kind of wanna reinforce this here. because i’ve seen ai writing become so popular on tik tok.
ai writing is not okay.
it’s literally theft. just like how ai art steals, ai writing steals. it’s using authors’ very real work to generate whatever you type in. and this also needs to be said as well.
writing is a form of art. fanfiction is a form of literature.
seeing this all over my fyp is REALLY discouraging. fanfic itself is already a labor of love and we love it when you interact. but please do not use ai writing for your fanfic needs when this writing literally steals from fanfic authors.
genuinely don’t know if this post will go around because my interactions outside of hcs are shit, but i hope it does.
I think my niche as a game designer is basically the tabletop RPG equivalent of the guy who writes a thirty thousand word crackfic in response to a meme and gets several dozen people emotionally invested in a pairing that's objectively dumb as hell.
The Moon ||| neteyam x human!reader
pairings: neteyam x human!fem!reader
summary: neteyam would give you the moon if he could
words: 8.8k (I’m dead omg)
warnings/notes: friends to lovers, major ANGST (cried while writing this one) bits of fluff, implied sexual themes, lovesick!neteyam, mentions of sickness and medical treatments, death, use of y/n, I am not a medical professional so I lot of this is just my interpretation I’m sorry that it won’t be accurate pls don’t hate me, mentions of mates, spider is your adoptive brother (in this house we love spider 🏻), and of course my corny writing, this is the product of me listening to moon song on a loop not sure how this happened, This is gonna be rough apologies in advance
The first time Neteyam saw you was when he was eight years old. He was used to seeing Spider around, but not you. You were new.
Trembling behind Spider it looked like you were trying to disappear. Barely ￼peeking up over his shoulder to look. Neteyam's tail swished in curiosity as he observed you.
"Guys, this is Y/N." Spider introduced you while pushing you forward. "She's a little shy." He added.
Your big eyes looked up at the Na'vi children who towered over you. "Hi." You whispered with an awkward smile and a small wave. "You're really tall." You giggled.
Neteyam stared at you in awe immediately infatuated with you. You were unlike any sky person he had ever seen.
"You're just really short." Lo'ak snapped back rolling his eyes.
Neteyam noticed your smile falter and shoved his brother. Your smile was beautiful, the prettiest thing the young boy had ever seen. At that moment Neteyam decided you should always be smiling.
Spider explained to the group that you were born here like him. You had never left the lab before. This was the first time you saw the beauty of the forest and the first time you saw a Na'vi in the flesh. You were in awe of everything around you.
Spending the rest of the day playing with the other children you couldn't help but get distracted by your surroundings. The forest was alive it's beauty glowing all around you. You had the urge to explore every last inch of it.
Neteyam kept his eyes locked on you. He was worried that you'd get separated from the rest of them. You were small and delicate, unable to properly protect yourself, so Neteyam decided to protect you.
So that's how it was whenever you played with the Sully children. Neteyam always glued by your side. He couldn't explain it. The way he felt an immediate draw towards you. As if the two of you were meant to find each other.
Neytiri was less than thrilled to have another human child around her kids. One was bad enough. After everything humans had done to their home -to her - she despised them. She even had her doubts about the loyal few who stayed.
What made her even more unsure of you was the way her eldest son never left your side. Ever since Spider introduced you Neteyam was glued to your side. Had it been anyone else Neytiri would have found it endearing. But you were human. You were a demon.
A few years later Neytiri started to notice things about you. The way the forest left you in awe no matter how many times you’d seen it. She'd catch you gasping in excitement over the littlest things. It was as if you could see.
She also noticed the strong bond you had with her children, especially with Neteyam. She knew her son well. Neytiri was well aware of how he felt towards you. She feared the day that he realized his own feelings.
You were sitting in the forest with Neteyam next to you. His mother was across from the two of you. Neytiri was shooting daggers with her eyes at you. The stare made you shift uncomfortably. Neteyam picked up on it placing a gentle hand on your knee.
Neytiri observed how you immediately relaxed. The sweet genuine smiled you gave her son and how he gave you one of his own.
Neytiri had been trying to give Neteyam a lesson on arrow making. He had insisted that you join them since he promised to spend the afternoon with you. Much to her dismay, you were here unintentionally distracting him.
You felt something barely grace your shoulder. Figuring it was Neteyam you didn't pay it much mind. Then another tap on your head. One on your arm. Then your other shoulder.
Looking up, you met Neytiri's eyes. She was staring at you like she had seen a ghost. Starting to feel panicked you looked at your arms. You gasped as your eyes filled with wonder.
Several atokirina' floated around you. They danced up and down gently resting on you. Neteyam had the biggest smile on his face. To him it was confirmation the great mother saw you the way he did.
It was undoubtedly a sign from Eywa herself. Neytiri couldn't believe her eyes. Feeling a sense of déjà vu, she was brought back to the first time she met her mate.
Unable to shake what she had witnessed she went to her mother. After explaining the strange encounter Neytiri waited while Mo’at consulted with Eywa.
“Eywa sees the child.” Mo’at finally spoke. “The Great Mother has declared that she will spend the rest of her life by Neteyam.”
Neytiri couldn’t wrap her mind around it. The concept was so foreign to her. Eywa had accepted you as one of her own. Not only that, it was also her will that you stay by Neteyam. Neytiri would never question the will of Eywa. While she didn’t fully understand it she would have to learn to be okay with it.
From that day on, Neteyam’s mother treated you with a kindness she never had before. You didn’t know what happened for her to finally warm up to you but you were forever grateful she did.
Years went by and it was time for Neteyam to begin training for his iknimaya. You were so excited for him, knowing how important this rite of passage was to the Na'vi. There was a part of you that was downcast as he wouldn't be able to spend time with you every day like he usually does.
Your heart hurt because all you wanted was to be able to experience this with him. For as long as you could remember you wanted to be Na'vi. It was your birthday wish every year though you never told anyone out of embarrassment. That and it wouldn't come true if you told.
You and your brother had begged for avatars for years. Unfortunately the materials and funding needed just wasn’t there. Norm and Max wanted nothing more than to be able to grant your wishes, but it just wasn't a possibility.
"So how long are you going to be gone this time?"
Neteyam sighed. He could hear the disappointment in your voice and it broke his heart. "A month. Maybe two."
You felt like you could burst into tears right then and there. Neteyam was your best friend, not to mention your crush for as long as you could remember. You couldn't imagine not seeing him for that long.
"I'll be back before you know it." Gently he brushed hair out of your face. As much as he loved seeing you in the forest he treasured the moments in your room without your mask. Neteyam loved to see your face without the glass restricting his view.
"Don't forget about me." You playfully pushed him.
He gasped in mock offense. "I could never." He smiled. Before he could stop himself he placed a kiss on your forehead.
Stopping dead in his tracks he pulled back. The pair of you stilled blushes adoring both of your cheeks.
Neteyam tried to burry his feelings for you but it was impossible. He had fallen helplessly in love with his best friend. Not caring that you were human he couldn't deny his feelings. He just wasn't sure how to tell you.
Before you knew it, you were throwing your arms around him as you hugged him goodbye. You went to pull away but he kept you in his embrace for a little longer.
"I'm gonna miss you." He sighed.
"You're going to have so much fun you won't even think about me."
"That's not true you're always on my mind." He blushed.
A blush engulfed your face and you bit your lip. You noticed Neteyam's tail swishing back and forth. Looking up at him he was smiling back at you. His cheeks were slightly tinted.
Standing back with the rest of his family you waved as he joined the other young warriors. "He'll be back before you know it." Spider smiled knowingly at you.
No matter how hard you tried you couldn't keep your crush from your bother. He immediately figured it out. Little did you know most everyone had figured it out. The only ones who hadn't were you and Neteyam.
Neytiri watched you with a smile on her face. As time passed she accepted the idea of you with her son. Finding amusement in the two of you pining after each other.
The time without Neteyam dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Spider did his best to keep you occupied as did the Sully siblings. But your mind never strayed far from the boy your heart beat for.
You were getting ready for bed after a long day. Neteyam was halfway through his training by now. You had been counting down the days to his return.
A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Norm stood awkwardly in the doorway. “You have a visitor.” He informed you.
Furrowing your eyebrows you looked at him confused. It was way past the curfew set for the lab. “Who?”
Before he could answer you Lo’ak pushed passed him and entered your room. He look frustrated and exhausted.
“What are you doing here Lo’ak?” You asked afraid that something was wrong.
Without saying a word he removed the communicator from his neck and handed it to you. “This is for you.” Was all he said.
You looked over the tech not understanding why he was giving it to you especially now of all times. “I’ve been trying to sleep for hours. He won’t leave me alone until he speaks with you.”
Your face lit up knowing exactly who he was. Wasting no time you pressed the button. “Neteyam?” You hesitantly asked.
“Oh Eywa how I’ve missed your voice.” Neteyam’s voice rang through the speaker.
“Yeah I’m not staying to listen to this.” Lo’ak deadpanned before leaving.
Neteyam missed you terribly and begged his father to let him speak with you. Jake felt like it would be a distraction so he didn't allow it. So Neteyam came up with the brilliant idea to pester his little brother until he gave it. It worked rather quickly.
You spent the whole night talking to Neteyam. He told you all about his training not sparing a single detail. He was more interested in what you had been up to. He just wanted to hear your voice.
The day Neteyam was to return was finally here. You and Spider sprinted through the forest heading towards the village. By the time you got there he had already returned.
Searching the crowd you finally saw him. Knees weak your breath caught in your throat. Somehow he looked taller. His mussels were more defined, shoulders wider, and his face sharper. He was no longer a boy. He looked like a man.
You had always wanted Neteyam but this was different. In that moment your want for him was something you hadn't experienced before. It almost felt wrong. Almost.
Neteyam searched the crowd for you. Eyes glancing over a figure that was familiar he did a double take. It was you. You looked different.
Neteyam gulped as he took in your new features. Your hips wider and chest fuller you no longer looked like the little kid everyone was so used to. Neteyam noticed your hair was shorter, resting at just below your shoulders now.
You were beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. A gift from Eywa herself. A primal urge came over him, a desire to take you right then and there. You were to be his mate, he felt that you were destined.
"Neteyam!" You squealed running into his arms. He picked you up twirling you in the air like you weighed nothing.
"I missed you Ma'Y/N." He snuggled his face into your neck.
You bit your lip at the pet name. It was usually reserved for mated couples but Neteyam couldn't help but let it slip.
As the weeks passed on the attraction between the two of was stronger than ever. Stolen glances and intentional accidental touches filled your days.
After Neteyam successfully claimed his Ikran earning his spot among the people he would take you for rides.
"I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you." You looked up at him.
The look you gave him made his heart flutter. A strange satisfaction overcame him knowing that you were proud of him. He wanted you to be proud of him.
That night he walked you back to the lab following you to your room. He desperately needed to speak with you. He had been working up the courage all night.
Neteyam sat next to you on your bed. He loved the moments you shared without your mask in the way. Staring into your eyes without anything in front of them.
"I have earned my place among the people." He said suddenly.
You nodded slowly not sure where he was going with this. "I know I was there." You giggled.
"I may now chose a mate."
Your heart dropped. So this was why he wanted to talk. He was here to tell you that he found someone. He probably wanted you to leave him alone now.
Anxiety flooded your mind as you felt stupid. A part of you actually thought he liked you back. Why would he? You weren’t even the same species. You had nothing to offer him.
“I see.” You gave your best fake smile. “Who’s the lucky girl then?” You had to know.
“You.” Neteyam said without hesitation.
“I’m sorry what?” You asked. There was no way you heard that right.
“You, if you’ll have me.” He looked away shy. He took your confusion as rejection. “I want you to be my mate Y/N.”
“Are you sure?” You asked dumbfounded.
Neteyam cupped your face in his palms. “I see you Y/N.”
Your heart sped up at the phrase you found so beautiful and so terrifying at the same time. He saw you. Every broken piece, every imperfection, all of your good qualities as well as the bad ones, and he still wanted you anyways.
He wanted you despite it all. Neteyam saw you.
“I am human Neteyam.” You said. You needed him to be sure of his choice. Na’vi mate for Life. Of course you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, but you needed to be sure he wouldn’t regret it.
“I know. That changes nothing.”
“I cannot make Tsaheylu.” The bond was the building block of life on Pandora. It was vital to their existence. They bonded with their mates, you would be unable to bond with him in this way.
“I know. But I see you anyways.” He confessed.
“I’ll never be tsahík.”
“None of that matters to me Y/N. Stop trying to give me reasons to not want you. It won’t work.”
Looking down in shame you gave him one last reason. “I can’t give you children Neteyam. You’d be making so many sacrifices just to have me. It’s not an equal trade.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He smiled. “You are all I want. It’s always been you Y/N. Always. Nothing else matters when you are enough for me.”
Neteyam leaned in as if he was about to kiss you. “You are what I want Y/N.”
“You are what I want too.” You breathed. “I see you Neteyam.
That was all he needed to hear. He crashed his lips onto yours passionately kissing you. Lips moving in sync until you pulled away to catch your breath.
Staring into his golden eyes you removed your shirt leaving your chest bare before him. Neteyam’s eyes widened at your sudden action. He wasn’t expecting anything to happen, he was happy with kissing.
“We don’t have to do anything Ma’Y/N.”
There was that name again. You smiled. “I want to. I want you Neteyam. That is, if you’ll have me.” You batted your eyelashes at him.
His tail twitched in excitement before he tackled you back onto the bed. The two of you spent the night a tangled mess of limbs. “We are mated before Eywa for life.” Neteyam whispered into your ear before you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
It had been two years since you mated with Neteyam. It had been the best years of your life.
His family was immediately accepting of your relationship. To your surprise so was most of the clan. There were a few that frowned upon your union but Neteyam made sure to put them in their place.
Following Neteyam’s lead you ran through the forest. He made sure to keep looking back for you so the two of you wouldn’t get separated.
“So where are we going again?” You huffed out of breath.
“It’s a surprise.” He smiled back at you.
Neteyam took you to a clearing that had the most beautiful flowers you had ever seen. You were fascinated by the nature of Pandora.
“I wish I could smell them.” You sighed. Always longing to smell the fresh air and to feel the breeze on your face.
Neteyam frowned at your words. He too hated your mask, but it kept you alive. It allowed him to show you his home. To Neteyam it was worth the inconvenience.
“Come on, let’s keep going.” He smiled. “There’s something else I wanna show you.”
Without a second thought you followed him. Starting to feel faint you slowed down. Everything was getting blurry and your head was woozy.
"Neteyam, could you slow down a little?" You panted, pushing your hand against a tree for support. "I'm a little dizzy."
Stopping dead in his tracks he rushed over to you. His mind racing with a million different thoughts. His heart screaming at him to protect you. Not looking good at all your face had gone pale. Your eyes looked exhausted. You looked ill.
"I will take you to my grandmother. You do not look good Ma'Y/N."
"I'm fine Teyam." You attempted a smile to reassure him. The last thing you wanted was to be rushed into the village. The People were used to you, but having the Tsahík tend to a sky demon may be pushing your luck. "Just take me back to the lab please."
Scooping you up he held you close to his chest bridal style. "Neteyam, I could've walked. I'm not broken." You rolled your eyes. Ignoring your protests he continued the trek back to the lab. Something was wrong and you were unwell.
Gently setting you down at the lab entrance he insisted that he come in with you. Neteyam was still slightly unsure of sky people, the lab making him nervous. But this was different. Anxiety consumed him and he couldn't leave without making sure you were okay.
Taking your mask off you then offered Neteyam a mask of his own. He hastily took it eyes never leaving you. The last thing on his mind was a mask for himself. He could breath this air for hours anyways.
Walking the familiar hallways to your room he observed your small steps. Gently panting as if the walk was tiring you out. You insisted you were fine but your body language said otherwise.
Plopping down on your bed you made grabby hands reaching out for him. "Cuddle me." You playfully commanded. Smiling he complied gently laying down next to you, arms instinctively pulling you closer.
Taking a deep breath letting your scent fill his lungs he hummed. Neteyam gently peppered a few kisses to your face before burying his head in your neck.
"Neteyam stop." You giggled. "It tickles." You could feel his smile against your neck. Running your free hand through his braids you sighed in satisfaction. Moments like this made up for all the bad ones.
You felt so safe in his arms, like he could protect you from anything. And he would. He'd burn the whole world if it meant keeping you safe.
"Teyam?" You whispered fingers still playing with his hair. He hummed in response snuggling closer to you. "I love you to the moon and back."
The expression felt odd rolling off your tongue. Checks heated in a blush you were a bit embarrassed. After all, you found it to be incredibly cheesy. But there was a part of you that found the sentiment sweet.
You'd first read it engraved on a tiny silver necklace. It had belonged to your mother. One of the scientists gave it to you once you were older. It was the only thing you had of her. Everything else was left up to your imagination.
For years they tried to allude to the fact that your mother had passed away. It seemed easier to let you believe that than tell you the truth. But even though you were a child you weren't clueless. You knew that your mother had left you here.
Terrified of everything that had happened she went back to earth unable to take you with her. That's how you found yourself being raised by the scientists on Pandora with Spider as your honorary brother.
A small part of you cling to the saying. Wishing it was true, that your mother loved you to the moon and back - to Pandora and back. That one day she'd be back for you.
You knew it would never happen. So instead you say it to Neteyam. Because you truly meant it. You would go to the moon and back for him. And you would be back. You'd always come back for him.
Neteyam's ears perked up at your words. It wasn't the first time you had told him you loved him but you had never said it like this. He didn't entirely understand it but he appreciated your words just the same.
Smiling at you like you were the most precious thing he ever laid his eyes on. "I will give you the moon my love."
Laughing you pulled him closer. "You can't give someone the moon Neteyam."
But he would for you. You were his moon, his stars, and everything in between. Whatever you asked for he would deliver. "If I could give you the moon, I would give you the moon." He confirmed.
"You're a dork." You giggled.
"So are you then. You started it." He playfully fired back. Neteyam's mind turned somber for a moment. "Are you feeling better?"
You nodded cuddling more into your mattress to get comfy. "Much better. I think I need more cuddles to be one hundred percent though."
Smiling, Neteyam snuggled into you. "I'm more than happy to assist."
As the weeks went by you continued to feel strange. It didn’t seem like a big deal to you, so you didn’t want to bring it up. After all, you were human. Getting sick was a part of every day life.
No one noticed how you were acting strange. Except Neteyam of course. He picked up on the way you always seemed tired. The way your eyes looked a bit dull as they stared off into space. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, he saw it all.
You were now having trouble keeping your meals down. Stomach always feeling like it was in knots you didn’t know what was wrong. No one had caught you throwing up yet, but they did start to notice how you were losing weight without trying.
Norm awkwardly tried to broach the subject as always trying to be the father you never had. He was afraid you were doing something self inflicted and wanted to support you in any way he could.
It took awhile but you were able to convince him it wasn't what he thought. You honestly didn't know what was wrong, you just one day started feeling sick.
Norm being the man of science that he was immediately wanted to start tests to get to the bottom of what was wrong. Somehow you managed to get him to hold off for awhile. The idea of going through a bunch of tests scared you.
You didn’t get out of it for very long. Neteyam was worried sick about you and insisted you do whatever was needed to get better. Reluctantly you agreed spending the next several days undergoing tests and blood work.
Neteyam even took you to his grandmother for her guidance. She wasn’t able to pinpoint what was wrong. Whatever you had was a human sickness, unknown to the Na’vi.
Jake took a special interest in what was wrong. He was once a human himself. He was well aware of everything that could go wrong with the human body. Plus he deeply cared for his daughter in law. Jake consulted with Norm regularly regarding his findings.
The Olo'eyktan thought it’d be best if he was one of the first to find out. That way he would be able to explain it to his family better. He was by no means a doctor but he knew his son would trust his words more than Norm’s.
He could see the way Neteyam looked like his was close to having a melt down. He had a forced calmness about him. As if he was in complete denial that something might be wrong. Because he was. If he refused to acknowledge it, it wouldn’t be real.
"Leukemia." Norm spoke like that one simple word explained everything. Jake's breath caught in his throat at the word. Neteyam stood head moving back and forth between the two of them, waiting for an explanation.
His heart hammered in his chest as they spoke words that meant nothing to him. Human words he didn't know. "How long?" His father asked quietly.
"It's progressed rather quickly. She had been exhibiting symptoms for a few months now. It's hard to say how long she's had it."
Neteyam knew they were talking about you. Dread filled him and he felt sick to his stomach. The feeling of being left in the dark was too much for him, he felt like he could scream.
"How long does she have?" Jake asked again eyes screwed onto Norm. He spoke hushed this time. Jake wasn't a fool. He was well aware of his son's feelings towards you. In fact, the whole clan knew.
How long does she have? The words echoed in Neteyam's brain. Repeating over and over again. They couldn't be talking about your life could they? You were just a little sick, you had said so yourself. This couldn't be real he refused to believe it.
"I've estimated three years." Max spoke up. "She has a thirty percent chance."
Thirty. That was low wasn't it? There was no possible way you'd have such a low chance. The science geeks were the best of the best. You'd also have access to the remedies of the Na'vi. Most importantly you'd have Neteyam. He made a vow to take care of and protect you. He indented to keep that vow.
"What are her opinions? What can we do?" Jake needed all the information he could get if he was going to have to explain this to his son.
"Chemo would be the next step. It's going to be hard, she's already so weak. It's going to take a lot out of her."
Jake glanced over at his son. Neteyam looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Hell, he was on the verge of a panic attack. His eyes were wide as he stared at his father, pleading for an answer.
Jake sighed, "Would she have a better chance back on Earth? Can we even give her proper care here?"
Earth? You couldn't go to earth. Neteyam refused to allow it. If you left he'd never see you again. He wouldn't be able to care for you while you're sick. He also wouldn't know how you were doing - he wouldn't know if you were still breathing or not.
His mouth hung open as his brain tried to register this. "She can't go to earth dad." He said just above a whisper. "She can't go!" He said again this time yelling desperately at his father.
"Calm down boy." Jake hushed him placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let them speak."
"She's not going anywhere." Norm said trying to choose his words carefully. "Her immune system is weak right now. I don't think she would survive the trip. I think it's best to treat her here with what we have available."
Tears stung Neteyam's eyes as he stared at the ground. You were so sick you wouldn't survive the trip to earth. Would you even survive here? He came to the horrific realization that you were sick and you might be dying.
"She's strong though." Jake said more so to his son. "She can fight this."
Max and Norm looked at each other with sad smiles. Neither doubted your strength, you were one of the strongest people they knew. But this was different. They had to entertain the possibility that even if you fight with your all you could lose. They also knew that they didn't have everything needed to properly treat you. But for the sake of the broken boy in front of them they left that part out.
Staying positive was hard but you gave it your best try. You felt weak but it wasn’t insufferable yet. The worst part of it was you couldn’t go out exploring like you were accustomed to.
Your friends made sure to keep you company. Your room become the unofficial official hangout spot. Lo’ak and Spider would play games with you, Kiri kept you up to date on all of the gossip in the village, Tuk insisted that the two of you color, and Neteyam? Neteyam never left your side.
He was there not long after your woke up and often times he stayed the night. Neteyam never wanted to leave your side, wanting to make sure you were cared for in any way possible. He would be there every step of the way.
When it was time for chemo you felt extremely anxious. As Norm prepared the IV Neteyam eyed the needle untrustworthily. You winced as it went into your arm. Neteyam hissed ready to throw Norm across the room for causing you pain.
Norm panicked and you quickly explained to Neteyam that it was okay. It only hurt for a few minutes. You had to deal with it. You needed the treatment to get better.
Neteyam cuddled up next to you holding your hand. He tried to do things to distract you from it. The pair of you would watch movies from back on earth. You taught him how to play uno. He could never beat you and it frustrated him to no end. He was close to throwing his cards in anger. Seeing him be such a sore looser made you laugh.
Neteyam loved your laugh. He didn’t hear it much anymore so it was his life’s mission to make you laugh as much as he could.
He believed you’d make a full recovery. This was simply a bump in the road.
"Please don't let him in." You pleaded with Spider. "I don't want him to see me like this." Tears were stinging your eyes now.
Spider looked sympathetically at you. You tried so hard to be strong for everyone but it was wearing down on you. This was effecting you worse than you thought it would. All you wanted to sulk in your room by yourself.
"He's freaking out Y/N. I'm afraid he's gonna start breaking stuff." He chuckled. Gently placing his hand on your shoulder his concerned look returned. "He cares about you. A lot. He just wants to make sure you're okay."
Nodding your head you wiped your face with your hands. You didn't want him to see that you had been crying. "Okay. Let him in."
Spider went off to find Neteyam it didn't take him too long thanks to the commotion he was causing. "You cannot keep me here!" Neteyam bellowed.
He tried to moved around the crowd of scientists who were attempting to keep him back. Neteyam growled in frustration. "Y/N is my mate you cannot keep me from her."
"Bro, calm down!" Spider yelled as Neteyam went to throw something off of a desk. He stopped as soon as he heard Spider. Neteyam's shoulders relaxed slightly at the familiar face.
"They are trying to keep me away." He snapped.
"Yeah I can see that." Spider huffed. "If you're done with your temper tantrum Y/N is ready to see you."
Raising his head high Neteyam walked past the scientists smugly. When out of earshot he bent down to Spider "They said Y/N did not want to see me." His face etched with worry.
Sighing Spider ran his hand over his face. "She's upset right now. It's not my place to say. She needs to be the one to tell you. But she's upset and embarrassed right now. She didn't want you to see her like that."
Neteyam's heart clenched at his words. The thought of you being so upset that you didn't want to see him crushed him. Walking into your room he was preparing for the worst.
You were sitting in your bed with your hands folded in your lap. Staring down you were avoiding his gaze.
He looked you up and down to see if their was any visible signs of what was wrong. If there was a problem Neteyam wanted to attack it head on. Your sickness wasn't like that though. He had to sit and watch helplessly as you suffered. It consumed him to the point he lived in constant agony.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Except your eyes were red and puffy like you had been crying. You were crying. Why were you crying? Neteyam's protective side took the forefront once again, ready to crush whatever had upset you.
Rushing to your side he cupped your cheek with his hand. "Ma'love what's wrong?" Worried etched on his face.
"You can have these back. I don't need them anymore." You sniffed. Your closed hands reached out to his. Opening your hands you gently poured the contents into his.
Neteyam stilled as his beads spilled into his hands. They were the beads he had given to you. He loved seeing you proudly wearing them in your hair, letting everyone see you were his.
"You don't want them anymore?" He softly asked. It felt like a punch to the gut. It was as if you were rejecting him.
"I won't be able to wear them anymore Neteyam." Meeting his gaze your heart broke seeing his face. He didn't understand why you were returning his gift to you.
"My hair is falling out Neteyam." You sighed.
"I do not understand." His brow furrowed trying to put the pieces together.
"The chemo- the medicine makes my hair fall out." You tried to explain.
Spider walked over and put his hand on your shoulder for support. He viewed you as his little sister. It hurt him to see you suffering like this.
Neteyam didn't understand how this medicine was helping you if it was making it so hard on you. Human medicine was more complicated than the Na'vi remedies he was used to.
You knew that he was genuinely curious and just trying to understand but you were tired if talking about it. You knew you would eventually lose your hair but you thought you could handle it.
Everything was too much. You hadn't really felt sick until now. When you noticed your hair coming out in clumps it all became real. You were sick.
Spider found you in a fit of sobs. It broke his heart to see you like that. It also sent him into a panic. He didn't know what to do to make you feel better. He was your big brother, he was supposed to know everything.
"Norm gave me this." Sighing you pulled out hair clippers. "He said it might be easier to just go ahead and shave my head." Tears stung your eyes again. "I just don't know if I can."
Without thinking Spider took the clippers from you. "I'll go first." He declared.
