𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬:drugs, sex 18+, both are over 18, sensual tensions, blood, angst, assaults from other vampires, werewolves, dead animals, fangs, bites.
ఌ𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭
In Hawkins, darkness isn’t just a whispered myth — it pulses beneath the town’s surface, lurking in the woods, between high school hallways, and in the midnight murmurings of the Hellfire Club.
Eddie Munson has always known he was different. Born of a human mother and a vampire father who vanished long ago, Eddie is a halfblood — a forbidden, hunted creature in the eyes of the ancient vampire orders. Sheltered by his uncle Wayne and hiding in plain sight among dice, music, and high school outcasts, Eddie survives on animal blood and sheer will, keeping his true nature buried deep.
But when she arrives in Hawkins — a girl broken by divorce, hardened by silence, and sent to live with her grandparents — everything shifts. Eddie can’t read her thoughts. Her mind is a void he can’t penetrate, and her scent — sweet, fruity, intoxicating — is stronger than any drug he’s ever smoked.
The balance begins to unravel. The templar vampires have caught wind of Eddie’s existence and want him gone. The Hellfire Club hides more than friendships and fantasy games — it shields ancient pacts and blood-bound secrets. And the bond growing between Eddie and the unreadable girl might just be the match that sets their world ablaze.
In a web of forbidden hunger, hidden truths, and burning tension, the line between love and damnation wears thin — like a whisper of blood on the wind.
Chapter one Eyes don’t lie.
Chapter two A House in Nebraska.
Hi guys this is an idea that will come after the story of the emperor Geta that I’m doing in these months.
summary: "You loved him, you loved him beyond reason, selfishly, stubbornly." -nettles I
pairing: eddie munson x reader
warning: MDNI!! canon divergent(eddie lives), swearing, blood, biting, mild violence, p in v sex, reader is lowkey(highkey) delulu, probs forgetting some :/
notes: oof i hope i did this one justice i hoarded it bc i feel its not perfect but hope u all enjoy it anyways thanks for coming on this journey with me 🤎
“Come on, want to go for a walk with me?” The weather was getting slightly warmer, chillier on days when the wind blew hard and the sun began to set, which is the only time you could really take Eddie outside. He didn’t tolerate the sun, he refused to come with you when it was bright and warm and welcoming. It was better this way, easier to sneak off, easier to lie when no one was awake to lie to.
He wraps his hand around your wrist and drags you through the opening front door, “We’ll be right back.” You tell Dustin who kept true to his word and rarely left you alone in the weeks that had followed the intense 'accident' you both had called it. It hadn’t happened again, you moved slower, kept your voice low, let him chew on the spaces you could hide from sight. Dustin couldn’t keep an eye on you most of the time, but you tried to pretend you were listening to him so he didn’t tell anyone about Eddie, especially Steve. You walk with his talons around you through the field, to the treeline surrounding the forest. You know Dusrtin is watching from the radio station windows, so you duck under the cover of the foliage.
Eddie takes off, running into the trees and out of your sight, the darkness beckoning him home. “Beth is speaking more.” You tell the night, telling him anyway even if he wasn’t around. “Not coherent, but enough. She reaches her hands up to me and says ‘mama.’”
Nothing but the animals respond to you.
“I always used to imagine what our kids would look like, sound like.” You kick at the dry leaves on the ground glancing up for any sign of him. “I figured it would have been at least a nice mix of us.” You hear bark groaning, shadows moving along the branches, maybe if you believed hard enough it could be a response. “She sings, well it's not really singing, but if I close my eyes I can hear your voice with her.”
The trees consume your words with no reply.
You still, hands limp by your side. “I miss your voice, Eddie.” You say it so quietly you hope no one hears your plea. “I miss when you would rub my hair and sing to me in bed, some stupid heavy met-!”
Your body flies sideways until your back slams into a round trunk, head ricocheting off the splintering wood, his arms wrapping around you in a tight vice. He was a vine, twisting, snaking his way through your skin, taking over the blood that ran through collapsed veins. His mouth was on yours, stealing the breath from your heaving lungs, gnashing at your gums, swirling his tongue to taste every drop of spit you could give him.
You whine, hands resting on his biceps to hold yourself up as he pressed in harder on you forcing your head back to give him room to delve in deeper, to chew on your teeth, to devour your pleas for air. His nails dig into your jaw and he bites down hard on your bottom lip, the metallic taste washing into your mouth. He sucks it down, gulping the blood with a punishing grip. You don’t feel fear, you let him take, you let him take pieces of you that always belonged to him. He comes off of you, gasping quickly into the canopy of leaves above you, and he moves down your neck biting at the space beneath your jaw. “No, Eddie.” You pant. “Not there.” Because they would take him away from you if they knew. His tongue lolls against your rapid pulse, sharp teeth grazing the tender flesh that would pierce an artery. “Go easy on me.”
You close your eyes as he moves lower, as his mouth drags down your chest, hands ghosting across your breast and he tests the supple flesh with an open mouth, tempted to bite what he had consumed in a past life. He only moves lower, hiking up your shirt to burrow into your side. You wince, squeezing your eyes at the sharp pressure of his teeth. Your hand goes to his matted hair, fingers tangling in the streaks of white scattered throughout, breathing through your nose to avoid the pain.
When Eddie had fucked you, the first time, it had been slow, awkward, too much stopping and bumbling around trying to map each others bodies in the dark. It only grew from there, an intense connection between bodies, between souls that found any way to attach to one another. You grew with each other, learned with each other how to find pleasure in new ways. This was simply another way to learn him, to give him what he needed to find his way back to you.
His claws dug into your stomach and you curled against his scalp as he shoved you deeper, as he took you deeper. You were breathless, his mouth devouring flesh in a way that made heat build in your core. He shifted, his hand moving up, kneading into your breast to simply hold you still, but your head fell back with a warm whimper, hot blood seeping down your body. “Eddie.” You cover his hand with your own.
In the daze of it all you hear your name and for a moment you think it’s him, but the dark cuts with the head of a flashlight. “Eddie!” It’s Dustin, calling for you, searching for you to prevent what was currently happening.
“Eddie stop.” You gently work him off of you in dizzying pants, he elicits a low growl, but his fangs grip on your loosens. “I need this.” You pull your shirt down, tugging on his tattered jacket when his black eyes take you in. “He can’t see or else…” You use the back of your hand to wipe the blood off of your mouth, your neck. “He’ll take you away from me.” Eddie lets you work his jacket off to throw over your body relishing in the familiar scrape of leather, hiding the blood stains seeping through your shirt. The iron, the dirt, the rot floods your nose but you step closer to him using the sleeve to wipe away your blood from his mouth. “He’ll take me away from you.”
Light breaks through the gaps and Dustin lets out a relieved breath. “There you are. We should get back to the radio station.” You nod, letting Eddie’s hand wrap around you to drag you back the way he came. You wince with a sudden dip in earth before it evens out in the field, holding a hand to your side to keep pressure on the wound. You knew this would never end well, letting him chew through you to the bone, but it didn’t matter, it would never matter. He was yours, and he needed you, now more than ever, and you couldn’t handle the alternative.
“One second, Eddie.” You tell him, gently guiding his reluctant hand off of your wrist moving backwards until your clean hand slid against the wall using it to find your way to the bathroom while keeping him in your sight. You flick the bathroom light on, and lock the door behind you.
You take yourself in, take stock of the ghost haunting the radio station. Your skin had lost some color, drained of warmth; you blamed it on the weather, the sun hidden most days behind grey clouds, the colder air tucking you inside, away from the light. Your lips were pale, cracked; eyes weighed down with bags. You had a child who woke up some nights, sure, that was a good excuse. You knew the truth, knew it by the healing marks beneath your clothes, knew it every night you snuck out to come here instead of sleep.
You were more of a corpse than he was.
You shrug his jacket off hearing the thud it makes on the ground near your feet, pulling you shirt over your head through clenched teeth. It’s the same as every other mark he left on your body; red, raw, shredded with deep bruising at the edges. The one on your left forearm was the worst, he had hit bone that time and the bruise was still a deep and purple welt that would no doubt end with a bulbous scar; you kept long sleeves on so nobody asked. You reach for the paper towels on autopilot, running the water to begin cleaning it, washing away the clotting blood in sticky pulls that slap against the sink. You hold a clean, dry paper towel to it reaching for the med kit for the big gauze pads. You stuff one within the jagged hole before tearing through a bandage with your teeth to adhere over the wound. You wipe the surrounding skin before grabbing the pile of wet, bloody paper towels to toss in the trash, and then you wash your hands focusing on the metal of the sink rather than all of the blood circling down the drain.
Your hand stills on the handle of the faucet, gaze pulled to the dark red blob unable to pass through the sink's rusted drain. You reach down plucking the small blood clot and toss it into the trash.
You dry your hands, pull your soiled shirt back over your head, and then tug his jacket back on. You’d find a new shirt when Dustin was distracted. Something clinks in his pocket and when you dig inside cool metal meets your fingers. You grasp it, unravel it, hold it out in your palm to stare down at the pick attached to a chain held together by a piece of tape. Your thumb slides over the pick, the corners of your lips wobbling upward then back down again. You pull it over your head, letting it rest over your heart once more.
Dustin eyes you, but doesn’t say anything. “Are we still on for the arcade in the morning?” He asks, and you pause, swearing under your breath. “You forgot, didn't you?”
“I uh…yeah.” You rub the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, we can leave together before Steve is awake so I can sneak back inside the house. Then he can drive us all.”
His footsteps move closer to you, “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”
“You know what…” You fake a smile, “I am starving, let me see what snacks we have tucked away.” Your eyes find Eddie’s lurking, “Why don’t you come with me?" You hold out your hand, and he’s moving, claws digging into your left arm, but you hide the wince turning from Dustin’s worried expression.
The dog laughs deep within the digital screen and Steve groans playfully beside you, settling the toy gun back in the holster of the game. A kid shouts from the next row over, slamming a flat palm to the side of the game. “I think we might just have enough tickets to get something cool.” Steve says from where he’s bent down at, tickets unspooling onto the arcade’s carpet. “What do you say baby girl?” He straightens up poking Beth’s nose then his eyes flicker briefly to yours.
“She definitely needs a new pencil.” You roll your eyes glancing over your shoulder. “Where did Dustin run off to?”
“Should I alert the staff to a missing child?” He smirks down at you, planting a hand on the game above you.
You brush past him peering around for his head of curly hair. “Hey that’s okay we can try again.” His voice is unnaturally soft and you can tell why when you turn the corner to see Max’s fingers sliding off of the game.
“There’s no point.” She grumbles using the game as a guide to move around. “I can see anything.” She pats around letting her hand find Lucas’s arm, “Can we go outside for a minute?”
“Yeah.” He nods and makes his way with her through the crowd of kids towards the front door.
You lean a hip against the game, “It’s kind of you to try.”
He slides a coin in and begins to play the game himself, “Do you ever think about every choice you ever made, that if you chose another way maybe life would be different?”
“Everyday.”
“What is yours?” He doesn’t look at you as he asks it.
“November 7th 1983.” You tell it.
His eyes shoot over to yours, “Why? I figured you’d say…why?”
You adjust your stance, shift your daughter's weight around on your hip to avoid the gouge in your side. “I went out to look, but I got scared of the dark. I regret not trying harder, for not finding Will Byers. I think I’m being punished for not being brave enough to look.” In your nightmares, your dreams, when you're calling out beyond the abyss of that threshold, it's Eddie who emerges for you, who swallows you down with an unhinged maw.
Dustin abandons the game, but stares at the screen. “I regret trying to tame a demodog.”
He stares down at the buttons of the game while the truth settles; that he knew Dart had always been a monster no matter the little slivers of domestication he had shown. It had given him hope for-! “I don’t.” You whisper because Eddie wasn’t a monster, not to you, never to you.
“Henderson.” Steve claps him on the shoulder, “That score is atrocious what’s gotten into you.” His eyes find Beth’s and he moves, large palm sliding to the base of your back and his hand outstretching with the rainbow slinky sitting nicely in the middle.
Her eyes light up, fat fingers snatching up the toy to quickly put in her mouth. “Is Andy still giving you trouble?” You ask, avoiding getting whacked by the colorful plastic.
Dustin shrugs, “It’s not as frequent, but I can handle the occasional hackle in the hall.”
Steve’s hand strokes up and down your back, your spine tightens. “I should uh go check on Max.” You’re running out of the arcade before you could inhale finding the pair of them sitting outside, their hands entwined, simply staring out at nothing. You didn't have the heart to disturb their peace.
“Well, well if it isn’t Munson’s favorite whore.” Andy-fucking-Harper steps up onto the curb in front of the arcade. He stops in front of you, hands deep in his pockets staring down at you. You don’t take the bait, “He always had so much to say.” He leans in closer, “Guess he shoved his dick so far down your throat you’ve forgotten how to speak.”
Your cheeks flush in anger. “Go away Andy don’t you have something better to do than bother people.”
He smirks, “That’s all you got for me sweetheart. I love when they at least put up a little fight.”
You go to turn, but a rough hand wraps around your bicep stopping you. “Let me go or I’ll make a police report about your murder attempt on a minor.”
“A min-! Henderson?" He barks a laugh. “Oh please like the police will take his side. What’s next? A vandalism charge?"
You bite the defense sitting on your tongue, the anger flares anyways with nowhere to go. “Chief Hopper would love to hear about that one too.”
Andy laughs, but there’s no humor. It almost gave away the tiniest hint of fear of your threat. His eyes flicker to the object in your arms, to get the attention off of himself. “Now when did you go and get yourself knocked up?” He points a single finger at your daughter.
Your heart sinks and now you're yanking your arm from his grasp. “Get away from me.” You hiss, turning, trying to shield him from looking too closely.
He cages you in, “I asked you a question. You such a druggy whore can’t even-!”
“Andy.” Steve’s voice stops him in his tracks, the bell from the arcade door still ringing slightly. “You’re an adult now so I won’t hesitate to kick your ass.”
Steve moves, placing his body slightly in front of yours between Andy while he looks from you to Steve, catching sight of Dustin behind Steve’s shoulder. “Sloppy seconds doesn’t seem like your type, Harrington.”
You watch Steve’s jaw clench, his fist curls and he’s fighting hard to not punch Andy’s jaw in. “Go, now.” He grits out.
Andy steps back, hands deep in his letterman. “Keep your freaks on a leash, Harrington because I know it was one of them who trashed Chrissy’s memorial.”
“It was probably some stupid dare.” Steve scoffs, covering for you.
“Sure.” Andy smirks knowing even if that was the truth he’d still blame you and Dustin. His eyes land on Beth one last time, then they flick to Steve and you wonder if he buys the crumbs of a story you’re desperately trying to sell. He can’t know, and you hate it, hate that you can’t deny what he’s piecing together, hate that you have to pretend to force the fact that Eddie wasn’t her father. It was because of people like Andy, who would destroy her life before it even has a chance to begin.
“If I find out you hurt him, I will tell my friend, the Chief, and have you arrested. I would hate to see that on your record Andy.” You wrap your hands around Steve’s last two fingers and tug, “Come on we should head home.”
It sells it enough for Andy to look away, to send his last scathing look at Dustin and walk off down the road away from the arcade. You sigh with relief forehead pressing to Steve’s arm, letting him wrap it around you quickly. “That kid’s a dick.”
“You should have punched him.” Dustin says, stepping out to stand with you.
“Andy would have called the cops.” You shake your head.
Steve shrugged, “Would have been worth it.” He peers down sideways at you, “You okay? None of-!”
“I’m fine,” You pull away from him, step out of his grip, tightening your arms around Beth. No, you weren’t fine, your life sucked, and the only person who could make it better couldn’t even speak words of comfort to you.
You sneak out when the world is asleep,when Dustin believes you lies, and spirits are all that keep you company on the walk to the radio station. He’s down from wherever he hides away the minute the door closes and locks behind you. You breathe him in as he does the same, surrounding you, encompassing you with his touch, his mouth, his nose evaluating you with every sense he can. His teeth trail your neck, your collarbone, you try to pull away but his lips curl back in a snarl against your skin. “Eddie please.” You whisper into him, but he’s pushing you backwards, setting you down on the couch for himself. You squeeze your eyes, you miss him so much, and your chest hurt so bad from what happened today at the arcade. “Go easy on me.”
You let him bite you on the calf, let him sink his teeth deep in the muscle and bone there feeling claws piercing the skin so tight to hold you to him. You watch with a grimace, before you let your head fall back on the couch, let your eyes close trying to make sense of the pain , make it distract you from the pain you felt inside. His tongue rolls against skin, his mouth vibrates against flesh and you let the ring dig into your palm to stop the whine in your chest.
He pulls back, licking off anything he missed, scrapping nails against the floor for the drops that fell on the linoleum. You ignore it sitting up to stare down at him. You caress the side of his head, tilting his face up towards you to offer him a weak smile, his lips painted a pretty red. “I took Beth to the arcade today, you remember? We used to go there a lot when we were in high school.”
He goes back to licking the blood of his fingers.
You wince, using the arm rest to push yourself up to your feet limping back towards the bathroom. He didn’t follow you, no doubt still drinking down whatever remained. “Fuck.” You grit sitting on the toilet realizing your med kit supplies were dwindling. You clean it with paper towels, bandage the small gash he had made and pull your pants back over it, the fabric constricting across tender flesh sending a dull ache up your leg.
You shut the light off and disappear deeper into the building finding the spare room. They had mostly used it to store the weapons, the gear for crawls, to fight an alternate reality. The piano was still in here, but it was easier to run your finger along the keys than it had been back then. You turned it on, waited a beat, then pressed your finger into a key. The sound was so loud in a quiet room, the single note bouncing off every wall to float down the dark hallway. You closed your eyes, remembering the feel of its coolness, the shape of the keys, the way each note sang differently depending on how you pressed it. You brought your other hand up fumbling over the notes of a song you had memorized, having to stop and start again multiple times to get the flow of it. You didn’t mind, didn’t mind the mistakes, the slipped keys, didn’t mind trying again, relearning a skill you had sworn to never use again. You thought of Beth, sitting next to you, wide-eyed and smiling, small fingers pressing along the keys as you guided her.
