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justaaveragereader · 8 months

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Slashtober 🔪|| Invisible Man Hongjoong

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Choking, MeanDom!Hongjoong, Pussy Slapping, Man Handling, Degradation, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, Name Calling (Whore, Slut..), Stomach Bulge, Rough Sex, Mirror Sex, Consensual Sex, If I Missed Anything.. Let Me Know…👀!

A/N: They are all slashers so all of them are going to be boarder lining mean doms Or just mean doms🤪😁.

Slashtober Masterlist

NSFW UNDER CUT🔞 MDNI!!!

The first new neighbor was Kim Hongjoong, devilish eyes, sharp nose, and pristine clean man. With a huge moving truck across the street you couldn’t help but get curious as to who was moving in. You quickly made way to introduce yourself, wanting to befriend the hot, and hopefully single male. He was out on his lawn instructing the movers where to place his boxes in his home. With arms full of water bottles you stood by the curb.

“Hello! I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I saw you were new to the neighborhood. I just wanted to stop over and introduce myself, and also offer some water as I see you all are working ha-..”

He turned around to look at you and you trailed off into your sentence, mind completely blanking by his visuals. He was even hotter up close.

“Why hello!” His voice was higher than you expected yet it was still so attractive like the rest of him. From that day forward. Anytime you saw him outside you went out of your way to greet Hongjoong, you learned he had no wife, no kids, he owned the home he was living in. You never saw anyone leave in or out, so you assumed he had no girlfriend either. He did leave at odd times of the night, sometimes not returning til late a.m. you had assumed his job as an artist made him have odd hours.

As more neighbors started to pile into the neighborhood the weirder things got, you noticed no matter how many times you closed your bedroom window, it was always left open a crack. Strange white residue would be left on your mirror. Certain clothing items would be missing. Yet you never felt the need to investigate what went on. Blaming it on your lack of caffeine, along with your lack of sleep. One night you had awoken to the buttons to your night shirt popping open slowly, your eyes literally watching them undo themselves. Too stunned to move you watch the last button pop. The creaking of your mattress falls upon your deaf ears, stunned by the sight in front of you. Nothing. Absolutely nothing is there, nothing you can see, nothing you can make out. Nothing. Your heavy breathing is the only sound heard, besides the late night crickets making noise out your cracked window. The cool autumn breeze blows through, causing you to shiver.

The indentation on your bed should’ve clicked in your head but when you looked forward at the mirror all you saw was yourself panting and out of breath. Deciding it was best you lay back down, forcing yourself to go to sleep. If this was a dream you were definitely not going to entertain it any longer.

As morning came your window was still yet cracked, the room now cold with the autumn air, and your bed messily tossed around. Looking out of your window, you see him once again. Raking the leaves on his lawn, Kim Hongjoong. While you stand and gawk at him it never registers in your mind that your night shirt is completely unbuttoned, your bra just completely out for everyone to see. It’s almost like he senses you looking at him. Turning from the leaves he looks up at you, shooting you a toothy grin, waving his one nail manicured hand at you. You smile back, clearly dumbstruck at his warm smile. The breeze of air flows in, blowing your shirt back, the nipply feeling in your skin causes you to look down, embarrassment creeping up at your neck, when you look up, Hongjoong isn’t there. The pile of leaves are scattered, no signs of every being raked. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you step away from the window. Proceeding to get ready, as you walk to your bathroom you notice that weird white residue on the lower half of the mirror, letting out a huff you start your normal routine of getting items to clean the mirror, while struggling to find an outfit for the day.

It was always at night time when things got weird for you. The window always cracked open at night, your pajamas would randomly be off. You were convinced you truly were going insane. That was till everything snowballed one night. Those light touches turned into firm grasps, your airways would at times become cut off like something was blocking them. Your cunt would ache like it had just got rammed the night prior. Yet you always woke up with a chipper attitude, a small limp in your walk but a bright, relieved smile nonetheless. Tonight was no different, you heard the window crack, not even bothering to turn over, you remained still. Trying to level your breathing out as you feel the cool air invade your warm space. The small creaks of your floorboards can be heard. Suddenly a cold object touches your ankle, causing your body to flinch. Your leg shoots close to your chest, eyes open wide trying to make out whatever was in the dark. You saw absolutely nothing, were you truly losing your mind? Had you gone off the deep end?

“What are you..?” You whisper out quietly, you hear the bed creak as if something sat on it, yet you are on high alert with fear it doesn’t register in your mind. You feel an object touch your shoulder pushing you down harshly. Your body submits easily, you’ve done this same song and dance numerous times. Yet this was always the thrilling part, the part where you would try to piece together what or who was doing this. A high pitched laugh can be heard through the room, causing your body to attempt to sit up just to be pushed back down.

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to you slut.” A voice suddenly speaks out, you feel your legs shift open the bed dipping with each movement. A cool sensation runs up and down your warm fleshy thighs. You let out a small whimper, so easily submitting yourself to whatever it was that was making you walk like your legs were two over cooked noodles in the morning.

“You like this don’t you? Needy whore.” Hongjoong pushes his thumb down on your clit through your pajama pants, he’s been doing this so long with you he knows your body, and what it likes. He knows it so well, he can be deprived of all senses and he’d still know how to work your body. You let out a small moan, cocking your legs open more. Morals tossed aside for something you continuously thought was a dream. His thumb rubbing small circles amongst your clit, drawing our small noises from you. You were always so pretty when you made those sweet noises for him. Drawing his hand away from your cunt, he gets more comfortable between your legs. The lack of feeling him for a split second has you whining instantly. Bringing his hand down to your clothed pussy he gives it a slap. Causing your body to jerk up from the sudden action. If only you could see how his eyes darkened when he saw how well you responded to that action, waking up an inner demon in him.

“You want me to keep going? You’ll spread your legs for anything that crawls into this room huh.” He cackles out, mind now fueled with one thing, and one thing only. He was going to completely ruin your pretty ass, and he was going to make sure if you even had the ability to get up and walk the next day, you’d be walking with a limp. The noises that continue to leave your throat as he man handles you, pulling you to sit up so he can swiftly unbutton your shirt. He’s tossing you around like you are nothing more than a flesh light that he is lubing up getting ready to use.

Pulling you to the floor, your night shirt rides up your back, as your shirt is completely unbuttoned your bra is on display once again for whatever is pulling you down. Dragging you in front of the mirror, panting with nerves due to not being able to see what was dragging you around effortlessly. Crushing your thighs together you are wound up from all the touching on the bed. Whatever is in the room with you. You feel its warm breath on your ear, causing your nails to dig into your thigh. Gripping your face he causes you to look into the mirror, you already look fucked out. Your face is slick with what you think is saliva, shirt hanging off of your shoulders faint bruising littered across your chest. You suddenly feel cool hands on your lower half, watching with full attention in the mirror you see your pajama shorts get pulled down slowly. Revealing your embarrassingly wet panties that are clinging to your folds. A warm breath hits your ear.

“Look at you, disgusting slut. You get this wet for just anybody?” A high pitched voice with a rough undertone speaks out into your ear. Your legs are spread open more. A hand grips your scalp tightly, cocking your head back. You look up at nothing, a high pitched chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine makes your blood curdle, but your lower stomach flips.

“I should fuck you with in a inch of your life you pathetic whore. Look at you, so fucked out for me and I haven’t even stuck my cock in you.” Letting go of your scalp, he pushes you on your stomach, snatching your night shirt off you, unhooking your bra so your breast fall free. A humming noise is heard behind you, Hongjoong grips his hard cock through his suit, not that you could see any of his movements. Pushing a thumb on your clothed clit hearing the soft squelching noise of your panties being squashed between your moist lower lips. You let out a small moan, not wanting to give whatever it was the satisfaction of hearing your moans. You feel a heavy weight slap your ass, knowing you will have a welt on your cheek in the morning. Letting out a choked out moan your body shivers from the impact.

“Look in the mirror, whore. Look at yourself, pussy dripping for something you can’t even see. Are you always this easy?” He hisses out, gripping the back of your neck, bringing his lips down to your ear, the sweet scented breath engulfing your senses.

“Answer me!” He growls out into your ear, your eyes rolling back at the glimpse you catch in the mirror, your body angled in such a way yet it was just you in the mirror. You choke out a sob through your moan. His hand coming down to slap your ass, jiggling your ass cheek in his hand. Mounerving your body so when you are face first to the mirror. Hiking your hips up so your back arches, pulling you panties down behind your knees. The cool autumn air hits your hot core. Causing you to let out a small gasp. His hand wraps around your throat making you collide with his broad chest. Back curved, breast on display, panties pulled down to behind your knees.

“Pitiful slut, how many others have you had in this wet cunt of yours?” Letting his thumb roll around on your clit, you bite your lip trying your best to remain conscious as to what is going on around you. His hand swiftly comes down giving your pussy a slap. Causing your body to jerk forward, you would've fallen forward if it wasn’t for Hongjoongs tight hold on your throat. Gripping his hand tighter blocking your oxygen off, the way he’s flicking his fingers on your clit though, you could care less how your body is being deprived of oxygen. Your hands fly to try to grab the invisible figure as your vision starts getting blurry, yet the way an orgasm is coursing through your veins you should care more but the feeling of fear is what pushes you over the edge. Letting out a choked out cry, your toes curl. Taking in a big breath of air, while Hongjoong still rubs slow circles over your pulsing clit. You flounder around on the floor trying to run from the invisible hand that you cannot see. His strong hand grips your hips keeping you in place.

“There are plenty of pathetic whores I could waste my time on, yet I’m here with you. Be a good girl and give me another one.” He grits into your ear, causing you to let out a whimper, gripping the small patch of carpet in front of your mirror, you glimpse up, seeing your back perfectly arched, you can see an indentation of a hand print of your ass cheek. Causing your mouth to moisten, you were drooling. Were you truly a sight to see. Letting out a choked on sob. You start pleading.

“Please please please..” you cry out, brain completely dried of any thoughts. He wanted you to cum again, yet you were begging for it. His hand comes down to slap your cunt. Your body lurching forward. His hand wrapping around your throat again, pulling you back to his chest, his firm grip on your throat was destined to leave a mark. His grip tightening with each breath you take.

“Be a good slut and spread your lips open.” He grits into your ear, tightening his hand slightly. Brain on autopilot you spread your mouth open slightly. His hand cracking down on your ass cheek, making you jolt in his firm grasp.

“You going dumb already on me slut? Spread those pussy lips for me, otherwise I will make sure your pathetic ass doesn’t cum again.” Tone the lowest it’s been since he’s been in the room. Bringing your hand down to your sopping cunt you spread your lips open. Your fingers glistening with your slick. His hand tightens even more causing you to let out a choked on whimper.

“Look at yourself…” the hand that is wrapped around your throat jerks your head up, your body is flush with sweat, your fingers holding open your slick lips, eyes glazed over. You looked like eight days of blissful rain. His hand comes down to smack your spread open cunt. Causing your body to arch further into his grasp. Your fingers lip away from holding your lips open. His hand jerks your neck back, so you are flush against his body.

“Hold them lips open baby, if you don’t it’ll only get worse from here.” He whispers into your ear. Nibbling on your earlobe. Nodding in his tight grasp you move to open your lips back up, slick fingers making a quiet squelching noise. His hand comes back down to slap your cunt.

“Start counting slut. If you count like a good girl I will make it worth your while baby girl.” He grunts, digging his hard cock into your naked ass cheek. Bringing his hand down, slapping your cunt once more.

“O-one..” you stutter out.

“Wrong!” Bringing his hand down faster, smacking your cunt a little harder than last time.

“How many times did I smack your wet little cunt before this?” He says tilting your face up with his index finger that is tightly laced around your throat giving it a small squeeze. Shutting your eyes, your body shivers with neediness.

“Twice! Twice!” You choke out, tears streaming down your face.

“Please…plea-se.” You hiccup out.

“Please fuck me.” Your fingers still spreading your glistening cunt open, juices running down your inner thighs. Letting out a growl at your begging he lets go of your throat, shoving your head into the carpet, placing a hand onto your back, arching you even further. You feel a weight on your back, his body covers your own.

“Only because you beg so pretty.” He unzips a small section of his suit, letting his cock spring free, the way you are bent in the mirror you aren’t able to see the flesh of his cock. You still see nothing. Tapping his cock against your slick folds, he rubs his head over your puffy, red clit. Letting out a mockingly coo at you. Sliding his heavy cock in between your folds slickening himself up before sliding in, causing you to let out a loud moan. Your hands instantly gripping the plush carpet beneath you. Grabbing one of your hips, while keeping a hand on your lower back so you are perfectly arched. He lets out a hissing noise.

“Fuuuckkkk…” Hongjoong groans out, trying his best not to blow his load already. Your tight walls were strangling his cock. How was he supposed to last long? Gripping your neck he pulls you flush against him. He had to make this fast.

“Look at yourself baby, go ahead and look at yourself.” He grits into your ear, driving his hips up, you instantly let out a mewl. Picking your head up you look at yourself, stomach slightly bulged at the bottom, thick print of a cock in your stomach. Juices everywhere, drool on the side of your face, yeah, you definitely had a great night.

He slides out slightly before, placing a hand on your waist, bouncing your overly stimulated body on his cock. Your cunt grips him even tighter. His breathing getting heavier, your pussy felt like heaven. If he had to keep you locked up for his keepings best believe he would. Your loud screams can be easily heard from outside, Hongjoong did leave the window cracked open for them all to hear.

Slowing his hips down, as he pulls his cock slightly out, he pulls your body up, and slams you back down slowly. Making sure you feel every bulging vein drag through your warm wet walls. You can feel him pulsing in your cunt. You should be ashamed that you are getting off on God knows what but they way they are fucking you, you could care less. You are drooling over your breasts, you look in the mirror, seeing yourself being held up.

