#this creeped me out so much for some reason

[lis-likes-fics]

Strung Up

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 32.8k words Warnings: NSFW, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (violence), graphic descriptions of violence, graphic descriptions of death, murder, blood, gore, anxiety, panic attack, implications of stalking, frequent swearing, drug use, alcohol use, manipulation, degradation (not always in the sexy way), dubious consent, light praise kink, fingering, groping, oral sex, multiple orgasms, spanking, titty fucking, masturbation, vaguely masochistic tendencies… A/N: IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Not all of the warnings are listed above, but the full list of warnings is provided here. The only reason they're not all here is to avoid spoilers throughout the story, but none of the warnings unlisted here should be trigger warnings. If you're still unsure, please feel free to check the list. But if you want to go into this blind, go right ahead! A/N II: Okay so...I did finish the last two scenes at 3 o'clock in the morning last night, but hey! We finished! This is the last upload for my Kinktober 2024 event. I'm glad I was able to finish just in time, and I hope you all enjoy this just as much as I did (even though I almost gave up five different times but that's not important.) Thank you so much and Happy Halloween! A/N III: The story is too long so Tumblr won't let me post this. Because of this, I will ahve to split it into two parts (which is annoying bc it will really damage notes and stuff and it's harder to manage >:( )

"Sonova bitch!”

You resist the urge to kick your tire. It's midnight, you're practically in the middle of the woods, and you're alone. Your car broke down along the way home, and now you're worried you'll have to walk for God-only-knows how long just to get help.

You look around, trying to figure out what to do without a car or any telephone nearby. You curse under your breath, bracing your hands on the side of the car as you lean against it.

You hear tires in the distance, and perk your head up at the chance of some luck coming your way.

But the only thing coming your way is a large, almost creaky van. Upon seeing you, it begins to slow down to a creeping pace, and you wonder if you should just make a break for it.

Just your luck, too. You're stuff on the side of the road in the middle of the night with no way to communicate with a single living soul, and now there's a creepy van inching toward you like you're about to meet your end.

Your back is stiff, and your nerves are frayed. “Just a van driving toward you,”you mutter to yourself. “Nothing scary about that at all.”

As the blinding lights shine across you, you raise a hand and squint your eyes against the strain. It pulls into the side of the road, parking behind you as the lights continue to blare.

“Hey,” a guy says as he swings the door open and steps out. You give a wary smile at first, waving timidly back at him. “Something wrong?”

It's hard to see him. All you see is the outline of his figure against the lights. He's taller than you, with big bushy hair and wide shoulders. You try not to shrink away from this dark, shadowy thing of a man.

You bump the toe of your shoe against the tire, crossing your arms as your hand pulls nervously at the collar of your work shirt. “Stupid engine died on me.”

He gestures to the car, his voice is actually kind of nice, and a bit familiar… “A beauty like this?” He pats the back of it, wild hair shifting as he looks down at it. “That's surprising.”

You shrug. “Yeah, everyone thinks it's such a great car. It's actually a piece of shit.” You chuckle lightly, and he joins you. “Do you think you could help?”

He steps to the side, and some light finally shines on one side of his face. You start to piece together his features, squinting your eyes and realizing why his voice is so familiar. You're put at some ease now that you recognize him. Your shoulders fall, and the features of your face calm.

“Wait, you're that Eddie guy. At my school?”

He looks up at you, a smile tugging at his lips as he nods. “That's me. The Eddie guy.” He holds out his ringed-up hand. “Eddie Munson.”

You take it, the cold of his rings a slight surprise against the warmth of your palm. “I'm–”

“I'm well aware, sweetheart.”

You purse your lips, chuckling lightly at the way he says it. It's not mean in any way, but there's an undertone that you find slightly unsettling.

He squints the corners of his dark eyes, making a cringing face as he nods slowly. “Sorry, that sounds bad. Uhh–”

“No, all good,” you say quickly. You shuffle on your feet, chuckling lightly to try and ease the tension between you. “You're not gonna, like, kill me and stuff my corpse in the back of your van, right?”

He smiles, laughing as he shakes his head. “No, all good.” He raises his fingers in the air, one hand over his heart as he bows a little. “Scout's honor.”

You nod. “Cool.” You glance back at your car and pat the hood. “You think you could help me out, Eddie Munson? Maybe a hot wire?”

He cringes slightly, running a hand through his messy hair. His muscle tee rides up a little from the movement, revealing a slip of his tummy shone gently in his headlights. “Unfortunately, my old girl can't handle a hot wire. I love her, but she's a bit of a piece of shit, too.”

You hum, your shoulders falling slightly. “Oh, that sucks.”

“But…” He steps over to your open door, leaning inside to pop the hood before he walks past you to look at the engine. “I'll tell you what, I can tow it and get it fixed for you.” He seems pleased with this answer. He smiles like a dork. “I help out at an auto shop, they know me. And,” he rubs his hand over the side of the car, admiring the make, “I think they'd be thrilled to work on a nice thing like this.”

Sparks of hope shoot like fireworks in your eyes when you look at him. “”Really?” Then you backpedal as you second guess yourself. “I wouldn’t wanna bother.”

“Psh, no bother, at all.” He says it so casually, like the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. The amount of work, money, time—it doesn’t seem to mean anything to him. “I’ll hook her up and take you home.”

You clasp your hands together, a wide smile falling on your face. “Thank you so much.” You start walking toward his van with him, watching as he opens your door for you like a true gentleman. “I’m so glad you’re not some sort of creep.”

As you sit down, his smile widens with his joke. “You never know.” He winks at you, and it makes you laugh. If he were some middle-aged man, you’d truly be worried. But he’s really just some really nice (and kind of hot) weirdo who goes to your school. He’s not threatening, at all.

Once Eddie’s got your car properly fastened to the back of his van, he’s driving down the lightened road with the radio gently underscoring the otherwise silent air. He taps the wheel gently, glancing over at you every now and then when you’re looking out of the window at your side.

“So,” he mutters, “why are you out here so late?”

You chuckle lightly, scratching your neck absent-mindedly. “Leaving work.” You purse your lips. “My hours are kinda ridiculous.”

His brows raise. “Damn. Sounds like you need a new job.”

You shrug a shoulder lazily. “Eh. Pays well, good boss, one shitty coworker.” You look at him and smile. “It’s nothing.”

“At least it’s not a shitty boss.”

You nod eagerly, laughing lightly in agreement. “Got that right. I got lucky.”

His eyes keep switching between you and the road. He leans his elbow on his arm rest, still steering with one hand on the wheel. “So where do you work?” he wonders curiously.

“Retail.” There’s a crack on the passenger’s side mirror, and you briefly wonder how it got there. “This semi-expensive place, like twenty minutes from my house.”

He tilts his head to the side with a hum, as if the distance is another reason to quit. “Good pay.”

Another involuntary chuckle rises from your chest. “Good pay,” you echo. “What about you?” You turn to him, your head tilted. Then your eyes close and you purse your lips, raising a hand to brush down your face. “You totally said you help out at an auto shop, didn’t you?”

He laughs heartily. “I did, but I actually work at Radio Shack.” You nod like working at Radio Shack is this super interesting thing. “Pays kinda meh, shitty boss, couple good coworkers but the others kinda hate me.”

You lean back against the seat, sighing like it's happening to you. “That sucks. I'm sorry.”

Eddie shrugs. “S’fine, I'm used to it.” He grins a little. “That's what happens when you listen to this.”

He turns the station, turning it up a little as the rambunctious sounds of metal music almost blast through the speakers.

You've never been a fan of metal, but the popular rhetoric of it being music from the devil was annoying. Music is music.

“And when you play RPGs.” He turns the music back down.

You smirk, raising a brow at him. “So you're a nerd?”

An almost startled laugh rises from his throat, it almost sounds like a snort. “Maybe a little,” he says. His smile is so big, you wonder if his cheeks hurt. Then you wonder if he's this nice to everyone.

“That’s okay. I like a good nerd.”

He glances over his shoulder teasingly. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod, chuckling to yourself with a gentle giddy. “Mhm.”

The rest of the ride is as calm and as pleasant. Eddie's good company, and you find yourself genuinely hoping that you continue to be friends after this.

Soon enough, he's pulling into your posh neighborhood. The street lamps have been on for a long time, illuminating your relatively expensive house and the large tree in front of it in a gentle golden light. The porch lights are on, so your parents must be (obviously) asleep.

Eddie jogs across the front of his van to open the door for you. “Tada!” he exclaims quietly as he gestures dramatically toward your home. As you step out, still looking at your house with a furrowed brow, your skin prickles and the back of your neck goes cold as you begin to realize something.

“I…never gave you my address.”

You turn to look at Eddie, who's smiling really widely. His dark fringe kisses his lashes, his lips are pulled taut by the stretch of his smile, which is lingering strangely on his face. A tiny huff of breath passes from his mouth.

There's a strange silence as he stares at you, looking like someone's pressed pause on him. It's just short enough that it's easy to miss.

“I've been to one of your parties before.”

Oh.

“You have?” You think quickly, trying to remember seeing his face and falling short. “I've never seen you at one.”

“Yeah…” he says. “Not really my crowd.” Eddie closes your door after you've grabbed your things. “A friend invited me, but I left quick.” He shrugs a shoulder, “Besides, atmosphere wasn't super welcoming.”

Right. He's a social outcast.

“Oh,” you mumble. It doesn't sit well with you. You wished you would have noticed him. At least then you could have tried to make it better for him. He's a really sweet guy…

“Who’s your friend? I think I heard Steve Harrington mention you before,” you wonder. Steve is a friend of yours, and he’s been to nearly all of your parties.

“Yeah, he invited me.” He shrugs. “But I went with Jonathan Byers.” You know the name, another social outcast. He and his brother are very kindly looked upon, especially after the incident where his little brother was lost in the woods. That’s the only time you ever spoke to him, to offer your sympathies. If you’re thinking correctly, he’s a pothead now.

You give him a smile. “Well, I'd like to formally invite you to my next one—whenever that is, then I can properly welcome you and your friend.”

He laughs lightly, doing a grand flourish with his hand as he bows to you. “Well, thank you very much.”

You gesture toward the back of his van. “And my car?”

He nods dutifully. “I'll get that fixed up for you in no time.” Then he thinks for a moment. “Well, a little bit of time, but not too long.”

“Oh.” You nod, smiling still. You glance off down the street like you're looking for something. “I’ll just have to figure out a ride to school then… My boyfriend kind of lives out of the way and both my parents work.”

You miss the way his shoulders sink, his smile easing just a bit. He brings a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Well…” he speaks slowly, slower than he means to. “I can come pick you up.”

You clasp your hand again in a slightly pleading manner, but there's so much kindness in your eyes. “You're already helping out so much.”

A small sense of pride swells in his chest. “It's not a problem, really. I'm happy to.”

You set a hand on his shoulder, and you feel it tense a little through the thickness of his leather jacket. “I'd really appreciate it.” It's sincere, and you hope he knows. “Thank you.”

He puts his hand over yours. “No problem.” Then he clears his throat and lets go of your hand so you can have it back.

You start walking backwards. “Goodnight, Eddie.”

He raises an open palm, doesn't wave it or anything. “Night…”

You turn around and head inside. He watches you put the key in your door and walk inside.

Eddie stands there still, sighing gently as he wonders what he's going to do with himself. You're just so sweet and so pretty. You're perfect.

You're everything he was hoping for.

~

You've been trying to speak to him for the past ten minutes.

The lunch table isn't as full today. A couple buddies from the team are gone, their girlfriends included—which also means Brynn isn't here to resort to either.

You sigh, rolling your eyes as Jake's lips suck on your neck still. He hasn't moved from this spot unless it's to go to the other side of your neck in ten minutes. His hands are all over your waist, and when he nips at you, you huff.

“Hey, can you chill?”

He hums, not letting up as he continues to suck on you like a goddamn vampire. “What's wrong, baby?” he mumbles against your neck.

You push him off of you so that he'll look at your face. His lips are a little swollen from the attention, and his eyes are hooded like you've just been going down on him or something.

“I'm trying to talk to you, and you’re trying to fuck me in the middle of the cafeteria.

“I'm sorry,” he says, kissing your lips gently. He sighs lightly and smiles. “What were you saying?”

So he wasn't paying attention? You thought as much.

You turn to him. “I was saying that I might get fired.”

He furrows his brows. “Why?”

You brush a hand down your face to calm yourself before you yell at him for being so inattentive. You lick your lips, centering yourself with a sigh as you pull a sarcastic grin over your face.

“Because Cassidy found us making out in the storage closet during my lunch break—which you suggested after I said it was a bad idea.” There's a small grin on his face, and you have a feeling he isn't listening again.

He shrugs, “Cassidy’s a bitch who's been trying to get you fired for months. She's not doing it now.”

Your stress is getting to you now. You reach out to grab his face in the hopes that it'll make him pay a little more attention. “Except this time, she's got me for indecency in the workplace. Which could be filed under sexual harassment. That can get me fired.”

He furrows his brows a little in confusion. He grabs your wrists and pulls them off his face, down to his lap. “I think you're being ridiculous,” he shrugs a shoulder like what he's said isn't a ridiculous statement. “Aren't you training to be like…a crew lead or something?”

His hands fall to your waist, and you ignore him as he leans in again to keep sucking on your neck. He tilts your head up, holding your chin still as he has at it.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “Which is why I'm stressed out. She's going to tell my boss, and she's going to fire me.”

He pulls away from your neck. You watch his face twist in more confusion. He stares at you for a second, then glances away, and then looks back at you. “Why would you get fired?”

You stare at him with an astonished glare in your eyes. “You don't…” you huff unbelievingly and swat his hands away from you, “...fucking listen.”

You stand up and start gathering your things, wiping absent-mindedly at your neck as you throw your bag over your shoulder. He watches you, ever-confused as you storm away from him. “Where are you going?”

When you plop down next to Eddie, he seems unsurprised. He looks over at you and smiles. The rest of his table isn't fazed by your entrance—you come over a lot and you're nice, so they don't care.

“Hey! How's it goin’?” Eddie's happy to see you, and it's already making you feel better. He notices the way your face is screwed up, and he's come to know the look well by now. His face falls a little, concern lining his forehead as it does. “What's wrong?”

His warm hand comes to rest at your face, rubbing lightly between your shoulder blades. It's a soothing thing that actually helps to calm you down a bit. “Jake's pissing me off.”

“How?” He sounds almost as exasperated as you.

You sigh gently, getting ready to recount the story for a listening ear. “A couple days ago, I was on my lunch break at work and he convinced me to…” it's a little awkward telling Eddie about your semi-sexual habits, but you know he won't judge you, “...to make out with him in the storage closet, and my goddamn coworker saw us and is going to tattle.” You drop your face into your hands. “I could get fired for this.”

Eddie thinks for a moment. “This is…Cassidy, right? Cassidy Franklin?”

“Yeah.” You sit up again, probably looking as hopeless as you feel.