The song begins to move more fluidly, the sense of it all filling the sour room. You closed your eyes letting muscle memory kick in, letting it wash you away into the depths of your dreams. You forgot what it felt like to get lost in it, to forget the world beyond, and you know you’re crying bittersweet tears.
When your wrist cramps, your fingers still, and you glance over your shoulder to find him standing behind you.
“Oh.” Your hands slide off of the keys into your lap, but you keep looking at him over your shoulder. “Sorry, did you need the piano?”
“No.” He beams at you. “Not at all.”
You turn, throwing one leg over the bench. You take in his hand around the neck of the guitar, “You’re here to rehearse for the talent show?”
He nodded, “Yeah, but I’d much rather listen to you. Are you participating in it?”
“No,” You bit the smile in your lip. “This is just for fun.”
He comes closer, “We should play together sometime.”
You nodded, “Sure.”
He pointed to the bench, “May I?” You turn back around as he sits down beside you on the bench. “Will you play some more?”
He takes slow steps inward, the strange drag of his left leg. “Do you remember when we used to play together?” You ask, watching him reach behind you to press a key, “You didn’t like when I forced you to play the classics, saying they were too slow and boring. You-!” He runs a nail across your mouth, the words swallowed back the minute your spine presses into the keys the discordant sound reverberating into the dark.
He traps you in that space and kisses you, licking into your mouth, nails digging into the base of your skull, your jaw. You whimper into him more distorted sounds yanked from the speakers of the keyboard by the weight of your body. He pushes you back more, your head slammed into the drywall with a yelp tangling your hand into his clothes to steady yourself as your feet come off the ground.
“Eddie.” You mumble into his skin feeling the pleas consumed by his fangs. Warmth trickles down your neck where his claws had dug in. He’s all tongue and teeth ingesting your own air in a wild frenzy, and it hurts, and you want him to stop, but his absence hurts more, so you relax into it. You lean your head back, letting him lick up and down your neck drinking down the blood his nails had drawn out of you.
You try not to think of the girl in the mirror, the boy’s face in your memory, your daughter's brown eyes, the life you had tucked away into totes in a basement.
Your hand slams down on the keyboard to prevent yourself from falling, and the noise jolts him away from you with a growl. He wraps his claws around your wrist to rip it off of the keys and drags you back into the dark with him.
THREE MONTHS LATER
“Is she doing it?” Max asked with the pair of you sitting on warm cement. The sun burned down on you as spring began to give way to summer. Beth’s laughter filled up the sidewalk, Lucas holding her hands above her head moving her along the path on the skateboard.
You smile, “Sort of. It’s mostly Lucas.”
Max lets out a sad sigh, “I miss skateboarding.” You frown over at her, unseeing eyes staring out at nothing.
“We could get you a mobility cane?” You offered.
She shrugged, picking at the hole in her jeans, “Lucas thinks a guide dog would be better.”
“A big golden retriever.” He shouts from where he is readjusting Beth's foot on the skateboard. “We can get it a skateboard too, so it can ride in front of you.”
You glance at Max who is fighting a smile. “It’s not a bad idea, imagine how cool you would look.”
She goes to shove you, but misses, only to pat around for your arm and shove you again, “You’re annoying.”
Silence resumes, you continue to watch Lucas drive Beth around, continue to listen to her sweet giggles until you feel brave enough to ask. “Max…what did being in Vecna’s mind feel like?”
A shadow crosses her face, “Oh um…It just felt like this, like I was living a life within a life.”
“And you could talk?” You already knew the answer; she had spoken to you when she woke up. She nodded. “Did you ever see anything in his mind about Eddie?” Because maybe that was where the other half of him had disappeared too. Max tried to find your face, but it was slightly off center; she shook her head. You wish you could reach into his mind, his body, and fix him.
The asphalt crunches under tires, Steve pulling up beaming at Beth while he opens his door running over to her, scooping her up, kissing her baby cheeks. “Will you tell her when she is older?” Max asked, hearing Steve blow raspberries into Beth’s neck before discussing her new skill set with Lucas. “That he isn’t her father?” You watched Beth grab at Steve’s nose, and you know eventually you will have to choose between breaking your own heart, or her little one.
“Go to mommy.” Steve sets her down watching her toddle over to you collapsing into your lap with a boisterous grunt. “Figured I’d stop by after work, see if you guys wanted to go out to the fun fair tonight.”
You roll your eyes, “You just wanna get snow cones.”
Steve bends at the knees pinching Beth’s legs. "Tell mommy it is hot, and snow cones are deserved.” He pats your leg, “Come on. I have some news.” You let him pick Beth off of you, and help you stand to your feet.
“Do you guys want to come with us?” You ask, you beg slightly.
Max opens her mouth knowing you were mainly asking so you didn’t have to be alone with Steve, but Lucas throws an arm around her. “You guys go ahead.”
You hug Max, you hug Lucas and bid them farewell following Steve to his car. It was the first year they had restarted the Hawkins Fun Fair, the town feeling like it was exactly what everyone needed to help move on from strange quarantine and military presence. It was just another bandaid to force mass healing.
A half-hour later you’re staring up at the big ferris wheel remembering sitting at the top trying to tell Eddie about the moving black mass in the trees. You jump at the loud bell ringing beside you, the lights on the game booth whirling. “Pick your prize.” The attendant tells Steve in a monotone, annoyed voice wishing he was anywhere else but here.
“What do you want, baby girl?” He peers down at Beth in your arms. She only claps two little hands together. Steve peers upward at the wall of stuffed toys pointing to a dog, “We’ll take the dog.”
The attendant grabs a long claw stick to pull it down and hands it over to Steve who holds it out for Beth. “Does mommy want one?” His eyes flicker to you, you shake your head. “How about that snow cone?” You follow him to the vendors, watching people move around you feeling like you no longer belong in these spaces let alone your own scarred and bruised skin. Young children weave between bodies, there’s loud shrieking from rides, adults yelling for their kids, a teenage girl’s gasp amongst her friends.
It blurs at the edges, the noise muffled from your own memories.
The soft mouth of the stuffed dog bites your nose and you’re staring up at Steve. “Here.” He holds out the cup of shaved ice, he follows where your eyes had been most of the night. “Come on, we can eat it on the ferris wheel.” You open your mouth to refuse, but he’s moving, his hand dragging you towards the attendant holding open the gate to the ride. He helps you onto the gondola, securing Beth in his lap, locking you in with no escape.
Beth’s fist goes into the mound of purple colored ice bringing a whole handful to her mouth.
“I got napkins.” He says digging in his pocket to hold out the flimsy scraps of paper for you to clean off her sticky hands with.
You hold out the spoon for her, “Use this.”
The gondola gives a shake as it begins to move, “Jesus this thing is fast.”
You scoff, but don’t respond to that “So what is the big news?”
“Good news or bad news?”
“Bad news first, always.” You smirk down at Beth.
Steve shifts forward. “My parents sold the house finally.” You waited for him to continue, “They offered to give me half of the sale earnings for a down payment on something.”
You twirl the ring around your thumb. “That is nice of them.
“Yeah, plus I got that job at the high school, and they offered me a coaching position too.” You brace for the real reason he brought it up and he knows, you can see him watching your shoulders tense focusing on feeding your daughter melting grape flavored sugar. “Maybe we could look for something together, we could find something small, so you could stay home with Beth and-!”
“I can move out.” You say, and watch his face shatter. Your plan with Wayne failed, Eddie couldn’t speak enough to tell you what he wanted to do. “Or go back to the radio station.”
Steve huffs out a sarcastic laugh, “Why would you do that?”
You gather more ice into the spoon for Beth. “To get out of your way.”
“I don’t want you out of my way.” He reaches down and grabs your hand after Beth takes the spoon from you. “Look I understand. I rushed you. I shouldn’t have kissed you and I’m sorry, I should have given you more time, but please just…stop running away.”
“I’m not…running away.” You had thought about it, thought about packing up a car with Beth and Eddie and fleeing as far as the car would take you.
His forehead pinched. “Are…Are you seeing someone?”
Well, yes. “No.” You slowly pull your hand back from his. “I just don’t think I can give you what you’re looking for.”
“Of course you feel that way right now.” He offers to the air. More to make himself feel better than to you. “Just…think about it. Please.” He offers Beth his own spoon from his half eaten cup of shaved ice. “I’ll have a room for her no matter what.” He meets your eyes, “And you. No strings attached.”
The right thing to do was take what he was offering; safety, security, a good life with him. The selfish thing was to take Beth and run. You think of Eddie. You think of what would happen to him if you continued to live with Steve, how were you supposed to eventually bring him home to a place that didn’t belong to you. “Do you think I don’t love him?”
Steve runs his hand through his hair staring out at the clump of trees, at the setting sun to the left of him thinking on the right verbiage. “I think you were so young, and something horrible happened to you. I think you figured that was how love was supposed to be.” He grimaces as he says it, “He was a good guy, but…he was irresponsible, and even if he had lived he would not have been the man you think he could have been. He was selling drugs to minors, he was a triple senior, he-!”
“He would have changed, he was changing! Chrissy was his last deal, he was going to get his life together. For me, for us.” Your lip wobbles, the desperation still clawing at you.
“He didn’t even know about her. How could you know that?” Steve frowns. “He would have been that way forever, possibly in prison. I know you loved him, I know he meant a lot to you, but love is not enough in this world sometimes, love wouldn’t have clothed her, fed her.” He motions to Beth. “You loved him, he loved you. But he died, and you…you need to move on, not just for yourself, but for your daughter too.”
It would have been better if he punched you through the chest, that way you could have seen the wound instead of feeling the pain ricocheting off of your ribcage. Your jaw quivers, shoving the ring deep into your palm to feel that hurt instead of his words. He opened his mouth, but you cut him off. “Don’t.” You're shaking and you can’t escape him, you were trapped in this stupid gondola with him. So you let the rage build and reel on him, opening your mouth to shout, but Beth’s hand moves up, fingers wrapping around the pick sitting on your chest, big brown eyes staring up at you.
You bite your tongue until you taste metal.
The minute the gondola stops at the bottom, and the door opens, you’re flying out. He whispers your name, “Please don’t go. I-!”
But you’re walking away, from him, from all of it. You don’t let yourself cry until you’re halfway to the radio station. You run your hands through your hair because how had it all become this. You had a wonderful life, not perfect, but functional, enough with the right motivation. You were going to be married and have children and grow old with him and relish the feeling that love had been enough, and now? Now you were hoping he wouldn’t hurt his daughter the first time they met knowing she was better pretending Steve was her dad. You shove your palms into your eyes and groan into the air because the truth terrified you, because you couldn’t–wouldn’t lose him again. You want to scream. You want to burn everything to the ground.
The sun is dipping below the radio station building in an orange omen, light slipping and bleeding into the purple sky. You search in the dirt for the key and unlock the door stumbling into the golden light spilling in through the windows. “Eddie.” You call your voice cracking with his name. A beat, and two feet slam into the floor, then silent steps along where the dusk cannot touch. Long nails trail your jawline, up to the lobe of your ear until it’s rooted in your hair. “Tell me what to do.” Your voice is so broken. “I don’t know what to do.” Eddie begins to hum, quiet, a little off beat, but you recognize the tune. You kiss his palm laughing, “You don’t like Queen.” He continues to fumble along the song cupping your face to tug you to him.
His nails drag across your lips, and you tilt up for him to kiss you, to take you insatiably into his mouth. He never says anything, he continues to hum, but he likes to kiss you. He likes to bite you, take pieces of you. It was wrong and selfish, but it was nice to have him this way, to not be so alone. He twists your head this way and that, examining the length of your collarbone, the shell of your ear. You try to hide the frustration, the change in him you can't fix, can’t understand. You need him to come back, come back the way he was and the longer this went on the worse you feared he never was going to.
“Come walk with me, outside.”
His claws wrap around your bones and he drags you to the door waiting for you to unlock it once more. The blazing sun had disappeared beyond the horizon leaving behind a deep bruising indigo for the two of you to escape into. He leads you, steals you away into the deep parts of the wood, until the trees dip low to hide you from reality. Then he pushes you into the dirt, a bed of greenery breaking the fall stinging your skin; he bends in, taps the pick three times, and backs away slowly from you until all you can see is his dark eyes, until even that is gone.
You wait. The sound of the forest beating down on you, a cricket’s chirp, an owl's whoot, branches and leaves snapping and twisting, crunching and tumbling in a whispered wind. You can’t see much until fireflies blink at you, lighting up the space for only a second before you’re plunged back into darkness. The darkness didn’t scare you much anymore, you know he lurked out there, that he would come back to you. There is no moon tonight, a black oblivion speckled with tiny bright dots along the ridges of the sky. You reach your hands into the darkness, feeling the darkness reach back, long nails reaching up the length of your wrist.
“Where did you go?"
His nails trail across your scalp, down to your ear as he begins to hum again, a new song, an old song. A song by Marvin Gaye that his mother had kept a record of; ‘Since I Had You.’ He tucks something into your ear and when you reach your fingers up to touch it you feel soft petals. You let him come closer, let him crawl over you and take your face into his hands. He kisses you, starved as always, hungry for the taste of your mouth. You think to stop, to not indulge in this any longer; you knew better than to come out here in the black night with an insatiable creature. But everything hurts, and you want to feel something beside grief for a man holding you in his arms.
You want him to have you in the only way he knows how.
Consumption.
So you lay down in the dirt, the leaves, and the budding weeds and let him have you. He chews on your lip, he gnaws on your jaw, and sinks his teeth into your neck. He’s curled around you, wrapping talons around your body to scoop you up and into him. Like the wolf finishing off the doe, he burrows into your neck content to rip out your jugular. The world goes fuzzy with the pain, and you stroke soft fingertips down his hair, across his shoulders. He stops for a moment, lapping up everything trickling out of you and you feel the skin give way to his canines. You wince, biting down on a bloody lip and feel him drop your body back down into the forest floor. His hand glides up your side, bunching up the fabric of your dress to push it higher exposing more scarred bare skin to him. He drags his nail up and down the flesh, traces the indents his teeth had left before, tracing the marks pregnancy had given you. You shiver beneath his touch and trail a hand up his arm bringing it to the heat between your legs.
“Please,” You search for his face in the night, but only shadows stare back at you. He leans down over your body and kisses your ribcage, ghosting his mouth to your hip. He bites you there, he burrows his face in deep until your back arches into his mouth. The blood is warm, gushing out of you back into the earth beneath you. He holds a hand over your sternum, holding you down, keeping you still so he can take more and more of you. And when you think he might not stop, he does, he moves lower down your body repeating the action into the flesh of your inner thigh. The red liquid is so hot, slipping between your legs, covering his chin, his chest, and you whine feeling tendon tears, hearing this sick sound of him swallowing you down skin to bone.
He comes off of you.
You feel your grip on him falter, his fingers digging into the fabric of your underwear to tear through it until it rips, completely gone, exposed. You wonder if he’ll bite you there, but he shifts, hovering over your sweating forehead. “Go easy on me.” He doesn't grab you, doesn’t knead flesh beneath his palm, doesn’t touch you in the ways he always had before, but he pushes inside of you all the same. You gasp against his mouth, warm with blood, as he buries himself inside of you. The sob cracks from your throat, your body wrapping around the familiar shape, welcoming it home. It’s primal in the ways he takes you, feral, rough thrust deep into your cunt. All you can do is heave breaths along his cheek, claws digging into your hip to hold you beneath him.
He grunts, and it’s such a new sound, you moan into the night, you wrap your legs around him to hold him against you. He is quick to push your legs off of him with a growl, not wanting to be restrained, and fucks you harder. He moves his head to your shoulder letting your own bend backwards into the dirt. You tilt your hips up, his cock sliding into the spot that always had felt so good. You miss his voice, miss his vulgar words, and instead find solace in the way he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. “Eddie.” You whimper, growing dizzy, bleeding out in the mud. The pressure is tight in your stomach, a coil pulled taut every bruising slap of his hips. You grasp blindly for him, losing the strength to dig nails into him, toes curling on leaves. It hurts, his teeth, and his biting hurt, but he feels so good, and your vision grows spotty.
You always knew you’d be with him forever. You think it is a good place to be, all gone inside of him, half of him. You succumb to the pleasure the same time the blood loss takes you too.
The forest sways, the trees above you break with movement, gaps of onyx night sneaking through, blinding you, making you groan. “Thank god.” You don’t recognize the voice, but your body jostles around making you whine in pain once more.
“E…” Your voice is so hoarse, and you’re so cold, and everything hurts. You squeeze your eyes feeling sick with every shift of movement the world spinning around you. You throw yourself sideways, tumbling back into the dirt, barely able to shove yourself up to vomit into the muck below. You can’t stop shaking and something is placed around your shoulders. It doesn't belong on your cracked skin. “Eddie.” You say.
Silence meets you. You roll sideways until you're lying on your side Steve and Dustin staring down at you with worry.
Some breath leaves you, “Eddie.” You rasp.
“We have to take you to the hospital.” Steve says instead. You don’t answer, just close your eyes with a shaking breath. “You should have told me, months ago, when you found him.” Steve hisses at Dustin. “He should have been locked away, put down.
Dustin frowns at him “Life would have been easier for you huh?”
Steve pinches his nose and shakes his head, “You know that’s not what I mean. He’s not there anymore, whatever he is, it’s a monster. And we’re lucky he didn’t kill her, kill Beth.”
“Eddie.” You feel warm tears leaking from the corner of your eyes.
“You’re just prolonging the inevitable, and it's hurting her. I know what he meant to you, to her too, but this isn’t right. You should have left him down there.” Steve makes his way over to you. He bends down to scoop you back into his arms. “We have to go to the hospital. You’re ripped apart.”
You stare up at Steve. “No.” He doesn’t respond. ‘No. I’ll scream and he will come.”
“You’re lucky Dustin got me when he did. I had to pull him off of you, and he had…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, the throbbing in between your legs painting the picture.
“I let him.” You whisper. “I wanted him to.”
Steve stares down at you horrified. “Don’t say that. Don’t say things like that.”
You stared ahead at the clean white floor with stinging eyes that never ceased leaking. You felt so out of place, covered in dirt and debris and blood from somewhere in the middle of this spotless waiting room coated in the scent of antiseptic. Dustin forced you off that floor you had screamed to kill you too, to take you to him to die beside his body. But Dustin had broken his ankle, so he forced you off of the floor, forced you to get him to the hospital. Then the nurses forced you in here; to wait, to die, you didn’t know.