Eyes widening in panic you tried to stop him. "Wait Spider! You don't have to do that." Before you could get another word out he turned them on and quickly swiped along the top of his head.
You and Neteyam stared at him with wide eyes. Dumbfounded you couldn't believe your brother just did that. He did it for you. You couldn't help the small smile that formed. Knowing that your brother loved you that much made your heart swell.
"Are you guys just gonna stare at me or are you gonna help me finish this up?" Spider asked with a smirk.
Once finished Spider was almost unrecognizable. "I can't believe you did that." You mumble as he helped you with your hair.
"It's not a big deal." He shrugged. "It was weighing me down anyways. I'll be faster now."
You rolled your eyes at your brother's odd logic. Neteyam was holding onto your hand watching Spider like a hawk. The idea of taking a blade to your head terrified him even though you assured him it was safe.
Gently you squeezed his hand. “I’m okay.” You assured him. He nodded bringing your hand up to his lips, tenderly kissing your knuckles. “I love you.” His whispered lips still pressed to your fingers.
Usually you stuck to the Na’vi terms of affection. It was what Neteyam was comfortable with. But after learning what the human phrase meant he had to use it. Because it was true. He loved you with every fiber of his being.
Tugging his hand to your lips you gave his knuckles a matching kiss. “I love you too. So so much.”
“Come on guys knock it off.” Spider complained pretending to be sick. As much as your constant shows of affection annoyed him he was glad you found someone who truly loved you.
The next day Neteyam came to visit you with his hands behind his back. You eyed him suspiciously, he was never good at keeping secrets from you.
“I made this for you last night.” He gently placed a bracelet in your lap. You gasped when you realized it was made of the beads he had originally given you for your hair.
“You said you couldn’t wear them anymore and now that’s not true.”
Carefully you put the bracelet on. Heart bursting at the sweet gesture tears began to spill from your eyes. Neteyam started to panic thinking be did something wrong.
“You are not happy with it?” He asked defeated. “You are crying.”
“Yes but they’re happy tears. I love it Neteyam. I love you.” You threw your arms around his neck. Smiling he pulled you closer into his chest.
“Oel ngati kameie.” He whispered into your neck.
“I see you Ma’Teyam.”
"I'm dying Neteyam." You said without any hesitation or emotion.
Neteyam immediately sat up looking to you slightly begging that he heard you wrong. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be.
"No one's told you because they're afraid of how you'll react. I don't want to keep anything from you. Love you too much to do that." Your eyes met his through your mask. He felt his heart breaking not only from your words but your eyes. They were faded, lacking the light he loved so much.
"They didn't want to tell me either." Your hoarse voice kept on. "But it's hard to pull a fast one over on me when I'm like this." Chuckling at yourself Neteyam caught a glimpse of you. The real you. Not this pitiful shell of who you once were.
"The treatment stopped working months ago. They told me last week."
Bringing your hand to his mouth he gently kissed your knuckles. "Please do not say such things." His voice cracked. Tears were now freely flowing from his eyes.
Deep down in his heart he knew he was losing you. He just didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. Acknowledging it made it feel real and there was no way this was real. It had to be a cruel nightmare.
"I'm tired Neteyam." You spoke quietly.
Unsure of what you meant he was ready to scoop you up and tuck you into bed. Somehow you had convinced him to go star gazing tonight. It had seemed like the perfect date night idea since you were always cooped up in your room. But now he kicked himself for allowing you to leave.
"Let's get you back then," he started shuffling."
"No Neteyam." You interrupted him stopping him in his tracks. "I'm tired of this." You gestured to yourself. "I'm tired of treatments that aren't working. Tired of being stuck in my room all day. Im tired of it all." You sighed.
"This isn't living Neteyam. It's waiting to die." Meeting his eyes your heart sank. He was finally registering your words. Neteyam looked at you like you had just pierced his heart with an arrow. "I'm tired of waiting."
You had been battling this for over a year now. It had taken its toll on you physically and emotionally. You didn’t know how much longer you could go on like this.
"What are you saying Y/N?" He asked trying his best to stay calm but miserably failing. His hands were shaking and his heart quickened.
"I asked Norm and Max about how I could speed it up."
Neteyam heard his heart shatter into a million pieces. You wanted to end your life. You wanted to leave him. You couldn't possibly want to leave him could you?
Tears were freely falling from his eyes. His body started to shake fighting off sobs.
"I'm not getting any better Neteyam." You gently placed your hand on his cheek wiping away his tears with your thumb.
This wasn't what you wanted but you saw no other way. Everyday was a struggle, even breathing hurt. You wanted Neteyam to see what you already accepted. This was a waiting game. You were never going to recover.
"No." He violently shook his head holding you to his chest. "No. You'll get better. We just need to try something else. Please." He begged.
"Ma'Teyam there's nothing left to try."
"Please. You can't leave me." His body shook with sobs. "I can't lose you Ma'Y/N."
You couldn't fight back your own tears. Your mask was fogging as you started to cry. Seeing your mate like this was as painful as your sickness.
"You're not gonna lose me love. Nothing is ever lost, remember?" You tried your best to comfort him.
"There has to be something we can try." He sobbed. "What about an avatar?"
You held his head in your chest while he cried. "They can't make anymore avatars. You know that."
"I can't do this without you. There has to be something." Neteyam wailed.
The sight broke your heart. You had exhausted all of your options. Everyone but Neteyam seemed to recognize it.
"I won't do anything without your blessing Ma'Teyam." You gently caressed his head. "But please try to understand my point of view."
"You cannot ask this of me. I can't." He shook his head.
Gently rocking you soothed the boy in your arms. He had a vice like grip on you as if you'd vanish into thin air. "It'll okay Ma'Teyam." You cooed.
You had informed Norm and Max of your plan. It broke their heart but they acknowledged that it was your decision. They would respect your wishes.
Norm found himself in your room in the middle of the night watching you sleep. It pained him to see your labored breaths. You were always so fill of light and now you looked like a hollow shell.
He'd known you your whole life. It broke his heart to know that your time was running out. It seemed like just yesterday you were a bubbly toddler getting into trouble in the lab.
You told Jake and Neytiri next. For some reason you were terrified of what your in laws would think of you. While this was something common amongst humans it was very rare to the Na'vi.
Jake was once human though. It hurt his heart to see that it came to this but he understood. While his disability wasn't terminal he knew the feeling of hopelessness. The feeling of being trapped inside what once was you. Your body becoming a prison. Jake knew better than anyone.
Neytiri didn't understand why you wished this until she saw you. She couldn't contain her gasp. No longer the child she has grown to care for, you were someone she didn’t recognize.
Smiling weakly at her Neytiri’s heart broke for you. She could see that you were dying but she couldn’t understand why. It was the great mother’s will that you would stay with Neteyam. Why would she allow you to die so soon?
Then it hit her. The words of her mother. You would spend the rest of your life beside Neteyam. Your life would end before his. Seeing you like this made her realize why you wanted this. You weren’t yourself, you were tapped inside a body that was failing you.
Spider was unusually quiet when you told him. “Spider please say something.” You pleaded.
He knew it was coming. He’d be a fool not to. But he was like everyone else who loved you, he didn’t want to believe it was happening. All of his earliest memories included you. You may have only been siblings because of circumstance but he loved you like you were blood.
You were undoubtedly his sister. Always there for him for as long as he could remember. Someone who always had his back. You understood the feeling of being abandoned here and the longing of wanting more. You were his person. And now you weren’t going to be here anymore.
Spider stood up and hugged you. He was slightly crying into your shoulder. You had never seen your big brother cry. He was your rock always strong and dependable.
“I’m sorry Spider.” You cried with him.
“Hey,” he pulled back to look at you. “Don’t ever be sorry. None of this is your fault.”
Nodding through your tears you took in the sight of him. His hair was growing back so fast leaving him with a nice short cut.
“You know I love you right?” He asked unsure for a moment. He had to make sure you knew. Spider wouldn’t be able to live with himself If you didn’t.
“Of course. I love you too bro.”
The two of you spent the rest of the day talking about everything and nothing all at once. It would be one of the last times you got to.
When it came to telling Neteyam he already knew. Your confirmation was like stones in his heart. But he knew. Deep down he always knew. You were never getting better.
Being cooped up in your room wasn't much of a life. You were in pain and it pained him to witness it. Neteyam never wished to part from you but this wasn't his choice to make.
He knew that had there been any other way you wouldn't had made the choice either.
You wanted one last day. One last good day.
Looking at your room one last time you shut the door. You had breakfast with Norm and Spider just like you always did growing up. Max even joined you.
No one talked about what was to come. You forbid any talk of the future only wanted to live in the here and now.
Spider helped you put on your mask and the two of you slowly made your way to the village. He helped you into the Sully home. You were terrified of everyone being somber, but to your delight everyone acted as normal.
You hadn’t laughed this much in months watching Spider reenact a story of one of the many times Lo’ak almost got himself killed.
Laughter, hugs, and smiles was how you spent your time with the Sully’s. It was perfect just like it always was. Neteyam kept you sat on his lap not wanting to lose contact for a second.
Taking a deep breath he inhaled your scent. It had changed when you got sick. It didn’t smell like you. It made him frown.
Insisting on going on an Ikran ride you drug Neteyam out of his family’s tent. Neytiri stopped you before you got too far. Embracing you one last time. “Thank you for watching over him my child.” Before you could say a word she kissed your forehead and left you with watery eyes.
Neteyam didn’t want to focus on sadness right now. You were still here that’s all that mattered. Taking your hand once again you were greeted with his Ikran.
“You sure you feel up to this?” He checked in.
“Hell yeah.” You smirked at him.
Flying through air was a feeling you’d never get used to. Up there you were truly free. Sticking your arms out to intensify the feeling Neteyam cursed at your sudden movement. His grip tightening around you.
“Let me know before you do something like that.” He scolded.
“You worry too much!” You yelled over the wind. “You’ve taken me on a million rides and haven’t dropped me yet.”
Neteyam smiled at you. Today you were glowing with a glimpse of yourself. Not the person who had been while sick. The real you. It made his heart clench. It pained him but he knew you were right. This was the right choice.
He would rather see you like this than just slowly waste away to nothing. I wanna go out with a bang. You had told him.
Eclipse crept up on the couple as you laid on the ground tangled up in each other. "I love you so much." You told him tears threatening to spill. He kissed your knuckles. "I love you to the moon and back." He whispered.
Smiling fondly at the memory from what felt like an entirety ago. "I can't believe you remember that." You laughed.
He chuckled. Neteyam had spent years committing every part of you to memory. He found your surprise amusing. Of course he’d remember. He remembered it all.
You stayed in his embrace until you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer. "I'm ready Neteyam." You breathed.
He nodded blinking back tears. "I see you Ma'Y/N." He gently caressed your face the best he could.
"I see you Ma'Teyam." You grabbed his hand. "Don't worry I'll see you again. Take your time my love."
"Anything for you my moon." He smiled.
As gently as he could he removed your mask. Taking a deep breath in you smiled as you inhaled the scents of the forest. It smelt even better than you imagined.
Neteyam laid next to you holding your hand looking up to the sky. You admired the stars before glancing over at Neteyam. He met your eyes and smiled. Your breathes were started to become labored. "It's okay love. You can rest now." He said fighting back a sob.
Your vision was turning black around the edges. Neteyam was talking to you but you couldn’t register what he was saying. Slowly your eyes closed. Your chest stopped. Just like that you were gone.
This was exactly how you asked. Neteyam fulfilled every last one of your wishes even if it killed him inside. Your whole life you wanted nothing more than to experience Pandora without any restrictions. And in that brief moment you did.
Neteyam held onto your lifeless body as he sobbed. He knew it was happening but nothing would prepare him for the feeling of you actually being gone.
His love. His mate. His best friend. His moon and stars. Gone forever. You were gone and there was nothing he could do to bring you back.
His body shook as he wailed. Neteyam realized that because you were human you were never connected to the spirit tree. He would never be able to see you again. He would never see you again.
Neteyam spent the whole night grieving you. He knew it was just the beginning of many sleepless nights crying for you.
In the morning he carried you back to home tree. Neteyam insisted that you have a traditional Na’vi burial. It didn’t take much convincing as everyone adored you.
His family helped prepare your body. He begged for help not thinking he was strong enough to do it on his own. Once everything was finished they gave him a moment alone. Spider looked up at him with red puffy eyes giving him a pat on the back.
Neteyam spent his last moment with you whispering sweet nothings that you would never hear. Confessions of love that wouldn’t reach your ears.
The last time Neteyam saw you, you were lowered into the ground. He tried to stay collected not wanting his people to see him weak. But this was unbearable.
After the funeral his grandmother approached him. Pulling him in for a rare hug she caressed his head Lovingly. “She is with Eywa now.” She told him.
He looked up at her in shock. You were a human. Neteyam didn’t think it was possible for a sky person to be with Eywa.
“She is?” He asked breathless.
Mo’at simply nodded before leaving him. Neteyam took a moment to process this revelation. A gentle breeze blew through his hair. Taking a deep breath he tried to ground himself.
A delicate tap on his shoulder caused him to open his eyes. A single atokirina' had landed on him. It gently swayed around him. He cupped the spirit his hands smiling, tears streaming down his cheeks.
You were still here. There is no death only change.
Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
Summary: After moving to Hawkins to take care of your ailing grandma, you end up spending a wild night with Corroded Coffin's lead singer, Eddie Munson. When you uncover his true intentions, you have no desire to ever see him again, but fate--and his son, Harris--has other plans.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering (f! receiving), oral (m!receiving), slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n
Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple
Divider credit to @saradika
Late August, 1996.
July had come and gone so quickly, and you could sense it in the muggy air as the daylight dwindled away on the horizon of an orange colored sky. Your heels click along the parking lot pavement as you make your way into the dingy bar. Everyone told you that your twenties would be full of surprises, but no one warned you that those twists and turns would land you in Hawkins, Indiana.
The neon sign reads The Hideout; well, really, it reads Th H deo t, and the “o” is starting to flicker. You’re not the only one who notices the building’s crumbling exterior.
“Huh,” Jess says, crossing her arms over her chest. “This place seemed a lot cooler when I was in high school.” Still, she pushes open the door, where you’re immediately hit with the stench of cigarettes and beer. The floor is sticky with what you can only hope is spilled liquor, and you take a seat on a rickety barstool.
“How did you even hear about this place?” you ask your new friend, tugging your dress so it covers a bit more of your thighs. You had one night out to yourself, and Jess was insistent on you making the most of it.
“Used to come here all the time when I was, like, sixteen?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re dirt cheap and they never card, so my friends and I used to get super wasted. Thought we were hot shit.” She flags down the bartender with a wave and a smile. “Anyway, you can’t live in Hawkins and not come to the Hideout at least once. It’s a tradition.”
The bartender, a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, leans on the counter. “What can I get you ladies?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from what sounds like decades of chain smoking.
You’re about to order a Bud Light, but Jess cuts you off. “We’ll each have a Hideout Special,” she says confidently. “Make hers a double.”
“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me? And what the hell is a Hideout Special?”
She waves off your concern. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’ll get you buzzed fast.”
You reluctantly agree, sipping on something that tastes vaguely like a mixture of rum and vodka, with the pungency of rubbing alcohol. “That’s awful,” you grimace, and Jess just laughs.
“Yeah, they’re pretty rough going down. But you only have one night to yourself, and you’re gonna make the most of it.” She links her arm through yours, using her free hand to tilt the drink back up to your lips. “Now, drink up. The band’s gonna start playing soon, and you’ll need all the liquor you can get. Trust me.”
Corroded Coffin, the band in question, is warming up in the back room. Tuesday nights has been their slot since high school, and if their lead singer and guitarist has his way, it’ll be their slot until they’re too old to play. He’s tuning his ax, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, only looking up when he hears a faint “oh, shit,” come from his bandmate.
“Y’good?” Eddie asks, strumming gently to play a perfect A-chord.
“Yeah,” Jeff says, holding up a small black box. “Forgot I had this in my pocket; almost dropped it when I took off my jacket.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s what you get for wearing leather in fuckin’ August, dude.” He squints at the object in Jeff’s hand. “What is that, anyway?”
“A ring,” Jeff proudly announces. “I’m gonna ask Viv to marry me.” The big, goofy grin on his face makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He looks at Gareth and Danny, expecting similar disgusted reactions from them, but they’re both smiling, too.
“Way to go, man!” Danny says, and Gareth claps Jeff on the back. “Our little Jeff is growing up.”
“Oh, fuck off, man,” Jeff says, but he’s laughing as he accepts the congratulations. He glances expectantly at Eddie, waiting for him to chime in.
“You two’ve been together for a million years,” Gareth jokes, twirling a drumstick in his free hand. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”
Jeff’s eyes dart around the room. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he starts, voice hushed, “but Viv’s pregnant!”
“Holy shit!” Danny sputters. “Dude, you’re gonna be a dad!”
“Yeah,” Jeff agrees incredulously. “Fuckin’ wild, isn’t it?” His gaze falls to Eddie. “Does the seasoned professional have any words of wisdom?”
An uncharacteristic silence fills the room. Eddie can feel their eyes burning a hole into his head. He knows what he should say, what Jeff wants to hear, but he can’t bring himself to feign happiness. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you knocked her up.” It comes out with a snarl, meaner than he’d intended.
“Crazy thought, but have you considered that I actually want to marry her?” Jeff shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not all content being miserable hermits like you are.”
“Whoa, break it up,” Gareth tries, stepping between the two guitarists, but the conversation’s already too heated.
“I’m not miserable, and I’m not a hermit,” Eddie counters. “I’m just not about to limit myself when there’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”
Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the well wishes.” Eddie can’t help but notice the flash of hurt in his eyes as he walks away. A small part of him feels bad, but he can’t shake the anxiety that unexpected change seems to bring.
“So, what does this mean for Corroded Coffin?” he asks. “Should we consider this our farewell show?” He tries to ignore the irritated glares he’s getting from Gareth and Danny. It’s like the words fall from his mouth before his brain can process the damage they can do.
“Obviously, once the baby comes, I’ll have to take a step back,” Jeff shrugs. “And I’m gonna try to work some overtime before it’s born. Save some extra money, y’know.”
The room had been zapped of joy, and Eddie feeds off of the sullen atmosphere. “Nice commitment to the band,” he sneers. “Glad to see how easily your priorities change.”
“Yeah, man, you should try it sometime,” Jeff snaps. His fists clench, and he looks angry enough to throw a punch. “Maybe you’ll stop acting like an overgrown teenager.”
Eddie’s about to fight back, jaw locked in place and eyes seeing red, but he’s temporarily grounded by the sound of the manager’s tired voice echoing from the ancient sound system.
“Put your hands together for Corroded Coffin!” A smattering of applause signals their cue to enter. Eddie tries to shake off the conflict; it can be resolved after they play. The show must go on, or whatever it was that his high school drama teacher always said.
A balding man with a gruff voice introduces the band as Corroded Coffin. Jess’s eyes go wide; she’s already a few Hideout Specials deep and definitely feeling it.
“Oh, shit!” she laughs with a hiccup. “That’s my sister’s boyfriend’s band!” She motions to the bartender to pour her another drink, but you shake your head and just mouth water. The bartender gives you a knowing nod, probably grateful that she won’t have to be the one dealing with Jess tonight.
“Yeah, that’s Jeff!” Jess continues, pointing at a tall guitarist with tight curls. “He’s the one who knocked up Viv!” She cackles like she just made the most hilarious joke. “I totally forgot they were playing tonight.” She frantically waves at him, and he gives a small head nod in acknowledgment.
Your eyes are drawn to someone else: the lanky, ring-clad man who takes center stage. He grips the mic with black polished nails, smirking out into the crowd as he yells, “Hawkins, how’re we doin’ tonight?” The loudest cheers come from Jess, and you join in, letting out an obnoxious “woooooo!” in response.
The noise draws his attention, and you watch as his smirk shifts to something needier, hungrier, even. His big brown eyes land on you and Jess, leaving you momentarily breathless. He’s absolutely gorgeous, light stubble on his cheeks and above his plush lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck that shows off a dusting of chest hair. His torn black jeans hang low on his hips, accentuated with a studded belt. A gleaming pair of silver handcuffs are clipped to one of the loops.
“All right!” he calls back. “Well, this first one goes out to the pretty girl in the blue dress at the bar. Wait for me after the show, Sweetheart.” He counts out to four, and they launch into a cover of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.
It doesn’t even register until Jess nudges you, more forcefully than necessary, and says, “Hey, you’re wearing a blue dress!”
“Who…who is he?” you ask, feeling a warmth spread through your core that you’re sure isn’t from the alcohol.
“That,” Jess says, leaning on you for balance, “is Eddie Munson. Total freak back in high school, but now he’s just got a reputation for being a freak in the sheets.” She throws you a clumsy wink and adds, “looks like you’ll get to find out for yourself tonight.”
“I’m not really a one-night stand kind of person,” you counter, internally cringing at the memories of your feeble attempts at hooking up, all of which inevitably ended with you pining after them pathetically.
Jess rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she whines, taking note of the way you and Eddie can’t seem to tear your gazes from each other. “Your dad leaves tomorrow, and then you’ll be spending your nights taking care of your grandma. You gotta live a little!”
Plopping back down onto the barstool, you consider her sentiment. It’s true; once your dad goes back home, you’ll be the one helping out in the evenings. And the new school year starts next week, leaving you with little time for yourself.
Your whole life has been spent helping others. You became a teacher to shape young minds and provide them with a safe place to learn and express themselves. You moved to a tiny town in the middle of Indiana to look after your grandma. Even now, you’re babysitting Jess and ensuring she doesn’t dehydrate instead of letting loose and ordering another drink.
“Fine, but only if he brings it up,” you concede. “I’m not gonna be the one to make the first move.”
The band moves on to their next song; it’s either an original or one you’re not familiar with, but you find yourself dancing to the beat. Jess joins you, writhing her body in some kind of drunken jig that has you cackling. You’re having such a great time that you don’t even notice Eddie tripping over a few chords as he watches you sway your hips back and forth.
Corroded Coffin plays for another forty minutes. You recognize some Metallica and Black Sabbath songs, headbanging along until you’re dizzy. The bartender slides you another drink—on the house, she insists—and you sip it eagerly, trying to quell your nerves. Eddie shouts out, “thank you, Hawkins!” and disappears backstage with the rest of the band.
You can’t ignore the dejected pain in your heart, but you muster up a smile and turn to Jess. “Ready to get out of here?”
She shakes her head, putting her palm on the bar to steady herself. “You still have to wait for Eddie,” she teases. “You promised.”
You cock your eyebrow in amusement. “First of all, Drunky McWasted, I didn’t promise anything,” you say, “and second, show’s over and, uh, he’s not here.” You swivel around for emphasis.
“Give him a fucking second, would ya?” The comment doesn’t come from your friend, and you turn around to see Eddie standing behind you. He’s got a towel around the back of his neck, mopping up the sweat from his performance. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and you can see the remnants of kohl eyeliner smudged around his lash line. “Had to clean myself up a little bit, damn.” He smiles, and you feel like you’re going to melt.
Jess interrupts, pushing you closer to him. “Eddie, this is my neighbor.” When you still don’t say anything, too awestruck to introduce yourself, she tells him your name.
Eddie nods, letting his fingers graze yours. “What’d you think of the set?” He grins at the bartender, who gives a small head bob and hands him a whiskey, neat.
“It was good,” you manage, finally finding your voice. “I especially liked the song you dedicated to the pretty girl in the blue dress.” There. You flirted. The rest is up to him.
“Yeah?” He rests his forearm on the bar and leans over to take his glass. “Was kinda hopin’ you would. Soon as I saw you, I knew I had to shoot my shot.” His eyes flit over the low-cut neckline of your dress before he drags his gaze back to your eyes. “You new to Hawkins?”
“Mhm,” you say, watching as he fumbles with a pack of Newports. “I moved here to take care of my grandma.” Good going. Nothing turns a guy on like talking about your elderly relatives.
But Eddie’s unfazed. “Hot and nice? A lethal combo, if I do say so myself.”
“What about you?” you blurt out. “I mean, have you always lived in Hawkins?”
He shrugs. “Been back and forth. Came here when I was nine, left when I was twenty-two, then came back about four years ago.”
“What brought you back? Missed all the excitement?” You laugh and he gives a small smile, but an emotion you can’t pinpoint crosses over his face.
“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie mutters, popping a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna go outside an’ have a smoke with me?”
“I’d love to,” you say with an apologetic tone, “but I really don’t wanna leave her alone.” You motion to your friend, who is currently trying to convince the bartender to let her have another drink. But as soon as she hears you using her as an excuse, she waves you off.
“Go,” she insists. “I’ll be fine. ‘M gonna have Jeff take me back home.” She stands on her tiptoes, nearly falling over, flailing both her arms wildly when she spots Jeff in the crowd and shouting, “Jeffy! Jeffy, can you drive me home so these two can have sex?”
You feel your face heat up at her words as Eddie shakes his head incredulously, lips twisting into a cocky grin. The last thing Jeff wants to do after Eddie’s earlier tantrum is help him get laid, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he doesn’t watch after his inebriated sister-in-law-to-be.
“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles, carefully looping his arm around her waist and helps her to his car. He appears to deliberately avoid making eye contact with Eddie, though you don’t know why. The two of them seemed to be getting along just fine on stage. The rest of the band leaves with them, carrying various instruments. No one even acknowledges Eddie’s presence.
“Uh, everything okay?” You can’t not pretend you didn’t notice; the tension is far too obvious.
Eddie brushes it off with another shrug. “Guys all got sticks up their asses, I dunno.” He pulls a black Bic lighter from his back pocket and motions towards the door, signaling your cue to walk out with him and drop the conversation.
Chirping crickets and a rowdy group of drunks shouting obscenities at each other punctuates the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Eddie looks at you expectantly, holding out his lighter, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to take out your own pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes that you do not have.
“Oh, I, um, I don’t smoke,” you stammer, biting your tongue in irritation towards your own awkwardness. “I mean, I’ll smoke, like, socially, but I don’t carry cigarettes on me. Sorry.”
“Wanna bum one?” You pluck one from the pack and lean in as he lights it for you. The crisp inhale of tobacco lingers in your lungs for a moment before you breathe out, grateful that you didn’t cough like a middle schooler stealing cigs from her mom’s stash. You take another drag, watching as he does the same. You’d thought that there would be some level of conversation, but Eddie seems perfectly content smoking in silence.
“So,” you finally say, “how long have you been playing guitar?”
He chuckles and pushes his hand through his hair, stopping where it’s gathered into a hair tie. The perspiration on his forehead is starting to dry, but his bangs still stick to it. “Shit, gotta be twenty years now. Damn, I’m fuckin’ old.”
“How old are you?” It comes out more accusing than inquisitive, and you sharply inhale more nicotine to shut yourself up.
“Turned thirty last month.”
“Oh, that’s not old,” you reassure him. “I’m twenty-eight, so…not far behind.”
He doesn’t say anything in response to this. Maybe you’d misread his intentions. Or maybe he’d lost interest after just a few moments alone with you. The pretty girl in the blue dress quickly becomes the lame girl in the blue dress, and you both return home unsatisfied.
You try again, this time saying something that warrants a response. “I just moved here last week, if you have any recommendations of places to go. Restaurants or something?”
Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s pretty boring around here.”
End of conversation.
“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, shifting your weight onto your other foot and stubbing out your cigarette in the nearby ashtray. There’s no sense in wasting anymore time, and the nighttime chill is biting at your bare legs.
“Wait, what?” Eddie practically does a double-take. “I thought…didn’t Viv’s sister say something about…”
Or maybe you’d read the situation correctly after all.
“You still want to?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his own cigarette, and the smirk returns to his face. “Your place or mine?”
