#blood in his mouth and cobwebs in his brain | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

soobadnoonecanstopher · 3 months ago

Text

Rat Bastard - Part 2

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 8800

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Spiders (imaginary spiders in a fictional story, as fake as you can get)

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Not a single soul had spoken a word to you in more than three hours.

You’d spent the first two of those three hours watching saved Netflix movies on your phone. You still didn’t have any signal and after two solid hours of mindless television, now you didn’t have any battery either.

The third hour was spent laying on your bed, the one situated as far away from him as physically possible, in various positions of extreme unrest and terrible boredom.

Your latest position was an upside down pose with your legs propped up vertically against the wall and your head hanging off of the edge of this tiny bed. It was weirdly comfortable feeling the way the blood pooled deep inside of your brain and your view of this room flipped upside down, the ceiling was the floor now. If you walked across it you’d have several speed bumps in the form of fluorescent tube lights to contend with. One couldn't just walk straight either, there were a few big ceiling fans that might slice up your ankle at a moment's notice if someone happened to flip the switches on the walls. You wondered if the fans still worked. They all looked as if they hadn’t spun in years and you found yourself finding common ground with them for it had also been years since someone had flipped your switch and sent you spinning. You probably had a few cobwebs too. Maybe even some loose wiring.

You tried closing your eyes but this room, with its lifeless cement walls, was too still and too quiet. You started to hear new sounds the longer you existed in this perpetual state of oppressive silence.

You could hear your own heart beating inside of your chest. It was a noisy racket. You could hear your own annoyingly steady breathing and when you held your breath you could hear your absence of breathing and then worse, the count down to your eventual suffocation. You could hear that timer and the small grunts of your lung muscles fighting against your own death and the noisy gasp for air when your survival instincts kicked in and jump started your breathing again — your silly brain refused to let you die. Again and again you listened. A gurgle in your stomach paired with the twinge you felt with the growl. The sound of your throat constricting and the saliva that pooled inside of your mouth was swished backward and swallowed down your throat, temporarily closing up your ears and the sound of the pressure that changed as it went down. Every sound that happened inside of you was up for grabs. Every twitch and breath could be a source of some stimulation for your brain. Eventually your ears drifted further.

You could hear wind outside and some sort of groaning sounds of what you assumed was the building you were stuck inside the belly of, shifting and shaking with the strong winds outside. Even those sounds eventually shifted to the background of your focus and at the tail ends of the third hour you swear to God you began to hear him.

A small shift on top of his bed at the far end of the room. The quietest throat clearing. A rustling of, now, dry cotton fabric as blunt nails scratched three times over an itch on his skin. A deep breath pulled into his lungs slowly and exhaled through plump parted lips. Once you’d managed to tune into the sound of the air of his lungs, you heard another breath. A steady in and a steady out. A quicker, deeper pull of air as his rhythmic pace stuttered just a bit, and the eventual evening out again of his breaths. Was he asleep? Had that lucky bastard actually been fortunate enough to drift off to sleep and spare himself some of this agonizing boredom?

For absolutely no reason you could imagine, and there really was very little reason happening inside of you right now anyway, you could feel the pace of your own breathing even out. It felt almost involuntary the way you felt compelled; with his inhale, your lungs breathed in. With his exhale, your air left your nostrils and you pursed your own lips just a little, allowing some of the expelled air to pass over your tongue and slip over your lips. Your next inhale was perfectly timed again and you didn’t even have to think about the exhale; you were in sync.

It was absolute madness that you were paying attention to this. The only thing that saved you from actual insanity was that you were aware of how insane this was. The really insane people didn't know they were insane, right? This could be what you told yourself. This could be your absolution.

How much longer could you stand? You could always…leave, right?

You weren’t technically trapped inside of this room. Your mind was drifting through the memories of walking into this place following Sara who navigated the confusing hallways easily. She knew the way. You did not. You recalled walking by a few doors and many dark corridors with many large and mature spider webs in some of the corners.

You pictured leaving this room and walking with fake confidence. Just a harmless little journey. A bit of exploration without a flashlight, through some of the sections of this bunker that didn’t receive the benefit of the generator's power.

The exploration would quickly grow spooky with the soundtrack of the howling winds and the lifelike groaning of the building around you as you prodded on down an unknown path. And when you felt the first strings of sticky spider webs brush against your skin, you would soldier through them. When you felt the bigger, stickier ones attach to your arms and legs and lightly pull against you as you tried to take them off, stubbornly transferring them from fingers to hands and thoroughly coating you so that no amount of flicking could shake them loose and when shaking turned harder you’d only gather more webs. Your cool exterior would crack as the panic set in. They would cover your arms, your torso, reaching up to your neck and your face. And by the time the spiders came out, with their pokey legs and their angry jaws sinking down into your skin, the screaming wouldn’t help any. Screaming would only give them another dark and damp orifice to crawl inside of and bite down, giving you some sort of tongue infection caused by their venom that didn’t even have a cure yet because the scientists that study spiders hadn’t had a chance to reach this part of the world to develop their anti-venom yet. Your tongue would turn black and fall off. The spider would lay eggs inside of your windpipe and burrow into all of your tubes, spreading their venom and eggs and crawly legs and biting jaws and you would die an agonizing death, alone in the darkness.

You reached a hand up and scratched at a tickling sensation you felt on your arm. You swear to god you felt the slight tingle of tiny traveling legs the more you pictured trying to leave this room on your own just because you were bored.

What would your obituary say? ‘A testament to her generation’s short attention span, she couldn't tolerate even the slightest bit of boredom. She bravely ventured out into the darkness where she was eaten alive by man eating spiders just for something to break the monotony.’

You heard a real sound. The genuine squeak of old mattress springs compressing on the far side of the room. The squeak was more than just someone shifting in the bed. This was a squeak of real movement. Kyungsoo was moving.

You heard the push off of a body from the bed, followed by shuffling footsteps moving in your direction.

You turned your head to watch him. From your vantage point he was defying gravity and walking on the walls of this upside down room. The silent man caught your eye for a second as his hand landed on the doorknob and he pulled it open.

“Where are you going?” You couldn't help yourself. You had given yourself the heebie jeebies with all the spider thoughts and even though he sucked, he was the only other human being here that you could use as a spider shield. Surely they would go for him first. He smelled good and had soft smooth skin, easier for tiny fangs to bite into. You’d already planned on pushing him through the webs first.

“Out,” he said flatly.

You tossed your legs away from the wall and sprung to life. Leaping to your feet, you reached the door before it slammed shut and you pushed yourself through the opening taking several frantic steps to catch up with him.

Your steps were very quick. You were fueled by fear as you moved and you hadn’t been paying attention enough to his steps to catch the moment he reacting to the sound of you coming up behind him.

He stopped walking forward before you had a chance to shift and you embarrassingly hurled yourself into him, bouncing your chest right off of the warm, solid wall that was the back of the man. You hadn’t braced yourself at all. Your nose bumped against the back of his head.

You bounced off of him with a surprising force. Why did he have to stop so suddenly like that?

You stumbled when you hit him and took three tiny steps back to keep your balance upright and covered your nose with your fingertips. You managed to keep the small yelping sound from the impact concealed under your hand but it felt implied with the obvious thud of both of your bodies hitting together.

Kyungsoo spun around halfway and looked into your surprised face.

“Where are you going?” His eyes bounced against your face lightly and you quickly closed your wide-open mouth and dropped the hand from your nose.

“Out,” you said with a shrug and a tiny lift of your chin.

It wasn’t as if you weren’t allowed to leave, right? You didn’t need to stay back there in that room all alone. You had been planning on venturing out all along. You couldn’t help it if you just happened to leave at the exact same time that he left, and you just happened to be traveling in the exact same direction that he was traveling in.

His eyes narrowed on you for a moment, no doubt jumping to his own conclusions.

You stood your ground, crossing your arms over your chest to really sell it and you did your best to ignore the light tickle you felt running up your leg just above your sock. Spider. Big hairy spider crawling. The second he gave up and turned back around, resuming his forward momentum, you reached down and swatted away whatever it was you’d imagined crawling on you.

Your hand came back empty which you took as a good sign. You hadn’t squished something with a belly full of a hundred eggs against your leg. You didn’t feel the scattering feet of thousands of tiny babies crawling up your leg, under your shorts, seeking refuge in your own personal orifices.

While you’d done an excellent job of matching his breathing pace back inside the room, you were doing a shitty job of walking at the exact right speed to keep up with his quick legs. He wasn’t outright running away from you but he was definitely putting some cardio in right now. This was the pace of a speed walker at least. You caught up to him though and you even managed to read his posture enough to catch yourself from running into him again when he abruptly stopped and turned fully around to face you again.

His eyes were wide and his eyebrows were raised.

“Stop following me,” he warned with a low voice. Yes, yes. The very menacing man is very threatening. You tried not to visibly roll your eyes.

You simply shook your head and shrugged your shoulders in full denial.

You had no idea what he was talking about. The man was losing his mind. You were just out for a stroll. This was a big coincidence and frankly he was acting silly with his suspicions of you.

“I’m not following you. I’m just…going out.”

“Going where?” He challenged.

“Out.” You countered, “Out. Out of the room, just out.”

He definitely seemed like he had a destination in mind as he moved. You wondered if he got some sort of a grand tour of this place that you didn't get before you arrived. He knew you were full of shit, and you knew you were full of shit, but of course you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. You wanted to see what he was up to and where he was going because you were not about to be left back there in that silent concrete tomb all alone while he explored and adventured over here doing who knows what.

You’d gathered enough to know that he was headed toward whatever room was behind that solid big blue door at the end of this hallway.

You were going to witness it. You needed something. Anything.

He gave up again and he was moving.

You were on his tail, stepping inline right beside him where he walked so you could pry some intel from him. He obviously knew more about this place than you did.

“What’s in there?” You asked, pointing to the blue door.

“Kitchen.”

“Ooo, a kitchen.”

You reached for the handle when he reached for the handle and you pulled at the door when he pulled at the door. You pushed yourself through the narrow opening when he pushed himself through the narrow opening and you found yourself shoulder to shoulder with this man as he pushed hard against you, trying his absolute best to beat you through this doorway. You weren’t about to just let him have it. The struggle made you grunt and you could feel his body tensing beside you. The struggle turned into a silent shoving fight of hands, elbows, and fingertips; causing you both to get stuck right in the middle of the doorway. The hard wooden door frame on one side of you and a brick wall of a man’s shoulders and thick biceps on the other side of you, pushing you back, forcing himself to move through the doorway before you could manage, with sheer brute strength.

He grunted and pushed back harder and he popped out on the other side of that doorway first.

He won.

You wrinkled your nose and scowled at him, deciding then and there that if it came down to it, he was getting fed to the spiders.

Beyond the doorway the room opened up into an industrial looking kitchen space. It was lit up and to your surprise was occupied with five people. Five whole people were in this room. Their surprised heads turned to look at the doorway the moment the door opened and five people witnessed the fight to get through the doorway with varying expressions of curiosity on most of their faces. Two faces, the two people you found most familiar here, Sara and Mr. Chen had different looks in their eyes. More amusement than confusion.

“There they are! You two are right on time.” Mr. Chen smiled widely with a note of excitement in his tone that you struggled to return with your greeting. You felt too caught off guard with what seemed to be happening inside here.

In here Doh Kyungsoo was a different person. The shift was jarring. He was friendly and smiling and bowing politely, shaking the hands of the three other people in the room. Making their acquaintance. Being very pleased about it. Catching their names and using them immediately to commit them to memory.

He was grabbing a stool and pulling it up, taking a seat around the big stainless steel countertop as if he knew it would be there and he knew something was coming.

Your feet were slower to follow him in here. The more you looked around you began to notice details. There were bags of supplies on the counter. Nothing bad there. Enough food and goods to get you all through the week without being able to leave this place. Pots and pans and kitchen utensils were on the stoves and you could even smell something delicious cooking in here. Aside from the kitchen equipment, you also saw bags, small office supplies for writing. A few had power banks charging their phones. There were wired earpieces unwound on the tables and a portable radio that was on low, giving some weather related reports.

There was a big white board with scribbles on it. The moment your eyes zeroed in on it someone else cleared their throat and another person grabbed the whole thing and flipped it upside down. You were still able to make out your name written there before it was flipped. Below your name, a small list with different bullet points. Details about you. Very basic things. None of it bothered you much. What did send a wave of annoyance though you, was the other column with Kyungsoo’s name written atop and a matching bulleted list. In all other instances that would have also been fine. The real issue you had was the single red hand drawn heart that sat in between both columns.

Someone in this room, maybe even all of them, had been crafting a scheme, it seemed. A scheme that warranted a red heart. It seemed that the five of them thought they were still working on a love match, despite the hurricane outside, despite the change of setting, despite the fact that there was no way…not even if he was the last man on this entire island… not even if the rest of the world ceased to exist and it was up to the two of you to repopulate the human race or it would face extinction…there was no way. RIP to humanity.

Your eyes reached for Sara. She avoided you as you expected she would. The single sheet of hand written paper she held in her hands was her excuse.

It seemed that they had been working hard to prepare something for you both. A fact that surprised the hell out of you given the current limitations and the unusual circumstances, but something that struck you as even more shocking was the nonplussed expression on Kyungsoo’s face. He merely sat down on the stool, chatted with one of the staff members who was preparing some dish on the other side of the counter and acted like he did not find a single thing about this puzzling.

The howling wind outside grew louder for a moment and the lights flickered.

”Okay then. Let’s get started shall we? The first thing on the itinerary that I’m sure everyone has read, the first event tonight is dinner. And of course the meals you will enjoy will be a fine dining experience. Made with locally sourced ingredients and freshly made in house. Luckily Javier, our head chef and our wonderful staff here prepared for such an emergency situation and even though we may be temporarily displaced here in this shelter, we will do our best to give you the most authentic Shifting Sands experience we are able to. Whatever we are lacking in facilities, we hope to make up for with our passion and sincerity.”

Wait a minute, there was an itinerary?

You never got an itinerary. You looked down at Kyungsoo and where he sat leaning his elbow against the countertop and the man seemed much too relaxed in his posture for him to also not have an itinerary. In fact he was the one who came here at the exact time that this event had been scheduled to take place. Not only did he have an itinerary, but he also had planned on coming here for a fancy schmancy dinner without telling you about it; and even had gone out of his way to dissuade you from following him here.

Mr. Chen continued speaking, “Now in the grand fashion of the Shifting Sands Resort. In spite of the unconventional kick off of the Seventh Annual Singles Retreat, and in accordance with the fine print, A. K. A. the terms and conditions that you both agreed to and signed during registration—”

You leaned just a little bit so you could ask Kyungsoo a question without the rest of the group hearing and without interrupting the explanation of what today’s dinner menu would be. It smelled delicious and you were sure you would enjoy whatever they gave you. You’d been getting pretty hungry actually. You hadn’t had a thing since the snacks on the airplane and you’d been trying to ignore your own stomach growling for the better part of three hours since you weren’t sure what kinds of emergency provisions this place had been stocked with. Now that you could smell the food you actually began to relax a little bit. You even spied some alcohol in one of the corners. Some tasty high end food and some cocktails sounded like exactly what you needed right now.

“I didn't get an itinerary,” you whispered over his head, “did you get one?”

Kyungsoo heard you but did not look up at you. His eyes remained fixed on the man in the suit giving his talk.

“Mhm,” he mumbled.

Mr. Chen continued. You admit now you may have missed a bit, “…and your partner will complete a series of fun activities designed to test…”

”So you knew this was going on and you didn’t tell me?” You gasped with the realization of his dirty trick he’d tried to get away with, “You even tried to leave me behind back there!”

“bring you both closer…”

”It's not my job to take care of you, Princess.”

You stretched your hands out toward him but stopped just short of making any actual contact. You did, in great imaginative detail inside of your mind, bring your hands right up to him and wrap them tightly around his exposed neck, letting your fingers dig into the sensitive and squishable windpipe that supplied this man with oxygen and allowed him to say such rude things to you; shaking and squeezing hard enough to get him to make that satisfying ‘GAK GAK GAK’ sound just before the lights went out.

“…and of course, the ———— the specially prepared five-course meal our head chef, Javier, has ready for you. It smells delicious doesn't it? If you don't eat it, we certainly will.”

Mr. Chen and company were all giggling amongst themselves.

Your hands were still raised for attack when Kyungsoo looked up at you but you were quick to drop them and hide them behind your back as you pushed a sweet smile up to your face. If he had noticed your murderous thoughts he didn't mention them because he was looking up at you with his big brown eyes as if he had something else on his mind entirely. Why was he suddenly interested in what you were doing? Why were his eyes so clear and big?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he whispered under his breath. Whatever it was seemed to have shaken him up a bit. You suddenly wished you had been paying more attention to tonight’s menu.

The next words Mr. Chen spoke sent a chill down your spine.

“If you lose, you’ll face some stiff penalties.”

Wait a minute…

“Although you will still have a chance to win some basic ingredients with certain…limitations attached to their use. Break those rules and you lose ingredients one by one. If you aren’t careful you could find yourself dining on plain white rice tonight.”

He couldn't be serious. You’d agreed to this in the registration terms? You had to be imagining this. Maybe you’d gone mad with hunger.

“Dammit. Son of a— ” Kyungsoo was still having a dramatic reaction under his breath. There was cursing. For once you agreed with the man. There was no way you had agreed to this.

He was standing up and he reached a warm hand down and he grabbed ahold of your wrist, pulling you toward the side of the room with an oddly serious look in his eyes. You hadn’t expected to suddenly be manhandled so your legs reacted with hesitation. He had to pull you a little bit harder to get you to actually move but you protested, “What? What’s happening?” You were unprepared. You felt more confused than you were hungry, if that was even possible.

“Were you even listening? This is why you don't have an itinerary. Come on, we have to win dinner. I’m so damn hungry.” With his complaint, your stomach sounded out in agreement as it growled noisily enough for him to hear it too. “Good, maybe you’ll be motivated enough to cooperate.”

“Cooperate? What are we even doing?”

“Games, Princess. Are you slow? We need to play together and win the right to eat that dinner they’ve got us smelling.”

The games, had your partner been anyone else but him, would actually have been fun. They might actually even be something you could win.

You couldn't wrap your brain around feeling bamboozled. When you raised your hand before the first game to ask, “Excuse me, I never got an itinerary,” the upward inflection at the end made it sound like you asked a question and Sara, who had been setting up for a game, was the one to respond.

“Each pair received one itinerary to share,” she said as she moved to another table where she filled a big plastic bowl with cotton balls. She lifted an index finger and pointed at Kyungsoo. “He’s got it and was told to share it.”

His big eyes looked at you and then away from you. Between your hunger and his crimes against you, you couldn't bring yourself to say anything to him. You felt on fire inside.

It had been sabotage after all. This was who he really was. The more you learned, the more you wondered if the universe had saved you that day you’d been stood up by him.

There was a game involving little plastic spoons and cotton balls, the object of which was to work together to scoop up cotton balls while wearing a blind fold with a spoon held between your teeth and place them into a bowl on top of the other person’s head. It required both parties to get close enough to each other to be able to feel where the bowl was. The goal was to get five cotton balls in the bowl. Five cotton balls and you would eat dinner. Just five. This could have been so easy if only you could trust yourself to touch him without wringing his neck.

When time was called and you removed the blind fold you had a single lonely cotton ball inside the bowl on top of his head. His skin was flushed and he looked slightly damp from the effort. He wouldn't meet your eyes. His straight black hair was tousled on top of his head and it laid in a way that was infuriatingly attractive for how much of a scoundrel he was.

The second game was an instant loss. It was some sort of a trivia game in which you had to act out the name of a popular song for him to guess. The man did not know a single of the top 5 hits making their rounds on social media right now. The next round was him acting out the titles of popular animated movies. You hadn’t watched an animated movie since The Land Before Time betrayed your trust and scarred you for life.

The last and final game was back-writing. He drew something on a sheet of paper stuck to your back and you had to guess what it was. He was allowed to choose his own drawing.

It started out well enough. You were 80% sure it was a pair of eyes. Something with a pair of perfectly round circles. Not too big, not too small. There was a smaller round circle in the center of each bigger round circle and there was something wrong with you when he drew the next part. It should have been something easy, something with a face, but there was something strange you were feeling coming out of the tip of his marker.

Something that threw your mind back to more than three hours ago, the little bickering fight you had with him in the room. His wet shirt and muscles below the shirt. His toned and defined bare chest and — and yours. Your transparent top. That comment he made about your wet t-shirt and about just how much he had been able to see of you. The red hot embarrassment you felt when you realized he had seen everything. You’d dwelled on it for a significant amount of time during the time spent upside down on your bed in solitary confinement. His marker was making a double sweeping motion below the circles. The shape of your breasts below your round areolas and perky nipples in the center. There was no mistaking it. You felt your face grow hot. Your breathing quickened and you could feel the upset brewing inside of your belly. How dare he?

Nipples.

Nipples in the center of breasts. No doubt as seen through a wet transparent pink t-shirt and a very sheer lace bra.

Was this man drawing your own nipples on your back?

You gasped out loud at the thought and before you could control yourself you whispered out a scandalized, barely audible guess.

“N-n-nipples?”

“What did she say?” The two people across from you were whispering to each other. “I think she said nipples.”

“She didn't say nipples.”

“She definitely said nipples.”

Kyungsoo’s marker had stopped drawing. You turned around to look into his face, spinning further in some foolish attempt to see the paper that was stuck to your back in the process.

“Did I get it? Did you draw my nipples? Just to fuck with me, right? Because you saw them earlier?”

Kyungsoo’s jaw was clenched and his marker was still hung in the middle of the air. His face was pink and his eyes were closed.