Your stomach lurched and flipped and you grabbed the trash can to vomit into it, your throat already torn to shreds from the screaming.
The door opens with a gentle creak of hinges and you glance up from the trash. “Hey.” Steve comes into the room sitting down in the seat beside you. “Dustin is okay, just a broken ankle.” You set the trash can down, “I brought you some water.” He holds out the bottle.
You settle back in the chair not taking it. “I should have told him.”
Steve’s hand lands on the bottom of your spine. “He knew-!”
“I’m pregnant.” The silence rings down on you.
“We should-!”
You retch again into the trash can between your legs, the sob cracking out of your chest. “I can’t do this.” You whimper, you whine. “I can’t do this without him.”
“I’m here.” Steve whispered. “It’s gunna be okay. I’m here and you’re okay.” It didn’t make you feel better at all. “Please take the water.” He takes your hand to wrap around the water bottle, “I’ll go find a doctor, you should get looked at, make sure everything is okay.” His voice trails away from you, the emptiness engulfing you where his body should have been tied around your soul.
There’s a beeping behind you, quiet, a known noise you had listened to for over a year. The room in front of your eyelids seems too bright, but you’re blinking them open taking in the form sitting beside you, arms crossed, head back in an attempt to sleep. “Eddie?” Your voice shatters.
Steve’s eyes flutter open, ‘Shh it’s okay, you're safe. I’m here and you’re okay.”
You wince in pain when you shift. “Where is he?”
“Getting some sleep,” He moved for you to see Dustin’s sleeping form on the long couch in the hospital room. “You have traumatized that boy.”
“He was already traumatized, we all are.” Your wiggle your nose, the nasal cannulas on the oxygen tickling the inside. “Where is Eddie?”
Steve kisses his teeth. “Hopefully burrowing under a rock where no one will ever find him.”
“He will come back for me.”
“I’ll kill him.” He promises. “I’ll kill him if he comes near you again or my…If he comes near Beth.” You’re in too much pain, too dizzy to argue. “Stop,” He reaches forward to stop your hands from pulling off the oxygen, “You lost a lot of blood.”
His eyes lock onto the chain around your neck, but you're glancing up at the bag of red fluid disappearing into your arm. “He knows about her, he knows she is his daughter.”
Steve scoffs, “He doesn’t know anything. He is a feral animal, no better than trying to tame a wolf. Dustin should have left him in the Upside Down instead of putting everyone through this misery all over again.”
“You want him dead?”
“I want you safe!” He whispers it out, but the body on the couch stirs anyways. “I want you and Beth and Dustin and everyone safe.”
You breathe, woozy, tired. “He would never hurt me.”
Steve laughs humorlessly. “Does the fox mean to snap the hare's neck? No, it’s just trying to eat.” He grabs your arm showing it to you, showing you the wound leaking blood onto white bandages, the ugly bruise working up the length of your arm. “This isn’t even the worst of it. I don’t know who you think he is, but it’s not Eddie, not anymore.”
“He’s learning. He uses music, and he-he knows me. I can see it in his eyes.” You’re crying, fresh hot tears rolling down a dry face.
“I saw his eyes, they’re not normal, he is not normal.” Steve shifts, cupping a hand over your bruised knuckles. “He was a rabid animal clawing at me when I tried to take you.”
You shove his hand away, "Because he loves me!”
“Because he wants to kill you!”
Dustin sits up with a groan, rubbing his face. “Dart knew me, well enough to take the candy, and let us pass.” Steve shoots him a look. “I’m just saying. There are parts of him still in there, he is docile most of the time, he can’t talk but he remembers some things. He is aware.”
Steve looks between the two of you, “So what’s the end goal here? You want to teach him how to speak, bring him home, let him babysit and hope the neighbors don’t see him?” Your head collapses back into the pillow. “Look, let’s not argue. You’re not well. Rest, and we can talk about this when you feel better.”
“Don’t hurt him.” You cry. “I can’t lose him again.”
“I know,” Steve frowns. “And I’m sorry you ever had to lose him in the first place, but I think your grief is blinding you from what really matters.” He stands up, “I’m going to get some coffee. Do you need anything?”
Dustin shakes his head, moving into the chair Steve had vacated watching him leave the room. His face settles in relief when he looks down at you. “When did you come?” You asked, bones heavy.
“Steve called. He was worried about you, said you had a fight, and you weren’t home. He wanted to know if you were at my house. I said yes because I knew you were probably at the radio station.” He finds your hand, the action makes you wince. “When I got there, it was empty. I panicked and called Steve, I told him everything.” You close your eyes, turning your head away from him. “We looked in the woods for so long, and we found him, hunched over you, you were…and he was just eating away at you. The sound…”
“I’m sorry.” You can’t look at him.
Dustin sniffs, and you turn to take in his welling eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I should have let him go. I should have-!”
“No.” You try to sit up, but it only makes you grimace and whine and fall back defeated. “He is fine, and if we keep trying I know-!”
“He’s not fine.” Dustin sighs, and you hate that deep down you know it's true. Eddie had never been fine, never been normal; it didn’t make you ever stop loving him. “He almost killed you.”
Your lips tug up in a sad smile, “He would never hurt me.”
Steve’s words play in your head, and you know they’re playing for him too. “Beth shouldn’t lose her mom too.” He says it so quietly.
“So what do I do?” Your voice cracks with the beaten words. “What do I do, Dustin?”
“Rest.” He squeezes your fingers.
He doesn’t talk to you anymore, but he stays near until Steve comes back. You could hear Dustin and him talking, it sounded underwater, muffled your head growing heavy once more, eyes struggling to stay open. Your eyes are trained on the hospital room window wishing you could open it, wishing you could search for two eyes to glow back at you.
The next days move in a hazy blur, alternating you between sleep and lucidity. Steve brought you back to the house, laid you in the soft comfort of blankets. You missed the cold, the leaves, the pain. He always locked the windows before he went to sleep for the night.
Some nights you would drag yourself across the carpet inch by inch, breath wheezing, hands trembling so badly you could barely work the latch. You’d force it open anyway, just enough to let your arm fall limply into the dark wishing it would chew on you to make the ache inside you stop.
Nothing ever came. Nothing is out there.
Eventually you could stand long enough to shower on your own, your legs struggling to hold your wilting body up. In the harsh bathroom light, you stared at yourself–skin marred in blacks and greens, bleeding across your skin like something rotten was beneath the surface, his teeth and scratches stamped into your flesh. You sank down onto the shower floor, folding into yourself, hugging your knees to your chest, the hot water pelting against everything that still hurt. You were so lost. You were so confused.
“Can we talk?” Steve asked, watching you brush through your hair seated on the bed. You still get dizzy if you stand for too long.
You don’t look at him. “What is there to talk about? You made yourself quite clear.”
He sighed sitting on the opposite edge of the bed. “Look, I was upset, I was worried. It came out wrong.”
“The sentiment is the same.” You set the brush down.
“Will you look at me?” No, you wouldn’t. “I fought those bats too, you know, I remember what they looked like, what they sounded like, how all they wanted to do was claw and bite and chew through me.” You often replayed those moments too, when you had swam through that gate, saw that dark world, those bats swarming down to attack. “I know it seems like that thing is Eddie, that one day he is just going to snap out of it, but it’s delusional to believe that thing is not dangerous.”
“Dart-!”
“Dart was dangerous. He would have killed Dustin in a second if Eleven hadn’t closed the gate when she did.” You closed your eyes letting him ramble on. “I don’t know what he is, how he is alive, and frankly I think it’s best if we never know.”
You finally looked over your shoulder at him, “So what do you suppose we do?”
Steve swallows, relieved you seemed to be agreeing with him. “I considered the mental hospital, we can register him under a different name and-!”
“A different name.” Your eyes went unfocused, some strange feeling washing over you; hope. “Like Jane Hopper.” Steve furrowed his brows at you. “That doctor, from Nevada, gave Hopper’s girl a new identity, helped her a few years ago. He also helped Will Byers when he came back from the Upside Down. He can help Eddie.”
“No.” Steve shook his head, but you were already struggling to your feet. He pleaded with your name, “We don’t even know if he is even alive or-!”
You were already moving. “I’ll find out. I’ll go there and-!” Your knee buckled and Steve barely reached you in time before you collapsed with a sob. Your fingers dug into Steve, the room spinning, and you felt him cup your face in his hands. “I have to help him. I have to…” Steve moves in and out of focus in front of you. “Beth, I have to do this for Beth. He loves her, he’s her father.”
“He’s not her father.” Steve sighs, wiping away your tears. “I raised her. She’s mine, in everything but blood, and you’re selfish for putting her through this.”
Your brows crease, lip curling in disgust. It never lands. You open your mouth to speak, to argue, to make him take back his words. Nothing comes out, deep down, beneath the grief and yearning, you know it’s true. No amount of longing can give you your family back, no half-remembered ghost of someone else can replace something tangible, something she had gotten to feel in her short little life.
The bruises were covering something rotten; you.
Your body goes slack in his arms, and you’re fighting the black spots in your vision listening to his voice cutting in and out of focus trying to keep you awake, present, alive. “I have…he’s…my…Edd-!”
“Eddie! Focus.” You shove him. A younger you, a younger him. You pointed down at the open book, “You barely passed the last test.”
He groaned, flopping his head down at a table in your backyard. You liked when the weather changed, when the sun set later, when it was warm at 6:00 PM. Your father was watching some sports game, your mother was making dinner peeking at the two of you through the window, making sure nothing improper was happening. “This is so boring.”
You hide the giggle behind your hand. “Come on, you'll get left in the dust if you don’t study.” He peeks up at you through a curtain of hair. He had been growing it out, he told you it looked more metal when it was long, you thought he just looked pretty. “How will I help you then?”
“You’re smart, you’ll figure it out without me.”
“I don't want to.” You frown.
He rolled his eyes, “Don’t let me drag you down with me.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Munson.” Your hand lands on his own. He picks his head up, studying the skin to skin contact. The corner of his mouth ticks up. He stares at you, you stare at him, you feel hands entwining with each other, souls tethering, before he slowly leans in and presses his lips to your own. It’s awkward, and uncoordinated, teeth and noses bumping first before lips could ever touch, but it had sealed a fate.
“I think I’d like to kiss you forever.” He mutters against your lips.
“I’ll hold you to that promise.”
You wait a week. You wait until you no longer grow dizzy on two feet. You gather your strength, you pack in hiding, you grab the revolver Nancy had gifted you, and at 3:00 AM, you make your bed and go across the hall.
Beth is fast asleep, grumbling as you pick her up. “Shh shh shh.” You bounce her, hold her tight and keep moving. The faster you got out, the more distance you could put between yourself and Hawkins. You tiptoe down the stairs, out to the garage where you had stuffed all the bags next to all the moving boxes. You shove it all in the trunk and buckle Beth into her car seat before quietly closing the door to keep her asleep.
The last thing you do is go to the garage fridge taking out a raw steak from the bottom drawer and placing it in the front seat. You cringe as you start the car, as you open the garage hoping Steve does not wake up during your escape attempt.
Then you speed off into the night driving towards the radio station.
The lights are all off, and when you fling open the door you hope he wandered back here for good. “Eddie!” You call waiting to hear the drop of his feet, but silence buzzes in your ear. You groan in frustration heading back outside squinting out into the treeline. You sigh, turn the car off, and grab Beth once more making your way across the grass, back out into the woods. “Come on.” You try to sound playful watching her rub her tired eyes. “We’re going to find daddy and then you can sleep as long as you want in the car.”
Darkness consumes you the minute your foot crosses the threshold of the tree line. You’re too determined to stop now, too lost to realize how reckless and stupid this was, that Steve was right.
No.
He wasn’t right. He’s not allowed to be right. The tapestry your life was woven into was hanging by a fragile thread, clinging to the fabric stuck to the sharp end of Eddie’s fingernails. You keep walking.
“Eddie!” You call again when you feel like you remember the place, when it seems you couldn’t go any deeper. A groaning of a branch, a rustle of leaves, two feet hitting the forest floor and you sigh with relief. The moon is waxing above the holes in the trees, white light reflecting off of glowing eyes. “Eddie.” You breathe.
He stalks towards you, fingers outstretching until you give him your own. He greedily takes it, runs his nose, his mouth up the healing skin. He stills when he sees the weight in your arms, the eyes he used to have staring back at him. You hold your breath, watching him watch her, waiting for something to happen.
He starts to hum, hum her song, his other hand trailing along the baby’s cheek, twisting her curl around his finger. “Yes Eddie.” You nod. “Beth. It’s Beth.” You smile at your daughter, “That’s daddy.”
Beth stares at him, then slowly shrinks into you. You frown, but Eddie pays it no mind, continuing to learn her through his touch, his smell, humming to himself.
You lick your lips. “Eddie, I need you to come with me, with us.” He peeks up at you, his humming ceases, now all you heard was your pounding heart. “We’re going to go somewhere, and I know someone who can help you. We can figure out how to fix this.”
He wraps his claw around your bones, and tugs.
“No, Eddie.”
He snarls at you, yanking you harder, wishing to drag you deeper into the forest to keep you there forever. You think you’d let him if you didn’t have her anchoring you to this plane of earth.
“Eddie, no. No more.” You don’t pull, you don’t yank. You stand firm. “Come with me.” Your voice breaks, “Please.” You shake your head as his nails dig in, blood leaking down your arm. “Please, Eddie I need to fix this, and the only way I can do that is if you come with me.” You’re crying now, tears spilling over on to the greenery below; his grip loosens. “You promised me. You promised me you would get it together.” His hand lets go of you, fingers brushing against the pick lying against your open chest. He taps it three times. As if drawn to the sound, the noise, the way the moonlight reflects on silver; Beth’s little hand grabs onto it too. “Fight with me, fight for me, for our baby. We can be a family, like you promised, you and me against the world.”
Eddie hums her song to her watching as her little hand wraps around his finger.
You use it as a way to guide him, walking backwards towards the car, stumbling and tripping in the dark until the horizon gives and you see the break in the trees to the open grass. You walk quickly towards the car clipping Beth back in and pushing Eddie into the passenger seat. “Here.” You dig into the bag on the floor pulling out the raw steak and handing it to him. “You can eat this.”
He rips the package open with his teeth. You can’t watch, so you close the door nausea brewing in your stomach imagining him doing the same to your body, and Dustin finding it.
You start the car back up, tires squealing when you peel out of the gravel towards the road. “We’ll travel at night.” You tell him, wincing at the sick sound of him gorging himself on the meat. “It’s a long drive to Nevada, but we can stop during the day to sleep and I’ll get us food. You’ll have to stay hidden, but it’ll be fine because we have each other.” You smile over at him only to find him burrowed deep, shaking his face vigorously into the tendons.
The smile slides off of your face, turning into a pained grimace, and you force yourself to look in the rearview mirror. Just a few more blocks and you would be out of Hawkins, free, with Eddie, and your baby. You can see the sign, see it beckoning you to leave, to hurry.
Eddie starts to howl in pain the minute the car is over the town line.
“What’s wrong?” The brakes seizes making a whining sound, the car skidding to a stop. “Eddie!” Beth is crying now too as you throw the door open, running around the car to open his door to pull him from the car. There’s blood everywhere and you can’t tell if it's him or the meat. “What’s wrong?” You scream watching the blood seeping through his shirt. You peel it up, the night filled with agony watching the bites long healed now torn open, fresh, oozing maroon liquid onto the asphalt.
You glance at the car hearing your daughter wail, you glance down at Eddie arching his back in pain. You need to get Beth, you need to help Eddie. You’re torn between the two, an inevitable choice cracking down on you.
“Tell me what to do!” You grab at him, holding bleeding hands to bleeding wounds. “Please don’t die. Please I can’t go through it again, I can’t lose you. I-!”
“Bring him over the town line.”
Will Byers is standing in the middle of the road. “What?” He begins walking towards you, hooking his arms under Eddie’s armpits and motions with his eyes for you to grab his feet. You do. You half carry half drag his body back towards Hawkins. He settles for a moment, legs twitching, squirming from leftover pain, but when you check the wounds they are gone, scarred over once more. “I don’t understand.”
“Go check on Beth.” He nods to the car, still running, still open. You jog over, pressing your head in.
She’s not crying anymore, but she’s awake, looking at you for all the answers. You don’t have them. Your eyes catch on that stuffed dog Steve had won her and you reach over to grab it, blood smears down the body when you place it in her small hands. “Here. I’ll be right back. Don’t worry.”
You go back to them, kneeling beside Eddie and checking his closed cuts again. “His lifeforce is tied to Hawkins.” Will Byers said. The world seems to go quiet with his statement, and all you can do is hold Eddie’s hand. “The bats, the ones that didn’t die, hooked him up the hive mind near the rift for when Vecna would eventually return. It kept him…hanging, in this middle part of life.” Fade to Black. “I felt it, I didn’t understand, but I felt it.” You glanced up at him, at this strange alive, but dead boy. “When I accessed his power last year, it confirmed it.”
“But then why-!”
“The military moved in soon after the rifts opened. They found him first; Dr. Kay found him. They revived him.” Shock Wave. The Trooper. “They experimented on him.” The Prisoner. Teenage Lobotomy. “I don’t know the extent of it, just what Kali told Eleven about it. Kali said the damage to his brain was too much, and Dr. Kay was dissecting the bats and infusing it with him, trying to turn him into a weapon.” Changes. “Kali broke him out before she was recaptured.” Breaking the Chains. “And I’m sure you know the rest, about the lab, Dustin.” Flight of Icarus.
Your mind spins like a record he had shoved into your palms. “I still don’t–the town line. I don’t understand.”
Will Byers comes closer, Eddie in a state of calm below you. “He died in the Upside Down. They revived him, changed him in the Upside Down, he’s made up of more of it than he is of Eddie Munson.”
“But the Upside Down is gone! Vecna, the bats, Dr. Kay!” You reel on him. “You all destroyed it.”
“The Upside Down was just a bridge to the Abyss. The Abyss still exists out there, somewhere, but its connection point was always Hawkins.” You look back down at Eddie who peers up at you with dark eyes. “His lifeforce is tied to a point of entry that no longer exists; it encircles the town like a bubble. He should have died when the bomb went off.” Will Byers has a strange smile as he speaks. “Guess he was in the right place at the right time.”