Considering the fact that your place is currently housing an eighty-year-old woman with declining cognition, and your father, you quickly jump at the offer to go to his home.
You walk with him to his car, a beat-up blue sedan. He opens the passenger door, and you thank him with a tight smile, still not sure what to expect. Maybe he’s just not into small talk, but he seems awfully closed off for a man who’s trying to get laid.
A tangle of tree-shaped air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror; they sway slightly as the two of you plop in your seats. Instinctively, you look behind you as he turns the key in the ignition. Nestled into the far left side of the backseat is a carseat. Cheerio crumbs are wedged in the crevices, and an empty sippy cup leans up against it.
“Is that a carseat?” It’s a dumb question; of course it’s a carseat, but you can’t bring yourself to be more blunt and ask if he has a kid. I mean, the guy couldn’t even tell you a single restaurant to go to.
“Oh. Yeah.” Eddie reaches around, placing a ringed hand on the back of your headrest as he backs out of the spot. He doesn’t elaborate on the matter, just speeds out of the parking lot, so you don’t push it.
The words, I love kids; I’m actually a preschool teacher, linger on your lips, but you bite them back. This is supposed to be casual, a one-night stand; you’re not trying to be anyone’s stepmother.
Eddie flicks on the radio to a metal station–of course–and you sit back and try to enjoy the ride. You can faintly hear him humming along to the music. The fingers on his left hand drum on the steering wheel, while his right hand finds its way to your upper thigh. Fuck, it feels good. He gently squeezes, and the sensation of his cold metal rings combined with his hungry touch makes you involuntarily press your legs together.
“Just wait, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “There’s more where that came from.” It’s probably the most he’s said to you all night, and you consider it a small win. You lean in and gently nip at his earlobe, grinning as he shivers at the contact.
“There’s more where that came from,” you echo, shifting back in your seat. Eddie looks at you, brows raised and forehead creased in amusement, but��big surprise–says nothing. He pulls into an apartment complex parking lot, swinging into the nearest available spot, and kills the engine. Without the music or the steady hum of the ignition, you’re suddenly plunged into complete silence. Are you really doing this? Going to a stranger’s apartment to have sex with him? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? But Jess knows him–sort of–and vouched for him, so he can’t be all bad, right? Although, Ted Bundy had friends, too…
Eddie clearing his throat disrupts your inner monologue, and you glance up at him shyly. “Sorry,” you mutter, though you’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.
“No biggie,” he says, like he’s used to women just spacing out in his car before they fuck him. “Um, y’ready to go inside?”
You nod, opening your door and carefully stepping out onto the uneven pavement. You wobble a little in your high heels, but you feel a hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Lemme help you,” he mumbles, lacing his fingers through yours and guiding you to the front door of the building.
The two of you only make it to the stairwell between the first and second floors before he’s pouncing on you, your back against the cold concrete walls. His hands start on your waist, traveling upwards and lightly grazing your breasts before he’s cupping your face. His kisses are hungry, but not sloppy; when his tongue breaches your lips, you let him in without a second thought. He places his knee between your legs, just barely nudging it against your lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away from you and running his tongue over his teeth, “I need you, pretty girl.”
You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Can’t get naked until we’re in your apartment.” You pause before whispering in his ear, “and if you thought this dress looked good on me, wait till you see it on your floor.”
Eddie’s eyes widen. “‘S just another flight of stairs after this, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just takes your hand again and leads you to apartment 3C. There are a few Hot Wheels cars scattered on the ground, but he kicks them under the couch without further explanation. He sits down, adjusts his body on the soft beige cushion, and pats his lap. “Your throne,” he says cheekily, exposing tiny dimples on either side of his lips.
Wordlessly, you climb on top of him. Your dress bunches up as you straddle his waist, though that won’t be a problem much longer. You greedily grind your clothed pussy over the rough denim of his fly, sucking on his neck as his strong hands clasp the back of your thighs and pull you closer.
“Needy thing, hmm?” Eddie smirks, chuckling when you feign offense. “Where’re you going? ‘M just teasing you.” He sits up a bit, tugging one dress strap down and kissing the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “Maybe I read it wrong, but…y’look like a girl who likes to be teased,” he says, voice muffled by your skin.
“N-No, I do. Like it,” you stammer, fumbling with the frayed hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. You run your hands over the expanse of pale skin, admiring his tattoos. There’s one of a red guitar pick right above his left pec; without thinking, you kiss it gingerly. He lets out a quiet moan, unzipping your dress and helping you shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees you on display for him.
“Christ, baby,” he groans, “got the most perfect fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He kisses them and runs his thumbs over your pert nipples before briefly sucking on them. The nickname baby isn’t lost on you, but you try not to read into it.
Still, there’s a sense of satisfaction at the way he’s crumbling literally beneath you, though you can’t help but snarkily say, “bet you say that to all the girls you bring back here.”
Eddie throws his head back and laughs, sending vibrations through your core. “Only the ones with perfect tits.”
You hate yourself for wondering how many perfect-breasted women there have been.
“Bedroom?” It’s all you can manage, already breathless from dry humping like a goddamn teenager on prom night.
Eddie hesitates before shaking his head, a curl falling loose from the hair tie. “Let’s just, uh, stay out here. Room’s kinda a mess.” The unsure expression on his face hints at another reason, but he quickly distracts you by pushing your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger into your aching cunt. “Holy shit. S’fucking wet already. I knew you were needy.”
“Y-Yes. Need you. Need more.” You’re already stretched out by one finger, but you’re dying to know how a second one feels. The more of him inside you, the better. He obliges, fucking you with his pointer and middle fingers while his thumb makes tiny, hurried circles against your clit. “That’s it, right…right there. Don’t stop; please don’t stop!” He brings you to your orgasm, smirking as you finish all over his fingers.
Your rocking slows, and you reluctantly pull yourself off of him and sink to your knees. He’s unbuckling his belt as fast as he can, and you can’t help but notice the wet spot on his jeans right where you were grinding on his thigh.
Eddie’s pants and plaid boxers are around his ankles in a heartbeat. His hard cock rests against his stomach; a pearly bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip. “Let’s see what that cute little mouth can do, Sweetheart,” he muses, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head.
You bite your lower lip. “First I gotta clean you off, yeah?” you ask before licking the tip, tasting him. His length twitches at that minimal contact, which makes you giggle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” There’s no protesting, so you grasp the base of his shaft with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You suck on the head, circling it with your tongue, before taking as much of the rest of his cock as you can fit into your mouth.
“Mmm, baby, yes,” he growls, inhaling sharply when you gently tug on his balls. “Thas’ a good girl. Play with my fuckin’ balls, just like that.” He bucks up his hips, bringing his cock even further down your throat. “Gag on it, baby. Gag on my big fuckin’ cock.”
He’s not wrong; at least, it’s the biggest of any guy you’ve ever been with. Hollowing out your cheeks, you increase your pace, letting your nose brush against his patch of dark curls. Saliva drips down your chin; you swipe at it clumsily and keep your focus on him.
“Shitshitshitshitshit–FUCK!” Before you can even process what’s happening, Eddie pulls out of you. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his right hand, and he buries his face in his left. You reach for a tissue and hand it to him, and he angrily wipes off his spend.
“Gimme fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good to go,” he says, tossing the used tissue in a nearby wastebasket. He finds the remote tucked behind a couch cushion and clicks on the TV. An episode of Seinfeld comes on. “You’ll do,” he mutters, plopping down next to you and poorly stifling a yawn.
“Sleepy?” you tease, wrapping your naked chest in an itchy wool blanket and curling up. He doesn’t put his arm around you, or make any attempt to cuddle, so neither do you.
“Nah, ‘m fine.” But nearly five minutes later, while Jerry and Elaine argue about God-knows-what, you can hear Eddie softly snoring next to you.
“Eddie,” you whisper. No response, so you try a little louder. “Eddie!”
“I can, uh, I can go now. I’ll call a cab. Just need your address.” You start to get up and head for the phone hanging on the wall, but he puts an arm out to stop you.
“‘S’okay. Stay for a bit, baby.”
Stay for a bit, baby.
It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of him; his curt conversations and closed-off demeanor earlier in the night indicated that he was not looking for someone to sleep over. But now he’s asking you to stick around, resting his head on your shoulder and letting one tattooed arm drape over your waist. You let him stay there, trying your best not to wake him, but you’re forced to reach over him to grab the remote when an infomercial starts blaring.
“C’mere,” he mumbles, half-asleep as he lays down and scoots himself as far back as he can. You follow his lead, pressing your back against his bare chest. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you find yourself drifting off while wrapped in the warm embrace of this handsome stranger.
You’re startled awake by a loud, unfamiliar noise that doesn’t sound like your alarm clock.
Eddie jolts up, almost knocking you off the couch. “Shit, didn’t think you were still…” He turns towards the ringing sound, still confused. “What time is it?!” His eyes widen as he gets a look at the clock, which reads 7:19. “Shit, shit, shit! Son of a bitch!”
He practically flies off of the couch, sprinting to the phone and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Wayne? Yeah, I’m sorry…overslept. I can be there in ten…no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just…okay, okay, fine. See you soon.” He hangs up with a clank, turning back to you.
You’re just sitting on the sofa, still wearing nothing but your underwear and the blanket. “Everything…um, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but he lets out an overwhelmed sigh. “Let me help you find your dress.” He doesn’t say it aloud, but the real meaning behind his words seeps through: you should leave.
You nod, feeling the all-too recognizable lump in your throat. It happens any time these shared intimate moments come to an end; the realization of just how temporary you are in someone’s life is a punch to the stomach.
You find the bunched blue garment behind the couch and slide it over your head. The fabric feels stale and cold against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you. Eddie’s only wearing his boxers, and you catch yourself staring at the collection of tattoos that trail down his arms and torso.
“Like what you see?” He laughs when you duck your head, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks as he walks towards you. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Not after that little show you put on for me last night.” He leans down, tilting your chin up to him and kissing you softly. “Before you go, leave your number, yeah?”
That makes you roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Don’t ask for my number if you’re not gonna call,” you say. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “We don’t have to do the whole song-and-dance. We can just, y’know, leave this as a one-night stand.”
Eddie chuckles incredulously. “You wound me, Sweetheart,” he says. “‘Course I’m gonna call you. How could I not wanna see a girl as beautiful as you again? ‘Sides,” he adds slyly, “We didn’t even get to the best part.”
Begrudgingly, you write your number on a nearby notepad. The phrase don’t get my hopes up for nothing sits on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back.
You’re halfway down the stairwell when you remember that you never called a cab. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to clamber back up to the third floor and ask Eddie to use his phone–and get his address–so you continue down to the lobby payphone and dial Jess’s number.
“H-Hello?” a man’s sleepy voice picks up on the third ring.
“Uh, Jess?” It’s clearly not your neighbor, but you have no idea what else to ask. Did she find some skeezy guy to bring home from the Hideout last night?
“Nah, it’s Jeff. Who’s this?” When you say your name, he hums in acknowledgment. “Oh, yeah. From the bar, right?”
“Yeah…is Jess there?”
He yawns into the receiver. “Last I checked, she was asleep. Finally. She spent half of last night puking her guts up. Everything okay?”
“Mhm. I was just wondering if she could pick me up from…um, from Eddie’s.” You cringe at your admission; the last thing you want is for Eddie’s bandmates to think that you’re some kind of pathetic groupie.
But Jeff seems unfazed. “I’ll be right there.” Before you can protest, he hangs up.
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass-door reflection. Your hair is a mess, and there’s smudged makeup around your eyes and lips, like a billboard for the walk of shame.
Jeff pulls up a few minutes later, and you bashfully climb into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to let your humiliation show through.
“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as he pulls onto the main road, “it’s a special occasion.” When you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion, he laughs. “Ed never lets a girl stay over. Not sure what you did–don’t wanna know, to be honest–but you must’ve made quite the impression.”
“Didn’t mean to,” you say quietly. “We both fell asleep after…yeah. We only woke up when we did because some guy named Wayne called.”
Jeff nods knowingly. “That’s his uncle. He watches his son on Tuesdays when we have our gigs.”
Jeff must notice the stunned expression on your face, and his cheeks flush pink. “Shit, he didn’t tell you about Harris?”
“We didn’t do much talking,” you reply wryly. “I’ll have to ask him about that when he calls.”
“Christ,” Jeff shakes his head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s not gonna call. Never does. Calls it the ‘Cat-and-Mouse.’”
“The what?” Your throat goes bone-dry. You should’ve trusted your intuition, denied giving him your number, left it as a one-time thing.
“He brings a girl back to his place, has sex with her and asks for her number, but doesn’t call. When she shows up to the bar the next week, all insecure and wondering if he’s still interested, he acts like he’s been so busy, apologizes profusely, and strings her along until she catches on. Then it’s onto the next one.”
You feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Bile burns at the back of your esophagus, and you have to blink back tears. How could you be so stupid, so naive? Didn’t you know by now that guys like Eddie Munson are only after one thing?
The two of you sit in silence until he pulls up to your building. “Thanks,” you say finally, “for the ride and for the warning.” Jeff just nods, watching to make sure you get inside before driving off. As soon as he’s safely down the road, you burst into tears. Angry at Eddie, but mostly angry at yourself.
Eddie watches from his window as you get into a car–Jeff’s car–and leave. Great, he thinks, I’m sure I’ll get my ass handed to me at our next practice for fucking around with his sister-in-law’s friend. If we even still have a band, anyway.
Throwing on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an undershirt, he makes his way downstairs just as Wayne and Harris arrive. His son is leaping out of his carseat to get to him.
“Daddy!” Harris flashes a gigantic smile. His dark brown curls are a tangled mess atop his head. Eddie unbuckles him and wraps him in a giant hug. He’s losing the chubbiness of his baby fat, but he’s still sweet and cuddly.
“Har-Bear!” Eddie laughs. “Did you say goodbye to Grampa Wayne?” Harris encircles Eddie’s waist with his legs, reaching out his arms to give Wayne a hug through the window.
“Sorry again,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm.”
“Got a job yet? A real one?” Wayne asks stoically, ignoring his nephew’s apology.
A storm cloud washes over Eddie’s face. “I’ve told you a million times: nothing’s going to pay the bills as well as working for Rick.”
Wayne rolls his eyes. “Get a job,” he says pointedly, pressing a kiss to Harris’s cheek before lowering his voice and growling at Eddie, “and wipe the damn lipstick off your neck, for Chrissake.”
Jeff’s right: Eddie never calls. The home health aid that takes care of your grandma during the day informs you at the end of each shift that week that no one named Eddie called for you. And while you can’t say you’re shocked, it doesn’t do much to quell the hurt.
You spend as much time as you can preparing your classroom for the new school year. By the time you’re finished, the room is decorated to look like a jungle. Stuffed animals of lions, monkeys, and different birds line the shelf tops, which are packed with various books and art supplies. Your walls are decorated with different posters, all of which encourage kids to be their best.
The hustle and bustle of the first day of school helps keep your mind off of your personal life. With a thermos full of hot coffee, you happily introduce yourself to your teaching assistant, Will. He’s a sweet guy, a few years younger than you, and he’s practically bursting with games to teach the kids.
“Before I forget,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I picked up our roster from the office on my way in. Looks like we have ten kids this year.”
“You’re the best,” you tell him gratefully, and he starts putting tiny chairs around tiny tables.
Being new to town, you don’t expect to recognize any of the names on the list. There’s an Abigail Carver, a Joshua Harrington…
And a Harris Munson.
“No fucking way,” you muse, apparently a bit louder than you’d intended, because Will’s head snaps up and he swivels in your direction. “Sorry.”
The sounds of bubbly giggles and excited chatter filing into the hallway grab your attention. One by one, parents start dropping off their kids, kissing them goodbye. There are tears–some from students, some from parents–and you’re quick to reassure everyone that school will be so much fun.
You’re just grabbing the sign-in sheet for Mr. Carver to fill out when you feel a small thump against your legs. When you look down, you see a curly-haired boy staring up at you with wide, brown eyes.
“This is my classroom!” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to the number 3 on the door. “My name’s Harris. Like the guy from Iron Maiden!” He jumps up and down as he speaks. “Are you my teacher?”
“I am.” You smile and introduce yourself, peering towards the door. “Harris? Did a grown-up drop you off?” And please tell me his name is Wayne, you silently plead.
“Oh, yeah! My dad has my backpack!” He starts running back to the hallway, only to crash right into Eddie.
“Little dude, you can’t be running off like—” Eddie stops mid-sentence when his eyes land on you. “Oh, shit.”
You set your jaw, willing yourself to stay strong. He’s on your turf now.
“Mr. Munson, you need to watch your language,” you warn crossly.
“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, handing Harris’s backpack to him. “I packed him a snack, um, and a juice box.”
“Okay,” you nod, crouching down to Harris’s eye level and injecting enthusiasm into your voice. “Can you find your cubby? It’s the one with your name on it!”
The little boy bounds over to his assigned spot, hanging his bag on the hook before running over to play with blocks.
Forced to interact with Eddie, you press up on your knees and say, “Pick-up is at two.”
“Can I say goodbye to my kid before you kick me out? Jeez,” he grunts, calling out to Harris with his arms wide open. Harris hugs him, half-heartedly promising to be on his best behavior before starting to race back to the toys.
“We walk in the classroom,” you tell him sweetly. “That way, people don’t hurt each other!” You make a point to look over at Eddie when you say the last part, though his gaze is trained on the classroom posters. Harris, innocent and oblivious, walks hurriedly towards the group of kids playing with blocks.
“Didn’t know you were my kid’s teacher,” Eddie remarks, pressing his tongue into his cheek.
You shrug. “Maybe I would’ve told you if you called me.”
Shooting you the wide eyes that he passed down to his son, Eddie lets his lower lip jut out in a little pout. “I’m so sorry; life’s just been, like, crazy lately—”
“Exactly what Jeff said you’d pull,” you bite back. “Two PM, Mr. Munson.” You walk towards your students to begin circle time, leaving Eddie dumbfounded.
After a long day of wrangling ten four-year-olds, you’re ready to go home and take a nap. The kids are gathered around the table, molding Play-Doh and giggling amongst themselves. By 2:10, everyone’s been picked up. Except for Harris.
“Typical,” you mutter, kneeling next to the boy and smiling sweetly. “Whatcha making, Harris?”
He holds up a lump of the yellow clay. “A dinosaur, see? Roar!” You fake being scared, and he laughs. “Don’t worry; it’s just pretend!”
“Oh, phew!” You wipe imaginary sweat off of your brow. “I was afraid that he was gonna eat me!”
Harris reaches over to where one of the other students had been sitting and plucks a handful of blue Play-Doh off of the table. “Wanna play with me?” He’s looking at you adoringly, and you can’t possibly turn him down.
Just as you’re about to join him, Eddie runs into the room. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. Got, uh, caught up with something.”
Harris just shrugs, unaffected by his dad’s tardiness. “S’okay. Look!” He holds up the dinosaur proudly, giving another ferocious roar.
“That’s awesome! And super scary.” Eddie ruffles Harris’s curly hair before looking at you. “Can we talk for a sec? Out there?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway.
You huff out a sigh. “Fine,” you concede, and Will slips into the chair next to Harris.
Eddie closes the door behind him. “Listen,” he begins, twisting his rings around his fingers, ”about the other night…” He trails off, and for a split second, you think he might offer a genuine apology. “I just don’t want this to affect how you treat Harris.”
You bark out an incredulous laugh. “You really think I treat my students any differently based on whether or not I like their parents?” Crossing your arms, you turn back towards the door, throwing out a pointed, “I think it’s best if you leave now.”
Eddie’s voice draws you back into the conversation. “I’ve never had this problem before,” he snorts.
“Most girls love the thrill of the chase. The will-he, won’t-he. Haven’t struck out yet,” he retorts, a smug grin spreading on his face.
You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be the first. I don’t know what girls are into your pathetic games, but I’m certainly not one of them. So, please, just go before you say something else ridiculously stupid.”
Eddie bristles at that, standing a bit straighter and clenching his jaw. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, twisting the doorknob and punctuating his frustration with, “Frigid bitch.”
He’s just trying to get under your skin, and you refuse to let him get the best of you. You plaster on a well-practiced fake smile. “If you don’t think that this classroom is a good fit for Harris, you can request a transfer with the office.”
“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart,” he snaps, yanking the door open so aggressively that it smacks into the wall. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”
“Can’t come soon enough.”
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DPxDC:The GIW & JL Royally screw up
A good collection of the kids from Amity park are ecto-contaminated to the point of being almost halfas and most of them have powers because of it. The Weirdo trio + Val and Wes as well as the A Listers are the worst off.
The GIW carts several of them off for experiments.
The JL is called in because of several government buildings being blown up and reports for glowing beings attacking them. The JL finds a group of these beings in front of another one of the government buildings.
"Stop with these attacks. We are required to arrest you."
The group parted and let a pair of women through. One a tall one with green and red hair and violet eyes and one a small girl around 6 with white hair and cheeks full of constellations. Many of the other members bowed as they passed.
"And how will you do that?" The woman asked "Your government declared our species non-sentient how do you intend to arrest someone who's not a person?" The tall woman asked standing tall. Martian Manhunter was the one who floated closer
"I believe we don't have all the information in this case. Will you enlighten us?"
"They took my Daddy." The little girl responded "We aren't people so they took my Daddy and Mommy and Papa, and some of the others." Batman stepped forward
"Who did?" he asked as gently as he could. The little girl shivered and whispered
"The GIW" the other beings seemed to recoil from even the name. "They're a governmential organism?" She looked at the women
"Governmental organization, honey."
"Thank you Grandma Jazzy." A deep breath was heard from several JL members "They steal us sometimes and they took my Daddy this time." The older woman stepped forward.
"These attacks are only on the labs of the GIW where experimentation and extermination of our kind have taken place we are searching for the lab that is holding the rest of our family. We will continue until we find them or their remains. And let it be known if it is only their remains that are found than the Infinite Realms will be at war with Earth till my end and the end of my line. This I swear as Queen Mother Jasmine Phantom of the high throne of the Infinite Realms, Sister-Mother of his Majesty Daniel Janus Phantom Prince of the stars and the dead."
With that the girls retreated to their ranks and prepared their attack on the new target with the JL left questioning behind them
I guess that's love
Wednesday Addams x Reader
Summary: Wednesday sees herself stuck in the memory of one night; the night you almost died. She feels it's her fault, your blood on her hands says as much.
A/N: This is loosely based on Can't Pretend by Tom Odell and After Hours by The Weeknd which was suggested by the lovely @abelvrla. Also, I think it's valid to say that this story is mostly me having fun with some of my favorite tropes, so idk if this turned out kinda bad or similar to any of my other works; but I do hope you can enjoy it anyway. <3
Word count: 4,5k of feelings.
It's red. All she sees is red.
It stains the white porcelain of the sink before going down the drain.
Blood never bothered Wednesday, one could say she enjoyed the sight of it.
Now, she's almost rubbing her hands raw. It's a hurried motion, she brushes the soap over her palm with urgency, clawing at her own skin under the running water; yet it's still there.
She feels a little nauseated. Maybe it's because her breathing is all over the place. Sometimes too fast; sometimes not fast enough, clogged up in her throat.
She washes. And washes. And… keeps washing. The skin of her hands becomes reddish. The blood — your blood — eventually, finally fades.
But does it really? Wednesday feels the stain to be permanent.
Looking down at her hands — her vision a little blurry but she doesn't think about that — she catches herself shaking. Her chest is impossibly tight, it hurts to feel the beating of her own heart.
How'd you do it? How'd you get her to dread your death?
She's disoriented when she exits the bathroom, not registering immediately where she is. The white walls of the hospital hurt her eyes.
It's been such a long night.
Is it still night?
The tie around Wednesday's neck seems to be choking her. She reaches her hands up to loosen it, but the feeling doesn't go away. She discards the garment altogether.
That's when she notices the blood stains on the cuffs of her white shirt. She curses under her breath. She wants to throw up. Or change out of these ruined clothes, but it feels like a waste of time.
She looks up upon hearing the calls of her name, only to see Principal Weems regarding her with evident worry. She's a little paler than usual, the night definitely hasn't been kind to her either.
There are only a few doctors walking around, some of them give Wednesday a strange look as they pass her by. A pungent smell of disinfectant hangs in the air. The sky outside the window bleeds in soft shades of dark purple and orange — the sun is already rising to a new day.
"You need to get checked out too, follow me." Weems reaches out to Wednesday's shoulder, trying to guide her to an empty room.
Wednesday ignores it, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder. "Where is she?"
Weems avoids her eyes then, sighing exasperatedly because she knows arguing will lead her nowhere; "she's being treated, we'll be able to see her soon."
"I want to see her now," Wednesday states, before walking past Larissa without even knowing which door she should go to.
"She's in surgery, miss Addams," Weems insists, finality in her tone. "We'll only make things worse going there now."
It's funny, how you've always told Wednesday she should put herself out there more, not be afraid to feel or let people close. Yet now you only prove her right in her reasoning that emotions only exist to torture people. Not in a good way.
But she did it anyway, didn't she?
She allowed herself to feel things.
Wednesday is frozen to the pristine tiles, her nails almost piercing her skin as she clenches her fists.
"I'm worried too, but all we can do now is wait," Weems softens once she notices the shaking of Wednesday's body. She takes a careful step closer to the girl, "if you don't want to see a doctor come back to the school with me, take a shower, put some clean clothes on. I'll drive you back when we're allowed to see her."
The warm water soothed Wednesday's muscles, it washed away the dried blood from her hair and the dirt clinging to her skin. It was relieving.
She's now standing in front of the bathroom mirror and the reflection staring back at her is not one she easily recognizes. Her skin looks paler than usual — if that's even possible — there are dark circles around her eyes and even she has to admit she looks exhausted.
Wednesday reaches a hand to touch her abdomen, nimble fingers tracing the spot that should be ripped open but isn't. Not even a scar remains; no telltales that she had been stabbed just a few hours ago.
She shivers at the thought. Death's cold embrace is a little more taunting when seen up close.
For a fleeting second, Wednesday catches herself planning to go to your room — as she usually did most nights before she pushed you away. She would sit beside you on your bed, her shoulder would brush yours and she'd comment about how you could even sleep in a bed this small, yet she wouldn't pull away. She'd talk with you about how good it felt to drive a knife into the old pilgrim's heart. Maybe she'd even tell you she had been scared. Maybe you'd try to hold her hand and she'd let you, gripping you tighter than she should.
Your comfort was Wednesday's most prized secret. You were her favorite broken rule.
The salty taste of a tear on her lips brings Wednesday back to reality. The reality where she doesn't have a single scar on her body and you're in a hospital bed fighting to stay alive.
She dries her cheeks harshly, turning around to put on her sweater and dark pants.
It's 6 PM when Principal Weems brings her back to the hospital and Wednesday is finally allowed into your room.
There's a stillness to it that she hates. You are too still. Several tubes are attached to your body as you lay on the hospital bed, there are bandages around your torso, some of them faintly tainted red. The machine that tracks your heartbeat is beeping in a lazy rhythm.
Wednesday doesn't dare breathe as she walks closer, stopping right beside you so she can cast over each scrape on your skin.
There was too much blood loss, Weems had told her moments ago. Wednesday knew that, she was the one who kept what was left of your blood inside your body until the ridiculously slow help finally arrived.
Weems also told her the bullet was short of doing major damage, and that despite now being weak, you were lucky and should wake up within a few days.
It does absolutely nothing to set Wednesday's heart at ease.
You're too still.
She can barely see your chest moving with the soft breathing. Your features are so serene, so emotionless. She could say you're dead if she didn't know any better.
Wednesday doesn't move for several moments, it's almost as if she's afraid to. She holds herself stiff at your side, glaring at you as if you'd wake up only to hear her scolding.
She hates that this is the first time she's been this close to you, in what? Two or three weeks?