“My nipples, she said. My nipples. He saw her nipples earlier”

After a few seconds he lifted a hand to run over the length of his own face and he reached for the cap of his marker, quickly covering it and tossing it onto the table in front of you with a noisy clatter.

You were straining, reaching behind you to grab the paper with your fingertips. You ripped it off and quickly brought the paper around to look at it.

It was Pororo. The little cartoon penguin from the children’s television show. It was a pretty good likeness. He did a great job. It didn't resemble a pair of tits at all.

You were a fool.

Across the room, you heard the squeak of a dry erase marker. Someone was writing something on the white board. Sara had made a note below the little red heart that sat in the center space between your names.

- he saw her nipples

“I saw his nipples too. Put that down.” You had your finger lifted and you were pointing at Sara. After a few seconds of her looking at you she turned back around and the marker was squeaking again. She placated you and made it even again. You were temporarily satisfied to see, ‘- she saw his nipples too,’ written below the heart.

“I think one of them is more significant than the other.” One of the staff members, Jun spoke up.

“That’s what I said,” Kyungsoo said in agreement.

“Right?” Jun was going now. “I mean a guy’s nipples, that’s everyday stuff. But when a guy sees a woman’s nipples…that’s first base at least.”

Sara was squeaking again. Long slow squeaks. She was circling the ‘nipples’ bullet points. Beside it she wrote “1st base.”

“Wait a minute,” you spoke up, “how is that first—”

“That's not—” Kyungsoo started to object too.

”Okay,” You were both interrupted by Mr. Chen, clapping his hands together, “let’s move on. So you lost the game. That means we get to eat the five course dinner Javier has prepared.”

Another squeak sounded out as Sara flipped the white board over, effectively ending the discussion that the two of you probably weren’t ever supposed to witness anyway. Heads were nodding around the room. You were outnumbered.

Soon you were distracted by a new task he was explaining.

“Not to fret my lovelies, We still have a kitchen loaded with fresh ingredients for you to win. These games will be easier. I’m not a monster,” He was laughing to himself.

Kyungsoo had come to stand by your side and was leaning in to whisper something to you as you tried to pay attention this time to Mr. Chen’s instructions.

“I need you to stop fighting me if we are going to eat anything. We just need a few things and I’ll cook something good. Can you just be nice for like an hour?”

Was he asking you to make a deal with the devil right now? Yeah you would win these ingredients but you weren’t about to forget how he revealed the incident with your nipples during the drawing game.

“You didn't have to do that…talk about the nipples thing like that.”

You felt his hands on you then. He had gripped you by the arms and he spun you around so you could look into his face. His eyes were wide and his expression was deeply, deeply flabbergasted.

“Are you stupid? You did that. You did it. I drew Pororo. I never said anything about your goddamned nipples. They would never have even known about your nipples if you hadn’t said it.”

Oh he was heated. He must also get grumpy when he is hungry.

But he was right. His eyes were full of fire and passion and you replayed the recent betrayal again in your head. You remembered Pororo now. You had just been in such a rush to blame him for everything that you forgot yourself for a bit. You felt like maybe your brain didn’t work right around him. Maybe it had been the strict no carb, low calorie diet you had been on for the month before this trip. You’d packed plenty of sexy bikinis and you’d finally reached a level of confidence in your body at the expense of your own health to wear them. This was supposed to be a beach vacation, afterall.

“Oh yeah, sorry. Yeah that was a good Pororo. I’m just so hungry, I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

The fire in his eyes went out and his expression softened a tiny bit. If you hadn’t been watching his face so closely you might have missed it, it was so subtle. He was looking very closely at your face. His frustrations were replaced with something else entirely. Something you’d never seen before. Something you didn’t feel comfortable commenting on here. You didn’t need that kind of observation written down anywhere that could come back and bite you in the ass later.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

You closed your eyes with his difficult question. You couldn’t remember times anymore. You’d changed too many time zones to get here. “Barracuda,” you whispered with a little head shake. You really did feel awful. You could feel a sticky dampness on your skin.

“Hey, can she get like a banana or something, I don't think she’s okay.”

You’d had something shoved into your palm. Something sweet to eat. You lifted and you took bite after bite, chewing and swallowing and you were steered to sit down. Sara was beside you as you slowly began to feel human again and you looked up into all the faces in the room, admonishing yourself for seeking out one face in particular. You had no business looking for him first.

“I’m okay now. Thank you, Sara.” You patted the back of her hand twice and you stood up, keeping careful control over where your eyes wandered. Sara seemed to be looking at you much too closely and after a few moments she looked behind her where Kyungsoo sat on his nonchalant stool with his nonplussed elbow propped up on his aloof countertop as he waited for you to get your shit together already so he could eat something at some point tonight. She looked back at your face with a slight narrowing of her eyes before she was standing up and making her way back over to that goddamned white board.

You had to ignore the squeaks. She was reading into things again. She had watched way too many romantic comedies and read too many romance novels.

Mr. Chen was explaining the game as her marker squeaked and squeaked and before you had the chance to read what she wrote, the whole board was flipped around again. You’d caught enough only to notice another two entries had been made into the love column between both of your names. You had no idea what she added, and the curiosity was probably going to give you an ulcer.

Mr. Chen wasn’t exaggerating when he said that the games for the ingredients would be easier. They were laughable really; very basic trivia questions that either of you could have answered back in elementary school. You both soon had a pile of things that Kyungsoo would surely be able to spin up into something amazing. You’d never tried his food before but Claire had once said one of his dishes had almost made her leave her husband, so you were sure it was about to be good.

You should have been more on alert. The games were too easy, you should have known that this psychopath Mr. Chen had something up his sleeve.

“Now, If you recall earlier I mentioned that these ingredients that you won come with certain …limitations to their use,” He was explaining again.

“Only one of you will be allowed to handle these ingredients and cook them,” He said.

The limitations were just that. You were both made painfully aware that the use of these ingredients carried with them the extra rule that only one person would be able to cook.

Well that was easy. Kyungsoo would cook. He was literally a chef. You weren’t that great in the kitchen anyway. You could do very basic things but nothing fancy like he could do. Just when you’d allowed your posture to sag a little bit Mr Chen hit you both with the other half of the rule.

“And the one who cooks, will have to be blindfolded as they do it. Whoever is not cooking will be allowed to see, allowed to speak, and allowed to touch the other person, but none of the ingredients. Only the cook will touch the ingredients and as long as ingredients are touched, the cook must remain blindfolded. Any ingredient the non-cook happens to touch will be forfeited. You will have one hour.”

There it was. You felt so very tired.

You felt blindsided. This was ridiculous. One glance at Kyungsoo told you he had similar thoughts about this. It was evident now that those easy ass games to win these ingredients was a sham and the real game was starting right now.

Kyungsoo had reached your side and you could feel the warmth of his arm as he leaned in beside you.

“So, I guess I will cook. You’ll be the one telling me what to do. This isn’t my kitchen, but just tell me where things are and it might work. You wouldn’t,” his eyes narrowed at you and he lifted a finger to lightly gesture in your direction, “you wouldn’t try and actually kill me, right?”

“Kyungsoo,” you rolled your eyes at his silly question, “I promise I will not intentionally kill you today.” It was the best you could do. You were about to blindfold this man and give him fire and blades. You would probably do your best.

“I guess that’s the best I’m going to get. A flimsy promise.”

You had a sudden thought and you reached for his arm, pulling him back from the pile of ingredients he was examining as he got the kitchen area ready.

“I just had the best idea!” You heard your own excitement. “Let’s just eat the ingredients raw. Like a salad maybe.” You’d been looking at the mounds of veggies, you saw zucchini, lettuce and tomatoes, Picking up the mandoline and pretending to slice the cucumber as you added, “Sometimes you need to eat an entire cucumber,” with a giggle. He didn't laugh. He didn't get it.

He looked at your face and shook his head back and forth. He was not online enough to get the reference.

“Are you a grizzly bear? Eat this raw?” He asked bluntly while motioning to the entire fish complete with head, scales and tail fins that laid on the countertop in front of him. “No way am I wasting this. Look at its eyes. This was caught this morning. Right Javier?”

“Yes, Chef Doh!” Javier shouted in excitement from the big table where the crew, Mr. Chen, Sara, Javier and the two younger staff members, Jun and Roxy, were already eating the fancy dinner, just as Mr. Chen had promised they would. It looked and smelled delicious and you frowned toward Kyungsoo, giving in, out of defeat to whatever maniac-esque idea he had about cleaning and cooking this entire fish while blindfolded.

“Just because I’m eating doesn’t mean I’m not watching you two. Remember the rules!” Mr. Chen shouted across the table between bites, lifting his steak knife and pointing it toward you for emphasis.

Kyungsoo had his blindfold on. You waved a hand in front of his face to make sure he couldn’t see anything and you even dipped your head down below his face to see if he could somehow peak through the bottom. He gave you no reaction and you motioned to the group at the table that the blindfold was secure.

Kyungsoo was just standing there and you very quickly realized the entire point of this.

You had to touch him.

“Umm…” you mumbled out, “I’m going to touch you. Just a warning,” you added lamely.

“I figured you might,” he monotoned and you lifted both of his forearms so his hands were elevated, grabbing each of his hands you turned them palm up.

Ignore this.

This was survival.

Ignore this, it’s not even happening. You repeated this to yourself again.

His skin was warm and smooth. The backs of his hands had some of the softest skin you’d ever felt below your fingertips and you had to actually cradle his hand within yours to hand him the vegetables. He was standing beside the sink, washing things. It was a splashy, messy thing. You grabbed his wrists to guide him to the colander and towels.

“Which way is the bowl?” His hands were reaching across the countertop.

“Left,” you said while also trying arrange the cutting board and knife on the counter.

His hand reached out fast and he knocked a head of lettuce, sending it flying as it rolled off the counter onto the floor.

You heard giggles at the dinner table.

“Sorry, I meant right.”

“Right?” He reached right and found the bowl easily. That lettuce was gone. You weren't allowed to pick it up.

“Yeah, I get them mixed up. Sorry,” It was definitely your mistake. You always had trouble with the horizontal directions. You didn't know what it was about them but they never came out right the first time. Not when you were rushed and didn’t have a chance to really think about it.

“You get right and left mixed up?” Kyungsoo was talking now, he was lining up carrots and zucchinis on his cutting board and he was carefully feeling everything with his fingertips; the location of the knife, the location and orientation of the vegetables and he made a quick cut of the tops of the vegetables, clearing the scraps away with the blade.

“But they never change. Right will always be right. You only have to learn it once.”

“Feels like it moves to me, I guess. I never get it right. East and West too. I’ve always been like this.”

“Ahh, so just touch me next time, instead of saying right or left, okay?,” His small concession left you feeling odd in a kind of warm way. It wasn’t judgmental or pushy. Just accommodating. You didn't dwell on it. He was chopping. He was quick, even without his sight you could see the small touches he made with his finger tips curved in a way to direct the blade. The resulting slices were all perfectly even and he made such quick work of the vegetables you actually had trouble clearing the spaces as he worked. You had to work twice as fast as you thought you might to keep up with him.

The team of staff members had slowly finished their meal and had made their way to the countertop to watch.

One thing that struck you was how very calm he sounded here. Nothing felt urgent or angry. He was very controlled in this environment. There were small whispers.

“Where is the filet knife? It’s long and skinny and very sharp.” And you would respond by leading his elbow in the direction of the knife handle, always being sure to hand him only the handles and never any parts that might injure him. He found a rhythm naturally; moving around the space as if he could actually see where he was going. He even mixed something sweet looking into a container and popped it in the freezer behind him with minimal help from you.

Each of his questions received a quick response from you. Each instruction received immediate action.

“Can you fill the two saucepans on the stove with water and put them on high to boil? She can touch the water, right?”

“I need tweezers and a damp paper towel placed above the cutting board.”

“Where is the trash?”

You were moving as instructed, feeling quite proud of yourself when you’d anticipate something he needed and giving it to him the second he began to ask.

“Towel?”

“Here.”

“Oil?”

“Right here.”

“Garlic?”

“Here it is.”

Eventually a sauce was made. Fish was cut up in sections with a little, “are you very hungry? I’ll make bigger pieces,” as he touched the filet with his fingertips to gauge the size and thickness of the cuts.

Maybe this was your calling. Maybe you were meant to be a seeing eye person for a famous chef. You cleaned up behind him with ease, leading him to the tongs and even letting him know the moment you thought his frying pan was hot enough for the fish. He reached a hand out very close to the pan and you pulled his back hand fearing he might not realize how hot it was.

“It’s okay, I need to feel it.” He got very close to it and said, “You’re right, it’s perfect.” You felt about as full as you could. That was a compliment, right?

He hovered with his tongs over the fish and asked, “do I have it?” And you adjusted his position just a little before you confirmed, both with a soft “yes” and a little tap of your fingertips over his hand that held the tongs.

From your peripheral vision you could see Sara scribbling something on that damned white board of hers.

Most of his mixing and seasoning seemed to be happening by smell. You noticed he leaned in very close to smell everything he was using. Mixing sauces was done by smell too. He would add more of something after getting a good smell of it and finally he dipped his pinky finger in to taste the result. He was mostly quiet as he did this but after a few simple nods of his head he must have particularly liked something he came up with because he dipped his finger in again, holding it out in the direction of where you stood.

“Try this,” he said and you stared at his outstretched finger with some thick light colored sauce on the end of it. Both of your hands were full. You were holding the next things he would need for the fish and he was shaking his finger, looking for you, “where did you go? Taste this.”

You leaned then, letting your lips part over the sauce and trying to get only the sauce between your lips. You left behind most of it on his finger.

What you tasted though, was almost magical. How in the hell did a flavor like this come out of that random pile of ingredients you both won in the games?

“Oh wow,” you remarked honestly. Kyungsoo pulled his hand down and stuck his finger back into his mouth licking off the rest of the sauce you left behind and nodded his head in agreement.

“Good, right?”

Behind you, there was a furious squeaking as Sara wrote yet another bullet point on that blasted white board. Probably calling this little exchange your first indirect kiss with the man. Probably highlighting how you hesitated before moving in and how nonchalant you acted about it while your ears turned bright red from the embarrassment of technically having swapped saliva with the man.

Your hour for cooking was almost up. Mr. Chen had been occasionally announcing the amount of time remaining and you were gathering plates for him to serve things up.

“He can’t see can he?” Someone asked as they watched him work. The other members of the staff were enthralled and you watched in wonder as he plated dishes in pairs, starting with some puree he had made, swirling it beautifully on the bottom of the plate before placing the fish on top and topping the whole thing with two different sauces. On top of all of it went some sprinkling of something bright green and bright orange. The other plate had a chopped salad with greens, nuts and fresh fruit. He even pulled a sorbet out of the freezer for dessert and you could hardly believe this man had really made all of this in an hour while blindfolded. Even with your help the results itself were remarkable.

When the timer went off he removed his blindfolded and looked down at the spread, giving the smallest nod of approval.

“Now don’t go doing something stupid like falling in love with me after you eat this, Princess.”

It had been a joke, of course. It was received as a joke and the room erupted in chuckles. You had trouble with forcing the laugh in a way that was natural and convincing and you knew the reason why.

It was because part of why you’d been so hurt by everything cruel and mean that he had said and done to you so far was because you knew deep down inside that you were already very much in danger of doing the very thing he had warned you against.

So you did not laugh at his joke and the food was probably the most delicious meal you’d ever experienced in your entire life.

You did not laugh at his joke, not like Javier who chuckled whole-heartedly from the kitchen as he took taste tests of everything Kyungsoo had cooked.

You just ate your delicious food in silence and avoided the curious eyes of Sara who, alarmingly, also did not laugh at Kyungsoo's joke.

Sara who only watched you while you avoided Kyungsoo’s eyes for the rest of the night.

Sara, who came to some sort of conclusion that required her to stand up, walk up to her insufferable white board and squeak, squeak, squeak out some new bullet point below the hand drawn red heart that sat between your names.

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

#exo fanfiction #exo smut #kyungsoo #exo fic #kyungsoo fic #exo story

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teddyeyeseddie · 1 year ago

Text

Devil Horns & Mary Jane

Virgin!Eddie X Reader

(a/n hiiiii long time no see! Its been awhile but i am so glad to be back and bee bopping around brain rot city with @lofaewrites ! boy have i been cooking up some stuff in the kitchen for you guys! here’s my attempt at willing summer away, i mean it's practically halloween, right?)

“For the last time I am not driving you to some haunted woods all the way in bum-fuck Indiana,” Eddie shouts, settling in on the couch with a bowl of popcorn.

“Eddie, please,” Dustin begs, plopping down beside him, grabbing onto Eddie’s shoulder and shaking it.

“Yeah, please Eddie. You promised you would take us to a haunted house this year!” Mike chimes in, pleading eyes looking down at Eddie.

“I promised I would take you but I’m not taking you tonight, I have plans,” he motions to the TV in front of him, some horror film playing at a low volume.

“Now shoo-'' Dustin's hand comes to shush Eddie, pointer finger smushed to Eddie’s pink lips.

“I’ll tell them about what's under--'' It's Eddie’s turn to shush Dustin, his whole hand quick to cover Dustin’s mouth.

“Enough of that. Alright kids, load up,” Dusting snickers as he follows Eddie and his friends out of the trailer.

The kids all pile in his van, Dustin settling in the front seat. Eddie’s hand smacks his as he attempts to change the radio, turning it back to his usual rock station.

The drive takes them out of town to a more rural area, the haunted woods and corn maze stretching for several acres. Eddie parks the Van, boots crunching in gravel as he steps out of the vehicle. He stuffs his hands in his jacket pocket, withdrawing a pack of camels. He lights one, taking several drags before stopping under a tree.

“I’ll be waiting here for you guys,” he sends the group a salute as he leans up against the trunk.

“Nope, you’re coming,” Max states bluntly, walking towards him and plucking the cigarette from his pursed lips before stomping on it.

“Oof, alright,” Eddie raises his eyebrows before begrudgingly following the group toward the entrance of the haunted woods.

“Beware!!” A badly dressed clown screams on Eddie’s right, causing Dustin to jump.

“Oh this is going to be so epic,” Dustin says as he bumps into Eddie. He shrugs him off and straightens out his shoulders.

The group pushes its way through a badly shredded sheet that is covered in fake blood, Eddie chuckles nervously to himself before entering through the “Gates of Hell”.

They walk for a bit through the woods, witches and zombies popping out periodically to try and get a rise out of the group. Eddie usually sees it coming, but still jumping at the inevitable scare.

They make it to a small cabin in the middle of the woods, glass windows broken, Cobwebs stretching across the porch, the whole nine yards. Eddie ducks into the small doorway, being the first of his group to make the journey inside. He feels it out once he is in, the strobing lights making his head spin as he tries to make his way forward.

Dustin follows in shortly after, putting his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, causing Eddie to jump. He shakes his head, hair tossing back in Dustin’s face. The group trudges forward, making it halfway through the house with no scares. Eddie is pretty sure the house is vacant of haunt employees. He begins to relax, shrugging Dustin’s hands off his shoulders as he makes his way through the house.

He makes it to the bathroom where a bathtub sits. He begins to notice bubbles forming in the tub, getting closer to investigate despite his judgment. When he is standing over the tub, something jumps out, right in Eddie’s face. Eddie is quick to squeal, hands taking position before punching in front of him at the mass that just emerged from the bathtub.

“Fuck-ow ow ow,” he pulls his hand back, shaking it out before realizing what just happened.

He punched someone.

He punched an employee.

He rushes back to the tub, his hands coming to pull the workers mask off to reveal a doe eyed girl with the bloodiest of noses.

“Shit shit shit. I am so sorry,” He grabs the bandana that is stuck in his back pocket and presses it to your nose.

You let yourself be held up by Eddie as he walks you through the rest of the house, your mind is so fuzzy you’re not really sure what is going on.

He shakes your shoulder once you make it outside, looking down at you, his face illuminated by the residual strobing lights bleeding through the panes of the broken windows.

He’s pretty, bangs disheveled and sticking to his forehead, leather jacket broadening his shoulders, pink tongue poking out from between his plump lips.

“Hey, Hey c'mon l-look at me,” he says from above you, your eyes finally focused on his, a grimace forming on your face as you come to.

“Did you punch me?” you question, hand finally coming to rub under your nose, blood painting your fingers. His hand comes to rub at the back of his neck, a shy smile forming on his face as he does so.

“Yes?” he almost questions, “But, I am so so sorry, I did not expect someone to pop out of there. I’ve never even been to a haunted house before, I just say I like them so my friends don’t think I’m lame. I’m actually really terrified of them? I’ve never even punched someone before, not even when I got beat up in midd-”

“Eddie! For god’s sake let Y/N breathe,” Dustin groans, “Hi, Y/N. Are you okay?” He questions, coming to kneel beside you.

“Yeah Dusty, I’m ok,” you say, smiling at him.

“Y/N? Dusty?” Eddie asks, confused.

“Y/N is my neighbor, it’s how I heard about the haunted woods in the first place,” Dustin reveals, holding his hand out to you in order to help you off the porch steps.

Eddie reaches his arm out, offering it to you. You take it, looping your arm in his as you walk down the hill and towards the exit of the haunted woods.

The two of you make small talk as you walk down, Eddie even lighting a cigarette and offering it to you. You decide fuck it after the night you’ve had and take several drags before giving it back to Eddie.

“I really am so sorry I punched you,” Eddie says as he looks down at you, “I-I dont like hit women or anything like that, I didn’t even know you were a woman. Just like a mass of moss or something gross like th-”

“EDDIE!” you shout playfully, “Stop with the nervous rambling, it's fine! My nose isn’t broken and you got me out of work for the night,”

“Seriously? No “I’m gonna press charges”? You do know who I am right? Half the town wants to see me in jail,” he states bluntly.