Shoving you to the floor, making sure when you lay face down all you get is a eye sight of your body being fucked. Sliding back in he lets out a groan. Slamming his hips back into you. Gripping the top of your ass cheeks to stabilize himself, so he can fuck you harder. He’s fucking you so good and so hard you can’t even feel the rug burn that’s beginning to set in on your knees. Your ass bounces off his suit, coating it in a shiny slick, the wet smacking noise is consistent with his thrusts.

“Fuck me! Oh my god…fuck me!” You shout your orgasm starting to creep up faster than you would like. Hunching his body over yours, he grabs a handful of your boob, his body weight on your neck feels delicious. His warm breath in your ear.

“I’m fucking you good aren’t I slut?” He grits out, cock still ramming into your squelching hole. You cry out, to what ever was fucking, warning them that you were close. Both hands come up to wrap around your throat, applying light pressure, causing your back to arch off the ground slightly, you can see your ass ricochet off of what is behind you. He’s holding you like he’s going to choke the life force out of you. Like you are nothing but dumb delicious putty in his hands. You can hear grunting filling the room over the wet skin smacking.

“You looking at yourself get fucked stupid slut?” He grits out, speeding up his hips resulting in your body to jolt forward with each thrust. Tears pour down your face, along with saliva. You truly were being fucked stupid. Biting his lip to prolong his orgasm, he tightens his hold on your throat, cutting your airways off. Your eyes roll back from the pleasure, cumming instantaneously. Your mouth drops open, drool pours out onto the plush rug beneath you. Hongjoongs hips speed up, his hands dropping from your throat, rag dolling your tightened cunt onto his heavy cock. Slamming his hips up once more he pulls out, shooting his load onto the mirror. Marking his territory, making sure you knew someone or something was there making you feel that good. Your head hits your rug immediately, passing out from your intense orgasms leaving Hongjoong to clean you up. Unzipping his suit slightly so he can let his sweaty skin breathe. He takes some of his dripping cum from the mirror and smears it across your puffy folds.

Marking you in as many ways as possible. Lifting you from the rug, he places you on your mattress. Tossing your clothes close to the side of your bed. Getting you comfortable on the bed, with no aftercare. He cracks open your window, zipping up the rest of his suit. Shimming his way back down the side of your house. Making sure to leave your window open just a crack.

The bright sun shining directly into your eye awakens you. As you crack open your eyes you are met with the sound of Hongjoong raking his leaves once more. Your body feels like it has been hit by a bus. Sitting up, limping your way to the bathroom, you don’t even care to think about why your clothes are off…last night was just a fever dream…right? Staring into your bathroom mirror, your lips perk up at the markings on your body..surely you aren’t crazy..? Whatever was here surely did a number on you, yet you couldn’t think of anything but the need for whatever it was to come back. Showering the stench of sweat off your body, you get dressed, and limp your way to where Hongjoong was raking leaves, from the corner of his eye he can see you limping. Trying to bite back his greedy smile, he turns around, acting startled at your appearance.

“Good Morning Neighbor!” He greets cheerfully.

You smile at him, rubbing your hands together, tugging your turtle neck up slightly to cover the markings on your neck.

“Good Morning Hongjoong! You are at it early this morning, aren’t you?”

He smiles at you briefly, internally he is boasting with joy, a shit eating grin being held back.

“I had a good night's rest last night, I feel really rejuvenated so I thought why not come out here and start the lawn early! How did you sleep? Restful, I hope?” He drops an octave at the last sentence, your body immediately littering with goosebumps. You smile at him telling him you slept all too well. Hopefully you will be able to sleep that well again. He tosses you a brief smile. Wrapping up the convo you bid him well, limping your way back to your house.

“Y/n! A good girl like you should always sleep well..” He calls out in a low tone. Your body immediately stops in your tracks. Turning around to look at Hongjoong who was nowhere to be seen. Looking around you see nothing, not even the pile of leaves he was raking together. Maybe the neighborhood was beginning to play tricks on you.

GIF by @justaaveragereader

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#slashtober 2023 #slasher!ateez #slasher ateez #Ateez smut #dom! hongjoong smut #dom!ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #kim hongjoong x reader

1K notes · View notes

nevernonline · 8 months

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✧.* change my mind; kmg

you were an enigma. mingyu knew you to be not afraid of anything, except for falling in love.

✩ pairing: mingyu x afab! reader

✩ genre/s: fwb! to lovers, fluff,

✩ word count: 2.0k

✩ warning/s: mentions of partying, swearing, suggestive themes, oral, punches, mingyu takes a tumble, kissing, reader has breasts, mingyu is down bad.

✩ notes/s: inspired by she's not afraid by one direction, lolol. enjoy! ☘️

Mingyu just couldn’t figure you out, for the first time in two years of knowing you he saw fear in your eyes all because he whispered three little words to you.

He had heard all of your childhood and teenage crazy stories about making fake ids, bungee jumping, traveling all around the world during your gap year. He knows you can watch scary movies and often fall asleep to serial killer documentaries, but why wouldn’t you let him love you?

The first time he said it, he was just protecting you or so he thought from an ex-boyfriend who showed up to the party you were attending, trying to pick a fight and begging you to take him back. Mingyu showed up to your side without a shadow of a doubt he would scare the boy away, but you just punched your ex square in the face as he called you a bitch and walked off like nothing had happened.

After the punch you just rode in the car back to your house without saying a word. He was holding your now bruised hand softly resting a bottle of cold water across your knuckles.

When you made it back inside your adrenaline kicked in and you started to strip Mingyu of his clothes all the way down to his black boxer-briefs below. He was basically an outlet for you to get out your rage over your shitty ex-boyfriend, but he didn’t mind being used by you.

Maybe he said it at the wrong moment? A girl going down on you isn’t exactly the time to tell her that you’re in love with her. He thought maybe you didn’t hear him or misunderstood because you were focused on satisfying the craving of having him be putty in your hands, so he never brought it up again. Well, except when he finished all over your pretty face.

The second time he said it, it was a cold winter day. You both decided it would be a good idea to go snowboarding. You were taking Mingyu up the ski lift for his first pass down the mountain, your eyes were filled with sparkles from the reflection of the snow, he couldn’t forget how pretty it made you look. Your pink nose and rosy cheeks were just begging for him to plant kisses on.

You told Mingyu to go to the far left trail, the easiest and to not turn before the big pine tree, but he was so distracted by looking at you he did exactly the opposite of what you said and took a swerve right onto the black diamond.

You ended up going the right way, watching his body attempt to swerve over the bumps and fresh powdered ground through the trees. Until you couldn’t see him anymore. A panic suddenly waved over both of you not being able to help him if something went wrong in the woods. The train was much quicker down the hill and the small skinny weaving through trees made him vulnerable if he fell to being hit by other boarders or skiers.

You finally hit the bottom and clicked your board off trekking back up the hill by foot.

Nearly halfway down you spotted a bright yellow and black coat huddled to the side of the tree brush and ran over to him. He seemed okay, but was clearly shaken up by almost getting hit by other riders.

“Oh my god. You’re such an idiot, I thought you were hurt. Did you not hear my instructions”

“I did, but I was distracted watching you on the lift so I forgot.”

“Mingyu, you dumbass. I wouldn't have forgiven myself if something happened to you.”

Your fingers touched the small cut on his cheek probably from his goggles or a loose branch. You brought your arms so tightly around his shoulders that he whimpered because of his now sore body.

After picking up his gear that had been scattered around from his fall, you helped him back onto his feet and insisted that you bring him home to have a warm bath and clean up his new wound.

Sitting in the bathtub, bruises scattered all the way around his tanned skin, he watched you set up a movie on your computer. You were surprisingly caring, he didn’t think you had a side to you like this.

The both of you sat in his candle lit bathroom, him in the hot water of his tub and you in his tee shirt on his marbled floor, both sipping glasses of red wine, just enjoying the scenes playing out in front of you.

Suddenly his hands came onto your shoulders, rubbing them in motions that relaxed your tense muscles.

“You look cold, come in.”

“No, you’re too tall for two people to fit in your bathtub, Gyu.”

“You’re small enough to fit, come on.”

“Okay, don’t look.”

“I’ve seen you naked before.”

“Just, please don’t look, for some reason getting into the tub infront of you is embarrassing me.”

“Okay, I won't.”

With his hands now placed over his eyes, he felt your legs slide against his, and felt you tap against his side with your feet, telling him it’s fine now.

“No, not like that. Turn around, back towards me.”

“Mingyu, this is silly, I'm comfortable.”

“Do it or I’ll make you.”

“Oh my god fine, cover your eyes.”

Your butt slid back into the hot water, now resting between his legs. You could feel your cheeks starting to hear up as you rest your bare back against his chest.

“Better?”

“Mhm, much better.”

Mingyu’s hands came up and grabbed your hair, wrapping it up in the claw clip you had resting on the floor and began massaging your neck once more, placing soft kisses on your shoulders. Mingyu now slid his long fingers over your nipples, making your head rest back against him and letting out a soft moan from your lips.

“Thank you for taking care of me today, it means a lot to me.”

“Well it’s sort of my fault you got hurt isn’t it?”

“No, not at all actually. I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted by how pretty you are.”

“Shut up.”

“Not happening, pretty girls have to be told every once and a while they’re pretty.”

“Okay, what about pretty boys?”

“Mhm, they deserve it too.”

“Well then, I think you’re very pretty.”

“Thank you, I love hearing you say that.”

Time passed that night between being sweet in the tub to now huddling in front of Mingyu’s fireplace, still wrapped in each other's arms, clinging to his warmth.

“Are you ready for bed, y/n?”

You were already asleep in his arms, suddenly those same arms were picking you up off the floor and placing you under his warm covers, sliding in next to you.

With a kiss on your forehead, you woke up still half in your slumber and placed a longer kiss on his lips.

“Goodnight, pretty Gyu.”

Mingyu couldn’t contain his smile as he looked at your eyes closed while resting on his pillow.

“Goodnight, pretty girl. I love you.”

Mingyu couldn’t help himself from realizing he was saying the thing he wanted so badly in the worst moments, but maybe it was a sign he was saving himself from being hurt if you didn’t love him back.

After the night you had over a week ago where he muttered those words the second time he made a promise to himself that the next time he said it, it would be worth it.

Mingyu knew tonight was to tell you properly, you were on your way to celebrate a mutual friend's birthday.

He pulled up to your house, letting himself inside. He found you standing in your bra and underwear in front of your closet contemplating what to wear. The theme was black and red, you had a little black dress, a red low cut tank top, and a pair of black cargo pants laid out on your bed, weighing the options.

“Holy shit. You scared the fuck out of me.”

Mingyu tried to hold in his laughter as he rested his butt on the side of your bed, holding up the red top and black pants, similar to the outfit he was sporting.

“Wear this, it’s nice. And you always complain when you wear dresses.”

“You’re right, but what shoes do I wear? Black heels, sneakers, or boots?”

“I like the boots I bought you last year, they’d look pretty under the jeans. And you can be closer to my lips when you get drunk and try to kiss me later. Easier access.”

“Shut up, you’re so gross. I do not do that.”

“Well, your clingy drunk ass says otherwise.”

You ripped the red shirt from his hands and pulled it over your head swiftly as you took your bra off from under it and shimmied into your black pants.

“Okay, well let’s bet. I’ll wear my sneakers, if I try to kiss you and complain that you’re too tall I’ll reward you with whatever you want”

“Alright, but prepare to be crushed.”

Hours passed by at the party, as your buzz grew stronger like your desire to have your red lipstick stained all over Mingyu. He was off talking to some girl at the bar, trying to order you drinks. You were sitting all the way across the room at your table watching her as she rubbed her pink fingernails up and down his arm, while he just smiled.

Was he trying to make you jealous on purpose so you’d come over and kiss him? Did he even care that this girl was flirting with him because he was there with you? Who knows what he’s thinking. Before he departed she placed a small kiss on his cheek and handed him a napkin, probably with her number on it.

“Who the fuck was she?”

Your jealousy brought a small smile on Mingyu’s lips as he slid onto the black vinyl of the booth back next to you, hitting your knees with his.

“Jealous?”

“No, just answer the question. She got her ugly pink lipgloss on your cheek.”

The lip stain that was supposed to be from you, the green monster of your jealousy weighing over you now as you brought your thumb to the spot she kissed him and wiped it away a little aggressively.

“Not sure, she gave me her number though.”

He flashed the napkin in front of your face, making you even more angry.

“Call her, I’m going home okay?”

“No, why are you leaving? I don’t want to call her I was just fucking with you.”

“Will you stop then?”

“Of course, just tell me what's up with you tonight? You’re acting weird, girls do that all the time, you’ve never cared before in fact most of the time you think it’s funny. I thought you knew I didn’t want any of them, so it didn’t bother you?”

“Well it is bothering me now, she was touching you and she kissed you. Most girls just hand it and go on their way, but this was like right in my face? Does she not see us here together?”

“Maybe? But, we’re not together like that are we? I’ve told you many times I love you and you always ignore me.”

“I don’t know? I do love you, okay? I love you, Mingyu. I’m also terrified of loving you, because if I fucking lose you I’m not going to be okay. If I have to sit around and watch girls have their hands on you forever like that I just am not sure if I’ll be able to handle myself.”

“You love me?”

“Yes, you big dumb idiot. Can’t you fucking tell?”

“No, but it’s nice to hear you finally say it.”

“Can we leave now please? I think I need to show you how much I love you at home.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Mingyu took you home, back to the place where he first realized he loved you and let you prove it to him all night.

