Standing in the doorway, you heard his wails hush once again.

        The goblins were so quiet they could hear a pin drop in their nest.

        “...Right now.”

        The door shut behind you, the clouds letting out a final battle cry before plunging the house into complete silence. There were no more cracks of thunder, the rain had stopped, and you didn't hear Dustin anymore.

        As you stood outside the room, you began to worry.

        You flung open the door, eyes darting around your mother’s dark bedroom. It was silent. No whine, no cry, and no calling of your name in the midst of a frightful thunderstorm. You hurried into the room, panic overtaking your features as you pulled back Dustin’s bedsheets, your heart sinking.

        Nothing. He was gone.

        “Dustin?! Come out, this isn't funny!”

        But there was no answer- not from your brother, at least.

        The sound of laughter rang out as something scurried around the room, the closet door slamming open and shut. You spun in its direction. Nothing was there. From the corner of your eye, you saw something crawl under the sheets of your mother's bed, but when you turned to look, it had disappeared into the floor. Your fear only escalated.

        “Dustin! Where are you?!”

        The high-pitched laughter only grew louder as you panicked, anxiety coursing through your veins as you spun around the room, your heart racing in your chest. The wind raged outside as you searched for your little brother, head spinning and eyes whirling. The window panes shook and clattered, a bat slamming against the glass over and over again. You felt ready to pass out. There was too much going on.

        With a roar of thunder, the window shattered. Gasping, you shielding your face from the burst of glass shards that now littered the carpet, the raging wind chilling you to your core. You heard the flapping of wings from somewhere in the room, and when you lowered your arms, you saw the bat. It dropped to the floor in a puff of thick smoke, growing and contorting into a towering figure. Your heart stopped.

        “Jeez, took you long enough to call for me! I thought I would have to meddle a bit more.” The voice was manly, cheery, and full of mirth, the chuckle turning into a bodacious laugh.

        Fear encompassed your body as you stumbled back, tripping over a giggling goblin and falling backwards onto the carpet. A stinging pain sliced through your hands as you landed on shards of glass, but all you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

        The man was captivating, with round brown eyes that seemed almost hungry, and dark hair that framed his angular face, falling around his shoulders in loose curls. His outfit resembled something out of a Renaissance fair, with a flared poet shirt and corset, his dark pants tucked into tall lace-up boots. The long velvet cape over his shoulders sparkled and shined like the night, as if the very stars had been woven into it, extravagantly fluttering in the wind that blew through the broken window.

        “...Where is he?” You found your voice, hands trembling slightly as they balled into bloody fists.

        “Where is who?”

        “My little brother!”

        Stepping closer, the man leaned down to your level. On closer inspection, he had freckles and a fanged grin- his teeth were sharper than any human's. You glared and forced a fire to your eyes, but his held no malice as he looked you over, his gaze landing on your trembling hands.

        “Who are you?! What have you done with Dustin?!” You demanded.

        His hands seized yours and you hissed in pain, the smell of iron hitting you as he held them up, his intense eyes seeming to sparkle. You winced at the sight of the injury- glass bits were embedded into your palms and a large gash ran through the center of your left hand, blood oozing from it.

        The man gently cupped your hands, passing his fingers over the wounds with dark, concentrated eyes. The throbbing pain dissipated as you recoiled, staring down at your injured palms. Before your very eyes, the glass in them crumbled into into sand, disappearing before the grains could hit the floor, and the blood seemed to flow back into your cuts, your skin sealing itself shut.

        Shock, confusion, and panic overtook you as you began to hyperventilate, your heart pounding. How could this be? You felt the glass pierce your hands, you smelled the blood- but not even a scar had been left behind.

        You quivered, hyperaware of how close this man was to you and how he definitely wasn't human.

        “Who are you!? What are you?!”

        “Me? I’m Eddie! You should already know that much, since you're the one who invited me here! I’ve been waiting ages for your call!”

        “Invited? My call?” You stammered. “…No…you’re the Goblin King...?!”

        “The one and only!”

        “No! It was a mistake! I was only telling a story- I didn't mean it! Bring him back!” You scrambled to your feet, shoving Eddie with newfound courageous force. He stumbled, his eyebrows scrunched as he held his ground, dusting off his cape.

        “My dear, what’s said is said- you're the one who wished him away. Story or not, it was in your heart.”

        “But I didn’t mean it! Please give him back!”

        “I’m afraid I can’t do that, but I brought you something better!”

        Eddie plucked a crystal ball out of thin air, its glass catching the glimmering rays of the faded moonlight.

        “Look into it, tell it your deepest wish, and your dreams will come true. Forget about the baby~” The crystal shimmered as it called you, beckoning for you to take it.

        “All my dreams?” You reached out with a slight tremor, your voice soft.

        “Yes, all of them.”

        Blinking, you froze, fingers mere inches from the crystal- how could you forget Dustin? Dustin, your little brother, who was probably terrified, was all alone somewhere far, and here you were ready to forget him. How could you think such a thing?

        “Where is he?! Tell me now!”

        You slapped away his outstretched hand, and the crystal orb tumbled to the ground. It shattered, and you gasped as a snake sprung from the fragments. Threatening to strike at your toes, you jumped from it, and the serpent slithered away into the darkness behind you, disappearing under your mother’s dresser.

        “Your brother is in my manor. If you wish to see him again, you will have to find your way through here.”

        Eddie stepped aside, the scenery outside the window changing from the dreary darkness of Hawkins to a bright landscape with rolling hills, covered in a lush green hedge labyrinth, and at the center lay a grand manor- it was like nothing that you had ever seen before. You stepped towards the window, and your mother's bedroom disappeared from around you.

        Where was this place?

        “I'm in the mood for a little game..." Eddie leaned in, his voice like honey in your ears. "If you do not reach your brother in the next, let's say thirteen hours, he'll remain here for eternity..." An ornate clock appeared behind Eddie, the hands moving before your very eyes. "...But if you can solve my labyrinth before time runs out, then the both of you may return home.”

        You flinched, your cheeks flushed from how close he had been.

        “So, what will you do?” He whispered the question like a prayer, his sparkling chocolate eyes drawing you in, drowning you- but you had to look away, eyeing the manor from your place on top of a grassy hill.

        “It doesn't look that far…” Your voice trailed off.

        He let out a laugh that warmed your very soul, the sound deep and rich, his grin sharp and toothy.

        “It’s farther than you think. But don’t fret- I shall benevolently monitor your progress, Miss Henderson- or should I call you…” He whispered your name as if it was a sin, his lips quipping into a smirk.

        Your eyes widened- you had never told him your name.

        “How did you-?”

        His eyes twinkled mysteriously, the clock chiming as it disappeared from thin air.

        “Good luck sweetheart, you're gonna need it!” With a gust of wind and the flutter of his cloak, Eddie vanished in a cloud of mist, his voice fading from your ears.

        You stared down at the manor, the labyrinth seeming more enormous than it had at first glance.

        But you had to get to the center and find Dustin- even if it meant encountering the peculiar Goblin King again.

        Fighting off a blush, you started walking.

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