It feels unfair, unfitting. Like it's all wrong.
But she can't complain. It's her fault.
A vain attempt at keeping you safe. Maybe it only made things worse;
"You know, as far as dates go, this is pretty creative," you told her, dodging fallen logs and rocks as you walked amongst the woods.
Wednesday turned back to look at you with an unreadable expression, "no one said this was a date."
"What would you call it then?"
You groaned, falling into step beside Wednesday. Just so you could see the heavenly way the moonlight shaped her features. There was fog in the cold air, trees nothing but dark silhouettes around you; it suited her. "You're no fun."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," Wednesday felt your hand brushing hers. She hated how it made her focus waver. "Besides, you're the one who agreed to accompany me."
"Of course I did," you explained easily, "you asked me to."
Wednesday gulped, things felt more intimate than they should when the only witnesses around you are trees.
"Why was that?" You dared take hold of her hand then, your cold fingertips closing around her own. She stopped abruptly, and you observed the way her shoulders tensed. "You say you don't need anyone, yet here I am."
Wednesday's breath turned shallow, she didn't feel like looking at you. Because you were right, it was a break in her pattern; her rules.
How'd you do it? How'd you get her to break her rules?
You came to stand before her, your other hand taking hold of her free one so you could pull her closer. And she let you. Another step and any left space between you will vanish.
"Why won't you tell me?" You asked for what felt like the millionth time, but you didn't really hope for an answer.
You're familiar with her. She allows you close; you hold her hand, you touch her cheek, you braid her hair. Yet she never tells you why she allows you to do it.
Wednesday kept her eyes focused somewhere on your lips, counting the specks of color there, still as a corpse.
She saw the ghost of a smile that came to your lips before you leaned closer. And alarms were blaring inside her head, her lungs aching because of how she refused to breathe; yet she didn't move away.
You kissed her softly, gently. Your lips mapped hers in a way that felt like it always should've been.
And she melted against you, her hands clutching yous.
But as all things do, as Goody warned her time and time again; it didn't last. Shockwaves cursed through Wednesday's body and she was taken to another reality.
A reality where you were screaming her name in one second, and the next you were laying on the dirty ground, a pool of blood forming under you.
Wednesday jumped away from you the second she came back to herself, her eyes wide and breathing frantically as she strived to not pass out from what she'd just witnessed in her mind.
You were speaking, trying to reach out for her again as you asked what was wrong.
Wednesday felt her eyes sting, all she could see was your blood on her hands.
Her vision from that night came back in the form of nightmares for many nights after. Getting Wednesday to start dreading sleep.
She remembers warning you to never come near her again just before she sprinted away, leaving you alone in the woods with no further explanation. She avoided you, accepting the fact you might hate her, but it was okay because you'd be doing it alive.
All in vain, because her vision became a reality anyway.
"How could you be so stupid?" Wednesday tells you, but only the hospital walls hear it. "Jumping in front of me like that, it was ridiculous. Don't you see it? That's why you should've stayed away."
It's useless, you won't wake up to hear her complaints.
Wednesday exhales sharply and turns away from you, "it shouldn't have happened, I tried to-" There's a lump in her throat, it tangles her words, "but you're so stubborn… If you die before me, I'll kill you, I will-"
I don't know what I'll do. Wednesday thinks to herself. She sits on the chair that's beside your bed, watching through the window as the sun hides behind Jericho's mountains.
"You're missing your stupid sunset," Wednesday finds herself whispering. A last attempt at getting you to open your eyes, because for some reason, you liked to see the ending of sunny days.
Nothing happens. You remain still. The beeping tracking your heart rate is still slow. The room remains too quiet.
Wednesday leans back on her chair, she stays motionless for several minutes; until her hand eventually finds you.
Wednesday wraps her fingers around the pulse point on your wrist, not trusting the machine to tell her you're not dead yet.
She holds tightly onto you. There's no one around to witness it.
You didn't wake up for four days. And every day, without failure, Wednesday came to see you. She'd sit beside your bed and wait, sometimes silent, sometimes speaking as if you'd talk back to her.
It was her own way of keeping herself calm, busy.
Though the sleepless nights were starting to take a toll on her; sour mood and thinner patience being her new normal, along with the dark circles around her eyes.
Every time she closes her eyes, she's back there — warm blood on her hands and your life slipping from her grasp — so she refuses to do it.
Enid has seen her roommate nap hunched over her desk too many times to not get worried, but with being shut out every time she asked what she could do to help, she eventually stopped.
Wednesday could hate you for messing up her life.
The day you woke up, Wednesday was nowhere to be seen.
All of your friends came to see you, overwhelming you with love and tales about how each of them missed a part of you in their lives.
You felt sore all over, as if you'd been hit by a truck — getting shot then staying unconscious in bed for days will do that to someone, you figured.
Enid was the one who stayed to accompany you back to school when you were discharged from the hospital, along with Principal Weems, of course.
"It feels like I'm learning to walk all over again," you groaned, one hand coming up to clutch at your abdomen as you got to your feet.
"Take it slow, we've got time," Enid kindly held a hand out for you, which you promptly took.
There are a million questions swimming in your mind, losing these many days from your life feels strange. You halted but the world didn't.
You asked the one that you first thought of when you woke up; "Enid," you stop walking so you can look into her eyes, "how is Wednesday? Did she got hurt?"
A complicated array of emotions pass through Enid's features, too fast for you to put your finger on any of them. She looks at you with something akin to sympathy; "she's… fine." Enid chews on her bottom lip, pondering whether she should tell you or not. Naturally, she can't hold back, "she hasn't left your bedside once."
You must have looked rather surprised, because Enid keeps going; "it's true, there wasn't a day that she didn't come to see you."
You don't know how you should feel. You think it's unhealthy for your heart to be beating as fast as it is right now after what you've just been through, but you can't get it to slow down, not when such a bomb is dropped on you.
Almost a month ago, Wednesday told you to never come near her again. Today, Enid tells you she's been by your side this whole time.
"Why?" You ask.
Enid doesn't know the answer.
It feels like a fever dream. Your bullet wound, the hospital visits, the remains of the fight. Everything. It feels like it didn't happen.
Because when you got back to Nevermore, everything was back to how it was. The damage to the school was repaired, classes were steadily going back to being routine, and Wednesday hasn't looked in your mere direction once — she, being the epitome of healthy coping mechanisms and dealing with feelings, avoids you like the plague.
You asked Enid to tell Wednesday that your door was open if she ever wished to talk.
Several days have gone by already and she hasn't taken you up on your offer.
You walk out of the cafeteria with a heavy heart and twirling an apple in your hand. You miss her. You hate how your days still feel hollow without Wednesday's presence on them, it's weird because she's not the type of person who usually makes her presence known; but you miss the weight of her shoulder resting against yours, the familiar comfortable silence you'd share when only enjoying each other's existence while reading.
It's a grey day outside. You see her before you see anything else when you walk into the quad. She has her back to you, black braids haphazardly done falling over her shoulders as she sits with Enid on one of the tables.
The werewolf notices you and waves you over, an encouraging smile on her lips. You give her a look that shows your uncertainty, but she insists.
You take a deep breath and follow the stone path that leads to her table. There's a limp on your steps still, telltales of the fight; sometimes you feel the eyes of your peers lingering on you. You wonder what they're thinking about, what they see when they look at you. A brave hero or a stupid kid?
What do they see when they look at her? A lonely, unfortunate soul or the savior of the school?
You sit down beside Enid, consequently in front of Wednesday, your hands resting in your lap as your knee goes up and down anxiously.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" Enid greets you happily, as if there isn't a tension thick enough to cut through in the air.
The question almost goes over your head. You're focusing on the Addams girl in front of you, on the way her knuckles suddenly go white as she grips the lunch tray like her life depends on it.
"I'm alright," you answer, eyes fixed on Wednesday — she holds you in a trance.
"I've been meaning to ask if you have the notes from our last class?" Enid continues, in a kind effort to make things less complicated.
"I uh-" you start, but cut yourself off when Wednesday hastily gets up from her seat, not sparing you a glance as she turns around and walks away.
You watch her retreating figure, the ends of her skirt bouncing with her steps. With a groan, you begrudgingly take a bite from your apple, "there's no figuring her out, I'm done," you mumble over your mouthful.
Though you're not sure if you truly mean it.
"Don't say that," Enid pouts, keeping her eyes on Wednesday until she disappears through the doors that lead inside the school.
"She made it explicitly clear she wants nothing to do with me, Enid," you shrug, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips, "I think it's my fault anyway, so… I won't bother her anymore."
Enid turns, straddling the bench she's sitting on so she can fully face you; "what do you mean?"
You breathe in deeply, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach just thinking about it. "A few weeks before all that shit happened, we shared a- a moment."
Enid instantly smiles, her eyes twinkling with excitement, "you kissed?"
You chuckle timidly, smiling along with the memory, "yeah," but your gaze dropped to your hands right after. "I think it was a mistake."
"I doubt it," Enid tells you confidently then, as if she's in on a secret you're not.
You raise an eyebrow at her.
Enid glances between you and the door that Wednesday had disappeared into, tasting the words on her tongue before she spills them over for you. She breathes in, and relents; "after you passed out…" she gulps, dreadful memory still fresh, "right after you got shot, from the blood loss. Wednesday, she- I never saw her so desperate."
Only from the emotions swimming in Enid's eyes, you could tell she was being honest. You couldn't help the tightness in your chest upon imagining Wednesday going through that.
"It was almost as if she knew you wouldn't make it, that you wouldn't survive," Enid keeps going, "or at least that's what she believed in."
Clarity shoots through you like a bullet as your eyes widened with the words. Ironic much, but that was the feeling.
Because there was a possibility, that Wednesday saw your misfortune before it even happened. Right when you kissed her, no less.
And if that was the case, you couldn't imagine the torment she's been under ever since.
The night is calm, you can see clouds shaping the moon as you walk the path outside that leads to Ophelia Hall. It's a little late, just past curfew but you prefer it that way — fewer people around, the hallways will be empty.
It's a struggle for you to walk up the stairs, you have to stop once to catch your breath and allow the nagging pain that shoots up your leg to subside. Details. Tonight feels important, because you're going to see her; you'll make sure of it, even if she insists otherwise.
You stop in front of the dark wooden door. If you strain your ears, you can hear the faint noise of her typewriter. Enid isn't there, you know she's at Yoko's room tonight — her idea, not yours. Privacy is important, she told you, right after all but commanding you to do what you're doing.
With a deep breath in and feeling more nervous than you thought you would, you raise your fist, and knock.
The typing noise stops, you hear her chair scratching the floor. You couldn't breathe even if you tried.
The door pulls open and your heart melts a little at the sight; Wednesday stands in front of you with a hoodie and sweatpants on, and her hair free of braids, clearly not expecting anyone to show up at this hour.
You're snapped out of your trance when you register the door closing again. You quickly hold it open with your hand; "hear me out, please."
"No," Wednesday huffs, "I told you to stay away."
"Yeah, and not much else," you push through, squeezing your way inside her room and closing the door behind you. Wednesday takes a big step back as if you'd burn her. It hurts. "Could've given me a reason."
With a deep breath in, Wednesday sets her jaw tight, "I don't owe you anything."
You avoid her eyes then, "maybe not, but I thought we had-"
"We didn't," Wednesday tells you, the shake of her voice makes you look up, and you think you see her eyes glistening, "we don't."
You nod slowly, and despite the bleeding of your heart, you speak softly; "did you see it?" You chew on the inside of your cheek, fumbling with your hands so they don't tremble, "that night, you had a vision didn't you? About what happened to me?"
There's a sudden stillness to the room that feels awfully familiar to Wednesday. She hates the way she can't seem to control her breathing pattern, she hates that the image of you in front of her is becoming blurry.
"Is that why you've been avoiding me? Because I got hurt?"
Your words urge Wednesday's mind to travel back to that night. She closes her eyes tightly, causing a tear to roll down her cheek and part of her wants to kick you out of the room for making that happen.
"You're a liability," she tells you the first thing her mind conjures up.
You chuckle humourlessly, "ouch, considering I saved your life that's-"
"Exactly the problem." Wednesday interrupts urgently, "are you stupid? If you insist on staying close to me you'll only hurt yourself." Her voice breaks at the end of the sentence, as if it caused her physical pain to speak.
You've never heard her this vulnerable, this scared. Your heart bleeds but for a different reason; for the affection you hold for her, for not being able to protect her from what happened. You take a step further towards her and breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn't take one away from you. "And what if staying away hurts me just as much? What then?"
It's quiet. Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. All you see are her cheeks slowly being stained with tear tracks as they roll all the way down to her chin and drip to the floor, her eyebrows scrunching in hurt. But she's so quiet.
You take one more step. "Tell me why."
A beat of silence, and then; "you made me… care about you and then you go and almost die." Wednesday chokes out angrily.
You smile sadly, finally hearing the words you've been chasing; though you'd prefer them in better circumstances, "caring about people can be… scary."
You don't think she registered that you were so close. Wednesday flinches when your hand touches hers, it's a ghost of a touch, barely there, yet it feels almost like an embrace.
"But I promise you, I'm not going anywhere," you say quietly, tears pooling at the bottom lid of your eyes as you carefully hold her hand properly.
Wednesday is frozen in place, it feels like someone reached past her ribs and is squeezing the organ that pumps her blood. She hates that she must look like a mess, yet this is the first time in weeks that she feels she can actually breathe. Part of her has been stuck on that night — hands stained with your blood as the paramedics take you away from her — until now.
Her fingers tentatively close around yours, her lips part and she struggles a little to get the words out, "it's not a promise you can keep."
"I can try," you whisper. You see it clearly in her eyes; the guilt she's been carrying. "What happened that night, it wasn't your fault, you have to know that, Wednesday."
"It was because of me," she reasons just as quietly, "and almost took you from me."
Goosebumps raise on your skin at her words. Your thumb gently traces her hand. It's private, it's delicate, it's a moment that belongs to you two only. "It'll take more than a bullet for you to get rid of me," you tease with a tearful grin.
Slowly, you bring her hand up so it rests over your chest; her palm flush with your skin as your heart beats rhythmically right underneath it. "I'm right here," you breathe.
It's all it takes for her to, finally, surrender. Wednesday stumbles forward, and you're there to catch her. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands clutch at the fabric of your shirt to the point of ripping. You encircle your own arms around her waist, pressing her tightly to you.
Wednesday is still mostly quiet, the only thing you can hear if you focus hard enough is the occasional hitch of her breath. But you feel the way her tears soak your shirt, the way her body trembles as she gives her all to contain her sobs.
"There was… so much blood," is all she tells you, words muffled against your skin.
"I know," you slide one of your hands up to her head, entangling your fingers through her hair, "I'm so sorry it had to be you." You plant several kisses on her temple and on her hair, each one is a different promise.
I won't leave.
My blood will never be in your hands again.
You think she understands, because you feel her own lips brushing the skin of your shoulder; cold, damp with tears. Tender.
I love you.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3
Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany
Part 1 Part 3
The F-slur is mentioned here but only mentioned, not used to attack or demean.
“I don’t have a wife. I have… I have a husband.”
Future-Eddie slapped him on the shoulder. “Hell yeah you do.”
“They legalise it? They-” Robin looked over at her future self, her eyes glossy. “W- they can get married?”
“Yeah.” Future-Robin squeezed Steve and Robin closer. “Yeah. They can get married. Just in a couple of places to start but then country-wide.”
Nancy nodded along as though this was all tactical information useful for defeating Vecna. “Is anyone else going to come through?”
Future-Eddie shrugged. “Not sure. I think Robin and I were zapped here because our past and future selves were in the same geographical location when there was a pulse. So, sorry to say, Nance, but you’re definitely not about to pop in.”
“Why? Where am I?”
“Still on a plane back from Alaska last I heard.”
“What on earth was I doing in Alaska?”
“Spy shit.” The two time travellers said in unison.
Nancy uncharacteristically stumbled in surprise. “Spy shit? Seriously?”
“Well, personally I believe you’re an international 007, Agent Wheeler, but most of the rest think it’s just plain old boring investigative journalism.” His future counterpart clearly hadn’t lost any theatricality with time.
In fact it seemed to have gotten worse as he waved his arms around. “You’re like, the top dog at it, dude. Literally so good at it that barely anyone knows your name which you definitely use to your advantage. You’re super cagey on details.
“But this time around, you were in Korea when shit hit the fan. Again, don’t know what you were doing there but I did hear Pyongyang mentioned once so you were only a jump away from Kamchatka when Ellie felt a disturbance in the force so you volunteered to go see if it was the Ruskies again, but no dice. Completely filled in with concrete. We have no idea how you got there so quickly but my money is on spy shit.”
Nancy stared at him open-mouthed as he spoke.
“So… So I do it? I make it? I succeed?”
“More than succeed.”
“And,” Nancy bit her lip, like she didn’t really want to ask the question but she was burning to know nonetheless. “The whole… marriage and kids thing?”
Future-Eddie glanced toward Steve, occupied by Future-Robin who was trying to distract him from the conversation and Eddie’s heart sank.
“Nance, don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t think you ever wanted that. I think you were told to want that, as a woman, but it was never you. You don’t have any kids, you’re not married and I don’t think you ever want to be.”
Nancy looked almost relieved at the information and Eddie was so confused.
He still had a thousand questions firing around his head so he decided to latch onto something mentioned earlier.
Future-Eddie smiled softly. “She’s my youngest.”
Eddie choked on thin air. “Kid?!”
“Your youngest kid is my age?”
“God, dude. Don’t remind me. You’ll make me feel so old.”
“You are old.”
His future self shoved his arm. “Watch it, whippersnapper.”
“Who’re your other kids?”
“Here, let me show you.” He pulled a slab of something out of his pocket before shaking his head and pulling his wallet out instead. “I think a phone would be a bit too much, so we’ll do the wallet.”
Eddie blinked. “Right.” Like he knew whatever the fuck the guy was on about.
Future-Eddie pulled some photos loose and in the pile Eddie caught sight of a hairy muscular thigh and a torso littered in old scars stretched obscenely out on a bed and dressed in black lace before the photo was swiftly snatched out of sight and Future-Eddie stuffed it down his pants.
“Woah, whoops! You don’t need to be seeing that!”
“Eddie!” Future-Robin called, staring at him wide eyed. “Oh my god, you keep that photo in your wallet?!”
“It was an anniversary gift!”
“He’s going to rip you a new asshole once he finds out.”
“God.” Future-Eddie breathed. “I hope so.”
Eddie knew his face must be lobster red. From what he had just seen of his future husband, he was hot, metal as shit with those scars and willing to do things like… that?! He’d hit the damn jackpot.
If only he’d seen his face.
“Moving on!” Future-Eddie called brightly. “My girls.” He held out a photo of three teenagers backstage at some kind of concert. It looked like they were laughing at something that had just happened behind the camera, their backs to the stage. They all looked wildly different from each other.
“They’re older now, obviously, but this photo… It’s my favourite. Rhea, Penny and Cassie." He pointed at each of them respectively
The girl on the left looked to be the oldest, blonde and short with glasses, dressed in oversized flannels and baggy ripped jeans. Her mouth was wide open in what must have been a cackle, nearly bent double with one hand on her sister's shoulder, keeping her balance.
The girl in the middle was taller, her hair was dyed a dark purple colour with two piercings over her black painted lips, dressed in flowing black lace. She had both hands up as if she’d just been hiding behind them, her eyes wide and incredulous, seeming to only really let out a giggle.
The third was a similar height to the girl in the middle, black haired and freckled, dressed in bright pastel colours with a cast on her arm. She was half hiding her face behind her hair, turned towards her sisters but her smile was so wide her eyes all but disappeared.
They all looked so happy together.
He only ever had Wayne and now… well, in the future he has a husband and three daughters (holyshitholyshitholyshit), he’d built a family.
“Pretty unbelievable, right?” Future-Eddie smiled across at him, warm and content.
“Just wait ‘till you find out what he does for work!” Future-Robin shouted at him from up ahead.
Work? Eddie had never had a job before and everything in his future seemed so perfect, maybe this was the downer. God he hoped it wasn’t some corporate bullshit.
“What do you do for work?”
Future-Eddie blushed which was very fucking odd and scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m retired.” He shrugged.
“Eddie. You’re not going to tell him?”
“How can I tell him? Look at him! He’s having the worst week of his life! He’s being hunted by a town full of evangelical nutjobs, you think he’ll believe me if I tell him I have two Grammys and a Tony?!”
“Okay, pause.” Eddie put his hand to his future self’s chest, stopping them both. “I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.”
Because no fuckin’ way, man.
Not a chance it meant what he thought it meant.
Not some little rat goblin from rural Indiana.
Future-Eddie nodded. “Two Grammys and a Tony.”
Eddie wrinkled his nose before scoffing. “Why a Tony?”
“It’s called branching out, dude. Don’t gatekeep, it’s not a good look.”
Future-Robin grimaced from up ahead. “Sorry, he’s sensitive.”
“Yes, I’m sensitive, Rob! Lloyd Webber can suck my dick!” He grumbled and muttered in a way that was clearly supposed to be an imitation, “Not built for writing a broadway musical my asshole.”
“You’re… we’re like, famous?”
Future-Eddie shrugged. “Yeah. Kinda.”
“With two Grammys.”
“We would have more if we didn’t get banned.” He muttered again, clearly not supposed to be overheard.
Eddie just stared. “Dude! How the hell do you get banned from the Grammys?”
Future-Robin faltered in her steps ahead, stuttering in the middle of her answer to Robin about her work as a translator in Geneva.
His future self started to walk again, trying to brush him off. “Uh… You know what? It’s a long story, I don’t think we should-”
Eddie caught up. “No, no. This is my potential future right? I should know, maybe I can avoid it?”
Future-Eddie raised his hand to his jaw again, almost unconsciously, like those words hit him on multiple levels.
“Some things can’t be avoided, I don’t think.” He sighed heavily. “Alright. I got outed. Publicly. It wasn’t pretty. And it wasn’t just me, my husband got outed too. We called a blackmailer's bluff and they followed through.”
Eddie shook his head, disbelieving. “They banned you because you got outed?”
“No… not exactly. Okay, listen. I was in a really dark place at the time and I was so, so angry and you know what we’re like when we’re angry. It was incredibly controversial at the time and still is, kinda. Like a black stain on the band's past but I wouldn’t take it back if I could, you understand me?
“When I wrote it I was feeling super toxic and bitter and I’m not excusing it because it was so personal but the younger generation have picked it up again and they’re seeing it like it was meant to be seen. Like it’s about having to hide and live in fear all the time and how stressful and unfair it is and-”
Eddie sped up his steps just a little so he could look at his future self. “What did you do?”
“I…” Future-Eddie twisted at his wedding band. “I released a song called ‘Faggot’ and it’s exactly as painful as you think.”
Eddie sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Listen, I don’t really know how this whole divergent paths thing will work, how much of my life you will or won’t experience after this. But everything I went through, everything, made me who I am today. It’s going to be really hard and it really fucking sucks sometimes. But it got me my girls. It got me my husband. I wouldn’t give it up for anything, you understand me?”
He looked back down at the ground, contemplating. Even though he’d just heard of some truly awful shit that might happen to him at some point, he couldn’t help agreeing with his future self. He had the girls. They seemed happy. He had a husband and he seemed truly content with him, even if Steve’s shadow was still overhanging. But he didn’t really know that for sure. He wanted to know about who he was married to, even if he didn’t want to know who.
“Tell me about him?”
Future-Eddie’s face split into a wide grin. “I thought you’d never ask. He’s the biggest fucking dork I know. The sweetest guy in the world, kindergarten teacher, little league coach… he sees everything. Self sacrificial streak a mile wide, giving me grey hairs.” He laughed.
“Sounds like a normie.”
“The normiest. It’s adorable.”
“Eddie!” Future-Robin called, waving him over from up ahead. “I need you, c’mere.”
“That’s sweet, baby. But it would never work between us.”
She rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ, do you have an off switch?”
Future-Eddie’s grin turned feral. “I-”
“No!” She held up her hand. “Stop. Just come here, fucking hell.”
Eddie watched his own future counterpart practically skip over to the others, throwing his arms around both Robins and Nancy while his mind spun like a record without the needle down.
Fuckin’ time travel, man. What were the odds? But what were the odds of an alternate dimension and demon bats and demon dogs and just general demon fuckery?
And he was fucking married? What the shit. Like he’d pretty much resigned himself to short term secret shameful relationships or quick encounters in whatever club bathroom he ended up at in the city.
Some kind of life of settling down, with kids no less, was not something he’d ever dare believe…
Eddie looked over. Steve was walking beside him, staying remarkably steady despite his wounds.
He smiled at him but it was a little strained at the edges. “You have a husband.”
“I have a husband.”
And it was only really then that it hit him. Those words. Those words felt so… fantastic to say.
It wasn’t just the fact that he’d come out.
It was the fact that the words ‘I have a husband.’ meant that he had a husband. Someone who loved him unconditionally. Someone who stuck with his eccentricities and his trash panda tendencies. His parents were a terrible example for marriage and he knew, he knew that he would never allow himself to end up that way.
So this had to be it.
This had to be real.
“I don’t think I’d mind a husband.”
Eddie stopped dead.
Steve turned to look at him, a small smirk on his face. He strode two steps in front, continuing to walk backwards, keeping pace before placing a finger under Eddie’s chin and pushing his jaw back up. He hadn’t even realised it was hanging open.
“But… but you’re…”
"Yeah, I'm attracted to girls, I can hide if I want to and have an easy life. But boys are an option for me too. Don’t tell me you think I should play it safe because society tells me to. I thought you’d be better than that.” Steve slowed to keep pace with him again, knocking him with his shoulder and the barest hint of that smug smile on his face.
“Wh- I- I am. I am better than that. I’m sorry I just didn’t expect- you don’t-”
“I don’t look queer? Or act queer?”
“No! No, I didn’t mean…”
But he did mean that. He had thought that. And his shit had now been completely rocked because of it.
His jaw had fallen open again, he just realised. He snapped it closed and his mouth felt so fucking dry. “I think you’d make a good husband.”
“Are you asking?” Steve quirked an eyebrow at him and flashed his teeth with a grin.
Jesus H. Christ he was so pretty.
Fucking hell. Was this what it was like to be on the end of the Harrington charm? God, he was in so much trouble now.
And Steve was still grinning at him, like a cocky little bastard. “I don’t think anyone would want me as a husband anyway.”
“I’m sorry, I’m lost. Who the fuck would ever pass you up for a husband?”
Steve shrugged, a little more subdued than he was before. Eddie only barely caught the glance in Nancy’s direction.
“No, I mean I get it. I have a lot of baggage and I feel like these bites aren’t going to just smoothe over. What happens then? What’s my spouse gonna do with me once I don’t have my looks anymore, you know?”
“Fuck your looks man, that’s not why people get married. That’s not why I’d get married.”
“It’s why my parents got married.”
“And you wanna have a marriage like theirs?”
“No! God, no. Never.”
“Exactly. So why do you think you’d allow yourself to get tied down to someone who only cares what you look like?”
“Maybe that’s the only reason they’d have me.” Steve grinned as if what he was saying was just fact. “Like I said, I’ve got baggage.”
Eddie shook his head. “We’ve all got baggage, man. I’m not trying to like, invalidate yours or whatever, but everyone has their shit. Yeah your shit is fucking intense, I mean look around, but that won’t matter to the right person. They might have their own. Might not be alternate dimension time travel shit but could be something similar. Maybe you’ll marry a veteran or a refugee. Or maybe you’ll marry someone who’s never experienced anything worse than a paper cut and when they stub their toe they only say ‘oh dear’. Relationships… marriage is a partnership, their baggage, your baggage, it’s there to be shared. It wouldn’t matter to me. I’ll take on my husbands shit and I’ll marry a man who’ll take on mine too. I know I will. I’m sure of it.”