He brings his foot up to prop against his chair, tilting his head to one side to let his hair fall off his shoulder. “Isn't she that same girl who started the rumor about Betty Carter and Richard Vance making porn tapes for money?” He raises a brow, “And that one about Steve being in a relationship with Jonathan?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

“Huh?” Jonathan asks, looking up from his food at the mention of his name. Eddie waves him off, rolling his eyes before he looks back over to you. He smiles, opening his hands. “She's a rumormonger. No one's gonna believe her. Especially not your manager. Your manager loves you and everyone hates Cassidy Franklin.”

You think about that, and it's making you feel better. You nod again. “You might be right.”

He wraps a hand around his knee, smiling to himself like he's so pleased to hear that he's right. “Besides, it'll probably end up coming back to her anyway.” He tilts his head, leaning in fondly as he flutters his lashes at you. ”People like that don't always get away with being assholes.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, nodding. “Okay. You're right, yeah. She's a bitch.”

“Who’s a bitch?” Robin’s head pops up. She looks between the two of you, curiosity all over her face.

You shrug. “My coworker.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes and nodding. “Yeah, my coworker’s a bitch, too.”

You chuckle lightly, glancing at Eddie. “Don’t you work with Steve?” You’ve checked out movies at Family Video from them before. They seemed to mostly be getting along.

“Yeah, why?” She smirks slyly, returning to her conversation with Argyle. You don’t know what they’re talking about, but you’re not sure it’s going to make a lot of sense with the way his eyes look right now.

Eddie’s smiling when you look back at him. “Anyway, don't sweat it. Everything's gonna be fine…’kay?” He holds out his pinky, squeezing with a funny kind of harshness when you wrap yours around it.

You nod. “Okay.” You sigh, and this time it actually feels like you're letting go of the stress. Eddie always knows how to make you feel better. “Thanks. My boyfriend's an idiot, and it feels like you're the only person who listens to me sometimes.”

He furrows his brow curiously, turning toward his bag of pretzels sitting almost forgotten on the table. He pulls a couple from the bag, picking them individually from his palm. “What about your friend? What's her name—Brooklyn?”

“Brittany.” Your smile sours. “And, yeah, Brynn spends a lot more time with her boyfriend now than she does with me, so I might have to remind her that I exist first.”

He scoffs, shaking his hand as he looks down at his pretzels. “Shitty friend,” he mumbles under his breath. He seems genuinely and deeply upset. His brow furrows maybe a little more than it should.

You look over his expression, briefly wondering why he cares so much. “Just a bit,” you mutter absent-mindedly. You look at the time. Lunch is almost over. “Anyway, thanks, Eddie.”

He seems to snap out of it then, a large grin returning to his face. “No problem.”

You set a hand on his arm, smiling hopefully. “Hey, are you free tonight?” Something glints in his eyes. “Jake's hanging out with his boys and, like I said, Brynn's with her boy. I wanted to watch that new movie.”

It's a horror movie, Annihilator. You know Eddie likes horror movies, and you don't want to watch it alone. Or, rather, you'd prefer to watch it with him.

Eddie does this weird thing sometimes where he pauses. It's like his brain suddenly freezes and he just stops moving. He stares at you. His smile intact and his face just as Eddie-ish as usual, but just a little…off.

It only ever lasts a moment though.

“Raincheck?” he asks regrettably. “I'm hanging with my uncle tonight. We've been planning it for a while now.”

“Oh, sure,” you chirp. You know how much his uncle means to him. They don't usually get time together since he always works so late. “No problem. Tomorrow night?”

He smiles that proud grin again. He does it a lot. You think it's sweet.

“Absolutely.”

“See you then.” You steal a pretzel as you move to stand.

He waves you off with wiggling fingers and a cheeky grin. “See you.” He winks on your way out.

~

Dragging yourself out of the bed the next morning was hard. You don’t know why. You just woke up and felt like maybe tonight was the type of day not to go to school.

And, technically, you could if you wanted to. Both your parents are gone on a business trip—they left before you even woke up that morning. They won’t be back for at least a week. You could ditch and the worst that would happen is a phone call that you could delete if it was really necessary enough to do so in the first place.

But anyway, you don’t. You drag yourself out of bed, get ready for school, and head downstairs for breakfast. You're stirring sugar into your tea when you turn on the TV, switching through the channels to find the cartoons.

Something catches your eyes when a news channel flashes on the screen. You flip back to it quickly, and you stop mid-stir at what you find.

“–about a gruesome murder is tearing through Hawkins like a wildfire.” You drop the spoon in your mug, turning the volume up loud. “The life of a student at Hawkins High School, known as the basketball captain Jason Carver, was taken last night by a suspect police have yet to identify. Hawkins PD is still–”

You rush to the phone, dialing Brynn’s number faster than you ever have before. It rings only a couple times before the dial tone ends. You give her no time to speak.

“Are you watching the news right now?”

“Yeah. Jason fucking Carver? Who the fuck would do this?” She sounds distraught, as distraught as you feel.

You swallow thickly, pacing as much as you can with the short cord keeping you tethered to the phone. You start to worry. What if this isn’t a one time thing? What if people are actually in danger—your boyfriend, your friends. “Don’t ask me.” You start to feel sick.

“This is insane.” She sighs heavily through the line.

“You’re telling me.”

“How’s your car?” she asks, your words running a mile a minute. “Do I need to take you to school?”

It takes you a moment to respond. Your eyes had gotten stuck to the screen. There are police lights and caution tape and people everywhere. It feels so unreal. “Uh—It’s fine.” You clear your throat, wiping a hand over your face. “Especially after Eddie worked on it.”

You can almost hear the scowl in her voice. “You still hang out with him?”

Here we go. “You don’t hang out with me.”

“He’s probably the one who killed Jason.”

Her comment is a slap in the face. You can’t describe the anger and disgust that rises in your throat at what she’d just said. It’s corrosive, and you wish you could show her how upset it actually makes you, but you can’t. So instead, you say, “Why the fuck would you say that?”

Your tone makes her back off. Not by a lot, but enough for her to second guess. “He’s like…a satanist or something.”

“Or something.” You shake your head. “He’s just a nerd, and he’s kind.” You mean it in a nice way. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

She scoffs. “Whatever.” She takes a moment, calms down, and then says with more sincerity than annoyance. “Don’t get fucking killed.”

“You, too.”

“I’ll see you in class.”

“Bye.” You hang up. You stare at the screen again, staring for a while as you try to process this. You knew Jason. He was your friend—or, he was relatively your friend. You were dating one of the members on his team, so you’ve known him for a while. Now that he’s gone… It’s just such a bizarre concept to digest.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. You dial Jake’s house phone, waiting and waiting for it to pick up, only for it to flatline. With a huff, you try again. When it still doesn’t go through, you start to go for a third time when you catch the time. You’re gonna be late. You’ll see him there anyway.

You try to ignore the gnawing feeling that you might not.

~

You lean against your locker next to Eddie, holding onto your bag as your hands worry away at the strap. “I just can’t believe this happened.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy,” Eddie says. He shrugs a shoulder, “I mean, this place has been kinda cursed for a while but something like this?”

You shake your head, imagining the scenes you’ve been told by the amount of people you’ve walked past or talked to since you left the house. “It was so brutal. They said he was gutted and then hung from a fucking tree.” Your gut twists with the image. “I keep looking over my shoulder like this killer’s gonna be there.”

Eddie's hand comes to cup your elbow. He rubs it soothingly with a reassuring glint in his eyes. “Hey, don’t worry about that kinda stuff. Everything’s gonna be fine, okay?” His thumb strokes the meat of your arm. He offers you a smile.

You nod. “I hope so.” You glance behind Eddie, catching sight of Chrissy. It’s a wonder she even showed up today. She’s walking through the halls with her eyes down at the floor, moving so sluggishly that you wonder briefly if she’s really just some zombie roaming the halls. You speak quietly. “I can’t imagine how Chrissy must be feeling. She’s such a sweet person, she doesn’t deserve this kinda thing.”

Eddie’s eyes linger on her as she continues walking down the hall. He swallows thickly. “Yeah…”

His brows suddenly furrow. A crease wedges itself between them as he sees something, and he lets out a sigh as he glances away, straightening his posture as he goes. His thumb rubs your elbow one more time before letting you go. “Hey, I’ll see you later, okay?” You nod. “Stay safe.” He says it with an intensity that honestly warms your heart.

“You, too.” He gives you a quick smile and then leaves. You turn around to watch him go just as you see Jake walking toward you. That makes sense. The two eye each other as they pass, and Jake looks at you like he’s annoyed by something.

The sight of him had initially brought you some relief. You were worried that something happened to him when he didn’t answer the phone this morning. The more you look at him though, the more that feeling sours and becomes something more exasperated than anything else.

You turn around with a sigh, leaning against the locker again on your other elbow. He comes up to you, a partial scowl set upon his face. “Was that Eddie Munson?”

You hate the way he says his name. It pisses you off every time you hear it. “Yeah.”

“Why are you hanging out with him?” He looks genuinely pissed out. You roll your eyes, ready to leave this conversation because it’s such a petty thing to be arguing about right now. Someone just fucking died—one of Jake’s closest friends just fucking died—and he’s upset that you’re hanging out with some guy who plays DND? You were worried he was dead, and this is how he greets you.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that question?” You seethe the question, trying not to bring any attention to yourself as you lean in to talk to him, your own scowl set to combat his own. He huffs and shakes his head, but decides it’s probably just best to drop it.

“You didn’t call me this morning.” Your quiet anger is biting at your fingertips. You try to remind him of the situation because it doesn’t seem to be registering for him. “A student at Hawkins High was killed, and you didn’t call me this morning.”

Jake sighs, running a hand down his face as he thinks about it. You finally start to see the grief threatening to peek through as he looks away from you. “I was on the team with Jason. My parents were bitching about being safe.” His voice is quieter now, not as firm.

You start to feel bad now. You’ve been bitching about him lately about his bad behavior. You’re doing it right now, when what he really needs is your support. You sigh, looking down at your feet as you offer a truce in the way of cradling his arm in your palm. He looks at you, his eyes softening with your own. You just look at him for a moment and take a breath.

“I just don’t understand.” Your voice would be a whisper if there weren’t so many people crowding the halls. You have no doubt that every single one of them is talking about Jason Carver, former captain of the basketball team. “It’s all so surreal. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life.”

He lifts his hand to your cheek, offering his comfort. “Hey,” he says gently, “everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll make sure you’re good. You can stay at my place until this all clears up.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re even with him. But then he does stuff like this, and you start to feel a little better about the struggle. “We can also have Brynn and Andrew over to make it fun. How does that sound?”

Better than you thought it would. You haven’t been around them in a while. You feel like maybe you shouldn’t delay that any longer.

“Yeah.” You nod, hyping yourself up a bit as you offer a little smile. “Yeah, that’ll be nice. Thanks.”

His smile widens a bit. He leans in. “Anything for my girl.” He kisses you. It’s a gentle kiss, and it makes you feel better because it feels like he means it. His thumb strokes your cheek, and you can’t help but to smile against his lips.

~

You take a nap as soon as you get home. The whole day has been so exhausting, weighed down by all the grief and confusion. There’s a team meeting after school, so you have to wait for that to finish before Jake comes to get you.

When you wake up, it’s almost eight o’clock. It’s weird. The meeting should’ve been over by now.

It’s too quiet. The silence is making your skin crawl, and you reach for the remote in a desperate need to fix it. When it’s on, you immediately regret making that so.

“A second murder shakes the grounds of Hawkins as another student by the name of Cassidy Franklin is killed only an hour ago at–”

Your shock is interrupted by a tiny clattering sound. You nearly jump out of your skin as your gaze is immediately drawn upstairs. You feel yourself begin to shake, and you don’t think you can move after you’ve turned off the TV just as quickly as you turned it on.

Everything is so still now. Even the air refuses to move as you wait for anything—another sound, more silence. Anything.

You will yourself to move as you go to the kitchen, pulling the biggest knife from its sheath and ignoring the way it trembles with your fear. The tension is the air so palpable, you genuinely believe you could cut it with the knife you have clenched in your tight fists.

You feel dumb walking upstairs, toward the noise you just heard. You feel like you might die if you go any further, but you also feel like if the killer is actually in your house, then you’ll probably die if you stay downstairs, too.

You turn every knob like it’s searing hot. Every time a door opens, you feel like your heart has jumped out of your throat and then forced its way back down once you’ve confirmed there’s no one there (or rather, once you don’t see anyone because you refuse to investigate any further).

When you reach your bedroom, you think you might die. Maybe not from the killer, but from the heart attack you feel creeping up your chest.

On your bed is a single letter and a strange doll thing. You don’t feel like your heart is beating when you walk into the room. You almost slip multiple times over your own feet just trying to get to your bed. When you’re standing there, you’re frightened by something moving beside you, and you genuinely do jump this time.

Your window is open. The curtains swayed gently with a light gust of wind coming through.

Yes. You think you might die.

You swallow thickly, trying to keep your tears choked down as you pick up the doll. It looks handmade. The arms are thin and pillowy, so are the legs. Neither of them have hands or feet, and it has a stitch mouth and buttons for eyes. In a weird, abstract way, you think it sort of looks like you. The skin tone is the same and the buttons match your eye color, at least.

It falls from your hands more than you set it down. They’re shaking so badly, you don’t think you’d have been capable of putting it down yourself.

When you look at the letter, the paper also looks like it’s been folded and glued by hand. Your name is written across the front in handwriting you’ve never seen before. You force yourself to open it to see what’s inside.

When you pull out the note, you cover your mouth as you throw it back down, stumbling away. Tears spring to your eyes, despite your best effort to keep them away. There’s a smudge of blood on the paper. It doesn’t look old.

You squeeze your eyes shut, holding your breath like it’ll wake you up from some terrible dream. But when you open your eyes again and find yourself in the same room, you try not to choke on your tears.

As your entire body trembles, you find your way back to the bed. You pick up the note and do your best to keep your hands still (miserably) so you can read it.

I’ll pull all the loose strings for you, my little puppet. And once they’re all gone, we will be together.

A startled cry rips its way from your throat. You collapse to the floor as your chest heaves uncontrollably. This is too much stress. You can’t take all of this.

You don’t know how long you spend on the floor like this—sobbing and losing a lot of water—but once you’ve wracked up the strength, you crumple the letter into a ball and grab the doll by its torso, squeezing with all the fear and anger in your chest. You open your closet door, throwing them both at the wall with all your strength and forcing the door shut.

You calm your breath enough to stop your tears and wipe at your face, rushing down the stairs with the bag you’d already packed. You’re out of the door in barely any time, getting in the car as quickly as possible and you tear a path straight to Jake’s house.

Once you’re there, you don’t see his father’s car, so you assume he’s working overtime at the department to catch this killer. The way your fists pound on the front door is insistent. You almost sock Jake right in the face as soon as it’s open.