“You’re a dork,” you say with a shrug, “I don’t think you’d survive in jail so I decided to spare you,”

“Okay, ouch. I am not a dork,” Eddie defends, eyes trained forward as he walks with you.

“What do you do in your free time?”

“Play D&D, read, write music, watch horror films,” he states obviously.

“See, dork,” you bump your hip with his, smiling as you do so. Eddie meets your smile with a frown, his eyebrow furrowing as he looks at you.

“Hey, c'mon you punched me in the face. I can say you’re a dork. Plus, I never said being a dork was a bad thing,” you reveal, arm unlocking from his as you approach a trailer that served as your bosses office. He was understanding as to what happened but had to understandingly ban Eddie from the haunted woods for the foreseeable future.

Eddie shrugs his shoulders at the news, stepping out of the trailer with you.

“It’s better than spending a night in jail,” Eddie says, digging in his pocket for his keys.

“C’mon kids, load up,” Eddie shouts before turning back towards you.

“Do you need a ride?” Eddie questions as he shoves his thumb towards his van.

You shake your head, pulling his bandana away from your nose.

“Nah I got it, I’ll see you around?” you ask, “Gotta clean this up and give it to you somehow,”

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” Eddie responds. He gives you a small wave before retreating to his van.

Eddie slides into the driver’s seat of the van, starting it up and peeling out of the gravel lot.

“Dude- I can’t believe you punched her,” Dustin yells over the music.

“Shut up, Dusty,” Eddie sneers.

“And your hopeless attempt at flirting with her, oh my god you were so bad dude!” Dustin laughs at Eddie, his heart breaking a little bit at his words.

Dustin was right. Eddie was hopeless when it came to women. His attempt at flirting tonight simply bleeding into embarrassing stories about himself. He was sure he blew it, no he was certain he had blown it. You can’t punch a pretty girl in the face and expect anything to go anywhere after that.

Eddie goes home that night, kicking himself mentally for how the evening went. He wishes he could be normal. He wishes his brain wouldn’t short circuit when a woman checked him out at the grocery store. He wishes he could be confident in himself. He wishes he wasn’t so fucking weird.

That’s what Eddie Munson is, he decides. A weird, dorky, nerd. He’s going to die a virgin, he’s sure of it.

He wakes the next morning with his hand throbbing. He groans when he thinks about how you feel if his hand feels the way it does. He rolls out of bed, opening and closing his hand, wincing at each contract of his skin.

He ends up running late to work, van speeding down the road as he nears the vinyl shop. He pulls in right at 10, practically jumping out of his van and speed walking towards the entrance. He unlocks the door, pushing inside and turning on the lights.

He’s busy putting on a record to play in the shop when the bell above the door begins to ring. He turns when he hears it, smiling when he sees who he’s met with.

It's you. You’re wearing a pink skirt, a cream sweater thrown over it, not how Eddie would have ever imagined you to dress.

“Y-Y/N?” Eddie stutters, record needle scratching loudly as he drops it.

“Hi, Eddie,” you walk towards the counter, in the light of the storefront he sees that your right eye has turned a bright purple.

“Shit- I’m so sorry,” Eddie rasps, wincing as you tilt your face up to reveal the bruise on your cheek.

“Had to make you feel a little more sorry for me,” you say with a small chuckle. Eddie flashes you pleading eyes, silently begging you to stop messing with him.

“Hey, it’s okay! I actually just came to bring this back,” you dig into your baby pink purse, pulling out Eddie’s now clean bandana.

“I uh, asked Dustin where I could find you,”

Eddie smiles and takes the bandana from your hand, tucking it into his back pocket.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” He sends you a salute as you back away from the counter.

“See ya around Eddie,”

The next time you show up to his work, Eddie is high. He’d taken a few dabs in his car on his lunch break. The weed really takes over when you walk in. Pretty blue skirt flowing behind you, an oversized white sweater brushing the hem of your skirt causes his heart to do tiny little flips.

“Hey Eddie,” you squeak as you approach him. The bruise around your eye is almost completely healed and the swelling in your nose has gone down tremendously. You look better and Eddie is so happy to see that.

“Hey trouble,” he rasps, a dopey smile on his face. He walks to where you’re standing, stopping once he reaches you, leaning over the counter. He smacks his gum, elbows resting on the glass as he looks down at you.

“Trouble?” you quirk an eyebrow, hand on your hip as you scowl at him playfully.

“It fits, sue me. What brings you in?” Eddie questions, rounding the counter and settling next to you. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms and legs as he looks over the expanse of the store.

“Need a birthday present for a coworker. He’s throwing a halloween party for his birthday. He’s into stuff like you. Ya know, dorky stuff, metal, the whole lot,”

“Ah, I got just the thing. Iron Maiden released a new album this past month, just got the vinyls and 8 tracks in,”

He makes his way to the ‘new arrivals’ section of the store, fingers skimming through records effortlessly.

“Aha, here it is!” he shouts, handing it to you with a bow. He feels more confident like this, high and able to flirt and exist around you.

“Milady…” he ushers you back to the counter, ringing you up. He bags your purchase, carefully handing it over the counter.

“Have a good one, trouble,” he says with a smirk on his lips. You wave a small goodbye but stop before you’re able to make it out the door. You turn on your heels marching right up to Eddie Munson.

“Will you be my date to this thing?” You’re standing right infront of him, so close you can smell weed, cigarettes and his cologne.

“A Halloween party?” Eddie questions, head ticking to the side as he ponders the idea.

“Sure thing, I’ll pick you up?” you nod and pluck a pencil out of the jar by the register, writing down your address on a scrap piece of your receipt. You hand it to Eddie, smiling widely as he takes it.

“7:00?”

“7:00, sweetheart,”

Eddie’s heart is pounding. He’s sure he’s on the verge of either keeling over or running for the hills. His high has worn off and he’s 99% sure any and all ability to be normal has left the building. His hands are shaking as he clips in his little red devil horns. He backs up from the mirror and looks at himself. Red sweater, black jeans and black boots was tonight’s ensemble. He adjusts the little horns in his hair, fluffing his bangs before walking out to the living room, hands still shaking as he collects his keys.

“I’ll be late Wayne,” He shouts to his Uncle in the Kitchen. With that, he makes his way out to his van, hopping in and lighting a cigarette to help calm his nerves.

He makes his way to your house, the ride and nicotine somewhat soothing his nerves. You see his van at the curb and bid your mom goodbye, stepping out into the cold October air. Eddie feels all the air leave his chest as he looks at you as you come down your porch stairs. You’re in that same oversized white sweater except this time it's over a white tennis skirt. Your hair is down in braids, a little halo atop your head. Eddie is pretty sure he dreamed you up, there is no way you are real he thinks to himself.

You practically skip to Eddie’s van, Eddie getting out quickly in order to open the door for you. You slide into the passenger seat, Eddie climbing into the van shortly after.

“An angel huh?” he asks nervously, causing you to blush.

“Every devil needs his angel,” you shrug. It’s Eddie’s turn to blush, his red cheeks matching the horns tucked in his mess of curls.

You make conversation as you drive. Albeit awkward conversation, but conversation nonetheless. Your friends warned you about this, how awkward it would be but honestly, you liked it. You liked how you could get under Eddie Munson’s skin. And in return, Eddie makes your heart flutter. No matter how many times your friends told you he was awkward or a nerd, you couldn’t stop thinking of the brown eyed blubbering idiot.

You pull up to where the party is, a house on the outskirts of town. You spot a bonfire in the back surrounded by people, signaling that you’re at the right place. Eddie parks his van on the grass before getting out and rounding the car to help you out.

You both trudge through the grass, making it back to the bonfire, present in hand. Eddie hangs back while you converse with your friends. You down several drinks, drinking too fast and feeling a little woozy.

You find Eddie several minutes after you down your second drink. He has a red solo cup in hand, other hand in his pocket as he sips the mixture in the cup.

“Hey Eds,” You say with a smile.

“Trouble,”

“You’re being a wallflower,” You giggle, getting up on your tiptoes to adjust one of his horns.

“I-I just don’t know anyone,” He shrugs his shoulders, taking a sip of his drink. You grab his hand once he’s done, dragging him to the fire and sitting on a log next to him.

You don’t let go of him, Eddie smiling when your thumb begins to rub circles on the back of his hand.

You comfort him for a moment before turning to him and beginning conversation.

“So- you don't talk much do you?” you question as you take a sip of your drink.

Eddie shakes his head, ducking it down in embarrassment.

“Hey hey, it’s okay!” you reveal, smiling at him when he snaps his head back up.

“I can talk enough for the both of us,” you babble, “My name's Y/N but you know that, and I know your name is Eddie,” vodka hits your tongue as you sip on your drink.

“You’re a dorky metalhead and you drive a rickety old van that smells like weed so I assume you smoke?” you ask as you raise your eyebrows.

“Deal. I uh- Deal,” Your eyes widen comically at his revelation.

“You deal drugs?” you whisper-yell, a chuckle rising out of Eddie at your reaction.

“Yeah, mostly bud,”

“Can we smoke?”

He simply nods. You get up from your place on the log, hand gripping his as you pull him back towards the van.

He opens the back for you, the two of you ducking in and settling in the back. He pulls out an old lunch box, digging in it until he can find his rolling papers. You watch him skillfully roll the joint, his hands finally steady.

He brings the joint to his lips, holding it there as he flicks his lighter. The end of the joint blooms red, smoke flowing from Eddie’s mouth as he exhales. Eddie passes you the spliff, smiling widely at your doe eyed expression.

You take a long drag, your exhale being cut off by dry coughing and hacking. Your cheeks burn bright red in the commotion. Eddie finds a half-drunk bottle of water and passes it to you. You hand him back the joint and gratefully accept the water, chugging the rest of the bottle.

The rest of your smoke sesh goes off without a hitch, the two of you giggling at anything and

everything.

“You talk more when you’re high,” Eddie stops rolling the second joint of the night, looking up at you.

“It’s hard making new friends. Weed makes me relax and not be so weird.” Eddie licks the rolling paper, focusing on the task at hand.

“You’re not weird..”

“Says the girl who called me a dork the second she met me,”

“I am pretty sure I have endless passes to call you a dork, you punched me in the face and all,” Eddie sucks in his breath through his teeth, holding his hand up in defense.

“What was a pretty thing like you doing working there anyways?” he takes a drag of the joint, inhaling deeply before blowing all the smoke in your face.

“Eddie? Pretty thing? Are you flirting with me?” you reach towards him, hands meeting as you pass the spliff between you two.

“I dunno trouble, am I?” he questions, mentally giving himself a pep talk to not screw this up.

Eddie shifts in his seat, turning to face you.

“Would that bother you? If I was?” Eddie asks sweetly, doe eyes looking down at you.

You shake your head, your heart races as he shifts closer to you. You’re sure he is going to kiss you, he's so close. Until, he isn't. He pulls away.

He casts his eyes downward, nerves in his belly rising.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?”

“I-I’ve never?”

“Kissed a girl?” you finish for him, your hand holding his as he nods his head.

“Well come here then,” You peck his lips a few times, finally deepening the kiss and showing Eddie what to do. He catches on fast, the kiss quickly turning messy and desperate. You're straddling his lap when your hands slide underneath Eddie’s red sweater, a whimper escaping his lips when your cold fingers brush against his middle.

“Can assume you haven’t done this either?” His eyes are blown wide as he looks up at you, lips pink and plump, cheeks red and splotchy.

He shakes his head. You cup his jaw in your hand, drawing him in for a kiss before you pull away and whisper in his ear.

“Just follow my lead,”

Eddie shudders as your breath hits his neck. His cock is straining so painfully against his zipper and he’s pretty sure if he doesn’t get relief soon, he’ll explode.

You sit back on your haunches, stripping yourself of your sweater and skirt, leaving you only in your halo.

If Eddie wasn’t already painfully hard, the sight before him is enough to do so. Your naked body dressed only in a halo while the moonlight bleeds into his van has his mind whirling. He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Because if all angels looked like this, he’d be on his knees every night.

You giggle at the way he's staring, hands going to snake back under his sweater in order to strip it from his body. You pull it over his head, curls bouncing back to place after the sweater is fully removed, horns staying in place despite the disturbance.

You start to work on his pants, unbuckling his belt and popping the button of his jeans. You kiss him softly when you dip your hand into his boxers. You giggle when he hisses, kissing his jaw when the hiss turns into a needy moan. You pump him a few times before withdrawing your hand from his boxers.

“Let’s get out of these, yeah?” Eddie nods feverishly, gangly limbs moving fast to rid himself of his jeans. You draw in a breath when he is finally naked before you. He is so pretty, his cock is so pretty. It’s thick and just the right length, curving slightly to the left, following his hip bone and resting there.

“Lay on your back,” you instruct, grabbing a random pillow from the floor and shoving it under Eddie’s head.

“Now, enjoy yourself. Touch me however you want and for the love of god, don’t hold back,”

You throw your leg over his body, straddling his middle. You get on your knees, hovering above Eddie’s cock. You take it in your hand, direct it to your weeping hole, and sink down. You raise yourself slowly before dropping yourself back down, a little “oof” getting punched from Eddie’s lungs. You pick up your pace and deduce him to a moaning, needy mess.

“F-fuck trouble, I- I’m. I can’t-” Eddie’s hands come to rest on your hips, pushing you down, forcing himself deeper inside of you. You feel him twitching inside of you, cum leaking from you and down his balls.

Eddie is bright red when you look down at him, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to say something. He’s so caught up in his mind, reminding himself of how weird and pathetic he is he almost doesn't hear you.

“That. Was so hot,” you reveal, his spent cock now softening inside you.

Eddie chuckles, pushing you up his body to release his cock, settling you beside him. He draws you in tightly, your legs intertwined, cum leaking from you and staining the blanket beneath you.

“Have I broken you?” you ask as you trace the tattoos that litter Eddie’s chest.

“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie groans, lips coming to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

The two of you sit there for a moment, breathing falling in line as you both enjoy the presence of each other.

“You never told me why you work at a haunted house,” Eddie says, finally breaking the silence

“Oh- my brother is in charge of all the “cast members ", got me the gig and pays me well. Not really up my alley but it’s better than the mall,” you shrug, leaning up on your elbows to look outside.

“There’s more people outside, do you want to go back or…” Eddie quirks his eyebrow.

“Orrr…”

“We can do that again?”

#Eddie X You #Eddie X Reader #Eddie X Y/n #Eddie munson X You #Eddie munson x Reader #eddie munson #eddie fanfiction #eddie smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader fluff #eddie x reader smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #virgin!Eddie #teddy eyes writes 🧚🏻‍♂️✨

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steddio · 2 years ago

Text

Eddie can’t listen to music anymore. God knows he wants to, would give anything to lose himself in a particularly intense guitar riff, or bang on the steering wheel of his van like it’s a drum kit, or just generally annoy those in his vicinity by refusing to turn down “that noise” (as his neighbors call it). Music was his life, his sanctuary, his whole reason for being on this stupid, fucked up planet.

But now, music makes him jumpy, panicky. Hands clenched into fists, the back of his neck prickling. He can’t help but look for the threat, for the reason music is being played. Eddie finds himself sitting in silence now, when before he couldn’t stand it. His bedroom eerily quiet, cassettes shoved in a shoebox, stereo covered with an old t-shirt. He drives with the windows down, radio off, listening only to the mundane sounds of small town Indiana.

He can’t even play guitar. Three days after he woke up covered in bandages, head aching, Wayne had brought Eddie his sweetheart, mumbling something about not wanting Eddie to be bored in the hospital. Eddie had tried to play, he really had. But just touching the strings sent him back into that life-or-death mindset, and suddenly his mouth felt like it was filled with blood and he couldn’t breathe, and the nurse had to rush in and help him release his death grip on the guitar, take deep breaths, count to ten.

After, he threw the provided pamphlets about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in the trash and tried to convince himself he didn’t really need to play guitar anymore. As Dustin is so fond of reminding him, he already lived the most metal moment of all time, embodied it, played for the lives of everyone he loves, for Chrissy’s death, for Hawkins’s survival. His sweetheart helped save the world, and now it’s enough that she’s only decoration in their new government payout trailer. It has to be enough, because he can barely look at her, can’t touch her without shaking, without almost throwing up.

His friends must notice. They must, because he’s been avoiding band practice, hasn’t scheduled any D&D sessions, staying far away from everything that used to bring him joy because it doesn’t. Not anymore. And sometimes he wishes they would say something, that anyone would acknowledge this 180 degree shift in Eddie’s entire being. But Jeff and Gareth are giving him space, letting him heal. And the kids are kids, dealing with their own trauma and shit. So it’s just Eddie and the silence.

—

Eddie is listlessly staring at his bedroom wall, actively trying to think about nothing, when he hears a car horn honking. He ignores it, sure that it’s irrelevant to him. The horn honks again. Then a third, fourth, fifth time, followed by, “Munson, dude, I know you’re in there!”

And what the fuck. Because Eddie knows that voice, and there’s absolutely no reason for Steve Harrington of all people to be outside his trailer. They’re not even friends! They’re just… trauma bonded. Or whatever. Maybe Eddie should have read those pamphlets.

He peeks his head out the window to see Steve shading his eyes with one hand, the other on his hip. Eddie waggles his fingers in a hesitant wave, even more surprised when Steve’s face breaks out into a grin.

“There you are, buddy! Come on, let’s go!”

Eddie begrudgingly grabs his jacket, swinging it on as he slams the door of the trailer behind him.

“Um, dude, what’s up?”

Steve only waggles his eyebrows in response. “You’ll see, but c’mon, we’re running late.”

Eddie slides into the front seat of Steve’s BMW, eyes glancing to the radio, which is blasting some Top 40 station that not only sounds like nails on a chalkboard but is already making Eddie uneasy. Steve hops in the drivers seat and, as if he can read Eddie’s mind, turns the radio off before pulling out of the trailer park.

The ride is quiet, but comfortable. Steve has the windows down, it’s a breezy summer day, and Eddie feels something underneath the listlessness that has infiltrated his brain like cobwebs. Anticipation, maybe even excitement.

Steve pulls into the Wheelers’ driveway, and Eddie follows him inside the house, down to the basement, where Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will have set up their D&D table, Will at the head wearing… is that a wizard hat?

“Welcome back from banishment, Eddie!” Dustin shouts as soon as he sees him, smiling widely. And Eddie can’t help but smile back. Because these are his kids, and he missed them, and he really did feel banished even if it was somewhat self-imposed.

Four hours later, after part one of a thrilling campaign led by Will (who really is a promising DM, Eddie has to admit), he no longer feels like that. He’s glowing, breathless, warm. The feeling buoys him through the car ride home, Steve having left and then returned to drive Eddie back. And if that good feeling allows Eddie to glance a little too long at Steve’s hair blowing in the wind, his left hand loosely resting on the steering wheel and his right on his thigh, then that’s Eddie’s business and no one else’s.

They fall into a routine. Steve picks Eddie up, drives him to the Wheelers’ house for an afternoon of D&D, and drives him home. Eddie tries not to be too obvious in his appreciation of Steve in the summer sun but he’s just a man, okay, and Steve didn’t earn his reputation for nothing.

Every time, Eddie offers to drive himself, but Steve just laughs, shakes his head. “Get in the car, Munson.”

And every time Eddie does, Steve turns the radio off. Doesn’t say anything, doesn’t acknowledge it, but their car rides are blissfully quiet. Light and easy in a way that silences aren’t when he’s alone.

—

It’s pouring rain one afternoon, rattling the roof of the trailer. Eddie is contemplating whether he can get away with smoking out his bedroom window when he hears a familiar car horn. As he approaches the car, Eddie hears what can’t be, but what is unmistakably the sound of Steve… singing? Softly, almost under his breath, Steve is singing along to the radio. He cuts off when he sees Eddie, offering a half wave and a lopsided grin. As Eddie slides into the front seat, Steve turns the radio off.

“Hey why do you do that, man?” The question slips out before Eddie can stop himself.

“Do what?” Steve looks confused.

“Turn the radio off. When I get in the car.” Now that he’s asked, Eddie finds that he needs to know. Why of all possible people, it’s Steve who’s been the most accommodating.

Steve shrugs, puts the car into drive, turns onto the main road before answering. “It bothers you,” he says simply.

Eddie must look confused when Steve glances over because he continues. “I never see you listen to music anymore. I figured it must bother you. And hey man, if anyone understands fucked up reactions it’s me. I can’t hear fireworks or see Christmas lights anymore.”

Eddie barely manages to nod his thanks, to present a facade of normalcy while his mind is racing a million miles an hour. He knows that Steve has been through some shit, clearly he had even before Eddie walked headfirst into whatever the fuck is going on in Hawkins. But he never expected Steve to be so… observant. Not of him at least.

The D&D session takes his mind off the mortifying knowledge that Steve is paying attention to him. They’re approaching Will’s grand finale, and Eddie is caught off guard by how normal it feels. To be excited about a campaign, to mess around with the kids. To laugh, unironically.

The ride home is tenser than usual but as they pull into the trailer park, Eddie musters the courage to reach out. To touch Steve’s arm and mumble a quiet but sincere “thank you.” He doesn’t stay to see if Steve responds, but the pads of his fingers burn where they met Steve’s bare forearm, and he falls asleep that night with the ghost of a pop song in his head.

—

A week later, Eddie finds himself in the backseat of Steve’s car, his usual shotgun seat occupied by Robin. In situations like these, it’s hard not to feel left out, like a third wheel. Steve and Robin orbit around each other in a way that Eddie never has with anyone. But their jubilance is addictive and Eddie can’t help but be drawn in. A lone planet in their binary star system.