Steve was staring at him like he had six heads.
After he’d just spilled himself out of his mouth and everything.
But he wasn’t gonna back down.
It’s what he believed in his heart of hearts.
“I just-” Steve started. “I’ve never heard anyone describe it like that.”
“Like what?” To him, it just seemed like common sense.
“Like a partnership. You know like people always say relationships are commitment and dedication and selflessness.”
“Well yeah, they are but it has to go both ways. You can’t have one side putting in all that effort.”
“Partnership.” Steve muttered quietly, considering. “It has to be equal, right?”
“Yeah, now you’re getting it. It has to be equal.”
Steve’s smile was softer now, to go right along with his eyes. “You’re gonna make someone a really good husband one day, Eddie.”
Fuck, wasn’t that just a cupids arrow straight to the heart. And now Steve was looking at him all tender and it was driving him insane.
“You gotta at least cook me a nice dinner first before asking for my hand, there, Stevie.”
Steve shrugged. “Okay. What do you like?”
“Wha- I… What do I like?”
“What do you like to eat?”
His mind was blank. He should really be able to improv his way out of this but his head was completely empty.
“Italian, I guess?”
Steve’s grin almost turned conspiratorial. He reached up and lightly tugged at one of Eddie’s curls. “Fuck, you’re perfect, aren’t you?”
“I’m on the run from the law at the moment, sweetheart.”
“Not for much longer if I have anything to say about it.”
They were interrupted by raised voices ahead of them. There was a brief moment of panic before he and Steve realised it was just the two time travellers bickering loudly as the trees started to thin and houses began to come into view.
“Well, why can’t we remember any of this then?” Future-Robin asked.
“Because it hasn’t happened to us in our past. It’s happening to us in our present. And their present. How can we remember something that hasn’t happened yet? Because it’s happening now. To four different people. Their timeline has already diverged from ours just by us turning up. This isn't our story anymore, it's theirs.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Future-Eddie waved his hand at her. “Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey.”
Future-Robin reached out and swatted him over the head. “You’re such a dork!”
“Hey!” He shoved her. “I only got into sci-fi because of you. Before you I was blissfully existing in a fantasy only realm.”
“Yeah.” She shoved him back. “You’re fucking welcome.”
They kept pushing and prodding at each other before it descended into chaos, devolving into some kind of childish slap war until eventually she had him in a headlock.
“Aaagh, Stevie! Help me!”
Steve just blinked at the two of them, probably trying to figure out how he was supposed to corral two adults who were nearly triple his age.
“So in the future, you and Robin seem to have some kind of… friendship?”
“Friendship?” Future-Eddie squawked. “No friendship here. She’s my soulmate by proxy. My sworn fuckin’ enemy.” From his bent over position he managed to grab her behind the knees and haul her over his shoulder.
“Buckley, my tabletop wife, you know I’m a bard.”
“Would you two shut the fuck up?!” Nancy hissed. “You’re gonna get us eaten.”
Future-Robin was let back onto her feet, quietly.
It was objectively hilarious, watching two grown adults who could technically be their grandparents mutter their apologies as if they’d just been chastised by the school principal.
It was even funnier watching them punch each other in the arm as soon as Nancy’s back was turned.
“We’re here.” Nancy said, staring out at the houses. “C’mon.” Without a backwards glance, she took off running.
“Nan-!” Robin lowered her volume as they all chased after her. “Nancy!”
By the time Eddie and Steve had followed them through the front door, the rest of them were disappearing upstairs.
“Why didn’t you tell us this earlier?” Nancy was asking, holding what looked like a diary.
“Would you have believed us? You need to see evidence for yourself, you know that.” His future counterpart answered.
“What did I miss?” Eddie wheezed, placing his hands on his knees.
Fuck, he needed to give up smoking.
“It’s 1983.” Robin answered, patting his back.
“Is this more time-travel fuckery?”
Future Eddie and Robin spoke at the same time.
“The Upside-Down is stuck in 1983. The day Will Byers went missing.” Nancy clarified.
“Right. Okay. 1983. Cool.” Eddie gave a thumbs up, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He glanced around. “Hey, where’s-”
He was abruptly cut off as the entire house around them shook, sending him tumbling back into the hallway. The sounds of photo frames and Nancy’s knick knacks crashing to the ground surrounded him but underneath it all his blood ran cold when he heard a pained shout from downstairs.
“Steve?!” He called out, panicked, trying to get to his feet but being defeated by his own severe lack of athleticism and the incessant shaking of the very earth beneath him.
He crawled towards the stairs, thankful that the shaking had stopped by the time he reached the first step.
He flew down them, nearly landing square on his ass again before catching sight of Steve, leaning heavily up against the wall and clutching his sides.
“Steve! Are you okay?” There were red patches starting to bloom under the makeshift bandages around his waist and he hissed in pain, as Eddie took hold of his arms, pressing his forehead into Eddie’s shoulder.
“I just… I just need a minute.”
There was the sound of something ripping beside him.
“Shit. Things move fast in this timeline, don’t they?”
Eddie turned his head and froze, staring wide eyed at the third figure standing next to them.
Part 1 Part 3
I'm thinking one more part for this auspicious anniversary/time travel fic. I'll update the posts with links and the AO3 link too.
Thanks everyone for your sweet comments and tag requests! Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. 🖤
Tags: @epiclazersharkshark, @estrellami-1, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @addelyin
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader
Summary: Cregan's little sister is the only one who can change his mind, which is why Aemond decides to use his charms and convince her to support the Green using some peculiar methods.
Tags/TW: smut (p in v, loss of virginity, f!oral sex, praise, breeding, kinda innocent!kink), teasing, a bit of mean!aemond, slight dubcon, cregan being an overprotective brother, cursing. if something is missing let me know!!
Author's Note: mimor @tvrgvryen sent me this request a few days ago and I had to do it bc i loved it so much. So here it is!
Word Count: 4.9k
Aemond has always been a good observer. He has always noticed the small details, the reason why people acted as they did, the way people treated others. That's why it wasn't hard for him to realize how important you were for your beloved brother Cregan.
The day he first stepped into Winterfell after Vhagar gracefully landed on the snow, he saw how brave Cregan was for stepping between you and the enormous beast. However, that mere gesture exposed the big affection he had for you; his only sister, and with that, Aemond knew what was Lord Stark's greatest weakness… you.
He went to the North with a mission, a task to fulfill, and he was not a man that was known to give up on things. Aemond was resilient, determined. He would not accept a negative answer from the Warden of the North, and even though he knew about the oath and how Starks are famously known for being loyal to their words; he was eager to find his way to gain the North's support.
And his opportunity came up with you; the sweet, kind Lady Stark. Beloved by all, you were also known as the Heart of Winterfell, for it was said that even the small folk held dear for you. Everything that Aemond heard about you were nothing but good words, showing how much people appreciated you, which only impulsed Aemond's bad intentions.
It is true, a Stark never forgets an oath, but the North gathers when the wolf howls… and even though your brother was the visible face of your House, everyone knew that it was you the one that had true power over the masses; your gentleness made you the Queen of the North, and that information was enough for Aemond to start his devious schemes.
It all started at the training yard. The snow had fallen earlier in the morning, covering the ground with a thick layer of snow. He was staring at you as you struggled with a bow and arrow, not being able to hit the bullseye. This would only make you groan with impatience, despair even. Aemond pressed his lips and looked down at his shoes, trying to show himself amused by you wrestling.
"You're too tense, my lady," he said as he slowly walked towards you.
His black fur coat covering his slim shape, his white hair perfectly still despite the crazy wind, his hands at the back of his body. He looked so effortlessly elegant, it almost made you blush.
"My prince," you greeted him, bowing swiftly, "I'm sorry you have to watch this terrible attempt."
"I didn't know women were allowed to train here in the North," he spoke, politely as he stretched his arm to touch the fine wood of the bow you were holding.
"We're not," you replied, "but my brother insists I should be prepared to defend myself, so he forces me to train either way."
"Mhm…" he nodded, "your brother is a clever man. A beauty like yours is the target of many deprived men, he's doing well by letting you learn how to protect yourself."
"But he barely has time to teach me," you complained, placing your arms in position to shoot again, "now he's in a meeting with the Mormonts, and I am here," you let the arrow go, but it didn't even hit the target. "...failing miserably."
Aemond chuckled, and you inevitably blushed at the low sound that came out of him. You stared at him from your peripheral view, analyzing his undeniable beauty and flirtatious smirk which made your heart beat a little too fast.
"You're too tense," he repeated, as he shifted his position until he was behind you.
His hands went to your shoulders, and he squeezed them softly giving you a soft and short massage that made you close your eyes. Soon, one of his hands reached yours, the one that was holding the bow's grip. He wrapped it around yours, and you immediately felt his warmth on your cold skin. It made you gasp silently.
"You see, I'm not so good at using a bow, I think my weapon of choice is the sword," he whispered, getting closer to your ear, his breath smacking against your shivering skin, "but I know things… and I can teach you if you please, my lady."
His nose rubbed against your hair, and your delicious smell almost made him groan. Soon, the prince helped you to fix your position as your breathing was getting heavier and an unknown feeling was installed in your lower belly. You feel the heat even though it was freezing cold, you felt his body pressing against yours leaving a sensation of distress, as if your body was begging you for something.
You feared of someone seeing you; the position was quite compromising, and you were certain your reputation would be stained if someone witnessed such a scandalous scene. It felt too intimate for you, perhaps not so proper for a maiden like you. You would have tried to push him away, but there was something within him that did not allow you to do so; it was as if he had bewitched you with his charms, and you were under a spell from which you were not able to wake up.
"It's simple, my lady," he explained, "you must relax, you must let go," his voice so deep and low against your ear, "come on, no one's watching, you're under no pressure…"
His touch, so delicate and gentle, mixed with his words, which you quickly misinterpreted; 'no one's watching', it sounded more like an invitation rather than words of comfort. You couldn't help but to sigh, a gesture that brought a slight smirk upon Aemond's face.
"Let yourself go, Lady Stark," his voice turned more breathy, rapier. "That's it, so good… now, eyes on the target, don't take your eyes off of it, okay?"
You simply nodded, wildly blushing at his praise. There was a subtle shiver that went to your trembling hands, you cleared your throat trying to play it down.
"Take deep breaths, don't close your eyes," his hands left yours, now going to your abdomen, his nose brushing against your ear as he kept whispering, "good, good girl."
Your teeth captured your lower lip as you held back a whimper. Squirming in your place, you felt weak on the knees as his hands left a squeeze on your hips.
You listened, and your hand let go of the string. Your eyes widened with surprise as the arrow hit close to the bullseye, which was certainly not perfect, but it was an improvement. A smile appeared in your face as you tilted your head to appreciate your achievement, and soon a giggle escaped you.
"Oh, Gods…" you sighed, "I did it."
"You did it," Aemond said, "you did so well."
His words made your face turn to face him, and his lips were just a few inches away from yours. Your breath hitched, as your heart pounded with so much strength that you thought he would be able to hear it… even feel it. His hand traveled upwards your body until it reached the nape of your neck.
For a moment you thought he would kiss you, that his soft-looking lips would dare to touch yours. But suddenly, he pulled away. Few seconds later, footsteps were heard dragging the snow beneath their feet, and soon you found out the reason behind his abrupt reaction.
"Sister!" you heard. The deep and roaring voice of your brother woke you up from your trance, and you turned around to face him.
You saw a frown upon his face as his eyes narrowed. For a moment you thought he saw how close you were with Aemond, but soon his own words proved you wrong.
"Septa has been waiting for you for an hour!" he scolded you, "why are you still here?"
It took you a while to speak, you knew your voice would come out weak and thin if you dared to utter a word in that moment, which not only would make Cregan be suspicious of what happened, but also would embarrass you in front of the charming prince.
Luckily for you, Aemond decided to step in.
"I was helping her train, my lord, I'm sorry for the disruption I might have caused," you looked down at the steps Aemond had left in the snow, right beside yours.
You were quick and subtle once you purposely stepped on them to erase them. Aemond noticed and he couldn't help but smirk.
"Well, stop your training and go," he demanded, "you might continue tomorrow."
You had no choice but to obey. One last glance was given to Aemond as you bowed to him, saying goodbye. Cregan followed your frame as you entered the castle, and then he turned to look at the prince. Aemond was no fool, he knew Cregan was not ignorant of his intention… he was a man after all, he could see through his facade with no big effort.
However, he did not say anything about it. He just nodded, and then he left leaving Aemond standing alone with the burning desire running down his body.
At first, he planned on just seducing you… but now? Now he will have you. He needed to have you.
That same day, quite late at night, you were found in your chambers, laying on your belly on top of the fur carpet right in front of the warmth of the fireplace. A book was between your hands as your eyes followed the traces of the poetic words that were written in it. The sound of the fire crackling and burning the wood was the only thing you were able to hear until three soft knocks interrupted the quiet calmness of the night.
You barely looked up as you muttered a soft 'come in', turning the page to continue with your reading. The door was opened in a subtle movement that you barely noticed, and soon you heard steps getting close to you.
It wasn't until you were able to see the shoes of that person that you decided to look up, only to find Aemond's grin staring back at you. You immediately sat up, crossing your legs and trying to cover your breasts with the book; the fabric of your nightgown was thin, and you knew that your skin could usually be seen through it if he dared to squint to take a look.
Your body hasn't forgotten about his touch and closeness, and in a certain way it was actually craving for more of that. But you knew it was not proper, you've heard whispers around the castle claiming that he was actually betrothed to one of Lord Baratheon's daughters, meaning he already belonged to someone else.
And yet, you couldn't help but to feel the eagerness to touch him.
"My Prince," you said, the shock of seeing him there, sitting on the carpet right beside you was shown in your voice, "what- what are you doing here?"
"I found myself alone and bored in my chambers, so I decided to wander around the castle and the path brought me here… to you," he smiled kindly as he said those last two words. Words that made your heart beat faster and your cheeks turn red, "were you reading?" He asked, pointing at the book that was covering your pebbled nipples.
"Uh… yes," you nodded, shyly, "it's a book about poetry."
"Poetry?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, "Mind if I have a look, little wolf?"
You couldn't help but to wildly blush with the pet name, feeling butterflies inside your belly as you pulled the book out of your chest and left it in his hands. Aemond's eyes inevitably went to see your soft breasts covered by a thin white layer of silky fabric, breathing deep and harsh as he felt his cock twitch inside his pants once he managed to see your nipples through it.
He remained calm, even when the only thing he wanted was to rip that gown out of your body and take you right there. Instead, he just sighed as his fingers elegantly turned the pages, reading some extract of the love poems in the book.
"I see you're a romantic person, my Lady," he commented, without taking his eyes off of the pages, "do you consider yourself a fan of the genre?"
"It's something that I enjoy reading, yes," you nodded.
"I had the impression," he confessed, closing the book and leaving it aside, "have you ever been in love?"
You shook your head, "I don't- I don't think so."
"Mhm…" he sighed, "that’s odd, you're a gorgeous lady, one might have thought you had a lot of suitors waiting for you."
"You're too kind," you said, looking retrained for a few seconds.
"I'm just stating the facts, little wolf," he spoke softly, "It seems like your brother likes to scare them away."
"Them?" You asked confused.
"Your suitors," he clarified, "that's the only reasonable explanation of why you are not married yet."
"He just wants the best for me," you defended him.
"And what would that be?"
"A husband who not only sees me as a womb with legs, but also as something precious, something worthy of love and care," your dreamy voice made Aemond smirk, the naiveness in you amused him in so many ways.
"You're asking for too much in a society like this, don't you think?"
You shrugged, "a girl can only dream."
The prince nodded, "and a man can only fulfill those dreams, am I right?" You remained silent, avoiding his heavy and penetrative stare at all cost, "have you ever been this close to a man before?"
"I could tell," he chuckled, a sound that buzzed into your ears and made your mind go fuzzy, "you were quite nervous when I helped you with your bow this morning."
"I don't feel very comfortable with the proximity of men…" you confessed.
"Of all men, or just of me?"
That's when you realized where this was going, and the panic quickly installed in your gut as you swallowed hard. It took you some time, but you finally noticed his true intentions. You knew you had to stop him before things went further.
"My prince, I'm not quite sure what you mean by those words," you started to stand up, tumbling in your knees, "but it's late and it wouldn't be proper for you to be seen in my chambers, so please-"
Your words were interrupted by the sudden action of Aemond, who pulled you closer until you stranded him, your legs at each side of his body as he forced you to sit on his lap, his hands pressed in your hips firmly, not allowing you to escape from his strong grip.
"I think you know what I mean, my lady…" he whispered, leaning closer to your ear only to mutter with his seductive and raspy voice, "I think you can feel it."
Your breath hitched in your throat at the same time you tried to speak, "I- I don't know…"
"Tell me what you felt when I touched you this morning," he commanded, his hands lowering to your thighs, starting to lift the thin fabric of your gown, "was it similar to what you're feeling right now?"
"I… I don't-"
"I sensed your nervousness when I said how good of a girl you are," he chuckled, starting to breathe in your neck, smelling your sweet scent, "does that arouse you, little wolf? Being praised?"
"Prince Aemond, this is not proper, please-" you tried to pull away, but his grip pushed you down once again. Now you were able to feel his hard-on pressing right down your core, which sent you a sensation that caused chills down your spine.
"That's not what I'm asking you," he spoke sternly, massaging your thighs, squeezing them every now and then, "Mhm… my sweet little wolf, you're shaking. Are you nervous now? You don't have to be, I won't hurt you."
"I told you I do not enjoy this," you breathed out, feeling his hands reaching your hips underneath your gown.
"So you're telling me that if I dare to touch between your legs… I would not find your cunt drenching for me?"
His words made you squirm, the blush running to your cheeks as his thumb started to caress your mons pubis. Your body tensed as you widened your eyes, feeling his finger pressing down.
“I- I don’t- my Prince, please stop-” a small moan interrupted your words as he found your clit between your folds. His thumb rubbing it slowly as you closed your eyes; embarrassed that he was touching such a private part of your body.
“Have you ever been kissed, my lady?” He asked, trying to hold back a groan as he felt your slick coating his digit, “Has someone been lucky enough to be the first to claim your beautiful lips?”
You shook your head, Aemond hummed with delight.
“Then I guess I’ll be the first…”
You barely were able to process his words when he pressed his soft lips against yours. Slow movements that were easy for you to follow without much struggle as you held back whimpers of pleasure, for his thumb was still torturing your pearl in a slow and gentle manner.
Your hand fell on his chest, not with the intention of pushing him away. You grasp his thin blouse, catching the fabric between your trembling hands as you felt the tip of his tongue starting to tease your lips. Hesitantly, your lips parted just a few inches, enough to give him space for him to claim your mouth; swirling his tongue against yours as you tried to keep up with his slow and tempting actions.
He was able to taste your inexperience, the way you would doubt your movements before actually doing them was enough proof for him to know that you were not lying; he was the first man to kiss, which now made him more eager to also become the first man to fuck you.
A gasp escaped your swollen lips when, in a sudden movement, he laid your body in the soft carpet, spreading your legs and placing himself between them. Your nightgown was wrinkled around your hips, exposing your glistening folds to him as he kept playing with your now sensitive clit. Soft mewls were heard as he stopped kissing you in order to taste your skin. You felt the wet caresses of his lips in your neck, your jaw, your collarbones, all while your hands were grasping the fur of the carpet beneath you.
His fingers were soon covered in your juices, your hips trying to move against them in an attempt to feel more, but he pulled them away and you widened your eyes once you saw him licking them and humming after he felt your sweet taste against his tongue. Your breath was caught in your throat as you heard him groan.
"My lady, you taste as sweet as you are," he spoke slowly, you blinked a couple times still feeling your mind fuzzy, "do you want a taste?"
You gulped, not entirely sure of what to reply. The words were unable to come out, so all you could was nod.
A careless smile appeared on his face as he left a soft kiss on your cheek, before you realized your legs were on his shoulders and his face buried in your drenching cunt as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure his tongue was providing you.
His slurping was heard, echoing in the room as you tried to push his head away from your pussy, breathing fast and unsteady as he devoured you. You felt his tongue teasing your needy hole as his nose rubbed against your clit, making you moan a bit too loudly. His hands were grabbing your hips tightly, just to make sure you don't escape from him; his fingertips burying in your soft skin as your body writhe under his skilful mouth.
You could feel your own slick slipping down your thigh along with his spit. It was messy, far from being as slow and calm as the kiss he gave you before. He was eager to make you cum; licking, sucking, and fucking your cunt until you were nothing but a moaning mess.
It was over before you even noticed it. With a loud gasp, your eyes rolling and your thighs pressing at each side of Aemond's head, you reached your first orgasm, which finished with you gulping and hiccuping with pleasure. You heard him moaning against your soaking folds, collecting all your slick to then lean over your body.
He took a look at your face, your lips quivering as your cheeks were burning and tinted with a furious red. His fingers reached your chin, and made you open your mouth, which you did without hesitation. His spit fell in your tongue before your glistening eyes closed as you whimpered. You were able to taste yourself in it, the sweetness of your release coating your tongue.
"Swallow it," he commanded, and you quickly obeyed him, "good girl…" he let out a chuckle, and you couldn’t help but to feel an unknown heat running down your body. "See? I told you you were sweet, doesn't it taste good?"
You nodded, sighing.
"So good, so delicious…" he leaned to kiss you again as his hands pulled down your gown, freeing your breasts, "I swear it, my lady, I will not rest until your cunt is mine forever."
His big hands left a soft squeeze on your tits before they went to his pants, untying the lace and pulling them down. His leaking cock was now on your sight, hard and reddish. You barely noticed he took off his shirt as you were too hypnotized seeing that specific part of his body. Aemond immediately noticed your curious eyes, and he teasingly grabbed his cock in his hand only to stroke it a few times before letting it on top of your clit.
"Do you want it, my lady?" He whispered, starting to rub himself on you.
You whined, looking down at the obscene scene of his cock parting your puffy lips.
"Do you want my cock to make you feel good?" He groaned, feeling your slick coating his shaft, "I will give it to you if you ask me… Tell me what you want."
You gulped, trying to pronounce pleas.
"Aemond… I- I want…"
"Tell me, my beautiful lady," he muttered, "tell me what you desire."
"I want you… please… it's hurting, I-"
The head of his cock reached your hole and he slowly started to sink in you. Your eyes widened as a soft cry escaped your throat. Your legs closed as you brought them against your chest, and Aemond groaned in disapproval.
"Come on, darling… keep your legs open for me," he cooed, "I want to see your pretty pussy taking my cock."
He held the back of your knees, keeping your legs folded but spread. His cock was buried in your tight cunt as tears of pain started to fall down your cheeks. A loud cry was heard, louder than all of the others, and Aemond was quick to put his hand on top of your mouth.
"Sh, sh…" he whispered, "It's okay, it'll pass. Just relax, my lady, it will feel so good."
He spreaded you open with one push, your back arched as you struggled to take him. He stayed still for a few seconds before his own lust decided that he could not wait any longer. Your walls were squeezing him deliciously as he started to pound against you, groaning and moaning as the pleasure was taking the best of him.
Grasping on the fur beneath you, you started to sob. Aemond saw the signs of pain in your face and he quickly leaned over you in order to take one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. The feeling that brought you was indescribable, and soon the pain became bearable as his thrusts remained slow but became harder.
Aemond would choke his moans against your tit as his tongue skilfully swirling around it, licking and sucking as he kept fucking you, each thrust going deeper and deeper.
"Fuck…" he sighed, "your pussy is so fucking tight. Made by the Gods just for me."
His words made you drool as the warmth of the fireplace was starting to affect you, making you sweat. His hand left your mouth, now going to play with your swollen and needy clit.
"This little cunt belongs to me now, doesn't it?" he purred against your ear.
He hummed, "how sweet you sound when you moan my name like that."
"What is it, my lady?" he teased you, "do you want to cum? Do you want to make a mess on my cock?"
"Y-yes…" you managed to say, choking with your words as he thrusted harder, "Oh, Gods! Yes…"
"That's it, sweet girl…" he praised you, "taking me so well, so good. I'm gonna fill you up, leave you leaking with my cum. Is that what you want?"
"G-Gods… yes, p-please!" you whined.
"Then I guess I have no other choice but to give you what you want…"
A soft chuckle left him as his thrusts became faster. His hips smacking against yours as he gripped your arsecheeks to gain stability. The sound of your slick drenching around his cock echoed in the room as you started to cry out, sobbing with pleasure and begging for more.
Aemond looked at your cunt, and a soft and subtle whine was heard as he saw the way his cock disappeared between your folds. Your pleas would only make him desperate, eager to reach his climax and seeing your abused hole leaking his pearly seed. The image alone was enough to make his cock twitch inside you.
"Fuck, so good… so fucking good," he lifted your hips, pounding restlessly against you as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes as his breathing turned unsteady, "such a perfect pussy, squeezing me so fucking good."
You clenched around him, and that was what sent him over the edge, spilling his big loads of cum inside of you at the same time that your release exploded. Your cries were heard even in the hallway, as the intensity of your orgasm took over your shaky body. The feeling of him stuffing you with his seed sent you a shiver down your spine that made you twitch your hips.
Aemond leaned over you to kiss you, pounding lazily as he was coming down from his orgasm. You receive the sloppy kiss as your eyes were closing by themselves, too worn out to keep them open.
But then, Aemond decided to speak.
"Look at you, sweet girl…" he said with an odd tone that you haven't heard from him until now, "what would your big brother say if he saw you now, huh? Filled with my seed, a mess under my touch."
Your breathing stopped for a second and only then you realized what you did. You opened your eyes only to find a smirk on his face, and your heart dropped.
"You probably will be swollen with my bastard in a few months… then what would the people think of you? The Heart of the North carrying the Prince's bastard child…"
"N-no…" you muttered, starting to softly push his chest.
"Mhm, yes…" he scoffed, "unless I take you as my bride, of course."
A shaky breath came out of your nose as tears of despair fell down your cheeks, your bottom lip quivered as your gleaming eyes looked at his.
"W-would you… would you take me as your wife?"
Aemond smirked, starting to pull out of you. He hummed delighted with the view as he saw the pearly drops leaking out of you. He sighed, putting his pants on and fixing his clothes.
"If your brother decides to join his forces with ours, I will take you as my bride and no one will know this happened before our marriage…" he said, standing up and looking down at you. "But, if he decides to join my sister's army…"
He doesn't even need to finish the sentence for you to know the consequences of that. The panic ran down your body as you sat in the carp carpet, covering your nudity with your nightgown and crying.
"How- how am I supposed to-?"
"Cregan Stark will do anything his little sister commands," he interrupts you, taking a few steps towards you to gently grab your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look at him, "so you better choose the right option, my lady."
He left a caress in your cheek with a smug smile on his face. He abandoned your chambers, letting you there feeling helpless and a bit scared.
It wasn't a big surprise for him when a few days later Lord Stark gave him the good news… and Aemond fulfilled his words, marrying you a month after the North joined the war and helped King Aegon II win the final battle against Rhaenyra.
What was a surprise, was the birth of your first child, a month earlier than what the Maesters expected.
Yearning and Hesitation. |Kaz Brekker
Summary: Kaz finds himself exploring your bedroom but when you catch him he has to explain why he wanted to see you.
parings: Kaz Brekker x fem! reader.
Warnings: Fluff with Lots and lots of pinning!, Kaz’s touch aversion, one soc event mention. One curse word, Reader has a cat named Luigi:)
A/N: Hi!! this is my first little six of crows one-shot, although i might make it a series! pls ignore how i gave up on the end…
Kaz had spent several little moments in your room at the slat. He had seen it in glimpses, he was the one to wake you for work, of course. He however, never studied the small corner you slept in like he was currently. Kaz loomed, peering at the little details your room had. He stopped at your bedside table and lightly scoffed, he found it foolish that the person he watched swiftly take down multiple people, including grisha, collect the silliest of things.