The rifts between the worlds. He was in that godforsaken ditch where Chrissy died. “What do I do?” You ask Will Byers.
Quiet. You’re certain he’s walked away, but soon you feel the ghost of a hand on your shoulder. “Let him go.” You close your eyes, tears squeezing out. He wasn’t saying it meanly, forcibly, he was saying it as a fact. Finite, true. “You should know Steve and Dustin are three blocks away.” The hand on your shoulder lifts and when you look, Will Byers is gone, you’re not even sure he was really ever there.
“Come on.” You go under his arms to scoop him up. “Come on, we have to hurry. We’ll go somewhere safe within the town limits. I’ll get that doctor to come here. We’ll be okay.” Eddie watches you, eyes flickering around your face before his finger comes up the pick. Tap! Tap! Tap! “Eddie enough!” You shout at him. “Enough! Just talk to me! Tell me what to do!” A nail grazing your lips, you slap it away. “Stop it! Stop doing this! Get up and walk with me right now!” You pound two fists into his chest, “You promised!” You collapse into him, pressing your face into his chest listening to his heart beat for the first time.
It was a strange rhythm; three quick pulses and then nothing before it did it again a few minutes later. You peered up at him knowing that it wasn’t natural, that Eddie wasn’t natural, not anymore.
“Please.” You lay your forehead on him one more time. “We were supposed to be together forever.” You feel nails dragging up your skin, you feel them wrap around your jaw bones bringing your face up to his mouth. “I love you.” You tell him with quivering eyes. “You love me too, you always have.” He comes in close, cages you in, and kisses you, making you remember the only way he knows how to love you now. He bites your shoulder first letting your cry be muffled by his chest shoved against your face, then he moves with a cursed speed down your throat. He tunnels down into your neck, nicking it with his teeth, licking up the blood, biting down into the cuts he made. You groan in pain growing limp in his arms and pray he eats at you long enough Steve can get Beth away.
He holds you too tightly, your back bones buckle under the pressure, ribs smashed between bodies. You can’t hold your hands to him anymore, knuckles hitting asphalt and relief floods you when two headlights appear down the road.
“Don’t worry.” You whisper. To him, to yourself, to Beth. Your body twists in pain trying to lean against his cheek, humming for him. His jaw unhinges, maw wide, to drag a tongue across the wetness before snapping his mouth back around you, harder, deeper. You grow dizzy with the shock of pain running down your nerves.
The car door slams and Steve is running. “Get off of her!” He throws Eddie’s body down the road, but Eddie was strange, different, and he just rolls, hisses at Steve and runs after him.
Your head falls back against the road, Dustin appearing at your side. “Hey are you okay?” You held your hand to your bleeding neck trying to look past him just as Eddie’s claw came down on Steve. Your vision splits for a second, “Steve said you took…and we…then he…”
“Get Beth out of here.” You shove Dustin to the side staggering to your feet, swaying the whole way to the car. Steve shouts in pain, you hear the sick squelching sound of open flesh, and you fling the front door open digging in the glove compartment for the gun. Blood is smeared on everything, the side of the car, the door handle, the glove compartment door hanging open. You push Dustin into the front seat. “Take her across the town line.” He stares at you confused, “Now!”
Steve’s on the ground, blood splattered everywhere and you stumble over to them watching Eddie preparing to pounce. He emits this sound, this screech, long nails curled for the final kill.
You point the gun at him. “Eddie!” He is still, watching you with black eyes, the lights under the Hawkin’s sign reflecting in them. “Eddie, stop or I’ll shoot.”
“Just do it.” Steve moans in pain rolling to his side supporting a hand over the gash in his abdomen.
The gun shook in your hands, their forms doubling and blurring around the edges. Eddie lets his hand drop, stalking over to you on lithe feet, left leg dragging slightly, until the barrel is pressed to his strange beating heart. Your eyes flare up at him in fear, and maybe this was all your fault. You let him bite you first, you indulged this fantasy until it turned him rabid, and now when the time came why were shocked he needed to be put down.
Maybe if you were a stronger woman you would pull the trigger.
But you’re weak, so the gun clatters to the ground at your feet.
Long nails trail up skin, up your forearms, your biceps, over your shoulder, up your neck, into the base of your skull. A finger traces the shape of your mouth before he leans down and kisses you. A soft, gentle thing, a whisper of memory, a ghost who haunted the dark corners of your room. He hums his daughter’s song along the ridges of your mouth.
“Come on.” You let him wrap around you, “Let’s go.” You give him a nudge to take you away, and he does. He sinks his claws in you and drags you sideways, off the road, towards the woods in the distance. You hear Steve screaming after you. You glance over your other shoulder at the car across the town line and sigh relieved that your daughter would be safe, and then you let the night swallow you down her throat.
He drags you deeper into the woods, branches clawing at your clothes, the trees rising higher and higher above, skeletal limbs weaving together until the sky disappears entirely. It suffocates you in a shadowy shroud, the forest pressing in to bury you alive. You try to keep your staggering footing in the dark, slipping in the mud, roots catching at your steps trying to keep him moving, making sure he doesn't turn back.
The world turns sideways when he heaves you over his shoulder, the contents of your stomach threatening to come back up. Every step drives it hard into your gut, knocking the air from your lungs again and again in a sickening rhythm, the forest swaying with each stride. Blood runs warm and sticky down your neck, sliding between your fingers dripping down below. You don’t know when it will stop, if soon with one tear he’ll claw your carotid out to be done with this already. Deep down, beneath it all, you know he won’t kill you, however warped, or starved, you can see those hints of the fragile sliver of humanity trapped within.
It’s an abrupt stop. He throws you down, your back hitting the ground hard enough the breath bursts from your lungs. Pain radiates up your spine, but you’re already moving again, his hands clamp onto your shoulders and drag you backward. Your heels carving useless lines through the mud as you’re hauled across the forest floor, leaves and grit catching in your clothes.
The earth seems to open beneath you. He pulls you into a hollow carved into the ground, a grave, a den, a healing rift in the world. The air inside is colder, stale, smelling faintly of damp soil and rot. This is where he had disappeared to that night; where the world could not reach him. Your head lolls to the side as you struggle to breathe, vision swimming. In the dimness, you make out the pieces of a life you had tried to make him remember, brought down from the radio station and hoarded like relics. Photographs, edges curled and dirt-smudged strown about the ground, the broken guitar with snapped strings, Beth’s blanket. It was all that was left of him.
You hope he buries you both within the dirt, fed to the night.
He crawls over you, climbing over your body to drag a finger through the wound he had given you. You think he may shove his fist through it, rip the veins and tendons loose to hold in his palms. You bring your hand up to his face, ghosting over the skin. “I’m sorry.” You tell him, watching him lick it all off of his finger. “I wanted to run so far away with you.”
He brings his hands down tearing at your clothes to get to your shoulders, your collarbones.
“I think if Dr. Kay found out you were alive… she’d come after you.” Your voice is barely more than breath, a fragile thing that seems afraid of being overheard by the trees themselves. The fear had made roots under your skin ever since you learned the truth back on that street. This wasn’t a curse, or some foot soldier for a dark wizard. This had been deliberate. “I should have jumped into that rift and brought your body back myself, so she couldn’t have-!” You can’t finish the sentence imagining him held down while she peeled him apart layer by layer; his flesh, his memory, his language, his kindness. She had reshaped him until the man you loved no longer fit inside his own bones, morphed him beyond recognition, and if she knew he had survived…she would want her monster back.
He wasn’t a monster, he wasn’t a killer, not to you, never you.
Long, jagged nails slide over your sternum, slow, with purpose. They curl there, spanning the cage of bones that protect the one thing he used to hold so carefully. You squeeze your eyes shut, your body going still beneath him, you brace for the rupture, the plunge of his fist. Tell me you love me. The plea never leaves your mouth, it trembles silently inside you, childish and desperate. Tears spill from the corners of your eyes, sliding sideways into your hair, into the dirt, disappearing without notice. Say it. Just once. I want to hear it one last time.
You know he can’t.
Whatever part of him that had once formed those words, that had once whispered them into your shoulder in the dark had been carved away deep in a different dimension. This is what he was now, claws and fangs, a body that understands only consumption. He shifts above you, breath warm and uneven, and you feel the truth settle like something terminal. He eats at you because he loves you. There is no separation, no line between devotion and hunger. Instinct has swallowed the language whole, affection and appetite were the same gnawing need. When his mouth had pressed to your skin, when his teeth had broken it and chewed at it, it wasn’t savagery; it was the only way he could remember how to love you.
Hunger was hunger no matter the origin.
You feel the pressure increase, five sharp points pierce through skin. The pain is bright and blinding, a white flare that stutters the air. A broken sound escapes you, a sob, his name. “Eat it,” you whisper, voice shaking, surrendering to the inevitable. “It’s yours anyway.” It always has been. Every soft, foolish part of you that believed that love could have saved him.
You wait for him to tear into you, but it doesn’t come. His nails retreat, and slowly pain ebbs. You’re afraid to take a breath, afraid to open your eyes. Eventually you do, looking up at him tracing the guitar pick slowly over your chest. It drags lightly across your skin, following the frantic rhythm beneath it as though he’s trying to map it. As though he’s trying to remember something he once knew by heart.
His head lowers, folding over you, arms wrapping around your body with a crushing gentleness. He pulls your chest to his ear, and listens. The forest goes impossibly quiet, even the wind seems to still. He’s silent against you, his strange unnatural silence.
He can’t say he loves you, he never will be able to again. He can’t shape the words, can’t gather the syllables, can’t bridge the distance between what he is and what he was. But he listens to your heart like he had once listened to the radio, with a hand against the speaker, learning the song until it makes sense to him.
You lie there beneath him, tears soaking into the soil; this broken, feral closeness the last version of love he has to give.
“B…th.”
“I’m sorry I never told you when you were alive, maybe you would have never fought in a war that didn’t involve you.” You confess. “I was scared, so scared you wouldn’t change.” You close your eyes against his face savouring the metallic smell of him, the dirt and the rot. “I know Steve is wrong, I was wrong, you would have changed for us, for her.” He pulls you away from him, peering down at you, you can barely see him in the dark and you picture his soft eyes staring down at you with affection instead of void strangeness. You arch up and connect your mouth to his.
His grip loosens slowly, the gentleness in him not meant to last. Your lips rest against his, just your lips, no insatiable heady hunger, no feverish need, only the fragile softness of something already breaking. You kiss him thinking of those awkward children knocking noses over an unread textbook. You think of his fingers grazing yours on piano keys. You think of your baby’s brown eyes, reflecting a world you cannot hold together.
And in that small, borrowed moment of time, you feel like you're kissing your Eddie again, a goodbye you should have had, a goodbye you never wanted in the first place.
“Thank you for giving her to me.” You breathe into his mouth. “I wish she could know you the way I did, not the fading parts, not the silence, but the way you laughed, the way you were kind.” Nails scratch at your back until finally he releases you back into dirt. It isn’t gentle, and the ground welcomes you more easily than he does. “I can’t be selfish anymore, not with her.” You push yourself upright, voice cracking. The godforsaken inevitable choice makes itself known, a choice between air and water, and you choose to break your own heart instead of hers. “She needs me more than you do.” The words saw through the bone. “I have to be enough for her. I can’t do that when I’m chasing ghosts.”
You search for his body in the dark, fingers trembling over empty air until you find him at last seated at your feet. His nails are wrapped around your calf, still yours, for a second longer. You scoot down, despite the ache in your body, despite the blood still trickling down your back. Your hand wraps around his slowly, your other hand rises up to cup his face. You wanted to stay like this forever, here with him until you died.
“I’ll keep her safe and know she will be loved.” You gaze up at him, vision blurry from tears, blood loss, pain. “Don’t worry.” You wait for him to argue, to tell you you’re wrong, to say your name the way he used to; soft, alive.
But his grip loosens, slowly, finger by finger, as he had on the radio station couch, until the weight of his hand is only memory.
When you reach for him again, grasping at where he should be, there is nothing; no shadow, no glowing eyes in the dark…no him. “I love you.” You tell the darkness, because the words still belong somewhere. Your chest caves around them. “I think I’ll love you forever Eddie Munson.” The dark does not answer. It only takes, it only makes losing him again unbearable.
When you stand up, when you put one shaking leg in front of the other you know you’re burying something that is still breathing.
The door closes behind you, hands shaking to lock it before you slide to the ground dragging blood down the door. Steve is stumbling down the stairs towards you, taking your face in his hands, checking the nasty wound on your neck that had stopped bleeding ten blocks ago. “I thought you were…” He sighs relieved. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”
Dustin appears from the living room, seeming to have been trying to sleep on the couch there. “Did you kill him?”
You shook your head. “Is Beth-!
“She’s good, sleeping.” Steve nods.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. yeah just…yeah.” He let his hands drop away from you. “You should have shot him.”
“Would you have?” You peek at him.
Steve lets out a shaky breath. “No.”
“Well then I guess you both are horrible at keeping promises.” You watch Dustin go to the kitchen flipping the light on, you hear water running. “I stole a steak from the fridge, probably need to clean it out if the car, probably need to clean the whole car.”
Steve’s forehead creases, “There…” His eyes go to your right arm, to the gouged out wound there before he looks back up at you. “There was no steak in the fridge, my parents threw everything away for the move.”
You close your eyes listening to Dustin returning with something dripping, not really understanding what Steve was saying, “Eddie got hurt once we crossed the town line, that’s why we were on the road.” Dustin hands Steve the rag who presses it to your bloody neck. “Will Byers told me what Dr. Kay did to him in that lab, how she revived and experimented on him, that he can’t leave Hawkins or he’ll die.” Your eyes blink open in time to see Dustin and Steve exchange a look. “What?”
Steve whispered your name. “Will is dead.”
“He died during the battle, remember?” Dustin adds.
The room tilts a little bit. “No. No, I saw him. He-!”
Steve shifts, “You lost a lot of blood.” Steve wipes it off of you. “You’ve been through something…horrible. It will be okay, don’t worry. You can rest now. We'll talk once you're better."
SEVEN YEARS LATER
Your eyes are closed, a melancholy peace filling the quiet room. Your fingers drift over the keys forming the shape of the ache inside you, a soft, fragile melody coming forth. Each note lingers too long, trembling in the air before dissolving into it. Across the room, through the thin sheet of glass in its cheap wooden shadow box frame, you find his face in the tiny photo. The photograph is pushed half behind newer memories, crowded by smiles that came after him, time trying to replace what it never could. It’s from the eighth-grade talent show; he stands on that stage, wide smile, blissfully unaware, frozen and unchanged. Even from across the room, even blurred and partially hidden, he is painfully beautiful, a kind of beautiful that still makes your chest tighten. Loving him had been inevitable, denying it would have been a lost cause.
You found peace in him watching you once more, from the frame, from the obscured photo. He’d tease you, tell you the song was too sad, too dramatic, but he would listen anyway quiet in his admiration, quietly yours.
The notes grow heavier, hands pressing harder into the keys, like you’re trying to hold onto something that has already slipped through the cracks in the chords, cracks in the world. You hit the last key, it hangs thin, shaking, before fading into the walls. The vibration travels up your fingers, through your wrist, into your elbow, and then even that disappears.
Silence. He isn’t watching, and the only thing in the room is you, an old photo, and an echo.
Your fingers still, and you glance over your shoulder to find Beth’s music teacher standing behind you. “Sorry.” You scramble out of the seat stepping away, “I was just-!”
“It’s fine.” She chuckles, putting a hand up to stop you. You wiped your sweaty hands off on your pants. “I always wondered where Beth got all her musical talent from, she's a really gifted girl, especially with the guitar.”
“Yeah.” The corners of your mouth turn up. “Her dad was the same.”
She raises a brow with a playful grin. “Steve Harrington did not peg me as musically inclined, always seems like a jock.”
Your smile almost falls, but you catch yourself with a forced laugh. “Yeah guess all the sports got boring.”
“He probably loves playing her that KISS song huh?” You try to laugh again but can’t, it catches in your throat. “Well I won’t keep you. You should come by and play sometime with the kids, I’m sure Beth would love it. Have a good weekend Mrs. Harrington.”
You mutter some pleasantry and swerve past her, fleeing from the room remembering why you never come in here. You speed down the hallways, working against the current of students still attempting to rush out for the weekend. “Your door is locked.” Beth says to you standing in front of your classroom door covered in kindergarteners' hand prints on construction paper, names scribbled onto palms to mark the nineteen students you attempted to teach each day. You never thought you’d find yourself in a job like this, but all those months of teaching…him had instilled something in you, a certain interest. It wasn’t what you had ever planned on, but that seemed to be a good summary of your life.
You glance down at her, the pick necklace lying against her chest. “Yeah.” You close your eyes searching for an excuse before opening them, “I had to go grab something, sorry, where’s your brother?” She points beyond you, to the window, to the park outside. You sigh, wrapping your hand around her shoulder and guiding her towards the door that led outside. “Eddie!” You call watching his body swing upside down on a metal bar. “Edward Robin Harrington!” You shout, his eyes finally snapping towards you. “How many times have I told you not to do that?” You jog across woodchips wrapping your arms around his dangling body, “You’re going to break your neck.”
“I’m strong.” He tells you as if that is the solution to everyone’s problems.
You tilt your head to take in his face slightly, enough to really see him, the wind-tangled hair plastered to his forehead as his body sways far too high above the woodchips. “You could fall, and how will you climb if your bones are broken?” He sighs dramatically, the stubborn boy, going limp in your arms in exaggerated surrender. He lets you take his weight, tightening your hands around his waist and lifting, flipping him carefully from the bars until his little feet find the ground again.
Your son looks up at you; his eyes a pretty blend of yours and his father’s.
“Come on,” You murmur, brushing hair from his forehead. “Daddy is probably waiting for us in the parking lot.” You reach for their hands, each of their small, warm palms slipping into your own. Their fingers curl around you without hesitation, you feel the faint stickiness of cheese dust on fingertips, the oil from a marker, the calluses forming on Beth’s hand already from the guitar.