630 notes · View notes

loveshotzz · 2 years

Text

There’s a place for me

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Chapter 1/?

Summary: On the run for wrongful murder charges, Eddie finds himself stopping in a sleepy ocean side town far enough from Hawkins where he can lay low for awhile. Running from the people that want him dead, his only hope is that his past doesn’t catch up to him. Especially when he meets the pretty eye’d waitress up the street.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: slow burn, angst (Eddie hates himself for running) eventual smut, strangers to lovers. My blog is 18 plus.

A/N: this concept was sent as a request by my irl friend @elthreetimes and as soon as I read it, there was no way it could just be a one shot. It needed to be a series. I feel so lucky that you trust me to bring this story to life, and I hope you enjoy this. Also I couldn’t have done this without my hellfire crew @myobmaya @boomhauer @subparwritersuperbreblogger @sweetsweetjellybean for bouncing ideas and characterizations with me. I seriously couldn’t have written this with out you guys. This is the most ambitious story I’ve ever tried, so here goes nothing. Also bonus points for anyone who guess’s who which character Ron is based off of.

*comments, likes, and reblogs would mean so much if you enjoy my work 💘

For days it felt like all Eddie did was drive, the passage of state signs was his only measurement of time. The hours blending together like the lines on the highway, tangerine skies bleeding vermillion the colors remind him of Chrissy eyes after they exploded inside her head. The beauty of it all being taken away as the image of her crumpled body replays over and over in his mind. With no destination he was driving on auto pilot, only deciding where he was going the third night in.

Hair dripping from the storm outside, his fingers feel bruised from switching out his plates for the third time. Sitting in the back of his van tucked away on the side of a dirt road somewhere in West Virginia, it was the first time in his life he was thankful his dad had taught him a thing or two about evading the law. Stripping off his wet jacket he knew he needed to find somewhere to go. He couldn’t keep driving aimlessly, he didn’t have the money for that. The only cash he had was whatever he’d gotten from his deals earlier in the week, thankful he didn’t spend it on the re up that was suppose to happen the night before everything changed.

He’d never seen the ocean, an elusive place he could only visit in his dreams. Stopped on the boarder between West Virginia and Pennsylvania he wasn’t that far from the east coast. Using his lighter to illuminate the road map he’d found stashed in a messy wad in his glove box he guessed it was maybe a 10 hour drive from the coast. Throwing the idea of sleep out the window with wet clothes making it impossible for him to get comfortable he decided to do what he’s done this whole time, drive.

Watching the early morning sun slowly seep into through the storm clouds the grey sky fades to a more comforting cerulean. Eddie drove with the kind of determination that he wish he’d used to pass high school. Maybe he wouldn’t even be in this mess if he’d just graduated when he was suppose to. Convincing himself he would have been long gone playing guitar in any city that wasn’t Hawkins, he lets himself wallow in self pity till his tires bring him to the ocean.

——

Finding his way into a nameless town that wasn’t even listed on his map, it made Hawkins look like New York City. A small strip set on top a broken battered road - he swerves to miss the never ending onslaught of pot holes. The few shops they had were attached to a single grocery store, the sides of the buildings eroding away from the misted wind. Snorting to himself - of course this is where he ends up, a beach side ghost town. Eddie catches the Help Wanted sign hanging in the window of the diner that lay nestled at the end. Sticking out from the rest, the way it’s lit almost makes it look like it glowing against it’s drab surroundings. It was also the only place he’d seen with any sign of human life.

The lights of The Sleepy Hill motel greet him like the four seasons, when his tired van pulls into the mostly empty lot. The flashing vacancy sign is a promise of a bed, his bones worn down and sore the weight of everything finally kicking in. When his dirty white Reebok’s hit the ground his arms reach for the sky in a kitten stretch of his whole body, eyes closing he relishes in the pops he feels in his spine.

Inhaling a deep breath the salt in the air stings his nose, the mist off the shore making his bangs stick to his forehead. Pulling a runway strand of hair from his cheek he finally takes everything in. On one side of him there was nothing but an endless expanse of tumultuous waves raging against the shore line. The storm clouds he had out run were making their way back through, the lingering bitterness of winter still hanging thick in the March air. It wasn’t like the kind of warmness he’d seen on the postcards, or the in the stories that Rick told, this wasn’t Venice Beach. The sight of a light house in the distance brings a slight feeling of comfort when he watches the strobes of light break through the purple hues of the darkness starting to set in over the horizon. Eyes lingering he lets himself sit in it for awhile watching the waves crash into the broken brick holding it up from falling into whatever laid in the water beneath it. When he turns his attention back to the town that took him less then a minute to drive through, the red “EAT HERE” sign that spun on top of the diner mocks his stomach when he realizes it had been almost a whole day with out any real food.

Slamming his car door shut, he takes quick strides to the back making a mental note to drive to the next town over at some point tomorrow to switch out his plates again, it was too risky to try to do it with any car in a town like this. Eyes darting nervously he opens his back doors with shudder that rings out over the sound of the waves. Furrowing his brows in concentration he starts digging though the blankets in the back searching for the outfit he’d found balled up a few nights ago. Forgotten about after a sleep over at Gareth’s, the memory of a time where his life wasn’t like this hurts in a way that he can’t explain. Maybe he wasn’t as miserable as he thought he was — all the little things he took for granted now at the forefront of his mind.

He hadn’t let himself think about Wayne. Maybe it was the adrenaline that kept his mind from going there, or that thing he’d heard about when your own mind blacks things out to protect you, but he hadn’t thought about what that must’ve been like for him to come home to that.

A life less mangled girl he didn’t know and a nephew that no one was going to find. Eddie just ran without a single thought as to what that would mean for him. Scowling to himself he blames the Munson blood that runs through his veins. Images of his Uncle slumped over with tired shoulders, shuffling into the trailer in the early morning hours when the sun is just peaking through the trees. Boots heavy from another double at work, walking right into the nightmare that Eddie left him with.

Eye’s burning he holds back his tears grabbing the balled up shirt and jeans giving them a sniff. They didn’t smell clean but they smelt better then what he was wearing now and that was just going to have to do. Fingers crossed the motel clerk would let him rent a room with out an ID, he was desperate for a shower. Shoving the garments into his backpack he takes another deep breath ignoring the sting this time, closing his eyes he fights away all the emotions that are ready to spill out. Clearing his throat he cracks his neck before slamming the metal doors shut.

Half way across the pavement Eddie stops in his tracks when he see’s the guy behind the counter. Not much older then him there was something oddly familiar about him, when he glances up catching Eddie in his line of sight. Shaggy brown hair parted down the middle and big teeth protruding from below his upper lip, his beady eyes squint as he tries to figure out what Eddie was doing. The sound of a distant boat horn is what makes his feet finally move again, the boy behind the counter standing up as Eddie closes the distance.

There’s a small chime when the glass door swings open, the warmth of the lobby heats him in a way he hadn’t realized he missed until its hits his skin. There’s an awkwardness that hangs thick in the air when the door closes behind him. Eddie hadn’t talked to another living soul in days besides mumbling the amount of cash and on what pump at gas stations. The man behind the desk who’s name tag said ‘Ron’ was staring at him like he was trying to pin point something familiar about the metal head, and it was making Eddie’s palms sweat. The anxiety of being caught tightening in his chest. Scratching the back of his neck he clears his throat.

“Hi — hey, man I’m uhh- I’m looking to get a room?” He tries to hide how startled he is at his own voice having not heard it in hours.

Ron’s silence doesn’t break much to his dismay as he takes in Eddie’s appearance. Dark eyes trail over his disheveled form before flicking back towards his van in the parking lot. It wasn’t just his palms that were sweating now.

“What’s your deal? You some kinda rockstar or something?” Ron finally breaks his silence, stunned it takes Eddie a minute to comprehend what exactly he’s being asked. When he finally wraps his head around the question he has to actively stop the snort that threatens to come out.

Looking down at his wrinkled hellfire shirt, the cotton is stained with a mixture of dirt and grime from the nights in his van. The whites of his Reebok’s barely visible under the dried up mud from last nights storm. Having caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of the door on his way in, he knew his wild mane looked like a bird had laid nest in it.

“Excuse me, what?”

Ron sucks his teeth shrugging.

“You just look like that Van Halen guy, but there’s no way you’d be here if you were actually him I’d reckon.” He says matter of factly before sitting back down in his desk. “And he wouldn’t look like he just rolled around in a pigs play pin. Or maybe he would? I don’t know the life style of a celebrity.” He adds with a wave of his hand.

Stunned and completely unsure of how to respond to the man in front of him, the conversation was not going a direction Eddie had even seen coming. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, he finally finds his voice again.

“Yeah, not Eddie Van Halen. My name is Eddie though, Eddie umm Henderson.” He winces internally when Dustin’s last name leaves his mouth.

“Eddie Henderson? That’s not very rock and roll.” Ron tuts before looking up at Eddie from his computer.

Feeling his frustration start to reach it’s tipping point, his fists clench at his sides before they release. Running a hand over his face he exhales sharply through his nose mustering up enough self control to answer politely.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Eddie pointedly looks at his name tag before adding with a curt smile. “Ron.”

Arching a brow, the man at the front desk brings his attention back to the computer screen with a hum. The awkwardness from before becomes almost suffocating in the small room. The growing silence between them lasting long enough that Eddie starts to panic.

“Look man, I’m just trying to get a room for a few nights then I’ll be out of your hair okay? I’m not some rockstar who’s gonna trash the place. I’m a nobody.”

Eyes never leaving the screen the sound of the mouse clicking is the only noise filling the space.

“Got an I.D. Eddie Henderson?” Ron’s tone is flat when finally looks up at eddie through the hood of his lashes, his own irritation clear on his blemished face.

The question he knew was coming still stiffens his body when it leaves his mouth, but the thought of another night sprawled out on the damp blankets on the metal floor of his van is enough for the burning sensation of tears to sting his tired eyes again. Shuffling on his feet, he readjusts his backpack.

“I’ve got cash, I can pay for at least two days up front.” Stepping closer to the desk his fingers drum against the counter top nervously, doe eyes pleading to show him a shred of mercy.

“No, I.D. No ro—“

Digging the 200 of the 250 he had left from his pocket, he slaps it on the desk in a crumpled lump. His survival instincts kicking in with a new level of stubbornness he didn’t know he had. He wasn’t leaving until he had keys to a bed and a shower.

“Please, man. I’m begging you.” The tears that had been threatening fall finally breach his strong hold, a single droplet landing onto his bottom lashes. He wipes it away quickly with the back of his hand, sniffing he closes his eyes collecting himself again. “I’ll keep to myself, you won’t even know I’m here.”

Ron’s eyes soften at the desperation is Eddie’s voice, despite policy there was something sincere about the mysterious stranger standing in front of him.

“200 will get you three nights.” Reaching over the counter he grabs the crumbled up bills before standing up, turning to the wall of keys behind him.

Relief floods his body as he watches Ron’s fingers skim over the glistening metal dangling from the dark blue wall. Blinking back tears the tense muscles in his shoulders release some of the stress they’d been carrying for the last 700 miles.

“Room 10, it’s at the very end. No parties rockstar.” Handing over the single key, it hung from a round burgundy keychain, a faded gold 10 stamped onto the plastic. Eddie can’t help but actually laugh this time, his mood lifted for a fleeting moment.

“Seriously, thank you. You won’t regret this I promise.” Snatching the key before he had a chance to change his mind, he clasps both hands together in front of his face bowing slightly in appreciation.

“There’s free coffee in here every morning. If you bring your key to the diner up the road you get a ten percent discount. We don’t have laundry but there’s a laundromat next to the grocery store, it’s open weird hours you’ll have to check the sign.” Ron prattles on, his voice becoming more professional now that Eddie was a paying guest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Walking backwards Eddie kicks the door open, the chill in the air sending a shiver down his spine.

“Nice to meet you Eddie Henderson.”

—

The walls of the motel room match the ones in the front office, the sapphire paint chipping at the edges of the ivory trim. The single bed in the middle was covered in a crimson duvet, two fluffed pillows propped against the black head board tempting him enough that he almost throws the idea of a shower and food out the window. Toeing off his shoes, the socks that should be a crisp white are the color of ash and it reminds him just how dirty he really is. Dropping his bag on the floor he starts peeling off his clothes making his way to wash off the last 72 hours.

A satisfied groan falls from between his chapped lips when the heat of the water hits his skin. Tilting his head back he lets it run through his thick tangled waves, pooling at his feet the water is tinged brown. Turning he faces the stream with closed eyes letting it wash over his face as he tries to find peace in his thoughts. The fear seeing Chrissy suspended in the air every time he closed his eyes was what prevented him from the sleep his strained body needed.

After spending longer then he should wrapped up in the warmth of the shower, he can’t ignore the growling in his stomach, remembering the discount at the diner he forces himself out.

The cheap blow dryer makes his hair frizz with more volume then he was used to, holding it down with both hands on either side of his head he sighs exasperated when he lets it go and it bounces back with more force.

Whatever, he didn’t know anyone here and he wasn’t going to be around long.

Changing into his cleaner clothes, he pats down his jeans feeling something in his back pocket. Reaching behind him his fingers come in contact with the thin plastic foiling of a crumpled half full pack of cigarettes he’d left in a drunk mess one night.

“Fuck. Yes.” He mutters to himself feeling a little more like a person rather then just a passenger in his own body for the first time in the last three days.

Grabbing his jacket off the bed nimble fingers search for his lighter once the leather is wrapped around his shoulders. Smirking when he finds it, he heads for the door grabbing his key off the off the dresser. Turning around before he leaves he takes one good look at his new home for the next few days. It wasn’t much but it was better then hiding off on the side roads begging to get caught.