You had, what he thought was, a couple of unordinary dusty rocks. A glass of water, a pretty drawing and two silver rings. Yet, his eyes refocused on something he recognized, A small crow pendant, differently this wasn’t unordinary. It was the same pedant you both found during a job keeping watch. He remembered how excited you were, over such little coincidence. He picked it up, feeling it through his leather gloves. Kaz smiled.
Putting the pedant back in it’s rightful place, he was interrupted when he noticed a small cat laid shamelessly on the bed beside him. “I forgot about you.” Kaz breathed. The cat meowed and inched closer to his hand, desperate for a head rub. Slight panic struck him.
The cat gave a glinting look at Kaz and he found it hard to ignore the small creature. He gently pat the cats head. After a minute or so, Kaz took his hand back, leaving the cat in a confused expression. “Sorry.” He replied. He couldn’t even take his gloves off normally, let alone pet a cat for this long.
The cat retaliated by harmlessly biting his right glove. Kaz scrunched up his face in annoyance, “No.” He began, “Stop it.”. His voice, demanding yet soft. Kaz abruptly turned to the door, he could hear a couple of faint footsteps. His body moved in an awkward manner, trying to peer off the little kitty’s claws, avoiding looking insane to whomever opened the door.
As the footsteps got clearer, staggered little laughs were heard as well. It came to him in seconds. It was your laugh. The same laugh where you threw your head back, collapsing into the person closest to you. The laugh that hypnotized him, the one that left warmth in his cold heart.
His sudden thoughts cleared when the door opened. You were face to face with your cat attacking your boss’s hand.
“Kaz?” You giggled, still recovering from the conversation with jesper a moment ago.
“Hello.” Kaz hesitated.
You moved over to him and carefully removed the kitty from his grip, “I’ve seen, you met Luigi.” Jesper laughed.
You glared at him and Kaz blinked, “The cat.”
“I should’ve given him a collar that says, careful he bites.” You replied.
“Make two, you know, for dirtyhands here.” Jesper teased.
“Don’t” Kaz stared.
“Yeah, i’ll just, go.” He said, waving a hand to you and closing the door.
Your soft breathing was the only thing keeping the room from complete silence. Why was he here?
Kaz’s mouth was dry, no words had come up to explain himself. Your boss, the man you’ve seen push his fingers into a man’s eyes, ripping them out, was frozen in place in your bedroom, unable to speak.
“Your room.” He paused as his hands awkwardly clutched his cane, “It’s intriguing.”
Your body relaxed, “Is that a compliment?”
He nodded and you chuckled. “If I knew my boss was to break into my room, i would’ve tidied up a bit.”
His eyes slightly grew, “I wasn’t.” he began, “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
Kaz brekker didn’t mean to be rude?
“I have a job for us.” He lied.
You sat down on your bed, sighing and putting a hand on your chest. “Saints, Kaz I thought you were about to fire me.”
Kaz had no physical reaction to what you said, in his head, he was a little upset. The man who asked, “Where’s Y/N.” every fucking second, wasn’t going to fire you.
You laid down and turned over to him, “Sorry for Luigi by the way.
He sat, resting his cane on the foot of the bed. “You owe me new gloves.”
You looked at him again, “Maybe you deserved it.”
“You and your cat are the same.” He shared, “Vicious.”
Playfully, you softened your eyes, “Me?”.
You noticed his sudden change, as he stared. His eyebrows relaxed, his breath hitched.
Kaz exhaled, he wanted to tell her and he wanted to show her just how much she clouded his mind. In a good way and in a bad way. One look like this was enough to entrance him.
“Lay with me.” You asked and he flinched, “No touching, I promise.”
Kaz took a moment, but eventually nodded.
“There is no job,” You whispered, “Right?”.
He looked up at the ceiling, “No.”
“Why are you here?” You asked, turning your head over to him.
Kaz fell silent.
“Just say it.” You pleaded.
He swallowed, his adam’s apple visible as you stared. He couldn’t speak, his mouth once again dry. What have you done to me?
You hadn’t even realized the pressure you were putting on him, you wanted him but, he wasn’t ready. You had to except that. Kaz Brekker, you knew, was a complicated man and that wasn’t his fault.
“It’s okay.” You muttered, “Just, stay here.”
He finally looked over, his eyes exploring your expression.
“For a little bit.” You asked. “Please.”
Kaz gulped once again, keeping eye contact with you. You truly could stare at him for hours and never get enough of him.
So both of you laid there silently, unaware for how long. Drinking each other’s presence.
Kaz watched you fall asleep that night.
Wanna Play A Game?
⊹ playlist ⊹
“You’ve always been a bit skeptical of Beomgyu’s friend group. But for him, you pushed it aside, opting to give in to his pleas as you find yourself in Soobin’s vacation home during spring break. Only, it seems that things are only going downhill.”
??? x fem! reader
Also featuring: Soobin, Ryujin and Yeji from Itzy, Wooyoung from Ateez
Genre: slasher, thriller, mystery, angst, smut, mystery member(s) oooh
Word count: 13K
Warnings: Use of substances (weed and alcohol), everyone’s kinda an asshole, arguing, vomiting, blood, wounds, biting, weapons, death and murder (duh), kidnapping, blindfolding, handcuffing, pet names (angel, cutie, good girl, etc.), manipulation, threats, gaslighting, please don’t question how everything works. (Or do, I might’ve made a timeline already.) let me know if I missed anything!
Smut warnings: dubcon. Mean Dom(s)! ???, sub!mc manhandling, praise, degrading, mind breaking(?), sensory deprivation, handcuffing, biting, marking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, crying, unprotected sex, choking, creampie
Notes: fanfic author watches scream vi and gets inspired by a single scene (shocking) (also the playlist is a bit weird and messy so watch out for that)
Three characters, your only hint. Who could it be? One, two… maybe three?
[Dark themes ahead, read at your own discretion. I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume, nor do I condone any themes discussed. This story does not reflect the idol’s true character or morals, and are merely used as characters in fiction.]
“Guys, come on, don’t be fucking stupid.”
The fire is warm against your hands as you swat away the mischievous ones of your friends, the group laughing and poking fun at you as they lean in; dangerously close, playing with fire as though to taunt you.
The lights in the kitchen turn on as the shadow of another of your friends roams around inside, a few of you turning to look in curiosity before you’re back to chatting in your circle. The puffer jacket that's been zipped all the way up seems to be doing nothing for you as you find yourself sinking into your seat even more, hands deep in your pockets as you nuzzle your numb nose into your jacket.
“You sure you don’t want some?” Yeonjun is close and quiet as he speaks to you, his voice no louder than a murmur as he nods to the blunt that’s been passed back to him. Shaking your head, you shiver as a particularly harsh wind passes through the group.
“No thanks. Too cold for this shit,” you say, gesturing to the way you’re practically ready to curl into your seat. Yeonjun simply huffs out a laugh at your antics, nodding his head softly before he brings the blunt to his lips.
“Could always shotgun it,” he teases, ignoring the way you scoff as he takes in a deep breath; his hands are red and stiff, and he looks back at you as he sends you a wink— smoke blows in your face as you sputter, shoving him away as the two of you burst out laughing.
“Asshole,” you mutter, scrunching your nose as Yeonjun passes the blunt to the other person beside you; Ryujin takes it happily, slumping back into her chair as she shakes her head in amusement at your antics.
“Think I’m gonna go inside, it’s freezing out here,” you say, groaning softly as you go to stand up— your legs feel stiff, a strong shiver coursing through you as you shrug off everyone’s pleas for you to stay out for a bit more. Shaking your head, you bid them goodbye as you go back inside; the glow of the fire slowly disappears as you’re left in the dark for a second, trudging through the grass and making your way tiredly to the back porch.
It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to get up the stairs— but it’s so damn cold that you feel as though your legs might snap off, and the hot tub that greets you as you finally make your way to the back entrance is quite the funny sight; maybe if the weather would’ve been nicer, you would’ve found yourself in there instead.
There’s a whole week to let the weather get better, you think, finally letting your hand out of your pocket as you open the glass door. The heat that greets you is instant, and you let out a sigh of relief as you stumble inside, stepping onto the kitchen tiles as you lock eyes with Taehyun, Beomgyu looking up curiously from his seat at the counter.
“Are they coming back in?” Taehyun asks, leaning back against the counter as he takes another sip of his drink— soda, you note surprisingly, despite the grandiose liquor cabinet that Soobin showed everyone earlier being just a few steps away from him.
“No, I was just the first one to cave in,” you say, going around to take a seat next to Beomgyu, “what’re you guys doing in here all alone?”
“Same reason as you,” Beomgyu says, tilting his head as he drums his fingers against the counter, “it’s too cold out there.”
You hum softly at his response; checking your phone, you sigh, placing it face down as you lean into the palm of your hand dejectedly.
“What, can’t handle not being able to use your phone for a day?” Beomgyu laughs, taking in your expression as you pout softly, “the cell towers should be back up tomorrow, don’t worry.”
“This area always has some of the most unpredictable weather,” Taehyun grumbles, speaking for the first time in a while as your eyes jump up to meet his, “I dunno why they picked this place for spring break.”
“Cause it’s perfect, that’s why,” Beomgyu answers before you can get a word in, nodding your head in agreement as he begins to recite Soobin’s words, “no neighbors, no cops to crash the party, just us here.”
“Half of them are at risk for alcohol poisoning every time they get access to it,” Taehyun says, jutting his head at the group that rambunctiously moves about, seemingly laughing at something funny as they fail to settle down for even a second, “It’s a bad idea to be doing all this while not having any way to contact emergencies.”
“Come on dude, loosen up for once,” Beomgyu tuts, rolling his eyes at the younger’s behavior as he turns to you with a sly look on his face, “Don’t know why I even invited him.”
“Shut up,” Taehyun barks, clenching his jaw as he goes to take another sip of his soda; his eyes lock with yours, and you can’t help but gulp as you take in how annoyed they are.
Beomgyu seems to ignore any signs of irritation from the man before him, turning to you eagerly instead as he sends you a bright smile, long hair falling in his eyes as he doesn’t bother to push it out of the way.
“Hey, wanna go watch a movie or something? I hear Soobin’s got a sick collection of slasher movies,” Beomgyu offers, completely disregarding Taehyun, who simply watches the way he takes your hand, leading you out to the living room before you can say so much as a goodbye.
You’re a bit confused at Beomgyu’s behavior, but you decide against pointing it out as he lightheartedly pushes you onto the couch; you fall with a small grunt unceremoniously, leaning back into the cushions as you turn to watch Beomgyu scan through the shelf of movies; your fingers go to play with the zipper of your jacket, absentmindedly tugging at it before you finally take it off.
“Have you watched Scream?” Beomgyu calls out to you, glancing back at you briefly as you huff a small laugh at his question.
“Duh, who hasn’t?” You reply, turning away from him as the screen door in the backyard is opened roughly; Soobin is stumbling in, Ryujin and the others following behind as they all complain about how it suddenly began to rain.
“What’re we watching?” Soobin asks, taking a seat next to you as the rest crowd around; Yeji and Ryujin settle down next to you, Yeonjun sitting beside them as he quietly mutters something along the lines of “this is a big ass couch.” He’s quick to signal Wooyoung to sit next to him, leaning back into the corner of the deep U-shaped couch as he puts his feet up on the coffee table, despite Soobin’s protests.
“Scream,” Taehyun says, settling on the floor as he rests his head back on the cushions. Everyone’s chatters and comments about the movie are drowned in your ears as you watch him sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut as a yawn rips through him; Beomgyu is trotting over before you can dwell on his condition any further, fumbling with the old DVD player on Soobin’s console station as he diligently tries to follow Soobin’s irritated commands.
“Holy fuck, lemme do it,” Soobin stands, pushing Beomgyu out of the way as he sets the movie up himself; the younger male looks like a kicked puppy as he saunters back to the couch, taking Soobin’s seat as he rests a head on your shoulder.
“He’s so mean,” he pouts, crossing his arms as you shake your head in amusement.
“There there, don’t cry,” you mumble half-heartedly, patting his head as Soobin’s giant flat screen tv finally lights up— everyone haphazardly cheers at the sight, and you watch as Yeonjun quickly sneaks off towards the liquor cabinet, grabbing as many bottles as he can before they’re clinking down on the table roughly.
“I’ve seen this movie too many times and the weed is already wearing off,” Yeonjun says, not bothering to grab any shot cups as he opens a bottle of vodka; there’s a mixed reaction in your group as you watch him waterfall it as though it were water, clearly putting on a show as Wooyoung shoves him playfully; he’s choking and spluttering from the action, slamming the bottle back down hurriedly as everyone laughs as though they were entertained.
Sitting up, you go to help Yeonjun who seems to be struggling to regain his composure, only to get pulled back by Beomgyu as he sends you a small smile.
“Don’t. He’ll be fine,” Beomgyu grins, watching as Wooyoung takes a turn to down a good couple of gulps— Yeonjun’s coughs have seized to nothing but an occasional clear of his throat, the back of his hand wiping at his chin as he stares down at his shirt in dismay; he reeks of alcohol, clearly annoyed as he sends Wooyoung a glare. Beomgyu only tugs you back down into the couch, ignoring the way you shift restlessly at the sight of Yeji and Ryujin recording the whole thing.
“Plus, you wouldn’t wanna ruin their shot, right?” He whispers, laughing softly as Yeonjun pushes Wooyoung in return— the vodka spills directly down his shirt, yelling in surprise as the liquid runs down his skin uncomfortably— you feel yourself tensing at the way they seem to be getting worked up, sitting up as they begin to argue loudly.
“Jesus, cut it out! Quit acting like fucking children! Go get some towels, they’re in the kitchen,” Soobin is quick to separate the two, pushing Wooyoung off the couch and signaling to the kitchen as he takes his spot, “and turn the light off on your way back.”
Yeji and Ryujin only laugh amongst themselves as Yeji puts her phone away, the sound of Ryujin whispering a soft “send that to me,” Barely reaching your ears before everyone’s settling back down, the tension simmering away as the lights in the kitchen finally turn off; Wooyoung is making his way back with a couple of paper towels for Yeonjun, taking a seat on the floor as the house is shrouded in complete darkness— the only thing giving off light now being the giant television before you.
You’ve seen this movie hundreds of times before; you know all the tropes, remembering every scene as you quickly find your mind wandering off— before you know it, you find yourself reaching for the bottle of vodka, too.
Maybe Yeonjun was onto something; you all seem much more relaxed and giggly as you yell at the screen, making comments and cracking jokes even in the face of countless scenes of gore. It’s a lot more fun this way, and before you know it, you find yourself much more interested in the movie than you were before.
“Holy shit, Soobin, where’s your bathroom,” Yeji groans, and you all tear your eyes away from the screen to find her doubled over, eyes shut as she clearly seems to be getting sick; Ryujin is quick to pull her up, pushing her along the way to the nearest bathroom in the maze of hallways— you’re surprised to find everyone unbothered as the sounds of Yeji’s pain filter over the noise.
It’s strange— you don’t typically find yourself around this group of people; you weren’t as close to them as one might think, your only strong connection with them all being Taehyun and the man who currently rested his head on your shoulder— he had countlessly reassured you that it would be fun, that staying at Soobin’s place would be a good way to spend a bit of your spring break; at first, you found yourself agreeing, but now you can’t help but seem unnerved at the way these people act around each other.
“Jesus, turn the volume up,” Yeonjun says, the boys around you laughing amongst themselves as a particularly loud sound from Yeji breaches through the movie; you find yourself antsy and clammy, meeting eyes with Taehyun, who seems as equally bothered as you are.
“I’m gonna go check on them,” you mutter quietly, pulling Beomgyu off you despite his reassurances that they’re completely fine; you can’t help but be unnerved at how calm they are about the situation, watching as your friend sinks back into the couch immediately, sending you a petulant pout that has you frowning.
Soobin’s house is hard to navigate without any source of light— pressing your lips together, you jump at the loud crack of thunder that manages to boom over the movie; the only thing you’re able to see is a small sliver of light that leaks through the bathroom door, the sinking feeling in your stomach only getting worse as the sound of crying reaches your ears.
“Yeji— Yeji, come on, sit up,” Ryujin says hurriedly, her voice stern yet shaky as you hear incoherent mumbling— it’s Yeji, you realize.
Hesitantly, you knock on the door; when you get no response, you turn the knob, peeking inside as you find Yeji leaning over the toilet bowl, her shoulders shaking as you find the source of the crying— yet Ryujin doesn’t seem to be doing any better, her breaths shaky as she stands over her friend, unsure of what to do as her head quickly snaps up at the sight of the door opening.
“Oh my god, is she okay?”
“I don’t— no, obviously not,” Ryujin snaps, stressed out as she runs a hand through her hair. Looking past you, you watch her expression quickly sour, the heightened sounds of screams from the movie reaching her as she scoffs in disbelief.
“Did those assholes turn the fucking volume up?” She’s standing up as Yeji begins to vomit once more, and you’re unable to control the way you wince as Ryujin holds her hair back. She’s trying her best to comfort her friend as she rubs her back soothingly, but the sudden boom from the movie makes her stand up hurriedly, pushing past you as she quickly mumbles for you to look after her— you’re scrambling to get to Yeji’s side, surprised to find her shaky and crying as you pull her hair away from her face, flushing the toilet as you pull her back for a moment.
“Are you guys seriously gonna act like this when we clearly need help?” Ryujin’s voice easily booms over the movie as she yells at the boys that still lounge on the couch, the incoherent sounds of arguing mixing together with the movie as you let out a shaky sigh.
“Don’t be such a bitch, she probably just greened out,” Soobin’s voice travels down the hall, and the heavy sounds of footsteps reach your ears as you hesitantly look up.
“You know she can barely handle her stuff, why’d you let her drink?” Soobin scoffs, his hair a mess as he runs his hand through his hair in annoyance— Wooyoung peeks over Soobin’s shoulder, making eye contact with you as he lets out a low whistle at the sight.
“Now’s not the time to be pointing fingers, she’s clearly sick dickhead!” Ryujin yells, overprotective of her friend as she shoves Soobin back— you flinch at the sight, unsure of what to do as the tensions in the room seem to rise.
“What’re we supposed to do? It’s storming outside, the roads aren’t safe to drive on,” Soobin’s reasoning falls on deaf ears as Ryujin retorts with an angry I don’t give a fuck, clearly worried over her friend who looks concerningly pale.
“So what? You wanna go out and crash the fucking car? Kill both of you at this point?” Soobin is flushed as the alcohol seems to be impairing his reasoning, Wooyoung and Yeonjun beginning to intervene as they pull the two away from each other.
“Guys, we won’t get anywhere if we keep arguing like this,” Yeonjun reasons, a bit tipsy as he places a firm hand on Soobin’s chest, “go look to see if you have any medicine or something, there might be something that can help her out in the meantime.”
“Don’t know why the fuck you’re blaming us when you let her get like that,” Soobin scoffs as he turns around, rolling his eyes at the way Ryujin bristles at his comment, face flushed and angry as she attempts to push past Wooyoung.
“What the fuck did you say?! Get back here you prick!” Your mouth feels dry as Ryujin seems to have been set off, Wooyoung beginning to push her back into another room in an attempt to calm her down— beside you, Yeji lets out a shaky breath.
“I don’t— we’re not always like this,” Yeonjun says, drawing your attention as he takes in the way you seem to be like a frightened rabbit. He lets out a deep sigh, leaning against the wall as he crosses his arms, still a bit drunk as he looks at Yeji diligently, “I don’t know what the hell is happening right now. I guess things are still tense between us.”
Shakily, you nod your head, choosing not to question things as the word still lingers in your head. You’re stuck staring at the floor as you attempt to rub Yeji’s back soothingly, mimicking Ryujin’s movements as she coughs softly— in the distance, you’re able to hear her shouts, clearly in a drunken fit as Wooyoung remains in the room, attempting to de-escalate the situation; you flinch at the sound of things smashing and shattering. Eventually, she settles down.
The house has gone silent, save for the movie that still drones on in the background, the volume significantly lowered— it’s a bit eerie as Yeonjun continues to watch over you like a hawk, your thoughts begin to run wildly; biting at your lip, you finally break, clearing your throat as you gather the courage to meet Yeonjun’s eyes.
“You said things are still tense between you,” you start, watching the way he seems unprepared for your question, “what do you mean by that?”
He says nothing; it leaves you wondering if he’ll actually respond, shuffling uncomfortably in place as he refuses to meet your eyes. An unnerving pause ensues as you begin to wonder why Soobin is taking so long.
“It’s just,” his eyes dart to the floor, dejected as his brows scrunch together in a frown, “we recently lost a friend.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” you feel awkward as you find yourself only being able to respond like that, casting your gaze away from him as you notice the way Yeji has been looking wearily at you this whole time— you feel like you’ve done something wrong, suddenly scrutinized under their eyes as you brush back a strand of Yeji’s hair that has fallen over her shoulder.
“Here, this is all I could find,” Soobin suddenly appears, shaking a bottle of pills as his eyes land on Yeji— she’s shaking now, another wave of nausea taking over as she bows her head in defeat, letting out a soft groan as nothing comes out— Soobin slowly approaches her, kneeling before the two of you as he looks her condition over.
“Holy shit Yeji, what the fuck did you do?” He clearly doesn’t expect an answer as he slowly helps her up; it doesn’t seem like she’s able to expel anything from her stomach anymore, clearly dehydrated as she slumps against Soobin like a rag doll.
“Here, I’ll take you to Ryujin, even though she’s probably still pissed at me—“ the thunder that interrupts him mid-sentence booms throughout the house, startling all of you as the sound is a lot closer than you’d like. The lights over you flicker, the three of you staring at the ceiling in confusion before the room becomes pitch black.
“What the…” Yeonjun seems to have sobered up a bit as he stands up straight, the house going completely silent as everything powers off— you’re all tense, even Yeji beginning to worry as she stirs against Soobin.
The sound is enough to have you acting without a second thought; you’re pushing past the two men carelessly at the sound of your friend’s distressed scream, the sound making you sick to the core as you run back to the living room where they were last at.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” you say, hands trembling uncontrollably as you stare at the scene before you, running to Taehyun’s side as your knees knock into the kitchen tiles roughly.
“Holy shit, who did this? What happened?” Taehyun grunts in pain as he holds his bicep, fingers clenched tightly around the muscle as he grits his teeth together; the screen door is wide open, and both Taehyun and Beomgyu are drenched their clothes drip a puddle around them, your pants beginning to get wet as well as you stay at their side.
But that’s the least of your worries right now— instead, you focus on your friend, who’s leaning against Beomgyu and groaning in pain as blood seeps through the cracks of his fingers.
“Fuck, I go to sleep for a few fucking minutes and this shit happens—“ Beomgyu’s rambling is incoherent as Taehyun lets out a low groan, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a shaky sigh. Hurriedly, you cup his face, tapping his cheek gently as you urge him to look at you.
“Taehyun, what happened?” You ask, unsure of what to do as you stand in a foreign home, searching for something to help him with— in the end, you simply opt to call Soobin’s name out desperately, turning back to Taehyun as you look around the house wearily.
“I don’t know,” he laughs weakly, an exasperated sigh leaving him as he rests his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder, “I thought I saw an animal or something on the porch, so I went to check it out— next thing I know, the door is forced open and I get fucking stabbed.”
You and Beomgyu freeze. Immediately, you look up at each other, your lips parting in shock as Soobin suddenly appears behind you.
“What the hell? What the fuck happened—“
“Soobin, we need to leave,” you say, standing up as you ignore all of Soobin’s questions, “We need to leave! Do you have something to patch Taehyun up with? We need to take it with us.”
“What? What are you talking about, what the hell is going on—?” Soobin is quick to shut up with another stern look from you, the moonlight the only thing that highlights your features as Soobin gives you a shaky nod, deciding to trust your judgment as he takes a quick look around the kitchen, scanning the cabinets before he lets out a shaky breath.
“It’s all in my bathroom upstairs,” he says, glancing back at the three of you as he gulps, “I’ll be quick, stay here,” he gives you all a pointed look before he’s going upstairs, the sound of the rain coming down hard onto the roof the only thing that fills the silence.
“Go with him,” Beomgyu says shakily, ignoring the way you look at him in disbelief, “It doesn’t feel right to let him go by himself. Go, he’ll be safe.”
“Beomgyu, I don’t even know where the fuck the front door is,” you admit, your adrenaline high as you wrap an arm around Taehyun’s shoulders before you’re pulling him onto you, “if anything, it’ll be better if you go.”
Beomgyu hesitates— he stares at you, taking in your determined state before he glances at Taehyun, lightheaded as the blood soaks his thin shirt— and nods, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze before he’s spriting up to where Soobin is.
“Let’s get you away from the kitchen,” you mumble, helping Taehyun stand up as the wind and rain that sneaks into the kitchen makes you two shiver violently. He nods softly, stumbling to his feet as he follows you to the couch; you’re making a mess of it, but that should be the least of your worries as Taehyun slumps against you wearily.
Closing your eyes, you let out a shaky sigh; you’re scared, the thought of there being an intruder somewhere around the area, dangerous and armed making chills run through your skin as you hold on tighter to Taehyun, attempting to calm your racing heartbeat; the man only lets out a shaky breath, head tucked into your chest safely as he attempts to steady his breathing.
This is insane, you think, taking a deep breath through your nose as you take in the situation— to think that the man you’ve longed for is finally leaning on you, tucked into you so safely— if you weren’t scared half to death right now due to the possibility of there being a killer on the loose, you almost would’ve found yourself becoming flustered.
Behind you, you hear the quiet voice of Yeonjun; he’s still taking care of Yeji who, judging by the fact that she hasn’t emerged from the bathroom at all, must still be feeling sick.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you find yourself saying, surprising the two of you as you feel a tear slip down your cheek— you’re quick to wipe it away, attempting to regain your composure before Taehyun can realize what’s going on.
“Here, this is all I could find in my bathroom,” Soobin yells, loud footsteps drawing your attention as Beomgyu follows close behind. You’re quick to sit up as Beomgyu runs over to you with alcohol and gauze, an apologetic look in his eyes as he takes in Taehyun’s state.
“I’ll go turn on the car, get the others and we’ll leave right now,” Soobin yells, running to the coat holder as he fishes into his jacket pockets; he doesn’t bother putting on the item, running out into the rain instead as the door is left wide open, the three of you able to keep an eye on him as he runs down the long driveway.
“I’ll get the others, stay here,” you’re quick to say, noticing the way Beomgyu was already beginning to tend to your friend. Behind you, you hear loud protests, the sounds of him telling you to wait falling on deaf ears as you’re fumbling for your phone, turning the flashlight on as you peek into the bathroom.
“I don’t know if you were able to hear everything, but we’re leaving. Get Yeji and go to the car, now,” you say, giving Yeonjun a firm look before you’re making your next stop. You can hear Yeonjun attempting to call after you before he gives up, talking to Yeji softly as he’s hoisting her up on his back; meanwhile, you’re searching through every door you come across in hopes of finding the room Ryujin and Wooyoung are currently in.
Empty. Empty. Empty. You find yourself becoming frustrated by Soobin’s insane mansion— uselessly, you looked through every room in the hallway before being left at the very last one.
“Guys, we need to leave, come on—“ the noise you make is strange and strangled as your phone’s flashlight pans across the room, an intense chill racking through your entire body as you find yourself choking back on bile.
Ryujin and Wooyoung are dead.
The phone in your hands almost slips out from how shaky you are, a broken sob leaving you before you find yourself screaming in horror— you’re not sure what’s happening after that, but you feel a firm pair of hands on your shoulders yanking you out of the door and shutting the door firmly before your face.