The park fades behind you, woodchips crunching under your shoes as you walk until you hit cement, four little feet pattering unevenly against the sidewalk, out of rhythm. Steve leans against the car, one ankle crossed over the other, arms folded loosely across his chest. He spots all of you almost immediately; the waiting falls away, replaced with a welcoming grin. When the children break into a run, dragging you with them, their laughter rings out sharp and bright, two pairs of feet slapping against the pavement, racing toward him. Steve straightens just in time to catch them.
“How was school?” He asked, pinching the boy’s cheeks, ruffling Beth’s curly mane of hair.
“Boring.” They say with a shared voice.
Your eyes drift, pulled helplessly, to the high school building looming across the parking lot, voices droning on beyond your reach. It rises in dull brick and dark windows, the afternoon sun reflecting harshly off the glass, making it impossible to see in. If you close your eyes hard enough, you can picture that drama room again. He’s in there, pacing around, hands moving animatedly as he drags his friends into worlds only he can see. He talks them through caves glittering with hidden treasure, pretends to be some ridiculous haughty tavern keeper with a crooked accent. He’d laugh, that full-bodied, unstoppable cackle, and the whole room would join him.
You can remember the way he’d throw himself back into that stupid ‘throne,’ proud of himself for tricking his friends. The way he’d live so completely inside every story he told. For a moment, he’s there, just beyond the doorway, laughing, alive in the next room.
“Hey.” The parking lot wind cuts across your face, carrying voices that do not belong to him. The windows are still dark, the drama room is silent now. The stories he told, the campaigns he created in his mind, the caves, the taverns, the laughter stretching late into the night, live only in the fragile space behind your ribs, where you can barely remember what his laughter sounded like.
You turn to look up at Mike Wheeler. He’s taller than you now, than he had been on your porch that Halloween night. “Holly taking forever again?”
He nods with a small smile coming to stand at the midsection of the high school and middle school beside you. “Too much teenage gossip.” You watch him taking in the other building as much as you got lost in the high school drama room, “What do you think about when you look at it?”
“D&D.” Mike scoffs then meets your gaze. “I can’t remember the sound of his laugh.”
“How could you forget that obnoxious thing?” You scrunch your nose with the grin, giving his shoulder a shove.
You motion to the middle school with your head. “What about you?”
He shrugs, “The same.”
“What was it like?” He glances at you, “To lose both of them.”
“The same.” He answers again, but you give him the space to continue. “It felt like lost potential, I don’t think I got it right in the end, I never…and then he was gone.” That strange alive, but dead boy. “Then she was gone too.”
You sighed, hand running down the length of his long arms, “I had a lot of regret, a lot of guilt for not telling Eddie about Beth, but who knows if it would have changed anything. Will Byers knew how you felt, deep down he knew, so did Jane.” You squeezed his arm, “Come by the house some time.” You beam at him, “Teach the kids a few tricks my dear Paladin.”
“Don’t think Steve Harrington would like his kids getting into all of that stuff.” He jokes.
“What stuff?” Steve asked, coming up behind you, a tender hand stroking down the skin of your bicep.
You peek up at him, “D&D.”
He rolls his eyes, “Oh god. Eddie was out on the field pretending he was a dragon, he does not need to know anything else.”
“The kid has a good imagination.” Mike points out.
“He needs to learn to catch a ball.” Steve retorts.
You pretend to adjust your work tote bag to step away from his body, Mike filling in the silence. “Maybe he doesn’t like sports.”
“He does.” You wished it wasn’t true. You cringe as you say it, “He likes basketball a lot.”
“And soccer, and he’s too young now, but he wants to do football.” Steve adds, hyping up a dream he had formed when he was younger; teaching his future son the perfect spiral. “I can just picture him now; quarterback, prom king.”
You whack him, “Don’t give him a complex.” Your eyes go to the car window where the children sit, lingering too long on Beth’s wild mane of hair, and how from here it looks so much like her father’s.
And just like that the facade slips between the gaps of sunlight in the clouds wishing Eddie’s hand was linking with your fingers and not Steve’s. You’ve had years to master that feeling, so he’s none the wiser. Mike…Mike on the other hand was no stranger to losing a great love, he saw right through you most times. You wondered if all those times he held Jane he wished it was Will Byers, if he even knew what was causing those feelings, and now both of them were lost to him.
“Come hang out.” Steve claps him on the shoulder. “Dustin is coming to visit soon during his break. We could have a few beers, catch up.”
You smiled at Mike, and Mike smiled at you; you both were faking it. “Don’t be a stranger.” He nods and you let Steve guide you towards the car.
He cups your face. The kids are in the back seat; bickering per usual. “You okay?”
You nodded, hands coming up to pull his own away from your face, “Yeah.”
He takes a step back, and opens the door for you, “Then come on I’m starving.”
You married Steve, not out of love. Well you loved Steve, but not in the way he wanted, not the kind that ruined you, consumed you. It was a companionship built on mutual respect and understanding.
Marriage had made sense. It made it easier for him to claim Beth as his daughter; legally, financially, emotionally. His last name on school forms, his signature on permission slips, his insurance card tucked into your purse like a promise that if something went wrong, you wouldn’t be alone in fixing it. He offered a quiet kind of security that wrapped around the four of you like insulation, and no one questioned why Beth looked an awful lot like that guy accused of murder in 1986; her face a perfect replica of Eddie Munson.
It was a nice perfect life for your children, it was safe.
There was laughter in the house, shared grocery lists, arguments about paint colors, family photos lining the hallway that Jonathan Byers took. It worked. It was simpler this way, easier than explaining the hollow spaces, easier than chasing ghosts, easier than building a life around something that had been lost. Steve gave the children something solid, predictable, kind.
You hoped sometimes that the kids would dig through the drawers in your vanity to find the pictures you had tucked away of you and him, just so you had a reason to abandon this horrid lie, to speak of him beyond the confines of your own mind.
You stare out of the window watching Hawkins slip past in fragments, houses blurring into streaks of faded color. Tires hum beneath you, steady in their indifference; Steve’s hand resting on the steering wheel as he drives this route like it’s nothing, like crossing a line doesn’t mean anything at all to him. The town sign grows smaller in the side mirror until it disappears entirely. He had bought a house just across the town line, not far, close enough that he still tells everyone you live in Hawkins, and it's true enough.
But you know. Your property begins 685 feet beyond the rim of that strange little town. You felt it the first time you drove the distance; the subtle shift, the way the air seemed emptier. Hawkins keeps its ghost within its limits, and you can pretend you left them in there too.
The house itself sits quiet, its paint fresh, porch wide and welcoming. It is a good house, a safe house. Steve made sure of that; solid foundation, no cracks in the basement walls to dampen two totes of items that belonged to a phantom. When you pull into the driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires, you can still see the tip of Hawkins’ water tower in the far distance if you squint between the trees.
But it had never felt like home, your home had been in that beer stained trailer with a dirty mattress. When it had been split wide, a dirt filled cavern of wasted memories, it had still been home. The barren empty land where it had once stood, the rift patched over with sand and mud and fake grass like a bandaid, it had still been home. He had been home.
In your darkest dreams, when you find you’ve wandered too close to what had been lost, you want the earth to break open, and the beast to crawl out to leave with you in its mouth, to take you home.
Not this perfect little house.
Steve closes the car door, the children run up the porch and into the home shrieking as children often did. In that single moment, when everyone disappears into the house, you glance over your shoulder at the empty treeline, at the darkness held inside that never moves.
You follow your family inside.
Friday night unfolds as it always does, almost rehearsed within your perfect little “ordinary” life. You have dinner with your family, the table is filled with banter and laughter. Beth recounts her day, your son interrupts every few seconds with existential childish questions, Steve complains about the adolescent hormones he was subjected to in his class, drills he was wishing to run with his team at tomorrow’s practice.
There is nothing remarkable about it.
When dinner is finished, everyone stands almost in unison. A quiet choreography you’ve all learned by heart as everyone throws dishes in the sink unceremoniously. “Careful.” You tell your son, the glass cup clanging loudly in the sink. “Homework, now.” You ruffle his hair to push him back towards the table. The water runs hot over your hands, steam curling up into the air, soap bubbles cling to your wrists. Under the amber light over the sink you catch sight of the scars along your skin, the teeth indents and torn flesh, the worst of it still sitting on your left forearm. You trace it where no one can see, where the suds hide the movement of longing.
Behind you, the children sit at the now-cleared table, textbooks spread open; pencils scratching, pages flipping. Your son sighs loudly in theatrical suffering, Steve attempting to redirect him, Beth whispering words under her breath. It is unbelievably mundane.
“Hey, Wayne called.” Steve says while you dry your pruning hands off.
You turn, leaning against the sink, steam still wafting up your back. “I’ll call him tomorrow, he’s been trying to find a good day to come for dinner.” You stare down at your feet wondering if the old man resented you for lying, or if maybe he understood what you were trying to do even if it shattered your heart every day.
“Hey mom,” Beth moves from the kitchen table, to the living room where the piano sat lowering herself onto the seat. “Play with me?”
Your throat bobs, then you're pushing off of the sink to slide in beside her. “Any request?” Your fingers rest on the keys, glancing down at her, at her warm brown eyes.
Beth thinks on it before the smile grows on her face, “Something dad liked when you were in school.” She bends back beaming at Steve still sitting at the chair in the kitchen, watching you and your daughter.
You school your features, you keep a neutral expression with the grief washing through your blood stream, to pump deoxygenated sad cells out of your skin. You flex your fingers, close your eyes, and play a song you had played far too often at the request of her father. The memories float through as fluid as the chords of the song flowing in the room, you saw him, just there, deep in the ridges of your brain beaming up at you while he flashed one of his mother’s records. It’s fuzzy, the way he spins in your memory while you stumble through your first attempt at playing the song for him. It’s hazy in a way steam builds up from hot water in the sink covering up old wounds.
Beth’s arm shifts to fall into place next to yours, picking up the notes you were playing to begin playing along with you. She was so talented in the only way Eddie was, that her soul had been made with music and the notes flowed instead of oxygen. It came as easy as breathing. “Your daddy…His mom used to play this for him when he was young, she'd put him up on her feet and dance with him around the living room.” Your left hand slows, “Then when it was just him and I, he’d put me up on his feet too to spin me around with him.”
The laughter is so faint in your memories, a fading cackle, a sweet giggle, the melding of the two, building something so sacred, like a little soul full of music. Most of the time, all you can hear is Irma Thomas.
‘Oh but anyone who knows what love is will understand.’
The song ends abruptly when Beth yanks her fingers off, “Do it.”
Your son is tugging on your arm, “Yeah mom come on.” He whines.
“Dance with dad.” Beth shoves you, and you don't want to move, don’t want to make him lie any more for you, but the floor boards creak and Steve’s hand slides onto your shoulder.
He shrugged, “Wouldn’t be the first time you ruined my shoes.”
You don’t laugh, you simply slide off of the bench to stand in front of him. Beth starts up a new song, some fancy classical melody she learned in lessons while you grab onto Steve’s shoulder wincing when you step on his shoes. It’s uncoordinated, and awkward and even little Eddie yawns. “You’re not very good at that, dad.”
Steve waves him off, and you save him from the farce by stepping back onto solid ground. He grabs your hands quickly, shoving you out, and spinning you back in with a low dip. “How about that?”
“My turn! My turn!” Eddie yells pushing you away from Steve to make him do it to him too.
You smile at your daughter, “Come here baby girl.” Her playing ceases and she's up, running towards you and you grab her by the hands to spin her around, setting her on your feet to poorly waltz with her like her father had done to you so many times.
From the outside, it would look like everything a person could ever need. A warm house, a kind spouse, two children safe and laughing while they danced. And yet, there is a small, silent space inside your chest that never quite joins in. It is untouched by the warmth remembering a different kind of Friday night. An illusion you’ve created, believing if you lied enough the time would pass, and you could stop wishing to wake up in another life
You spin Beth out towards Steve and shrink back against the piano bench before sitting down on it watching, waiting for the time to pass, wondering when you’ll feel like you fit within your own skin.
The kids are showered and asleep in bed when you slip out front. The night air greets you, the porch boards creak under your weight as you sit on the steps staring out at the trees crowding close to the house, tall and unmoving, their tops whispering to each other in the faint wind. Beyond them, nothing but darkness.
You stare at the tree line as if it might answer something.
“Here.” Steve presses a glass of wine into your hand before lowering himself onto the porch steps beside you. He cracks open a can of beer, the sharp hiss loud in the quiet, he watches you for a moment instead of drinking. “You seem somewhere else today.”
You don’t look at him. “I saw his picture today.” Your voice is distant, wine slipping down your throat to settle heavy in your stomach. Your eyes are unfocused, fixed somewhere past the trees, past the dark, past this house that was so deliberately away from everything. The porch light casts a soft yellow halo around your feet, moths throwing themselves against it again and again, small bodies tapping against the glass, the sound is faint, relentless.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Steve exhales slowly beside you, tired in that quiet way grief makes everyone tired. “You shouldn’t confuse them with stuff about him, she’s going to start asking my mom questions about it.”
You didn’t care, you wished someone would ask you. You apologize anyway after another drink, “Yeah, sorry it slipped out.”
“Beth said she got up the other night and saw you sleepwalking outside.” You spin the stem around your fingers, the liquid swirling in the base. You didn’t sleepwalk. “I thought we were past this.”
You look at him, “What if he…” It trails away from you. Steve takes a drink of beer. He doesn’t respond; he has learned there's no convincing you one way or another. “I can’t…just not wonder, worry, I don’t know.”
“Have you seen him since that night?”
“No.” You look down at your empty hand, the little ring you wore on the left one, the big silver one still on your thumb. You trace the scar there, the indents of teeth faded into pale wounds. You press into them, digging your nail into the memory of it. You wish it was still fresh, still aching and bleeding, so you could touch the pain, so you could feel something physical instead of this endless, shapeless absence. Steve pulls your hand away to hold in his own, “I should have…” Shot him, ran away with him, anything but this out of body lie you lived inside of.
The trees sway, unknowing witnesses to your turmoil, the night remaining intact. The world was no longer cracked open, and the darkness beyond would not fill with the familiar looming shapes, it would not reflect his eyes off of the porch light. It would only kill the moths.
Steve’s thumb strokes along your hand. “It’s for the best. You’re safe, the kids are safe and happy.” He doesn’t pretend you’re happy, you weren’t. You missed Eddie, you missed the way his teeth sank into you if that was the only way you could have him. You tried to move on, you had built a life out of careful pieces; Steve, the children, the house 685 feet over the town line. Some days were harder than others, an ache for Eddie like a hammer against your ribs. You worried constantly about what became of him, alone out in the wild dark woods without you.
“I know.” You don’t even try to sound convincing.
“Stop going out there.” It isn’t a demand. It’s a quiet plea, worried if he spoke too loud it might pull apart the fabric of the life you’ve stitched together. You nod, it’s a lie.
It isn’t constant. You promised yourself that you would no longer chase his ghost, promised to be present in this lifetime for the children. Every now and then, in snow, in rain, in the long stretches of empty, unyielding forest, you wait at the edge of town for him to come for you. You walk paths that lead nowhere, calling his name into an abyss, silence echoing it back to you. You occasionally found yourself fishing the newspaper out of the trash to search through articles or listen in on eavesdropped gossip for any hint of strange animal attacks, altered migration habits, disappearing herds of doe only to end up following empty trails to return home with mud splattered shoes and suppressed disappointment.
You take another slow sip letting him wrap an arm around you, letting him pull you back against his chest. Maybe one day you’d find the nerve, finally let go of all the yearning for him that lives in your bones, let it spill out into the dark. Maybe one day you would stop missing him so completely.
Today was not the day.
The night air wraps around you like a shroud, you rest against Steve, tasting the wine, swallowing down the grief just as bitterly, letting the night cradle the sorrow you cannot let go. You force a change in subject, “I may have told Beth’s music teacher you played the guitar.”
He swears against metal, taking a drink. “What if she asks me to play for her?” You shrug against him. You wonder if Beth suspected he wasn’t her father, if when she looked at him she noticed all the pieces of her that didn’t fit, that if she did find those photos you have hidden away she would see who completed the other half of her face.
“Lie.” You whisper. “Tell her you’re out of practice.”
His arms seem to tighten around you, hoping to keep you grounded, anchored to him instead of the darkness sweeping you out in it. His heart beats so normally beneath your spine, “Come to bed.”
You had kept separate bedrooms, claiming yours was an extra guest room, an office, knowing your nights were too haunted to share with anyone but the dark. But as the children grew, as they became aware, crawling into your bed in the morning, you found it would be too odd to find their parents worlds apart. To have a normal life, you supposed you had to be normal too, to feel you belonged to it.
It’s the hour of the wolf when you climb out of your bed. The mattress dips beside you where Steve sleeps, deep and oblivious, unaware of the ritual that has claimed you for years. You pause for a moment, listening to the quiet rhythm of his breathing, the soft rise and fall of his chest before you pad across the room. You go downstairs, gathering the things you need like it is second nature; the raw meat wrapped in butcher paper, the photos with frozen smiles. You slip on your shoes letting the door silently click behind you to disappear into the night.
You step over your property line, past the border that Steve and everyone else treats as invisible, into the woods beyond it. Branches snag at your hair, scrape your cheeks, bending toward you, the forest shielding you, hiding you from the world you can’t entirely inhabit anymore. Here, in the woods, your grief can take up space, it can stretch itself, raw and endless. The dark doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t demand you let things go, or move on. It just is, and you move into it willingly, the long tether of fabric still searching for its unfinished tapestry.
You stop.
You set the raw meat on the damp ground and kneel beside the photos, squatting low to spread them out, arranging the fragments of your family into neat, impossible rows. The cold presses through your pants, the dirt clinging to your knees, but you barely notice. Each image is a memory, a moment captured in stillness, a life that continues even as you sit alone in the dark woods. “Beth’s teacher said she's very musically gifted, she has a particular proclivity for the guitar.” You pointed to the picture of her, “We finally gave her one of your guitars this past holiday, she was really excited.” Your fingers hover over another one, your son. “Eddie is more into sports, but I think that’s because of Steve. He did a little basketball camp in the winter and is joining little league soon, Steve volunteered to coach. I think he’s using it as an excuse to make his team help him.” You smile to yourself, “He likes to climb, and likes to give his mother a heart attack most of the time because of it.”