——

The rocks crunch under his feet as he walks up the wounded asphalt towards the diner, the mist in the air taming the poof in his hair as he struggles to get the cigarette lit. The hint of tobacco on his tongue teasing him as the gust off the shore snuffs out the flame every single time.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” dangling in his lips he stops for a second to switch positions so his back was facing the direction of the wind. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Grumbling he snatches it out of his mouth in a huff before shoving it back in his pocket. Keeping his hands dug in into his jacket his face is set in a hard glare as he hits the parking lot of the diner. The inside gleams brightly and it’s the stark contrast to the dark moody-ness of his thoughts and the outside.

There’s families gathered in the windows laughing in the warmth of the light and he does his best to ignore the pang in his chest. Shoving down the realization of just how alone he really is now, he wasn’t ready to mentally unpack that yet.

Opening the single glass door of the entrance, the sound of the oldies station plays under the low hum of everyone’s chatter. Red vinyl covering the seats, a row of booths line the outside, the white walls barely visible decorated, covering almost every inch in various collectibles. The long bar attached to the kitchen extends down the length of the restaurant lined with stools.

Unlike the booths, the bar was filled with truckers and waderers. Hunched over their food alone in their thoughts. Taking a seat where he belonged the chain of his wallet clinks loudly against the metal of the stool.

The menu was already laid out on the formica counter top, just a page long the corners of the lamination are creased after obvious years of use. His eyes strain to read the red words that pop out against the white of the paper, the sleepless nights slowly catching up to his body. He tries pulling it further from his face to get a better look completely unaware of the pair of eyes watching him.

“Need some help with the menu?” A melodious voice breaks his concentration. Looking for the owner he comes face to face with you.

Almost as if someone knocked the wind out of him the softness of your features stuns him enough that he can’t find his voice. The dress you wear as a uniform wraps tightly around your curves and he fights his eyes from wandering. Hand on the counter in front of him you lean into his space, the smell of maple syrup hits his nose — sickly sweet he wants nothing more then to close his eyes and bask in it. Your warm gaze lands on his face and it feels like he’s looking up at the bright sun on a summer day. You didn’t look like you belonged here.

Realizing he hadn’t answered you, he clears his throat trying to shake his nerves. He was never good at talking to girls, especially not girls that looked like you and definitely not under these circumstances.

“You’re new around here.” You grin eyeing the slightly disheveled boy in front of you.

“Do you have burgers?” Blurting out his question he closes his eyes embarrassed when he realizes he’s ignored your observation too caught up to think straight. “Sorry.”

Laughing sweetly you take the menu from his hands finger tips brushing against his, the connection making his cheeks blossom pink.

“Sure do, how do you want it?” Pulling out your pocket sized note book from your apron, his eyes catch the red of your nail polish and for some reason it makes his cheeks deepen to match.

“Medium is —uh, is fine.” Scratching the back of his neck he watches the way your pen swoops gracefully against the paper.

“Fries okay?” Looking up at him from under your lashes his breath hitches loud enough for you to hear, the reaction making you bite your lip in a smile.

“Yeah, fries are, fries are great.” Exhaling loudly he gives you a tight lipped smile wishing he could bury his head in the sand.

“Anything to drink?” Ripping the page you turn around slipping it through the small window of the kitchen behind you. The line cook grabs it with a curt nod before you bring the full force of your stare back to him.

“Water is fine.” The sentence is short but he gets it out with out a hitch at least. Rubbing his hands nervously on his thighs he catches the mischievous glint dance around your eyes.

A small knowing smirk plays on your lips before walking away to the drink station at the other end of the long bar.

“Real fucking smooth.” Eddie grumbles to himself catching the attention of the trucker seated next to him.

“If that makes you feel any better son, I think she thought it was cute.” The gruffness of his voice reminds him of his Uncle, the few moments with you had made him almost forget about why he was here in the first place. Guilt slowly starting to eat away at him as he tries to re focus his thoughts, the familiar sting coming back to his eyes.

Before Eddie has a chance to respond your sliding the glass in front of him, eyes never leaving his as you pull out a straw from your front pocket. This time he’s strong enough to hold your gaze even if the red on his cheeks spreads to his neck.

“It’ll be like 15 minutes, Freddy’s pretty quick.” Nodding back towards the kitchen, Eddie tries to listen to you but he’s too focused on the sheen of your lip gloss. A sharp elbow to his side snaps him out of his trance, his new friend trying to help him out.

“Oh— okay, thanks.” Dropping his eyes down he brings all of his attention to unwrapping his straw, silently scolding himself for being even less smooth then the first interaction. The only reason he knows you’ve walked away is the loss of sweetness that settles in the air in your presence.

Shoving the straw in his drink, the ice clinks loudly against the glass before taking a big gulp. When the water washes over his tongue in a wave of rejuvenation, he closes his eyes humming in satisfaction sucking more then half the glass down before pushing it away with a wipe of his mouth. He can feel what the needed hydration does for him in his finger tips, his brain function starting to sharpen.

Chocolate eyes finding you again, he watches the way you move around the restaurant with ease. Everything you were doing seemed second nature, bending down to meet the kids at eye level he watched the families stare up at you with the same adoration on their faces. It wasn’t just him you effected like that, it was every one.

Cleaning off one of the booths, he watches you bend over the table — selfishly letting his eyes wander your body in the way he’d fought off before. Expertly stacking the dirty plates in your arms, you shove the cash tip they’d left in your apron. Turning on your heel you catch his stare, stopping for a brief moment before your lips tug up in a way that makes him avert his gaze — but even he knew it was too late. He’d been caught.

Closing his eyes when you walk by he inhales deeply, chasing the comfort your scent brings. You smelt like Sunday mornings with his mom, the only childhood memories he was fond of. He watched as you disappeared through the double doors of the kitchen, loud voices greeting you once you were hidden in the back. It was obvious you’d been here for awhile. The urge to try and piece together your story is a welcoming distraction from his own.

You aren’t back there long before you push back through with a toothy grin, shaking your head in amusement. An irrational hint of jealousy settles deep in his gut at whoever was making you laugh like that. The high pitch ding of the kitchen bell brings his attention back to the small window, a burger and fries so warm he could see the steam coming off the bun sit waiting for you to collect. Brain going empty he can feel himself start to salivate, his hunger taking front and center in his mind now.

Too focused on his food he has better self control of his eyes when you go to grab it. Sliding the plate in front of him Eddie mumbles a thank you before snatching the burger, ignoring the way it heats under his finger tips.

Taking a giant bite he immediately opens his mouth at the shock of the burn, his initial reaction to spit it out is stopped when he looks up to see you watching him with crossed arms as you lean against the back counter.

“I would have told you to give it a minute, but I thought that was obvious.” Teasing him, Eddie fans his open mouth searching for reprieve only swallowing it when the pain subsides. Taste buds inflamed and seared he takes another gulp of water basking in the way it soothes his mouth.

“Sorry, I haven’t really eaten all day.” Grabbing a fry he dunks it into the small ceramic cup filled with ketchup before tossing it into his mouth. Curious eyes land on yours making him wonder what’s keeping your attention as he eats with out manners.

“So, what are you running from?” Choking on his food at your question his eyes go wide, maybe the news had made it’s way over here.

“W-what do you mean?” Swallowing loudly his appetite suddenly disappears.

“I mean, I’ve never seen you before. People either move here to run from something or they’re just passing through.” You shrug as if your question was nonchalant. “So are you a runner or a wanderer?”

“What are you?” Eddie counters back arching a brow before taking another sip of water.

The smirk you give him is almost devilish when you push yourself off the counter invading his space again. The smell he can’t get enough of swirling around him in a dizzying effect.

“I’m a runner.” There’s something hidden behind your eyes that he can’t decipher when you give him your answer unashamed. “I told you mine, it’s your turn now.”

Of course you weren’t from here, how could you be?

“Runner.” He says simply already nervous he shared too much. Averting his eyes he plops another fry in his mouth before he remembers that this 15 dollar meal was gonna put a significant hole in his remaining funds.

Looking back up from his food he sees you’re already half way down the bar walking he hasn’t even asked you about the Now Hiring sign dangling from the window.

“Hey! — I mean wait.” Eddie’s outburst catches you and half the diners attention and despite his embarrassment he doesn’t miss the way your lips curve up when you make your way back to him.

“Yes?” Raising your eyebrows in question you plant both hands on the counter top in front of him leaning forward a stance that keeps his Eddie swimming.

“I saw your help wanted sign in the window.” Clearing his throat for more confidence “How would a runner apply for said job?”

“You haven’t even told me your name, and you don’t even know what we’re hiring for.” All valid points leave your mouth and he nods with a scratch of his head.

“It’s Eddie, Eddie Henderson.” He said it once and now he just has to roll with it, he’ll apologize to Dustin if he ever sees him again. “I’m not picky, I’ll do anything. Just in desperate need for some cash.”

“Well Eddie Henderson, I guess that means you’re planning on staying here long enough to get work huh?” Tongue poking the side of your cheek he can tell there’s ideas bouncing around in your head.

“Yeah, for a little bit.” Eddie didn’t want to tell you that his time here was numbered in the single digits or that he needed the work so he wouldn’t become completely homeless in the next few days while he ran from the law.

Blowing out a loud breath, you drum your hands on the counter before turning around towards the white board behind you with various names and schedules scribbled on it. He wondered which was you. Grabbing an application from the stack that was pinned on the board you turn back around around pulling a pen from your pocket. Clicking it open you set it down for him to fill out.

Eddie wastes no time in scribbling out his fake information, chest swelling with excitement. He didn’t think it would be this easy and despite your stare making him nervous he could feel his own smile pull at his lips just for a moment.

“I’m just gonna need an ID to show my boss.”

The sentence leaves your mouth and Eddie wants to fucking scream, his grip on the pen becoming so hard he was close to snapping it in half. It was an issue at the motel why wouldn’t be an issue here? It’s not like he didn’t have one, it just had all of his real information on it. Information that had the potential to get him caught.

“I- I don’t have one.” It’s quiet when it leaves his mouth voice shaking and defeated. Meeting your eyes again he notices how they soften as if you could read his mind.

“You moved to a new town without any ID?” You question is gentle when it comes out watching the way his shoulders slump. The first smile you’d seen grace his handsome features slowly fading away.

“I’m afraid I can’t give this to him with out some kind of proof as to who you are.” It’s lame when it comes out of your mouth and you wish it could be different when you watch his big doe eyes glass over.

“It’s fine, I’ll figure something out. I appreciate the help none the less.” Eddie gives slight nod pushing the application away, his brain already starting to reel with no back up plan lined up. He feels fucking stupid.

Unsure how to comfort the cute mysterious stranger you shove your pen back in your pocket giving him your most apologetic look. The air shifting into something that felt like you should give him privacy— you walk away as he digs for his wallet.

Throwing a twenty on the table, he’s too embarrassed to even ask for the discount. He takes one last big bite of his burger before goes to stand up, the sudden urge to sleep becoming over powering with the hope a better idea would come to him tomorrow.

“Hey, actually.” Your honeyed voice drips through his very obvious despair.

Stopping him before he had a chance to leave, Eddie’s chestnut eyes meet yours in question.

Biting at your bottom lip, he can tell your nervous to ask him whatever was bouncing around in your head.

“Do you know anything about cars?” The thought of your late grandmothers car sitting motionless in your drive way comes to mind and how desperate you were for a pair of working wheels.

“I mean I’m no mechanic, but I can do the basics.” He offers back with a shrug.

“Good enough for me, I live by the beach not far from the motel down the road, it’s a shitty yellow house you can’t miss it. I’ve got a car you can come look at tomorrow, if you think you can fix it I’ll hire you myself.” Eddie doesn’t know why you’re being so nice to him but he’s not going to turn you down the offer. Even if he can’t fix it, he sure as shit was going to figure out how.

“Alright, sure yeah, I’ll come by.” Trying to contain his excitement the smile you’d already missed comes creeping back to his face.

“Perfect, I’ll see you around 10? I’ve gotta work at 4 so that should be plenty of time for you to come take a look yeah?” Not wanting to tease that six hours is plenty of time to do a normal check up on a car he just nods instead.

“I’ll be there at 10.” With a nod of his head and the first genuine smile on his face in days, he pushes back out into the developing storm.

——

Head swirling with the events of the day the cheap motel bed moans under his weight as he stares up at the water marks on the ceiling tile. The feathers of the pillows underneath him bring back the heaviness of his eyelids as all the muscles in his body finally relax. The fear of sleep slowly slipping to the back of his mind when the softness of your smile replays on a loop behind closed eyes.

——-

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If I missed anyone please let me know!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson series #eddie munson slow burn #joseph quinn

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angelbeastmadman · 5 months

Text

Done

Finnick Odair x Reader

summary: Upon arriving in District 13 you get a strange sense of dejavu but you refuse to relive the past here.

warnings: none

The flight to 13 had been eventful to say the least. Between Katniss’ (attempted) attack on Haymitch and Finnick passing out not long after, you hadn’t had time to catch your breath.

Every single second in the arena had felt like hours. You hadn’t slept and could barely stand to eat. All of your energy went to watching Finnick as he did the same with you.

It was purely selfish on your part. When Plutarch had come to you both about a rebel plan to get a selection of the victors, including the ever so important Mockingjay, out of the arena, you knew then and there you had to do everything in your power to keep Finnick safe until the calvary arrived.

It hadn’t been easy either. Not with poisonous fog or vicious monkey mutts or the rest of the tributes who were in the dark on the entire plan. Honestly, it wasn’t all that surprising that once things had calmed down with Katniss, and after being rescued from three days of non-stop adrenaline, Finnick had quite literally shut down, finally succumbing to the stress on his body.

