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Autumn Roses | Young Ian x OC (part 2)

plot summary: As a half black half white slave in colonial North Carolina, Rose has struggled with her place in the world. After her mother's death in childbirth and finding out that the recently deceased River Run plantation master was her father, the mistress of River Run, Jocasta Cameron, took her in treating her as more of a daughter than a slave. Jocasta educated and raised Rose with no one outside the house ever being the wiser. But the arrival of Jocasta's nephew Jamie Fraser and his wife Clare threaten to turn Rose's world upside down especially when they bring along their bright haired, blue eyed nephew Ian Murray.

Part 1

pairings: Young Ian x OC

fandom: Outlander

word count: 1426

warnings/notes: Hey guys! I know it's been forever since updating this fanfic and I almost shelved it but I decided to write a few more parts and see how it goes. Hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 2

We all sat in the parlor in silence after Mistress Cameron explained everything to her family. I held my breath waiting for the storm I was sure was about to come. Mistress Cameron guided us to a sitting room adorned with plush velvet chairs and intricately woven tapestries that told stories of battles fought and loves lost. We gathered around a crackling fire, its flames casting a comforting warmth upon us all.

Seated in a high-backed chair, Mistress Jocasta fixed her gaze upon each of us in turn, her expression grave yet resolute. "There are secrets buried deep within these walls," she began, her voice tinged with a hint of sorrow. "Secrets I’ve been keeping for decades, I’m afraid. Rose is my late husband’s bastard.” She stole a glance at me as if it pained her to say the word. “I was furious at first, ashamed even. But her mother died and she was such a sweet child and I had lost my own daughter years ago, ye see…” Mistress Jocasta swallowed the clear lump in her throat. She dabbed unshed tears from her glassy eyes.

Claire put a hand on Jocasta’s shoulder bending down so she could smile at her with the sweetest expression. “It’s very admirable what you have done for Rose.”

“And never mind nothin’, Auntie.” Jamie tipped his head towards her. “We will keep your secret during our time at River Run. After all, Rose is family.” He smiled at me and I felt a warmth in my heart I didn’t quite know what to make of.

To not have to hide and duck around corners for the months Jamie, Claire and Ian were visiting was a relief. I watched the scene unfold before me, a whirlwind of emotions churning within my chest. My mind struggled to process the weight of it all. Jamie and Claire's unwavering support only added to the mix of gratitude and confusion swirling inside me.

As the fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows around the room, I felt a sense of belonging I hadn't experienced before. To be acknowledged and accepted by these newfound relatives was both overwhelming and comforting in equal measure. Ian, ever the kind soul, reached out a hand to squeeze mine in silent solidarity. His gesture left me blushing and I quickly pulled my hand away from his. I tried to smile to show him I was grateful, just hesitant, but I don’t know how well I did. Even as I tried not to look at him, I could feel his eyes still on me. My heart was beating so loud I was sure the whole room could hear it.

“Ye’re a true Mackenzie no doubt,” he said with a slight smile, “Always gettin’ into trouble for the sake of others.”

Claire placed a hand over her heart, seeming warmed by the news. “In this day and age, with how people feel about slaves, especially the mixed children being produced…I admire you.”

Mistress Cameron let out a relieved sigh. “Well, I am glad of that. I would much rather have ye sayin’ here without lookin’ at me with contempt everyday.”

“We’re in no place to judge, Auntie,” Ian said, “What people around here think about slaves and the Indians are no different than what the English think about Scots. After all, look at what happened on the river wit’ us bein’ mugged.”

Jocasta smiled, nodding her approval of the young lad. Even I had to crack a smile. When the mugging was mentioned I was suddenly over concerned. “Mugged.”

“Aye,” Jamie confirmed from his place by the window, a china tea cup in his hands. “Mugged by a criminal I helped escape the noose. Thought I was doin’ him a kindness, trustin’ my gut. They stole our coin and gem stone. Left us with little more than the clothes on our back.”

Jocasta huffed. “Wicked! Just wicked. To repay your kindness in such fashion. Bonnet and his men should be hangit.”

“He woulda been were it not for me.”

“You sought the goodness in him, and there was none to be found.” I felt bad for Jamie for I could see the turmoil in his eyes from his decision. Regardless, I admired him for it. Being able to see the good where others saw none was a habit of mine as well. And I had equal reason as Jamie not to trust the masses.

“Pray think on it no more,” Jocasta continued in her quest to calm Jamie’s worries, “Ye’re welcome to stay here as long as ye need.”

I felt Ian’s eyes on me at Mistress Cameron’s invitation. I allowed myself to glance at him as well and our eyes met making my chest flutter once again. He smiled brightly as if just getting me to look at him was the highlight of his day. I looked away feeling myself blush. As curious as I was to learn more about Ian, it was dangerous territory to walk into.

“I’ll not be a burden to you,” Jamie continued, taking a seat next to Jocasta.

“No, we don’t intend to stay that long,” Claire said.

Mistress Cameron just gave them a warm smile. “Bless ye, dears, ye’re kin. Twill not be a burden to have a man of such strength and mind for business at my disposal. Why the good women and men of Cape Fear will be clamorin’ to engage with ye, especially once they’ve had the pleasure of making yer acquaintance at a wee gatherin’ I intend to hold in yer honor.”

A breathy laugh came out of Jamie’s mouth followed by a crooked smile. “Ye’re familiar wi’ my business dealings.”

“Mistress Cameron has kept up wi’ ye over the years, Master Fraser,” I said, finding some confidence amidst the casual atmosphere. I had rarely ever talked to anyone outside River Run, but Jamie and Claire made everything seem so comfortable and approachable. “She’s had me read her resources for her, letters and such. Like when you were in Paris and Edinburgh.”

“Ye flatter me, Rose. And call me Jamie, please.”

Jocasta sighed with amusement on her lips. “You’re no fond of flattery. Well, ‘tis her right to do so as well as mine. I have no sons of my own. Besides Rose, who else am I to lavish my attentions upon?”

Jamie smiled so appreciatively at her I wished she could have seen it. It was clear that no matter how long it had been, he still loved his aunt just as much as he did when they were both back in Scotland. I felt a little envious. I longed for a family such as that, a place to belong, a place where I didn’t have to hide in fear. I sipped my tea hoping no one noticed the slight disappointment on my face. Thankfully, I was saved by Rollo barging into the room through the front door. Immediately, a foul stench filled up the room forcing me to use my skirts to cover my nose.

Ian walked over to his dog who was whining terribly. “Dear God, Rollo, what happened to ye?”

The slave attendant holding onto Rollo’s tether dipped his head. “I’m sorry, Mistress Cameron. The beast ran after a skunk and got sprayed in the process.”

“What in the devil is a skunk?”

Claire sat her tea cup down on a nearby table using her now free hand to cover her nose. “It’s an animal quite common around here. It sprays a foul liquid when it gets scared to ward off predators.”

Jamie looked as if he were about to gag. “Is it venomous?”

“No. Just malodorous.” Claire started to shoo Ian and Rollo out of the room.

Mistress Cameron composed herself long enough to say, “It just so happens that my friend John Quincy Myers is visiting. He’s a man of the wild who can rid your mongrel of the stench.”

Ian sighed in relief. “Thank you, great-aunt.”

“Rose, why don’t you go show Ian the way? I’m such John Quincy is where he always is, by the riverbank.”

I nodded feeling my heart drop into my stomach. Standing near Ian had been enough to send my breathing into a panic. Now I was going to practically be alone with him. I wanted to reject her request, but I knew how impolite that would be. It would also spark many questions that I was not even sure how to answer. So I stood up from the couch and followed Ian and Rollo out the door.