They’re telling some inside joke, something about Muppets, and Steve is glowing in the way he only ever does with Robin or Dustin, beaming like a carefree teenager instead of gazing sadly out of eyes that look too old for his face. Eddie is breathless, finds himself laughing along, eyes glued to Steve’s mouth (his smile, not his lips, Eddie lies to himself). Robin launches into song and there’s a moment when Steve joins in, and it’s ridiculous but possibly the most glorious thing Eddie has ever heard because it’s music. It’s music and it makes him feel safe.

After a blissful few seconds, Steve cuts off, as if catching himself, turns to meet Eddie’s eyes, face halfway between joy and panic. Robin doesn’t seem to notice, and Steve has one hand up as if to stop her before Eddie shakes his head slowly, starts to smile. Steve’s face begins to relax again, one eyebrow raising in question.

“Don’t stop,” Eddie mouths.

Steve turns back to Robin, picking up the thread of their foolish imitation. And maybe Eddie is still lying to himself because is this really music? But he thinks it might be the most beautiful sound regardless.

They drop Robin off at home and Eddie climbs up to the front seat, winking at Steve’s feigned outrage about “the leather, dude!” Steve backs out of Robin’s driveway, gets halfway down the block before he pulls over.

“Hey I’m sorry about earlier,” he starts softly. “I got carried away. I hope—. Well. I hope you’re okay, man. I know music bothers you.”

Eddie feels a blush rising at this ridiculous, lovely man and his concern. Steve is looking at Eddie, brow furrowed, assessing every minute detail of his face as if searching for evidence of injury. Eddie wants to reach out and smooth it with a touch, to make Steve laugh again in that carefree way. He settles for reaching out in a different way, laying a piece of himself bare.

“It doesn’t. Bother me, that is. Not when it’s you.”

The silence that follows is expectant, Steve’s expression hard to read. They’ve been on the precipice of something for weeks now, and Eddie has stepped off the ledge. But as always, Steve is there to catch him. His grin is lopsided, eyes warm, as he sings softly,

“But I know, uh-huh, that you're sad. And I know I'll make you happy with the one thing that you never had, baby I'm your man.”

And Eddie has half a second to think Wham!? Really? before they’re kissing. They’re kissing in the front seat of Steve’s car and Eddie has the sudden, embarrassing, wondrous urge to turn the radio on. So he does.

#steddie #stranger things #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve is a wham! fanboy in this #eddie is in the car with a beautiful boy and the beautiful boy can SING???#A writes

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wanderingblindly · 3 months ago

Note

Lestappen 45/46 pretty please

- 🌜

Really had to brush off the cobwebs from the lestappen part of my brain LMAOOO but thank you for the challenge!!! Angry/jealousy/envy suits them so well!!! Link for prompts :)

Hometown Hero

Forewarning for general rancid behavior in an established “enemies with benefits” relationship

It’s like this more often than not: one of them closing the hotel door too harshly, the other stumbling over drunken feet. Who plays which role depends on the circumstances, depends on who tasted champagne and who felt the weight of their nation break their jaw on the asphalt.

Charles giggles as he leans against the entryway wall, not even bothering to take off his shoes. He closes his eyes, not needing to see to know, because he felt it — he felt Max’s grip on his forearm as they stormed through the hallways, felt the fire in his eyes from across the club.

“You’ve become pretty pathetic, huh?” Charles says, the words light on his tongue. He opens his eyes when Max grabs his shoulders, shoving him into the room. “World champion, but he cannot win in the Netherlands.” He pouts, head lolling about with the force. “So sad.”

“Too far, Charles.” Max grinds out, tossing him onto the bed. Charles giggles, falling onto the duvet with a huff before propping himself up on his elbows.

Max said worse to him, during those many years in Monaco. He said worse when Charles pinned him against the bathroom counter and fucked him in front of the mirror, he said worse when he made Charles come until he cried.

And now, having tasted Monaco’s bay with a victor’s tongue, Charles wants blood.

“Strip.” Max demands, and Charles clicks his tongue.

Lazily, indulgently, Charles lifts his foot. “Loser takes off my shoes.”

“I’m not —“

“Ah,” He tuts, watching an angry flush build on Max’s cheeks — just like when they were boys. “Did you win? The anthem, did they play it for you?”

Max says nothing, grinding his teeth.

Charles bares his in a devious smile.

It plays in his head, from a night opposite this one: “You’re the opposite of me, Charles. Never a winner.”

And so he returns the favor: “If you are not a winner, you are what, Max?”

A pause. Max bends slightly at the knee, lowering himself to the floor.

Charles hadn’t tasted first place today, but this is somehow sweeter. “Now, take off my shoes.”

At the repeated demand, Max looks up at him — their eyes lock for a moment. He looks enraged, smoldering with a fire so hot it could char bone. His eyes, icy blue, almost make Charles flinch in their intensity. But he doesn’t. Instead, he moves to press the sole of his shoe against Max’s chest — pushing against him. Hard.

“My shoe, Max.”

It moves too quickly for Charles’s inebriated brain, because Max strikes like a cobra: vicious and silent. In an instant, he grabs Charles’s ankle, tosses his leg to the side, and rises to his feet. Max looms over him, reaching to wrap his hand around Charles’s neck — to slam him back into the duvet.

“Max,” Charles tries to bite, words cut off as Max presses more of his weight into his hand. His eyes blow wide, something new crossing Max’s face.

Max hasn’t been unfamiliar to him since they were boys, hasn’t scared him as long as he’s known him.

As quick as it comes, it goes; Max flexes his hand and leans down to kiss him. It’s harsher than the force of a popped bottle, the way Max crushes into him — grasp tight, tongue almost suffocating, nips against his lips stinging.

Charles tries to fight for the upper hand, tries to push his hands against Max’s shoulders and flip them. But it’s no use, Max’s mouth and hand and weight trapping him too thoroughly.

With a victorious smile, Max swallows the choked gasp he wrings from Charles’s throat. In that moment, maybe it’s as good as champagne

#alternative titles: nemeses with benefits #friends with consequences #<- thank u latte I still might use these later #and thank u for the ask anon!!!!!!#lestappen #lestappen fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 Drabble #liqfic #ask me :)

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pyramid-of-starrs · 1 year ago

Note

seriously I'm so interested in your story about vampire minho and biting likeeee cannot wait ❣️

The Mansion in the woods

Kinktober request: 5 Vampire Leeknow, Biting

Pairing: Vampire LeeKnow x afab reader

Summary: You decided to take a scary camping trip with your friends and end up exploring the mansion in the woods. You find a ring that changes the entire course of your life.

Word Count: 3.0K

Kink: Biting

Warning: Biting, blood, fangs, unprotected sex

A/N: I was on vacation but I'm back lol, this isn't great but enjoy!

Minors dni

"Okay Y/N you're next, truth or dare?" I.N asked as he took a swig of his beer and asked as the fire cracked louder, the cold fall winds blew but the alcohol and blazing campfire kept you and your friends warm. The sweater given to you by your crush Han also kept you pretty cozy. You and a few of your friends decided to do a random camping trip this fall and when your best friend Yuna told you that Han and his friends would be there you were all in. After a long day of failed fishing and hiking you and your friends ate then the boys made a fire for everyone to sit around, a few shots and beers later you all started playing truth or dare, Chan having to jump in the freezing river naked and Lia having to tell the truth about her and Felix, now it was your turn.

"Dare." You answered trying to seem cool for everyone.

"Hmm... I dare you to spend the night at that creepy mansion in the woods." Right, the whole reason you were there in the first place, Changbin had heard a rumor about this older mansion deep in the woods and suggested that the group all go visit it. Yeji and a few of the other girls said it would be too scary, so the group landed on just camping nearby.

"By herself ?? Nah man pick something else." Han interjected, it made your face hot the way he jumped in to protect you.

"Then you go with her bodyguard Han." Chan said in a mocking tone.

"Why don't you go since you're the one suggesting it." Ryujin jumped in, everyone started to argue back and forth then you spoke up.

"Why don't we all go, it could be like a test of courage to see who can stay the longest, that was originally supposed to be the point of this trip anyways right?" when you finished talking everyone looked around at each other.

...

After about a 15 minute walk the group made it, everyone stood in front of the abandoned home after all the boys worked together to pry the mansions rusted gates open.

"Well... ladies first." Seungmin said then Changbin punched him in the arm.

"Come on guys, it can't be that bad right?" Hyunjin said looking at everyone hoping someone would agree. After much hesitation the group finally entered the house. The foyer was dusty but overall, the house was actually in much better shape than you thought it would be outside of the dust, vines and cobwebs. Everyone ventured deeper into the home, eventually everyone split up into their own groups, your heart was racing from fear but also because now you were alone with Han.

"Stay behind me Y/N, here hold my hand." Han reached his hand back for you to grab it as you both continued to walk but you tripped over a deep crack in the floor and fell on top of him instead. That's how you ended up here on top of your crush, both of you just gazing at each other.

"S-sorry, I tripped." You stuttered out, your brain started to short circuit.

"Y/N I.N told me you liked me, is that true?" he looked directly into your eyes and your face was flushed.

"Y-yeah."

Han wasted no time after your confirmation and kissed you, once you were over your state of shock you kissed him back, leaning deeper into him, you didn't think your first time with Han would be on the dirty floor of a possibly haunted mansion but the way he was gripping your ass and his tongue was exploring your mouth who knows. As the kiss continued the door to the room flew open and it startled the both of you, you looked back to see Chan with the group of your friends.

"See, I told ya'll they were fucking not killed by a ghost." Seungmin said, embarrassment written all over your face. You got up and helped Han up on the way up.

"Well, I'm so glad you two were in here getting chummy, come on lets go Ryujin fell and twisted her ankle, so we have to take her back to base camp." Chan said, you looked over to see Changbin holding Ryujin on his back. The group exited the room and left you and Han there.

“Let's head back then." He looked at you and smiled, while on your way out you saw a something bling in the corner of your eye under one of the chairs in the room, as Han continued out the room you ran over to investigate, it was a ring with a dark purple jewel in the middle, something about it was so alluring. You picked it up and it was almost like a voice telling you to put the ring on, you slid it onto your ring finger, and it fit perfectly, suddenly the rooms temperature drastically dropped, before you could acknowledge it Han called your name and you left.

...

It's been a week since the camping trip and everything was back to normal, you hadn't talk to Han about the kiss but honestly that was the last thing on your mind right now. You have barely been able to sleep since that day, always feeling like someone is watching you in the distance even when you are home alone or in your room, hearing a very random yet familiar voice in your head trying to tell you something and you keep having dreams about a man, a very handsome man that you never met before. The dream would be about you in the house in the forest, when you walked in the man just stood there with beautiful silver hair and gorgeous red eyes, you know you've never met this man before yet his aura felt so familiar, every time you tried to get closer to him you were awaken from your sleep. Later that night you decided that tonight would be the night that you would confront the man in your dreams. You laid down for bed and there you were, back in the forest standing in front of the abandoned mansion, when you walked through the doors you saw him standing at the top of the stairs looking down at you.

"W-who are you?" you yelled out, however that man didn't respond, instead he continued to watch you with a grin on his face.

"What do you want? Are you the one that's been watching me ?" again no response.

"Do you know me?" he slightly giggled at your question and stopped toying with you.

"Come back to see me if you want me to answer your questions my love." He walked away, his figure disappearing into the dark hallways of the mansion, before you could ask any more you were woken up, you were drenched in sweat and your mouth was dry, you needed to find out who this mystery man was.

...

You couldn't wait anymore and took a cold shower to wash off your sweat then got dressed and headed to the woods. You found yourself standing in front of the mansion door, you pushed the old door open and entered the foyer like in your dreams. You stood in the middle of the room and looked around to find no one but the room was chilled, you shivered and flashed your light around the room to find nothing.

"Hello?" you yelled out, no response but there was a whisper.

"Come to me my love..." You heard the voice echo, it came from up the stairs. You walked up the stairs, you felt beckoned to the master bedroom, you could see a light coming from under the door. You entered the bedroom, it was a decorated room with a large bed with red and black sheets and a comforter, the room with had electricity and was the only part of the house that was warm.

"Hello?" you called out again, that when the door to the connected bathroom open, steam seeped out and a man with a towel on came out. He had another towel to dry his wet hair, he tossed it to the side then gripped the towel sitting on his waist.

"You've finally arrived my love." the man’s cat like sharp eyes met yours and it made your heart skip a beat.

"Wh-who are you?" you asked hesitantly.

The man walked over to you, he stopped just in front of you, the room got cold, but you could feel the heat of his damp body. You looked down as your face started to heat up, he placed his fingers on your chin and lifted your face.

"Your heart, mind and body didn't tell you beloved ? I am the man of your dreams."

Thats when your eyes got wide, and you darted your eyes to his.

"It's you... you're the guy from my dreams, how? Why? What are y-" before you could spew anymore questions, he silenced you by kissing your lips. Though the kiss caught you off guard you didn't stop him at first since the kiss felt warm and welcoming, this wasn't like the kiss you shared with Han, for some reason this had meaning. Eventually you pushed off of him, his body stayed firm, and you took steps back.

"What are you doing?!" you demanded an answer, the man giggled at you.

"I guess I'll introduce myself, I am Minho, the owner of this house and your fiancé." as he talked, you lifted your eyebrow at the last part.

"Fiancé???" you questioned, and he smiled.

"Yes my love, fiancé, the ring you put on that you found in our home, it's an enchanted item I brought with me from home, it's meant to only be able to be worn by my soulmate, meaning only my true love can wear it, Truthfully I lost it years ago and gave up on finding love. I thought I was damned to roam this world alone for an eternity, that is until you came along and found it. Once you slipped it onto your lovely finger, we became soul bonded." He moved his hand from your chin to cup you hand bring it to his lips to kiss the ring, the beautiful purple jewel on the ring glowed for a moment and your heart started to beat faster.

"Wait, what do you mean for eternity... what are you?" Minho knew the question would come up at some point but he was surprised you caught on so fast, many humans can't tell he isn't one of them, instead of answering you he flashed his red eyes and open his mouth slightly, his k9 teeth began to grow into fangs and his nails grew into sharp talons. You stepped back a bit to drink in his slightly different appearance.

"Oh my god so you're saying accidentally soul bonded myself to a fucking vampire?" you said as you started to panic.

" Well, I'm old fashioned and prefer the name Nosferatu but yes vampire works as well. It's funny when I lured you and your friends to my manor my only intention was to drain you all but finding you, my love, was the ultimate outcome, I'll even forgive you for kissing that peasant human boy." His teeth and nails reverted back to normal, and he walked over to the bed to sit down.

"Right, Han... I've been so focused on thinking about you that I haven't went to see him... so, what happens now?" You questioned.

"Well, before we can marry, I have to turn you so we can spend our lives together." once he finished, he waved his hand for you to come closer, so you walked over to him.

"How would you do that, do you just bite me?" He smiled at you once you finished your question.

"Yes, but don't worry." He grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his lap, he crossed his hands over your waist and placed his lips on your neck, you were both facing the same direction so you couldn't see what he was doing which made you feel shy. "I'll make this fun for both of us."

Minho reached his hand into your pants and slowly ran his fingers over your panty covered clit, a soft moan left your lips as his other hand reached for your breast and began to gently massage your fleshy mound. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder exposing you beautiful neck to him, a devious smile flashed on his face. you had your eyes closed then you felt a sting sensation on your neck and a feeling of liquid running down, you yelped at the pain but the sensation felt amazing, Minho had sunk his teeth into you, he removed his fangs from your neck and he started to lick up the blood, before you could enjoy the feeling of his tongue fully a burning sensation rushed through your body.

"Ah, Minho... I feel so hot." you said as you felt your body heating up and becoming more sensitive, suddenly the feeling of his fangs touching you and was driving you crazy.

"Don't worry beautiful, that’s just my venom entering your blood stream, I have to bite you a few more times so you can be nice and full of me." once he finished his moved his hands from your core to your waistband to inch your panty and pants off, you helped him because you wanted him, right now. Once your pants were off you spread your legs wide for him, he moved his fingers back to your core, you hadn't noticed how wet you were for him as he slid his 2 fingers into you with ease. Your moans could be heard throughout the empty mansion as he continued to work his digits in and out of your needy cunt and his tongue danced around the new holes on your neck until he kissed his way to your shoulder blade. The pace of his fingers sped up, your moans getting louder as you felt your climax on the rise, your hips bucked as you felt his pipe hard length growing under his towel, he detached his lips from your shoulder.

"Cum for me my love." He continued to pump his fingers into you, as you focused on how amazing his fast pace felt, you felt him bite into your shoulder, you yelled out a string of moans feeling your shoulder throb with pain as his fangs dug deep into you. You covered his fingers in cum as he pulled them out slowly and brought them to your lips, he didn't need to say anything you opened wide and took his digits into your hot mouth as you sucked all of your slick off of them, he popped his fingers from your mouth and you huffed and puffed heavily. You had never felt this way before, your entire body was hot like you had a fever, yet you were shivering, all you wanted was Minho, he was the only thing on your mind, the only want.

"Please, Minho, please fuck me, I need you so bad, I need your dick in me please." you started to beg, a tear sat at the corner of your eyes as you continued to buck your hips, your pussy was leaking and needy still.

"Of course my queen, I'll fill you up with my venom and my cum." he gently laid your hot body back onto the bed and crawled up to you, he clicked the bedside lamp off and removed the remainder of your clothes along with his towel, he couldn't help but to stop and stare as he looked over your body as it shined in the moonlight. "How was I so lucky to find such a beautiful wife." Your face heated up as he complimented you.

"When I take you home one day everyone will be so jealous of my beautiful wife, so perfect and made just for me." He continued as he gripped your legs and pulled you closer them placed them on his shoulders. He lined his dick up with your entrance then slowly sank into you, you felt like screaming, the sensation was like no other, you needed every inch of him in you, you felt feral like a wild animal in heat, he bottomed out in you then watched your face to make sure you were comfortable.

"Please, Minho, fuck me, break me." You begged, and he listened, he didn't waste another second and started to drill into you deeply, his long dick reaching your spot easily as he beat down your gummy walls with no hesitation.

"I'm going to make you all mine Y/N, would you like that?" he groaned out as your walls squeezed him.

"Yes please~ Make me all yours Minho, I want to be yours, I want to belong to only you." He hissed at your words, his pace becoming sloppy and animalistic, your tears started to flow as he pounded into, he drew his fangs once again you watched his eyes glow as his pupils split like a cat then he bit into your thigh, you yelled out once again as you came, you felt a rush of his seed begin to spill into your core, it was hot as he filled you up, he removed his teeth from your thigh and sucked and licked your blood, he wiped your blood from his mouth then laid next to you.

You both breathed heavily then you cupped his face and kissed him deeply, the metallic taste of your blood still on his tongue, you pulled back the kiss then pulled him into your body, he pulled the covers over your naked forms and held you tightly.

"Minho, I love you?" you said.

"I love you too beautiful and please, you can call me Lino, Minho is my royal court name." he said as he kissed your forehead

"Royal court??"

"I'll explain it later."

#kinktober 2023 #writenbypyramidofstars #leeknow smut #lee minho x reader #minho x reader #lee minho smut #lino smut #lino x reader #minho x you #minho smut #skz smut #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut

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kindersurprisebacterium · 1 year ago

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Steel (Dabi/Reader)

Explicit Sexual Content, MDNI

TW: knife play, degradation, scare actor Dabi, some blood

Gender Neutral AFAB reader

I peered out from behind a corner. The flashing lights and sweeping plumes of fog obscured my vision. I shifted onto the balls of my feet, trying to dull the click of my heels against the linoleum. Screams echoed through the winding hallways. I quickly ducked into a room. The decrepit wooden floors were scattered with debris. Old newspapers and thick white cobwebs. Thudding footsteps filled my ears. I quickly dove behind a dresser haphazardly placed in the corner of the room. The footsteps slowly grew closer, turning into thundering stomps.

“Oh come on. I saw you come in here,” the scare actor spoke loudly, swinging around his plastic machete. While it wasn’t real, it was still fun to pretend as if I were in a video game. I placed a hand over my mouth, stifling my laughter as I watched the actor frantically search for me. Cyan eyes snapped over to my location, squinting as he grinned widely.

“There you are.” He chuckled, holding out a hand. “Come on, stand up.” He held out a hand for me. I laced my fingers with his. He pulled me to my feet, spinning me around so my back was against a wall. His palms slammed against the wall, caging me in. His painted face leaned in close to mine.

“You gonna run, rabbit?” He asked, tapping me on the head with his prop machete.

“Nice house of a thousand corpses reference,” I laughed lightly as my eyes scanned up and down his face. Sharp features were drowned out by layers of face paint. “Well, now I don’t want to.” I pouted.

“Come on, doll, play along so I get paid.” He said, fingers grasping my chin.

“Give me a ten-second head start,” I said, pushing his arm so I could break free from his grip.

“Deal,” He smirked, stepping back, and twirling his machete between his fingers. I began sprinting down the hallway, glancing over my shoulder to see cyan eyes watching me run away. I ducked into a bathroom, what looked to be dried, brown blood was smeared across the white, tiled room. Reminiscent of a saw movie, an ankle chain sat buckled around a pipe. The door squealed, the lock clicking in place as a familiar pair of hands blocked my exit.

“I know we said ten seconds, but I can’t help myself.” He moved closer, machete clattering as he tossed it aside. His fingers slipped through my belt lips, pulling me close. His hot breath fanned against my neck. His lips lay just centimeters away from my heated skin.

“Just so I know I didn't misconstrue this…do you want me to fuck you?” He licked a stripe up my neck, right up to my earlobe. His teeth sunk down on the flesh.