But, oh god, you can’t get the image out of your head; no matter how tightly Beomgyu holds you against him, it won’t erase the way your eyes met Ryujin’s blank ones, her face filled with horror and her throat slit as blood dripped down her shirt like a necklace— beside her, the sight of Wooyoung thrown across the bed with multiple wounds to the chest haunted you, unable to ignore the furniture strung across the floor and the bruises all over their bodies.
That hadn’t been a drunken fit earlier.
“Shit, oh shit,” Beomgyu mumbles against the crown of your head, having gotten a peek of the sight as he urges you to stand; but your legs are nothing more than jello as you attempt to stumble along, trying your best to get your shit together as you meet the others in the living room.
“What? What’s wrong? Where’s Ryujin and Wooyoung?” Yeonjun asks, panicked eyes searching behind the two of you in hopes of seeing his friends again; instead, he’s greeted with the sight of you, sputtering apologies as you choke on sobs.
“They’re— fuck I’m so sorry—“
That’s all it takes for Yeonjun’s eyes to widen, leaving Yeji on the couch before he’s running back to the room where they lie; only for Beomgyu to grab him roughly, stumbling back as you’re left to grab onto the couch in an attempt to regain your composure.
“We need to go, we need to get to safety,” Beomgyu says, attempting to calm Yeonjun down as the man before him begins to break down into rough sobs, Yeji doing no better than him as she puts her head in her hands.
“No, no! We’re not fucking leaving them! I’m not fucking leaving them behind, I can’t,” Yeonjun’s sobs become unintelligible as Beomgyu holds him close, a sudden wind blowing through the door and making a shiver run through your body as you turn to look outside.
You almost collapse at the sight of a man quickly making his way towards you; but it’s just Soobin, hair soaked and flattened as he finally returns— you feel relief flooding your system, ready to collect everyone before your eyes land on an item that makes your stomach sink.
It seems that everyone else heard you, turning to look at Soobin who only stares at you all silently, a dreadful silence falling through all of you as you wait for him to speak.
“They slashed the tires. All of them.” Every last car was now dismantled; even the bicycles were left in pieces as Soobin was left to stare at the vehicles in despair, unsure of how he could return to the house with such horrible news. Yet, as he scans the room, he feels a sinking feeling form in his stomach, his headcount not coming out right as he takes in everyone’s face; his eyes meet yours, taking in the way you seem frail and shaken.
“Where’s…?” He’s unable to finish his sentence as Beomgyu solemnly shakes his head, a soft sniffle drawing your attention as you take in the way Taehyun has bowed his head in the darkness, eyes shut tight as he avoids watching Soobin’s reaction.
“So then we’re stuck here?” You ask, changing the subject as you try to push out the memory of the scene you stumbled upon; it’s horrid, knowing that they still lie there, just a few rooms away from you.
“We can’t stay here, this house is too big for us to feel safe,” Yeonjun says, sniffing as he roughly wipes away tears that stray from his eyes; he’s trembling, you notice, the strong timbre of his voice betrayed by his body as his facade is melted away.
Soobin sighs, eyes darting around the dark home as he bites his lips nervously, mind rapidly searching for anything that could help.
“I don’t— I don’t know, maybe my dad might have left some of his hunting gear—”
“Someone’s coming,” Taehyun hisses, standing up as his eyes lock on the large expanse of woods in the backyard. You’re all tense at his comment, your eyes desperately locking with Soobin’s as you urge him to help.
“The basement, there might be something we can use to defend ourselves down there,” he breathes out, the front door swinging open as it slams into the wall and a harsh gust of wind seeps inside, the rain pouring down hard as a clap of thunder booms throughout the house. You’re all scrambling to follow Soobin at the sound, rushing to help Yeonjun who seems to be struggling to walk with Yeji. It’s dark in the hall as you try to make the least amount of noise possible, much too afraid to look back as you strain your eyes to keep Soobin’s dim figure in your sight, your hand steadily gliding on the wall to stabilize yourself.
There’s an odd feeling settling in your stomach; even though you’re barely able to make out the shape of your own limbs in this dark maze of rooms and hallways, you can’t help but look around in hopes of being able to make a headcount; though you fail, you’re unable to stop the shaky exhale that escapes you as you look back.
A loud crash rings far back, where the kitchen must be.
You can hear sounds of struggle— it feels as though someone has knocked the air out of your lungs, their voices and cries of pain sounding too familiar as you let Yeji’s arm around your shoulder drop.
Taehyun and Beomgyu.
When the fuck did they get separated from you? Did the killer sneak up on them? You’re ready to run after them before Yeonjun is pulling you back roughly, your back colliding with his chest as he places a hand firmly on your mouth; his fingers dig into your cheeks, your cries muffled as he urges Soobin to continue.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m just trying to keep you safe,” Yeonjun repeats against you, allowing Soobin to carry Yeji as he attempts to calm your struggling form; you wouldn’t even know how to get back to them, but it’s torture as you hear the indistinguishable sounds of struggle— your adrenaline is high and your vision seems blurry as you bite down on Yeonjun’s hand, pushing him away the moment he lets go of you.
You don’t care if it’s stupid, you can’t leave your friends to die while you selfishly continue.
You don’t know how, but you’re able to find your way back after a dreadfully long time, your frantic sprint slowing down to nothing more than a slow walk as you crouch down, your breaths shaky as you slowly peek out the hallway— you’re trembling horribly as you lean against the wall, attempting to ignore the way it’s all become eerily silent.
Slowly, your eyes adjust to the minimum moonlight that floods in; the glass door has been shattered, a pool of glass and rain left on the kitchen tiles as your eyes scan the open area slowly; furniture has been knocked over, Soobin’s pristine bookshelf nothing more than a pile of wood and collectibles and your eyes run over the area in terror— then again, again and again in confusion, unable to find the one thing you dreaded seeing.
Taehyun and Beomgyu are nowhere in sight.
“Hey!” Yeonjun’s voice has you jumping out of your skin as you spin around, slapping a hand to your mouth as he immediately grabs ahold of your other, tugging you along brutally as you’re forced to stumble to your feet, forced to follow around him as he immediately wraps an arm tightly around your frame.
“We need to get to safety, now’s not the time to worry about the others,” he hisses, and you’re only able to take one last glance behind you as your eyes land on something that makes your stomach drop and twist with dread.
A thick, bold path of blood is strung across the floor, leading clean out into the kitchen and out onto the porch.
Your mind goes back to your friends— and you find yourself biting back a cry, burying your head in Yeonjun’s chest as he swiftly leads you back the way you came— his touch is firm and comforting as he whispers soft apologies, able to empathize with you as his mind runs back to his own friends that he was forced to abandon tonight.
The stairwell he takes you down is extremely unnerving; you’re fumbling for your phone’s flashlight as you stumble down, the stairwell seemingly never-ending as you try to not let your paranoia and fear allow you to turn back.
Annoyingly, the basement feels like another home of its own— your flashlight shines on the lounge area, a minibar and a pool table left perfectly untouched as you scan over the couches next— you spot another door, the two of you carefully approaching it after having found the rest of the area empty.
Softly, you knock; the sound is barely audible, but as you press your ear to the door, you hear the distinctive sound of someone crying— your heart speeds as you recognize the voice that mumbles softly.
“Yeji,” you whisper, turning to Yeonjun with wide eyes. He’s signaling for you to turn the brightness of your flashlight down, your teeth sinking on your lip as you try to gauge what might be happening inside.
“It’s okay, I’m okay, don’t worry…” Soobin’s soft reassurances that echo through have the two of you perking up; before you can stop him, Yeonjun is swinging the door open, relief flooding his features as he softly tugs at you to follow along; he keeps you close to his back as your hands steady themselves on his body, peeking behind him as he guides you to where they are.
It’s a laundry room; you’re briefly peeking around before Yeonjun takes you deeper into the room, towards a small area where a makeshift wall has been made out of shelves. On the other side, you find the exact people you were looking for; only, the scenario seems to be less than ideal.
“Oh fuck,” Yeonjun hisses, crouching at your friends’ side in a haste. You’re shaking, a horrified sound leaving you as your knees knock roughly into the floor— your trembling hands hover over Soobin’s in terror, unsure of what to do as you press deeply into the wound of his stomach in an attempt to relieve the bleeding, your hands pressing his deeper as you feel the blood gushing onto you.
“Soobin,” you whimper, biting back tears as you examine the rest of him, attempting to ignore how open the wound of his stomach is, “Soobin, what happened?”
You don’t actually expect a response; you’re talking to yourself at most, your friend so light-headed that you watch his head tilt back, hitting the wall behind him with a soft bang as he lets out a shaky sigh. Your eyes are scanning the space around you frantically— there’s nothing that can really help him, but you try your best as your eyes land on a thin tee that’s been thrown into a laundry basket, your bloodied hands ripping it apart as you attempt to use it as makeshift bandages.
Slowly, you lift his shirt; you wince at the sight, your eyes forced to take in the deep and opened wound directly on his stomach, your hands dropping the bandages a few times due to how horribly you tremble— soft apologies spill from you, blinking away tears as you try your best to tie the bandages as tightly as you can.
“Yeji, what—?” Your words die on your tongue as you take in her state; she’s no better than Soobin, Yeonjun’s flashlight pointing right at her feet— specifically, her ankles that have been smashed, the skin mangled and bruised as they point at an awkward angle. Your eyes flit back up to her face, only to find that she’s swimming in and out of consciousness, eyes fluttering softly as a steady stream of tears leaves her eyes.
“Hunting gear,” Soobin pants softly, your head snapping back to him as you softly tell him not to speak. He shakes his head, the movement so minimal you almost missed it, and gulps, his brows knitting together as he takes a deep, shuddering breath.
“Behind… mini bar. A shotgun—“ your eyes are wide as saucers as you watch him cough weakly, blood spewing past his lips as he goes silent; the only thing that lets you know he’s still alive is the subtle rise and fall of his stomach.
“Yeonjun,” you say softly, his panicked eyes meeting yours, “The shotgun— I’ll go get it, stay here and look after them.”
His eyes widen more, if that’s even possible at this point, head shaking reverently as he takes a step away from Yeji’s side. Before you can leave, he grabs onto your wrist tightly, yanking you back as he frantically tells you that he’ll stay by your side. Attempting to dissuade him, you tell him that Soobin and Yeji need assistance— he only shakes his head once more, dark eyes not straying from yours for a second as he speaks.
“Think about it,” he mutters softly, leaning in so that the two on the floor can’t hear, “who do you think they’re gonna target next? Everyone else is gone. We’re the only ones left untouched. To go out there on your own is suicide.”
Briefly, his eyes flick to the floor; he’s contemplating what to say, biting at his cheek before he lets out a soft sigh.
“I care about you too much for you to be next.”
You feel winded as you stare at him— sincere, his hand refusing to let go as he looks at you tentatively— and nod softly, your free hand reaching up to gently pry his grip off you; you both try to ignore the way they’re soaked with Soobin’s blood.
“Yeah. Okay. Let’s go,” you say, knowing now is the worst time for such a confession to be sprung on you; you turn to go back to where the main area of the basement is, Yeonjun following behind you diligently before you’re stopping at the sound of Yeji’s voice.
“Please don’t leave,” she whines softly, eyes fluttering open slightly before they’re closing again, “please don’t… I don’t wanna die…”
You’re quick to spring back to her side; she’s fading to and from consciousness, her eyelids twitching as she rolls her head against the cool surface behind her. You know it’s a stretch, but you try your best to give her a reassuring smile as you go to hold her hands— only to stop, the drying blood on them making you wince as you place them back down on your lap instead.
“We’ll be quick, I promise,” you say softly, watching the way her eyes lock on yours; your stomach sinks, and the fear and panic you feel is reflected in her gaze as she weakly reaches out for you, her hand falling numbly on your lap as she lets out a soft sigh; she nods, closing her eyes as she goes back to unconsciousness, the weak rise and fall of her chest the only thing that’s able to get you to stand back up.
Yeonjun turns off his flashlight as you turn down the brightness of yours; your phone is pointed straight to the floor as you slowly make your way back out, Yeonjun taking a protective stance close to you as you scan every inch and corner around you, beyond paranoid as you jump at any slight sound.
Carefully, you look out the door; it’s barely cracked open an inch, your eyes carefully scanning the room as you finally deem it safe— your eyes quickly spot the bar, perfectly untouched as you remain hunched down, signaling Yeonjun to follow after you as you make a break for it.
You’re crouched down behind the counter when you finally see it; a shotgun, nestled comfortably under hooks that were placed on the wooden counter— wearily, you smile, placing your phone down as you reach for the gun.
It’s completely dark, and your hands run along the smooth expanse of the weapon as you fumble to get it out; behind you, Yeonjun fidgets nervously, his breaths deep and shaky as he watches you silently.
Finally, you manage to unhook it; your hands feel foreign along the expanse of the gun, unable to get a comfortable grip on it as you turn around to hand it to Yeonjun— your smile falters, your hands suddenly a lot more slippery as your eyes meet his in the dark.
In his hands, he holds what looks to be a rag; your eyes narrow, squinting at it before they flicker back up to him with dread.
That’s all he says before he’s launching at you, the gun knocked out of your hands and skidding across the floor as the rag is pressed firmly to your nose.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The heavy blanket is comforting as you shift for a second, trying to find a comfortable position before you’re frowning, finding yourself unable to move freely at all— suddenly, it all comes back to you.
Your hands are bound. You’ve been blindfolded.
You’ve been kidnapped.
Yeonjun. You want to scream, but your throat is way too dry for you to even speak. Something’s odd, though; your hands are bound, pressing tightly against the small of your back, but your legs are free. Tentatively, you sit up, unsure of what to do as you listen for any strange sounds.
You don’t know where you are, or what Yeonjun’s intentions are, but you do know that you need to get out. But god, how is that even possible? Biting at your lip, you feel your blindfold becoming wet with tears as the frustration builds up inside you.
“Hello, angel. Happy to see that you’re up.”
Your head snaps up at the sound, attempting to find the general location of the voice as your head turns frantically; he chuckles, the sound odd as you find yourself recognizing it as the voice modulator from the Scream movies. Frowning, you feel a surge of rage course through you.
“Yeonjun, you asshole, let me go!” You attempt to shout, your voice raspy and weak as you thrash around in the bed. Pausing, you listen to his mocking laughs, shaking with rage as you kneel on the mattress, wondering if you should just get up and try to charge at him— if you’re going to die, you might as well make an effort to escape before you do so.
“Now, don't be so haste,” He says, his voice laced with amusement; stiffening, your ears perk at the sounds of footsteps, slow and calculated before they stop right before you— you’re unable to hide the way you flinch as his hand tilts your chin up, a gloved leather hand holding you so gently despite all he’s done.
“Don’t you wanna have some fun before you die? Come on, I’ll make it painless,” he whispers softly, the voice raspy against your ears as you feel him lean in— instinctively, you lean back, unsure of what to do with this sudden turn of events.
“If you really make it fun, I’ll spare you,” He says teasingly; it seems as though your face has lit up at the idea, because another of his teasing chuckles reaches you, amused by your antics as you wait for him to continue hesitantly.
“We could make it a little game. If you win, I spare you; I call the police, let them deal with the aftermath while I run— then another game would begin. If you lose,” your breath hitches as you feel something cool against the underside of your chin— a knife, you realize, the point digging in as a threat as he slowly pulls it back, the blade brushing against your skin as he keeps your head tilted up.
“I get to keep you.”
You can practically feel your blood become cold; keep you? What kind of sick and twisted fate was that? You think you’d rather just be killed instead.
“What,” you stutter, thinking back to his options as you remain skeptical about it, “Why would you do that? What could you possibly gain from sparing me and calling the police on yourself? I know who you are.”
The words die on your tongue— your face must be easy to read, because his laughter is nothing but a heavy weight on you as you feel your mind racing with dread— what kind of game was he trying to play with you?
“Obviously I do,” your words may be confident, but your voice trembles, brows knitting together as you scoot forwards slightly; your legs dangle at the end of the bed, your feet hesitantly touching the floor; your shoes are gone, you realize, your sock-clad feet coming in contact with the smooth floor beneath you.
“How about we play a game then?” He’s backing up, his footsteps receding as you strain your ears in anticipation; you’re jumping at the sound of something scraping along the floor, the sound slow and heavy as you force yourself to stand, unsure of where he might be as you prepare yourself for anything that might come unexpectedly— you freeze, the room going quiet as you hear him sigh; rustling ensues, and a creak of a chair is enough to make you realize that he’s sat down.
“Three chairs,” he says, an evident smile to his voice as the soft click of a button is heard every time he speaks, “three people sit here. I’ll even let you guess who’s who. If you guess who the killer is, you win.”
Three people? Who could he possibly be talking about? You gulp, your mind racing back to Yeji and Soobin— your heart flutters, hopeful and uncontrollable, the thought of them surviving making your eyes sting. You want to call out to them— to make sure they’re okay— but before you can, the dreaded click of a button is heard, a static filling the room as he pauses before speaking.
“Come here, cutie.” You can only back away at his words, your legs hitting the back of the bed as you shake your head softly. He tuts at you like you’re a scolded child, sighing impatiently as he pauses; you hear nothing except the bored click of the modulator’s button, the chair creaking as your eyelids flicker underneath your blindfold.
Nothing happens— he hasn’t lost his patience yet, all movements ceasing as you’re left with an eerie silence— so with a heavy gulp, you find yourself standing once more, shaky legs taking a step forward hesitantly.
“Good girl. Come on, closer,” his whispers are soft alluring, like a siren as he directs you where to go, “yes, this way. You’re almost to the first chair; I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
At his comment, you stop immediately; all you get in return is a harsh laugh from him, unable to pinpoint what direction the sound comes from as you almost feel like he’s connected to a speaker of sorts. Again, his fingers fiddle with the button, the sound of clicks haunting you as you let out a shaky breath.
“I’m kidding. Or am I?” He seems to be having much more fun with this than you, but you’re forced to walk forwards again as his next comment sets you on edge.
“Come on, I’m losing my patience here,” He sighs, his voice gruff as you stumble forward once more. He chuckles, watching you struggle as he finally tells you to slow down. “You’re here. Come on doll, touch me.”
Your next step is curious; your foot touches the chair leg as you try to see where he might be, jumping softly as your foot knocks against a pair of shoes— he’s laughing again, and you’re frowning as his words register in your mind.
“How am I supposed to…?” Your hands are bound; you can’t see left standing stupidly in front of him as you try to decipher what he could possibly want you to do.
“Get closer to me, touch me. See if you can recognize me.”
You have no idea what to do; you feel ridiculous as you plant an unsure knee at the side of the chair, almost digging into his thigh as you try to position yourself; they’re unresponsive, oddly relaxed as you lean into them.
Hesitantly, you do the first thing you can think of; you’re leaning in close, your head resting against their chest as you concentrate. You don’t smell any perfume, and your lips drag along the expanse of their shoulders curiously— they’re broad and sturdy, not flinching even as you make your way back towards their neck— so clearly, it’s not Yeji, her petit form a contrast to the person beneath you.
Everything this man says could be a trick; this could be him, or it could be another of your friends, but the plain tee they wear isn’t reminiscent of what anyone was wearing, your frown deepening as your lips ghost up his neck— then up to his cheek, hesitant with all your movements until you stop your lips, ghosting eerily close to his.
There’s duct tape on his mouth.
You don’t need to linger any longer to guess that this isn’t the killer, and your suspicions are only confirmed as the voice begins to laugh mockingly at you again; the person beneath you doesn’t move an inch.
“I see you noticed something,” he comments, enjoying the way you scoff at his words, “but can you figure out who it is? I’ll give you a point if you do.”
You can’t help but get angry at this man’s idiocy, biting back your tongue as you hold back the urge to insult him; instead, you sigh, knowing that despite his light tone, there wasn’t room for you to say no.
Your lips ghost up to his cheekbones; your arms are turning awkwardly as you opt to lean back, attempting to feel his arm before you’re coming in contact with his wrist; they’ve been bound to the armchair, a tight hand around it as you attempt to feel his hand— but you choose not to, biting your lip as you almost lose your balance.
Hesitantly, you try to nose your way into recognizing his features; it feels intimate and wrong, terror seeping into your veins as you try to decipher who it might be. It isn’t until you feel the way his hair parts that you get a clue, your nose brushed with hair that clings to his nape as you go for one last feature you might recognize; hesitantly, your lips brush down his nose, feeling the way it’s smooth and rounds out perfectly at the bottom.
“Beomgyu,” you cry softly, your face burying itself in his neck as you allow a soft sob to slip out of you; the action is so familiar, but it’s nowhere near comforting as you wonder if he’ll make it out of here alive with you.
“How cute. I see you got along with him quite well,” his words are nothing more than an insult as you stand back up, wobbling to your feet as you sniffle weakly; bringing your shoulder up, you wipe at your uncomfortably wet cheeks, the blindfold tight on your face as it catches all your tears.
“How ‘bout I make it more interesting,” he muses, and you can already feel that he’s up to no good as he pauses dramatically, “I’ll let you guess these next too, but I won’t move at all. If you get all three right, you get a prize.”
You say nothing, your heart pounding with rage as you look down at the floor; he merely chuckles, fueling your anger as the dreaded click of the button infiltrates your ears once more.
“We’re here, to your right. Come to me.”
Slowly, you do what he says; your feet are hesitant as the wood floor creaks under you, only stopping the moment your foot collides with someone else’s. Hesitantly, you lean in.
It’s the same as before; broad shoulders, the body limp beneath you as you attempt to figure out who it might be. They’re lax, way too much if you think about it, your own body tense in contrast as you wonder if this might be it— if the killer might be here, under you.
Just as you did before, your lips brush closer to his, looking for the familiar duct tape you found on Beomgyu— only, nothing is found. Shaking, you’re leaning awkwardly as your hands quickly try to find his wrist— finding it, you grab onto it, your grip tight as you realize something angrily.
He’s not bound.
Carelessly, you lean in; sure enough, your lips ghost around his features, his sharp jaw and pointed nose giving it away as you lean in towards his ear— his piercings are still on, too.
“Yeonjun, I know it’s you, you bastard,” you seethe, waiting for him to spring into action; yet, he remains still, your chest heaving as you try to figure out if he’s stirred at all.
A moment passes. Then another, and another, and soon you’re frowning as you wonder what he might be up to. It’s only then that you remember his little game for you, scoffing as you sit up straight.
For a moment, you think of harming him; biting him, kicking at him, anything that could injure him while you’re still towering over him. But at the same time, you’re not strong enough— you still feel dizzy from the chloroform that was used on you, and the fatigue has only elevated from everything that’s happened today. Even worse, you’re bound and blinded— he’s free and is probably armed, and not to mention, is holding your friends hostage.
Begrudgingly, you find yourself standing up, hoping to get on his good side as you move to the next person; you have an idea of who it is, but your heart still thunders against your chest with worry as you lean in.
Everything is so familiar; he still has the bandages on his arm, his body warm and weak as you find yourself emotional again, slowly leaning in until you find your forehead resting on his shoulder.
“Taehyun,” you cry softly, your heart yearning to save the man you’d hopelessly been in love with for a while now; maybe, if you appeal to Yeonjun enough, he’ll spare your friends as well.
“Taehyun, I’m so glad you’re okay,” you cry, your body shaking as you feel him stir beneath you; he’s waking up, you realize, your heart pounding with dread as the thought of Yeonjun getting annoyed by him and possibly killing him floods through you.
Softly, he groans. He’s in pain as he shifts, his breath fanning on your cheek as you look up in his direction. It’s so quiet, and if you weren’t already straining your ears for the dreadful sound of the click of a button, you would’ve missed the way he weakly called out to you.
“You’re…” he sounds so confused, taking in your distressed state as you shake your head softly, urging him to not say a word.
“You’re… so sweet.”
His hands are on your waist before you can react; you’re planted firmly in his lap as you begin to tremble, the sound of the button clicks ringing so close to your ear making your head shake as you try to deny it all.
“Honestly, you’re precious,” he says, still mocking you before the sound of something being discarded on the floor sways your attention; you’re then being picked up and moved as you attempt to thrash in his grip, only for it all to fail as you’re tossed on the bed like a ragdoll.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any better, you prove me wrong.”
Sitting up, you’re quick to scoot back on the bed; your back is pressed firmly to the wall as you attempt to process everything, noticing that he hasn’t tried to chase after you. Instead, you hear his footsteps receding once more, the foreign sound of rustling making your ears perk before he’s walking back to you.
“But, Yeonjun,” you say, shaking like a leaf as you huddle against the wall, “he… wasn’t bound, and back in the basement—”
“You’d be surprised at the things people would do to save their own life.” He says, sighing at the way Yeonjun was quick to give everything up; he was never gonna chase after you after you had bitten him, and it was only when Taehyun managed to corner him while you tried to find your way back and threatened his life that he agreed to do his bidding— it only took a knife to get him scared straight.
“Bring her to me, and I’ll spare you.” He whispered to him, his knife ready to breach skin as it pressed to Yeonjun’s throat, “you have my word.”
Yeonjun’s only mistake was believing him.
So now here he stands, at the foot of the bed as he watches the way you begin to cry; his heart drops, crawling onto the bed as he quickly tosses the device aside, grabbing onto your legs and pulling you onto his lap; he disregards the way you jump at his touch.
“Oh no, don’t cry my angel,” he says, lips ghosting along your jaw as you mutter incoherent things, any will to fight drained as you process this betrayal— from Yeonjun, from him, “it’s not like they weren’t deserving of it.”
Taehyun is eerily observant; he smiles, kisses littering your jaw as his hands rub up and down your waist, a touch that would have you curling up shyly completely disregarded as you try to understand what he could possibly be talking about.
“You’ve seen it too, right?” He whispers, eager to prove a point as he’s leaning forward, more and more until he towers over you, your back hitting the mattress gently, “They don’t care about anyone but themselves. They don’t feel guilty for their actions, even when they’ve killed someone long before I did.”
Frowning, you find yourself speechless, your mouth opening and closing as you try to decipher what he could possibly be talking about. He’s close, so close, chest against yours as the bed dips next to each side of his head, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks.
“Do you remember Hueningkai? Poor kid, everyone said it was an accident— a careless overdose, they said,” your thoughts go back to Yeonjun, commenting on the high tensions as he told you of the loss of their friend, “but I knew better— they all thought it was just a joke until it was too late. They always fucking threatened me to keep my mouth shut or I’d be next.”
“What else could I do? They kept close tabs on me, and I only wanted to defend myself,” he whined, your body stiffening as you feel tears fall down your neck— he’s crying, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he presses his hips flush against yours, pressing you down the mattress as he lays his body weight on you.
“I was so scared,” he cries, shaking his head as his right arm goes down to find purchase on your waist, “they threatened me every day. Kept track of all my movements, made sure I never told anyone else. I was so scared when they started inviting you more.”
“I didn’t know how to get rid of them, but I wanted to keep you safe, I—” his hips roll against yours, a broken whimper falling from his lips as your mouth parts in surprise, “I’m so sorry. Will you forgive me?”
Please? Please will you forgive me? His words are a mantra as you find your heart pounding, a myriad of emotions swimming within you as you feel the way he breaks down against you. He’s a mess, the pleas so close to your ear as you feel the way he hardens against you.
You’re terrified. You’re worried, and you’re unsure of what to do because what the fuck have you gotten yourself into? It’s impossible to push past the way he’s adamant in his movements, his hips slow and calculated as you feel the way he presses right against your slit; desperate, broken, ready to show you how remorseful he is.
“I promise I never meant for it to go this far. I didn’t know how else to get rid of them, I was so scared that they might’ve had their eyes on you next, I don’t know what I’d do without you—“
“Please, will you forgive me?”