At first, you lost your ever loving shit. Did he have an injury you didn’t know about? Did the district 13 soldiers on the hovercraft do something to him after you were lifted from the arena? It wasn’t until after Haymitch stepped in that you realized your fiancé was breathing perfectly normal and there was no blood or anything to suggest injury. But you couldn’t help it. For years you had watched the Capitol and Snow abuse him. It was impossible not to be overprotective and overreactive. He was everything to you.

The real problems came, though, once you landed in 13. Immediately, soldiers acting as guards separated you from Finnick and when you fought back with every ounce of willpower you had left in your exhausted body they only stood their ground. At some point you could remember hearing Haymitch drop some very choice words to them before heading in the direction you’d seen them take Finnick. You screamed for what must have been a full hour before you were finally graced with the presence of one Alma Coin.

“I was told you wanted to see me.” She narrowed her eyes in a way that reminded you eerily of Snow when he wanted something from you. She was seated at a cold, metal table while you were standing and yet you couldn’t help but physically feel the difference in power.

“No.” You said plainly, not breaking eye contact. “I wanted to see Finnick.”

“He’s being evaluated.” She stated simply. “We need to be sure he’s ready to begin training immediately and your presence will hinder that assessment.”

“Training?”

“He is a solider now.” Coin looked at you as if you’d gone dumb. You should’ve known. After years of working for the Capitol, Finnick as the their darling and you as a spy for Snow, you’d traded one prison for another. “Of course, I didn’t expect you to take on combative duty, you aren’t much of a fighter yourself. But Finnick will do well in District 13’s defenses.”

Years of abuse and fear and chains both literal and metaphorical rushed you and you snapped.

“Finnick will not be a solider for you.” Your voice had gone cold, dark and a little authoritarian. It made Coin blink although she hid her surprise well. You’d have missed it if you hadn’t acquired an affinity for reading people in the Capitol. She probably expected you to yell, become hysterical. But she hadn’t prepared for stone cold determination. “We have spent years serving tyrants and I’ll be damned if we continue here. We risked our lives to save your Mockingjay. Finnick was poisoned by fog, I took a bite from a mutt, we were boarder line electrocuted.”

“And we appreciate your dedication to the cause-”

“My only dedication is to Finnick.” You cut off her weak attempts at regaining the power at the shift in the room. “And you’ve decided to keep him barred away from me.”

“You make it sound like you’re prisoners here.” She says in an attempt at redirecting you.

“Aren’t we?” It’s a challenge and based on the subtle shift of her jaw you can tell she heard it. “You obviously need us, or rather, the information we both have, so let me tell you how this is going to go. You’re going to allow me to see my fiancé, you’re going to let us both recover from our taxing experience protecting your Mockingjay in peace and you’re not going to even breathe a word of sending Finnick into battle again. We’ve both done our parts for your revolution, it’s your turn to do something productive.”

After your tangent you feel dizzy. Despite your time in the Capitol, confrontation wasn’t your strong suit. That’s why you were a spy and not a solider. The only other time you had ever challenged authority was when you and Finnick had started getting closer after your games and you learned about what Snow made him do. You’d demanded he release Finnick from his duties in the Capitol in exchange for your services as his own personal spy. Luckily, the president had seen your skills in your games and how you hid from every tribute, taking them out from locations so hidden that even the game markers sometimes had difficulty finding you without looking for your tracker on the monitor.

But you couldn’t help it. This was Finnick. This was years of being used and abused and feeling unsafe at every moment. You’d be damned if you continued to live under the thumb of another person any longer.

Coin must have weighted her options in the time it took you to stop everything in your vision from vibrating because she gave one definitive nod. “Deal.” You schooled your features despite the shock you felt. “If you both provide me with the information on everything and everyone we need and agree to film a few pieces of propaganda exposing the Capitol’s abuse of its victors, then I suppose Finnick can be dismissed from combative duties.”

You were weary of Coin, but she had called in a few of her most important people and sworn to the agreement in front of them. You could tell, though, that she was a little bitter about it because she made a point of saying how she had plenty of better fighters to take Finnick’s place.

Without any further struggle you were being led throughout the hospital wing to him. You had to wonder if Coin ever really expected you and Finnick to agree to fighting for her or if your challenge of authority was too inconvenient and she simply needed it to go away more than she needed Finnick to be a solider. Either way you sent a prayer to whoever was listening and fought the urge to rush past the soldier escorting you and find Finnick yourself.

Once you turned a few more corners it wasn’t hard to pinpoint where he was exactly. You could hear him shouting all the way down the hall. The tone in his voice must have conveyed danger because a second later a nurse came flying from the room and towards your escort. “He wants to see her. He’s becoming escalated.”

You didn’t waste any time ducking around the soldier who was now trying to calm the anxious nurse. You weren’t too surprised with how worked up she was, you had learned your scary, dark voice from Finnick himself.

“Finnick!” You shouted, finally pushing through the door of his room. His head snapped up at the sound and you threw yourself in his arms where he sat on the edge of the bed. He immediately dropped the rope he was working, which had been given to him by Haymitch when he woke up in a panic over not seeing you immediately. He’d knotted it so many times in the last hour you’d been trying to get back to him that it was already fraying at the edges.

His arms trapped you to him as your hands carded through his hair. “Didn’t see you when I woke up.” He mumbled into your neck, the wetness on your exposed skin betraying the few tears he couldn’t keep at bay. You couldn’t blame him, just like when he’d passed out, his body was finally catching up to the stress of the past days.

“They separated me from you.” You sighed, never stopping your hands from their calming motions. “I talked to President Coin, I can tell you about it later, but I’m not leaving your side again.”

Finnick tightened his hold on your waist. “Good.” He pulled back just enough to look at your face and it almost broke you. His panic was still evident in his features and you smoothed out all the worry lines with your fingers. “Are we done?”

You knew what he meant. Are we done fighting? Are we done running? Are we done sacrificing?

“Yeah, Finn.” You felt the first tear since a break down you’d had at the announcement of the Quarter Quell roll down your cheek and off your chin. “We’re done.”

He brushed a few strands of hair back from your face. “Don’t cry, honey.” He said despite the wetness of his own eyes and he tugged you onto the bed with him. Your head barely had time to settle onto his chest before you yourself gave into exhaustion.

#finnick odair #finnick x you #finnick imagine #the hunger games #hunger games #fanfic #fanfiction

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liliansun · 6 months

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OUR LAST KISS : 18 : pick up the pieces

wc : 0.9k : warnings : get the tissues

after everyone decided that a game of rock paper scissors would be best to choose who would pick between cleaning up inside or outside, they all sighed with no surprise that neowa beat everyone. she fortunately made it even, having six of the boys clean inside and chose the lucky lover boy of the evening to help the girls clean up outside. since the fire was still going, it helped them all stay fairly warm while they did their part.

“there’s not much left if you girls want to go head and get cleaned up for the night.” jaemin’s voice caught all of their attention, making four out of the five smile with knowing grins on their faces. “i can stay back and help you finish so it’ll be done quicker.” mal suggested, feeling the stares of her friends. “alright, you too stay warm.” sal said with a smile as she, joy and neowa head for the door to join the rest.

the two continued to pick up the trash in silence, stuffing it into the designated bags that they had set up to make the process easier. “so how’s your project going?” mal wasn’t sure what caused her to spark conversation, seeing how she hasn’t been talkative with him for most of the first day of the trip. jaemin put something into a bag, brushing his hands as he stood up straight and looked her way. “it’s going, my partner has a busy schedule so we meet whenever we can to get it done faster.” jealousy bloomed in mal’s chest, a sour feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

“i bet she’s only meeting with you so much because she likes you.” the words fall out of her mouth before she has time to comprehend what she said. jaemin’s expression, that was one joyful, turned into something boarder line of confusion. “where did that come from?” he takes this moment to sit in a chair that was near the still warm fire. she sighs, noticing his halt on their progress and opts to take the seat next to him. “dunno, just thought a pretty girl would get your attention.”

he’s leaning forward, propped up on his elbows as they rest against his legs while looking over at her. “you already have, princess.” the sweetness of his tone doesn’t take away the feeling she has, the thoughts of him with another girl who she’s never met yet, but can already tell likes him more than she hoped. “don’t mess around, you know what i’m talking about.”

“then tell me what you’re talking about.” she scoffs, bringing her hands to her face and rubs them against her skin. “c’mon jaem, you know as well as i do that you’re gonna fall for her the second she bats her eyes at you.”

“why do you do this?”

the question threw mal off, unable to look him in the eye so she instead stares at the fire that’s starting to dim in light. “every time we make progress, you push me away and every time i try to get close to you, you throw up your walls.” the truth hurts and mal was feeling the weight of it all, because he wasn’t wrong. “this wasn’t about me.” she mumbled, fiddling with her sleeve as the tries to direct his attention from her. “then what is it about?”

“mal, i keep putting myself out there for you, being patient with your back and forth emotions when it comes to what we are and what we could be, but i can’t keep giving my heart to you if you’re not gonna take it.”

his words hurt her deeply, feeling the tears swell in her eyes. she didn’t know what to say, whether she should apologize and hope that he’d still want her. there was another part of her that was scared to get hurt, even if she knew he’d never purposely hurt her, but she couldn’t take the risk in it either. the gamble in her mind went on and on as the two sat in silence. jaemin was staring at her, noticing the two streams rolling down her cheeks.

“maybe you shouldn’t wait on me then.”

those were the words he didn’t want to hear, those exact words were the ones he dreaded. his lips parted, his mind telling him to tell her how much he cared for her and how badly he wanted her to want him. his heart was telling him otherwise, telling him that in order to stay healthy, he can’t subject himself to anymore uncertainty if she herself is telling him to walk away. the decision weighed heavy on him as he stood up from his chair, grabbing the last bags of trash before walking up to the house.

mal was left, watching the fire die out in front of her as she silently cried to herself. she thought she’d be okay with him leaving if it meant he wouldn’t risk being hurt by her, but her fears of being heartbroken were all too true now. she had broken her own heart even after she was scared he’d do the same to her. some time had passed as she sat watching the smoke pass in the wind till she heard the rushing of her friends, not looking up to meet their worried gazes.

it wasn’t until she felt joy’s arms around her when she completely broke down. all the girls wrapped their arms around mal, holding her and soothing her as she sobbed into joy’s shirt. they weren’t sure what happened when they left, but they knew they would be the ones to pick up the pieces.

summary : he was cute, he knew how to poke at her soft spots and he knew what to say to make her laugh, but mal wasn’t like any other girl. she knew his type and she knew they’d never get past messing around in the night and forgetting about it during the day. so why is he always on her mind, even after he left? guess that last kiss he gave left more of an impact on her then he thought it did.

prev : 19 : see you around : masterlist

taglist : @dinonuguaegi @shwizhies @jaylaxies @dearlyminhyung @minkyuncutie @cutesince2000 @haechansbbg @i6renj @luv4jeno @softieluvsyou @haechology @nanawrlds

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fernifox · 8 months

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I made a box! >:)

It won me judges choice in a cosplay masquerade,,,, hit them in the feelings you know?

How I did it under the cut

First things first! I cut out 0.5cm EVA foam squares that were roughly 11 inches on each side (I used paper as a template just to make sure I get a proper right angle). It makes a decent sized box but not too big to carry around (the actual box from the episode of sabo is a little bit more rectangular but I wanted to make it easier on myself). I couldn’t find my heat gun at the time so I just flattened it out with an iron (Put some parchment paper in between to reduce the risk of leaving iron marks on it). It’s probably easier to iron it flat anyways, also be sure to put something flat and heavy over it so it will actually stay flat (I used this glass clay/cutting mat I have).

Next I sketched out where each board would. I chose to divide it into 6 boards wide (each board was roughly 2 inches, last board was a little thinner but you wouldn’t notice looking at it). There are two boards with a cross and two that are just bordered. Then you’ll want to take an exacto knife and cut semi deep cuts along each board (not all the way through!). Then a little lighter you’ll add the wood grain marks (don’t be me and forget to sharpen your knife while cutting them, if it doesn’t cut the top layer your marks will disappear when you hit it with the heat gun). They don’t have to be perfect, just simple flowy lines with the occasional tree knot.

On the other side you’ll want to figure out how you want to put your box together, the front and back pieces are the cross pieces, make sure the boarders are on the top and bottom (neater panels on the most visible sides). Your left and right pieces will have the boarders on the sides and the top piece and bottom piece will have the boarders touching the front and back pieces. The top piece and all of the edges touching it will not be cut. On the side pieces and bottom pieces you will need to measure and mark about 0.5cm away from the edge and trim it away and an angle, so when you assemble the box they’ll fit together nicely (once again do not cut away the top edges because that’s where you’ll put the hinge and Velcro so you can open it and store stuff inside!). Once you’re done you can use a heat gun on the wood grain to open the cuts so it’ll define each board and groove. Lastly you’ll sand down the pieces so the paint and glue will stick (also so you can smoothen out the edge cuts if you aren’t good at cutting angles like me).

When I glued it I used a cement glue to make it a bit sturdier and cleaner than hot glue would be and then I filled in all of the seams (on the inside and outside) with some cosplay foam clay. I decided I wanted to make it a little bit sturdier so I took a bunch of popsicle sticks I happened to have laying around and glued them together to make a frame around the inside edges of the box and then glued it in. Once the foam clay was dry I sanded down it a little to make it smoother and so paint would stick to it.

I didn’t take a picture of this but I preemptively cut slits into the back of the box where the straps would go in. I used some basic nylon straps that I got and cut them in half so they were a good length to use as backpack straps. I tried to mark where I cut on the image below. If you cut in the board seams then it makes a kind of invisible hole to slip the straps in later (try fitting the straps in now just to make sure it is the right size, this will hopefully reduce damage to the paint later).