“Fuck,” he says quickly, his words rushing from his mouth. “I’m so sorry, babe. I lost track of time and–”

You don’t listen to him. You throw your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. He smells vaguely of your perfume. You try not to cry again. It’s not too hard, seeing as you already cried a ton of tears earlier onto your bedroom floor.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” You sound pathetic, but you don’t care enough to try to fix it.

“Yeah. Come on.” He opens the door wider, pulling his arm tightly around you as he tucks the both of you into the house. He closes the door behind you, still holding onto you as you pull him tight. He eases your face back into his chest. “What’s got you so freaked out?”

You don’t know what to tell him. You tell him the truth, he might believe you, he might not. If he does, he might decide to go on a killing spree to deal with whoever he thinks could have done it (you have a suspicious feeling that Eddie will be at the top of the list, simply because he doesn’t like him). There are just too many variables, and you’re too tired and too scared to deal with any of them.

“I…” you sigh shakily, “I’m just surprised by…Cassidy’s death.” Cassidy’s fucking dead. You almost forgot about that with all the insanity swarming through your head.

As his hand strokes down the back of your head, you feel his chest rumble against your cheek as he speaks. “You worked with her, didn’t you?” He sounds genuinely curious. He really wasn’t listening…

“Yeah.”

He shakes his head. “That’s crazy.” He sets his chin on top of your head and keeps rubbing your back.

“Jake.” You pull away from him just enough to look at his face. His hands cradle your elbows as your own clutch desperately at his sides. You need to know. “Do you love me?”

He stares at you and nods, bringing a hand to your cheek. His thumb strokes it, just like before. His hand is hot. “Yeah.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, searching his eyes for something to hold onto it. “Would you…” You try to steady your breath, swallowing thickly. “Would you let anything bad happen to me?”

You don’t expect him to say yes, but you need to hear it all the same. “‘Course not,” he says. “You’re my girl.”

You lift yourself onto your toes to kiss him. He cranes his neck down to meet you, and his hands fall down to your waist. You bring your arms up to wrap around his shoulders, trying to bring him down further. You need to forget about all of this. Just for a moment. You want to forget.

“Make me feel better,” you mutter against his lips.

He smiles a little, bringing his hands down further to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his wait. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

~

“Welcome, students.”

The gym is packed full of students. All the students and faculty are sitting in the bleachers or standing around the gym floor, watching the principal and the police officers giving an announcement front and center. You sit so close to Jake that your hips are practically glued together. Brynn’s on your other side with Andrew next to her. You keep wanting to glance over your shoulder where Eddie is sitting with his group, but you decide it’s probably best not to for the sake of not dealing with your friends and boyfriend’s bad attitudes.

“I know we are all aware of the recent losses in our community. Many of us are grieving the beloved memory of these fallen students. In an effort to avoid losing any more of them, our chief of police is going to set a few rules in place to keep our community safe from this unidentified individual.”

Principal Higgins steps back to offer Chief Hopper the floor. He steps forward, already looking tired as he directs his attention to the giant crowd staring at him.

He doesn’t bother with pleasantries. He gets straight to business. “From now on and until the killer is found, a town-wide curfew will be implemented.” People start murmuring in protest. “No one is to be out of their homes past nine o’clock. All doors will be locked and-”

Everyone is talking now. There are murmurs and shouts and boo’s and all kinds of protest as they respond frustratedly to these new rules. You personally don’t oppose them too much…

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Jake groans.

“This fucking sucks!” “What the hell, man?” “Seriously?” “We didn’t do anything!”

Chief Hopper isn’t having it. He cares little for the commotion, and it’s really just pissing him off.

“Hey!”

Everyone is immediately silenced. His voice is even harder now as he yells over the silence. He makes sure to enunciate every word. “All doors and windows will be locked. You are advised to come to school and then go straight home to reduce the risk of being hurt. Police will be patrolling the streets to ensure these rules are being followed. We advise you to stay in groups and be vigilant of your surroundings. Anyone caught breaking curfew will be brought in for questioning, which could lead to a possible arrest.” There’s more silence. No one wants to interrupt him again. “Am I understood?”

Everyone murmurs their reluctant agreement.

“Thank you.”

He stands back again. Principal Higgins steps forward. “Thank you, Chief Hopper.” He clasps his hands together. “Now let us all close our eyes and bow our heads for…”

You’ve tuned him out by now. You don’t have the strength to listen to him right now. You keep replaying that note in your head over and over again.

Once they’re all gone, we will be together…

“They’re calling him Ghostface,” Jake mumbles, keeping his voice low to avoid being called out. “‘Cause of the mask they found at Cassidy’s crime scene.”

You try not to flinch. “Why are we calling him anything but a murderer?”

He shrugs. “I mean, there are a lot of murderers.”

You glance at him, but you ultimately keep your gaze fixated on your hands as you rub at your palms. “I don’t think we should be villainizing him. I mean, people actually like villains.” I’ll pull all the loose strings for you, my little puppet…

He sighs lightly. “I think it’s a pretty sick name.”

“Jake.”

“Just saying.”

There’s a weird feeling burning into your back, like someone’s watching you. It spreads like a wave, and you fight the urge to shudder as you glance behind you to see what it is.

You see Eddie, and your worries are set aside. He offers a tiny grin and a thumbs up. He wants to know if you’re okay. You return the smile as best you can and give him your own thumb. You turn back around, feeling a little better about everything.

As soon as the assembly is dismissed, everyone is making their way back to class or wherever they intend to go. Jake kisses your temple and runs off with his buddies. Brynn and Andrew go with him.

Walking by yourself, you rub a hand over your arm to self-soothe. You’re at school. Nothing is going to happen while you’re at school. You go to your locker just to be there. You don’t want to go to class yet, and you don’t want to stand in the middle of the gym or the hall like some loser.

You’re there for barely a minute before someone’s standing next to you. You flinch when you realize it, quickly calming when you recognize Eddie and his sweet face. He gives you an apologetic look. “You okay? Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You nod, grabbing his arm and sighing with a small smile. “All good.” You grab your stuff and start down the hall with him at your side. You assume he’s walking you to class because his is at the other side of the school.

“How are you…?”

Both of you pause at the sound of Eddie’s name, pausing by the hall as you hear the familiar voices of some of Jake’s team members.

“Your girlfriend hangs out with that Munson guy?”

“I keep telling her.” Jake seems as displeased as Tommy H.

“Your girl’s a fucking freak for that, man.” That’s Andrew, Brynn’s boyfriend. You’ve learned to tune him out at this point.

“Hey, cut it out, Andy.” Chance is probably the most sane of the group, but he’s still an asshole. “That’s his fucking girlfriend.”

“Keep talking shit about her, and I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

Tommy’s voice is obnoxious. “Shouldn’t say that, or they’ll arrest you.” A round of laughter sparks among them. Jake’s is the loudest.

“Maybe they should.”

“They should just arrest Munson,” Chance deadpans. Your grasp tightens around a textbook. You’re getting sick of hearing it. “We all know it’s him.”

“Since your girl’s suckin’ face with him, maybe she’s in on it, too… But that’d make her a slut.”

Everyone laughs, even as you hear the scuffle of shoes and ruffle of clothes as some weird play fight breaks out between them. You assume it’s between Jake and Tommy.

Eddie’s hand gently grabs your arm, crowding your space to put a barrier between you and them. His gaze is schooled on your face. He seems really upset, but he hides it well so he can comfort you. You scoff, shaking your head as you stare blankly at the floor, your face set in passionate displeasure.

“I fucking hate jocks.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” he mutters, stroking your arm. Goosebumps erupt over your skin, your entire arm gets covered in them. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nod, looking up at him and letting the concern in his eyes ease you. “Yeah.” You readjust your grip on your book, turning the other to walk to his class instead. He lets you, because he knows you’re trying to self-soothe and he doesn’t want to interrupt that. “I’m more upset about everyone always assuming it’s you. Like they know you or something.” You mumble the last part more to yourself, but he hears it loud and clear. It’s heartwarming, your support of him.

“That’s sweet,” he says, “but I don’t really care that much.” Like he’s said before, he’s used to it. You still don’t like it, and he loves that about you. “I don’t know too many girls who take kindly to being called a slut.” He stops you so that he can properly look at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod, giving him your best smile in an attempt to convince him. He’s so sweet. You don’t want him to worry. “I’m good,” you shrug nonchalantly. “His friends are just assholes. It’s whatever.”

He doesn’t fully believe you, but he doesn’t want to press and stress you out. So he just nods and says, “Hey, you can sit with me during lunch so you don’t have to sit with them.”

You smile, and this time he believes it. “That sounds great.”

~

You’ve rustled through your bag maybe seven times now, and you still can’t find it. The amount of distress it’s causing you is a little unnerving. One thing. You just want one thing to be simple.

“Shit.” Eddie looks over at you, watches you put your head against the lunch table with a force that concerns him. He reaches a hand out and rubs circles along your back unprompted. “I left my notebook for my next class in my car.”

He raises a brow. “Are they really important?”

You turn your head to look at him. “If I miss any of these notes, I’m not passing this test.” And your teacher is a true asshole who refuses to delay the test even a single day to give you all a break.

Eddie’s already moving to stand, offering his hand to you. “I’ll go with you. You know, to keep you safe.”

You glance over at the table where Jake sits. He keeps looking over at you. When you slip your hand into Eddie’s, you know he’s pissed. You don’t mind it too much. “Thanks, Eddie.” He gives you one of those big smiles.

You walk with Eddie out of the cafeteria. There’s a cop posted at the door who checks the both of you out before letting you leave. The sun is really bright, despite the depression inside. It’s actually a bit glaring as you shield your vision from it. Eddie’s not having much luck with it either.

Eddie walks closely by you, and you appreciate the sentiment. You don’t feel as unsafe as you should—maybe it’s because it’s daytime and there are people around you. Nothing is going to happen in broad daylight.

You should really learn not to think things like that, though.

Eddie practically jumps in front of you as the loud screeching of tires alarms everyone around you. You startle, immediately looking towards the car that’s speeding through the parking lot. It’s loud and explosive. It hurts your ears, and you look away because you don’t know if you can take all this shock. You’re going to have a heart attack in your teens.

You cover your ears when it just barely crashes against the back of a car, bouncing off of it just to catapult into a giant pole.

The front is entirely caved in. There’s steam billowing from the hood as the back tires roll. One of the doors has flung open, and you stare in shock at what’s just happened. It takes you a moment to process Eddie’s protective arm over your front. You set a hand on his shoulder, and he immediately turns to examine you. “Are you okay?” he asks quickly, frantic as he looks over every part of you like you were the thing the car hit.

You start to nod when a blood curdling scream fills the air. Your head shoots to the scene of the crash, and you’re running toward it before you can even register Eddie’s protests. He chases after you.

You don’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t this.

It’s gruesome and graphic. Your hands fly to your mouth as you fight the urge to scream at the sight of two bloodied bodies lying cold in the back seat. They’ve been completely mutilated with the amount of times they’ve been stabbed all over. If you hadn’t known them so well, you probably wouldn’t have been able to make them out with all the blood and tears spread over their faces.

Telling flesh from organs (or even clothes) proved difficult. It was a mess of fabric and tissue. Some places were so abused that you could see bone sticking out of wounds, surrounded by flesh and meat. Your gut churned and churned. You wanted to look away, you’re almost begging to look away but you can’t.

That’s two jocks now, four dead bodies. First Jason, then Cassidy…and now Tommy H and Carol Perkins.

Their wide eyes are unblinking…

You can hear your breath in your ears. Everything else is so loud and muffled—the screams, the shouts, the chatter—but the heavy gasps of your lungs is a pound in your head that you can’t tune out. Everything seems to slow as you stare at the two, their bodies unmoving and broken by glinting blades. All you do is stare.

You don’t realize Eddie’s arm wrapped around your waist until he turns your head from the scene. You try to look back, but he’s shielding your gaze with his hand so that you can only look at him. “Hey, hey, hey.” His voice, though thick with breath and something you can’t place with the way your brain rushes, is grounding. “You’re okay. Let’s go. Come on.”

You just follow him because he’s the only steady thing you can focus on. He crowds you with his body, and you let him before it gives you something to focus on. The sight of them is still in your head, stuck to your brain like a dart in a dartboard. You don’t understand. You want to understand.

You don’t notice more people bursting through the doors. You don’t notice the cops following after with their guns drawn as they scream at everyone to get out of the way. You don’t notice more screams filling the air and police sirens from the cars already in the parking lot. You focus on Eddie’s warm palm against your palm as the other holds your hand tight.

You don’t know how much time has passed before you come to. Eddie’s rubbing your back and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. Everything seems calm enough to feel real. You lift your head heavily and look at him. His gaze is distant, and you take it as shock.

You tuck your arm under his to wrap it around his back. He looks down at you, blinking a couple times before continuing to just sit next to you. Everything is fine.

It takes longer than it should for you to remember Jake. When you think you can stand, you place a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and tell him insistently, “I…I’m going to find Jake. He’s probably freaking out, and…just please be safe. Please don’t get hurt. Be safe, please.”

Eddie nods, squeezing your hand gently before letting you go. “You, too. I’ll see you later, right?”

It takes a moment to process. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll try to call you.” He nods, squeezes your hand again, and then lets you go. As you turn away toward the thick crowd, you see Jonathan Byers joining Eddie. Argyle and Robin find them a moment later. At least he’s got company.

Everyone is in the cafeteria now. There’s police at every door keeping anyone from leaving. It’s very crowded, and for a moment, you think you can’t breathe, but you need to find your boyfriend.

It takes you a long time to find him. When you do, it looks like he's just now being told what's happened by his teammates. Brynn is at his side with Andrew holding her hands, speaking slowly. You finally get to them and drop to your knees to look up at him. He sits down heavily, dropping his face in his hands. He looks really tired.

“Jake?” you whisper, brushing his hair back from his face and gently holding his face to lift it up. He sees you, and his eyes dart between your own. His expression is so far away, and you begin to worry yourself sick. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you wait for anyone to tell you anything about what’s going on.

They send you home in groups, canceling school for the rest of the week while they’re at it. You worry about Jake driving, but he’s assured you that you’re okay enough and traffic is slow already. He drives in front of you, and you busy yourself with reading and rereading his plate numbers a million times just to try to avoid thinking about the corpses in Tommy H’s car.

You go to your house first. You hate the thought of walking in there right now, but you need clothes and things if you’re staying at Jake’s house for the next couple of days. You reach through the window of his truck on the way in, sliding a hand down his face. “You okay?”

He nods. He looks like he’s coming back to himself, but he’s still (obviously) deeply upset. “I’m good.”

You kiss his forehead before you’re headed inside with hesitant steps. Once the door is unlocked and open, you move quickly in an effort to grab all the things you need. As you’re passing the kitchen, you notice something sitting on the table. There wasn’t anything there when you were last here.

You swallow thickly, closing your eyes and slowly turning on your heel. When you open your eyes again to see, you swallow the insistent lump in your throat and set your bag on the counter. You walk slowly into the kitchen, and your hands begin to tremble all over again.