“Looks like you have some brains in you after all.” I laughed, toying with the hem of his distressed shirt. He slipped the dirtied fabric over his head, revealing skin adorned with ink. “That thing is plastic, right?” I asked, pointing to the machete. He nodded, glancing back at the discarded prop.

“You want a real blade?” He asked, fingers grabbing something from his back pocket. He revealed a small switchblade and flicked it open to reveal a small steel blade around four inches in length. “Safeword is clavicle,” he said, pushing my back against the sink. He held the blade's hilt in his mouth as his fingers quickly worked on the button of my jeans. He quickly yanked down the zipper and pushed the denim off of my hips. The material fell down my legs along with my underwear. I stepped out from the material. His hands moved to my shirt, quickly ridding the cloth from my body. I stood naked, leaning against the dirty sink as he eyed my body up like a predator of sorts. He grabbed the knife from his mouth and gripped it tightly in his hand.

“You know, you really are bad at hiding,” he clicked his tongue, stepping closer to me. “Maybe I should carve you up. Teach you a fuckin’ lesson,” he said, dragging the blade up my thigh and to my hip. “Did you want me to find you? Want me to catch you again?” He pushed harder on the blade. The steel sunk into my skin just enough to pull bubbles of blood from my veins. “Huh?” I hissed at the sting of the blade. My skin began to heat up, my cheeks growing hot as he spoke again.

“You want me to fucking use you?” He asked, teeth biting down on my neck.

“Fuck, please!” I whined, my twitching hips pushing further into the blade. He quickly pulled the cold steel away from me, hands soothing over my quivering body.

“Careful, baby. Don’t move too much. I’m not done with you yet.” He tucked the blade into his pocket and sunk down onto his knees. He grabbed my leg and threw it over his shoulder. He dove in, licking a thick stripe up my cunt. I gripped at his black hair, pulling his face closer to my aching clit.

“Fuuuck,” I sighed, hips twitching as his tongue began flicking against my clit. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. My jaw went slack, and a stream of incomprehensible babbles slipped from my tongue like drool. Two fingers began circling my entrance, sinking in ever so slightly, just to pull back out again. I whimpered, thighs quaking around his head. He chuckled, the vibrations sending sharp jolts of pleasure through my core.

“Ohhoh fuck,” my words began to slur together as his tongue drove me deeper into bliss. His fingers plunged inside me. My hands gripped the porcelain sink tightly, thigh squeezing tightly around his head. A sharp slice along my outer thigh sent me careening toward a violent climax. My fingers yanked on his messy black locks, drawing a moan from him. The vibrations from his throat sent painfully overstimulating pricks of sensation down my legs, to my toes which were now curling. Another sharp slice through my skin ripped another burning orgasm through my core. My muscles contracted and relaxed, spasming violently as he fucked me further into bliss. Lips wrapped around my clit, fingers thrusting in and out faster than before. I screamed, voice straining as liquid pooled from between my legs. He pulled his soaked face from between my legs, hands roughly gripping my hips and turning me over so my chest pressed against the sink.

“Let’s see if we can get you to do that again, doll,” he smirked as he pulled his belt from the loops of his ripped jeans. My blurry eyes caught his reflection in the mirror. From underneath the smudged face paint were glimmers of pretty, pierced skin. “You on birth control?” He asked. I mumbled out a jumble of words. His fingers gripped my face, fingers digging into my cheeks to open my mouth.

“Fucking answer.” He spat.

“Pill!” I answered through his intruding fingers.

“That’s it, baby,” he smirked, fingers leaving my face, “See how easy it is when you just do what I say?” He pressed gentle kisses against my heated skin, over my neck, and down to my shoulder. The head of his cock began poking at my entrance, pushing in slowly. My teeth sunk down into my bottom lip as lines of barbells pressed against my insides.

“Mmg, fuck!” I moaned, legs shaking as he bottomed out. Soft pants escaped his lips, breathy moans slowly breaking down his tough exterior. His painted nails dug into my hips, leaving behind angry marks and droplets of blood. He started up a rough pace. His hard thrusts had my body rocking against the cold porcelain sink. Drool pooled from my lips, tongue only able to speak in slurred, incoherent babbles and pleas. My eyes painfully strained as they rolled back into my skull. With every tap against my cervix, and every brush of silver against my aching nerves, my body dove further into haze and static. Clouds of fog swarmed my thoughts, the only thing keeping me grounded being the rhythmic slap of his hips against my ass. My legs quivered, swaying and jolting as my muscle fibers went slack.

“Can’t even- uhn- hold yourself up?” He asked, voice laced with lust. “Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned, head falling back as his pace grew wild. He pressed the tip of the blade to my back. The sharp slice of metal against my skin had my stomach clenching as a wave of pleasure rolled through my body.

“Oughta carve my name into you. Or should I just cum inside you?” He spoke through heavy breaths. My response was a whine, accompanied by my cunt clenching around his cock.

“Mm, you want that?” He groaned, bringing the knife back down to my skin. Another slice across my skin sent me reeling into the depths of another climax. My count spasmed around his cock, milking him, pulling him closer to his climax. Another slice and he quickly pulled out. Through the reflection, I saw a bright flash, and then darkness. Fingers gripped my hair, pulling my chest away from the sink. I squinted as he shoved his phone in front of my face.

“Look,” He Said, shaking my head. I opened my eyes, letting my vision focus on the image in front of me. It was a picture of my back, a bloody D carved into my skin. “How do you like being branded like fucking cattle,”

“Fuck me. Please.” I spoke, wincing at the pain in my scalp.

“Oh you’re a fucking delight, ain’t ‘cha?” He grinned, letting go of my hair. “You want my cock? You want to cum again?” He asked, spinning me around and pinning me against the cold tile. He grabbed the back of my thighs, lifting me up and keeping me tight against the wall. The head of his cock nudged against my entrance. I nodded, unable to get out anything more than a whimper. He pressed his lips to mine in a soft kiss. My tense muscles relaxed as I melted into his touch.

“You okay, babe?” He asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek and pulling back. I nodded and wrapped my arms around the back of his neck. He slowly sunk his cock into me, breathy noises slipping from his lungs as he bottomed out.

The pace he set was slow but deep. My nails clawed up his back as my aching body was filled with pleasure again. My hoarse voice could only produce pants and soft whimpers. My lips, smudged and slick with saliva, stayed parted in a silent drawl of sorts. My eyes stared forward at the wall, and yet my vision was too faded and hazy to get a clear picture. My toes curled, stomach squeezing tight as I neared orgasm. His voice began to break and raise in pitch. His pace grew sloppy and erratic, his hold on my legs slipped slightly as he came. Warmth flooded my core, along with another burning orgasm that ripped my muscles and tugged at my tendons. His shaky hands ushered my feet to the floor. My legs buckled, my body plummeting forward into his chest.

“Shit, okay.” He mumbled as he slowly lowered me to the floor. He kneeled in front of me, hand cupping my cheek. He pulled out his phone, flicking the screen on before quickly putting it back in his pocket. “I’m off in fifteen. How about you hang around and I’ll take you back to my place?” He asked, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“Tell me your name first.” I leaned into his touch, pressing a kiss to his hand.

“It’s Dabi. I’m…uh…sorry for not telling you earlier.” He pulled my shirt over my head, adjusting the fabric so it lay evenly. “I’ll give you my number. That way I can text you once I’m out.” He offered, grabbing my jeans from behind him. He stood up, holding his hand out for me. I grabbed onto his hand and braced myself against the wall as he helped me up. He held my hips steady as I stepped into my jeans. I redid the button on the front, watching as he opened the contacts app on his phone. He held the device out for me. I smiled, taking it from his hands and quickly typing in my number. I handed the phone back to him. Stepping forward, I pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Your makeup is fucked up,” I told him as I approached the door. “See you in fifteen.”

#ao3 fanfic #fanfic #read on ao3 #dabi smut #dabi x reader #touya smut #touya x reader #dabi x y/n #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction

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rikanescence · 1 year ago

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corpse.

Dull light shone through the shattered window, cold breeze brushing past your blood-stained palms.

Terror. Terror was the state you were stuck living in, dreading every second of every day.

Rapid, heavy footsteps ran across the creaky wooden floors of your home. You were able to hear the laboured breathing even from the dim attic, mouth instantly sowing closed in suspense. You were hiding.

To say you lived would be an injustice, to say you survived wouldn't be much better. The brash truth is: All the people you love became brain-eating zombies and you did not. You couldn't fathom why. Reparations for past sins might be the reason, but this was no way to live. You furrowed your brows in pain as you clutched onto your empty stomach. You started to think you were already dead.

Leaking water crashed into the floor in routine droplets, piercingly loud in the otherwise noiseless space. The aftermath reverberated and rang in your ears, screeching flatline so explicit you wondered if your eardrums had popped. They definitely hadn't. Not from mere water droplets. Something worse would have to happen.

The creaking gained a pattern, drawing nearer with each reoccurrence. You heard panting from outside the worn-down door. Heavy, meteoric knocks against the timber surface. One, two, three fast raps before— "Let me in!" A voice shouted from outside, panicked.

"Let me in!" A repeat, although with palpable urgency and faster knocks.

"Please!" Four, five, six.

"You have to let me in!" Seven, eight…

"He's going to kill me, please!” Sobbing now, banging at the door pleadingly. “Open the door!" Nine… Ten.

…

Silence. Ten knocks before it went silent. In a way betraying your guilt, you breathed out heavily. An exhale of relief exited you as doubt of your humanity flashed through your mind. Patient still, you waited. A blood-curdling scream, the thud of a body hitting the ground, a gunshot.

You waited for one of the above. None came. Only sound in earshot being the monotonous dripping of water splashing and staining the dusty floor. A drink would do you good. Food would do you even better.

—♡—

You felt hungry watching him.

You had been for the few hours he'd rummaged through the village. Pupils observing his every move with carnality.

Walking around with so much determination, protecting that girl with such dedication. It was starving you to see him this way. Buildings obscuring your view of his restless being, slashing and striking at the undead around him. His hair, you decided, must have been used as thread in heaven; so soft, so fluffy. You watched as it bounced and scattered as he ran, lifting a hand to push it out of his eyes. Perfection in the flesh, all the nutrients spilling out of you.

He was with that girl again. Two blond heads traversing the ruined village you would otherwise be calling home. Cobwebs, desolation, and most prevalently, the groaning.

An uninspired, continuous groaning you had long grown tired of. It kept you awake at night, the gathered moaning of a brain-dead crowd calling from below you. It kept you petrified throughout the day, staying huddled and malnourished in an uncomfortable corner just so you could live to see your supplementary sunset. The only things that haven’t changed: the yellow sun and its blanched blue moon.

You watched as the girl followed closely behind him-- ‘Leon’, she had screamed numerous times; ‘Ashley’, he had returned. He protected her with diligence and care, cool and collected in manner from what you managed to see.

Verging on kissing the attic window just to get a closer look at him.

Gnawing against dry bone and flossing the flesh out from in-between your teeth. Eating your family. What was left of them, at least. No man could do that— You could never do that, but the thoughts kept you curious. Kept you sane. You thought of it while biting into your hand so hard it marked, so hard it bled. Oozing crimson red to pool in shallow tooth-shaped ditches. Hungry.

You blinked back to reality as the muffled sound of Leon calling for Ashley grazed your ears. Your eyes were glued on the pair as they slowly faded from your vision.

You sunk down to the floor as you released a snicker of sorts, raising your hand to inspect its veins for the nostalgic flow of human blood.

One day, you resolved, you would eat him.

um. i dont write horror, wanted to give you something for october though. hope you enjoyed. thank you for reading ♡

#leon kennedy #leon x reader #re4 remake #re4 #not proofread #resident evil

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genavere · 2 years ago

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February Whump Prompts – 2023, DAY 9: Voice Loss

Content Warnings: Minor Swearing Fandom: Fairy Tail - Natsu x Lucy

Knife to the Throat - Part 1 | 2 | 3

Struggling with Change

Natsu laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling above him. Cobwebs had gathered around the trusses and he was certain that was a new nest being built up there. It had been a long time since he had looked at his ceiling.

Not Lucy’s, which was spotless and the only flying creature was Happy. Once a bat had gotten into her apartment and he had laughed at how badly she had been freaking out over it. Yelling and screaming at him to catch it, her voice a shrill tone that made his ears ring.

Hands rubbed his face and he tossed himself onto his side. Who cared if there were spiders and birds living above his head, not like anyone would tell him to clean it up. And no one but him and Happy lived there, so it did not matter.

But those were lies, he knew it, and if anyone else had been there, they would have said the same thing. There was one person who would care. The very person who he had thought about living in the run-down home of his with them for a while. If he could do or trade anything to get her back, he would do it in a hard beat.

Not that she was gone physically, the sensible part of his head reminded him. For some reason, that part of his brain had become louder lately. He hated it. Of course, he knew that she was still around physically. When he last saw her a week ago, she had slapped him.

And rightfully so, sensibility spoke up again.

But not only that, she had run off in tears. And that night, when he tried to visit her, the window to her apartment was locked and the curtains shuttered. By the lack of sound that came through the window, he figured she had fallen asleep crying, or she had locked herself in the bathroom. The farthest point away from the windows, and the farthest away she could get from him.

The lights inside had been off, too, so no shadows could tell him anything, either.

It meant she had hidden herself in both silence and darkness just to keep from seeing him.

And all because he was too fucking stupid to be useful to her, or even a decent friend. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Scenes filled his mind of her choking on her own blood, coughing up the liquid as it filled her mouth and throat. The smell of burning flesh—her burning flesh hung around him as he tried to keep her from bleeding out. To save her life.

How could he even forget the sight of her throat slashed open so deeply. Even Porlyusica said it had been a miracle Lucy had survived the injury, the coma, and all the infections that came after. They were lucky to still have her, and that the only last effects would be the scar, which Wendy said she would do her best to lessen, and her inability to ever talk again.

And that was where his own inabilities came crashing down on them.

Without the use of her voice—not being able to yell at him or whisper stories to him at night, she needed to learn a new way to communicate. Since Levy had quickly learned and mastered the form of sign language, she began teaching them in small groups. Team Natsu was the first to start learning, with Lucy.

Of course, Lucy was a genius. It had been no surprise that she quickly picked up the new skill, even as she was recovering. Since they were the only ones able to understand each other in the guild, it became a game between Levy and her to pass secrets in the middle of everyone in the main hall. One thing Lucy signed had made the blunette snort in laughter before she could help herself.

It frustrated him. That had been something he had done with Lucy, between soft whispers back and forth. Each tried their hardest to make the other laugh the loudest until there was a clear loser. Now, she had a clear advantage.

He frowned. Why would he even think such a thing? Losing her voice had hurt her more than anyone really knew, but he had seen the shadows in her eyes. The growing circles under her eyes. The depressed looks when she thought no one was paying attention.

Any life and humor she could get back in her life, she should be able to try for unconditionally.

Yet, he had been a fool. Learning to how write and read in one language had been hard enough, let alone trying to learn a second language he had to use his hands for. Even when Levy had suggested he just learn to read the hand motions, he would forget them as soon as they went to the next. It frustrated him. It frustrated Levy.

And it had hurt Lucy the most.

When he had last seen her, a week ago now, he had grown so frustrated by his lack of ability to retain any of the motions that he finally snapped. It had been almost two months since the mission that nearly took her from him. Even those nights he slept next to her in her bed, he had nightmares of it.

Waking up in a cold sweat, panicked that she had actually died in his arms, drove his mental state to the brink. It was hard to function normally when he got enough sleep. It was nigh impossible to do anything with barely any.

Instead of sleep, he often found himself pushing himself physically. Training his body to be stronger, his magic easier to control, maneuver, and to be stronger. If he had been faster, stronger…better!

“Fuck!” He threw himself from the bed and stalked the shadows to the middle of the house. His chest and shoulders raised with each deep breath he took in. The sweat on his chest glistened in the moonlight that streamed through the window.

The memory of watching Levy’s hands make the weird symbols again came to mind. Even now, he could not name a single one she did. It just proved that he was not good enough for Lucy. Why would she even consider moving in with him and Happy? Her apartment was way nicer. Did not have trees growing through it. Or spiderwebs on the ceiling, or birds building nests inside.

He could not keep her safe. He could not learn how to communicate with her. He was nothing that she could have.

In his eyes, she deserved the world and someone to love her unconditionally. Someone who could and would do everything in their power to make her happy and overcome any challenges.

That was clearly not him.

He had blown up in frustration at Levy. Had knocked the chair over as he realized how stupid he was. And found that he could say things that could truly hurt the one who stole his heart.

“Gah! I can’t do this, Levy!” Had she just said sorry? No, maybe it was thank you? Hell, it could have been a letter and he had no idea. “This won’t work, and I can’t learn this.”

“You will eventually, Natsu,” Levy said. The twitch under her eyes told a different story. “If you want to communicate with Lucy, you will need to learn this.”

“It’s not like I can’t talk!” He felt his temper flare and he was about ready to burn every book in the library. Then he saw the look on the blunette’s face, and heard the sound of footsteps coming towards him. He knew the pattern of those.

Turning, he had just glanced up at Lucy’s eyes when her hand caught his face. The slap stung, and the flesh immediately pulsed and flushed. By the time he looked back at her, she had just finished moving her hands and rushed away from him. Salt filled the air after her.

Behind him, Levy quickly got up and came around the table. “Hey, Natsu…you might want to give her some space, okay? I am going to see if I can calm her down.”

If Levy had been able to give any comfort to the blonde, he had no idea. Her window had been locked, along with the door. Gajeel refused to let him talk to Levy after telling him what an asshole he was.

That was not anything he needed to be told. He knew it already.

He had hurt her, badly. Had made her cry because he was too stupid to keep his mouth shut. Why he had decided to say something so idiotic was beyond him. But he had to fix it. Had to do something!

The only place he knew who might be able to help him was Sabertooth. Sting or Rogue could help him find what he needed, what they had been looking for, for the last two months. Without a note or message, he left. Lucy did not need him around at the moment, not when all he would do would hurt her more. If he could find what they needed, it would make everything better.

Not perfect. No, he knew he had a lot of work to manage that, but it would be a step in the right direction.

Going there and explaining what he needed had been the easiest part. Then it was figuring out the specifics that they needed. Once more, he found himself in a library and itched to burn every word contained there. But they could hold the secret to help Lucy, the sensible side reminded himself, and quenched the flames in him rapidly.

Next came finding the right items and a wizard able use their abilities to enhance the items. Warren would have been a great choice, but they had managed to find another like him in prowess.

Then it was coming home. And he had done that…yesterday.

Again, he showed his cowardice in not being able to face his best friend. No one knew he was back yet since Happy had stayed with Lucy since the accident. His little buddy had been a bigger help in healing and being a friend than he had been. It almost made him laugh at the absurdity of it.

He looked at the table by his couch, and the small chest that sat on top of it. Inside it, the hope of their future. The hope he had they would help save their future, he reminded himself. And with it, all he had to do was go to her. Apologize, and show her what he managed to get for her. For them. The original Team Natsu.

An image of her flashed in his mind, her eyes full of tears and hurt. Then it morphed and with the tears streaming down her face, blood flowed down her neck and stained her top.

Grabbing the chest, he flung the door open and ran barefoot down the path to get to Lucy’s. Nothing else mattered. If the window was locked, he would go to the door. If that was locked, he would break it down!

He had to see her. Had to drive those images from his mind and see her alive and whole and alive! She could slap him black and blue, he deserved it, but she would be alive while doing it.

The cobblestones of Strawberry Street passed under foot quickly and he jumped up to the second story window. Immediately, he could see lights on inside, but no movement, and the curtains were open. Carefully, he tugged at the bottom of the window and let out a breath of relief when it opened easily for him.

That did not mean she forgave him, he minded himself, but she was willing to let him in. That was the first step he needed.

Crawling onto her bed, he closed the window behind him and took a glance around the small room. It was in a bit more disarray than it normally was. Books lined the coffee table and the floor around it. Clothes were strewn about—he realized that could have been Happy playing in the woman’s dresser drawers. Journals laid around the books with a feather pen on top of one, but there was no sight of Lucy.

Frowning, he jumped off the bed and moved further into the room. The air was dry, so no bath had been run, but the faint smell of food suggested that they had eaten a short bit ago. Why would they be eating in the middle of the night and not sleeping?

Entering the kitchen, he found his quarry and could not help but smile. Curled up on Lucy’s lap, Happy snoozed comfortable with a blanket over him and her legs. On the top, itself, the top part of her body was slouched over several books as she slumbered. A half-full cup of tea sat cold next to the books indicating that she had tried to keep herself awake with the liquid before sleep won out.

Curiosity pulled him to look over the Celestial Mage’s shoulder and see what she had been reading. Each book that laid open had different hand movements that had words next to them. Sign language, he realized and frowned. Why would she be studying something she already seemed so good at? Another book caught his attention. How to train the most idiotic person anything.

His eye twitched.

He should be flattered, but that book felt like it was taunting him to burn it. The author, too. Maybe one of these days, he should go for a hunt to find said author for writing like that. Still…if she was working so hard to figure out ways to teach him, maybe he should give it a shot. Everything that Levy had been trying to teach him had failed spectacularly so far.

Setting the chest down on the table, he carefully went to his partner and gathered her up in his arms. Surprisingly, he managed to keep Happy in her lap as he lifted her up. Both continued sleeping, and judging by the dark circles under their eyes, they both needed the rest.

“Let’s get you to bed, Luce.”

Kissing her forehead, he inhaled her scent deeply and headed for her bedroom. Tomorrow, he would show her the contents of the chest and explain his disappearance. He would apologize as he should have done, and ask her to teach him instead. With her, he felt he could achieve anything. It did not matter if they could not communicate with words anymore, they were a team and would always be one.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I saw another prompt that dealt with voice loss, I knew that it would be perfect to continue with the other stories where Lucy had her throat cut. I was expecting to have them actually converse before the story ended, but the way it played out worked better, I feel. It also opened up the story to continue.