#outlander #outlander series #jamie fraser #claire fraser #claire beauchamp #outlander fandom #outlander fanfic #outlander fanart #young ian #ian murray #outlander starz #outlander season 4 #outlander season 7 #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #outlander spoilers

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If you even feel half the way I do about you… I don't. You don't? I feel it ten times more.

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Maia Mitchell as Belle Fox

The Artful Dodger 1.01

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Hercules (1997) dir. Ron Clements, John Musker

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Don’t Be Cruel | austin!elvis x oc (part 6)

plot summary: Angel Casteel is a small town girl who lucked into working as a makeup artist at a film studio. Unfortunately, her confidence in herself wavers as she is assigned to work with Elvis on his latest motion picture. Overcome by his star power at first, she slowly starts to realize there is a man behind the fame, a man she understands. But as they grow closer, the world grows more turbulent, especially Elvis's world. Will this Angel be able to save Elvis from himself and the people around him? Or will getting mixed up in his word prove to be her downfall as well?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 2218

warnings/notes: N/A

Chapter 6

After a few days, it seemed strange not going to see Elvis on set every morning. I found myself with an unusually large amount of free time. I hadn't even talked to Elvis in the preceding three days. He claimed to be working behind the Colonel's back on a significant operation. Despite my anguish, I saw that he had no choice but to do this. I was eager to help him in any way I could, even if it meant giving him some space to be himself again.

“You’re moving where?!” said my mother over the phone. I knew calling her would be a bad idea, but she needed to know. Half of my apartment was already packed in preparation for my upcoming move to Las Vegas. Elvis' description of it seemed much too excessive for me. Mama wasn't nearly as enthusiastic as I was.

“Las Vegas, Mama,” I said again, “Elvis asked me to move with him after the movie finished filming…and now it’s done so I’m going.”

“Angel Heaven Casteel, I can’t believe you let that man turn you into his little play thing! I thought you were smarter. What happens when he gets bored of ya, huh? What happens when he leaves you high and dry and you’re stuck in Las Vegas without a dime to your name?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “It’s not like that, Mama. I told you. Elvis and I are together. What we have is deep and special.”

“I bet that’s what every girl he’s ever touched thought too. And where are they now?”

A knot formed at the base of my stomach. When I first met Elvis, I was terrified for the same reasons. Those concerns were still present, hell. But I had to push beyond them. Mama bringing them up sent a familiar surge of fear through me. “You can’t believe everything you see on the TV or read in the papers, Mama.”

“That information has to come from somewhere, sweetie. That’s all I’m saying.” She let out a deep sigh, and I knew she was looking over her shoulder at my father, who was probably trying to seem like he wasn't listening. “This whole Hollywood idea was ridiculous from the start. I don’t understand why you can’t just move back home, be with people you’ve known your whole life and who know you.”

People that were familiar with me were as or more critical than my mother. My mother was the only one who did it to my face; the rest of the people I knew did it behind my back. No matter how much my hometown scoffed at me, I knew I was destined for big things. The doorbell rang, and I was relieved to have an out for hanging up on my mom. I resolved not to contact her until I had established myself in Vegas. It could make her stop yelling for a little time. As soon as I hung up the phone, I ran to the door, where I was greeted by Elvis, who was wearing a black suit, turtleneck, and gold-framed sunglasses.

“I don’t think I ever told you where I lived,” I said, hinting.

Elvis smiled and laughed. “That’s fine. James knew.”

Faking irritation, I crossed my arms across my chest. “It’s not very gentleman like for a man to come callin’ on a woman without callin’ first.”

“Have I ever claimed to be a gentleman?” He kissed me briefly on the lips, and I reciprocated his affection. “I need you to come somewhere with me today.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

******

For the whole of the hour-long car trip, I pleaded with Elvis to reveal our destination. With a devilish grin on his face, he continued encouraging me to be patient. As the car continued driving up the mountain, past trees, plants, and the odd cactus, I eventually gave up. It was almost like being back in my hometown, when the roads were usually just dirt and we walked instead of drove. Since there was nowhere to go in the small town, nobody ever bothered to own a car. I was curious about life in Vegas. What was it like? Was it more like Los Angeles? Would Elvis have time to show me around or would I be left to figure out my way on my own?

The sudden halt of the car jarred my stream of thinking. I glanced out the window and saw the place we had been headed. Against the cityscape, I could make out the Hollywood sign's reverse side. Elvis got out first then opened the door for me extending me his hand to assist me out the vehicle. Since settling in Los Angeles, I had only made one trip to see the Hollywood sign. I still didn't go all the way up the hill, however. Before, I had only seen it from a distance, but up close, it was much more impressive. I strolled to the 'O' and stared out the center onto the metropolis. It was stunning in appearance, enormous in size, and all encompassing. I understood how little and unimportant I had been in comparison to the vastness of my surroundings. What gave me the idea that I might become recognized?

Elvis came up behind me putting his hands on my hips and pulling me to the side. He sat down in the crook of the 'O' and leaned back. When he reached for my hand, I let him. “What do you think, baby?”

“It’s beautiful, Elvis. But why did you bring me up here?”

“I’ve arranged a meetin’. Jerry told me about these guys he had met goin’ out one night. They’re called Binder and Bones. He kept sayin’ ‘You gotta meet these guys, E.P.! They’re the ones who put James Brown and the Rolling Stones on stage. You gotta meet ‘em’. When we were talkin’ in the trailer about me gettin’ back to myself and all…I thought it wouldn’t hurt to give ‘em a call.”

There was a question in my brain, and even though I knew the answer, I asked it nevertheless. ��The Colonel doesn’t know about this, does he?”

A pack of cigarettes appeared from Elvis's pocket. With his lips, he drew one out and lit it. He exhaled the cigarette smoke. “No, he doesn’t. And he don’t need to. I respect the Colonel, but what he’s got planned for me…it ain’t what I want.”

“I know.” I gave Elvis' hand a good, tight squeeze. “I don’t have any objections either. You know how I feel about that man.”

He cracked a little grin. “That’s why I brought you along, doll. You’re always supportin’ me. Makin’ me feel like I’m makin’ the right decisions.”

“Who knows what’s better for Elvis Presley than Elvis Presley? You’re doin’ the right thing, Satnin.”

The grin on his face widened. He drew me in and sat up in order to brush his lips on mine. When he kissed me again, I felt those old, comforting butterflies in my stomach and grinned against his lips. When we heard footsteps approaching, we separated. Jerry approached us along with two guys who I took to be Binder and Bones. It was clear that all three of them meant business. I withdrew my hand from Elvis's and he let go. I saw his chest rise and fall as he looked out at the cityscape again.

The guys came to a complete halt. “Mr. Binder, Mr. Howe, this is Mr. Elvis Presley and Ms. Angel Casteel.”

I gave a friendly nod to each of them. Elvis pretended for a second that he didn't notice their presence. He looked immersed in what he was seeing. Then he spoke, “When I first came to Hollywood, I would come up here and sit for hours. Right over there…” From where he was seated, the Griffith Observatory was readily visible across the distance. “...that’s where they shot Rebel Without A Cause. Man, I used to dream of bein’ a great actor like Jimmy Dean. The sign was beautiful then.” He stopped to examine the rusty metal that was only visible from this vantage point. “And now…Feels as though lots of things are like that these days. Broke down, beat up. Rotten.”

It crushed my heart to realize that he was talking more about himself than the sign. The want to go console him was strong, but I restrained myself. A business meeting was a formal setting, and I would cheer Elvis on from a distance.

Elvis removed his sunglasses and proceeded. “I really like what you guys did, putting James Brown and the Stones together.”