The note is the same handmade paper as before. This time, the smudge is on the outside over your name. Your heart is pounding so fast, you can’t even fathom focusing on it right now. You reach a hand out to grab it.

You hear Jake’s shoes as he steps through the front door. You swipe up the note and hide it behind your back as his gaze finds you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone sort of lazy.

You shake your head. “Nothing. I’m just gonna get my stuff.” You start walking toward the stairs.

“I’ll come with you.”

“No,” you sound more desperate than you mean to. But he wouldn’t understand. “No, it’s fine. Please don’t.”

He stares at you for a moment before deciding it’s not that big a deal. He steps back, nodding to himself. “Okay.” He turns on his heel and walks back to his truck to wait for you.

You rush upstairs, shoving open your bedroom door and locking it behind you. You almost yelp when you turn and see a black rose sitting on your bed. You slap a hand over your mouth and close your eyes to center yourself, breathing like that will make the rose disappear—and the letter, too, for that matter.

You lean against the door, your breath shaky as you look at the envelope. You tear it open slower than you had the first, pulling out the letter inside like it will explode if you’re not careful enough.

When all our enemies are dead and buried, we will be the ones laughing together. Soon, my perfect little puppet.

Your breath shudders as memories of just earlier that day pulse in your ears, Tommy and the team laughing at you for “being a slut”. Without wasting a second, Tommy haunts you with the sight of his open eyes, wide and bloodshot—as if he’d just seen a ghost.

This letter goes with the last one. You throw it into the closet and turn to your dresser for some clothes to stuff in a bag. But the top drawer is already open. A pair of underwear is missing. The only reason you know that is because it's the only red pair you have, and it’s not glaring you down.

You shake your head, grabbing the first sets of clothes you see and stuffing them in the bag. You lock all your windows, you lock your bedroom door behind you, you run down the stairs and ignore the fact that you could trip and fall at any moment (effectively breaking your neck and ridding you of the exhaustion of the mess that is your life right now).

You keep (re-locking) every lockable door and window in your house before you finally reach the front door. Once you’re sure it’s locked tight, you rush to Jake’s car with your bag thrown over your shoulder. You toss it in the back, and Jake pulls away as soon as your seatbelt is on. You’re glad he doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, because you know you’re not subtle.

~

The night is a little better once you get to Jake’s place (at least, it is for him once he's had a few beers). Brynn is over—Andrew had to stay home, his parents were too worried to let him leave the house.

But you've got the house all to yourselves. Jake's father is working all night at the precinct. There's no way he's coming home with a killer on the loose—a killer who's already claimed two jocks so far. He's not very keen on a third, especially with such a personal risk.

There's a movie on, and it's a nice distraction for them. Your mind is a little too preoccupied with the events of today (the events of the past few days).

As you glance over at Jake, you set a hand on his knee. There was a flash of something sad in his eyes for a moment. His mood, although it has improved, is still a little sour. It isn't so low that he looks like he isn't there—no, the beer has helped with that—but there's a faintness there that concerns you.

“You okay?” It's a dumb question, but it's the only one you've got. Brynn looks over.

Jake glances at you, nodding. “Yeah,” he says. “Just can't believe he got Tommy.” He shakes his head. “It's not fucking cool, he was a good dude.”

You can admit that you never really liked him. But that wasn't a reason for him to die.

He stands, swirling his empty beer can in his hand and going to grab another. You're still sipping—you never really liked the taste of beer, and Brynn seems to be almost through with hers.

He rustles through the fridge and cracks open another can. “I don't even know why anyone would do this.” He takes a generous swig, running a hand through his hair and shutting the fridge door.

“A fucking psycho, that's who,” Brynn mutters. She drapes a hand over her face. “Who knows what else he'll do?”

Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I try not to think about it.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands as you twirl your thumbs around the other. Brynn glances at you when you say nothing. You're doing that thing where the crease between your brows folds and unfolds. Something’s off.

“What's wrong?” she mutters. Jake looks at you.

You don't know how to tell them. You don't even know if they'll understand. Besides, with everything going on, your problems aren't nearly as important.

You go to dismiss it, but as you glance up and see them both watching you, you realize that you cannot sit here and pretend that nothing is bothering you this time. You look away, trying to find the words and feeling like you’re grasping at straws in a simple attempt at voicing your concerns.

“I…” You take a steadying breath, remembering the notes written to you on letters stained with blood. Fear circles your throat and makes it difficult to speak. You look up at Jake and Brynn. What if saying something about this meant they would both die? What if this thing, this sick, twisted thing going on between you and the killer means that everyone you love will end up dead?

Once again, you go to deny them the truth, the ugly truth of your peril…but you’ve already made that impossible. You swallow thickly, clearing your throat and hoping it will give you some courage.

“I’ve been getting these…these letters.” You clasp your hands together in an effort to stop their trembling. Your voice is soft, so soft that you don’t think they can hear you. “I think it’s from…him.”

Jake’s hand flexes, and you think for a moment that he’ll spill beer all over the place from crushing the can in his fist. “Who?” You think it’s possession over protection.

“The killer,” you say. Then your voice gets weaker. “Ghostface.”

Brynn makes a face. One that tells you that she doesn’t quite believe you. “Why would you be getting letters from this psycho?”

They’re not understanding. They don’t hear the fear in your voice.

“I don’t know. They’re these twisted love letters. I swear to God, there was blood on one of them.” You bring your knees up to your chest, trying to find warmth where fear has made your blood cold. You don’t look at them as you shake your head. It’s an absurd thing to say, but all of what’s happening is absurd. “I think this guy is killing for me.”

Brynn shakes her head, finding logic where you’re too emotional to look. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Jake agrees, coming back to the living room to lean on the couch beside you. “It’s probably just some fuckin’ creep playing with you.” He drinks from his can.

As reasonable as they sound—at least, it’s more reasonable than the theory you have—you can’t believe it. Too much has happened, and this is all too fucked up to try to rationalize. You shake your head, turning your body to face him.

“You don’t understand. He got into my house.” Jake’s eyes aren’t clear, and he looks generally unfazed. You reach a hand out to grasp his own, squeezing it to try to get him to listen to you. “He was there today.”

He tilts his head down. The way he looks at you is nothing if not condescending, but you try not to see it that way. “Maybe you left your door unlocked.” You think, as the son of a police officer, he should be more upset about something breaking into your house. Hell, as your boyfriend, he should be more upset about a guy breaking into your house. “Ie,” he continues, “someone’s playing a trick on you.”

You tilt your head, your anxious frustration turning to something more angry. “I always lock the door. Especially when my parents aren’t home—especially when there’s a psycho killer on the loose.” He shakes his head. You take his face in your hands, making him look at you again. “Jake, Cassidy tried to get me fired. I heard Tommy talking about me today.”

“And Jason?” he nearly snaps. He steps away from you completely. “How’s he connected, huh?”

You swallow. He’s the only one who sticks out. Jason was never unkind to you—though you know he can be unkind. He was, to those that counted to him, as gentlemanly as a jock can get.

You look down. “I…” You clear your throat lightly. “I don’t know, but I know something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, four people are dead.” He almost slams his beer on the counter. His voice cracks slightly, and he runs a hand through his messy hair. He speaks quietly, though not lacking the hurt in his voice. “That’s what’s wrong.”

You know he, Jason, and Tommy were friends, you know how much they mean to him. But—damn it—you should mean just as much! He’s supposed to have your back through this, just like you’ve had his. You’ve tried to be good to him this whole time, and then when you try to tell him how afraid you are, he throws it in your face.

It’s getting to be too much. You have grown used to the flimsy support of those close to you. You parents are almost always gone, your boyfriend has his team, your best friend has her boyfriend. Things used to be so good, and they’ve just been getting so stressful. You never ask for anything from any of them, and the one time you do, you’ve served with a steaming bowl of hot shit. It’s too much.

“I feel like I’m going crazy here, and neither of you are listening to me.” You run your hands down your face, covering your eyes and trying to steady your breath, trying to ease the heat in your chest from all the anger gathering there. “I feel like-like I’m being watched all the time.”

Brynn speaks up. “You’re just paranoid.”

“He was in my house!

You couldn’t stop it once it was out. Your shout was louder than you’d anticipated, and you feel like it’s the first time your words have ever been forced straight from your chest. There’s so much there that you feel like you have to catch your breath as the silence sits thick in the space between the three of you.

You look at Brynn. She stares down at her lap, timidly picking her nails. You look at Jake. He’s got his face in his hand as he leans against the counter.

They don’t believe you.

You can’t make them.

You stand up quickly, pushing yourself off the couch so hard that you almost fall forward. “I don’t need this.” You shove past Jake on your way to the hall, “You guys are supposed to have my fucking back.” Brynn turns to Jake, her eyes unblinking. You climb the stairs and barge into his room, grabbing your bags and repacking the things you’ve set out.

Jake has followed you up the stairs. “Come on, babe. Don’t act like this.”

It makes you seethe. “I’m going home.”

“How? You live too far, and you don’t have a ride.” You glare at him. That’s his concern. “Besides, you shouldn’t be out by yourself.” He adds it on like an afterthought.

You shake your head, closing your eyes and taking a steadying breath. “Then I’ll call someone to get me.” You slam your bag shut, forcing the zipper closed with far too much strength. “I just can’t fucking look at you right now.”

Jake grabs you, stopping you from what you’re doing to make you look at him. “Hey, babe, look, I’m sorry. Okay?” He makes you face him, his hands on your elbows as he cages you in. You turn your face away. “I’m being a huge dick… I believe you, okay?”

You huff, glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes. You take in the sight of him, trying to determine if he’s lying to you. He seems upset, genuinely. It’s foolish hope, but it’s hope, and that’s all you really want right now. “Do you?” It’s more accusing than it is anything else.

His voice is low, and he cradles your face in his hand. You let yourself, reluctantly, lean into his palm. “If that’s what you want.” You don’t like his response, but you push it away. He’s never had a way with words. “I’m sorry.” He pulls you close, bringing his other hand to wrap around your waist. “Let me make it up to you.”

You sigh, allowing yourself for just a moment to think maybe…maybe he means it. His thumb brushes over your cheek, the corner of his lips curves up. He leans in.

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

You shove him hard. You clench your fists at your side and feel yourself reaching a level of anger that is generally foreign to you. You're used to pushing it away.

Jake's shock quickly turns to annoyance, which forms a deep frustration as he huffs. “I'm so fucking sorry,” he mocks. He crowds your space, his face merely inches from his own as he speaks in a low voice that feels like he's shouting. “Two of my friends are dead, and you're making it all about you.”

You want to feel bad, but you can't. You're tired of feeling bad, you're tired of letting yourself be overlooked. What kills you is that he can't even realize that you're not okay—that you're hardly ever okay.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” You stare in shock and partially in pain, though you try to keep that hidden. It claws at your throat, and you feel like you can't speak; you push through it, despite the burning coals stuck in your throat. “I'm genuinely terrified that someone is trying to hurt me, and you're acting like this?”

He looks like he's about to rip his hair out—which is the point you're reaching as well. “Nobody is trying to hurt you! You're fucking delusional. Jesus Christ, why do you have to be such a whiny little bitch?”

A mix of emotions run through you, but all you do is stand there. You stand and you stare at him, eyes wide and welling, lips parted as your brows dip low.

It's one thing to have a stray thought that your boyfriend finds you annoying—even, perhaps, that he hates you. It's another thing entirely to have those theories confirmed, and in such a way! You look at the features of his face, all the rage and frustration peeling back into fatigue and a hint of regret. You stare even longer, longer than you were meant to, just wanting to see more regret than what he's giving.

You want him to fall to his knees and cry, to beg your forgiveness. But you know he would never beg. You know he would never fall. He never did. It was always you.

After all this time, you were always the one falling.

Ideally, you know you both need to take a step back, get some space. You need to clear your head and think about this so you can come back and figure this out. Especially with everything going on, feelings running high. You should be rational.

But you can't. 

The only thing you want to do right now is slam the door in his face, leave him standing there looking stupid. Because if you come back, if you make up and go back to normal…

You don't know how much more you can take.

Jake takes a step forward. “Babe–”

“Get the fuck away from me.”

“Babe, I'm sorry. I'm just–”

You hit his hand away when he reaches for you. “Don't fucking touch me.” You stare at him for a second longer, shaking your head before turning sharply to grab your bags. You make for the door.

“Babe–”

“Rot in Hell.”

You slam the door in his face, rushing down the stairs as quickly as you can. Brynn spots you, walking up to you quickly as she looks down at your bags. “Where are you going?”

“Fuck off.”

“You don't have your car–!” You slam the front door shut. You make sure Jake can hear it from upstairs.

No one follows you. You trek down the sidewalk, your feet heavy and your grip on your bags tight. Your heart is beating so hard, it comes with the sound of thunder in your ears. You know you're about to cry, you can feel it in the heaviness of your chest, the tightness in your throat, the hoarseness of every breath you take. You think briefly that you may die.

But the longer you walk, the longer you realize that you are outside. It's past curfew, late at night. You are alone.

And there's a killer on the loose.

It's the most inconvenient time for tears to fall. You can't see well, and you're breathing so heavily that you can't hear what's going on around you.

The streets are bare. There's no one around. The sky is drenched in darkness. Everyone is inside hiding from the killer, where they should be.

Where do you go?

You have no car. You live too far to walk. You refuse to go back and ask for a ride. You refuse to go back.

You swallow thickly, picking up the pace as you rush to the nearest payphone. There's one close by, you’ve passed by it a million times.

Once you're inside, you close the door quickly. But as soon as your hand is reaching for loose quarters in your bag, you realize they're shaking. You watch them, like leaves rattling in the window. As you bring them slowly to your face, you can't help it when your knees buckle.

You let yourself be carried to the ground, unable to hold it together long enough to find safety. It's all coming down so quickly, and you don't have the sense to allot time to cry after you've found it.

You'd hoped you were wrong, that your friends actually loved you. What a fool you were to believe such a thing. You'd grown so used to such a skewed perception of love that you don't think you'd be able to distinguish that from your twisted need to please every goddamn person you meet.

You like to believe that, at one point, it was real. It had to have been, right? It's been almost a year since you and Jake met. And Brynn has been your best friend since the beginning of high school. But that kind of distrust, those kinds of insults don't come from a place of love.

No, you don't think Jake ever truly loved you. It was simple attraction—attraction that wore off, that he probably got sick of but felt too obligated to preserve because you need someone. And there was a time for you and Brynn, but it has since passed.

You held on too tight.

It's nighttime and the sun has long since set. By the time you clear your face, you feel stupid for crying before finding safety. There are more important things than this.

You take a steadying breath. You need to be rational again.

You stuff a quarter in the slot and clear your throat as you bring the phone to your ear. It rings a few times, and you're scared he won't pick up.

“Hello?”

You recognize the voice, but it's not the one you're looking for. “Hey…” You clear your throat again. “I'm looking for Eddie? I'm one of his friends, we've actually met before.”

Eddie's Uncle Wayne pauses to think. You can imagine him scratching his head and rubbing his neck. He says your name in his low, gravelly voice.