When I started painting I painted the inside a solid brown color just so you wouldn’t just see white when you open it (you don’t have to get fancy with it tho). On the outside I mixed up a lighter brown color and placed it as the base, then I went back and mixed in darker shades of brown and some lighter shades of yellows brown to add onto the texture of the wood. It took me an entire day to do and I’m glad I didn’t run out of paint (every side is painted with texture, even the bottom).

Once I was done painting I decided that in order to help strengthen the straps I wanted to add to the box I cut of some foam bits to stick on the ends of them (that way if the glue on the straps fail then the foam bits would keep the straps in the box) and I painted them a solid brown so they wouldn’t be too visible on the box. Then I sprayed the painted box with a clear glaze that way it’d make the paint on the box sturdier (less scratching) and so it wouldn’t stick to stuff and rip off. I let the glaze dry overnight (going to continue this in a reblog because I ran out of images).

Here’s the link to the full post

#one piece #3 sake cups #sakazuki cups #asl bros #one piece cosplay #cosplay props #cosplay #my art #art #fanart #one piece fanart #marineford spoilers #ig?#I’m trying to be super vague with this so if you know you know but if you don’t you will eventually

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the-huldras-back · 4 months

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On the Boardwalk, On the Shore

Had this on a reblog on another blog that got censored almost immediately, so I decided to start a whole new blog for my writing about it! Anyways I was really gripped by the idea of mermaids transforming like salmon do in the wild.

Aluya’hicetya, A mermaid in her youth, was a darling girl in that time of her life when her kind felt the draw to rebel, swimming up to the surface to breathe the fresh, warm sea air. The old ones in her pod said it was good in moderation to keep parasites out of the skin, and the older ones said that they shouldn’t stray far from the deep waters, or entertain themselves with humans. “It’s not like the old days,” They’d say. “You can’t just sink a ship in a terrible rage like you used to.” But what none of them were willing to discuss, even in the safety and comfort of their warm undersea vents, were the consequences of letting lonely girls wander too close to the shore.

It was nothing so pedestrian as a simple kidnapping, one of those old stories of selkies captured by longshoremen or boys catching a fish bound to grant you a wish. The danger never came from the shore, but inside of the young who sat under dazzling human lights, listening to snippets of conversation on the wind. Some argued that the sea air could turn young merfolk strange, making them unrecognizable to their pods.

Of course, Merfolk were dangerous to humans too. In the old days, plenty of sea creatures made easy meals out of the stupid and the unlucky, and there was no taboo against eating them, but most avoided it unless they were desperate. Search parties churning up their water and threatening their limbs with boat propellers were bad for the community, so in these days, only the witches made a habit of disappearing juicy morsels from the shore.

Aluya, though initially thinking about whether the stray boogie-boarder might make a good snack despite the warnings, was instead haunted by the sound wafting out over the chatter of folks on the boardwalk, resting in near invisibility on the rocks in the dark and listening to these strange beings with their strange chatter. Human tongues came easily to Merfolk, the pink muscles in their mouths just as capable of English as the haunting sounds in the deep. So one night after many years of listening and watching, there came a sound that made her heart ache, and she crept dangerously close to listen.

Aluya was no stranger to the machines humans used to play what they called music, the sick, crunchy, compressed garbage that offended the ears and drowned out the voice, but this was different. She started to recognize it from her perch on the rocks, hidden by the blindingly yellow lights up on the pier. It always went the same way: “Can you play Sweet Child of Mine?” “Do you know ‘House of the Rising Sun’? The Dolly Parton one!” “Hey girl, you know any Nirvana?”

Then the music would kick up. Slow at first, then with more confidence, a small rechargeable amp carrying the sound over the waves. Human technology was as impressive as old, deep magics to her, the way small sounds became large in their hands. It was startling at first, Aluya foolishly trying to match the keening with her own throat, forgetting she was being sneaky and that her song couldn’t respond to the call without water for her to speak into. Her kind didn’t have throats made to communicate above the waves. It made her red with embarrassment, but then she sat and listened for hours on the rocks, haunted by the clear tones of quality steel cords and even better chords.

It took weeks of watching and listening on the rocks before she found who it belonged to, a young woman who walked the long way through the dark once the boardwalk closed, late into the night. Rough-looking and ragged, the scraggly musician was all bones, slinking like a stray cat through the night back to a small cottage by the sea. The ancient detritus of lures and netting in the bay outside the house told Aluya everything she needed to know. A pang in her chest, like the long prelude to a heart attack.A fisherman’s daughter’s daughter’s daughter, whiling away her hours on the earth by the sea, playing songs for money. It made her heart ache in a way that she didn’t expect.

It wasn’t about rebelling anymore, she didn’t think. The night air wasn’t so great for its own sake. Instead, she would leave her pod in the afternoons when the sun on the waves made her impossible to see before posting up on a rock, sitting to listen, then escorting her home, all without any real plan or ability to reason out why she was doing it.

Her family and friends were quick to question her of course, but Aluya simply claimed the warm night air helped with an itch in her deep blue scales, and that she was rebelling, Mom. That seemed to satisfy her initially worried parents, and she felt so clever, sneaking off to listen and learn. Before long, Aluya knew every tune this strange girl knew, memorized them and their particular keenings like she would the voice of a friendly acquaintance. She followed along as well, with the snippets of people listening on the boardwalk or the girl’s own lilting tones when she deigned to do more than play the instrument. In this way, she learned her favorites, like Dokken, Whitesnake, and Genesis, and the ache in her chest grew with each passing evening.

Her dreams, though, weren’t of the usual mermaid things like salty fish and slippery eels and whatever else a mermaid might dream of. They were strange and dark, her inner eye drawn towards a cold, dark void in the shadows cast by instinct and the whispering of old, low voices. They grew harder to ignore, night after night, and as she listened, she learned things.

On waking, Aluya would find that she had spent her night's sleep swimming, or carving things into the walls of her grotto, or floating in the deepest, coldest part of her room, hot and irritable from bad sleep. All of this she could put up with, but the ache in her chest, like there was something she was missing out on, made her so jealous she could bite down on her tongue, that was the part that galled. It was miserable but became so much worse when she started to notice changes.

Small crevices she had swum through since she was a guppy suddenly got tight, and she had to wriggle to get through. Some of her blue scales had started to flake off, and only in the yellow lights of the distant boardwalk could she see that new ones were growing in, a deep and vibrant pink that worried her. Her teeth! How could she forget. Mermaids had jaws of teeth made to fillet fish bones and suck down meat without choking, but what she’d worried were cracks or damage were instead obviously the smallest of serrations, appearing across her mouth in growing numbers each time she woke.

Looking into her reflection in old glass and the family’s scavenged standing mirror, she was different. Pink all over where it mattered, when all the family’s scales were a deep blue, colors that would hide her within moments of swimming away, muscle and growth all over, so she towered and loomed in her own home, and a more powerful jaw, her muscles developing quickly to let her crush bone rather than work the meat off of it. She looked completely feral.

And magic! Mermaids didn’t do magic, she’d always been taught, only witches in the cold deep did, to warm themselves and bring storms down on disrespectful ships. She’d never heard of what made someone a witch, but now she understood as she carved on the walls of her grotto awake, using heavy metal fishhooks from the shore to scrape esoterica she barely understood and felt compelled to perform. With each dream, the old voices taught her a new trick or cantrip, and her family grew more worried, clearly on the edge of bringing up her changes but unable to bring themselves to do so until Aluya was towering over them, having grown at least a foot in a few short months, deep pink scales growing in where she used to have her mother’s blue.

It wouldn’t be too much longer before they withdrew from her, giving only distant but polite answers to her questions about dinner and the weather topside, watching with disapproving eyes when she slinked out into the wider ocean to visit her musician and rest atop the sharp black rocks.

Aluya knew the feeling she was experiencing, after feeling it tear at her guts for months now, all through the spring and into the hot, hot summer. Laying on rocks still warm from the sun, Aluya was absolutely certain that she was lovesick, and that it was causing the strange changes. She was becoming a witch, one of the feared merfolk whose strange ways and instinctive knowledge of the magic of their leviathan ancestors made them outcast from good and decent oceanic society. She’d grown too preoccupied to care though, finding freedom in her newfound size and strength. When it wasn’t worrying Ayula, she found it exhilarating that she seemed to be stronger and faster than before, able to kill and eat much larger, richer prey for her supper, even the mighty tuna unable to evade her in her new, monstrous state. She’d eat this rich food and feel it turn in her stomach, unable to fill the hole in her with food, and something even stranger happened to her as she listened to all those old rock songs on the pier.

Opening her mouth, Ayula found she could speak! Some new adaptation with the change meant that as those chords wafted out into the air, she could catch them and sing along in time, even if only to herself, her deep, husky voice stirring from deep in her aching chest, crooning out her Void-laced tune across the night air, giggling to herself when her bewitched notes stunned animals on the shore or drunken beachgoers. Before long, she was testing herself, seeing how long she could leave someone spellbound on the shore, siren song keeping them in a stupor. She knew she was pushing it when that music kicked up on the boardwalk and she just couldn’t help herself, following along with her beloved’s clever fingers.

“Yesterday, and days before. Sun is cold, and rain is hard. I know��” Her voice left an entire group spellbound, all of them still like deer in headlights around the fire they’d built up next to the water, a dozen humans all trapped in her spell till she let them go. It felt powerful and right, like she could sing them all into the sea for her next meal. But there was only one girl she wanted, and her song couldn’t beat out the cry of a steel guitar.

That was when she began to feel the most miraculous transformation coming along, the whispers growing urgent in her dreams as she rested now in a shipwreck, the old metal hull of a tugboat caked in occult symbols, fetishes made by instinct making her sleep more lucid, easier to remember the words of the tutors in her blood. That was when she learned the greatest, most taboo of mer magic.

Ayula waited though, afraid and frightened for the first time since her transformation began, until she couldn’t stand it for another night longer, putting on the things she’d need. Human clothes and human things, pilfered from the water. She dragged them ashore, and as she left the safety of the sea foam, getting covered in scratchy sand, her tail started to disappear, melting like it had never been there, and then she was just a tall, wet teenager, quickly changing under the pier. Dressed in shorts and a shirt that barely fit her powerful frame, Ayula recognized in the mirror of a nearby jeep that she could pass for human, just so long as she didn’t make a habit of showing off her recessed gills or big, razor-sharp smile. She tied her long hair back, shuddering at the sensation of being dry for the first time in her life, and then headed up the stairs next to the boardwalk, ready to use her newfound voice to make her feelings known, one request at a time.

Peering down at her beloved, Ayula reached into her pocket and took out a mason jar of quarters she’d found and dried on the rocks for weeks now, counting out five dollars' worth of change, before dumping the sum into the guitar case in front of the blonde woman, stunned and shy now despite her monstrous size and ability by her beloved’s lovely, fair features, and asked in a halting voice, “C-could you, um, well… Do you know any Dokken?” She knew that was one of the girl’s favorites, and her smile made all of Ayula’s transformations worth it.

#mermaid #creative writing #writeblr #monster #monster girl #i don't know how tags work

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deancasswitchbang · 1 year

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A Little Bit of Everything

TITLE: A Little Bit of Everything AUTHOR: @one-more-offbeat-anthem ARTIST: @ephemerastardust

Link to Fic || Link to Art

PAIRINGS: Dean/Cas MAJOR ARCHIVE WARNINGS: n/a TAGS: Human AU, Teacher Cas, Mechanic Dean, Friends to Lovers, And they were roommates!, Grief/Mourning, past character death, character illness, first time SUMMARY: Four years ago, Dean graduated from high school and went full-time with his job at his godfather Bobby’s auto shop. Two years ago, Dean’s mom passed away, leaving him in charge of his younger brother Sam and the house. This summer, Dean realized he couldn’t keep the house on his own, Sam went off to college, and Bobby dropped a bombshell: he’s terminally ill and planning on leaving the auto shop to Dean.

Dean jumps to fix all the problems. He’s got to find a boarder to afford the mortgage, attempt to micromanage his brother’s life from across the country, ignore Bobby’s imminent death, and contemplate getting an automotive repair certificate from the local community college.

There are just a couple of problems: he can’t control everything, Bobby’s not going to let him ignore reality, deciding to go back to school is harder than it seems, and his boarder is none other than his high school friend and crush, Cas, who is back in town to teach at the local elementary school and, apparently, turn Dean’s life upside down even more.

#submission #deancasswitchbang #dcsb #dcsb2023 #A Little Bit of Everything #Author: one-more-offbeat-anthem #artist: Ephermera

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inky-duchess · 5 months

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In the backstory of this character, she inherits a grand duchy when she’s about fifteen years old. This grand duchy has a larger and smaller kingdom bordering it to the north, another kingdom bordering it to the south and another to the east. The west boarder faces the open sea. (There are other kingdoms, but they don’t directly border the grand duchy.) The rulers of the larger northern kingdom and southern kingdom decide to have the girl marry the heir of the smaller northern kingdom and combine the grand duchy and kingdom together. (These three kingdoms are all different branches of the same dynasty and they just want to expand their dynastic power.) But the kingdom east of it, where the girl’s father/regent is from, wants to marry the girl to its heir in order to gain access to the port it has on its western boarder since they lost access to trade with the western half of the world after a war with the southern and northern kingdoms some years ago. The girl’s father hears of the other kingdoms’ plan and quickly has his daughter moved to eastern kingdom so she’s forcibly married to the heir. It’s forcible on her part since she did personally approve of marrying the smaller northern kingdom’s heir. Her duchy has a different religion from the east kingdom and some of the population of her duchy would not be treated well if they were a part of the east kingdom, while the smaller north kingdom is fairly similar to the grand duchy. But she gets married to the heir who becomes king a few years later. The grand duchy becomes a vassal of the east kingdom and there is some internal conflict because of that. They have some kids together and eventually he dies, leaving her eldest son to rule while he’s a minor. Now, she wants to get married to her original fiancé since he’s available and she hopes him and his allies would be able to help gain and maintain her duchy’s independence back. The issue is that she doesn’t want her children from her first marriage to inherit her duchy because she’s concerned about the idea of the duchy being connected to the east kingdom again, even if the child renounced their claim to the east kingdom’s throne. The questions I have about this is:

1. Could she make the grand duchy independent again as a regent to her son if she decides not to go through with the marriage to her original fiancé since I’m assuming she couldn’t be regent if she remarried the ruler of another kingdom.