Binder responded right away. “We’re, uh…big fans of yours, too. It’s just that, Mr. Presley, we don’t usually—”

“Oh, Elvis.” His interruption reminded me of our time together in the studio. Everyone on set, I realized, had addressed him as "Elvis" rather than "Mr. Presley." Only when he wasn't present did I ever hear anybody refer to him as "Mr. Presley."

“Elvis, uh…” Binder continued, “Christmas specials aren’t really our thing.”

That made Elvis grin knowingly. “I know.” His grin, however, was short-lived and rapidly faded. “Tell me honestly, where do you boys think my career’s at right now?”

Both Binder and Bones gazed at one other, their silence revealing their reluctance to speak. Bones answered, “Well, it’s…”

“It’s in the toilet, Elvis,” Binder said. He gave me a sidelong look. “Sorry for the terminology, ma’am.”

Elvis returned my smile with a grin on his face as he glanced at me. I returned the grin, trying not to laugh out loud. To force it to stop so I could talk, I pressed my lips together. “No need to apologize.”

“My girl may look like a lady, but she’s tough.” Elvis laughed and gave me a knowing grin before returning to the conversation. “Oh Lord. I knew you were the right guys for this job. You know, back when I was starting out, some people wanted to put me in jail or even kill me, ‘cause of the way I was movin’.” He dismounted from his perch and began to stroll. He stopped when he reached a beam holding up one of the letters and rested against it. “So they cut my hair, put me in a uniform and they sent me away.” Once again, Elvis's mind was wandering off into the past. “That killed my mother. And ever since then…I’ve been lost.”

I approached Elvis and placed a protective arm over his forearm. “Elvis…”

He lowered his head and smiled at me. “I’m alright, darlin’.” Elvis turned to see Binder and Bones, who were still listening intently. “When you’re lost, people take advantage. It wasn’t until an angel came into my life…” I felt his hand on my arm. “...that I realized how truly lost I was. I need you fellas to help me get back to who I really am.” His tone was pleading rather than assertive.

“And who are you, Elvis?” Binder inquired, peering upward through his oversized sunglasses.

“Well, he sure as hell ain’t someone who sings Christmas songs by a fireplace in a wool sweater,” I commented with my hands on my hips. Elvis's grin filled me with a feeling of accomplishment. Both Binder and Bones laughed nervously to themselves, then quickly resumed their serious businesslike demeanors.

“And what does the Colonel think?” Bones asked.

The question was inevitable from him. Since the Colonel had been handling Elvis's business for so long, few people believed that he could succeed without him. But I saw defiance in Elvis's eyes, too. It was the beginning of a fire that was eager to spread and get out of control. I wasn’t surprised when he answered back, “I don’t give a damn what the Colonel thinks.”

That appeared to arouse both producers's attention as they exchanged happy glances. When they agreed to film Elvis's special and confirmed it with a handshake, I almost lost control of my excitement.

“We’ll start drawing up plans,” Binder said, “Set designs and everything and we’ll run them by you. I promise you’re not going to regret this.”

“No matter if it works out or not, I don’t regret anythin’,' ' Elvis declared.

Jerry waved farewell as he led Binder and Bones back to their vehicle at the top of the hill. When everyone else was gone, I grabbed Elvis hard, throwing my arms around his neck. He buried his face in my shoulder as he stroked calming circles all over my back. We held each other for what seemed like an eternity as we enjoyed Elvis's career take an unexpected turn for the better.

He took a step back to look me directly in the eye, but his hands remained planted firmly on my waist. “This is gonna be big, baby doll. I can feel it. Bigger than anythin’ anyone has ever done before.” He pulled strands of hair out of my face that had blown into my eyes from the wind. “But no matter what happens, I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you, understand?”

I shook my head, chuckling a little. “What’s gonna happen to me?”

Elvis drew me in for a close kiss on the forehead and then lingered there. He took a long breath in. “Nothin’.”

Stay tuned for part 7!! Click HERE to view!

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Hellfire Lost | Eddie Munson x oc (part 4)

plot summary: Juliet Henderson has had her fair share of excitement fighting otherworldly monsters in the Upside Down with her brother, Dustin, and his friends. She's ready for her senior year to be a peaceful and pleasant time spent cheerleading and hanging out with her best friend Chrissy. However when Chrissy mysteriously turns up dead and her unlikely outcast crush Eddie Munson is suspect #1, she finds herself back in the fight along with the rest of the Upside Down squad facing their biggest threat yet. Will Juliet and everyone be able to stop dangers of the world below Hawkins and clear Eddie's name? And what happens when the monster starts targeting someone a little closer to home?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

pairings: eddie munson x oc

word count: 2316

warnings/notes:

Chapter 4

I drove myself, Max, and Dustin to Family Video, a video shop where you could rent vhs tapes to watch at home, after running out of the house, rejecting Mom's pleadings for us to remain at home since there was a murderer on the loose. We rushed up to the counter, where Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley were working. I'd known Steve since he was on Hawkins High's basketball team, and the previous summer I'd met Robin while working at Scoops Ahoy with both her and Steve, which led in my learning about monsters, a Russian plot, and a telepathic girl who could flip cars with her mind.

Dustin was the first to come up to the counter. “Steve, how many phones do you have?”

Dustin's haste caught Steve off guard. “Two, why?”

“Technically 3 if you count Keith’s in the back,” Robin said.

“That’ll have to do.” Dustin rushed over the counter, knocking numerous tapes to the floor, triggering yelling from Robin and Steve. Max and I used the back door shortcut via the little side entrance behind the counter.

“What are you doing?!” Steve screamed.

“Setting up base of operations here.”

“Base of what?” Dustin sat at the computer behind the desk and started typing. Steve shook his head, frustrated. “Get off of that!”

“No, I need it.”

“Need it for what?”

“I need to look up Eddie’s friends’ phone numbers.”

Steve was wearing an odd look on his face. Was it a feeling of resentment? “Right. Your new best friend you think is cooler because he plays your nerdy game?”

“Yes. I never said that!”

“Girls, stop it!” By grasping Steve's sleeve, I brought his attention to myself. It was as if he had just recently become aware of my worries. It softened him. “Just let him go, Harrington.”

“You’re encouraging this?!”

Robin started collecting the fallen tapes. “Looks, guys, normally I wouldn’t mind your antics but this is Saturday, our busiest day here.”

Dustin totally ignored it. “Okay, Robin, I empathize but this cannot wait!”

I let go of Steve and looked at Robin, who had sensed my anxiousness. “We need to find Eddie.”

“Why?”

Steve placed his fists on his hips. “What the hell is going on?”

Dustin started searching for Eddie's buddies' phone numbers.“Will you please fill them in while me and Max do this?”

Robin joined in on the distress. “Fill us in on what?”

I started telling him and Robin about watching Eddie and Chrissy leave together, how odd Chrissy had been behaving, Max seeing them go inside the trailer and the lights afterwards, Eddie driving away, and the news this morning. They both listened closely as the narrative proceeded, their expressions covered with fear.

“It should be case closed then. I mean Chrissy was in Eddie’s trailer and they were together,” Steve eventually said.

“Eddie didn’t kill Chrissy,” Dustin said for the umpteenth time today.

“Then who did?” Robin questioned.

“I don’t know,” Max admitted.

I backed up against the counter. “But we have to find Eddie before the cops do. The lights Max saw…the flickering and then the screaming…” Everything sounded very familiar. “I know we thought all the portals to the Upside Down were closed but…what if they weren’t?”

After hearing it aloud, everyone realized what it meant. There was no longer any hiding in the Upside Down or in possessed bodies. Whatever it was this time was openly killing people in public. This time, there was no Eleven to stop it.