You nod as if he can see you. “Yes, that's me.”

“Ah. Well,” he clears his own throat, “Eddie's at one of his friend's houses right now. That Harrington boy, should be. Staying in groups and all that.”

“Okay.” You hadn't anticipated that. You chew on your lip thoughtfully, trying to decide your best course of action. You know Steve, so maybe you'll be welcome. “Do you think you could give me his number?”

He makes this grunting sound, which is just the sound of him thinking. “Let's see,” he mumbles. “Should be in here somewhere.”

You've only interacted with Wayne a few times. He's very mellow, but he's kind and welcoming. And Eddie adores him.

“Harrington residence. What's up?”

“Hey. Steve? Is Eddie there?”

He says your name, double checking. It's been a little while since you've spoken, with him graduating and all.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, he's here.”

You let out a quiet breath of relief. “Could I speak to him?”

“Yeah, hang on.”

There's a shift. Then you hear Steve shout his name.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He already sounds concerned. “What's the matter?”

You rub your face. “Got into it with…” you take a deep breath and hope you don't sound as dreadful as you felt, “with Jake and Brynn. I don't wanna be home by myself. I know it’s past curfew but…” You glance around you in the dark. “Do you think you could come get me?”

There's a pause, and you wonder if you've said something wrong. Eddie is all enthusiasm. He's loud and excited, and he's quick to respond because he's happy to respond.

The silence makes you nervous.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah!” he recovers. “Yeah, of course. Where are you right now?”

You're glad he doesn't ask how you are. “I'm on Jake's street still.”

You hear a jingle. “Stay there. I'll be there in a few minutes.” You're surprised he doesn't ask why you're outside so late, but you're grateful nonetheless.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you smile.

You can hear his own smile through the phone. He's sticky with affection, and it makes you feel safe. “No worries, sweetheart.”

Continued....

Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @queermaxwooo @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog @thegr8estpuff @lover-of-books-and-tea @xxhanililoxx @quickslvxrr Eddie the Banished taglist: @iiiiluvhobie @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @queermaxwooo @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom @hiscrimsonangel

[alwaysthefool]

[Requested] Naïve MC/Reader x LADS (Xavier, Sylus, Zayne, Rafayel)

They realise you’re a little too sheltered when it comes to sexual/romantic stuff

Warnings: Discussions of purity, sex education (not NSFW), OOC MC. This wasn’t meant as suggestive!

Tags: Gender neutral reader, fluff?

This was the request, but I changed it up to exclude the mention of a club since the premise of short fics can’t address my feelings about the issue seriously… everyone has unique scenarios->

Xavier

As the work day ended, instead of waiting for Xavier as you usually would, you walked out with the new hunter you’d met recently, chatting merrily about your day. “So where we going?” You smiled, walking out the Association HQ.

“Your place or mine?” They replied, smiling back, looking down at you.

You didn’t think much of it before replying. “Mine, I guess!” It was just chilling while watching Netflix after all. You really wanted to check out this new horror series, but didn’t get the chance to ask Xavier since he was always busy, and you certainly weren’t going to watch it alone.

He laughed at that for some reason, so you laughed back, although a little confused.

You felt a hand on your shoulder right as you were about to leave the premises. “Ahem.” The two of you turned around to see Xavier behind you, a stern look on his face. You frowned at his expression, and also the fact that you didn’t even hear him follow you. “You gotta stop creeping up on people like this, man.” Your colleague sighed. At this point, everyone was aware of Xavier’s antics when it came to you (which is also what made it shocking to them that you’d agree to hook up with someone else).

“What did you mean you’re taking them to your house?” Xavier completely ignored the person next to you.

“Uh…”. You weren’t sure how to respond. Wasn’t this a normal thing? When you were younger, your friends would come over to your house all the time. Although oddly, they’d have to be approved by Caleb first. He never really told you why, though.

“What do you think, buddy? We’re Netflix and Chilling.” Your companion responded for you. You smiled at that, nodding. “Mhm!”

Xavier’s expression turned hurt immediately, and he bore his puppy dog eyes into yours. “Really, [Name]? You’re… doing that with them?”

For some reason, looking at him, you felt such guilt, you held his hand. “I’m sorry Xavier, if I’d known you wanted to watch that new show too, I’d have asked you instead!”

“Wait, what?” The two spoke in unison. The person beside you rolled their eyes. “Seriously, you’re saying you’d rather be with him in front of me?” Before they could continue, Xavier’s death stare made them throw their hands up in defeat and walk away, too scared to even murmur profanities within his vicinity.

“Hey, where-“ Before you could finish, Xavier turned your attention back to him, holding your hands in his.

“[Name].” His tone was serious, and his eyes concerned. “What do you think Netflix and Chill means?”

“Watching Netflix with chilled coke, of course!”

Xavier sighed, half in relief, half in tension. “I think there’s a lot we need to talk about. But for now, please just ask me if you want to watch a show, try out new Ramen, or ‘hang out casually’.”

Rafayel

“Care to tell me what exactly you’re doing, cutie?” That last word to come out of Rafayel’s mouth was laced with venom, and that irritated expression you’d become so familiar with was splayed on his face once again.

You looked down at your phone. “Uh, someone at work asked for pictures my feet so I’m sending them pictures of my feet.”

“Is this another one of your pranks?” Rafayel crossed his arms.

“No?” Right as you were about to hit send, he took your phone from you, deleting the pictures before you could stop him. “Hey!” You exclaimed.

“You might not…” Rafayel sighed, giving your phone back to you as he sat beside you, tired. “…not love me anymore, but doing this while you’re in my house is cruel.”

You threw your phone away, and turned to face Rafayel, holding his face. He turned away from you, driving daggers into your chest. “Hey, why are you mad? It’s just feet…”

Rafayel, slightly taken aback, let go of his anger and looked at you. “Cutie, do you know why they’re asking for pictures of your feet?”

You shrugged. “Maybe they like my pedicure!”

He put his hands in his head, letting out a laugh. Before you could respond, he squished your cheeks, giving your left one a kiss. You returned the gesture, kissing his right cheek instead.

“You really are the most precious pearl in the ocean. As much as I’d like to continue seeing this pure side of you, I don’t want you to get taken advantage of again.” He stood up, reaching his hand out for you. “Let’s go, you have a lot to learn.”

Zayne

Realistically he’d make you study medical and ordinary romance books LOL

Zayne wasn’t sure how to go about it, how to confront the person who he thought was the love of his life, on why he saw them dressed to the nines having dinner with someone else inside a fancy restaurant on his car ride home. Zayne swore it didn’t upset him much, and that he had bigger things to worry about, but the thought did not leave his mind until he heard a knock on the door.

You looked tired. You didn’t know why you went to Zayne’s house, but you didn’t know who else to talk to. When he opened the door, you almost thought he looked surprised for a moment before his professional face returned. He left the door open for you, and without a word, went to his couch, reading a magazine.

You were already upset, and felt like leaving upon seeing his behaviour, but you were also extremely tired. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” You spoke sarcastically. Zayne looked up at you, and you expected a snide remark from him, but concern etched his face. He put his magazine down and walked over to you.

“Why are you crying?”

You didn’t realise it until you felt wetness on your cheek. Zayne helped you get out of your shoes and helped you sit on the couch, bringing you a glass of water. He was way nicer than the guy you met today.

“I…” You took a sip. “I went out with a friend to celebrate his promotion, but he was being weird.”

You cried and explained how uncomfortable you felt with him asking questions about you, holding your hand, and then paying for the bill even though you didn’t want him to. It felt wrong and disgusted you.

“[Name],” Zayne was serious all of a sudden. “Did you… go on a date without realising it?”

Your tears stopped. “What? No, I mean, I just met him as a friend.”

He took off his glasses, keeping them in the pocket of his pajama shirt. “You said he wanted to meet you alone, for dinner, at a fancy restaurant, because he wanted you to be the one he celebrated his achievement with. You, and not his friends or family.”

“So?”

Zayne sighed. “You may not know it but he took you out on a date.”

You sniffled, and Zayne handed you a tissue, keeping his gentlemanly distance while patting your head. “I did not want the first date of my life to be this way.”

“It’s alright. I’ll make sure your next one is better.”

Sylus

Honestly he’d take this very seriously, sit you down, and explain this stuff without hesitation, because it’s super important to know.

It was just one meme at first. Then two. Then the whole discussion was about things you had no clue on, making you feel left out from your friend group. You groaned, throwing your phone away on the bed.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Sylus speaks, looking up from what he was reading on his chair. You had nothing to do on your day off and no energy to go outside, but Sylus still wanted to be near you, so you came over and lounged in his house.

“I…” You sat up on his bed, and he put his book on the table, focusing his attention on you. “I was very sheltered as a kid.”

“I can tell.” He quipped.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, anyway, it means I don’t understand what a ‘one night stand’ or a ‘hook up’ is, and I’m too scared to look it up.”

Sylus, as you expected, didn’t judge you. “Why are you scared?”

“Because I think it’s too late, and Caleb would be disappointed…” You knew Sylus didn’t like it when you brought Caleb up, but this time, his gentle expression stayed, as he took off his glasses, placing them inside his pocket.

“It’s never too late to learn about anything, especially things like these.” You gave him a polite smile. That was nice to hear. You shifted, sitting with your feet off the bed, to be a little closer to where he was on his chair.

“Not to mention, you have the best teacher in front of you.”

Bonus:

A while later, Sylus put on his glasses, frowning while going through your group chat, unsure of how to explain what they were discussing to you. “Maybe your brother was right, you have some crazy friends.” He joked.

-x-

[midnightfantasiez]

Training Session | Octoberfest Day 12

➺ Pairing - host!Younghoon x f!reader x client!Sunwoo

➺ Drink - Mystery Cocktail (wildcard x threesome)

➺ Summary - Never would you have expected one of your clients to actually come to you and ask for sexual advice. But when he does, there is no way you could turn him down & decide that it would be interesting to drag your fellow host from the club to join in on the fun.

➺ Word Count - 1,901

➺ Warnings - Smut (18+, minors DNI), profanities, dirty talk, both Younghoon & reader works in a host club (so yes it's in the red light districts set in Akihabara), petnames (honey, sweetheart), Sunwoo is pretty much inexperienced in here but he goes with flow and catches up along the way 👀, threesome, unprotected sex, blowjob, rough sex, cum tasting, spit kink (if you squint), face riding, doggy style, voyuerism, degradation, kissing, hickeys

➺ Author’s note - And here is the final installment of our Octoberfest collab!! it's been such a wild ride thank you to everyone who has been reading & supporting us!! this is my first time writing a threesome so forgive me if it seems awkward 😭 big shoutout to @daisyvisions for beta-reading this through for me i labyu loads 😘💗

➺ Taglist - @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @mamuljji @synthwxve @j4edo @h0mebody-heaven @nyu-topia @daisyvisions @momhwa-agenda @snowflakewhispers @from-izzy @kyaroscuro @kimsohn (join my permanent taglist here!)

➺ OctoberFest Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“I’m sorry, sir. You want the number one hostess to tend to you today?” 

“Yes, ma’am. That’s exactly what I said,” Sunwoo spoke firmly as he pointed at the signboard depicting all of the hostesses on duty for the night. 

“I’m afraid I might be unable to respond to that request, sir. Miss Y/N is a very busy person-”

“How much?” Sunwoo spoke louder, a hint of desperation showing as he slammed his credit card on the table. “I don’t mind paying extra if that’s the case.”

“But sir-”

“What seems to be the problem here?” You walked into what appeared to be a commotion that could easily get out of hand if left unattended. You placed a reassuring hand on the waitress’s shoulder, giving her a light tap to signal that you were fine handling this particular client and that she could return to her post.

The moment you sat down next to the man, he subtly scooted away and lowered his head, as if suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed, with a noticeable redness creeping up to his ears.

“What’s your name, sweetheart? It looks to me like this is your first time here tonight,” you said seductively as you crossed your legs together while pouring you and him a glass of champagne. 

“S-Sunwoo…” the male mumbled as he gladly took the drink and chugged it down in one sip. 

“Whoa! Are you okay? Here, let me help you.” You felt a moment of panic, realising the champagne you had served was a bit stronger than usual (your services were naturally a bit pricier as the top hostess) as you reached for a napkin and gently dabbed his plump lips.

“Y-Yes! I just…umm…need some advice, if you will….” 

“Oh? What kind of advice?” 

“This might sound awfully ridiculous, and you can laugh at me all you want-”

“Sunwoo.” You firmly rested one of your hands on his shoulders and squeezed him. “Hosts clubs are a safe space, and nobody will judge you for anything, alright? Just like how all these men and women have their own reasons for coming here tonight.” 

It seemed that Sunwoo still needed some time to compose himself, so you decided to be as patient as possible and gave him some space—since he was the client that you were dealing with now, after all. In the midst of all of that, the number one host just so happened to walk past and decided to take a seat next to you—joining in with the fun as he wrapped his arms around a girl he was entertaining for the night.

“Younghoon! What brings you here?” You asked.

“Can’t I come over to see how the number one hostess is doing? Might need to snoop around to make sure you don’t snatch my job away, too,” he joked.

“Oh, come on. You’re just jealous that there are two number-one positions in this nightclub. Maybe you should move to the club down the streets-”

“Please teach me how to please someone.” 

Instantly, you and Younghoon turned to look at Sunwoo, who was now pleading with you—his eyes wide and doe-like as he downed another glass of champagne in one gulp. You thought you must have misheard; it had been a while since you'd had to resort to that particular service for a client.

A new rule has been circulating in the streets of Akihabara: hosts and hostesses are discouraged from engaging in those acts due to new regulations that all employers and employees must follow. However, a little fun outside the workplace doesn’t hurt if both parties consent—and you’ll even earn some extra cash outside the club.

You hesitated momentarily before closing the distance between you and Sunwoo as you wrapped your fingers around his chin to lift his head up. “Are you sure you’re down for this? I’m not sure if you’ll be able to handle the lessons that I provide, though.” 

Determined, Sunwoo grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he stared deeply into your eyes. “Affirmative.”

With that, you simply smirked before turning your head behind to look at Younghoon while giving him the look before you leaned in close to whisper into Sunwoo’s ears.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, honey.”

The repetitive sounds of something popping in and out of your mouth, followed by the hard, rhythmic chugging, filled your apartment. Sunwoo’s moans grew increasingly unrestrained as he gripped the sheets, while your beloved number-one host continued to thrust from behind at his own steady pace.

When you first brought it up, Sunwoo wasn’t sure about heading to your apartment to do the deed. However, when you slammed the door shut and kissed him feverishly at your doorstep, he instantly changed his mind and allowed you to do whatever you wished. 

It wasn’t long before you both entered your bedroom and threw the man right on your bed before you started stripping him and pulling out his cock to massage it a little before taking it all in your mouth. Since you had invited Younghoon over, he wasn’t going just to stand there and do nothing as he witnessed the scene unfolding before him.