It’s too much. You don’t know where he ends and you begin, your mind swimming with questions and fears as you simply nod your head yes. Your throat feels dry as you do so, swallowing heavily as you shift underneath Taehyun.
“Yes. Yes, I forgive you,” you say, unsure of what else there is to say as Taehyun sniffles softly against you, hovering over you as his weight is lifted off your chest.
“Really?” He says quietly, his fingers dancing at the hem of your shirt as he waits for you to speak. You hesitate with your answer— there’s something else that he’s asking you, his fingers breaching past your shirt and softly caressing the warm skin of your stomach. He’s waiting, his eyes burning into your face as he only seems to be leaning in closer, closer and closer until his breath is fanning across your face once more.
“Yes. I forgive you.”
You don’t mean the words as much as you want to, as much as you wish that you did, even if your body and heart still yearn for him— but the adrenaline and fear within you have yet to disappear. It seems to be enough for him though, a fond laugh escaping him before he’s fiddling with the buttons of your pants, eager to take them off as he’s pushing your shirt up.
“I’m so sorry I scared you,” he whispers, remorseful and weak as his curious hands wander across the expanse of your hips, gliding around the hem of your panties, hooking a finger at each side before he’s slowly dragging them off.
“I just wanted to protect you.”
Slowly, his hand cups your pussy— you can’t help the way your face heats up, your mouth falling open at the sudden stimulation. Slowly, his middle finger strokes up and down your slit, his palm pressing down at your clit as he presses kisses gingerly on your chest.
You hold back a yelp at the way he bites you suddenly; he’s marking you, sucking and licking your breasts as he doesn’t bother to unhook your bra— opting to push it out of the way instead. He’s teasing you, working you up as you feel goosebumps rise on your skin. A soft sigh leaves you the moment he begins to tease your entrance, your legs shaking as you try to ignore the way you’re dripping wet for him.
“I’d do anything to keep you safe,” he mutters against your skin, lips making a trail up the column of your neck as he finally inserts two fingers inside you. The stretch has a weak whimper leaving you, your lips pressed tightly as you shiver at the way he pumps his fingers, slow and agonizing as he takes in the way your body becomes responsive to him, your walls squeezing and sucking him in.
“The last thing I’d do is harm you.”
His pace quickens; you hate how reactive and easy to read you are, because all it gets you in return is the amused comments from Taehyun that sound smug in your ears.
He’s far too good at this, you find yourself thinking, his pace quickening and turning much rougher than you anticipated. He’s got a single goal in mind, and it’s to make you fall apart before him, until you can’t remember anything but him. His change in attitude is unexpected, your brows furrowing as you bite at your lip, desperate to keep quiet despite the way your hips buck and roll against his hand.
Your body feels so hot, the coil that winds at your stomach only worsening as your legs squeeze around Taehyun’s hips, his lips planting a gentle kiss under your ear before he’s whispering his praises to you, stretching you open as his other hand finds itself at your waist, holding you down and pressing you to the mattress as he takes control over you effortlessly.
“Come on angel, you’ve been so good for me so far— cum for me, pretty girl,” his lips press a soft kiss to your cheek, his palm pressing itself back on your clit before he’s slowing down his pace, focusing on finding a rhythm that drives you crazy while he hits your sweet spot.
“I’ll make you feel so good, I’ll make you forget. Don’t you want that? Hmm?” You’re not sure if you’re able to register his words at this point, your fingers grasping at the bed sheets beneath you as you squirm and whine at his ministrations.
“Come on angel, show me how cute you look when you cum.”
Your body shudders as if it were under his control, drawing out your orgasm like it’s effortless as his fingers curl inside you, his lips stretching into a smile as he nips at your neck, continuing to stimulate you even after you begin to cry from the stimulation.
It isn’t long before he’s bringing you back up again, the sensation surprising you as he begins to rub at your clit cruelly, enjoying the way you thrash and cry at his actions. Even when you arch your back, your hands desperate to be freed, he refuses to give in, your soft pleas falling on deaf ears as your legs begin to tremble.
Before you know it, your hips are bucking again, distraught cries escaping you as you chant for him to keep going, your brain emptied as you forget where you are, why you’re even there. It’s endearing for him as you sniffle and whine, your hips stilling as you finally reach your high— it’s only when you go quiet that he stops, pressing tender kisses to your shoulders as his hands slide soothingly up and down your hips.
It takes a while before you’re grounded again; the rush of emotions is too much for you, and before you’re able to process anything, Taehyun is pressing against you, his tip warm and leaking against your entrance as he watches the way you flutter around him hopelessly,
“My pretty angel,” he sighs, pushing the tip in before he’s pulling back out. This goes on for a while, the feeling of him barely fucking into you frustrating as you attempt to push your hips towards him— he stops you, his grip bruising on your hipbones as he presses you down firmly.
“So perfect. So good, all for me,” his words are possessive as he finally pushes into you, a broken moan escaping him as he leans in to kiss you; you’re dazed, unable to do anything else but reciprocate as you take in the way he stretches you so well, filling you perfectly as his hips press flush against yours.
His pace is slow at first; uncertain, unabashed sounds leaving him as he takes in the way you feel so warm around him, the feeling of you squirming beneath him making his eyes roll back, your pretty mouth perfect and pouty as he resists the urge to fuck you stupid.
He only lets go the minute you begin to become reckless; the moment you try to meet his thrusts, he picks up the pace, a soft yelp escaping you as he takes in the sight before him; you look perfect, your body bouncing with every thrust as he finds himself straightening up, knees digging into the mattress as he drags you towards him— he’s fucking you senseless, and his head is spinning at the way you’re beginning to call out his name pathetically.
His hand quickly finds your clit; it sends you reeling, the feeling enough to have your mouth open in a silent scream before a broken moan escapes you.
“That’s it pretty, take it,” he sighs, hips snapping roughly into yours as he brings you back to another orgasm; you’re left defenseless to his insatiable needs, your body going limp as he continues to fuck you despite the way your walls hug him so tightly.
Your mind has gone blank— you don’t know what else to do but call out to Taehyun, his grip on you like a vice as he doesn’t falter for a second; but you feel so sensitive, as if you’ll fall apart if he continues like this.
“Taehyun…” you whine, your eyes squeezed shut behind the blindfold as you whine. Please. Please, please, slow, you chant, incoherent and a mess as he disregards you, using you to chase his high that is desperately within reach.
“My perfect girl,” he says, a grin on his face as you feel yourself clenching around him again, the sensitivity used against you as you feel yourself becoming winded up again, your body pliant in his grasp and eager to meet his commands.
“So sweet, so stupid,” he mocks, reaching up to rip the blindfold from your face; your eyes sting as you close them immediately, not used to the sudden amount of light as you slowly take your time to adjust.
“You have no idea how much I love you. Watching you take pity on me like that, fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back as he continues to fuck you at a ruthless pace, “shit, you’d believe anything I’d tell you, huh?”
Slowly, your mind registers what he’s saying. But the pleasure is fogging up your mind as your eyes finally adjust, fluttering open and meeting his own, pleased ones. His eyes are blown open, filled with lust and adrenaline as he slows down his thrusts to nothing but a roll of his hips. His bandage is still there, his wound still not healed as a fresh wave of blood paints the untouched fabric— he must’ve changed it at some point.
But what scares you the most are his clothes, covered with splatters of blood as his eyes narrow down at you carefully, his smile never leaving as he tilts his head curiously.
“So, it was all…” your words die on your tongue with a particularly harsh thrust, your body sliding against the mattress as he lets out an amused huff of laughter.
“Not really. The story about Hueningkai is real. They’re wicked people, and I was just doing what was right,” he says, pointy fangs revealing themselves in a wicked smile as he looks down at you, “but they didn’t know that I knew.”
Tears well in your eyes as you turn your head, wanting to look at your friend to make sure he was okay— but your face is quickly tugged back as Taehyun leans in, a frown on his face as he squeezes your cheeks together roughly.
“Don’t look at them. Look at me. I’m not done with you.” He’s ruthless as he works to wind you back up, his hips snapping against yours at a brutal pace as his eyes never leave yours, and vice-versa. His hand that was holding your waist down slides across your skin to circle your clit, an involuntary whine leaving you as you clench around his cock hungrily.
“There we go. Keep your eyes on me,” his voice is nothing but a sultry murmur as his eyes become lidded, leaning in close as his eyes savor the look on your face. “Look at me when you cum.”
His hand travels down from your cheeks to your throat, keeping your gaze steady as he begins to tighten his grip; you feel yourself becoming lightheaded, the overwhelming amount of stimulation breaking you as you feel tears sting at your eyes.
The sound you let out is broken and pathetic; your orgasm is strong as Taehyun lets go of you, the blood rushing back to you as your eyes never leave his, lidded and filled with lust as he groans at the way you clench around him.
He lets you ride out your orgasm; it isn’t until moments later that he’s reaching his own, your body too weak to fight the overstimulation as he cums inside you, warm and unending as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking and biting at the skin within his reach.
It’s quiet, and you’re left staring at the ceiling as the aftermath of it all begins to settle; your shoulders shake and hot tears stream down your face, the reminder of your situation a shattering realization as you try to pretend that the situation is not what it seems, that Taehyun is a good person.
Hesitantly, you glance back at the three chairs; they’re both still out, probably drugged as Yeonjun is now bound to his seat. They’re still alive, you think, a small relief as you wonder what it would take to escape from this awful home.
At this point, you’ll do whatever it takes to leave alive, or you’ll die trying.
Slowly, Taehyun sits up. His eyes are crazed as he stares at you, caressing your cheek tenderly as he then moves on to rub your thighs soothingly. He still hasn’t pulled out, his cum nestled deeply within you and beginning to leak out as he lets out a thoughtful hum,
“How many times did you cum,” he mutters to himself, tracing shapes on your thigh with his thumb as he becomes lost in thought, “let’s see…”
“I spare you, I spare you not,” twice when he fingered you.
“I spare you…” once on his cock. Then, another time while he was reaching his high.
“I spare you not.”
His eyes finally meet yours. He frowns, a pout on his face as he tilts his head.
“That’s a shame, I was getting quite fond of you,” he says, leaning in as he presses butterfly kisses along your shoulders, up the column of your neck before he places a tender kiss on your cheek.
“Unless you want to even it out?”
You suppose this is where you begin.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Introducing the Summer of Cum!
The Summer of Cum is a whole month of cum focused prompts for nsfw writers! Prompts are just suggestions; feel free to shuffle the order, or even write your own ideas. The purpose of this fest is to have a steamy, horny, wet summer.
Use the tag #summerofcum2023 so we can read your works!
Day 1 - Coming Untouched
Day 2 - Orgasm Denial
Day 3 - Free Use
Day 4 - Come Inflation
Day 5 - Facial
Day 6 - Coming in Public
Day 7 - Come Swallowing
Day 8 - Multiple Orgasms
Day 9 - Premature Ejaculation
Day 10 - Cock Warming
Day 11 - Cinnamon Bun (coming on a pregnant belly)
Day 12 - Coming Dry
Day 13 - Moneyshot
Day 14 - Prostate Massage
Day 15 - Come as Lube
Day 16 - Snowballing
Day 17 - Precome
Day 18 - Come Slut
Day 19 - Creampie
Day 20 - Orgasm Delay
Day 21 - Pillow Humping
Day 22 - Felching
Day 23 - Coming in Pants
Day 24 - Cuckolding
Day 25 - Ball Massage
Day 26 - Come Marking
Day 27 - Coming Without Permission
Day 28 - Ruined Orgasm
Day 29 - Loss of Virginity
Day 30 - Thigh Fucking
Day 31 - Free Choice
Imagine being high school sweethearts with kenny and quickly trying to have sex without getting caught because he’s so horny lmao like hes begging for some head round the back of the school lol
Don't Be Shy
I love love LOVE this request!!! Part 2 of YOU + ME and My Brother's Best Friend will hopefully be up by later tonight or tomorrow!! Please keep the requests coming guys, writing these are keeping me sane at the moment, the terrible twos are no joke 😭💀
"Baby, please? Not even a quickie?" Kenny whined at you, as you continued to walk down the school corridor, shaking your head.
"No way, Ken. After school, yes of course, but in school where we could get caught? Nuh-uh!" You replied and he frowned, pouting his lips at you and trying his best to give you puppy dog eyes.
"But watching you in Physical Education babe, god and the fact you swore that skort too, it's so short and your boobs and ass looked incredible! Please?" And he was back once again on his tangent of begging and pleading with you, and he was starting to wear you down, and he knew it.
"Okay, what about, we don't have to have sex, but maybe even a quick blowie out the back where no one is during class times?" Kenny asked and you paused for a moment, seriously considering it.
"I'll think about it." Was all you said, before giving him a quick kiss on the lips and making your way to class.
He had a free period while you were in art, and having most of your work done, you decided to toy with your overly horny boyfriend.
Y/n: Hey Ken, can I ask you a question?
Kenny 🧡: Yeah baby, what's up?
Y/n: So I bought some new lingerie a few days back and I only got round to trying it on yesterday evening, I took a few pics for you, I just wanted your opinion on them.
Attachment: 5 images
Kenny opened them and his jaw dropped to his feet, you were so good at taking lude shots of yourself, and you knew this would drive him crazy, his cock was rock solid, and that's exactly what you wanted.
Kenny 🧡: I think I want you to wait for me in the disabled access toilet on the first floor.
And you smirked scanning his message before putting up your hand and asking to be dismissed to use the bathroom.
Unbeknownst to you, when you got there the door was locked, and you tried the handle a few times, before the person on the inside unlocked it, opened it enough for you to be pulled in by their hand and the door was locked again as Kenny pinned you to it.
"You think you're funny, hmm? Sending me those pictures of you looking like you were just waiting for me to come in and tear them off you and remind you who this pussy belongs to." He said, his hand going straight up your school skirt and right to your wet panties.
You let out a small moan at the contact and Kenny slowly pushed you to the floor on your knees, unbuckling his belt and pulling his jeans and boxers down, his large cock springing free and sitting against his stomach.
"Suck." Was all he said, grabbing your hair that was tied in a high pony and moving your face closer to his dick. You grabbed it with your hand, your tongue licking the bead of precum off the tip before hollowing your cheeks and taking him as best you could into your mouth.
Fuck this was just what Kenny needed, he'd been longing for you, your mouth, your pussy, anything as long as it was you. And his moans were deep and breathy, as you bobbed your head, staring up at him with a gaze of innocence.
"So pretty, Princess. Looking so innocent with your lips wrapped around my cock." Kenny moaned out, his hips bucking forward causing you to choke slightly, and he smirked.
"What's wrong, can't take it baby?" He teased before setting a quick pace with his hips bucking forward, you could feel his cock hitting the back of your throat, saliva and precum running down your chin, your hands on Kenny's thighs as you swallowed around him, earning a strangled moan from him.
"Fuck, your throat feels so good, what a little slut you really are." Kenny groaned once more, gasping as your hands cupped his balls, massaging them gently, your cheeks hollowing around him, sucking as best as you could, your eyes watering.
"Gonna make you look like a mess, slut." He moaned out, his hips quickening and his thrusts starting to become sloppy.
"Getting close, baby, gonna come in your mouth and you're gonna swallow everything I give you, understand?" Kenny asked, earned a hum from yourself in response as his grip tightened on your hair, moving your head quicker to meet his rough thrusts.
"F-Fuck, y/n!" Kenny moaned out, his vision going white as he came in your mouth, his back arching slightly, your head still bobbing up and down his over sensitive cock, milking every drop of cum from him, and swallowing, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you smirked up at him.
His hand cupped your face, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "You have no idea the things I'm gonna do to you when we get back to my house." His voice was deep, and he offered you his hand to help you up, pulling you into a warm embrace.
"Thank you, baby. I love you." Kenny whispered into your ear, placing a kiss on your forehead before slapping you on the ass.
"Now get that pretty ass of yours back to class before we get in trouble." He said, and you laughed, a smile on your face, kissing your boyfriend before unlocking the door, sneaking out one after the other as Kenny walked you to your class, leaving you off with a kiss.
"I'll meet you at lunchtime." He said with a wink, before heading back to his free period.
Your teacher inquired as to why you had been gone for so long as you made up an excuse, saying you felt like you were going to be sick, but you and Kenny both knew that was was the furthest thing from the truth.
The Party Forgets Steve's Birthday
Thank you for the prompt @nburkhardt ! I hope it meets your expectations!
Steve was used to being forgotten. His parents regularly left for months at a time without regarding him at all, his old friends at school had only ever seemed to remember him when they wanted to use his house to throw a party, and his own girlfriend conveniently forgot about him when she chose to sleep with the guy that gave him his first concussion. He was well past being surprised when people neglected to think about him.
So he really shouldn’t have been surprised when everyone forgot his birthday.
He woke up the morning of his twentieth birthday to an empty house and an even emptier heart. Just like every other day, his parents were off on a business trip ignoring his existence. They hadn’t even left him a message congratulating him on making it to twenty, a feat Steve never thought he would accomplish. The mailbox was just as empty as it always was and it was like Steve didn’t exist to his parents at all. He didn’t know why he expected anything different. He’d been ignored, cast aside by them, his entire life and he still had the gall to expect things to change.
Steve had a shift at Family Video at 4 until close so he had to change out of his pajamas eventually. But right up until the moment he had to leave, he sulked from the comfortable nest of blankets on his couch. He grieved the loss of love from his parents that, looking back, may have never existed in the first place.
He also waited for his friends to call. Eddie, Robin, Nancy, or Jonathan had to know it was his birthday today. He’d told them enough times and Robin had called him a “troublesome Taurus” at least once. The older teens may not have enough excitement over just another birthday to come over to his house but surely they would call. But as time marched on, his phone sat silent despite his staring at it.
Well, he was seeing Robin at work so she was probably just waiting to tell him in person. And maybe the others were throwing a surprise party for him. The Party threw a birthday party for each one of the members on their special day so maybe it was Steve’s turn this year to be introduced to the tradition. After the horrific Spring Break from hell, he thinks he deserved it.
While the Party was fine now, this encounter with the Upside Down had been their worst yet. Max was in a coma for two weeks before she woke up but the repercussions of Vecna’s mind-melt were permanent. She was now blind and she still hadn’t managed to leave her wheelchair over a month later.
Eddie was ambushed by demobats and ripped apart even though his job was supposed to be the decoy that was out of danger. Steve had to give him CPR to restart his heart through the shock then had to sprint with him out of the Upside Down and into the nearest car in the Rightside Up, a car that he had to hotwire with Eddie’s minimal guidance. Then they had to clear his name with the police and townspeople that wanted nothing more than the outcast to go down for a crime he didn’t commit.
And Steve. While his injuries were less severe than the others, his skin would always show the scars from the demobats. His neck was still blemished and his abdomen was sunken where the bats tried to use him as a meal. Mentally, his self-confidence was gone and he had nightmares every night about the feel of the teeth tearing through his flesh. He almost didn’t make it out of there this time which made this birthday all the more special.
When he walked into the video store for his shift, all of the kids and Eddie were there. Steve had the brief thought that they were probably putting their final touches on the surprise party but that passed quickly once they turned to look at him.
“Oh look, your esteemed babysitter is here which means he can deal with you. Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to go hang out with other grownups instead of sticking around with you children. Bye now!” Robin told them dramatically, waggling her fingers in their faces. She turned to Steve, “hey Dingus, your children have been trying to rent a rated R film for the past twenty minutes. You deal with that while I go on my date with Vickie. Toodles!”
Steve didn’t even have time to say anything in response before she made her way to the back to clock out and left his sight. He was still watching where she used to be when he heard a throat clear. It was fucking Dustin, of course it was. The little bastard had a smug smirk on his face and wiggled his eyebrows.
“Gross dude, no. I keep telling you that it's not like that with Robin and I. Get your head out of the gutter,” Steve told him, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
“We can see how you look at her! It’s not rocket science, Steve. Just ask out the pretty girl already and stop being a lonely loser,” Dustin told him in a sarcastic tone. The other kids nodded while Eddie left to awkwardly look through the horror aisle full of movies he’d already seen. That fucker knew Robin was a lesbian and was just leaving him to suffer through this alone, on his birthday no less.
“Look, I’m not talking about this today and I’m not renting you a tape that’s rated R. Is that all you’re here for?” Maybe this was a ruse and they were going to shower him with birthday wishes.
“Oh come on! Eddie can rent it for us under his name!” Dustin whined.
“I said no.”
"But-" Dustin started.
“Whatever, let’s go guys. Steve’s just being an asshole today,” Lucas said from his spot near the door.
Will tucked his head down instead of acknowledging the asshole comment but still agreed, “we can go to the arcade!”
“Steve’s an asshole everyday. Today he’d just being unhelpful. If we wanted someone useless, we should’ve asked my dad,” Mike sneered at him.
Being compared to Ted Wheeler was too much for Steve and the brats were starting to give him a headache. “Whatever dipshits, get out of my store. Go bother someone that cares. Bye!”
With some angry mumbles and grumbles, they shuffled out and made their way to the arcade (or so Steve assumes). Eddie poked his head out from the horror aisle then and upon seeing the coast was clear, hopped up to situate himself on the counter. “You having a bad day then?”
Steve sighed, “yeah you could say that. They were starting to give me a headache.”
Eddie hummed and poked Steve’s leg with his toe. “What’s up with you today? You seem… mad. Did something happen?”
Steve wasn’t mad, he was disappointed. He was disappointed that he didn’t mean as much to anyone else as they meant to him. The Party was his family but he was just an inconvenience to them. That was a common theme in life and many people have told him that through the years. His parents, Tommy and Carol, Nancy, some of the girls he’d taken on dates. Every single one of them considered him to be an inconvenience at best, a disappointment at worst.
He really thought that he’d collected a good group of friends over the past few years that would treat him better, that didn’t just want to use him but loved him as he did them. Apparently not.
He said as much to Eddie. “Do you ever feel like you mean something to someone and then it turns out that you don’t matter as much as you think you do?”
Eddie’s face twisted and he pulled a chunk of hair to cover his mouth. But he still nodded slightly before clearing his throat and answering his question. “Um yeah, I feel that way around you guys all the time.”
Steve shot him an alarmed look but he continued. “It’s not meant to be a dig at you or anything! You guys have all been friends for so much longer that it just, it still feels like I’m an outsider still. You know?”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I feel like that too, man.” Eddie went to cut him off but he continued speaking. “No, seriously! It just feels like no one gives a shit about me even after all these years. Like, I woke up today thinking everyone was going to be calling me and coming over, just making a big deal all around, but no one did. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s ever done anything big for my birthday before but I just. I expected people to care this year.”
Eddie’s face slowly paled the more Steve spoke until his skin was practically translucent. “It’s your birthday today?”
“Yeah,” Steve chuckled sardonically. “I finally made it to the big 2-0. I kinda expected to have a party today since everyone else in the Party got one for their birthday but it’s fine. Even now I’m still just the babysitter, I guess.”
Tears started to well in Eddie’s eyes and he lunged behind the counter to give Steve a hug. “Stevie, big boy, I’m so sorry! You deserve so much more than just a party today, baby. And you’re so much more than just the babysitter. You’re family to all of us, man.”
Steve shrugged again, “maybe that’s the problem. My family has never liked me either so that’s probably the case here too. It’s fine, I got my hopes up and I shouldn’t have. No one’s ever cared before so why would they start now?”
Eddie went to speak but a customer came in. Steve took their presence as a sign and pushed Eddie gently away from behind the counter. “I have to go help them, Eddie. See yourself out, okay? I’ll see you later.”
And then he was off to do his job and ignore the fact that Eddie was still watching him with tears in his eyes. He had other things to deal with today than Eddie’s hurt feelings. Like helping customers and trying to stomp down the soul-crushing disappointment in his chest. After all, what else could he have expected for his birthday?
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A/N: wrote this cause I was bored<3 enjoy also no beta reader so sorry if it’s cringey ig.
Welcome home my Darling new neighbor (Wally Darling x Male reader) Yandere Fic
CW: Scopophobia, stalking, and kidnapping
Chapter 1: Welcome home website.
You lay on your bed in your apartment lazily scrolling through TikTok, you had just finished some college assignments and eaten dinner so you were bored and didn’t know what to do before bed. You noticed some videos about a company reviving an old 70’s puppet show named ‘welcome home’ there was art that was restored for the show itself, it intrigued you, the vast colorful array of characters, and the story behind the show itself and why it got canceled. Although there was one character that drew you in the most you didn’t know his name yet but he was the most interesting out of them all, he had yellow ‘skin’ and dark blue hair that was put up into a pompadour, through all the pictures you saw you noticed he was the one looking at the ‘camera’ the most, almost as if staring right at the viewer… Right at You… It was very interesting you decided to look up the website and look at it.
And so you searched it up and found it, the site itself was colorful and welcoming, but you got the nagging feeling that something was wrong as if something was staring at you through the screen. You shook it off, summing it up to nerves or superstition, you explored the site, finding out the reasoning behind the restoration of the show which you found heartwarming, and you found out the puppet that had you intrigued the most was named ‘Wally Darling’... “What a cute name, and he’s really cute himself.” you said truthfully a soft adoring smile on your face, the feeling of being stared at grew in intensity, and you decided to still ignore the feeling still notching it up to nerves… Yeah, nerves...
After reading everything and looking at everything on the site you closed the browsing site and looked at the time which was 1:00 in the morning, so you put your phone down and cuddled under your blanket staring outside the window for a bit staring at the stars, a smile curling up on your lips again. You felt your phone buzz and picked it up to look at the notification seeing it showed a random phone number had texted you, you opened your phone and opened messages looking at what the random number sent.
“Hello, Neighbor, how are you? What's your name?” The text read.
It seemed friendly and even comforting but the nagging feeling of being stared at came back, why did this person call you Neighbor anyway? Against your better judgment, you texted back… You didn’t know why but you did…
“My name is (M/N) and I am pretty well… Who are you?”
You patiently waited for a text back from the other person, and you didn’t have to wait long but the text that came back shocked you.
“Wally Darling is my name Neighbor, you have a pretty name I think it fits with your pretty face…”
“What do you mean? You’ve never seen my face??”
“Quite the contrary my Darling (M/N) I see you right now… your pretty (E/C) eyes are enchanting to stare into and your smile is even more breathtaking…”
You stared at the text frozen in fear, how… how did he know how your eyes looked?? This had to be some sick prank, holding back the bile threatening to come out you placed down your phone and searched your entire apartment… You found no one in it... No one at all... What the fuck was happening? You froze again hearing your phone buzz again…
Fear clenched your entire being, your mouth felt dry, you couldn’t move, you felt your heart beat wildly in your chest out of pure fear, and bile crept into your throat again threatening to pour out of your mouth you swallowed hard to try and keep it down. You flinched when your Phone buzzed again, your head slowly turning toward it in fear… you slowly walked back over to your bed and sat down. Hesitant to pick up your phone. You quickly picked it after the fourth Buzz and you looked at the messages he sent you…
“Friend, why are you searching for me where I am nowhere to be found?”
“No need to be scared friend, I won't hurt you.”
“(M/N) stop being scared and pick up your phone…”
“Friend I am nowhere to be found in your apartment please keep talking to me.”
you slowly and hesitantly wrote back a response…
“How did you know… I was looking for you… and how do you know what I look like?”
You kept the bile in your mouth down as best you could, for your body was completely filled with fear…
“Cause like I said I can see you… Don’t make such a scared face, c'mon keep giving me that adorable smile I saw before please??”
You were still shocked with fear, your mind began to become fuzzy and dizzy, and you laid down back on your bed, your eye’s feeling heavy. Before you completely blacked out you saw your TV turned on and something or rather someone came out of the TV and walked towards you and picked you up carrying you. That was all you remember before passing out.
A/N: lemme know if you want a second chapter or not lol
“Enemies to lovers” this “enemies to lovers” that. I raise to you:
ENEMIES TO FOUND FAMILY