It was a full-fledged manhunt to find Eddie. We were all on the phone, calling and searching for anyone he might have come into contact with, but each call came up empty.

“This is ridiculous,” I groaned as I hung up the phone on yet another pointless call. “He couldn’t have just disappeared off the face of the earth. Someone had to have helped him.”

“Maybe he’s just wandering around in the woods somewhere,” Robin speculated.

“With the whole police force looking for him? No, he had to have found somewhere to lay low.”

Max turned to face us after hanging up the phone. “I think I might have found something. They say Eddie gets his drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick.”

“Okay,” Dustin said, “So who is Reefer Rick?”

“That’s the thing. No one knows.”

“Where does he live?”

“No one knows that either. He’s more of a legend than someone people actually know.”

I bit my thumb's nail. The longer we waited, the more likely it was that the cops would find Eddie before we did. And I was concerned about him. The image of him smiling at me with that nervous grin from the day before stayed with me.

“I bet the cops know who he is,” Steve suggested.

I'd never wanted to hit Steve over the head with anything more than I did right then and there. And that was saying a lot. “That’s your suggestion? Go to the cops. The cops that are hunting down Eddie for murder.”

“I mean, if this Reefer Rick is actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he’s been busted at some point. Means he’s probably in the system. And I think, at this point, they should probably be filled in on what’s going on.”

To avoid strangling him, I lifted my hands and balled them into fists. “Out of all times, Steve, do you really have to give into the dumb jock stereotype now?!”

“You think Eddie’s guilty don’t you?” Dustin mused.

“Hey, I believe in innocent until proven guilty and all that constitutional shit.” However, the tone of his voice indicated that he believed Eddie was responsible for the crime. Maybe he wanted him to be guilty. I recall Steve being a member of the "let's pick on the freak" club in high school. “I just, you know, I don’t think we can rule it out.”

“You want Eddie to be guilty, don’t you?” I came out and said it, which surprised everyone, especially Steve, who was quick to defend himself.

“What? No. Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson? I could care less if he was guilty or not. Actually why do you seem to care so much?”

I could feel the blush on my cheeks before I could stop it, but I maintained a stern expression as if I could ignore it. Why was I so concerned? Because I had feelings for Eddie, the same part of me that had kissed him in that abandoned classroom. A part that became increasingly difficult to deny the longer we went without finding Eddie. But I couldn't bring myself to admit it. Not in front of Steve, who would relentlessly tease me about it, or in front of Dustin, who might see it as a betrayal.

It was Robin who brought us all back into focus, as if she had suddenly realized something.“Maybe we don’t need to know Reefer Rick’s name.” She pushed Dustin out of the way of the computer and began typing the name 'Rick.' “The selection here is huge which means it’s super overwhelming for people. And everyone’s information is right here.” When she pressed the enter key, the screen displayed a list of people with the first name 'Rick.' “12 Ricks already have accounts here.”

I embraced her from behind. “Robin, you’re a goddamn genius.”

“I try.”

“That’s still a lot of Ricks,” Max remarked.

I agreed by nodding. “True. But enough to look through.” Especially given the limited time we had.

So we spent some time looking through the various Ricks, judging their recent rentals, trying to find our guy, until we came across a Rick Lipton who appeared to have rented the entire Cheech and Chong filmography. I smiled, relieved that we had finally made progress. “We found our guy.”

“Lipton?” Max inquired.

“Spelled like the tea,” Robin confirmed, “2121 Holland Road.”

That street sounded familiar. “Holland Road? That’s out by Lover’s Lake.”

“Middle of nowhere.”

“It’s a perfect place to hide.”

“Let’s go.” We were all out the door and on our way to Lover's Lake.

It was already dark by the time we arrived at Lover's Lake. Reefer Rick's house was typical of those in the area, a small cottage-style structure built on the lake's shore. Remote and quiet, eerie but peaceful. However, from the outside, the house appeared completely abandoned, with no lights on inside or outside. We got out of our cars and approached the front door, flashlights flashing. Dustin rang the doorbell, which I knew would not work. He kept pounding on the doorbell, as if it would magically summon Eddie.

I swatted away his hand from the doorbell. “Cut it out. Who answers the doorbell if they’re hiding from the cops?”

“Or maybe that settles it and he’s not here,” Steve speculated.

Dustin turned away from Steve and yelled, “Eddie! It’s Dustin! We just want to talk, okay? No cops! We just want to help!”

“Shut up! Do you want the whole lake to hear you?” I had to resist the urge to cover his mouth with my hand.

We tried tactic number two, shining flashlights through the windows to see if we could detect any movement. We couldn't come up with anything, so Dustin began banging on the door. I rolled my eyes, wondering how this kid survived the supernatural encounters he had. I was beginning to lose hope when Max called us.

“Hey guys?” she asked.

We all gathered around her to see what she had discovered. A boathouse on the water was located a short distance from the main property. An even better place to hide. We made our way over to the boathouse, looking through the windows but seeing nothing more than what we had seen in the main house. Unlike the main house, the door was open, so we went in for a closer look. It looked like any other boathouse, crammed with junk and stinking of fish. The boat was covered in a tarp and bobbing up and down in the water on the open ended side of the boathouse.

“What a dump,” Steve exclaimed as he looked around.

“Didn’t realize your boathouse was so clean, Steve,” I remarked, knowing full well that he didn't have one.

“Ha ha, very funny.” He grabbed an oar from the wall and began slashing at the tarp that was covering the boat.

“What are you doing?” Dustin muttered.

“He might be in here.”

“So take the tarp off.”

“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off.”

“You’re a bunch of kids.” I took the oar from Steve. “What are you going to do if he is in there? Stab him with an oar?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Hey, look over here.” Max shone her light on a table in the corner covered in discarded food wrappers. “Someone was here.”

“Maybe he heard us,” Robin added, “Got spooked and ran.”

“Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar.” Dustin's sarcastic smile was visible even in the dim light.

“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson, but considering everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times—”

“Exactly! And your weapon of choice is an oar?” I threw the oar to the ground, but the loud noise it made was drowned out by Eddie leaping from beneath the tarp and pushing me up against the wall with a broken bottle pressed against my neck. I screamed as my back collided with the metal wall, but I didn't have time to be concerned about the sting. Everyone was stunned and frozen, taking great care not to make any sudden movements. Eddie looked at me with a stern face but fearful eyes, as if he had no idea who I was in his survival instinctual state.

Despite my heavy breathing, I tried to keep my voice calm. “Eddie…”

“Whoa, whoa! Eddie! Eddie! Stop!” Dustin held his hands up, indicating that he meant no harm. Everyone else was holding their breath as well. “Eddie! It’s me! It’s Dustin! That’s Juliet. You know her. My sister, remember?!”

Eddie had turned to face Dustin while he was speaking. Eddie looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time when Dustin said my name. His face relaxed, and his eyes returned to the big brown puppy dog eyes I remembered. “Juliet…”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, ignoring the strange looks I was getting. I was just relieved he was alive and, by the looks of things, physically okay. “Thank god you’re alright.”

He returned the embrace. His entire body was trembling. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” I let go of him while still holding his face in my hands. “What the hell happened? What’s going on?”

Eddie backed away from me, shaking his head and leaning against the wall. His eyes were distant once more, as if he were trapped in a bad memory, which he could be. Dustin approached me and placed his hand on my arm to ensure that I was okay. I nodded, and he moved over to Eddie, who had collapsed on the floor.

“Eddie.” Dustin knelt until he was eye level with Eddie, who refused to look at him. “We just want to talk. Okay?”

I knelt down next to Dustin. “We just want to know what happened.” I put my hand on his forearm, and he turned to face me. I smiled at him, small and reassuring.