You allow yourself the smallest, sharpest pang of joy, their lives are moving forward, growing, full of ordinary milestones and tiny victories. Yet, there was a gap, an ache for a shape that will never return, for the man who should be here to witness every common thing. The photos are evidence of life continuing without him, proof that the world didn’t stop even if to you it did.
Crickets chirp, a frog hops into some puddle of water, and the night moves on around you just as it always does. I wish you were here.
You hug yourself, crying, so used to it now it barely registers until your hand gets wet. “Dustin is almost done with graduate school.” You point to the picture of him and you when you visited him at college. “He’s coming to visit soon.” The words hang in the night, pointless, because no one responds and he doesn’t remember how to. He never could. “You should have ran with me.” You whisper. “I should have forced you to run instead of letting you pretend to be a hero.”
A light wind blows dry leaves around your feet, carrying the scent of soil and decay. The silence encompasses you, a heavy presence pressing down on you from all sides.
“It hurts.” It comes out jagged and frayed. You press your face into your knees, photos scattered around you like bones. “It hurts to miss you. I’m so sick of the pain.” You pick your head up and sniff. “I love you. I hope you’re okay out there.”
Nothing moves but a black night seeping between the seams of the world.
“I’m so alone out here.” You close your eyes, reaching out into the darkness. “I’m so alone without you.”
The darkness reaches back, long nails ghosting up your wrist, skin to bone.
endnotes: when i had this idea i had a whole concept planned out and when i started writing, the story that poured out was not what i thought it would be. this wasn't the original ending nor the second or third version, but its the one these characters guided me towards. u can deff tell when i was inspired by the part of a house in Nebraska when the guitar comes in at 6:24 :) love u all!!
Summary: Vampires are coming out of the Upside Down and going mainstream in Hawkins. Because of that, the town has become a bit of a tourist destination for people fascinated by vampire lore and the supernatural. Trying to outrun the dark secrets of your past, you decide to lay low in the small town and get a job at a human/vampire crossover bar called Main Vein. You are a recluse who drives a hearse; you have plenty of scars both internal and external. It's been 10 years since Eddie was turned, and the trailer park he lives in is nothing but vampires, that is, until you move in next door. Typical you: running from danger only to find it again.
Warnings: smut, monster (kind of faun) fucking, mention of blood, reader is a bit antisocial, angst with happy ending because I’m an irreducible romantic 🖤
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
You’re not supposed to be here.
You never liked Halloween, not the way your friends do, at least.
They seek wild jump scares and bursts of adrenaline, the sticky mess of fake blood, the spooky masks and plastic props—anything that makes them squeal and laugh and run.
But you? You just suffer it.
You have just enrolled in college, but you're still afraid of the dark—literally.
You’ve never been good with loud crowds too, never liked the forced closeness of parties, or the way exaggerated laughter and trifling chats seem to vortex around you meaninglessly, as if you’re behind a shatterproof glass.
But your friends—if you can call them that—don’t get it.
They always fill up their cars with commercial music, cheap alcohol and shrill screams—their excitement contagious in the worst way possible.
They drag you out, promising ‘you’ll love it, that you need this, that it’ll be so good for you to cut loose for once’.
But you know the truth: you follow them only because you are too weak to fight.
That’s always been your special gift: saying yes when you want to say no, just to avoid problems.
So, when they shove you through the main rusted iron gates of the corn maze, you’re already a bundle of nerves.
Not from the cold—the night is almost too damp with decay—but from the prickling feeling that you should not be here.
You prefer quiet, books, tea, old rock music, fantasy movies…
But here you are, anyway.
The corn field looms in front of you, all jagged silhouettes and restless shadows in the cool wind of the night.
You pull your ‘Nightmare before Christmas’ hoodie tighter on your body, trying to shrink yourself down, hoping to turn invisible.
The stalks are taller than you remember—is it normal?—, the tips curling like slender claws, paths churned to mud by the previous rain and dozens of scuffling feet.
There are people ahead, stumbling and shrieking, but their laughter feels strange, hollowed out by the dark.
A dripping red, hand-painted scratched wooden sign, declares:
WELCOME TO THE HAUNTED CORN MAZE.
DON’T GET LOST.
DON’T GET FOUND.
One of your friends nudges your elbow.
“Come on, don’t chicken out now babe!”
You paste on a tense smile.
“I’m not scared,” you lie, voice too high.
“Yeah right—just try not to pass out, okay?”
Everyone laughs and you want to disappear.
At the entrance the ticket girl stamps your wrist, smiling encouragingly at your worried expression.
You follow the others inside like a good puppy, keeping to the back.
They rush ahead, squealing and pushing, determined to make every corner a stupid, terrifying moment.
At first, it’s almost cliché.
Strobe lights, growls and screams through hidden speakers, rustling masked actors in the thick stalks.
But then, the path begins to close around you, walls of corn pressing in.
You try to keep your friends in sight, but they’re faster—always have been, in everything.
They don’t look back for you.
You lose track.
Left, right, left. Right again.
Someone screams from an indefinite point ahead and you realize the sound is thinning out.
The maze is eating sounds like a sentient thing, breathing—alive.
The distant voices dies, replaced by a hush that’s too deep, too greedy.
You call out, but no one answers.
How did you get so turned around?
You can’t even remember which way you came.
You stop, spinning on yourself in a dry clearing.
No sign of a living soul, no sound but your own shallow breath.
Panic rises fast in your system, acid in your throat.
You press your fingers on your nose and mouth, fighting the urge to cry.
Just keep moving.
The path seems to be endless, curling away from you deeper and deeper in the darkness.
“Fuck—”
You force one foot in front of the other, careful not to slip on the slosh, hugging yourself for courage.
Looking around frantically, your breath broke when the moon suddenly slips out of the horizon, full and red, casting the maze in an eerie light.
A chill runs down your spine like a cruel ice cube: you're passionate about astronomy, and you know it’s not full phase time.
Least of all, bloody moon.
“Fuck—fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!”
You hurry your pace without even knowing where to go but then, you hear it.
A sound that’s wrong—not a fake chainsaw, not a creepy yelling clown, but the slow, steady clop of hooves on dirt.
Heavy. Patient. Getting closer.
Someone—something, snorted behind you.
You run.
You run breathless, slipping in the mud, corn leaves whipping your face.
Behind you, the hooves keep pace, measured and inexorable.
Suddenly a strong hand catches your arm, tearing the fabric apart.
You scream, wrenching free, but you don’t get far.
A strange figure blocks the path now, tall and lean, towering above you against the moonlight.
A man—a… creature.
The first thing you see are his eyes—hazelnut chocolate, red striated, deep and unblinking, but soulful.
A pair of black horns curve from tangled wavy, long hair.
Full lips curl into a mischievous smirk.
Hard jaw.
His broad chest is bare and tattooed, arms strong, big hands, thick fingers and long nails.
A strip of brown fur begins under his navel and from hips down he’s nothing but muscular thighs and dense pelt, hooves digging furrows in the soil.
A long tail lashes behind him, snapping the night like a whip.
He lowers his head slowly, sniffing the air just before your face.
When he speaks his voice is deep, hoarse—ipnotic.
“Lost, little one?”
You open your mouth to scream, but nothing comes out.
His nostrils flare, drinking in your scent.
He circles you, the smell of spicy sweat and wet earth and something stranger winding around your senses.
He leans closer, lips brushing your ear, his voice a growl you feel reverb in your shaking bones.
“I can smell your fear. It’s so sweet. But I wonder…”
A pause—heavy, charged, dangerous.
“…what would you taste like?”
You try to speak, but the words die in your narrowing throat.
Your body wants to run, but your legs betray you, rooted in place by terror—and something else, something shameful, hot and absurd curling raw in your belly.
His fingers lifts your chin up.
“Are you here to play, pretty human?” His grin is all teeth and bad promises. “Or do you want to be hunted?”
You back away, starting to cry softly and he lets you do it, but there’s nowhere to go—the maze has closed behind you.
You force out a whisper.
“Please… don’t hurt me.”
He tilts his head, considering.
His gaze drops over you—hungry, consuming, undressing you with animal frankness.
“I could, so easily indeed,” he chuckled, stepping closer—so close you feel the heat pouring off him, the musk rising into the cool air. “But I won't. Not unless you beg me to.”
He leans in again, breath warm against your lips, and the world reduce to the thump of your heart and the brush of his pelt in the breeze.
“Run, little mouse. Run, if you want to be chased.”
A thrill rips through you—fear, yes, but also something wild, electric.
You try to dart past him, but his arms shoot out, corralling you with inhuman speed.
He’s careful, almost gentle, hands calloused holding you without bruising.
You look up, caught between panic and surprise.
He studies your face closely, mouth slightly parted, as if he’s never seen anything like you.
The wind howls through the maze, stalks swinging while the moon stares down, a red and spooky watchful eye.
You twist in his grip, desperate to break free, but the effort is useless.
His fingers span your waist like an iron shackle, hot and rough, the claws of his nails grazing your skin.
You dig your heels into the mud but he pulls you closer to him, right against his abdomen.
The heat rolling off him makes the damp autumn night feel suffocating.
“Let me go!” you choke, your voice trembling.
He laughs—low, guttural, vibrating against your ribs.
“You really want that?”
His head tilts, horns glinting in the crimson moonlight.
His tail flicks, snapping the corn behind you.
“Or do you just want to see what happens if you stay?”
Your heart pounds so hard it hurts.
You should scream, hit him, kick him, anything—but when his hand slides to your jaw, shifting your face up to meet his burning eyes, you go still.
Frozen. Captured.
His thumb brushes your lower lip, slowly, and you gasp.
He inhales sharply, closing his eyes.
“Gods, you reek of fear… and something even delicious like—arousal.”
His tongue flicks across his teeth,
longer than any other tongue you've ever seen.
He grins wicked at you.
“No more running already, sweetheart?”
“I…” The words dies in your throat. “What are you?”
He caresses your cheekbone, making you shiver—and not in dread.
“Are we asking the existential questions already? Wouldn't it be better to start with something simpler?”
He's teasing you, but all you can think about is how beautiful his irids are—how good his half-human body feels pressed against yours.
“My name's Eddie. What about you?”
Incredibly, you find yourself whispering your name, as if everything were normal—a regular meeting with a particular guy.
“Cute, it suits you. But let me know, little one… You feel it too, don’t you?” The words grind out like a dirty secret, gripping something in your core. “That pull. The ache. The part of you that wants the beast in the dark.”
Your knees tremble, pressing tight together as if you can hide the truth of your body from him.
But Eddie sees it—senses it, you know.
His smile widens, savage and arrogant.
“Good girl,” he purrs, the praise filthy in his mouth. “Don’t lie to me. I can smell you. I can hear the blood rushing out of your heart and into your veins.”
He makes you step back, until you’re stuck between the stalks and his body.
The brittle leaves snaps, enclosing you in a cage of corn and shadow.
One of his hand pins yours above your head, the other grab your waist, nails digging in your tender flesh.
You whimper, equal parts terror and something far more incredible gathering between your thighs.
“I should tear you open,” he brush the pulse point at the base of your neck. “But all I want is to taste you.”
Your body reacts instantly—arching, shaking, desperate for more even as your brain yells to just beg for mercy.
“Stop—please—” you stammer, twisting in his grip, but your voice fails you, thin and needy.
It doesn’t sound like a fearful prayer.
It sounds like pleading to be ruined.
He chuckles, raw and feral, the sound rattling through his chest into yours.
“You want me to stop?” His grip tighten just enough to make your skin burn where he holds you. “Then why does your heart leap every time I touch you? Why is your pussy begging to be filled?”
You shake your head, denying, but your hormones whisper your secret to the wind.
His eyes follows every tremor of your body, every shiver that ripples down your back.
“Run if you want, little mouse,” he murmurs again, digging his tongue in your ear. “Fight me. I’d enjoy the chase. But know that in the end, you'll still come back into my arms. You want it.” His teeth scrape your shell, biting softly.
“I don’t—” you start, but his fingers slide between your legs, tracing your soak cunt through the cotton.
You fall quiet, your own mind yelling ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’ in cubital printing.
He laughs dimly.
“There, sweetheart. That’s the truth. That little quiver, the way your cunt is ready for me already. You’re mine.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, nails biting your own palms, trying to will away the fire that’s spreading through you.
Eddie feel it—drinks it in.
His head dips and his tongue flicks out, tasting the sweat along your neck.
You jolt, shame and thrill tangling tight inside your stomach.
“Oh, you’re really enjoying this…”
You want to toss and cry, because he is damn right.
His hand releases your wrists only to catch your chin, forcing your gaze on his face.
He is beautiful, all power and sinful mouth.
The red moonlight burns in his irises as he smirks at you, cruel and reverent all at once.
“Tell me, little one,” he whispers, his voice dark velvet. “Do you want me to be gentle… or do you like it rough? I’ll let you choose.”
You just stare at him, wide eye and wild heart.
The caprin horns, the magnetic eyes, the hooves—all of him should terrify you.
But what really terrifies you is how much you want it.
Him.
His grin widens when he sees it—the truth breaking across your face.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he purrs. “No more hiding.”
Then, he crushes his lips to yours.
It’s not a kiss, not really.
It’s a claiming, raw and brutal, his tongue forcing past your mouth, tasting you, devouring you.
You whimper into him, struggling for breath, but the sound only makes him groan low in his chest.
“Sweet,” he growls when he finally pulls back, his lips glistening with your spit. “Like I knew you’d be.”
He lets your wrists free and you immediately embrace his thick neck, pulling him closer.
His teeth catchs your bottom lip and he drags, just enough to sting, just enough to make you cry out.
The sound is yet swallowed by his hungry assault.
His hand slides down, fingers snagging fabric until they find the hem of your leggins.
With one sharp tug he tears it, the sound splitting the night.
The cool air rushes against your bare skin, but his heat follows instantly, pressing, pinning you against the corn.
Your thighs closes tight together, instinctive, but his tail lashes impatient, forcing them apart. “No,” he snarl, breath hot against your face. “Let me see you. Let me taste you.”
You gasp and tremble, the fight draining from your muscles, replaced by something molten.
You pant, every nerve on fire, torn between shame and aching need.
Eddie fall on his knees in front of you, diving his whole face to your core through your panties, inhaling deep and moaning—an obscene, guttural sound that rattles through your soul.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re dripping. All from fear and me just touching you? My pathetic little mouse.”
His laugh is mocking, but then his nose traces the line of your covered lips—reverent and almost loving, and you slam your head against the wall of stalks.
You arch, biting your lip so hard you taste blood, but the whimper that escapes you give your pleasure away.
“Attagirl. Don’t fight it. Give yourself to me.”
His finger hook under the damp fabric and tear it down and off, with your keen help.
The cool night air kisses your wet heat and you nearly collapse, but his strong hands holds you upright by your hips.
Without breaking eye contact with you, his thick, elongated tongue slides against your pussy, savouring, spreading your slick across your folds.
You choke on a sob. “Oh God! Please—”
“Please what?” His mouth is millimetres from your pulsing desire, tongue flicking across your clit in small, rapid and cruel touches. “Tell me what you want—what you need.”
You shove your hands in his messy hair, hips rolling into his face, chasing the pressure.
He groans at the motion, at the feel of you grinding against him like a prey who not only accepts her fate, but decides to shape it. “That’s it. Use me. Beg your monster to fuck you.”
Your plea breaks free in shameless moans, ragged and desperate, and he pushes his tongue inside you, curling it—stretching, tasting, his groans rumbles deep through your core.
He tongue-fucks you merciless, his hot muscle reaching magical spots that you didn't even know you had.
“Tight little cunt,” he whispers, pumping harder, thumb grinding against your clit. “You’re made for me. Fucking perfect—Say it.”
“I—fuck!” Your voice splinters, a sob and a whine in one. “I was made for you—only you.”
That’s all Eddie needs.
With a violent rip, your hoodie is gone, shredded like paper in his claws.
The air bites your bare, sweating body, but then he’s all around you, all heat and fur and muscles.
You pant at the feel of his erection—thick, heavy, the mushy head of his cock sliding against your drenched folds.
You look down and your eyes widen in terror.
“Eddie—” He hissed in pleasure at his name being called by you for the first time, “You’re—It won't never fit—”
He lifts you up like you weight nothing, making you wrap your legs around him—his fingers spread on your ass.
His hips grind forward, coating himself in your hot slick.
“Don’t worry, little one. You’ll take me. You are born for this.”
Eddie slides a hand between you, guiding the nasty purple tip of his cock against your soaking entrance, rubbing.
“Just relax, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good.”
And then he thrusts.
The stretch is brutal, splitting you open, stealing the air from your lungs.
Your fingers claw his horns, forcing his face against your breasts.
For a moment you think you’ll break apart, but his plam clamps your hip, holding you steady while waiting, forcing you to take every inch of him with a patience you wouldn't have expected.
His groans are raw, animal, his hooves sinking in the mud with every push of his member inside you.
“Fuck—” he growls, moving faster. “You’re so tight I can feel your heartbeat in my cock. You were waiting for this, weren’t you, little mouse?”
You nod, broken, tears burning your eyes—little pain, very much overwhelming pleasure.
He pulls back, stops for a moment to watch where his body disappears into yours, then slams in again, harder, your back jolting against the stalks with the force.
The corn rustles and snaps around you, the maze itself groaning with each thrust.
He kisses you without restrains, tail lashing wild as his hips piston into you merciless.
“Take it,” he snarls against your quivering lips, one clawed hand sliding to your throat, holding you in place without choking, just reminding you of his power. “Take your monster’s cock. Scream for me.”
You obey him, but not before whispering in his point ear, “You are no monster, Eddie. You are magnificent. A God.”
That seems to undone him at all.
Each push of his hips drags a cry from your throat, each plunge deeper until you’re dizzy, until the line between pain and ecstasy disappears.
Your body answers spontaneously to him—clenching, dripping, desperate for more.
His mouth finds your tender pink nipples, teeth grazing, then biting just enough to make you squeal under him.
He sucks hard, tongue circling, marking you like his final prey claimed.
“Mine,” he growls against your neck, fucking you so senseless your vision blurs. “Only mine. Say it, damn!”