Day 9 of these prompts and I am so proud of myself for being able to accomplished writing one for each day so far! Only 19 days left, and I hope doing will settle in a routine for myself and I can get some of my own original work done.

Hope you all enjoyed this!

Links to AO3 | FF.net

@febuwhump | @millennial-star-gazer

#febuwhump2023 #febuwhump #Febuwhumpday9 #whump #Tumblr prompt #Nalu #fairy tail fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #natsu x lucy #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #happy (ft)#Mute Lucy

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nyangtokkiz · 2 years ago

Text

Tether (Atsushi Nakajima x Akutagawa Ryuunosuke)

Words like thank you. A promise to have each other’s backs next time, too. A reminder that they were here. That they stayed alive again. That I’m here, if you need me. We’re in this together always.

You have me.

Read on AO3

There’s a bug by the door.

Akutagawa is sitting on some dirty motel floor, bleeding out, wounds all over his body, and there’s a bug by the door.

It’s been caught in a cobweb, thin legs scrambling to get out of the sticky restraints. Akutagawa stares at it blearily, pointedly ignoring how his vision was starting to spin, and tries to search his brain for a metaphor.

He snorts instead. Closes his eyes. Lets his head fall back against the wall.

He’s bleeding out.

“What’s so funny?”

Listens to the sound of shuffling and muffled traffic.

“I’m bleeding out.”

He peeks one eye open, watching as bare skin and white hair fill his vision. The hand that he was pressing against the deepest wound in a sad attempt to stop the bleeding is suddenly pried away, replaced with a white cloth that the blood immediately soaks into.

Akutagawa internally winces at the thought of having to wash that.

“Wasn’t aware you and Dazai-san had the same humor now.”

He ignores the annoyed response, noting the concealed panic. He busies himself with trying to shift in place instead, finding that his other leg was now numb, then regrets it immediately when a flash of pain twinges up his spine. Fuck.

Atsushi sends him a sharp glare. Pinches his numb leg. “Stop moving.”

Akutagawa glares back weakly. “My leg is numb.”

“Akutagawa, you’re bleeding out. Just shut up. Quiet. Nothing from you until I stop the bleeding.”

And so Atsushi patches him up, just like he's done for every other mission, and Akutagawa loses himself to the sound of his partner’s labored breathing and worried glances. Akutagawa tries to reassure him. He wasn’t dying. They both know this. There’s no reason for Atsushi to look so panicked. He’s really had worse than this.

No words come out of his mouth.

Atsushi had worked quickly, but it still takes them a couple minutes to relocate from the floor to the bed due to the fear of reopening any stitches. Once they’re finally close enough, he gets propped up on two single beds pushed together.

(In his almost feverish state, Akutagawa scrambles his brain for when Atsushi had the time to move the beds. Distantly remembers a double bed when they first checked in.

Wonders when they started booking one bed rooms.)

Atsushi is still shirtless when he comes back from washing whatever he could in the bathroom, hands wringing a hand towel tinted in pink and blotches of red. They meet eyes, and both of them shiver when a cold draft filters into the room from the slightly ajar window.

He breaks Atsushi’s gaze and turns to eye the white dress shirt discarded to the side. It was completely soaked in blood, so it was an unspoken rule that it was to be burned later. There was no hope of saving it.

In the back of his mind, he thinks of the bug.

“Put something on.”

Atsushi snickers, but doesn’t look up from where he’s busy wrapping the spare bandages around his wrists. (Un)fortunately, years of fighting had resulted in Atsushi being leaner, broader, more defined. He wasn’t all big muscles, but there was a certain strength to Atsushi now that he’s gotten more confident.

And he sees this again in the way Atsushi looks up and smirks-

“Want me to waltz down to a family friendly store like this to buy us clothes and buy you some candy too?”

Akutagawa stiffens. Forces his gaze away for the second time in less than a minute.

“Idiot. I meant my coat.” Atsushi snorts, but dutifully follows his order. The next words come out of his mouth before he can stop it. “If you catch a cold, who's going to take care of you? I’m clearly out of commission.”

“Huh. That implies that if you were fine, you’d be taking care of me.”

“You see anyone else here?”

Akutagawa fires back, easily, quickly, but he prays to any god out there that his voice wasn’t as shaky as he thinks. Some morbid part of him hopes he lost enough blood to the point that a blush wasn’t possible.

Atsushi doesn’t answer, but Akutagawa does see him grin. He watches as his white haired partner picks up his coat— tattered around the edges, but it was still in a condition good enough that it was wearable— slipping in one arm at a time.

It fits him perfectly.

(Akutagawa knows this. He’s seen him wear it a hundred times.)

(But fuck, it’s different when they’re not in battle.)

So, for the third time that night, he looks away.

Seconds later, the bed dips. The weight wasn’t enough to jostle him, but it was there. Calming. Grounding. Atsushi sits near his legs, facing the window as he fiddles with their emergency phone. “Get some rest. I’ll keep guard until they come pick us up.”

“Taking them an awful long time.”

“They’re your goons.”

“Ngh.” Akutagawa simply grunts in reply, forgetting that the Port Mafia was leading this mission. The lines have been blurring too much lately.

It takes a couple more minutes for him to rest comfortably, the adrenaline from the battle and staying alive still thrumming in his veins. He’s sure Atsushi feels it too, with how the other shifts and stands and sits back down again, but he never suggests they get up and get back to base on their own.

(Or Atsushi could just leave him here. Get back on his own. Akutagawa could wait by himself like he’s done a million times before. They both know this, but none of them acknowledge it.)

So Akutagawa yawns when the inevitable wave of fatigue from a battle and sleepiness washes over him. Doesn’t fight it like he would have a year or two ago. Lets his eyes slip shut. If he focused enough, he could hear Atsushi tapping his foot against the floor impatiently.

“Wake me in 15. Switch on lookout.”

“Mhm.”

“Atsushi.”

He feels more than he hears the responding chuckle. Lets the sounds soak into his weary bones. Feels a finger poke at his leg in reprimand. “I’ll wake you. Get some rest, Akutagawa.”

And so he does. He sleeps, and he trusts in his partner to keep him safe while he’s in a vulnerable state.

But the next time he wakes up, it’s not in 15 minutes. It’s not to the dirty motel room with a bug trapped in a cobweb by the door. It’s not to his bloodied, battered, and bruised post-fight body.

It’s to the beeping of a heart monitor.

He sees the white room, the white sheets, the white professionally wrapped bandages around his wounds, and he sighs. The Port Mafia guards by the door glance at him and confirm he’s awake, but they stay in their position.

It’s not long before he spots the cup on the bedside table as well, and the faint scent of fresh jasmine tea is enough to make him groan.

“Stupid,” is what he says, but his heart sings another word. A smile desperately tries to claw its way to his lips, but he pushes it down and smothers his face in a pillow to make sure it behaves.

He’s unbelievably annoyed at Atsushi for not waking him up so they could switch on keeping guard. God knows how long it took for his useless subordinates to come for them. He’s really fucking annoyed. He is.

He’s…

Slipping his hand under the pillow that his head was resting on, it doesn’t take long for him to find the chipped and hanging by a thread outdated smartphone. The thing was on the verge of death, but it was reliable for missions.

His fingers type fast, but there’s a slight shake to them that he steadfastly ignores.

To: ADA Nakajima Atsushi I told you to wake me.

The reply takes less than a second.

From: ADA Nakajima Atsushi oops. my bad.

It’s not like his crush on Atsushi was a secret.

No, in fact, he hasn’t really tried to hide it either. It was a bit of a surprise when he realized his heart pumped just a tiny bit faster when the weretiger was around, but it was something he’d come to accept as easily as fish in water.

After all, they’ve been through too much already.

It’s been long since the truce started. It hadn’t been easy at first, though: he and Atsushi fought constantly, got on each other’s nerves, miscommunicated, and made decisions (mostly Atsushi) that troubled the other (mostly Akutagawa) greatly.

And they did try to kill each other more than once. That was something pretty hard to forget.

But despite it all, they were the New Double Black. They were partners.

So in time, things eventually changed.

(Maybe it was the thousands of near death experiences and saving each other’s asses that helped him accept the revelation easily. Maybe it was the steady weight of a body supporting him as they limped back home. Maybe it was the smell of antiseptic and the press of warm calloused fingers patching him up. Maybe it was the times when there was the smell of fresh jasmine tea wafting in through an ajar door— gently waking him from the nightmares that chained his body to bed.)

(Maybe it was the day-afters, when they’ve finished up the job and written all the reports. When a nod meant a million things. A thank you. A promise to have each other’s backs next time, too. A reminder that they were here. That they stayed alive. That I’m here, if you need me. We’re in this together now.)

(You have me.)

And Akutagawa wasn’t one to trust easily, no, he’s learned his lesson with that. Akutagawa wasn’t one to just accept that he maybe (totally) had the biggest crush on his ex enemy turned partner. But apparently, things change when it comes to Atsushi.

Things like... the comfort of his own bed.

He doesn’t exactly miss the hard, smelly, cramped motel beds, god no. Not the overly large, luxurious, rose scented round beds the Port Mafia provide when they had the time and the money either. But lately, Akutagawa finds himself unsettled when he gets home from back to back week long missions. Not like before, when he all but collapses in relief every time he got the chance to be in the safety of his own apartment.

He does his usual routine; he calls Gin, assures her he’s okay and that he’ll visit soon. He takes a long, long hot bath with as many bath bombs as possible. He curls up in his favorite reading chair with a cup of jasmine tea. He indulges in splurging for an expensive painting he’s been eyeing for months.

But it still felt wrong. Even the tea tasted wrong. Jesus.

So by the time Akutagawa finally crawls into bed, the sun is crawling up the horizon, and his back and eyes are aching from the amount of reports he distracted himself with. But as soon as he gets under the covers, fully intending to sleep the restlessness away, he’s hit with a wave of... something.

Something he hasn’t felt for a very long time. Something he had gotten better at dealing with before, but it seemed as if he was back to square one now. Something he detested, something he hated, no matter how much he liked being alone at times.

Loneliness-

beep beep beep beep

Akutagawa startles. Stares at the ceiling in confusion.

The noises happens again not even less than a second later, and it takes his fatigue muddled brain about 5 seconds to realize that oh shit, that was his phone. The one that wasn’t for missions.

This time he sits up, and swipes it off the nightstand.

From: ADA Nakajima Atsushi haha you

From: ADA Nakajima Atsushi [Video: a cat hissing and then happily licking a finger and then hissing again.]

Akutagawa squints at the message, then blinks.

What about him?

He doesn’t reply, but the video was cute, so he lies back down and curls on his side and plays the video over and over again. Drags his thumb against the screen gently. Clicks play again.

Distantly, he ponders on the fact that Atsushi was awake. He wonders if he’s unsettled as he was.

Then, as if summoned, his phone rings.

He presses answer and speaks first. “Why are you awake?”

Silence. Then, “why are you awake?”

“I asked first.”

“Well, I asked second.”

Akutagawa rolls his eyes. “You’re acting like a child.” No answer. “Are you sticking your tongue out right now?”

“No.” A scoff. Akutagawa knows he’s lying. “Did you finish your report?”

And so, they talk about work, because that’s all they ever seem to do. And just as the first rays of sunshine slither through the slits in his curtains, Akutagawa starts to doze off. His head lols forward slowly then jerks back up, catching himself at the very last second. Atsushi’s mindless chatter can be heard throughout the entire room— Akutagawa put him on speaker an hour ago— but he can hear the other’s speech slurring. Like he was fighting sleep too.

Akutagawa should tell him to shut up, that he lost track of what he was talking about maybe thirty minutes ago, but he then finds that he's too tired to move his mouth. So he lets Atsushi blabber on, and situates the phone beside his head.

It was oddly familiar.

(He can’t count on one hand how many times they’ve fallen asleep next to each other. He also can’t remember when he’s gotten used to it.)

Just as the short hand on the clock brushes against the number six, Atsushi’s voice finally lulls him to the sleep that they both so desperately needed after weeks of risking their lives.

This time, his chest finally settles.

“Are you stupid?!”

Akutagawa paces back and forth, eyes staring daggers at Atsushi who was hanging off the side of a 30 storey building, fully intent on climbing all the way to the top.

“Maybe I am!” Atsushi bites back just as harsh, teeth gritting as he pulls himself up. Rashoumon buzzes restlessly, almost as if she was going to dart out and save Atsushi herself if Akutagawa wasn’t going to do it.

Akutagawa reminds himself again that he couldn’t. He had another job to do. Atsushi had a job to do. He couldn’t- now wasn’t the time to-

“Akutagawa!”

He’s jeopardizing the missio-

“Ryuunosuke, you fucking idiot! Get it together!”

He startles at the use of his first name, mouth gaping at Atsushi. “Did you just-“

“You need to move! We have to get there at the same time, remember?! You need to go.”

Akutagawa opens his mouth to reply, but then Atsushi’s claws fumble on the edge for the slightest second and his heart is jumping to his throat.

Once he steadies himself, Atsushi shakes his head, but he isn’t looking at Akutagawa.

Rashoumon— frozen halfway between the two— slowly slinks back to his coat, and Akutagawa has half the mind to note that he activated her unconsciously.

“I’ll be fine.”

It’s almost a reflex when he replies, “I know.”

But I still worry is left unsaid.

“Go,” Atsushi tells him again, gentler this time, but Akutagawa still hesitates.

He was stuck. He couldn’t move.

Distantly, he thinks, this is what that fucking bug felt.

They’ve done this a hundred, maybe a thousand times now. This isn’t the first time Atsushi did something that had the possibility of costing him his life. It wasn’t Akutagawa's first time either. This was the normal. Every mission, they risk their lives. Every mission could be the last. One of them could die right now. They could both die right now.

(He knows this. They know this. They’ve known this even before they were partners. So why-)

(Why was it so hard to go?)

Say it.

“Atsushi, I-“

“Go, Akutagawa.” Atsushi looked angry now, fangs and claws extending, stance defensive.

But on top of that, he looked desperate. He looked as desperate as Akutagawa felt, eyes swimming with emotion Akutagawa only allowed himself to have a glimpse of before.

He shoves down the urge to look away.

“Please.”

And so their eyes meet properly, and it’s in that split second that Akutagawa finally understands.

With every bit of strength that he had, he turns on his heel and runs.

Not now.

They complete the mission.

Of course they do. They were the New Double Black.

They’re successful, but each step that Akutagawa takes is heavier than the last.

His body is heavy, bones aching and wounds stinging, but his eyes frantically search through the rubble. There’s still fire from the previous bomb, and Akutagawa fears it’s going to find some gas to cling onto and cause another explosion.

He runs faster.

Thankfully, not a minute later, he finds him. Of course he does.

He quickly spots the mix of white and black on the edge of the forest, right where the explosion ended, and the weight that lifts from Akutagawa’s shoulders at the sight of Atsushi is enough for him to get there in mere seconds.

He’s awake when Akutagawa steps into his line of vision.

Their gazes meet.

“Told you I’d be fine.”

I know. Is what he wants to say. The words bubble in his throat, but they don’t come out.

However, it’s at that moment, that Akutgawa finds it in himself to laugh. It’s a short, abrupt laugh, and it’s pained. Atsushi blinks at him, startled. It’s the first time he’s laughed openly in front of him.

They’ve done this a hundred times before, but it’s the first time he’s let the fear of losing Atsushi actually consume him. He had been scared. He still is.

But he’s an idiot. They both were.

So Akutagawa breathes in deeply— once, twice— and then lets himself fall.

This time, the wave of emotions doesn't wash over him slowly. Instead, it punches him straight in the chest, quite literally knocking the breath out of him. His knees wobble, and he was the less injured one, but Atsushi’s fast reflexes still let him manage to catch Akutagawa when he crumbles to the ground.

He’s bleeding out.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke slumps forward, and finds home in the crook of Nakajima Atsushi’s neck.

His heart is bleeding out.

Atsushi freezes in place at first, stiffening at the foreign feeling of a warm body pressed so close— the warm body of his ex-enemy no less— but he melts into the embrace just as fast as he hesitated.

It’s quiet for a few seconds, until a hand tentatively curls around the back of his neck.

“No dramatic confessions when we’re on the verge of death, alright? Don’t do that.”

A laugh bubbles out Akutagawa’s throat again.

This time, it’s unintentional, and it’s filled with disbelief. Atsushi keeps trying to pull back to look at him, presumably to look at his laughing face, but Akutagawa stays firmly rooted to his hiding place. Shuts his eyes and presses his forehead against a collarbone. Not yet.

“Would you have let it end like that, then?”

“Huh?”

“If one of us had died.” He says it bluntly, like the words didn’t stick a sharp knife straight to his heart and twisted. “If we had both died. Would you have been fine with-“

“I knew.” Atsushi whispers, and time stills. “Even if you didn’t say it— even if you don’t ever say it— I knew. I know.” Then he stops, as if embarrassed, but continues, almost shyly, “and... I hope you do too.”

Akutagawa begs his heart to stop beating so fast. It was embarrassing. Atsushi could probably feel it with how close they were pressed together. His hands were shaking too, he could feel it. They both could. The fingers intertwining with his and squeezing proved so.

God, you idiot. I do.

(So, Akutagawa leans in close, closer than they’ve ever been, and warm calloused fingers trail up to cup heated porcelain skin. The hand at his hair tightens, and they press closer and closer— as if the world would end if they so much as left an inch between them.)

(He uses his own lips to press words that he wants to say and will say over and over again onto pink chapped lips. Words like thank you. A promise to have each other’s backs next time, too. A reminder that they were here. That they stayed alive again. That I’m here, if you need me. We’re in this together always.)

(And finally, you have me, as I have you.)

#shin soukoku #atsuaku #bungo stray dogs

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 1 month ago

Text

Snapshots of a day….

Three hours sleep, pain, physical and emotional, instead.

A ladder with no floor beneath one leg.

The bottom of a large metal drum, falling away when lifted.

A snake skin hanging from a cobweb in the attic.

A mummified cat it’s dead face grinning at me from behind a box. (I yelp)

Crawling as fast as I could through dust and dark, over and over.

Something moving in that dark next to me.

Hands and arms black as moonless midnight, hair that had been gold fading to white now the color of a dark cloudy dusk.

Blood. So much blood. Will the soot turn some of these into tattoos?

A tin toy walkie talkie from the 1940s and a slingshot whittled by my father as a boy.

A crumbling box of jewelry, all of it either broken or orphaned earrings.

Vacuum roaring and hose snaking from outside the house.

A broken things surrounded by parts, beside it the thing I needed to fix it, also broken, surrounded by it’s parts, next to both a pile of tools.

Improvising. Then improvising again to get the thing I’m improvising to work.

Peanuts from the field: a grocery bag of shells and dirt beside two cups of actual nuts.

Ryoga’s lips as delicately took this year’s last grape skin from my fingers. Poor piggy losing all his local treats from the winter.

Hera, old and skeletal, inside the doghouse, inhaling her canned dog food as I try to hug the other four dogs to keep them from eating it.

A helicopter towed by a truck down the highway.

A pine needle tapping at the windshield louder than knuckles as I drive.

A large jack, a pile of wood, a crowbar, a shovel, waiting in the hall.

The smell of death hovering around on the way to Ryoga’s but with no sign of source.

Woodworm dust piles trickling down a wall.

Lying on the ground next to the dried up swamp, clutching turkey feathers and staring into the tree tops above.

Blood red mushrooms that are all withered or broken.

A piece of gravel that looks like a brain with dusty small crystals in the folds.

A chunk of glass smooth to the touch but all cracks inside.

Moving things. Things I waited too long to move. Rust, rot, decay of all kinds, but some can be salvaged.

Limping to watch the sun getting low.

A swim in water icy clear and cold, accompanied by yowls. My last swim?

Nony the cat’s wide eyed horror as he jumped on the edge of the pool for the first time and saw me swimming. I agree. Madness in October.

A sooty handprint on the milk jug.

The last piece of last Halloween’s leftover candy. Nony trying to pull the tootsie pop stick from my mouth.

A phone message for Angela about her job application…I don’t even know an Angela.

Three text messages for Dennis about the election. I know no Dennis.

The third version of a message I’m writing asking a favor so I can spend one last birthday with Mom.

#my day #rambles

0 notes

spicebiter · 3 months ago

Text

Watch List- English Language Movies (Latest Update Nov. 6, 2024)

My extensive movies list. Not numbered because tumblr has a character limit in blocks of text that affect numbered lists apparently, but fyi before you open the read more there are 300+ entries in this list.

Because of the sheer number of things I want to watch I’m separating my watch list posts into four categories. I keep them separate primarily for organization so I can decide what to watch based different variables (mood, time, language, etc)

I’m pretty much constantly adding things to all of my lists- hence why I’m amending when this was last updated to the title itself- and will update this post anytime I update the wheel I use to randomize my next choice, which usually happens after I’ve added or subtracted a significant number of options.