His eyes were filled with tears. He sniffled. “You won’t believe me.” When I took one of his hands in mine, he squeezed it as if he needed something to hold onto, something to ground him.

“Try us,” Max prompted.

Except for the sound of the water's current rocking the boat, the room fell silent. Eddie finally told his story after a few agonizing moments.

Stay tuned for part 5!! Click HERE to view!

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pxnsneverland · 6 months

Text

Hellfire Lost | Eddie Munson x oc (part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

pairings: eddie munson x oc

word count: 1050

warnings/notes:

Chapter 3

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of the TV in the living room. It was Saturday, and Mom and Dustin usually slept in, so I thought it was strange. I stepped out of bed and into the living room, where I found Mom in her usual spot, cuddling the cat a little too close to her chest. The TV was set to a live news broadcast from the nearby trailer park.

“What happened? Someone OD in the trailer park again?” I inquired, rubbing my tired eyes. It wasn't uncommon to hear about a druggie found dead in or near the trailer park. It happens every now and then.

Mom's head shook. “No, they found someone murdered in the trailer park this morning. A student from Hawkins High.”

My breath became stuck in my throat. A student? I knew a lot of people who lived in the trailer park, including Dustin's friend Max Mayfield...and Eddie. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at the television. Behind the newscaster, police tape and cops swarmed the trailer. They hadn't said which student or whose trailer it was, but it was likely that the police already knew and were simply not disclosing it. My thoughts returned to last night, when I saw Chrissy and Eddie leave in Eddie's van.

Dustin was the next to enter the living room and join our little distress party. His expression indicated that he, too, was perplexed as to why we were up so early. “Where’s the fire? Who died?”

I turned to face him. “Apparently a student at Hawkins High. Murdered in the trailer park.”

Dustin was wide awake, staring at the TV screen. When they panned to a shot of the trailer, I noticed he was visibly pale.

“What’s wrong?” I inquired, resting my hand on his shoulder.

“That’s—“

There was a knock at the door before he could finish. Dustin proceeded to open it. Max Mayfield stood in the doorway, determined but slightly terrified.

“Oh no,” I whispered to myself.

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

The three of us disappeared into Dustin’s room.

“Chrissy Cunningham?!” exclaimed Dustin, “Are you sure it was Chrissy?”

“Yes, in her cheerleading outfit,” Max confirmed, “Same thing she was wearing when I saw her with Eddie.”

“Did you tell all this to the cops?”

“No. But I—I can’t be the only one who saw them together. I mean, they stood out.”

“Eddie, the freak, with Chrissy, the cheerleader?”

“Exactly. You know, his name’s not in the news yet or anything, but I guarantee you Eddie is suspect number one right now.”

My heart was beating fast. Chrissy, my best friend, who was always bright, cheerful, and energetic. She was gone. I wanted to cry, but there was no time for that. “Max is right. She wasn’t the only one who saw Eddie and Chrissy. I saw them after the basketball game getting into his car.”

Dustin remained firm. “That’s crazy. Eddie didn’t do this. No way.”

“Well we can’t rule it out!”

“No way, Max!”

“Dustin!”

“You don’t know him like I do, Max. When we got to high school, Lucas made all his sports friends. Mike and me? I mean, no one was nice to us. No one but Eddie.”

“Dustin is right, Max.” There had to be another reason. There was no way the boy who had been so sweet and playful with me and had kissed me could have committed murder. Particularly one who would murder my friend.

Max appeared to pause for a moment. “Okay. Well they said the same thing about Ted Bundy.”

Dustin appeared perplexed. “You’re saying Eddie is like Ted Bundy?”

“No, I'm just saying we can’t presume anything!”

Dustin sat on his bed, the old springs creaking under his weight. “Why haven’t you told the cops yet?”

A moment of silence. “I don’t know. I just…”

“Because you think there’s a chance Eddie didn’t do it either.”

Dustin had a valid point. Eddie was odd and nerdy, and he marched to the beat of his own drum, but he didn't strike me as a murderer. He'd been bullied, tormented, and even beaten up for as long as I'd known him. But I'd never seen him retaliate or even raise a hand in self-defense.

“Okay,” I said, trying to sort things out in my head, “So if Eddie didn’t kill Chrissy, then who did?”

“There’s something else,” Max said. She became agitated as she sat down next to Dustin on the bed. “After I saw Eddie and Chrissy go in the trailer, a while later the power started acting really weird. The lights were flickering really bad and then it just stopped. I heard Eddie scream and when I went to the window, he ran out of the trailer then got in his car and drove off super fast.” She inhaled deeply while thinking. “I mean it shouldn’t have been that weird. Eddie is always driving like a manic and the power goes off at my place all the time. It’s a piece of shit. But…this morning, I started to think back and—-. I don’t know. The look on his face. He was scared, like really scared. Maybe he was scared because he just killed someone or…maybe because…I don’t know. Maybe because…”

“Something else killed her,” Dustin finished for her.

I cast a glance between them. The fear had thickened the air. I knew exactly what they were thinking. I had the same thought. Mysterious deaths and flickering lights are all signs of an Upside Down creature loose in Hawkins. El, on the other hand, had defeated the Mind Flayer, and Hopper had died to close the open portal. “Something else…like what?”

“I don’t know.” Max lowered her gaze to her hands. “But that’s impossible right?”

“It should be.” Dustin shifted his gaze between Max and me. “Only one person knows what actually happened.”

“Eddie.”

I agreed with a nod of my head.“We need to find him.”

I was expecting them both to fight me on it. Dustin, on the other hand, simply stood up from his bed and said, “Then let’s go.”

“Go where?” I knew we had to find Eddie before the cops, but we didn't know where to start.

“Family Video. We’re going to need some help…and phones.”

Stay tuned for part 4!! Click HERE to view!

#fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fics #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom #stranger things fluff #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn fandom

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pxnsneverland · 7 months

Text

Don’t Be Cruel | austin!elvis x oc (part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 1407

warnings/notes: N/A

Chapter 5

The following day, I was getting ready for work, with barely enough time to go to the bus stop before it left. I was delighted to see Elvis again, even though I was certain that the prior day had been a dream. But that wasn't the case. I adored Elvis Presley, and he loved me back. It was enough to make my stomach flutter once again. There came a loud knock on my front door. Who would be knocking at such an early hour? It couldn't possibly have been the landlord. I wasn't late on any rent, and I hadn't even informed him that I was leaving. I approached the door and carefully opened it, peering through the little opening I had created. A tall, slender man dressed completely in black with a collared shirt and a jacket stood in front of me.

“Hello?” I was a bit perplexed as to why this guy was knocking on my door.

“Ms. Casteel?” His face was lit up with a welcoming grin. “My name is James. I was sent by Mr. Presley to come pick you up and take you to the studio today.”

“What?” I had to close my mouth since it was hanging open.

James made a gesture behind him. I pushed open the door a little farther and saw a vehicle parked in the short driveway. It was the most expensive-looking automobile I'd ever seen. “I was hired by Mr. Presley to be your driver, ma’am. I was told to be here to get you around this time. Mr. Presley is expecting you.”

My mouth felt like it was full of cotton. I couldn't say anything. I was at a loss for words. I'd never been escorted anyplace before. I'd been forced to rely on public transit or drive myself. It was a little overwhelming, but the fear of being late for the set jolted me out of my stupor. I grabbed my pocketbook, jacket, and home keys as soon as I could. I dashed out the front door and shut it behind me. James had already opened the rear door for me. I slipped inside the vehicle, and he closed the door as he approached the driver's seat. The car's interior was all crimson, with leather seats. James began driving towards the studio, sometimes checking his rearview mirror for me.