“Yours,” you whimper, sobbing, clutching at the fur of his butt as your climax builds, wild and unbearable.
“That’s fuckin’ right,” he hisses, slamming into you until your release shatters, until you scream his name into the crimson moonlight shadow.
His pace slow, but he doesn't stops—he fucks you through it, relentless, chasing his own release, still grinding into you, every thrust deep and claiming.
Eddie cups your cheeks together with a hand—fingers gentler now, thumb brushing away a tear, making you pout.
His eyes burn red and honey, but they don’t look just hungry anymore—they look… lost.
“You feel that?” he whispers, pressing a large palm into your lower belly, his cock still buried to the hilt. “All of me, inside you. Filling you, owning you. You’ll never belong to anyone else.”
His mouth crashes against yours again, teeth and tongue and heat until you’re whimpering into him, body trembling from your aftershocks.
He pulls back, forehead pressed to yours, breath ragged.
“I should’ve devoured you. I should’ve split you open and left you screaming in the dirt. But fuck—” his voice cracks, raw and guttural, “—I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to keep you.”
His thumb strokes your lip, reverent.
“You’re mine. My little mouse. My mate—”
Those words makes you clench him even deeper and Eddie throws his head back, tail thrashing wildly, his body stiffens, and with a roar that shakes the maze itself, he spills inside you, hot and abundant, filling you until you can feel it leak down your trembling thighs.
For a long moment, there is nothing but the sound of his panting, your ragged breaths and the corn whispering around you.
He rests his head on your shoulder and yours into his hair.
When he leans back to look at you, his eyes are still blazing, but softer now… loving.
He smiled.
“You have no fear of the dark anymore—ain’t you, sweetheart?” he says, voice playful.
You swallow hard, still quivering, and shake your head mirroring his smile.
“That’s good. My brave, brave girl.”
You allow yourself a sigh of tender satisfaction.
“I thought I was your little mouse...”
Eddie chuckled.
“You are, and you will be forever, if you want,” then, softer, like a secret torn from his dark heart, “I love you. I know you can't understand, but even if I was born a monster, I’ve waited my whole life for you.”
Your pulse feels like a mad horse in your throat as you stare at him in awe.
But you know he's right: he hasn't just claimed your body, but your entire being—your soul, your heart, your mind.
“Take me away,” you whisper, finally steady. “Take me with you, please.”
His grin is savage and sweet all at once.
“Forever and always,” he promises, mouth pressing on yours with no lust this time, just devotion.
“You’re mine,” he says again, as if the word itself binds you tighter to him than his hands ever could. “I’ll never let you go. I’ll never let them have you back. They don't deserve you.”
A warm shiver runs down your naked spine in recognition. You’ve never belonged out there. Not really.
The ache you’ve carried all your life has a shape now—horns, pelt, hooves—and he feels like home.
Eddie holds you in his arms like a sweaty and greedy princess and the maze opens to your passage, infinite and rustling.
The corn bends and sways, closing behind you as he carries you deeper in his unyielding hold, his chest warm and cozy on your bare skin.
The world outside—your family, your friends, the ridiculous laughter, the empty life you dragged behind you—fades with every step.
Only he remains.
You hide your face against his neck, breathing in the scent of fur, sweat and earth.
His pulse hammers like a war drum, steady and alive.
You tilt your head a little, watching his handsome hard face.
“I want to be like you. I want to love you, like you do.”
His smile is wicked, reverent and final.
“Then give yourself to me, my love. Let me tear the weakness out of you and rebuild you like me. Mine to possess, mine to love, mine to keep—until the end of time.”
Somewhere beyond the maze, sometime after, your parents wept at a shrine of flowers and candles, buring an empty white coffin with the stereotypical phrases of a priest—who didn't even known you in the background.
Your friends sat in cells with cuffs on their wrists and puffy eyes and the whole town cursed the the corn field that had take you on that damned, moonless Halloween night.
But in the dark, beneath the everlasting bloody moon, tangled in fur and heat and shadows of horns, you smile—finally happy.
The world believed you lost, but only you know the truth: you had been found—claimed, loved and finally completed.
Everyone buried the false memories they had of you, while you cum alive, again and again, in the embrace of Eddie—your beloved monster.
Synopsis: After discovering a humanoid extraterrestrial unconscious on the ground, the research team you're on takes him back to your facility to study. Upon waking, it seems you're the only one on the team he seems interested in talking to. You're the only one he seems to like.
Warnings: nsfw content; breeding kink, tentacles, pheromones and aphrodisiacs (secreted by the tentacles), size difference (eddie is like 8ft+ tall & has a cock to match), dirty talk, teasing, taunting, mockery, bondage (with tentacles), nipple play, clit play, fingering, tentacle fucking (vaginal, oral, and anal), oral (reader receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, eddie's cum is an aphrodisiac, cum play, reader swallows, unprotected sex, fucked dumb, creampies
Word Count: 7k
A/N: Hi. More Kinktober here :) This is yet another one I wrote back in May and decided to save for this celebration. This is my first attempt at writing anything relating to a breeding kink, so if it's rough around the edges, bear with me. Either way, thank you for giving it a read!
You'd volunteered. Amongst those on the research team, you appeared to be the only one brave enough to venture into the cage where your team's newly prized possession was kept. An off-world creature that'd crashed to Earth weeks ago. Humanoid in appearance, but it was…almost an uncanny valley experience.
He was bigger than most humans. Eight feet tall with twice the strength, broad shoulders, yet a slimmer waist. Eyes that were too dark and black and red inks tattooed into his bluish skin that seemed to wiggle and move when he was under observation. He had two expressions. Annoyance and amusement. Whenever someone dared to try and step near the cell he was kept in, they caught an intimidating look of annoyance, and promptly scampered away; then came his amusement.
He wore an outfit entirely of black, letting him stand out against the white walls of the metal cell. The cell you all weren't entirely sure could actually hold him. He'd been unconscious when you'd found him on the ground, and you'd put your strongest pair of cuffs on him that he'd easily broken off upon waking. Logically speaking, he could break through the cell door, then the locked metal door keeping you out from there.
But he hadn’t.
He very specifically hadn’t shown you a single thing he was capable of except the broken cuffs.
He only spoke to you.
Everyone tried at least once, but most ended up breaking under that intimidating glare he mustered up in annoyance, merely bothered by someone asking him the same question after question. What’s your name?
“Call me Eddie,” he’d said to you.
Only you.
Maybe because you hadn’t run from the room when you stepped through the door. But…when his eyes landed on you, he also turned that annoyed expression into that of amusement. Dangerous–as said not just your subconscious, but literally everyone else on your team. But since he’d spoken in the amusingly low tone, those puddles of shadow eyes locking onto you–you were his designated visitor, handler, interrogator.
“How did you end up on Earth?” you’d asked, voice trembling as his amused grin stayed as he watched you. You stayed near the door despite trying to act casual.
“My ship crashed.”
“Okay.” You’d nodded. “Do you know where your ship is?”
“Maybe.”
His teeth flashed in a teasing smile. He kicked his feet out as he dropped his head back against the cinder block wall. Silver rings adorned his fingers as he tapped them against his knee.
“Do you mean us any harm?”
“Do you mean me harm?”
You’d both stared at each other then. No matter what you’d said, he was still the one in the cell. So you’d sucked in a careful breath and came a step closer. It’d been days, and he hadn’t broken out yet. He’d eaten the food that was brought to him, so he was at least an omnivore getting sustenance. He drank the Earth’s water and didn’t shy away from the sunlight. And when the moon was out, he’d look out the tiny barred window up at the sky.
For three weeks, you went back and forth. What’d started with you only getting close enough to deliver his food slowly changed. You started stepping further into the room just to talk to him. Came closer to the center of the bars that separated you from him, the space between them so small that even a cat might struggle to squeeze through.
Sometimes, you didn't speak simply because neither of you had anything to say. You weren't simply going to let him go; you couldn't. And he very quickly showed that he wasn't one to bargain or beg. So he sat there with that amused expression three times a day when you brought him his meals. Watched with a curious gaze that, if you stumbled a little or dropped the plastic utensils, you actually got embarrassed.
It was late one night when you stared at a message from your team lead. They wanted more answers from the alien. Housing and feeding him only provided so much information. They wanted more. Otherwise, more extreme measures would be taken to do a biological study of his body.
It could’ve waited until morning, but you were still up. And it…it weighed on you. Your leg bounced and your fingers tapped and you couldn’t enjoy the book you’d picked up to attempt reading. Damn it. So you pushed from your chair, threw a lab coat on over your pajamas, and grabbed your ID badge.
He was awake when you entered, immediately perking up at the sound of the door opening, then smiling when he saw you. Wearing pants and long sleeves every day, you could see those dark eyes snag where your coat didn't cover your legs. You probably should've changed, but…it was already too late.
He said nothing as you walked up to the bars of the cell. Your breath came a little too fast, and you could see that he noticed. You were trying not to show any panic, but that wasn’t exactly your strong suit.
Surprisingly, he was the one to break the silence.
“A late hour to have an unscheduled visit,” he mused.
You nodded, peering down at your badge hanging around your neck.
“To be frank, the leader of the team in charge of our study of you–”
“Ah, so that’s why I’m locked in here against my will? To be forcibly studied by humans?”
“–and if I don’t return to him with some new information, I’m worried drastic measures might be taken in the name of science.” You blew out a long breath, catching his gaze. “If a human dropped in on your planet, would you not do the same as us?”
Eddie pushed a hand through his hair as he sat up. No. Stood.
Your heart hammered as Eddie strutted toward the bars. Eyes glued to you. He absolutely towered over you, making those bars feel like twigs when he reached his hands out to hold them. When he leaned forward, you could feel his breath tickle your forehead.
That was the closest you'd ever been to him.
"Humans are too weak to even waste rope on."
Your chest started to move faster. How much stronger were they than you? You were of flesh and bone, just as he appeared to be. He had been bleeding some kind of blood that was a rich, darker red than humans. But he’d still bled.
“I….” You flicked your eyes away, unable to hold his intense gaze. It penetrated different parts of your mind that you couldn’t afford to drift to. You were there on a specific task, and that was to make sure he was kept alive. “I just need something to give them. You were talkative in the beginning. Where did that go?”
“When you humans decided to pluck a wounded alien and lock him in a shitty excuse for a cell and treat me like a prisoner." He brought his hands down lower on the bars, and you heard them creak as his weight went against them.
“But you spoke to me. You are speaking to me.”
“You’re pretty.” He drew his eyes over you, and the flush of heat against your cheeks was involuntary. Horrendously involuntary. “And you smell fucking intoxicating.”
"We…." You closed your eyes and shook your head. A quickening of your pulse was beyond distracting, and he…he smelled good. Like honey and spice. Like all the sweet and spicy things he shouldn’t have been after being in there for weeks. "It's not intentional. You’re the first alien we’ve captured–” You shook your head again. “Encountered alive.”
“Is this how you treat guests?”
When you opened your eyes, Eddie had a hand thrown back at the blank cell. The uncomfortable bed, the toilet and sink over on the adjacent wall, the thin blankets, and the too-small window. The ugly bars and the utter and complete lack of any color besides whites and grays. No books, no television, no music–nothing.
“If I promise to bring you objects that might make your time here less…clinical, would you give me something?” you whined with a hint of an exasperated sign in your voice.
One of his brows quirked up, and the corners of his mouth followed. Pure and utter amusement that made your temperature rise to an unfortunate degree. You felt like you were going to start sweating the longer you stood under that gaze, that close to him, that…that dangerously close when he smelled so good.
“Okay.” He tilted his head. “I’ll give you something.”
“Thank you,” you said, nearly letting out a sigh of relief.
Except whatever Eddie was going to tell you, it wasn’t short. He nodded back at one of the chairs sitting far from the cell. And for a moment, you genuinely considered if you should listen. Part of you wanted to instruct him to cut it down to a shorter story, but a few other parts of you were already moving to grab the chair. You wouldn’t be able to sleep if you asked him to cut it short, and the curious side of you wanted to know what the entirety of it would be. And as a researcher, you were quite literally talking to a fucking alien. You had to hear out every detail.
You plopped the chair directly in front of the bars and sat back. There was a camera with audio that’d capture the words for you, although your hands still yearned to have something to hold. To write with. To take notes of his little, more subtle reactions.
"I'll give you a few things to bring back to them; how's that?" he asked, still standing where you'd left him.
You nodded.
Gradually he knelt to the ground, coming eye to eye with you even in the chair. Your heart thundered as you watched his fingers curl around the bars of the cell. They drew lines over the edges, tapped at it, clinked metal against metal as he moved them. The temperature stayed risen and you shifted in the chair. Was the air conditioner out in the cell?
“Do you know what we use humans for on my planet?” he whispered. When he brought his hands all the way down, his fingers brushed your shins. You hadn’t…you hadn’t fucking paid attention to how close your legs were to the cell.
You jolted at the contact–warm and rough and so light that it almost tickled. You started to pull back, but your skin felt warm and fuzzy from where he'd grazed it, and when his fingers grazed them again, you had a hard time pulling back. Had a hard time wanting to pull back.
“Do you eat them?” you asked, your breath shaking hard as your eyes stayed on his fingers. They drew long, tickling lines over your shins.
You squirmed a little in your seat, the feeling crawling up your legs and making your thighs tense.
Eddie barked out a laugh and shook his head.
“No, we fuck them.”
Your eyes jerked up to his, and your breath caught. His fingers…still moved on your legs, and your thighs were suddenly tensing hard.
“We breed with them,” he added. “Apparently, our pheromones interact real fucking well together.” He brought a hand down, down, down to where sneakers stayed on your feet. His fingers curled around the backs as best as he could manage in that position, and with a gentle tug, your shoes came off one by one.
Something deep and low inside your abdomen clenched. It worsened when he did the same motion with your socks, and your feet were bare. One drag of his finger over the bare bottom of your foot sent a jolt of something nearly unbearable up your legs and settled right between them.
"You breed with humans?" you muttered. "And…." You couldn't think straight when your eyes locked, and he repeated that same drag of his finger on the bottom of your other foot. Another jolt went to your cunt. Your clit. Your legs started to part, and before you could let them, you crossed them. "And it's…if it's your sexual and reproducing habits you wish to share, please. Just…."
You waved a hand at him. Information was information. And knowing how a species remained a living species was important. Even if, for some reason, you were starting to breathe heavier, your heart was beginning to race, and your cunt was…clenching.
His dark eyes fell, and his finger dragged over the top of your foot. The new feeling made your shift in position a sudden betrayal. When your thighs twitched, they did so right against your clit. You would've uncrossed them were you trying not to appear far more composed than you were.
You should’ve pushed the chair back.
But every inch of you wanted to keep it there. Near him.
“Are you going to fault us if I tell you that we bask in pleasure?” He snorted out a laugh, and his finger brushed the underside of your foot again. Another betraying flutter of your thighs and your cunt. “We fuck to fuck. To please each other. To breed, yeah. But we don’t shy away from enjoyment.”
He curled two fingers against the bottom of your foot, and there was no chance in hell you weren't going to imagine them curling like that inside you. You felt your gush at the thought, ruining your underwear that already felt damp.
Fuck.
"And there's so much fucking enjoyment in fucking humans." He lifted his shoulders as he sucked in an amused breath. Those dark eyes glinted with lust when they landed back on you. "You lack a distinct physical trait that we have, which makes it all the better."
You swallowed hard. Your eyes were glued to his as you felt his fingers move over your foot again. Long, teasing draws that had you squeezing your thighs tighter. Your nipples poked through your shirt, your lack of a bra a poor choice even with the coat. It acted as your only covering as you sat there.
You opened your mouth to speak, and a shuddering breath came instead. Eddie’s mouth quirked into a cruel smile. He seemed entirely uncaring to hide any enjoyment he gained from your shifting reactions.
“And what trait is that?” you managed to ask, voice horrendously breathy.
You tried to clear your throat, but it just came out as a poor cover for the obvious.
Eddie's grin grew even wider, a wickedness joining it. Down on your feet, you felt his fingers curl against them again, reaching back and grazing your heels. Then, the tops of your feet. Then…your ankles?
“Look down, (Y/N).”
Fear shot through you as you instantly dropped your gaze. Light blue tendrils coiled around your ankles, bringing your legs apart. The two of them slid through the bars with ease, curling higher over your shins, knees, and lower thighs. You lifted your hands as they tugged you to the edge of the seat, allowing them a little more space to coil around your mid-thigh. Slimy yet warm to the touch. Little slits on the ends caught your attention just as they started to pry your legs further apart.
“Open the cell,” Eddie murmured.
Your eyes jerked up to his. “What?”
You were already panting. The struggle on where to focus was impossible. The tendrils gradually climbed higher, now on your upper thigh, slithering over the sensitive skin there. Or on his wicked expression. What was he…. What was this…?
"Open the cell, and I'll give you a first-hand experience of what being bred by one of us is like." He tilted his head. "For research, of course."
You shook your head, eyes going back down to where the tentacles climbed higher. The ends slipped beneath the hem of your shorts, tickling the hidden skin there. Close. They kept your legs open, and they were absurdly close to where you felt yourself betraying what was rational thought.
“I…I can’t. I can’t. I can’t let you go. I–”
"Do you think I'm not able to fucking break the door off its hinges?" He eyes the cell door just down the way. It required a key card of your clearance level to open it, so it was feasible. But…but you…. You glanced at where thick muscles flexed in his arms. He wasn't bluffing, was he?
"Then why haven't you?" you sputtered; the tentacles roamed higher, skating over your hips but not curling toward your cunt. They curled and slithered, touching every new inch of you, and Eddie…could feel it. It wasn't like they had some mind of their own. He had his eyes down on where they moved beneath your clothes. Where they slid beneath the elastic of your underwear and slid up over your lower stomach. "Why not just break out and leave?"
“Because you’re pretty.” Eddie leaned forward again, causing the bars to really creak under his weight. One of the tentacles started to creep closer to your cunt. “And I weighed my options. Staying here where I can breed you won out over trying to find and repair my busted ship.”
It was like a zing through you. Everything came alight as his words fell over you. Like…like something clicked into place, and all you felt was that urge. The unbearable, overwhelming desperation to satisfy the ache in your clit. To have him do it. Was it…the pheromones, you fucking idiot. You felt yourself actually come close to drooling as he motioned to the door again with his head.