3096 Days

48 Hrs.

8MM

A Bucket of Blood

A Fistful of Dollars

A Matter of Life and Death (1946)

A Tale of Two Sisters

A.I. Artificial Intelligence

All About Evil

All Eyes

All of Us Strangers

All Hollows Eve

Alyce Kills (2011)

American Guinea Pig

American Mary

An American Crime

Antlers

Apostle (2018)

Area 51

Arrival

Artemis 81

Asylum of Satan

Audition

August Underground

Baby Driver

Bad Boy Bubby

Bad Influence (1990)

Basic Instinct

Bathory

Beauty and the Beast (1946)

Being Human (US)

Below (2002)

Beyond the Black Rainbow

Bird Box

Black Sheep

Black Mountain Side

Black Narcissus (1947)

Blade series

Blade Runner

Bleed With Me

Blood Quantum

Blue Velvet

Bones and All

Brain Damage (1988)

Brand Upon the Brain

Buffalo ‘66

Bullet Train

Butchers (2020)

By Any Means

Byzantium

Cabin Fever

Campfire Tales (1997)

Cannibal

Cannibal Apocalypse

Captain Kronos Vampire Hunter

Cargo

Chained (2012)

Chernobyl Diaries

Cherry Falls

Christopher Robin

Cobweb (2023)

Cohasset Snuff Film

Cold Skin

Constantine

Crank (2006)

Crash

Crowsnest

Cujo

Curfew (1989)

Cut (2000)

Dark Harvest

Dark Places

Day of the Dead

Daybreakers

Dead Birds

Dead Body (2017)

Dead Calm

Dead Ringers

Dead Silence

Dead Snow

Deadstream

Deathdream

Deathwatch

Dementia 13

Detective Pikachu

Devil's Advocate

Diabolique

Dig (2018)

Digging Up the Marrow

Don't Worry Darling

Dragonslayer

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Duel

Eden Lake

Electric Dreams

Eraserhead

Estranged

Even Lambs Have Teeth (2015)

Eve’s Bayou

Ex Machina

Extracurricular (2018)

Eyes in the Dark

Eyes Wide Shut

Feed

Feral (2017)

Fertile Ground

Flatliners

Flowers (2015)

Found (2012)

Fox Trap (2016)

Frankenstein

Frankenstein’s Army

From Black

Funny Games

Gaia (2021)

Ganja and Hess

Gentleman's Agreement

GetAWAY (2020)

Ghost Ship

Girl in the Bunker

Glass Onion

Godzilla series

Good Time

Goodnight Mommy

Gray Man

Grotesque

Guillermo Del Toro's Pinocchio

Hacksaw Ridge

Hard Candy

Hatchet (2006)

Head Count

Headless (2015)

Hear No Evil

Hell House

Her Name Was Torment

High Tension

His House

Home for the Holidays (1972)

Honeydew

Honeymoon (2014)

Hotel Hell

Hotel Inferno

House of Flesh Mannequins

House on the Hill

House That Jack Built

Howl (2015)

Humanoids From the Deep

I Am Elizabeth Smart

I Saw the TV Glow

Identity (2003)

Imperium

Imprint (2006)

In Her Skin

In The Mouth of Madness

Inception

Infinity Pool

Inland Empire

Interview (1998)

It Comes at Night

It's Such A Beautiful Day

Jack the Bear

Jacob’s Ladder

Jaws

Jug Face

Juice (1992)

Just Before Dawn

Kill List

Kissed (1996)

Lake Nowhere

Last House on the Left (1972)

Last Shift

Leave

Legend (1985)

Lemora: A Child's Tale of the Supernatural

Leviathan

Life (2017)

Lisa Frankenstein

Little Deaths

Little Monsters

Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels

Longlegs

Lord of the Rings

Love Exposure

Love Lies Bleeding

Lovely, Dark, and Deep

Lovely Molly

Mama

Mandrake

Maniac (2012)

Marionette (2020)

May (2002)

Mayhem (2017)

Megan is Missing

Melancholia

Memories of Murder

Mister Creep (2022)

Mockingbird Don’t Sing

Monkey Man (2024)

Mukavemet (2022)

Murder By Numbers

My Own Private Idaho

Need for Speed (2014)

Night of the Creeps

Nocturnal Demon

Nope

November (2017)

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

Only Lovers Left Alive

Orphan

Pandora and the Flying Dutchman (1951)

Pearl

Phantom of the Opera

Phantom of the Paradise

Phantom Thread

Phase IV

Pig (2010)

Poltergeist

Poor Things

Poughkeepsie Tapes

Predator

Premium Rush

Primer

Prisoners (2013)

Psycho Goreman

Rabid (1977)

Rawhide

Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarves

Requiem for a Dream

River’s Edge

Roadhouse

Robot Dreams

Rope (1948)

Rose Red

Safe (1995)

Satan's Servant (2020)

Scanners

Sea Fever

Seasoning House

Seed (2007)

Serial Mom

Session 9

Shark Side of the Moon

Shrew’s Nest

Silver Bullet

Small Soldiers

Smokin’ Aces

Snatch

Sole Survivor

Some Like It Hot

Sometimes they Come Back

Sonic the Hedgehog

Splice

Splinter

St. Maud

Star Time (1992)

Star Wars series

Still Breathing

Stoic (2009)

Straight Edge Kegger (2019)

Student Body (2022)

Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat

Sunshine (2007)

Super Dark Times

Suspiria (1977)

Swallow (2019)

Swiss Army Man

Talon Falls (2017)

Tank Girl

Terrifier

Terror Vision

The Abyss

The Atticus Institute (2015)

The Awakening

The Babadook

The Beach House

The Beyond

The Block Island Sound

The Boston Strangler

The Breed

The Burrowers (2008)

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari

The Cave (2005)

The Color Purple

The Dark

The Deeper You Dig

The Devil's Carnival

The Divide (2011)

The Dunwich Horror

The Dyatlov Pass Incident

The Endless

The Evil of Frankenstein

The Girl With All the Gifts

The Gracefield Incident

The Happening

The Haunting (1963)

The Invisible Man (2020)

The Killing Kind

The Lair of the White Worm

The Last Broadcast

The Last Exorcism

The Last Unicorn

The Lazarus Effect

The Lords of Salem

The Machinist

The Matrix series

The Menu

The Midnight Meat Train

The Night Flier

The Old Ways

The Omen

The Others

The Passenger

The People Under the Stairs

The Phantom of the Opera (2004)

The Pit

The Plague Dogs

The Quarry

The Red Shoes (1948)

The Reflecting Skin

The Relic

The Resurrected

The Serpent and the Rainbow

The Slayer

The Sleep Experiment

The Tall Man

The Tank

The Thaw

The Thief and the Cobbler

The Tommyknockers

The Triangle

The Triplets of Belleville

The Usual Suspects

The Void (2016)

The Vourdalak

The Wickerman

The Wisher (2002)

The White Reindeer

Thelma and Louise

They Live

Tigers are Not Afraid

Tombstone

Total Recall

Tremors

Triangle

Trilogy of Terror

Tron

Turning Red

Tusk

Twins of Evils

Underwater

Unearthed

Unhinged

V for Vendetta

Vamp

Velvet Buzzsaw

Videodrome

Violation

Virus:32 (2022)

Vivarium (2019)

We Are Not Alone

We Are Still Here

We Need to Talk About Kevin

We’re All Going to the World’s Fair

Wendell and Wild

What Josiah Saw

White Snake

White Zombie

Willow Creek

Wolf Creek

X (2022)

X-Men

You'll Like My Mother

Zodiac

Zombie (1979)

Zombillenium

#spiced #watch list

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redwinterroses · 3 years ago

Text

“Alright now—Pearl? Pearl.” Scar stopped in the path and put his hands on Pearl’s shoulders, stopping her. He had to look up a bit to meet her eyes—which, as always, were sparkling with mirth.

“Come on, Scar. Are you going to show me whatever this is or what?” There was a smile in her words and tugging at the corners of her mouth, and Scar grimaced. He hadn’t exactly explained anything, just said “Pearl can you come see something real quick” and she doubtless thought this was a run-of-the-mill Boatem prank. He forced his face into an approximation of his usual confident grin.

“Of course I’m gonna show you! It’s just… you know.” He released her shoulders and gave her arm a light, teasing punch. “I just need you to promise not to… freak out.”

“Why would I freak out?” Pearl peered at him more closely, her amusement finally fading. “Scar, are you okay?”

He… wasn’t going to answer that. “Just… just don’t overreact, okay?” Turning around, he took a deep breath and stepped into the shadow of Midnight Alley.

“Grian?” His voice echoed in the shadows. “I’ve got Pearl with me… we’re coming in, okay?”

Nothing moved other than the flicker of candles in the faint breeze, and Scar glanced back at Pearl, whose brow was slightly furrowed. “He’s, ah… he’s back there, somewhere,” he said. “Come on.”

They ventured further into the darkness. Which felt… thicker? It almost had a texture—something wispy and dry that got caught in Scar’s throat and made him cough. And the quiet… it was a lack of sound, but more than that it was as if any sound they made was swallowed up by a larger, hungrier silence. A pang of nervousness shot through Scar. He’d left Grian alone—what if he was in danger?

Some friend he was.

“Pearl, I think—”

“Stop.”

Pearl’s voice was tight, and when he turned to look at her she was pale—even more so than normal, her freckles standing out starkly against white cheeks—and her sword was drawn.

He held up his hands placatingly. “Whoa! What is—”

She grabbed his arm and tugged him back. “Scar, get behind me.”

“No, no, no—it’s just—”

“Scar, don’t argue.” He met her eyes and was taken aback to find them wide with fear. But the set of her mouth was hard and determined. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with. Get. Behind. Me.”

Scar swallowed. He wanted to protest, but the cobwebs in his lungs and the increasing feeling of wrongness in the Alley weighed on his shoulders like a suffocating blanket. And—to be fair. Pearl was scary.

Meekly, he stepped back and let Pearl lead the way, the enchantments on her blade casting a shifting violet glow on the cobbles at their feet. They moved deeper into the narrowing confines of Midnight Alley, and with every step Scar was more sure: something was very wrong, and he had left Grian behind.

He almost didn’t stop in time when Pearl came to an abrupt halt, a sharp breath hissing between her teeth. Scar looked around her—

And his brain stopped.

Something hovered in the air. The something was… massive. Too big for the space. Too big to comprehend, his mind forcing it into something smaller that he could process. It was a swirling cloud of purple and white, pulsing with void-energy that needled into Scar’s skull and fuzzed static around his vision. It was… it was a black hole. It was a mist. It was a flaming comet hurtling toward the earth. It was an explosion of silence. It was wings, and it was eyes, and it was looming over an unmoving Mumbo Jumbo.

Scar’s feet were locked to the pavement, and hands were curled into fists so tight he could feel blood stinging from half-moon cuts where his fingernails dug into his palms. His lungs were frozen, every instinct in his bones was screaming for him to run, that this wasn’t something meant to be seen by mortals, that he couldn’t breathe, that he was going to die, that Pearl was going to die, that Mumbo was already dead—

And then he saw the red in the midst of the storm.

He could never be sure that he had actually seen the creature’s body, or if his oxygen-starved brain fabricated what it wanted to see, but he did see it: the tattered remains of a red sweater tangled and scattering in the center of the being’s form.

He still couldn’t breathe.

“You!” Pearl shouted, raising her sword. Scar wasn’t sure exactly what a sword was supposed to do in this situation, but he didn’t exactly have the energy to stop her. Even as she stepped forward, his left knee gave out and he fell to the ground, barely catching himself and raising one hand to paw at his throat.

“Pearl—” he tried to rasp, but she didn’t hear him.

“Watcher!” Pearl’s voice cut sharply through the sound-swallowing air and the creature’s head snapped toward her, its face a spinning mass of eyes and teeth and something that looked like fear.

Pearl took a step, leaning forward as if into a driving wind. “You’re not welcome here!” she shouted. “Your kind have no power in this world.”

“Pearl—” Scar managed to gasp in a shallow breath, the name coming out more as a rasp than a word.

“I’m giving you one chance to leave in peace.” The creature hissed—and it was like a thousand nails scraping across a thousand glass panes. “Go!” Pearl shouted. “Or I’ll really give you something to watch!”

“Pearl!”

The creature lunged forward, its wings sweeping down. Windows shattered in the sudden vacuum, candles blowing out and leaving them in darkness lit only by a few soul lanterns and the gleam of Pearl’s sword. It snaked its face down toward Pearl, the onyx eyes shifting and morphing above a mouth that was nothing but emptiness and the burnt-ozone stench of the Void. It screamed, and the sound was a shattering symphony of terror and rage and pain.

Pearl’s hair was blasted back by the force of the roar, and she swung her sword back, ready to strike. “Alright—you asked for it, you bird-brained, overgrown—”

“Pearl!” Scar finally managed to drag a full breath into his laboring lungs and grabbed the back of her hoodie. She whirled on him.

“What, Scar!?”

He flapped a weak hand at the looming creature. “That’s Grian,” he managed, before a coughing fit doubled him over.

Pearl froze.

The creature didn’t move.

She lowered her sword.

“Oh, nuggets.”

#creacher grian au #hey haha look more eldritch creacher grian #redwinterwrites #grian #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft #I'll reblog this with links to the other parts later #for now they should all be under that first tag

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suzy-queued · 2 years ago

Text

Master Post: Maze of Terror

This story will be updated weekly, 100 words at a time, as part of @galladrabbles!

------------------

“That sound again.” Lip inches through the dark hallway. “One of these fuckers has a chainsaw.”

“Maze of Terror, my ass.” Ian whispers, staying brave.

They pass a cackling witch. An evil scientist.

The engine noises – and people’s screams – get louder.

On a final desolate stretch, chainsaw guy bursts forth.

He revs his engine. He lunges. He stops nose-to-nose with Ian. Jacket torn. Black mascara streaking. Splattered with blood.

Ian’s mouth parts. Holy fuck.

The guy breaks character, lust reflected in his blue eyes. He looks startled. Raises the weapon and retreats. “What the hell was that?”

Lip scowls.

1Perfection.

----

The hallway of the haunted house blurs around Ian. He loses his footing as he tries to walk. Continuing forward makes no sense. There’s only one place he wants to go.

He pushes aside the black curtain that lines the wall. He takes a step into the hidden crew passageway.

“Ian, stop.” Lip grabs his shoulder. “You can’t go in there. That’s for the monsters and witches and shit. We aren’t allowed back there.”

If that passage is where chainsaw guy went, then that is where Ian needs to be. Rules be damned.

Ian steps through, breathless and absolutely sure.

----

Ian’s heart races. He sneaks down a pitch-black passageway leading through private and public chambers.

An empty dressing room. A vampire’s lair. A werewolf’s cave.

In one room, he finds a fortune teller draped with cobwebs, waiting for guests to arrive.

The moldering lady waves him closer. “I see all. Your death date. Your love life. Ancient prophecies. What can I reveal?”

“What’s chainsaw guy’s name?”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion until an engine revs in the distance.

“Ah, you seek Mickey.” She smiles wistfully. “Good luck with that one.”

Ian runs again, now with a name on his lips.

----

Ian stumbles through the dark passageways until he’s dizzy.

He can’t see his own feet. He’s hungry. He’s lost track of time.

Lightning flashes from the mad scientist’s laboratory. Chainsaw guy appears, far down the hall.

“Mickey!” Ian’s heart speeds up. He feels whole. Excited. Ready.

Darkness.

Another flash. Mickey is ten feet closer, moving in strobe motion.

Darkness.

A flash.

“Who are you?” Mickey is close enough to touch. “Unless you’re wearing a lab coat and dissecting brains, you can’t be here.”

Ian doesn’t see an actor, a haunted house. He only sees his future. “I’m here for you.”

----

Ian’s pulse pounds. “I want to see you again.”

Mickey revs the chainsaw like it’s speaking for him. “Ain’t gonna happen.” God, he’s gorgeous up close. He smells like gasoline.

“One date. Coffee. One conversation.” Ian’s pushing too hard, but he aches to know more about this man.

Mickey lowers his weapon. His shoulders slump. “I can’t leave.”

“Sure, you’re working.” Ian nods. “You close at ten? Meet me at the cemetery outside when you get off. At that clover patch by the front gate.”

“You don’t get it, red.” Mickey’s chainsaw hums, echoing his voice. “I can never leave.”

----

Mickey grits his teeth, falling out of character. “Tried to escape for a hundred years before I gave up. This place is my home now.”

Ian’s balance shifts. “Why? How?”

“Winslow caught me smashing his cases of rum. His wench Madame Zelanski waved her hands, locked me up forever.”

“Can I free you?” Ian’s head spins.

Mickey scoffs. “Sure, hotshot. Knock yourself out.” He pulls back a curtain, revealing a shimmering sealed doorway. Etched above, it reads, Taurobolium Papaveraceae Amorisveri.

Surely this is part of the haunted house, right? Ian plays along.

He swears to release Mickey from these walls.

----

Ian shuffles through the halls, doubting everything about this night.

He stops at the fortune teller’s room.

Backs up.

“You.” Ian points at her sign reading Madame Zelanski. “You trapped Mickey here?”

“I needed a Wrath.” She shrugs, bored. “The werewolf, he’s my Gluttony. Mad Scientist is my Pride.”

“Mickey doesn’t belong here. Let him go.” He belongs with me.

Her face pinches bitterly. She waves her hand.

Ian’s feet grow heavy, like magnets against the floor. His phone falls and shatters. The air around him solidifies, trapping him.

Zelanski tuts, shaking her head. “Seems now I have my Lust.”

----

In a chamber of the maze, late that first night, lit by wall torches, Ian accepts his fate.

Exits? Sealed. His family? Glamored to forget him.

Ian feels no hunger or thirst. Yet the scientist offers him potion.

“It’s tradition.” The werewolf howls. “To celebrate our full cast.”

Ian doesn’t trust the foul-smelling drink.

Mickey rests a hand on his shoulder. Quiet. Supportive. “It’s brewed from screams. It’ll give you strength, so you don’t get consumed by your role.”

Ian can’t tell up from down anymore, but he chose to follow Mickey and does so again.

Ian downs the potion.

----

They talk into the early morning, with one candle burning.

Ian feels drained. “Do we sleep?”

Mickey scoffs but is patient. “Yeah, slugger, our bodies still need sleep. We ain’t ghosts, we’re just frozen.”

“Got somewhere I can crash?”

Mickey tilts his head for Ian to follow. Leads him to a stone-lined room. “It ain’t much, but you’re welcome to share.”

Ian collapses onto the feather mattress. Looks at Mickey through heavy eyelids.

He’d weathered storms before, faced the worst kinds of punishment. Ian’s a stubborn bastard. He can ride out this absurdity long enough to set them both free.

----

Ian is given the role of escaped convict. His clothes become a striped prison jumpsuit. Torn fabric. Shackles around his ankles. Bloodied fingernails.

It’s a cruel joke, mimicking an escapee when he remains trapped.

Mickey teaches him, tirelessly, every night. “You can’t touch anyone. Can’t remove your costume. Can’t borrow any phones.”

“Can we take a break? It’s too much information.” Ian sighs as the last patrons leave. “I need less about life inside. More about how to break out.”

“Sick of me already, huh?”

As if.

Mickey – and the help he provides – are the only things keeping Ian afloat.

----

Ian visits the walled-up tunnel every day, memorizing its engraved words. Contemplating their meaning. Orchestrating his escape.

Taurobolium Papaveraceae Amorisveri.

Mickey scoffs. “You speak ancient Latin, chief?” He terrifies the guests, but he’s patient with Ian.

“Check it. Someone dropped these.” Ian has a pocket-sized notebook and a pencil. “I’m writing down root words.”

Tauro:

Minotaur

Centaur

Toreador

Mickey taps the paper. “My brother was born in May. He’s a Taurus.”

“Bull.”

“No, he really was.”

Ian smiles. “I mean, the connection between these words is ‘bull.’”

Mickey’s face lights up with admiration, hope. “Shit, you really do speak Latin.”

----

Ian has a breakthrough after a month.

The days had been blurring together: Scare people. Act deranged. Moan. Party each midnight. Try to solve this damn puzzle.

Ian sits on the bed in his and Mickey’s shared room. His heart pounds. He’s deciphered the last word. He has no doubt.

“Put your stupid notebook away for once.” Mickey smirks and wipes his chainsaw, his face smeared with grease. “You gotta live a little.”

Ian flinches, jostled from his thoughts.

Amorisveri. True love.

Ian’s chest tightens. These stolen glances from Mickey make him wonder if escape just might be possible.

----

“Never tried this before.” Mickey blows smoke out his nose. “Kinda like opium.”

Ian pockets his lighter. Thank god that whole-ass rock band came through the maze tonight and dropped their stash of weed.

Mickey settles against the fake moss of the werewolf’s cave. “Never hung out in here before. It’s cozy.”

Ian leans close, snags the joint. His finger brushes Mickey’s cheek. They stare.

Mickey gulps. “Never, uh, kissed a guy before.”

Ian’s mind floods. His heart pounds. All the heated glances. The laughs. The flirting. The hope that Mickey liked him. It’s all led to this moment.

----

Ian leans in for the kiss. It’s messy. It’s uncoordinated. It’s perfect.

It’s so good that electricity tickles Ian’s toes.

Mickey hums against his lips. “You feel that?”

The corner of their room glows a bright blue. A scratchy version of Ian’s old ringtone plays.

“No fucking way.” Ian scrambles over the bed. Picks up his shattered, discarded phone. The broken screen shows an incoming call. “My brother’s girlfriend. This phone hasn’t worked for a month.”

Ian remembers the Latin inscription. It’s no coincidence his phone lit up the moment he kissed Mickey.

With shaky fingers, he answers the call.

----

“Tami?” Ian clutches the phone. “Are you there?”

“Ian…” Static. “…haven’t seen you…” Crackling hisses. “…keep trying to call…”

Between her bursts of speech, Ian hears sounds of the Gallagher house. Carl’s obnoxious music. Liam reading a storybook to Freddy. Debbie cooking. The sounds make Ian ache for home.

“Tami, listen. I’m trapped in the haunted maze. Bring Lip. Call the cops. Get me out.”

“…you’ll probably never hear this anyway, but I wanted to let you know we miss you.” Click.

Mickey’s eyes widen. “The fuck was that?”

Ian swells with excitement. “We’re breaking the spell. Kiss me again.”