It didn't take long to get to the studio. We arrived just outside Elvis' trailer. He had been seated and chatting to Colonel Parker, but as the car arrived, I observed him shift his focus. Elvis' hand came out to assist me up as James opened the vehicle door. He had a faint, tentative grin on his face. I grabbed his hand in mine and got out of the vehicle, right in front of Elvis. I had to angle my head slightly to peek into his eyes. He still held my hand in his.

“Hey, baby,” he said, his voice as smooth as honey.

“Don’t you think the car was a bit much?” I cocked my brow.

Looking down at our joined hands, he laughed gently. “No. You’re my girl now. I want you safe, especially from those buzzard reporters that are going to start coming after you.”

I hadn't even considered it. People would ultimately find out about our relationship, and it and I would be the hottest gossip to some and public enemy number one to many others. My pulse rate increased when I realized this, but I tried not to show it to Elvis. “Oh, I guess I hadn’t thought about that.”

“After everything that’s been happenin’ out there…I just want to protect what’s close to me.”

I nodded, thoroughly understanding him. “I understand.”

“Now, enough talk. I’ve been thinkin’ about kissin’ you again all night.” Elvis encircled my waist and pulled me into a kiss. I grinned against his lips.

***

The last day of shooting was here and gone. I had packed my belongings and was getting ready to get into the vehicle where James was waiting to take me back home. He'd already opened the door for me, but I came to a stop when I saw the light from Elvis's trailer flickering. I assumed he'd be sleeping. He had looked so worn out.

“Ms. Casteel…?” James seemed worried that I had frozen in place.

I motioned him away. “You can go, James. I think I’m gonna stay here tonight.”

“Are you sure, ma’am?”

I nodded to him as I glanced over my shoulder. “I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He seemed nervous, but he gave me a small bow and shut the rear seat door. I put my arms about myself to keep myself warm as I headed to Elvis' trailer. I carefully opened the door and allowed myself in. Except for the little TV, everything was pitch black. Elvis was stretched down on the sofa, still clothed in the clothing he was wearing when I left. A tape recorder stood next to him, playing his rendition of "Here Comes Santa Claus." The tune had been released to the public the day prior and was already generating a lot of attention. It didn't matter, however. I could tell Elvis despised it, despised having to do it in the first place.

I approached him gently. It took him a while to realize he wasn't alone. He looked at me, his steely gaze softening and becoming kind and welcoming. I put my back against the wall. “Satnin…” He had informed me early on that only his mother had called him that, but I had adopted the moniker since hearing me say it made him happy. “Are you alright?”

“Hi, darlin’.” He glanced down, as if he was trying to think of anything to say but couldn't. He seemed deflated, fatigued by more than just filming. He reached behind him to switch off the recording, clearly sick of hearing himself sing.

I turned to face the television. It was the midst of Dr. Martin Luther King's Memorial broadcast. As usual, Mahalia Jackson was singing in a manner that made the whole globe want to stop and listen. I moved my hand up my forearm. “Can I watch the memorial with you?”

Elvis cracked the tiniest grin at that. “Yeah, baby. C’mere.” He shifted his weight on the sofa.

I approached him, sat down, and curled my body against his side. He placed his arm around my waist, drawing me closer and kissing my brow. As he continued to stare at the television, he let his lips linger in my hair.

There was silence for a bit until he let out a long sigh. “I’m so tired of playin’ Elvis Presley. Too many people rely on me.”

I knew there was nothing I could do to lighten his load, no matter how much I wished I could. But it wasn't right that he had to suffer in order to care for everyone else. He didn't deserve it. I put my hand on his neck and began tracing the creases with my fingertips. “You know…I fell in love with your smile? Now, I don’t care about the money or the fame or anythin’ else. I just want you to be happy. And I’d do anything to see that smile on your face again.”

Elvis shut his eyes. He put his hand in my hair and started rubbing my head. “Just stay with me, darlin’, and I’ll smile all you want.”

“I’m right here.” I raised my head just enough to kiss him. “But Elvis…you’re only truly happy when you sing the music you love. I saw it even before I knew you.”

He didn't say anything, but his grasp on me tightened. He cracked open his eyes and returned his gaze to the television. I leaned against him once again. Mahalia Jackson was still singing, her voice carrying everyone's agony and sadness.

“Mahalia Jackson,” Elvis said quietly, “I used to hear her sing at East Street Church.” He pointed at the television. “That’s the music that makes me happy. Music that comes from nowhere else but the soul.” He turned up the volume on the TV so that the woman's voice filled the whole trailer.

“Then sing that music, baby. And don’t let anybody tell you you can’t.”

Elvis fixed his gaze on the screen. His free hand reached out and interlaced our fingers. “I think it’s time to make some changes.”

Stay tuned for part 6!! Click HERE to view!

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pxnsneverland · 7 months

Text

Hellfire Lost | Eddie Munson x oc (part 2)

Part 1

pairings: eddie munson x oc

word count: 1890

warnings/notes:

Chapter 2

As I filed out of the gym with the rest of the crowd, I could still hear the jubilant cries of Hawkins High's victory echoing in my ears. My brother's friend Lucas Sinclair, who I've known for years and who has never demonstrated any talent in sports, had thrown a nearly perfect shot just as the buzzer sounded. The entire school was in a good mood. The senior players were sent off with a boom, and it was a wonderful one. I looked at the time. Nearing ten, it was time for me to meet Dustin beside the car. However, Andy, one of the senior basketball players, stopped me from moving forward toward the car. “So, Jules, pretty good game wasn’t it?”

I had to force myself to keep myself from covering my nose because he still smelled like game-day perspiration.“Yeah, it was a great game. It’s nice for Hawkins to have a championship again.”

“Some of us are meeting up at Benny’s to celebrate.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “You should come. We could, I don’t know, hang out.” Andy cast a flirtatious glance my way.

I didn't find it enjoyable to drink beer in a closed restaurant. Spending time with Andy sounded even less appealing. I yanked his arm away from my shoulders and drew my sweater closer to my body. “I can’t. I have to take my brother back home and my mom doesn’t really like me going out after dark.”

“You could always sneak out. Come on, even Chrissy is going.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” I quickly left before he could continue. I exhaled a sigh of relief when I was no longer in his line of sight. Andy had previously asked me out, so I knew this wouldn't be the last time before we both graduated. The basketball boys were decent enough, despite their tendency to be rude to people who did not run in their circle. Andy, on the other hand, was the worst of them all—a pig. It felt like a curse to be the object of his affection.

I was still attempting to ignore Andy's musty odor as I walked to my car. Then I came to a halt due to a strange sight. Eddie was still parked next to me when I noticed him getting into his van, but that wasn't unusual. The peculiar part was Chrissy getting into the passenger seat. She began by scanning the area to see if anyone was watching her. I'd never heard either of them speak to the other before. The cheerleader and the nerdy metalhead are not exactly a popular friend pairing. There they were, though, and the car quickly accelerated down the road. Chrissy had been acting strangely lately, especially tonight, but was that it? Was she secretly meeting Eddie Munson behind Jason's back? I felt a pain in my chest that I immediately recognized as jealousy. My thoughts returned to an incident from a few weeks ago…

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

2 weeks ago

As I made my way down the hallway after cheer practice, I was heading for the parking lot. I heard people turning the corner at the opposite end of the hallway. Some of the basketball players' voices stood out to me, particularly Andy's. I didn't want to deal with him trying to ask me out on a date again. I dashed into the nearest room, shut the door behind me, and peered through the tiny glass window to see when they were gone and the area was safe.