2. If she did remarry the smaller kingdom’s ruler, would there be a way for her to disinherit her children from her first marriage and give the grand duchy to her children from that marriage?

Thank you and sorry for the long backstory.

It would be difficult, especially since the first marriage is made with the purpose of the kingdom gaining the Grand Duchy. Her child should not renounce their claim on the throne. Why would they? She could be Regent while the child is a minor and when they are fully grown, she can counsel them to any course she wants. She has given birth to her own salvation, she controls that kingdom. They don't have to fear that Kingdom anymore.

However, it may be difficult to challenge succession. Unless her children from her first marriage abdicate or the children from the first marriage are actually unable to succeed to foreign titles by a law of the eastern kingdom (which is a real thing and probably the best way to get yourself out of that corner) there's nothing she can do.

You should really look into the story of Isabella of Angoulême, she would be a great source of inspiration for you. Her life mirrors a lot of what you're writing about.

#ask answered

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kookieswan · 2 years

Text

Red Light - Jump Rope

Nightmare!Hoseok x Psychologist!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: Horror AU, Monster AU, Psychological horror, angsty to an extent, some fluff but not for MC lol

Warnings: Talk of killing, bodily harm, blood… Warning for Yoon essentially. It should be noted that this story will contain themes of horror/psychological horror and also explore obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. Please be warned!

Summary: After witnessing Yoongi’s massacre first hand, it’s only natural you stick around and ask him why he did it.

Notes: A little gift before hobipalooza! No Hosoek this time around BUT we do get to learn more of Yoongi ♥️ This takes place right after ‘Blood Rain’!

This is the 9th part of the Red Light series. Find the Masterlist here ♥️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good evening, I know it’s an unusual time for it but I’m here so we can have a makeshift appointment.” Shaking, you’re still shaking but you try your best to get it under control. Like usual, Yoongi sits behind the barrier of his cell, except every part of his body is chained up in one way or another.

Similar to you, he’s still caked on blood. It covered him like raindrops, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he silently watched you approach the table chair situated in front of him. You had tried your best to scrub down after realizing you only brought a change or bottoms, but the pink residue of blood still remains on your white shirt.

The Nightmare doesn’t respond at first, eyes set forward as he stares on into nothing. They almost look glazed as you settle down, slowly pulling the notebook your brought onto your lap. Clearing your throat, you try your best to get his attention, not not waver, even though you know this interview likely won’t last long.

“Yoongi?” The sound of his real name snaps him out of it, silver eyes finally focusing on where you sit in front of him. He adjusts, or tries his best to with the sheer amount of chains and locks around him. The Nightmare clucks his tongue, face morphing from blank to discontent quickly.

“An appointment? I’m surprised those little heathens didn’t throw me straight into isolation. I’ve indulged you once already though, I see no reason to do so again.” There was a lot of talk about what should have been done. Some recommended killing him, which you quickly shut down along with other doctors. More talk of experimentation, which again, you vehemently denied was a good idea. Some listened, most didn’t, but either way, it was decided you should speak to him first.

“You don’t have to comply, but it’ll keep you out of isolation a bit longer and likely put you back in somewhat good graces. To answer your first question, the other doctors would like me to talk to you about todays happenings and why they might have occurred before they… lock you away.” Maybe it boarders on manipulative, but it’s also the truth. The doctors and scientists will be less likely I keep him locked up if they think he’ll benefit them in any way, so why lie about it? It’s enlightening to get him to answer thankfully.

“Why else would they occur? I already told you, I was angry and decided to stage a little coup for funsies. I don’t need s reason to cause chaos.” A little coup that has essentially had the whole lab in disarray. Many of the doctors had went home, as did the guards. You couldn’t leave though, no, you had to stay and find answers for others incompetence while orderly’s tried desperately to scrub away the blood.

“That’s it? You there was no other reason you decided to go against the set rules?” He leans back as far as he can, head tilting back toward his left shoulder, no longer interested in looking at you. He doesn’t respond for a while, so you patiently wait after jotting down a few more notes. With a long sigh, his words come out surprisingly soft.

“Does it matter? I found pleasure in ripping them apart; it was fun to play jump rope with their intestines doctor, that’s all.” Soft in tone, but not in context. You’re not sure if he’s being serious or not, you didn’t see him playing jump rope but that doesn’t mean he didn’t play a number of games with their insides. With the way things were left, it wouldn’t shock you.

That doesn’t answer your questions though. Yoongi had made attempts to escapes before, more serious ones where he got farther, but they’ve been spotty. He had stopped everything when he saw the peculiar guard, letting you go without a second thought. Something had clearly set him off, and yet the presence of one man made him change pace…

“I think something else happened but I won’t force you to tell me, so we’ll move on.” It would be dumb if you to, you don’t want to be in his bad side. The Nightmare stays silent, looking toward the corner of his cell likes it’s the most interesting thing in the world. He’s being truthful from what you can tell so far, so at least there’s that.

“As you’ve already stated, you enjoyed killing the guards. Is there a specific reason why you positioned them the way you did?” Many were staged in compromising positions from what you saw. Some chopped up, others hanging from the ceiling with their organs, the list goes on. The Nightmare purses his lips before answering, voice absolute and deep.

“Killing is like an art, the blood is paint, their innards pieces for me to play with. I like making a full blown art exhibit from time to time, especially with the ones who scream and run.” You haven’t ever heard it described white like that, but you suppose you can see where he’s coming from. Comparing the materials of the human body to actual art materials like paint; comparing humans to objects.

“… Did you make this specific exhibit for Jungkook Jeon?” You consider not asking it, but it’s important you do for further clarity in the situation, at least for yourself. Yoongi finally looks at you again, eyes slightly narrowed but with a grim smirk on his pale face. You dare say the Nightmare looks proud of himself.

“And what if I did? Pretty people deserve pretty things.” Jungkook is noted to be someone important in his files, yes, but that’s about it. There’s no reason why stated, no note of how they met or why Yoongi has latched onto him. But this statement is enough to let you know he finds the other man attractive to some degree, so perhaps it’s romantic? Sexual?

It’s only a question of whether or not you should jot that down, but you decide to keep it to yourself for now and just note that the guard had happened to show up. Jungkook seems innocent enough, and others would likely take advantage of that if they could. Tapping your pen against the page, you set it down and ask him once more in a gentle voice.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about? Anything you want to tell me?” A shot in the dark, but it’s one you’re willing to take every time. Who knows, maybe one day one of your Nightmares will actually tell you what’s troubling them. Yoongi shifts in his seat, wincing once or twice as he does so.

“No, I’m done talking. The only true regret I have is not thinking about how much blood would get on me, and I don’t really want to save it as a snack for later.” So he likes to make a mess but doesn’t enjoy sitting in it… Most Nightmares don’t seem to mind being perpetually covered in decay and rot, but you can’t blame him for wanting a shower. You want one right now just as bad, and he’s not going to answer anything else, not now, so…

“Alright, let’s wrap things up then. We can get back to this after you’ve got out of isolation at our next appointment. Remember, if you need to speak to me at any time just let someone know and I’ll come.” Standing up, you wander over to the door where the guards are posted and knock. A few clicks of the locks and they’re peering in, one mad looking and the other terrified.

“We’re done. Before you take him into isolation though, I want him to shower on his own and I want new clothing for him.” Is it a possibility he could make a run for it? Sure, but the Nightmare looks resigned to his fate and you’ll personally hunt him down if he does. The guards don’t look pleased though at the thought, chests puffed out and guns ready to go at the slightest of movements.

“And why the fuck should we? Disgusting piece of shit deserves to rot.” Yoongi stays quiet, but you don’t. Not after the day you’ve had, not after being forced to stay while others got to go home.

“If I find out that you didn’t take him, gently, to the showers there will be consequences. There will be consequences if I find out he doesn’t get new clothes. There will be consequences if I find out you harmed him in any way possible. Do you understand me?” The men look like they want to fight but don’t, waking past you into the room to get Yoongi form his cell. Gathering your things, you can only hope the trauma from today isn’t too long lasting.

“Good. Now do your job correctly. 061309, I look forward to our next meeting.”

#red light ♥️#hoseok x y/n #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts monster au #bts horror au

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undersilverlake · 2 years

Text

My Guardian Angel

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

Description: while on a mission to find Nancy Wheeler, you stumble upon Eddie Munson instead and you decide to help him out of a dangerous situation

💭: this low-key boarders on a Nancy Wheeler x reader fic, why is reader so determined to find her? You in love with her or something?

You worked for the newspaper alongside Nancy and you had noticed that after the recent murder in town, she had become distant. This was the biggest story in Hawkin’s ever since the mall fire last year and you were eager to work on a story with her but after the both of you had sneaked into the trailer park where the crime took place to interview the residents and the prime suspects uncle, it was as if she had vanished off the face of the earth.

After she failed to meet you at the office, where you were going to write up a story together on the information you had both gathered at the trailer park yesterday, you had called her home to check if she was unwell.

When her mother, Karen, answered the phone, you introduced yourself and asked her if her daughter wasn’t feeling well, you weren’t expecting Karen to tell you that Nancy wasn’t home because she had gone out to hangout with a couple of her friends.

Nancy wasn’t the sort of person who blew off work to go and “hangout” with her friends, she was very passionate about journalism, as were you, and with how eager she was about gathering information yesterday, she even lied to a police officer to sneak into the crime scene, it didn’t make sense to you that she would stand you up to go and randomly hangout with her friends. You knew something wasn’t right and your curiosity wouldn’t let you settle.

After asking for the names of Nancy’s friends, you made a little note in your little writing pad where you kept all your information. Robin and Steve, you knew them, they worked at the video store. That would be where you would start your investigation.

“Welcome to Family Video, how may I help you today?” the greasy teen drawled in the most monotone voice, without once taking his eyes off of the TV that hung on the wall behind the checkout and was currently playing a scene from Fast Times at Ridgemont High.

“Yes, I was hoping you could help me.” you smiled, showing him more courtesy than he had offered you, “I’m looking for Robin and Steve.”

At the mention of their names, the greasy teenager finally span around in his office chair to face you and you could finally read his name tag, discovering his name was Kieth.

“You won’t find them here, those lazy shits bailed on me today. They’re probably swapping saliva and other bodily fluids up at Lover’s Lake as we speak.” Kieth scoffed and you grimaced.

“If you find them, tell them they’re on thin ice. One more strike and they’re out.” you pulled your face back when Kieth pointed at you with a Cheeto dust covered finger.

Something strange was definitely going on and your curious mind couldn’t let it go. Why would Nancy, Steve and Robin all bail on their commitments the same day?

You thanked Kieth for his help and stepped back out of the video store wondering where to search next. Keith had mentioned Lover’s Lake, although it seemed like a long shot, you didn’t really have any other leads. So you jumped in your car and headed in that direction.

By the time you arrived at the cabin by Lover’s Lake, the sun was beginning to set, casting the entire lake in a pink and orange hue. You couldn’t deny how romantic the scene looked, you could certainly see how it had earned it’s name.

As you were approaching the cabin, the sound of a car engine caught your attention. You saw a group of men in black suits climb out of a black SUV, carrying baseball bats and crowbars and your blood ran cold through your body.

As they marched closer, you realised they were being lead by the captain of the Hawkin’s High basketball team and the boyfriend of the recent murder victim.

“Jason Carver?” you squinted at him and his teammates, before you jogged towards them to meet them halfway down the drive. “What are you doing here?” you asked as you cautiously eyed their weapons.

“We’ve reason to believe the freak that killed my Chrissy is hiding out here.” Jason told you as he rested a hand on your shoulder, which you were sure he intended to be comforting, but instead caused your whole frame to go rigid. “It’s not safe for you to be here with that psycho on the loose.”

Your brows scrunched together, “shouldn’t we call the police instead?”

“So they can let him slip through their fingers again? I’m not going to let that happen.” Jason spoke through a clenched jaw, his voice filled with venom and his eyes filled with rage. “The freak deserves to feel the exact same pain he made Chrissy feel when he stole her life away from her.”

“You don’t even know for sure that Eddie—”

“Are you defending him?” Jason quickly cut you off and his once gentle grip on your shoulder tightened threateningly.

“I’m not.” you quickly appeased him, even though you honestly believed the man at least deserved a fair trail before he was bludgeoned to death, but you weren’t going to argue with Jason in the current state he was in.

“Good.” he nodded curtly, before he gave you a nudge towards the end of the drive. “Now get outta here.”

As you walked back towards your car, you kept glancing behind you as Jason and his teammates entered the cabin one by one. Once they had all disappeared, you looked over to the boathouse and your eyes widened when you saw a shadow move behind one of the windows.

With one final glance towards the cabin, you sneaked towards the boathouse, making sure to duck below any windows that they might have saw you through.

You quickly slid through the door and pulled it shut behind you, leaning your back against it for a moment to rest your racing heart.