----

Mickey pulls back from the kiss. “How… why do I feel shaky? How did she call you?”

“I think it’s just a voicemail, but still. Follow me.” Ian runs.

Mickey follows through the shadowy halls which have been his home for a century. They stop, out of breath, at the exit tunnel.

Mickey steps close to the engraving. “It’s glowing.”

“Only one word, see. Amorisveri. The other two are still faded.”

“How are we…” Mickey buries his face against Ian’s neck. “I’ve been trapped in the darkness for so long.”

Ian reaches out, squeezes his hand. “You aren’t alone anymore.”

----

Ian slides to the floor, stunned, exhilarated. He pulls the notebook from his pocket. “I’ve had this theory. Look.”

Mickey sits beside him and reads.

“I worked out that Taurobolium means ‘bull’s blood.’ I snuck into Zelanski’s library and researched Papaveraceae. It means ‘poppy.’”

“That’s the opium flower.”

“Yep. We just gather these objects to break the spell.”

“That must mean we already have one.” Mickey’s eyes widen with understanding. “What’s the third item?”

Ian pauses. “True love.” He tilts his head, ready to burst. “Are you ready to see how the outside world has changed in one hundred years?”

----

Ian hopes his theory is correct. That if he acquires bull’s blood and poppy, then he will be free. Mickey will be free.

They lie together in their tiny shared bed. Mickey’s mind races all night. “Where the hell do we get these things? What if I don’t like it outside? Where will I go? What will I do? Everyone I knew is dead, aren’t they? What about the other trapped people? Will they be freed, too?”

Ian can’t answer. There’s only one thing he knows for sure: the maze has had a hold on Mickey for far too long.

----

Mickey watches customers arrive, the families who are oblivious to the true dark nature of the maze. He glances at their hands, their purses. “Opium should be easy, right? Everyone carries a vial of it.”

Ian adjusts his costume. “Not these days. We’ll be more likely to find a poppyseed bun.”

“And for bull’s blood, what? Snag someone’s hamburger?”

“‘No outside food or drinks,’ genius. We’re a haunted house, not a diner.”

Mickey’s eyes shine with defiance. “I say we rob the old witch blind. Snag the ingredients from her lair.”

He turns a corner … and collides with Madame Zelanski.

----

Zelanski is not the moldering sage that Ian first met. Her features are sharp. Her clothes regal, intimidating. “You defy me at every turn. The two of you are trouble. I should have foreseen it.”

Ian is terrified but stares. Engages. Distracts her. Because behind her, Mickey slinks down the hallway. In the direction of her room, her lair, her library of potions and ingredients.

Ian needs to keep her occupied.

She snarls. “You think this universe is too easy for you? Let me show you another.” Her skin glows. Her hair floats. The air around them crackles.

Well, damn.

----

The walls around Ian bend. A magical tug pulls him to the floor. His vision stutters.

Zelanski creeps closer. "I've spoiled you for too long. Let you wander where you want, sleep where you want, befriend who you want. It ends now."

Mickey returns in a blur, behind the witch with a bottle in his hand.

Zelanski squeezes her fist, tightening the sensation in Ian's chest. "This world was too easy … I’m sending you to–"

Mickey smashes the bottle. Sweet, citrusy liquid splatters. On the floor. On Mickey. On Ian.

Poppy oil.

The vice grip on Ian's chest springs free.

----

Mickey runs with Ian to the sealed exit tunnel, catches his breath. "I can feel it. Pressure … inside … pushing her claws out of my flesh."

"We're close to freedom. But she'll find us, put a new spell on us." Ian touches the now two glowing words. "I doubt our next home will be this comfortable."

Mickey shakes his head, frustrated. "Couldn't find bull's blood. We need that final ingredient."

A scream erupts down the hall.

"Fuck." Ian tenses. "Tonight's guests are already close."

A chainsaw materializes in Mickey’s hand. Ian's clothes become torn prison garb.

They're still doomed to perform.

----

The group of guests laughs in the strobe lighting, guys in basketball jerseys.

Ian's stomach clenches. I couldn't free us. This'll be my last shift before Zelanski sends us to hell.

But the guys are tall. Really tall. And their jerseys aren't replicas. Holy shit. These are NBA players. Chicago Bulls.

Bull’s blood.

Ian steals the chainsaw from Mickey. Races toward the guests. "Sorry about this."

He swings the weapon as gently as he can. He grazes the shoulder of one man. Fresh blood seeps out.

"My fucking arm!" Screams. Confusion. Anger.

Ian wipes his hand against the man's wound.

----

Heat hits Ian in waves. It spreads from his hand, the Bull’s blood seeping into his skin.

The words around the exit tunnel explode with light. Taurobolium. Papaveraceae. Amorisveri. Burning into his vision, blinding him.

The guests comfort their friend, holding his injured arm. They glare at Ian, at the chainsaw. “What the hell is your problem? We’re gonna sue!”

The passages stretch like they’re made of taffy. Ian’s body suctions toward the tunnel, his exit, his freedom.

He claws the ground. He reaches for Mickey. He needs to drag Mickey with him.

But Ian’s amorisveri is too far away.

----

Ian falls. Grass and dirt hit his knees. Moonlight shines on his skin. Maze guests laugh in line, buying tickets.

No. No. He’s outside. It’s fall. The air smells exactly like it did the day he got trapped.

Has he gone back in time, to before it all began?

The wall of the building sizzles. Blue sparks disappear as his portal closes.

Ian stands, pounds on the solid brick. “Dammit, let me back in.”

The eternity he spent trying to escape means nothing without Mickey by his side.

Ian runs toward the main entrance.

But … the wall begins sparking again.

----

Ian watches as shoes emerge from the portal. Legs. A full body.

Mickey falls onto the ground.

“Oh, thank Christ.” Ian runs to his side.

Mickey brushes off his knees. Blinks. “I saw you swipe that guy’s blood. I followed your lead.” His breath hitches as he notices their surroundings — the cars, people, noise, lights. “Fuck, look at all this. I’m not from here.”

“Sure you are. You’re just not from now.” Ian helps him stand. “But I don’t know what day it is. Or year. If our families are still alive.”

Mickey grabs his hand. “We'll find out together.”

----

It doesn’t take long for Ian to learn the date. A woman in line tells him without hesitation.

His eyes widen. “A full year since I got trapped. That means…” Ian trails off, guilty that he can resume his life but Mickey can’t.

Mickey smiles, feigning confidence. “It had to be you or me, right? Your time or mine.”

“Unless we got thrown back to caveman days or something.”

“You in a bearskin? That I’d like to see.” Mickey smirks. “Hey. I don’t mind losing so that you can win. My family’s a bunch of fuck-ups. Who needs ‘em, anyway?”

----

So this is the twenty-first century.

Mickey sheds the quilt of emotions he’s wearing: panic, fear, shock, disbelief.

His heart finally slows. He’s left with what he can see and feel.

The modern world explodes with color. A kaleidoscope of neon lights. Clothing like crayon boxes.

“Who the hell paints cars that way? All green and purple and shit?”

Ian laughs. “Wait until you see downtown.”

“The future is hideous.”

But a yellow spotlight grazes Ian. A red tail light. The blues from a poster reflect onto Ian’s face.

Mickey sighs.

He can’t deny the truth. His future is beautiful.

----

They start with the obvious. They find Ian’s family and what’s left of Mickey’s.

They buy clothes. Eat chili dogs. Drink Guiness. Smoke the finest sativa Lip can snag.

But it’s here in the Cicero Avenue Lowe’s that Mickey freezes, eyes wide, and grips Ian’s arm.

“There’s so many.” Mickey runs his hand across the body of a Husqvarna Rancher 2-cycle gas chainsaw. “They’re gorgeous.”

Ian beams. “They didn’t make chainsaws like this in 1922?”

Mickey can barely breathe. He may have been on the losing side, yanked from his own time. He’s not convinced it was the wrong one.

----

The future suits Mickey fine. He adjusts to the freedom, the goddamn technology everywhere.

Yet something bothers him. Nags at him.

He brings Ian back to the maze one brisk October night.

“We’ve got three things going for us.” Mickey eyes the front entrance. “One, we know the layout of this place. Where people sleep, where the exit tunnel is. Two, we’ve got these jars of poppyseed and literal bull blood.”

“And the third?”

“I ain’t sick of your ass yet.”

“I love you, too, Mickey. Ready to rescue our friends?”

Mickey stiffens. “Let’s burn this fucker to the ground.”

#galladrabbles #gallavich fan fiction #100 words #writing #maze of terror #It's now complete!

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tomurasprincess · 4 years ago

Text

Kinktober Day 24: Monster (The Asylum)

Day 24: Monster Title: The Asylum Pairing: Mothman Shigaraki x Reader Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: Noncon, monster mind control stuff, oviposition, cumflation, belly bulges, breeding, forced orgasms, some slight descriptions of gore and blood, yandere Note: The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum is a real place, although parts of what I wrote is fake, mostly the part where they close down a second time in the fic. IRL, they’re still open and doing tours. Tagging @ichor-and-symbiosis and @kazooli as two of the OG Mothura writers 👀

Sequel: The Brood

Kinktober Masterlist

You’ve always loved urban exploring, going to old mental asylums and hospitals to look around and see the decay of places that used to be so bustling with people. You especially liked the places that had tragic pasts, the ones where horrific things occurred. It sounds morbid to anyone you talk to about your interests, but it was the truth. You’ve always believed in monsters and ghosts just out of sight of humanity, lurking in the dark corners of abandoned places.

That’s why you instantly planned a trip to the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum the second you heard about it. It had been abandoned years ago due to extreme abuse of patients. A historical society had moved in later, renovating the place and making a history tour of it that also did ghost tours at night.

But even they ended up abandoning the place due to the fake ghost tours apparently starting to become real ghost tours. People began to see creatures out of the corner of their eyes, something they said was much larger than a human, with wings on its back and piercing red eyes.

It was initially dismissed as overactive imaginations, people who wanted to see ghosts so badly that they were seeing things that weren’t there. Or people who just wanted to start tall tales for attention and were flat out making things up in order to scare the rest of the group.

But then the disappearances started to happen. It was almost always young women who got separated from the tour group, although a few times it was a boyfriend and girlfriend who got lost together. The tour guides scoured every inch of the asylum looking for the missing people, but they found no trace of them. At first it was dismissed as the people getting scared and running off without telling anybody.

Until one day, a regularly scheduled tour group stumbled across the bodies. Not the bodies of the missing girls, but their partners. They were viciously torn apart, with limbs scattered all over the room. Their blood covered the walls, the floor, even the ceiling of the room. The women were alive but traumatized, rocking back and forth in a corner of the room absolutely covered in blood, none of which was their own.

They told the same tales that the rest of the people did. They were captured by a monster, around 8-9 feet tall, with large moth-like wings and red eyes. The creature was surprisingly gentle to them, they said, at least until they saw that they were with someone. The creature had become enraged, tearing their partner to pieces as they watched. They knew for certain that they would be next, their eyes squeezed tight as they waited for their death.

But the creature did nothing, simply turning away and leaving the room like they were not what the creature wanted.

Although everyone agreed that something horrible had happened to the young women, none of them believed their story. They had stayed in that room for several days, covered in the blood of their loved ones, not knowing if they were ever going to make it out. Of course they were traumatized, thinking they saw monsters. But monsters aren’t believed to exist, and so everyone began to look for a human murderer that was never found.

The asylum tried to recover from the tragedy, but it was never able to. The amount of bad press they got for having lax safety standards and not taking care of their tour groups caused everybody to stay away. Finally, having no other choice in the matter, the asylum had closed.

When you heard this story, you were over the moon excited. Not just a historical landmark, but also a place with a possible real life monster sighting. Nothing was going to stop you from going there and seeing the place for yourself.

And now here you stand, in front of the building with a backpack full of supplies slung over your shoulder. You had your phone, flashlights with spare batteries, a spare change of clothes, matches and lighters, even a rope and various other tools should something happen inside of the building.

And so, with a deep excitement bubbling up in your stomach, you find your way through a hole in the fence and walk through the front door. The first thing you see is the reception desk with various odds and ends left over from the closure. There are even still brochures describing the various types of tours and listing prices.

You walk down the first corridor you see, going past various closed off rooms that look to be basic examination rooms. There is surprisingly little decay, mostly everything still looking rather clean and intact besides a thick layer of dust and cobwebs covering everything. You’re a bit discouraged but decide to continue on to see if things get more interesting.

After all, the murders occured in the basement, and you’re not anywhere close to that yet.

Soon you find yourself in the medical ward where the patients were kept, and you instantly realize one of the reasons this hospital was so nightmarish. The rooms are even smaller than jail cells, leaving barely enough space for patients to lay down in. There are so many rooms of that exact size that you wonder how the staff could accurately take care of the amount of patients there had to be. But you remember your research, remember the fact that they couldn’t.

That was why so many brutal procedures were performed such as lobotomies, in order to keep the peace at the asylum and make things easier for the doctors and nurses. You give a quick shudder and begin to move on, feeling a strange sensation that you desperately want to get away from.

The decay gets worse and worse the closer you get to the basement, rust and decay beginning to cover every surface you see. You walk past some of the surgery rooms and feel horror at the utensils and instruments you see in them. The historical society tried to keep things as accurate as possible, and as such, they had kept most of the equipment that you would see back in those days.

You’re beginning to wonder if this is a good idea, as that strange sensation continues to worsen and worsen. You realize with a start what this feeling actually is.

It feels like someone is watching your every movement. You whirl around, shining your flashlight in every direction as you try to see what’s watching you. But there’s nothing but darkness and the decaying walls of the hospital. You shake your head, laughing quietly at the fact that you’re spooked out by a few weird shadows and an odd feeling.

You’re not going to let it stop you from your goal, however, and you continue forwards until you get to the doors of the basement. The feeling here is overwhelming, simultaneously telling you to run and move forward all at the same time. The conflicting emotions leave you off balance and light headed, and you reach your hand out instinctively when you sway on your feet. You touch a section of the wall and instantly pull your hand back.

The wall is warm, not cold like it should be. A sense of unease crawls up your spine, and you decide then and there that it’s time to go. Making it to the basement is not worth this, whatever it is you’re feeling. But then you hear a soft humming and the flapping of wings, coming from deep within the basement of the hospital.

Instead of being terrified, however, you feel entranced. It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard, and it’s calling you. You open the basement door without even thinking about it, walking down the stairs in a dreamy haze. You don’t even pay attention to how heavy the rot here is, how the walls are entirely blackened by decay that spreads out like veins on a body.

You don’t pay attention when the door slams closed behind you, locking you in with whatever is calling you closer. All you can think about is getting to that beautiful sound, that lonely haunting call that seems to burrow deep into your brain. You walk as if you’re in a trance, turning corridors that you’ve never seen before but somehow know where they’re going.

Finally, you get to a door that is deep within the bowels of the basement, a bright red door that seems to beckon you inside. You push open the door with no hesitation, walking through and letting it close behind you.

And you finally come face to face with the creature. He is about 9 feet tall, towering over your small form. He’s not overly muscular, but he has a thin wiry look to him that says he is deceptively strong. His red eyes bore into you like they’re staring directly into your soul. On his back are two massive wings, spread to their full wing span and utterly gorgeous.

The creature makes a small chittering noise as he motions you towards him, and you follow like he’s a puppeteer holding your strings. He pulls you tightly into his body, burying his nose into your neck and taking a deep whiff of your skin. His hot breath on your sensitive skin pulls a shudder from you. and he tightens his grip as if he’s worried you’ll get away.

A long tongue pokes out of his mouth, licking at the pulse point that is frantically beating. “Mine,” he groans into your skin, sharp teeth grazing you. “Mate.” You’re lifted up off your feet before being laid down on the ground, hips in the air and face down on the floor. He rips your pants off easily, leaving your panties on as he lowers his head down. You feel a flash of embarrassment as he sniffs them like he sniffed your neck, groaning again as his tongue drags across the wet abric. “Fertile,” he whispers as he pulls your panties aside, “fertile mate.”

The haze parts from your mind long enough for you to feel a sharp flash of fear, and then his tongue is lapping at your folds and the fear is quickly chased away again. You dig your nails into the floor as you feel him work his tongue inside of you, using it to fuck you like a cock would. You gasp when he hits your cervix with his tongue and keeps going, wiggling against the barrier like he’s trying to break through it.

Something in his saliva causes your body to heat up and your muscles to loosen enough for him to batter his tongue harder against you and push through. Your scream echoes through the walls of the room, but not of pain. Instead, a fierce pleasure overtakes you as your cervix gives way to the creature’s tongue, allowing him to enter into your womb.

The feeling of this tongue wiggling around in your empty womb causes you to tip over the edge and cum around the creature’s tongue as he eagerly laps at your juices. He withdraws his tongue, causing you to let out a whine of disappointment, only to be surprised when you feel something prodding at your entrance. It doesn’t feel like a human cock at all, with ridges and bumps along the length and much thicker than a human cock would be.

You have a single moment to wonder how it will fit inside of you before it’s pushing in, stretching out your tight outer ring of muscles and causing a sharp burning in your lower stomach. You whine and try to pull away, only for the creature to let out a snarl as claws dig into your hips, causing your blood to drip down onto the pavement.

Even though there is no pain, only more pleasure, you learn your lesson and don’t try to move away as the thick cock slides even further into you. It’s so much thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before, and you’re shaking like a leaf when he finally bottoms out inside. You think he’ll start thrusting like a human male would, except that he doesn’t.

He keeps pushing, humping into you with sharp movements designed to force your cervix open even further. You squeal as the cock makes it past the barrier, burying deep inside of your womb. You glance down and let out a choked sob at the bulge in your stomach where the tip of the creature’s cock is.

“Pretty - pretty mate,” the creature says hesitantly, rolling his hips experimentally into you and drawing a groan from your throat. “Tomura,” he adds, and it takes you a second to realize that’s the creature’s name.

“Tomura,” you murmur, and the creature chitters happily at the sound of your voice saying the name. You try to think of something else to ask, maybe even to beg to be released as the haze seems to clear a bit, but Tomura begins to hum again, and you instantly smile in bliss as all of your concern fades away.

You feel something else pushing into your entrance, and it takes a long moment to realize what it is as you feel it slip up your stretched out tunnel.

Eggs. The creature is filling you with eggs. Instead of being horrified, however, you moan as they continue to move inside of you. There are multiple eggs at once, small and gooey, and they coat your insides with wetness as they make their way to your still stretched out cervix.

You feel them pass through the opening to plop down into your womb, and you cry out and cum hard, pussy wildly fluttering around Tomura’s cock. He lets out a deep grunt of pleasure as he rocks his hips against you, and you feel more eggs pushing into you. This time, a few of them get stuck against a spongy spot inside of you, and you scream out your orgasm, legs shaking and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Fuck, oh god, shit, Tomura - “ you babble mindlessly as more eggs push into you, “it feels so good, why does it - “

Before those eggs can push fully in, there are already more entering you, and you feel so incredibly full. They drop down into your no longer empty womb, wringing another orgasm from your tired body. The skin of your stomach is stretching, making you look bloated, and Tomura still isn’t done.

You lose track of time completely, only aware of your body twitching and convulsing as more and more eggs push up into you, settling into your womb with the rest of them. Your stomach already looks 9 months pregnant, and you can barely hold yourself up.

Tomura sees this, and he gently picks you up and lays you down on your back. “Pretty mate,” he leans and kisses your forehead, “look so good with my children. Our children.”

“Oh god, no more, please no more, I’m so full Tomura,” you whimper as more eggs push into you. “Please, so full - “

Tomura hums softly at you, and you smile with bliss as the final eggs plop down into your womb. His movements become more savage, thrusting hard into you as he grunts and groans. The force of his thrusts has you sliding up, breasts bouncing and your belly jiggling. The feeling of the eggs moving around inside of you has you howling out your orgasm, blackness dotting the edge of your vision as you almost lose consciousness.

Finally, Tomura is finished, and his cock begins to twitch inside of you as hot ropes of cum fill you up, shooting directly into your womb where the eggs reside. You sob as you watch your stomach bulge out even more as the creature’s cum fertilizes the eggs inside. You can no longer see the dents and valleys of the eggs along your stomach, and you reach down to gently run your hand over your bloated stomach.

You can feel the eggs through the barrier of skin, and it causes your eyes to roll back at the pleasure. Tomura gives a soft, happy chirp as he places his hand over yours on your belly, rubbing it gently. He pulls out slowly, causing a mixture of your cum and his to gush out of your now gaping pussy.

He reaches down to pick you up as he walks towards a door in the back of the room that you hadn’t noticed before. You’re shocked by what you see when you walk through. It’s an utterly untouched room, still looking brand new and with none of the decay that covers the rest of the basement. There is no bed, but there is a pile of clean blankets and pillows in the corner, piled up high and in a circle.

A nest, you realize. It’s a nest. For you. He tucks you in gently, chirping again as his clawed hand runs over your pregnant belly. “Mate,” he says happily, “my pretty little mate.” He stands up and walks towards the door, turning to you one last time as his gaze narrows and darkens just a bit.

“No running. Don’t want to have to tie mate down.” He continues to gaze at you, as if waiting for something.

“I won’t run,” you say quietly, and the dark look on his face is gone instantly as he beams at you.

“Good mate, good.” And with that, he’s gone.

With his absence, some of the haze lifts and you’re able to realize the horror of the situation you’re in. Nobody knows where you are, and you’re trapped. Even if you wanted to run, you don’t think you could with how large your belly is. No escape and no help coming for you, and the creature already seems so possessive of you that he’s not going to let you easily escape.

If only you had listened to your instincts earlier, if only you hadn’t been so fascinated with the grotesque, if only you had simply chosen to stay home.

You’ve always believed in monsters. You just never thought you would find one.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

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