“Hiding from the cops?” I jumped when I heard the voice and had to restrain myself from screaming. I had hoped that after what happened at Star Court Mall, I would be less frightened by loud noises. I quickly realized that Eddie was the owner of the voice. He was seated at a table with figurines on top of a hand-drawn map spread out on the table, a dimly lit light nearby. He had been writing in a notebook.

“You scared me,” I remarked, “And no. I’m hiding from the basketball team actually.”

Eddie chuckled. “Why? Aren’t all the cheerleaders and basketball players friends or something?”

I shrugged as I took a step back from the door. “Are you friends with every metalhead at this school?”

He laughed and smiled. In the dim light, it made his large brown eyes sparkle.“Touche.”

I sat off to the side of the table to avoid interfering with anything he was doing. I crossed my legs though my cheer skirt didn’t leave too much of my lower half to the imagination. “Actually, I’m just hiding from Andy. Ever since the term started he’s been asking me on dates constantly and I keep saying no. But he assumes he’ll wear me down eventually.”

Eddie snorted. “Guys toss balls into laundry baskets and suddenly they think they’re entitled to anything they want.”

He was correct. The basketball team effectively ran the school. Any girl would be smitten with Andy and overjoyed that he was even thinking about going out with them. I, on the other hand, was not one of those girls. I'd only tried out for the cheerleading squad because Chrissy and I had been friends since middle school. We kept running in the same circle, but she seemed to enjoy it more than I did. As a cheerleader and Chrissy's friend, I had to spend time with the basketball team. But I felt more at ease when I was with my true friends, Steve, Nancy, and Robin. We may have bonded over nearly being killed by Russians or eaten alive by monsters, but I'd like to believe it was more.

“Well, Andy is not entitled to me,” I explained, “And I’ll happily kick him in the nuts to remind him of that.”

“Wow, princess, I didn’t know anything violent could come out of your mouth.” I was surprised to find myself laughing as he teased me.

“Did you just call me ‘princess’?”

“Maybe.” Eddie habitually drew his lips into his mouth to hide his smile, his anxiety, or both. “I don’t know. I just think that if you were a character in D&D…you’d probably be a princess. A badass one that can, like, fight and shit, but still a princess.”

I blushed and giggled as I pulled on a hair strand. “Not even.” I took a quick look at the figurines that had been thoughtfully placed throughout the hand-drawn map. “Is that what you’re doing? Playing D&D by yourself?”

“You can’t really play D&D by yourself. That’s kind of the point. Interacting with people.” He started fiddling with the pen in his hand. Because of the way his many rings reflected the light, it appeared as if he was playing with stars. “Which I fucking hate, but somehow this…this makes it easier.”

“I never really knew much about it until Dustin started playing.” I picked up one of the figures. It was surprisingly complex for its size. It was also painted, which added character and depth to the inanimate object. “Did you paint this yourself?”

He got up from his seat and sat next to me. He took a closer look at the figure I was holding. I could feel his body heat because he was so close. “Yeah. That’s Cas. He used to be a servant to Vecna, at least until Vecna killed him. Then he came back as a vampire.” For emphasis, he raised his arms with clawed hands. He put his hands on my shoulders, causing me to jump and laugh. “Then he killed Vecna himself in revenge.”

“Sounds entertaining.” I was starting to see why Dustin thought Eddie was so special. He was unapologetically himself, but he was also kind, funny, and sweet. It didn't matter to him whether he fit in or not. His tribe was everything to him. That feature piqued my interest.

“You should join Hellfire. It would be much more entertaining with a princess around.”

“I’m not a princess. I would probably be like an ogre or a troll or something.”

“No. You’re too pretty to be an ogre.” He locked his gaze firmly on mine. His voice changed abruptly, becoming more whisper-like and deeper.“The first time I saw you, when you first dropped Dustin off at Hellfire, I thought ‘wow, I’ve just met the most beautiful girl in the world’. And then I talked to you and you were nice and smart too.”

I didn't mind his proximity because he had grown even closer. I shakily laughed, chewing on my lower lip. I was at a loss for words and didn't know how to respond. I just knew I liked what he was saying and that I wanted him to keep talking.

Eddie reached out to take the figurine, which was still in my grasp. He lingered, his hand resting on mine. His hands were slightly rough and calloused, and I remembered Dustin saying something about him playing the guitar, but they were also light and supple, as if he was testing my resolve to push him away.“Even your laugh is beautiful.” He maintained eye contact with me and gave me a small smile. “Just like a princess.”

That I was the one to close the gap between us and press my lips against his astounded me. They were soft, warm, and luscious. The kiss gave me the same sensation as a 13-year-first old's kiss. He rested his hand on my thigh, as if he needed it for support. Perhaps because my mind was racing, his was as well. And it was the reeling that jolted me back to reality, causing me to pull away, jump off the table, and stare at him in disbelief. Had I just kissed him? Eddie Muson: freak, bad boy, and criminal? My body had moved before my mind could catch up because I liked it, I liked him. My heart continued to race.

"Juliet..." he tried to say, but I cut him off before he could finish.

I dashed out of the room, down the hall, and into the parking lot, where my mother's car was waiting. My lips were still warm from the kiss, and my face was red. I drove away, and we hadn't spoken about it since.

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

“You yell at me to be here by 10 and you’re just showing up?!” Dustin said as he approached the car, which jolted me out of my reverie.

“I was here before 10,” I retorted as I made my way to the car.

“I heard Hawkins won the game. Congrats. Now you can graduate without looking like a loser.” His tone was playful.

I cracked a smile. “You’re the loser, Dusty. So did you end up beating the cult of Vecna?” I finished with the same deep voice Eddie had used earlier.

“You bet your ass. I told Eddie we were going to beat his campaign! Now he can’t talk anymore shit.”

I returned my gaze to the road where Eddie and Chrissy had driven away. “Hey, has Eddie ever told you about him and Chrissy…hanging out?”

Dustin appeared perplexed, then amused. “Chrissy Cunningham? Hell no. He wishes someone that hot would pay attention to him.” He cocked his brow. “Why?“

“No reason.” Finally, I opened the car doors. “Let’s go home.”

Stay tuned for part 3!! Click HERE to view!

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pxnsneverland · 7 months

Text

Don’t Be Cruel | austin!elvis x oc (part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 1890

warnings/notes: N/A

Chapter 4

Even after a few days, Martin Luther King's death weighed heavily on Elvis' mind. I could see him straining to keep his cool. Even completing the film seemed less important to him. I did my best to console him and distract him from his inner turmoil, but I didn't feel like I was doing enough. The Colonel also attempted to deflect Elvis' attention, despite the fact that his plan contained a whole new musical extravaganza for Elvis. Christmas Elvis.

“Jingles, Jingles,” Colonel Parker sang, “Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus lane,” as he steered a reindeer-drawn sleigh engraved into a 3D copy of the stage Elvis was to play on.

We sat outside around Elvis' trailer, trying to stay cool in the scorching heat of Los Angeles. Elvis shifted his gaze between the Colonel and the diorama. I could see the quiver in his eye as he tried to conceal his disgust at the prospect of a Christmas special. I couldn't disguise my annoyance either. A Christmas special? It was so unlike Elvis, so unlike anything he had ever done. It was out of character, and I was certain his fans would agree.

“Elvis Presley’s Wonderful World of Christmas,” Colonel said, straightening up, “Brought to you by the Singer Sewing Machine Company, to every television set in America.”

“Elvis and Christmas?” I questioned, “It just doesn’t seem right.”

“Why not? My boy is a good Christian son of God. The fans will love it. It only takes three days to tape and there’s no audience.”