In a low whisper that broke away the last of your senses, Eddie said, "Open the door, (Y/N)."
Before you could close your fingers around the ID on your neck, another tentacle came in and snatched it, breaking the lanyard that held it. You gasped at the sudden strength that broke it away, and your heart pounded as the tentacle brought the badge up to the sensor.
One beep. Two. Three. Four.
Then the lock clicked.
And when the door swung open, Eddie’s grin was downright diabolical.
As your cunt clenched and heart pounded, your eyes locked with Eddie’s.
A low growl started in his chest and pushed through his teeth.
“Give me that pretty cunt.”
The bars of the cell were cruel against your back. Your coat had fallen off in your scuffle, but you were still fully clothed when his tentacles found their way back to you. Up you went against the bars, locked and bound against them as Eddie walked up to you. The tendrils came from the bottom of his pants and his back, all different shapes and sizes, some with ridges, some without. Some had slits at the end, and others didn't.
You were only given a glimpse at a few as they coiled around you in tightening grips, prying your legs as open as they’d go and lifting your arms up above your head. His name sputtered from your lips as he stalked toward you until he was right in front of you, his dark eyes drawing over you like a predator watching a prey squirm in his perfectly laid trap.
And just as his eyes fell down to your cunt, a tentacle slid into your shorts. The slimy, warm thing grazed over top of your underwear, slithering over your cunt with a taunting burst of pleasure that was far too great for merely that little contact. And before you could even register it, tugging hard on those that held you still while you writhed from just that, the tendril moved.
It curled around the outside of your shorts, and when it came around the crotch, it grazed your cunt only briefly. And then, with a tug, cold air hit your bare cunt.
“Fuck, (Y/N),” Eddie said with a snorting laugh.
His fingers looked twice the size of yours. He was pulling off the rings as he peered down at your cunt. Dripping. You…you could feel it dripping. And under that burning gaze, you felt yourself clench.
As he tucked his rings into his front pocket, you were momentarily distracted as two tentacles found their way to the bottom of your shirt. Yes. You hadn't meant to suddenly arch your back and push your chest out. But as the tentacles curled and began to drag your shirt up, every brush of the thick fabric against your nipples was like torture. You needed it off. You needed the thick, too-fucking-hot material off. Off.
Eddie crossed his arms as your shirt was yanked up and your tits were exposed. Your chest heaved with every newly needy breath, and you…you couldn’t keep your eyes open under Eddie’s hungry gaze. When had he gained such an upper hand? You shook your head to yourself. Two tentacles were crawling over your stomach and curling over your tits. The new sensation sent pleasure through your veins that was almost overwhelming, but then the thin ends flicked at your nipples, and you damn near shrieked.
You yanked on those holding you still, but it was to no avail.
The ones flicking your nipples coiled like springs around the taut peaks and tugged. Your next sound became a harsh moan, and your shoulders pressed back against the bars of the cell. Oh, fuck. You writhed as much as you could under the feeling. So fucking good. So taunting. So teasing.
"Oh, fuck," you muttered as they moved and…and the slits on the end opened wider. A flash of Eddie's grin sent anticipation to your cunt, and that was all the warning you had before there was a sudden burning, tingling suction on your nipples. "Fuck.”
You jerked harder than before and pressed your head back. Your eyes clamped shut as the tentacles seeped something onto your nipples as they sucked them, tugging and tweaking them in the process. It…it was fucking unbearable. Your cunt clenched far too empty, and your clit yearned for stimulation.
“Eddie," you whined. Like this wasn't the first time. Like there was a true familiarity between you. Like you could put trust in him to listen to you. To please you.
You’d held him captive in a fucking cell for research.
He owed you nothing.
Your mouth opened on another whine. Whatever was seeping from the tendrils needed to be taken as a sample. It was sending ripples of pleasure through your nerves that only accentuated the unbearable desire dripping from your cunt. You were going to go mad if he didn’t start touching your cunt. If he didn’t slot himself inside you.
Your whine never made it out, though. A thick, smooth tentacle plunged into your mouth, filling the space back until you gagged.
“Suck,” Eddie outright commanded.
And the tentacle moved before you could even grunt out any kind of response.
You sucked. It seeped that same liquid as the other two, and–holy fuck–on your tongue, it tasted like sugar. Sweet, sweet sugar that made your eyes widen and your cunt drip. You even tried to close your legs to get any kind of contact, but it was a no-go. Not a single tendril holding you let up. You were bound in the air against those bars, eyes locked on Eddie's as the tentacles sucked your nipples and the third fucked your mouth like you wanted him fucking your cunt.
“You’re so obedient,” he whispered, drawing his eyes back over you. “You’ll be fun to breed.”
He brought his hand lower, and there–fucking finally–his fingers brushed your clit. Two tentacles came down to keep your hood back and cunt parted, leaving your clit uncovered, unprotected, and bare to every agonizingly slow drag Eddie gave it. But that wasn’t the worst of it. You could hardly breathe around the tentacle in your mouth as Eddie started to sink to his knees.
Was…was he…?
His long hair tickled your thighs, and his hands splayed on your hips. His tongue was warm, wet, and fucking precise over your clit. You cried around the tentacle pumping into your mouth. Tears pricked at your eyes as it fucked your mouth faster, and Eddie closed his lips around your clit and sucked. Hard.
As your cunt started to flutter, his fingers moved.
He gave you no warning before he pressed one finger into you. Massive. Filling. You whined and writhed, already feeling your climax growing closer. So…so strong, too. It was rippling toward you with heavy, harsh steps. Far more potent than normal. And more…more of that liquid secreted from the tentacle in your mouth, and you started to burn from the inside out. Your cunt clenched around Eddie's fingers, and your clit swelled.
There. There. There. There.
You kicked and yanked and wiggled your hips as the pleasure overwhelmed. Thrashing in the tentacles only made Eddie beam against your cunt, and he lapped harder and faster at your clit. More. More. More. Until–
“Fuck,” you cried over the tentacle in your mouth.
The ones on your nipples sucked and tweaked at the hard. The one in your mouth secreted more of that sweet-tasting liquid. And Eddie dove a second finger into your cunt as he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue with unbearably fast licks.
You gushed more than just a few drops around his fingers, and you shook as your orgasm ripped through you like a threat. Powerful and cruel, you screamed. Your cunt convulsed around his thick fingers, unable to withstand how they curled and tortured your sweet spot. You tried to pull your clit away from his tongue, pull your tits from the tentacles flicking at them, but the second you tried, the more your body didn’t want to. And you were leaning back into them with a rejuvenated ache as your body battled between that powerful climax and the maddening urge for another.
More.
So many fucking more.
You moaned his name around the tentacle, tears building behind your eyes as you looked down at him with a half-lidded gaze. He pulled back to meet it, a wild, wicked grin matching the burn in his eyes. And slowly, he pulled his fingers out. Slowly, he left you feeling awfully empty. And as you watched him lick them clean, the agonizing drag of his tongue over what wasn’t your cunt, two tentacles moved.
Your head banged against the metal bars as one with thick, rhythmic ridges pressed into your cunt and the other slithered over your clit. In tandem, they fucked you. Eddie knelt on the floor, watching them work you. Over your clit, that…that liquid was secreted, and you started to shake your head. It wasn't possible to withstand it. It felt like…like you hadn't just cum. Not like he'd taken the climax away, but beneath that liquid that only seemed to keep leaking onto your clit, letting the tendril suck and glide and flick and circle over it, your clit was throbbing like it'd never been touched before.
In your mouth, the tendril started to pulsate. And…and the one inside your cunt started to thrust deeper. Holy fuck. You threw your head back again, letting the sound of it hitting the bars ring out again. Eddie snorted as you tried to open your legs more for the tentacle, but you were as open as you’d get.
As it fucked you, it hit spaces you hadn't ever touched before. And you were hopeless to your next climax.
To your next three.
Eddie sat right there on the ground, watching as his tentacles fucked you. Sucked, licked, slithered, bound, and plunged into you. You were drunk on whatever the hell was making you pant and burn and drip with endless desire. You could've told him that you loved him. You'd never felt so good. Never knew such a pleasure could be so painful yet still so overwhelmingly wonderful; you never wanted it to end.
You cried around the tentacle in your mouth each time you came in quick succession. You could hear yourself dripping onto the floor as you clenched around the tentacle in your cunt. And as you came down from the third climax, body sensitive yet still feeling even close to satisfied, the tentacles started to pulse again. The one in your mouth and the one inside your cunt. They moved faster, and the one on your clit started to suck just like the ones on your nipples.
Eddie’s breathing got faster, and you looked at him with blurry vision, watching him fuck you with that bulbous tentacle as the rest threw you closer and closer to another climax. And they pulsed more. Pulsed faster. Until there was a red hue on Eddie’s pale blue-skinned cheeks, and his mouth parted with a shuddering sigh.
His lips curled into that cruel grin. A second later, the pulsing stopped, and the tentacle pushed deeper into you. Mouth and cunt alike. And there was a burst. In your mouth, that sugary sweet taste erupted in a mouthful that you struggled to keep there, subconsciously swallowing as some dribbled down your chin. And inside you, it made every inch of you burn alight. Burn anew. You came with them, shuddering as pleasure seared itself into you, going nowhere as you swallowed the last few drops of what the tentacle in your mouth gave you.
It pulled out as another came up.
The one inside your cunt slipped from you, leaving you feeling stuffed and empty at the same time. That dripping noise continued as another tendril snaked up. Eddie watched with that wicked expression as both tendrils pressed into you. Mouth and cunt, again. And you couldn't even pretend to fight it. Your body ached for more. You weren't able to keep track of how many times he'd made you cum, but you needed more. You…you needed to taste that sweet, sugary flavor again.
"There you go," he mused with a low, hoarse voice. He licked his lips as his eyes fell to your cunt. You took the next, larger tendril eagerly. It stretched you more than the last one did, and it angled itself to press against your sweet spot that had you already gushing. "Let me stuff you."
Eddie rose to his feet slowly, getting directly in front of you as he unbuckled his belt. You sobbed as you came again, and it wasn’t long before the tentacle inside you spilled just as the last did. It was replaced by another. It was larger. Thicker. Had more ridges. And it went slower as you stretched around it, adjusting to its size. And the second you did, you found yourself on the verge of climaxing already. With the added stimulation on your clit and nipples, verging on too much just before you got more of that sweet taste in your mouth, you were hardly able to catch a breath between climaxes.
“Let me fucking breed you like I know you want me to,” he whispered against your cheek, tongue flicking out to lick at your tears.
A few more fell as you came again. The pleasure was so strong, you gushed around his tentacle again, more this time. More than just a few drops fell to the floor, and Eddie shuddered against you. He moved his hands as he licked at your cheek again, then your jaw, neck, and then over your collarbone. Tasting all the sweet tears you were spilling for him.
And in the process? Not only did a tiny tendril go to your backside, slipping beneath your shorts to secrete that substance against your asshole, no bigger than your pinkie, it teased the tip–in and out. Again and again, making you clench around it as it pressed a little further into your ass. It gradually started to expand when the sudden stretch accompanied by the secreted substance broke you. You sobbed once more, real tears slipping and not stopping as you climaxed.
The tendril in your ass started to thrust.
The one in your cunt spilled its seed inside you, leaving you dripping and feeling so filled, you couldn’t think properly.
Except you weren’t done. As the tentacle in your mouth pulsed and spilled another mouthful for you to swallow–which you eagerly did–it wasn’t another tentacle slipping up your thighs to your cunt. Your mouth remained empty as your eyes widened at his cock. Thick, large, and fucking…. You sucked in needy breath after breath. It was larger than the last tentacle you’d taken, and that had been a filling experience. And with the one currently making your eyes water as it plunged into your ass, you weren’t sure he’d…fit.
Even still, he pressed his leaking tip against your entrance. One hand came up and gripped your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on him. His thumb swiped over your glistening lips as he pressed his hips forward, giving you a stretch that nearly made you cum from that alone as he so gradually filled you.
“You should see how much you’ve taken,” he mused, leaning forward just enough to feel his lips brush over yours. “You can’t even hold it all in.”
Eddie’s hips snapped, giving you the last little bit of his cock, and you shuddered. Huge. The tentacle in your ass started to move faster. Fucked you a little harder. The ones on your nipples turned to light sucking, and the one on your clit…. You pressed your head back as it gently stroked you. Not enough. Purposefully not enough? You felt tears spill down your cheeks before you could even hope to stop them, and Eddie had his tongue on them right before he drew out and pressed right back in.
The entire wall that the bars made up shook with every thrust. He clung to them with one hand and had another on you, holding you as if the tendrils weren't enough to keep you steady. He grunted against your cheek with every deep thrust, and you were simply able to take what he gave you. You trembled as his cock dragged against that sweet spot again and again and again. The dripping continued, and there must've been an entire puddle on the floor. You squirmed as much as you could like that, wishing to claw at his back as he fucked you.
But you were stuck with your arms up, head back, nipples sucked, ass fucked, and clit stroked.
It was only a matter of a few moments before you were reaching your breaking point.
The way his cock plunged into you in syncopated rhythm with the one in your ass was sending you to heaven. Ecstasy plunged through your veins in an ever-increasing sensation that made your toes curl and your back arch. Eddie growled against your jaw, and suddenly, his thrusts were growing rougher. You would've worried about the bars getting knocked loose with how hard he was fucking you, but you couldn't care.
Not when the tendril on your clit stroked it faster, and suddenly you were there. Thrown into the chaotic tornado of pleasure that tore through you. It ripped from head to toe until you were gushing over his cock. Clenched and squeezing and sobbing out his name. You convulsed over him, body trembling as you came too hard to even think. Things almost went white-hot, and then you felt him reach his peak.
First, the one in your ass spilled, filling you until you felt yourself leaking. It shrank in size before pulling out, leaving you feeling sticky and empty. But not for long. That sensation was washed away mere seconds later when Eddie grunted and rutted into you hard, making the metal bars creak in the process.
He spilled inside you with a low, threatening growl.
“Take it all.” He rutted his hips, burying his face into your neck. “Take it all, (Y/N).”
Your toes curled as he stuffed you, leaving you feeling dizzy as he slotted his cock deep. He came with a tremble of his own body, rocking himself against you until he was seemingly milked dry. And you…you dripped, sticky, and full. You were dizzy as Eddie left kisses against your neck and jaw; nothing tender, nothing sweet. Like he was marking you. Tasting you.
You whined when he pulled out, and you were gifted with the sight of his cock covered in you and you…. You felt a little woozy as you pampered down at your cunt. The tentacles were slowly pulling away from your tits, your cunt, and your ass as you saw the genuine puddle beneath you. Cum and other liquid was there mocking you. And you just felt…so empty and so full and so wonderfully fucked out. Still aching for more. A horrifying thought as the tentacles gradually lowered you to the ground.
Your knees buckled, and Eddie caught you with one strong arm. Your clit still ached. You would've let him keep going. As long as he'd wanted–fuck. You trembled a little bit, feeling cum soak your underwear, shorts, and start to leak down your thighs. You would’ve stayed there all night.
And being so close to him, you got another whiff of him. And that aching feeling heightened. He laughed when you stared up at him with wide eyes, and one large hand wiped some of the tears away.
"I might be your alien captive, but who really belongs to whom here?" he whispered.
He held you tighter as he walked you back to the bars and spun you. You gasped as the cool metal hit your burning skin. For a brief moment, you thought he was going to fuck you there.
He didn’t.
He merely lifted his other hand and pointed to the little black covering on the ceiling just across from the cell wall. Then, he spun you and pointed at the one directly in the center of his cell.
“Do you think,” he murmured next to your ear, “I provided enough new information to satisfy your boss?”
He reached up and cupped your cunt with a firm grip.
“If you can hold it in you, maybe you can even get a sample for your labs.” His tongue flicked your ear. “If you hold it all for me and don’t spill a drop even walking to the door there, I’ll do a personal one into a little jar for your research. So they won’t have to try and figure out whose DNA is whose.”
You shuddered. It…it was humiliating that even as your eyes flicked to the camera–always recording–you still ground yourself against his hand. Eddie’s laugh was an amused, dark growl that sent an embarrassing shiver down your spine.
“How many times do you think they’ll watch it and fuck themselves to us?” His teeth were sharp on your ear. “If they want a recording for research purposes, we’ll just have to give them one, won’t we?”
God, you wanted to scream. Because you nodded your head. Just the thought of having him inside you again had you throwing any fucking standards and morals out the window. Gone. Vanished into thin air.
"Then go," Eddie muttered, planting a kiss to your shoulder. "Walk to that door without a single drop slipping down those pretty legs of yours."
He shoved you before you could say or do anything else, and you clenched hard. Harder than you ever had, and you found yourself gritting your teeth as you left everything behind. No lab coat. No ID badge. No shoes or socks. You didn’t even fix your underwear as you stumbled step after awkward step toward the door.
You’d actually managed to get your hand on the knob when you heard Eddie bark out a mocking little awww. And you glanced down as something warm trickled down your leg.
“You did your best,” Eddie mused.
And when you glanced back, he holding your ID badge in one hand and squeezing a bar of the cell with the other. Your heart pounded, but if Eddie wanted to get out, he would’ve done so already. But…but you couldn’t leave that there. You needed it. Of all the things to leave behind, that–
It flung through the air and landed at your feet.
“Consider it a kindness since you made it almost all the way there.”
Eddie tilted his head, and that wicked smile transformed into that amused one. His dark eyes flicked over you, seeming to memorize your appearance. Especially as you bent down to pluck up your ID card, and you winced.
“I hope you’ll come visit me again tomorrow night, (Y/N),” he mused.
You winced again as you stood, holding onto the knob as your knees trembled and the edges of the badge dug into your palm. Eddie cracked a lopsided smile that, even from that distance, drew you all the way back in like whatever those cursed pheromones were. He had you caged into your own cell, and just the sight of him as the door locking and key kept around his neck.
“Well, if you’re not too sore.”
His eyes glinted with one last wicked smile, and with cum dripping down your legs and no shoes on your feet, you slipped out into the hallway, unaware of the consequences awaiting you in the morning.
More than just your superior's discovery of the security footage.
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”
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
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.
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
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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.
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.
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)