While you were keeping Sunwoo busy, Younghoon wasted no time stripping both you and himself before positioning you on all fours. He quickly pulled out his already dripping wet cock that had his precum oozing all out before inserting it entirely into you. 

At this point, it was a full-on battle on who was going to cum first and whoever’s moans would be louder than the other. As Younghoon started picking up his pace, so did you with Sunwoo’s cock as you slowly tasted his precum dripping out from his member.

“Y-Y/N! I’m coming!!” Sunwoo yelped as you lowered your head to the point where you felt his tip touch the back of your throat before he released all of his liquids into you, the excess slowly dripping down from the corners of your mouth.

Sunwoo was bewildered to see the sight before him, but you wasted no time to crawl up against him to connect your lips with his—spitting back a little portion of his cum into his mouth.

“Taste yourself, baby. Look how well you did for me,” you cooed as you kept praising him for being such a good little puppy for you.

Just then, a sound was heard behind you as your fellow host did the same, with his liquids dripping down to your thigh as he came down from his high. “It’s not fair that Sunwoo gets all the fun while I don’t,” he sulked.

“Someone’s jealous, eh? Be patient, I’m just about to deal with you right now,” you teased as you turned behind to position Younghoon’s cock on your lips. But just before you begin all the fun, you instruct Sunwoo to lie down further, and you slowly rest your hips on his face. 

You could tell he wasn’t too sure about the whole idea, but you reassured him that it’d all be worth it. When he finally nodded, you completely relaxed as you sat on his face—rolling your hips a little for him to start licking your dripping wet clit.

Now that Sunwoo was preoccupied, you could finally start licking the tip of Younghoon’s cock as he threw his head back. You knew that out of all the girls back at the club, he’d always try to find the time to get to know you better outside of work—even though none of you decided to label whatever your relationship with one another is. 

It all started with just catching up outside of work and sharing about your days. Slowly, that turned into meeting up regularly at each other’s apartments, and you ended up spending the nights with him a lot.

It definitely was a first for a client like Sunwoo to ask you to teach the young lad himself some lessons. Still, knowing how Younghoon quickly gets jealous whenever you spend a tad bit more time with other guys than himself, you figured you might as well invite him to tag along and show him much more of what else you’re truly capable of.

“You nasty little slut; what’s up with you asking me to join in this whole little fun that you’re doing with Sunwoo?” Younghoon growled. 

“What? I’ve always wanted to try a threesome—besides, Sunwoo is having the time of his life eating me out underneath-” You paused in between as Sunwoo’s tongue stuck deeper into your clit, biting your lips whenever he hit a good spot. 

And Younghoon was not enjoying that look you have on your face. “You’ve got the audacity to act like this in front of me, don’t you?” 

Before you could even respond, he bucked up his hips as he cupped your face before pushing his cock in swiftly—making you choke in response to his action.

“All talk now, are we? I’ll remind you who is the one you should only be eating out regularly instead-” He let out a deep huff before a smirk was plastered across his face as he pushed your head back and forth—controlling your movements and not giving you a chance to escape from his grip.

As much as Sunwoo was taking his time to explore every area possible underneath truly, your sudden soft moans that turned into whimpers suddenly aroused him even further—making him wrap his arms around your thigh and pulling you down aggressively before picking up his pace to match with Younghoon’s. He was now attaching his lips to yours as if his life depended on it. 

The overstimulation was starting to get out of hand for you as teardrops began dripping down the corners of your eyes before eventually cumming all over Sunwoo’s face as Younghoon, too, released everything he’s got into your mouth. When he finally pulls out his dripping cock with a pop, you immediately fall straight down onto your bed in defeat—slowly trying to calm your breathing down.

You were convinced that everyone would take a break after all of that. Still, you have certainly underestimated how sickening Younghoon can get once you both start this whole game of provoking one another—because now you find yourself being flipped over.

Sunwoo was crawling up on you as he connected his lips with yours, turning it into a battle of swirling each other’s tongues. You slowly opened your eyes to see that Younghoon was now sitting at your desk, witnessing the whole thing, as he let out a menacing grin.

You didn’t fully understand what that meant, as you were trying your best not to get distracted. Sunwoo started moving down to your neck and began sucking while he brought forward his cock to your entrance and started rubbing his tip against your sore clit.

“Y-Younghoon…w-what’s going on?”

“I’m sure Sunwoo has picked up the skills he needed by watching me fuck you real good minutes ago.”

The moment Younghoon crossed his arms and legs as he leaned back onto your chair, he simply tilted his head to the side before smiling at you—one that you knew very well yourself that hid malicious intent behind that pretty face of his.

“And now, I’m going to be the judge of that and guide him along the way to the point that you can forget about walking properly for the next day or two.” 

[mustainegf]

Hi Elena!

I took a deep breath and assembled my guts to send a non-anonymous request 😂.

It’s the classic trope of being James’s controversially younger GF. She has a secret insta account so she occasionally checks the comments. And many people criticize her for being a gold digger and using James to get famous (despite she got no official social media accounts and doesn’t do events, unless she’s there with James). But she’s mostly saddened because they criticize him and call him a pervert for being with a much younger woman. So she decides to break up with him for his sake and public image, but never tells him it was because of cyber bullying.

And maybe a few weeks after the break up, one of other band members shows him the comments and some fans are celebrating that they broke up. And he realizes the true reason for the break up? And in the end, they reconcile and maybe he makes a statement asking everyone to respect his personal life?

I’m a big fan your blog, so hopefully you’ll like the request sgd will consider writing a story 😊. No pressure though))

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ²⁰²³

Just all attention that I never wanted, and people obviously stared, judged, and picked apart everything that I was doing, making me super exposed in the most unimaginable way. But yeah, that is a given when you're dating somebody like James Hetfield. Perhaps his name fills up stadiums and blows up newsfeeds.

So looking back, I didn't know what lay ahead as I met him. It was obviously just me and him at first, laughing at little stuff and having a good time over music and life. It was like finally, here's someone who understands me in a way nobody ever has. But man, it all flipped once we went public.

It just seemed like, overnight, it wasn't just us anymore. I never thought it would blow up this bad. People thought I was in it for all the wrong reasons, that I was a gold digger trying to leech off of his fame. But to be honest, the worst of it all wasn't even what they said about me, it was the stuff they said about him.

"He's a pervert."

"How could he be with someone so young?

"They look ridiculous together."

All that that was commented on, I could have completely avoided. I didn't have any social media other than this private Instagram for my use. Yet, honestly, I'd be lying if I said that I never went onto it. I would scroll through and read the comments of some random fan posting in search of some sort of acceptance. But of course, it was just the same brutal tale, the fans tore into James, calling him a creep for even dating anyone of my age.

Man, that hurt. It was not about me, the rumors and all the whispering around, I could handle it. It just was for him, you know? He was a legend, he'd given so much to the world with his music. And now, it felt like people were just using me to take shots at his legacy.

He had totally missed those comments. James wasn't the type to spend too much time online. The real world was sufficient for him.

He had been so nice to me, really supportive, and utterly clueless about all the hate coming our way. He was of the opinion that what we had was strong and would get us through anything. I wanted that to be true, too. Yet, with every post claiming him a creep, or that he's lost all his dignity, I was just simply ruining his reputation.

I liked him so much, and because of that, I made the toughest decision: I broke up with him.

I didn't tell him what it really was for. I just told him I needed space. Of course, he didn't get it. How could he? Everything was all right; there wasn't a fight or at least any huge issue.

I could definitely see the confusion and pain in his eyes as I walked out that day. It really got to me, but I kept telling myself, it's all for his good. He would be much better off in the long run rather than having me holding him back in front of his fans.

The weeks that succeeded seemed to be like a vacuum. I missed him more than I had ever thought I would: how he hummed a tune of some old song while cooking or how he stared at me as though nobody existed in a room full of people. I never changed my mind but kept my distance and followed his movements through whispers of mutual friends, sometimes in the news and other media.

So, one day, this was the fan post I came across from my secret Instagram feed: an appreciation post due to our breakup, saying, "Finally, James can move on and find someone better." Plenty of those comments, cheering on the end of us and acting like they knew what was good for him. Well to be frank, part of me was relieved; I did make the right choice.

But another part of me kinda felt gross, I guess. These people didn't know him like I did. They didn't see the dude behind the music, the one that'd hug me tight after a long day and make everything feel okay.

A few weeks passed, then finally I heard from James himself, by that time I had thought he'd moved on, found his peace in the break up. One of the band members showed him the comments, Lars, if I can recall. I didn't expect that. I thought all the poisonous words of the fans would never find their way to him, that he would never have to see just how cruel people could be. But Lars showed him, and suddenly everything came back.

I got his call pretty soon afterwards. His voice sounded just like it was then, chilled yet serious, in a continuous effort to sort out something big.

He asks, "Why didn't you just tell me.?"

Well, I played the role of clueless well, like I didn't know what he was talking about, but James really wasn't buying that. He got it, saw comments, accusations, those low remarks, judgments, and thus put them together. He knew why I had bailed.

"I thought it was best that way," I finally managed to respond.

"For who?" he asked in a voice that was slightly hoarse.

"For you," I said; my voice was all choked up. "I didn't want people constantly putting you down because of me."

There was nothing but silence on the other side of the line for a long period of time. Then he spoke again, "I don't care what they say, you know?"

All I wanted was to just have the ability to trust him, but I knew words cut, even when people act like it did not hurt. I knew how committed he was with his legacy, how the fans looked up to him. I just did not want to be that to ruin it.

"I care," I said softly. "I just can't handle them ripping you to shreds because of me."

After some time, the reply came in the form of James's soft, subdued voice, "I want you, not them."

This well of my tears, you know the ones that almost spill but hold back. He was too good, you know. He was so understanding, and all the time. Yet, I did not know whether this could mend that which already was messed up.

Days later, James gave a statement to the public. He did not name anybody, but it was like you could read between the lines. He was asking for respect, not just for himself but for the people surrounding him, he owed no one explanation for whom he chose to love, this is his own thing. And honestly, if people are not able to handle it, then maybe they were never true fans to begin with.

The weight of his words was much heavier than what I could ever have imagined. Just words, but powerful words,he was defending me, defending us, in a manner I couldn't even have imagined, and it suddenly felt like this cross of public opinion wasn't weighing on me as much as I thought it had been.

After that statement, James called me up again, and this time I didn't give it a second thought. We met, and the very moment I saw him, everything fell in place once again, the stress, the distance, just gone in his arms.

"I never wanted to hurt you," I said, my voice all shaky.

"You didn't," he said, reaching and pulling me close. "I only wish you had told me sooner."

Of course, people judge and whisper behind our backs, but honestly, that doesn't weigh me down like it used to, since now I have James with me, and I know what we have is tougher than anything those random people can say.

This time I am definitely hanging on.

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 22: ~

Reunions Part 2:

And now, it's Addair's turn. The next chapter will be a one-shot release for Halloween. It'll be out tomorrow.

Addair and Raffs had no reason to work together on The Beria, but on the farm, they oddly worked well together. Raffs thought Addair must have been a handyman in his previous life because he seemed to know everything. And not just from checking the fences.

When they passed through a deserted field, Addair's eyes caught the attention of a tractor that was beginning to rust. Instead of helping Raffs pry off the broken board for a new one, he lifted and examined the vehicle. From the punctured tires to the cracked clutch. Instead of being frustrated with Addair, Raffs was in awe of him. Not for the god-like strength he now possessed because he knew he could never come close to that, but for how knowledgeable he was.

He watched the engineer point out the faults and how he would fix them. Raffs was always willing to learn, and even if he'll never see farming in his future, it was a good way to break the ice with a man he was told to avoid.

'Will it ever run again?'

'After some trial and error, it might.'

'How do you know that?'

'I've only been an engineer for six years, Raffety. Before that, I did anything to scrape by.' That wasn't an original story. Like Caz, Roy, Innes, and possibly many others, they all came to the rig to either escape something or make a change. Raffs was different. He just followed Brodie. Brodie came for the prospect of money. Something that wasn't at all selfish in this economy.

As the pair finished their round, the sound of the snow crunching beneath their feet got closer. They didn't react at first, thinking it was Caz coming to help as Raffs began to hammer a nail into the post. That was until Addair heard the voice.

'Dad! Dad!'

Like with Gibbo, time froze, but unlike Gibbo, Addair turned with a smile on his face. He dropped the fence board he was holding, leaving Raffs to deal with it alone, and scooped up his son into a hug.

'Richard.' The youngest of his boys. Only seven years old. 'I missed you so much. Did you miss me?' Raffs was surprised. Not just because Richard didn't care what his dad had become, but because he had to remind himself that Addair was a member of the National Front. Looking at him now, you couldn't tell. Here, he was just being a good father. Who knew someone like Addair was a person under his political beliefs?

Richard nodded. 'Did you get my Christmas card?'

'Of course, and I let everyone know you made it. Now, where's Elliot?'

He knew where he was. It was a game the twins would often play. Richard would cause a distraction whilst Elliot tried to scare their dad. It never worked. Addair would either pretend to be scared or figure out his hiding spot. This time, it was the latter. Elliot had snuck is way around by going through the field. Raffs saw but didn't say anything. Instead of scaring his dad, Elliot felt a tendril wrap around his arm and be pulled up and over Addair's head. 'Oh, here he is.'

'Here I am!'

With a laugh, Addair brought his sons into a hug. Being the only one of two infected who still kept his arms had its advantages. Raffs smiled. It was a sweet reunion, but that soon came to a halt thanks to the voice of a woman only a few yards away.

'Calm down? How can I be calm?!' It was Jennifer. She stood beside her second eldest son, George, who looked both shocked and terrified by his mother's rage. Addair noticed, too, and set the boys down besides his work colleague. That was Raffs' cue to take them back to the house. 'My husband, your father, has been turned into that!'

Well, that stung. Still, Addair wasn't worried. He approached Jennifer, who had her back turned, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, turned, and took a few steps back. Okay. Now it hurt. Whatever remained of Addair's smile faded, and slight worry began to creep into his mind. He saw her eyes. She was scared, confused, and didn't know what to do with herself. This was Geroge's time to slowly step away and follow his brothers to the house.

'Jennifer. It's okay. It's just me.' She didn't reply. More worry. 'It's okay...'

'Stop saying that, Addair.' Now, complete worry entered his mind. She never called him by his name. Jennifer swallowed her fear, which was born from shock. But, now it was replaced with worry, but she couldn't bring herself to move. 'Look at what's happened to you. How are you okay?'

The words cut deep. Addair's jaw tightened, trying to hold himself strong to her words. A look of shame was in his eyes. Jennifer noticed and began to feel guilty, wondering why did she say such a thing. He wasn't okay, and they both knew that.

Addair carefully held out a hand and reached forward. 'But, it's still me, Jennifer. ' His hand rested on her cheek. After a moment, she leaned her face into him and, like Trots, rested her hand on his wrist. Her shoulders dropped, and she closed her eyes. She moved her head so that her face was in his hand. His smell was still there. Now, Jennifer didn't want to let go. Her fingers traced and touched his wedding ring. Tears swelled, but she stayed strong as she started to play with it.