“I’m not questioning that Elvis is a Christian. I’m sure his mama taught him well. I’m just sayin’...nothing about Elvis up until now would lead anyone to believe he would sit in front of a fake set and sing Christmas songs.”

“With all due respect, Ms. Casteel, I don’t know why you’re questioning anything that has nothing to do with you.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Elvis said, folding his arms, “Angel’s right. Now I ain’t sang and performed live in years, Colonel. I don’t know if a Christmas special is the best way to start that up again.”

Colonel Parker wrinkled his brow. He gave me a disgusted glance before returning his gaze to Elvis. I didn't hate anybody, but Colonel Parker was on his way to being the first. I didn't appreciate how he handled Elvis or how he purposefully sheltered him from anybody else's perspective that contradicted what he wanted Elvis to accomplish. He was attempting to transform Elvis into a puppet, removing the rebel I had grown to know.

“Why not?” Colonel asked Elvis. “A Christmas sweater. Made on the new Singer home knitting apparatus.”

When I looked over at Elvis, he was no longer paying attention to anything Colonel said. On the little TV Jerry had dragged out, he was watching Robert F. Kennedy. I focused my attention on it. He was delivering a speech in protest of Dr. King's assassination. I rose up and approached Elvis, laying a hand on his back. He naturally placed his arm over my shoulder. For days, the TV had been tuned into the riots and carnage in Elvis' birthplace of Memphis. That, more than anything else, had broken him.

“Memphis is burning,” I said quietly, my gaze fixed on the screen.

“You’re right, darlin’. And a damn Christmas special ain’t gonna help.” Elvis strode back over to the Colonel with me in tow. “Is this the best we can do, Admiral?”

“Well, we took the Hollywood phonies for every nickel they had and, after filming ends next week, it is time for us to pack up our tents and move onto greener pastures.” He drew in closer. “We’ve seen Elvis the Rebel. We’ve seen Elvis the Movie Star. Now, we will see Elvis the Family Entertainer.”

“And appliance salesman?” Jerry said from behind us.

Elvis tensed beneath my fingertips. “What did you say?”

I attempted to retain hold of him. “Elvis, don’t…” My grip wasn't strong enough, and he slid out easily, slowly heading towards Jerry. “Jerry was just jokin’.”

“I don’t give a damn if he was jokin’ or not.” Elvis jabbed a finger at Jerry's face. I could see the dark-haired vocalist shaking, but I couldn't tell whether it was from rage or from Colonel's prior statements. “Listen, Jerry, I don’t need you to question me about how I support my family and every goddamn person here! You understand me?! If you don’t like it, you can pack your shit and go back to Memphis.”

Jerry hadn't moved an inch since Elvis approached him. I could feel the intensity in his gaze even though I couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses. Jerry stood behind Elvis through it all, no matter what. For him to question Elvis was an indication that he didn't agree with the path Elvis was headed. They locked gazes for a moment, and I was afraid one of them would swing on the other. Instead, Elvis broke the look and went inside his trailer, slamming the door shut behind him.

“You shouldn’t have said that, Jerry,” I admonished, my gaze fixed on the door through which Elvis had vanished.

“Even you think this whole Christmas special thing is stupid.” He pointed at the television. “Look at what’s going on. Look at the world. And we’re going to answer with silly songs about Santa Claus and reindeer.”

“Elvis is tryin’, Jerry! You just don’t understand.” I dashed to the trailer, opening and locking the door behind me.

Elvis sat on the couch, holding a glass of whiskey in his hand, lingering. He was looking out into space, conducting an internal conversation with himself. He just glanced up for a split second to see who had broken his silence. When he realized it was me, his face softened. He placed the whiskey glass on the table next to him and indicated for me to approach him. “C’mere, darlin’.”

My body felt like it was becoming hotter and hotter as I came closer to him. I'd become accustomed to his flirtation and playful pining. But the expression on his face was everything but lighthearted or taunting. Despite his kind manner towards me, I had never seen him seem so serious. I took a seat on the sofa next to him. He took my hand quickly and brought it to his lips to kiss my fingers. I let out a low gasp.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he looked up at me through his thick lashes, “I shouldn’a went off on Jerry like that. I know he means well.”

“He just doesn’t understand. You’re tryin’ to do everything for everybody. You’re tryin’ not to disappoint anyone, especially the Colonel. But it does go against everything you’ve ever told me you believed about yourself.”

Elvis toyed with my fingers almost hypnotically. He decided to look at this rather than at me. He drew designs on my palm. “You always know how to put what I’m feelin’ into words. You always understand.”

I gave a little grin. “Isn’t that why we became friends that first day? Because we understand each other?”

He put down his preoccupation with my fingers. “Are we really only friends?”

My breath became stuck in my throat. We were, of course. Friends only. It would be absurd to believe there was anything more to it, no matter how much I wanted there to be. I wanted his flirtation to be genuine. I wanted him to feel the same way I did. I wanted to be the one person who had his heart. But a small-town girl like myself, who was nothing unique in any way, had no such prerogative. He could have chosen more worthy people. After next week, after the Christmas special, he'd return to Memphis, and I'd have to accept that I'd never see him again. Tears welled up behind my eyelids, but I would not let them fall. “Elvis…”

Suddenly, Elvis drew me into his arms, squeezing my body against his such that I couldn't move away. Still, he held me as if I were made of glass. I breathed the fragrance that had become his distinctive aroma. He felt so powerful and solid against my body. I imagined he could hold me like this forever. He placed his ear to my lips. “Don’t cha know how I feel about you? The first time I looked into your eyes, dark and blue like a lake in the moonlight. And then we talked and talked and I didn’t feel so alone, so unseen.” He drew back far enough to look me in the eyes. The genuineness I witnessed in him almost broke my heart. “God, I think I fell in love with you right then.”

What I was hearing was unbelievable. I wanted to pinch myself because I thought I was in a dream. I'd fallen in love with him the first time he smiled at me, the sunshine glinting off his black locks. He couldn't possibly love me. Such things do not simply happen. “But…I’m not…I’m not pretty. I’m not famous. I'm nobody. Your fans, your career…what will everyone think seein’ you with me?”

Elvis shook his head, reaching out to cup my face. “Screw all of that. All I know is I don’t want our story to end when this movie is done filmin’. I know how much you risked comin’ out to Hollywood tryin’ to make it alone. But, darlin’, we ain’t got to be alone anymore.” He pulled a stray strand of black hair out of my face. “I’ll protect you. I’ll be with you and as long as I live, you’ll never want for nothin’. Just say you feel the same way.”

I couldn't keep my tears from falling. My heart was swollen to the point that I thought it may explode out of my chest. All I ever wanted to show was that I was more than a small-town girl, that I was more than what my parents thought of me. I simply needed to know that I wasn't bound to suffer and travel around the world alone. It was what drew me to Hollywood. But I had no idea it would lead me to Elvis. “Goddammit, Elvis Presley, of course I feel the same way.”

Elvis' lips were on mine before I could even breathe. We melded together like perfectly fitting puzzle pieces. His lips moved in unison with mine, his tongue stroking mine in a passionate embrace. I couldn't think of anything since my head was so light. My whole existence was overwhelmed by Elvis, by the sentiments I had suppressed for weeks, months. He positioned me so that my back was flat on the sofa, and he hovered over me, the majority of his weight resting on his forearms, which lay on each side of my head. We didn't let go of one other's lips until we both needed to come up for air. Even so, he bowed his head and began kissing my neck lightly.

“Angel…my angel…” he said between touches on my flesh. “Promise you’ll never leave me.”

The idea that I would ever consider it made me want to laugh. When his lips reached a sweet spot, it came out as a moan. "I promise."

Stay tuned for part 5!! Click HERE to view!

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