Addair moved closer and adjusted his body to make it look like he was sitting. Carefully, he pulled and lifted Jennifer up and into one of his signature bear hugs. She clung to him, now no longer caring if she was hugging an exposed organ or blood vessel. 'Does it hurt?'

'No,' Addair answered truthfully. 'Not anymore.' More silence, as the pair enjoyed the moment. 'How's Tommy?' The question broke the hug. Jennifer's eyes were still full of tears.

'Still the same,' she replied as she began to unfurl her scarf to wrap it around Addair. 'The doctor said he still has brain activity, but apart from that, he's still sleeping.' A pause. 'I just want him to wake up.' Now, she began to cry, and Addair pulled her back into a hug. 'But that could take years.'

'And, we'll be there when he does. Okay? Please don't cry, Jenny.' Addair hated seeing his Goddess upset.

Of course, they had to think of Addair. How can he go back into society with a job, let alone go and see his son? That's what he wondered back when the fog was lifted. The question fueled his own anger towards Rennick, but Gibbo got to him first. But this wasn't about him anymore. He was just grateful to be back on land. He was grateful to have his wife in his arms and to see his sons smiling. The only thing they had to worry about now was Tommy.

He felt a kiss on his cheek that tightened the hug. They'll stay like this. At least for a little while.

[nausicaamusiclover20]

I saw you do requests for Jason? So I had an idea? You know how he left Metallica in 2000, cause he wanted to keep up with music and they were getting married, kids etc and he’s know to state that he doesn’t want children? So maybe his fiancé finds out that she’s pregnant but knowing he’s not into that she comes up with some stupid excuse to break up? So he’s mad at her, but when he finds out she broke it off cause of pregnancy? And although the child wasn’t on the plan, he is happy snd he will do his best to be a good father so they reconcile and they still get married later?

Omg, I loved this request so much. I hope you like it!❤

The reason I stay

Y/n stood at the kitchen counter, her heart racing as she stared at the small red lines on the pregnancy test. The realization hit her like a thunderclap, echoing in her mind. She was pregnant.

It was a truth she never expected to face, especially now. She had been so caught up in her relationship with Jason, a man whose passion for music was matched only by his fierce independence. He had always been clear about his feelings toward children—he didn’t want them. The thought of revealing her pregnancy was daunting, but the pain of their recent breakup gnawed at her just as much.

After days of agonizing over what to do, Y/n made the hardest decision of her life. She told Jason she needed space, hoping it would protect him from the life-changing news that she had to bear alone. It felt like stepping off a cliff, the void beneath her unfathomable and terrifying.

“Jason, I just think… maybe it’s better if we take a break,” I said, my voice trembling as I tried to steady myself. I couldn't meet his gaze, fearing the disappointment I might see reflected back at her.

“What? You can’t be serious!” He looked at me, disbelief etched across his face. “What do you mean ‘take a break’? We’ve been through so much together. Why would you want to leave now?”

“Because I love you!” I exclaimed, her voice cracking. “I love you too much to drag you into this. You have your career, your music. I can’t let this…  ruin everything for you.”

Jason’s expression shifted, anger flaring in his eyes. “You think leaving me is going to fix anything? You think I can just move on like this? I thought we were a team!”

“It’s not about that!” I shouted back, feeling the weight of her decision crash over me. “It’s about giving you a chance to live your life the way you want, without me getting in the way. I can’t be the reason you miss out on everything you’ve worked for!”

“Y/n, stop. You’re not a burden to me. You’re the woman I love,” he said, his voice dropping to a pained whisper. “Why can’t you see that?”

“Because I do see it!” I cried, tears spilling down her cheeks. “But I can’t be selfish. I have to think about what’s best for you. Maybe… maybe it’s time we both moved on.”

“Moved on?” Jason’s voice trembled with emotion. “Is that really what you want? To just throw everything we’ve built away?”

“I don’t want to lose you, Jason. But I don’t want to be the one who ruins your life,” I said, her heart breaking at the thought of what she was saying.

“Y/n, don’t do this. Please,” he pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. “We can figure this out together. I can’t just let you walk away.”

But Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself. “I have to. For both of us.”

-----

The knock cut through the silence of her tiny apartment, sharp and persistent. She sat frozen on the couch, her heart drumming wildly. She hadn’t expected anyone—hadn’t wanted to, really. Moving here was supposed to be a fresh start, but she knew deep down that you can’t move away from your own heartache. 

When the knock came again, more insistent, she forced herself up, wrapping her sweater tightly around herself. Her hand shook as she opened the door, already knowing who it would be.

Jason stood there in the dim light of the hallway, his face a mix of disbelief, frustration, and something else she couldn’t quite read. His hand was clenched around a small plastic stick—her heart dropped. The pregnancy test. 

“You’re pregnant.” His voice was low, rough, as if he’d been running on nothing but adrenaline to get here. His gaze held hers, intense, raw, filled with questions she’d been too afraid to answer even for herself. “And you weren’t going to tell me?”

Her stomach churned. She’d pictured this moment a hundred times, and every time, she’d told herself she was doing the right thing. But now, with him standing right in front of her, the reality of her choice settled like a weight on her chest. “Jason, I… I didn’t think you’d want to know. I thought it would just—”

“Make things worse?” he interrupted, incredulity flashing in his eyes. “Did you seriously think keeping this a secret would be easier for me? You left me, without a single word. I spent weeks trying to figure out what I did wrong, why you suddenly didn’t want us anymore. And now, this?” He held up the test between them, his voice laced with hurt.

The weight of his words crashed over her. She took a step back, feeling the wall behind her as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “Jason… I thought I was doing what was best for you,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “You’ve always made it clear you didn’t want kids. I didn’t want to hold you back from everything you’ve worked so hard for. I thought… I thought you’d hate me if you found out.”

His face softened slightly, but frustration still colored his features. “You don’t get to make that decision for me,” he said, his voice raw. “Maybe I never planned for this—hell, I’ve spent years convincing myself I didn’t want it. But you’re a part of my life now, more than anything else has ever been. How could you think I wouldn’t want to be here, for you?”

Her lip trembled, and she looked away, trying to blink back the tears. “Jason, you’re finally getting to do everything you dreamed of. I didn’t want to be the one who… who ruined it all.”

He let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair, eyes glistening as he looked at her. “Ruin it? You think a family with you would ruin my life?” His voice dropped, gentler now. “Maybe I don’t know the first thing about being a dad, but I know that losing you, not being there for you… that would ruin everything.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she bit her lip, shaking her head. “I was just trying to protect you. I thought you’d feel trapped, and that’s the last thing I wanted.”

His hand reached out, brushing her cheek gently, wiping away the tear with his thumb. The touch sent a shiver through her, and she closed her eyes, leaning into his palm despite herself. “Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know I love you. And I can’t lose you—not like this. Not over something we could have faced together.”

Her chest ached with relief, the tension of weeks melting under the warmth of his touch. She could barely see him now through her tears, and she felt herself crumbling, her defenses breaking down completely.

“Are you sure?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I mean, really sure? Because this… this isn’t just about us anymore. It’s about a future we can’t take back.”

His hand slipped into her hair, his fingers threading gently through it as he pulled her closer, his gaze softening as he looked down at her. “I’m terrified. But the thought of you going through this alone? That’s worse. I want to be here, every step. Even if I have no clue what I’m doing, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

A sob escaped her lips, and she collapsed into his arms, clinging to him as her tears finally broke free. He wrapped her up, holding her tightly, one arm around her waist while his other hand continued to stroke her hair, comforting her in that steady, grounding way only he could.

His chin rested atop her head, and she felt the gentle rhythm of his breathing, steady and sure. His fingers moved slowly through her hair, easing her back to calm with each gentle stroke. “We’ll figure this out,” he murmured, his voice low, soothing. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m right here, okay?”

She nodded into his chest, taking in the comforting scent of him, feeling the warmth radiate from his embrace. And in that moment, with his arms around her and his fingers tracing gentle circles in her hair, she felt, for the first time, the weight of her fears begin to lift.

When she pulled back slightly, he looked down at her, wiping the last of her tears from her cheeks. “We’re in this together,” he said softly, a hint of a smile breaking through. “You and me… and the little one. No matter what.”

A tear slipped down her cheek again, but this time, it was different. She managed a small, tentative smile, reaching up to brush her fingers along his jaw. “I don’t deserve you, you know.”

He shook his head, resting his forehead gently against hers. “We deserve each other,” he whispered, his hand finding hers and lacing their fingers together. 

And as he held her close, the ache in her chest softened, replaced by something new and fragile but beautiful—a sense of hope, and the promise of a future they’d face together, no matter how uncertain it might be.

---

Months later, under the soft glow of the evening sun, she stood beside him, feeling the warm brush of a late spring breeze across her shoulders. Their small circle of family and friends looked on as they exchanged vows, tears shining in her eyes as she gazed into his eyes, unable to keep the smile from her face.

Jason reached out to take her hands, his thumb brushing over her knuckles, and gave her that same determined look she’d seen the day he’d shown up at her door. He took a steadying breath before saying, “I promise to be here for you and… for us. Whatever comes our way, I want this with you.”

Her heart swelled, and the love she felt radiated through every fiber of her being. As they leaned in to seal their vows with a kiss, he gently cupped her face, brushing his thumb across her cheek before their lips met in a tender, lingering kiss. She felt herself melt into his touch, the world around them fading into warmth and peace.

They pulled back, and he wrapped her in his arms, leaning down to whisper, “Forever, okay?”

A few tears slipped down her cheeks, and she nodded, her fingers tracing the collar of his shirt. “Forever.”

In the crowd, someone cheered, and the laughter bubbled up between them. With one last gentle kiss to her forehead, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as their family and friends showered them with petals. For the first time, they weren’t just two people in love but a family. And as she leaned into his embrace, she knew that together, they’d be ready for whatever came next.

[mayasaurusss]

Day thirty: Search for me in the night.

A/N: a few things. First, I have not yet watched the show, so this version of Rhiannon is what I gathered about her from other fics I've read. This might have some errors about her personality or the show all together. Secondly, I haven't proofread this :')

Contains: light smut, description of wounds, not proofread.

How much time has it been? One week? A month? Years? You don't even remember why you kept on following, but you know it's your only option, it's your duty. Your boots sink in puddles of water, grimed by mud and fallen leaves; the harsh cold autumn wind bends the trees and hits your face, making an uncomfortable feeling rise from the tip of your nose to the end of your cheeks. What the priest had told you was that there was something that you'd have to take care of, something that "Your kind surely knows how to handle". You hadn't liked how he said it. Still, you continue, searching and asking around for your target: a young woman with brown hair. That's all you knew about her, despite the fact that she was described as begin an outgoing person and that she had a mole on her right cheek.

You were closer to your target by now: during your travels you met a vendor, a woman who had pinpointed you to where the woman went, as well as telling you tales of the creature that roamed the forest in the dark dead of night. You knew nothing more than this, and you thought to yourself that "Maybe, next time that priest gives me a job to do, I'll ask for more details".

The road is winding, difficult to walk on through the slippery mud and vines poking at your legs. You are short out of breath, and the road just keeps on going. You have been walking on this hill inside the forest's heart for a while now, maybe twenty minutes, and the rain has begun to fall down on your body heavily, making your journey less than pleasant. If you only could, you'd fall to your knees and hit the ground, giving up on your research. But you can't, you won't. Just as you were about to give up, you see something in the distance: a path that unravels to an old manor, much bigger than any you've ever seen. It looks old, like it has been there for centuries, but has been well maintained through time. You can see the dancing reflection of fire from inside one of the rooms, giving you the urge to run inside and dry yourself in its warmth. But as much as you feel relieved to have found shelter, you know not of letting your guard down. No, the difficult part has just started.

You let five minutes pass, eyes vigilant to see if anything weird happens, before you make a bee line to the manor's door. You know on the heavy wood door one, two, three times before they're swung open. A brown eye peers at you, sizing you from head to toe. Whoever is behind the door is silent, waiting for you to talk first and tell them your troubles. "Good evening ma'am! I have-" you swallow your saliva, watching how the stranger's eye is suddenly very interested in your neck. "I am sorry to have disturbed you, but I've been caught by a storm. Is there any chance I could ask for shelter?".

As if just now understanding the meaning of your words, the stranger's eye lids up and you hear her voice for the first time. "Sure, come on in!".

The manor looks huge inside; darkness seeping into every corner, high walls that seem to continue on forever and a grand staircase that leads to the first floor. You are so awestruck in admiring the room that you don't notice the woman who has been standing near you all this time. "If I hadn't seen the strength of the storm outside, I would have thought that the only reason you came in was to take my home away from me!". You feel the heat of embarrassment creeping on your cheeks and turn around to see the most beautiful woman you've ever seen smiling at you.

She has an aura to her person that makes you want to fall down and worship her. You are so enraptured by her beauty that you don't immediately notice the mole on her right cheek. Your target.

You quickly clear your throat, hoping she didn't notice your strange behaviors, and put on your facade quickly. "I am sorry miss, I hope I'm not too much of a bother" she simply hums, looking at your state, "Not at all, and please call me Rhiannon".

"Follow me" with that, you follow her to the first floor of the house, making your way through the darkness. "This manor is centuries old," she explains, "my family has never intended to install any light system, so during winter most of the rooms are dark. We'll have to walk using this" she lights a candlestick and takes your hand, walking you through the hallways. "Why don't you light some oil lamps then?" you can't see her but you hear her laugh, suddenly sounding much more sinister in the dark. "You never know. I wouldn't want my house to be set on fire, it's best if I can see it directly".

Finally she stops at a door and walks inside, leaving you in the dark hallway. You feel shivers run along your spine, the unnatural silence getting to your nerves. You are not sure if those whispers you hear is the wind hitting against the windows or a figment of your imagination. Sooner than you expected she comes back with fresh clothes and a towel. She roughly dries you off and hands you the clothes. "Dry yourself then get changed and come back to the living room. We wouldn't want you to get sick would we?".

She hands you the candlestick then walks away, heading to the living room once again. "Wait!" you call out to her, "Don't you need this?" you ask, gesturing to the candlestick. "Don't worry" she says "I can see in the dark just fine".

"Besides, you'll need it more than me" her voice gets lost inside the house's hallways, stopping abruptly. You enter inside the room she just came out of and change yourself quickly, trying to pay no mind to your crippling fear. When you come back down she's in the living room, resting on one of the armchairs. "About time you came down" she gestures to a chair she put beside the fire. "Sit down, dry yourself by the fire".

You sink on the armchair, feeling the warmth of the fire on your skin. "Have you eaten?" she asks, standing up and moving to walk to the kitchen. "I haven't" you hear rustling from the other room and she comes back minutes later with some cookies and hot tea. "I don't have anything else, I'm sorry" you just smile in return, not making any comment. You spend the evening chatting, listening to the story of her life and telling her yours. By the time the fire needs to be fed again, you fell asleep. You are so deep in your dreams that you fail to hear the scraping of a chair begin moving against the floor. As autumn and winter come, it's been harder and harder getting anything under her teeth. The storms are too strong, the snow too heavy and nothing that is alive walks those hills. She has been waiting a long time for this. She can already taste blood on her tongue, swirling inside of her mouth. From behind the chair she stands above you, bending over to reach for your neck. With one hand she supports your head while the other tightens on your shoulder. It looks so inviting, she thinks and bares her teeth, getting ready to bite down.

Just as she's about to sink her teeth in, you wake up. "R-Rhiannon? What's going on?" as if her skin was burnt, she quickly retreats. "I am sorry to have woken you up. I just wanted to tell you that I have a spare bedroom for you to sleep in. "You just hum groggily, "Actually, I'd rather sleep here by the fire. If that's okay with you?".

She tries to shove her anger down her throat, biting her lip. "Sure, rest well" she smiles and with that, disappears into the shadows.

The morning after you hear Rhiannon walk down the stairs, her steps heavy against the steps. "Good morning, have you slept well?" you just hum in response, stroking the sleep out of your eyes. "Has the storm passed?". Rhiannon looks outside to see rain pouring down and obscuring the windows, "Not yet. It's best if you stay here a bit more " you notice she's putting on a coat, and ask her "Are you going out?" .

"I need to buy some food if you stay here" she opens the door, letting the cold wind speed inside, "Don't steal any of my things! I'll know".

That last part sounded more threatening than you'd like, but you just wave at her goodbye and wait for the door to be closed again. As soon as you see her figure disappearing into the trees, you scour the mansion. You explore, study its hallways, search for any incriminating things that may pinpoint if she's indeed the target of your search. "A monster, that woman is" the priest had told you, "a leech. Your kind surely knows how to handle them".

A 'leech', a vampire. It was hard to believe that woman was one of them, but there was something to her that you knew was wrong. Curse the fact that you fell asleep yesterday's evening, who knows if she let a side of her sleep out of her control while you were sleeping. You search but don't find anything, only books containing her family's history. Before Rhiannon comes back, you make sure to hide the tools you had hid in your clothes in one of the corners of the house, in the first room Rhiannon had gone into. You hear the door open downstairs. "Shit!" you hide the stake in a closet underneath a pile of old clothes, before hurrying downstairs.

"Exploring much?" you hear Rhiannon ask you from the kitchen and you draw in a sharp breath, "Uhm, yeah sorry about it". "There's nothing to be sorry about. This place is big, it's best if you know it's halls". She has bought many things: meat, vegetables, bread and some sweets. "For today's afternoon snacks" she says, noticing at how you're eyeing the cookies, "Just a little treat for my sweet guest". You heat up a bit hearing how she called you. 'Sweet'. That is a good compliment, but slightly creepy coming from a suspected vampire.

You spend the afternoon watching the rain fall down, chatting and reading from Rhiannon's stash of books. "The storm seems to never stop" you mutter into your hand, watching the pools of water getting more and more full by the second. "You are unlucky. During this time of the year here, it always rains or snows". Great, you're trapped here with a stranger who presumably is a vampire with no way out.

"Oh, I get it".

As the days go on, the storm doesn't stop. With the rain falling down more and more harshly, Rhiannon becomes more and more furious. She lashes out at you out of the blue, inconsistently. You try to not let her words affect you because you know that they hold no real meaning behind them.  You have noticed how she becomes paler by the day, and despite consuming an alarming amount of meat, barely cooked, she looks like a starving woman.

"I'll go to my study" she tells you, putting on a smile which you know it's just a fake to hide her distress.

"Don't follow me" it's all she says before disappearing into the manor's shadows. You move behind her, as quiet as a mouse, following her through the maze that is her home. Hallway after hallway, turn after turn you move inside the house, trying to keep up with her pace. Since you've been following her, it seems she has begun to move faster and faster, unnaturally.

The chase has been going on for so long that you think she's testing you, secretly just moving in circles to drive you mad. She stops abruptly in front of a door and enters the room, leaving the door open and the opportunity for you to quietly sneak behind.

You steal a glance at the room, sizing it up: dark, bigger than you'd thought, no escape other than the door.

Rhiannon is leaning on a desk covered in books and lit candles, mumbling something under her breath, distracted. If she truly is a vampire, this is the right moment to strike.

You grip the stake in your hand, shaking, a trickle of sweat falling from your brow. Every step you take is meticulously calculated, not one bit heavier than needed, not one second faster. You stalk, moving closer to your target, so close that you can taste the smell of her perfume on your tongue. Inadvertently, your attention is caught by a corner of the room. You notice how just that corner's stones have been painted sloppily, like whoever painted just gave up and left it to dry. It was coloured with the most deep red you've ever seen, beautifully haunting. A shame it seemed to start blackening under time's passage, forming clumps in the cracks between the bricks, following down to a stain on the floor.

You can vaguely make out the shape left by something that had been left there for a while, bloody hand prints tinting the gray stones.

"You are too slow, hunter" your blood runs cold and in an instant your body is slammed against one of the walls. Rhiannon is above you in mere seconds, gripping at your wrists with an inhuman strength. You can't make out her face, shrouded in darkness, but you can hear her breath, heavy and slow.

"Rhiannon! Let me go!" you struggle against her, trying to slip away from her grip. She grabs your stake and throws it away, "Why should I do that baby? You were the one that put yourself into this" she descends on you, breathing on your neck slowly, savoring the smell of your fear.

"Snooping around my stuff, spying on me..." you feel a cold sensation spread on your neck when you see her teeth bared, reflecting the candle lights.

'No... I want to live!' you use all your strength to kick her in the stomach, making her fall on the floor with a groan. You grab the stake and move to face her, ready for her next move.

"I thought you might be different!" you yell, readying your body for combat, "But you're just another blood sucking fiend!".

A bone chilling chuckle echoes in the dark, its owner's face made of shadows. "Just another blood sucking fiend? Oh baby" she delivers a strong blow to your chest, making the air escape from your lungs. Another blow on your jugular and you're falling on the floor, momentarily incapacitated.

She pushes you with her boot, holding you firmly between its sole and the floor.

"I am not just another blood sucking fiend. I have noticed how you look at me" she slowly descends down on you, stroking at your arms, silently admiring the strength behind them. "How you steal glances at me when you think I'm not looking" she squeezes one of your biceps with her hand, then twists the skin painfully, making a trickle of blood escape your veins.

"I bet you've thought about it for a long time" her hands reach for your neck and the stake. "How you've dreamt of taking me by the neck, sinking that thing you call a weapon in me, watching life fleet from me", the sexual innuendo is not lost to you and it makes heat travel up your body.

The stake is broken into billions of pieces in her hand, splinters falling on your face and in her flesh, faint traces of blood coloring her hand.

"But it didn't go as you planned, did it? Now you are the hunted one, and I will enjoy eating you alive".

She starts to kiss down on your jaw, taking time to take care of every patch of skin before her. "W-what are you doing?" she doesn't answer, too focused on traveling beyond the nape of your neck.

"You are enjoying this, aren't you?" her smirk is to die for, making you want to strip away your pride and just let her take you already. "As if" you mutter, trying to act cool, but the facade is broken as you feel her press teasingly against your crotch.

"Let's see about that" in a moment, your pants are stripped away, leaving you bare in front of your predator. "As far as I know about this, you're enjoying it way too much".

As she sinks her fingers deeply inside of you, she comes back up, leaning in to kiss you. Lips clash against one another, teeth bare and biting at the skin. She pushes her tongue past your lips, savoring every single one of your tastes. Meanwhile, her fingers speed up, hitting that spot inside of you that makes stars bloom behind your eyelids.

"Rhiannon!" you gasp, hugging her shoulders close to you. Her face is scrunched, focusing on the rhythm of her fingers plunging inside of you. You want her to talk to you, to tell you how good you've been for her, or how naughty you were. Rhiannon rolls her hips in the air, trying to mimic the feeling of trusting inside of you.

"You know what, my dear hunter?" she moves so that her hips rest against her hand, moving them in time with her trusts. "I think you don't put yourself in other's shoes enough", her breath fanning over your skin.

"Let me help" and as you reach your peak, she bites down on you, hard, drawing blood. She drinks from you, red blood tainting her lips. Her tongue pursues your blood, swirling it inside her mouth, savoring every single one of your tastes.

She sighs contentedly, feeling euphoric after finally feeding. "See, it wasn't so bad, was it?" she gives you a deadly smile. You notice how her blood is dripping from her wrist, almost seeping into your wound. Cold fear blooms in your chest, the reality of your situation setting in. She laughs, "Relax, love" letting go of your wrist.

"I'd love to turn you, but I'd much rather keep your blood warm for a little bit" you feel your heart sink, suddenly much more aware of the situation you are in. "Don't worry dear, it won't happen unless you ask me to" she stands up and brings you up with her, hugging your body close. "Come on, lover" she inhales your scent deeply, licking over the wound she gave you, "let's take this somewhere more comfortable".

[pisscreant]

just found that Kim saw the Hanged Man in his dreams. super unsettling.

[moeblob]

Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.

Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.

[triglycercule]

horror's jacket fluff has probably accumulated so much DISGUSTINGNESS over 7 years in it that it's managed to acquire it's own signature Dog Smell (TM). however i think this would be a prime opportunity to pet him and then get some of that disgusting smell on you because for some reasons Dog Smell is just unavoidable when you pet a dog with a lot of hair

he'd hate it but awww awww whos a good boy (ﾉ´∀｀*) whos a good boy (*≧∪≦) YOU ARE!!! awww so cute you didn't commit all those murders against innocent people you were innocent (￣▽￣)／ such a good boy!!!! (gets beheaded) (he got too embarrassed)

[koka-mi]

choking on flowers by fox academy...wowzers.....

[scourgethewhorehog]

(stands on my soap box) some of you seem to not understand that horror involves being Horrified and sometimes as a result horrible things will occur and it doesn't mean the creator of that horror media is like secretly a murderer sex predator who wants to eat babies they are writing fucking horror

[ctl-yuejie]

pride month is definitely for baking brownies

wasn’t really vibing with the date (he was sweet but had nothing to say about himself and also nothing he wanted to know about me), started going south when he went into the bushes to relieve himself and wouldn’t understand that i didn’t want to touch his hands afterwards

tried to be polite when turning him down (we were walking towards his house) but then he started insisting we would try this and if it is sth that creeps me out it is a guy not accepting a no. also turns out he lied about his age.

said he was 25 when he’s 32. he thought i was 22. i like to belief that it is reasonable of me to question him for hitting on a “22″ year old saying he’s 25 when he is indeed 32.

[cheekblush]

just woke up from a horrible dream about my chemistry final tomorrow 😭

[waywardsalt]

Hi! I hope you’re doing good in life! So it’s spooky season so I have an ask related to that. I don’t know if you play horror video games, watch horror movies/shows, or read horror books, but if you do, I have to ask: What is the most disturbing book, or video game or show/movie that you’ve played/watched/read? In my opinion, there is two types of horror: the ones that scare you, and the ones that traumatize you. If you can think of any book, movie, or game that really kind of fucked you up, I’m curious to know if you feel like answering. I hope you have a good day and a good life.

Hey, I’m doing good and I hope you are too!

the answer ended up being really long lol

Woof, this is honestly a pretty hard question, since I can't really name any horror (or otherwise) media that actually left me kind of fucked up for a bit, at least not to the degree where it affected me for a while. I probably haven't been really fucked up by anything since I was a kid, so I'll try and recall what a few things fucked me up back then...

Off the top of my head I know that two different spongebob episodes got me bad, the first being one with that tunnel of love thing (tho tbh i havent seen it in a while so it might still spook me today) and the one where i'm pretty sure for whatever reason squidward gets locked in some small locker and has some kind of fucked up dream, whatever that was. I remember there was an eagle in that one. the eagle terrified me. (i looked them up, and the first episode is titled 'tunnel of glove' and the second is 'squidward in clarinetland'. with how badly that second one got to me, i'm surprised i ended up learning to play the clarinet at all)

other than that, i think the courage the cowardly dog episode 'the house of discontent' got me pretty bad, too, but i think everyone who saw any amount of that series as a kid has at least one episode that got them fucked up.

there's probably a handful of scooby-doo stuff that got to me when i was a kid, but i could not name any specifics (asides from charlie the robot's original episode, christ) because i think i managed to see just about every bit of available scooby media around that time.

nowadays stuff still does kinda fuck me up, but it's usually only for brief bits of time. the most recent example I can think of is cowboy bebop's 20's episode, pierrot le fou, which is honestly some great horror, especially how it uses the show's typical format and flips it on it's head, but i wouldn't necessarily say it got to me because of it being scary, more because of the way the ending disturbed me for a bit. it was the only episode that had me stop afterwards and really look into it for anything other than clarifying a character's gender, lol.

the endings of both neon genesis evangelion and end of evangelion had me shaken, the latter more so than the former, but not really due to horror aspects, though. i did have to take a walk after finishing end of evangelion. i don't really watch horror movies, i just... read the wikipedia plot descriptions of them.

honestly, i think some of the more popular youtube analogue horror series have gotten to me worse (likely due to the fact that they can get a bit more fucked up than, say, a tv show or movie), specifically the walten files (which i did watch) and the mandela catalogue (which i just watched wendigoon's vids on), and those two and mostly because facial distortion is generally just an incredibly effective form of horror imo. a lot of the time (esp with the childhood examples) the way i was 'fucked up' was that id be in be visualizing the stuff that scared me, and both the mandela catalogue and the walten files had me doing that for a bit.

now that i remember it, i was really scared of fnaf when it first came out. i first learned of it second-hand from seeing some other kids looking into it, and the bits and pieces i put together about it really scared me.

honestly, it's usually straight-up disturbing sequences or imagery that gets to me the most, and i know my limits well enough to generally identify and avoid that stuff, which is probably why i don't have too many recent examples. i've got one or two examples of non-horror movies that fucked me up as a kid, but that's mostly because they were wildly inappropriate for someone of my age (at the time) to be witnessing, so that's a different sort of topic.

i mean, i think i generally have a decent tolerance for fucked up stuff in media, anyways, i mean, i enjoy berserk and haven't really been too upset or disturbed by what happens in it (look theres some nasty shit in there im not saying its not that bad) so there's definitionally some kind of line that media needs to cross to really get to me nowadays, or it just needs to be a specific kind of fucked up. books generally don't do that for me so i don't have any book examples. no games, either, though shadow mario and the haunted house segments in super mario 3d world scared me so much that i had to make my mom do the levels for me, and i'm pretty sure scooby doo: first frights scared me a bit when i first played it on ds.

other than that, though, I just think that, in pokemon x, the story that an npc tells you during your first trip to route 14 and then the strange office building encounter with the animation-less hex maniac creeped me out pretty bad.

yeah, it's kind of hard for me to think of anything (recent) that actually really fucked me up or anything. most stuff just scared me, never really fucked me up or figuratively traumatized me in recent years.

[jabeur]

can't sleep