Your eyes wandered over every inch of the boathouse, it appeared completely abandoned, until you saw empty snack packets and cans of pop littering the worktop.

As you began to investigate deeper into the boathouse, you tiptoed towards a boat covered in tarp and with a deep breath you yanked it back, almost losing your balance from the fright of Eddie rising up along with it.

In an instant you both put your palms over the others mouth, to prevent each other from screaming and gaining the attention of Jason and his teammates.

Your faces were inches apart and you silently communicated to one another through your eyes. Fear and trauma spilled from Eddie’s doe eyes as they pleaded with your own.

Arriving to the conclusion that neither of you were going to scream, you gave each other a brief nod before you lowered your hands from over each other’s mouths.

“Jason and his friends are in the cabin looking for you.” you warned Eddie.

“If they find me I’m as good as dead.” Eddie’s voice trembled as he spoke, while he slightly rocked back and forth with a bowed head before he lifted his gaze back to yours.

“Who are you? Why are you helping me? Are you a friend of Dustin or Steve or Nancy? Are they okay?” questions rolled off of Eddie’s tongue faster than you could process them but one name in particular caught your attention.

“You know Nancy?” you asked him. “That’s why I’m here, I’m looking for her.”

“She’s helping me with Dustin, Steve and Robin. They told me they could clear my name.” Eddie whispered to you and your head spun at the realisation of how little you knew about anything that was going on, but you knew if Nancy trusted Eddie then you could trust him as well.

“I’m going to help you get out of here.” you told Eddie with determination.

“How?” Eddie eyed you curiously.

You had helped Eddie sneak out the boathouse and sent him running through the woods in one direction, while you began running in the opposite. Once you had put some distance between yourself and the cabin, you stopped and rested your hands over your knees for a moment and bent over to catch your breath.

Once you had enough air in your lungs, you began screaming as loud as you could, so loud your throat burned but you didn’t stop, you continued to scream until you heard several footsteps running towards you and through the trees you saw Jason and his friends approaching you.

“Help!” you cried as you ran towards them, sobbing hysterically.

“I told you to get out of here!” Jason reprimanded you.

“I know,” you cried through fake sobs, “but before I left I saw something in the woods, so I followed it and then-” you cut yourself off as you heaved air into your lungs and tried to fight your uncontrollable sobs.

“Which way did he go?” Jason pressed you.

“That way.” you pointed a trembling finger in the opposite direction which you had sent Eddie running.

Jason threw his car keys at one of his friends, ordering them to drive you home, before he and the rest of his friends went on your wild goose chase through the woods. You tried to hide your triumphant smirk, but it was hard.

When you arrived back home, you tried contacting Nancy again, most frustratingly you couldn’t even leave her a voicemail because the last thing you wanted was her parents to find out their daughter was harbouring a fugitive.

The shrill sound of your bedside phone yanked you out of a sleep you hadn’t realised you had fallen into and you immediately shot up, sending a serge of dizziness through your whole body.

“Hello? Nancy, is that you?” you spoke with a raspy morning voice.

“What on Earth is going on? My mom told me you kept calling last night.” Nancy’s voice answered through the receiver and you never thought you would be so relieved to hear it.

“Have you spoken to Eddie recently?” you asked her.

“No,” she answered far too quickly, as her voice raised in pitch, “why would I have spoken to Eddie? He’s on the run, no one knows where he is.”

“Stop lying to me.” you sighed, “I spoke to him yesterday, he told me you’re trying to clear his name.”

“You spoke to Eddie?” Nancy asked you.

“Yes, I had to save him from Jason and his goons. I sent him running into the woods and sent Jason on a while goose chase in the opposite direction. Have you heard from him since last night?” you asked, suddenly realising just how concerned you were for him.

Nancy stuttered for a moment as she processed what you just told her, before you heard her talk to some other people, while you waited not so patiently for her to answer your question.

“Meet me at my place. Be quick.” she instructed you and hung up before you could ask anymore questions.

When you reached Nancy’s, you were quickly dragged down to her basement to where you found Steve, Robin and three kids you didn’t know the names of, but you recalled Eddie mentioning a Dustin last night.

Nancy quickly introduced all of you and you found out the other kids names were Max and Lucas.

“Have you heard from Eddie yet?” was the first question you asked after all the formal introductions were out the way.

“Don’t worry, we have spoken to Eddie. He is safe, thanks to you.” Dustin assured you and you let out a sigh of relief you felt like you had been holding in all night.

“Yeah, he told us what you did. That was pretty smart.” Steve told you from where he was sat on the old couch.

“God knows what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” Robin mumbled to herself.

“What were you doing there exactly?” Nancy asked you.

“I was looking for you because you stood me up,” you answered, “and when I called to check up on you, your mom told me you were hanging out with Robin and Steve so I went to the video store and Kieth told me Robin and Steve were at Lover’s Lake.”

“How did Kieth know we had been Lover’s Lake?” Robin thought out loud.

“I don’t think he actually knew you had been to Lover’s Lake. He seemed to be under the impression that you and Steve had skipped work to hookup there.” there was a silent pause before Robin started gagging and Steve broke into a fit of laughter, meanwhile the rest of you felt as though you were missing out on some sort of inside joke.

You trailed behind Dustin and Steve as they squabbled like an old married couple over something to do with the directions to Skull Rock, that was the place where Eddie had told you all to meet him and you had no idea where it was, so you were relying on either Steve or Dustin to get it right.

“Oh boom!” Steve cheered as he pushed through some branches, “bada bing, bada boom! There she is, Henderson. Skull Rock! In your face, man. In your stupid cocky little face.”

“It doesn’t make sense?” you heard Dustin say to himself as you walked past him and you drowned out Steve’s voice as he continued to argue with the teenager, while you kept an eye out for Eddie but you couldn’t see him anywhere.

That was until you heard a thud behind you, which caused you to yelp as you span around on the spot to see Eddie stood there.

“I concur. You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead.” Eddie added to Steve’s argument.

“Jesus we thought you were a goner.” Dustin smiled as he pulled Eddie into a hug and as he hesitantly returned it, seemingly startled by the display of affection, his eyes met yours and his lips curved into a smile, causing your own to copy.

“I was safe and sound thanks to my Guardian Angel over there.” Eddie nodded towards you, “for a moment I swore you weren’t real.”

Your cheeks heated at the name Eddie used to referred to you.

“No, I’m very much real,” you laughed as you poked at your own stomach to prove it. “I was just in the right place at the right time.” you humbly replied as Eddie stepped closer to you.

He mimicked you by gently poking one of his ringed fingers into your side and you started giggling at the ticklish sensation it sent through your body, before Eddie was wrapping his arms around you without warning.

“I can’t thank you enough for saving me last night.” his breath fanned over your neck since had snuggled his face between your neck and your shoulder.

You reciprocated the hug, by stroking your hand over Eddie’s denim clad back, realising how much comfort he probably needed right now, after everything he had been though these past couple days.

“I don’t even know your name.” Eddie spoke as you both separated from the hug and you smiled as you finally told him your name.

“My Guardian Angel.” Eddie repeated, as if that was your actual name but if that’s what he wanted to call you, he would hear no complaints from you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #nancy wheeler

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ejzah · 1 year

Note

I don’t know if you ever would do this fanfic, but if you could can you write about what would have happened if Kensi really did lose Deeks in Mothers and how she’d blame Hetty for his death.

A/N: I will readily admit that this is overly angsty and dramatic. Hetty does come off too well. As is my tendency of late.

***

All the Sorrys in the World

Kensi stumbled into the mission. Someone had driven her there, though she couldn’t tell who. Her mind and body felt numb. Like it belonged to someone else.

“Kensi. Kensi!”

Someone grabbed her arm, and she jerked back, the opposite hand coming up in a defensive fist as she swung around.

“Woah, Kensi, it’s just me,” Sam said, leaning out of her reach, hands raised in the air.

He hadn’t been there, she recalled, the thought just as hazy as everything almost everything else. Or Callen.

“Is it true? Deeks is—?” Sam swallowed heavily, looking down and to the left, questions left unfinished.

For the first time, something pricked at the back of her mind, painful and inconceivable, and she pushed it back. She had a mission, a purpose, and she couldn’t be distracted.

“What happened?” he asked instead.

“The building exploded,” she answered woodenly. “There wasn’t enough time to—there wasn’t enough time.”

In her mind, she saw Deeks’ horrified and panicked look, the fear, the dismay in his eyes, as they realized they were out of options. He’d made her leave. Used every last bit of his power, pleaded with her, until she finally gave in, hating herself with every second, and left.

Sam embraced her unexpectedly, arms engulfing her, his chest solid and warmth against the side of her face. “Kensi, I am so sorry,” he whispered in her ear. His voice shook.

Kensi squeezed her eyes shut, but didn’t return the gesture, arms hanging loosely at her sides.

Finally, Sam stepped back, the sheen of tears on his cheeks. He shook his head and swiped his hand under his nose.

“We would have come, Kensi—”

“You had things to do. I understand,” she said, her numbness disguising and bitterness she felt. She glanced around the bullpen, towards the desk sat upon its pedestal. “Where’s Hetty?”

“Hold on a second, Kensi. We should get you checked out first.”

“I’m fine.”

“Kens, you’re bleeding,” Sam said gently, gesturing to her arm. She held it up, staring at the slash in her shirt, a long cut peeking through. An uneven patch of blood surrounded the boarders of the tear. Distantly, she noticed there were small holes along with smears of something dark. Some of the shrapnel must have hit her when the bomb—

“It’s nothing,” she repeated. “I need to speak with Hetty.”

“She upstairs.”

She moved past Sam, her purpose giving her strength to climb the stairs, and then she stood in front of the doors. When they slid open, she had a brief glimpse of Nell sitting at one of the tech stations, head buried on her hands, with Eric standing over her, hands on her shoulders. And in the middle of it all, Hetty.

Kensi walked through, marching straight up to Hetty. She heard Nell whisper her name, but ignored it. Hetty’s eyes widened ever so slightly, but she stood her ground.

“Was it worth it?” Kensi whispered.

“Kensi, my dear, you shouldn’t be here,” Hetty responded slowly, carefully. Like Kensi was someone who needed to be managed. A damaged creature.

“Was all the manipulation, the games, the controlling people’s lives worth it? Was gaining your perfect soldiers worth Deeks’ life?”

Hetty made a small sound of distress, and it woke he anger in Kensi. She suddenly wanted to smack her.

“I never intended for any of this to happen,” she said. “You must know that Kensi.”

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t,” Kensi replied with a laugh that sounded deranged and acidic to her own ears. “Somehow you just always seem to be the one responsible when people are hurt. Because you are the reason Deeks is gone. You are the reason a deranged, hurt, angry man decided to trap us in a rigged building.”

Hetty took a step back, her face blanching as Kensi’s voice and anger rose.

“Deeks is dead, Hetty.” Her voice cracked and a brutal pain stabbed through her chest. “I didn’t even get to hold him one more time before he was gone. I left him in that building, scared and alone, waiting to die.”

Kensi didn’t attempt to stop the tears that filled her eyes now, or the shaking of her hands. She was beyond that control now.

“And I blame you for that, Hetty. I blame you for my husband’s death, for cutting his life short, for destroying our future. And I blame you for never learning to stop.”

“Kensi, if I could change what happened, I would,” Hetty murmured, reaching for her hand. Kensi stepped back, nostrils flaring with disgust and hatred.

“But you can’t. You can’t bring him back.” Kensi felt a tear slip down her cheek. “You can’t let me kiss Deeks one more time. He’s gone.” Shaking her head, Kensi turned her back on Hetty, brushing past Sam, ignoring Nell’s worried call.

***

Thanks for the prompt!

Also, anonkp, the irony and timeliness of your comment on my previous post. So sorry.

#ncis la fanfiction #kensi blye #marty deeks #densi #extreme angst #character death #mother au #Hetty is the villain of this story #anonymous prompt #ejzah fanfiction

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narrans · 2 months

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The Orion's Daughter : To Lands Beyond | Chapter 17 | How to Proceed

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Chapter Seventeen | How to Proceed

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It was an arduous process, but I was slowly but surely making my way through the documents. After Steele’s polite decline and after the Captain’s insistence as well as the insistence of his friend, he seemed to be thinking about their request for his return and counsel. Knowing Steele, that meant that he was going to sit and stare at the horizon for a few hours weighing his options and, ultimately, go with his gut feeling about the whole situation in the first place.

For this, it meant that he was not going to go.

Still, he decided to humor me and let me read through the documents the Captain and Wofur provided. The ride back on the dinghy was tense, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement at the same time. I was eager to know what was going on in the world beyond the horizon, and I soon found out.

After spending hours combing through the documents, I felt completely and utterly blindsided.

This was a bigger deal than I thought.

First, Keonune and Laryuen had some tense history with the mainland, mostly because of where they were located. Steele told me a bit about the different territories, and so I knew that the Orion living in Keonune were high in the mountains and the Orion living in Laryuen was practically a marshy swamp land.

While teaming with life in their own way, it was hardly pleasant living conditions for those in Laryuen. The documents stated they were requesting more supplies for trade, but other documents and correspondence stated that there was hardly enough on the mainland to go around and that everyone received approximately the same amount of rations.

For the inhabitants of Keonune and Laryuen, it wasn’t enough.

I kept my oil lamp close, walking along the text that was scrolled and scratched in letters as long as my arm, as I continued to read.

Evidently, this treatment and various hostilities had been going on for quite some time – and now they were all at a breaking point.

The more I read, the more I felt for the Orion and the people of these territories. It was true that everyone was receiving proper trade and equal amounts, but it was because the living conditions were so harsh that they were asking to adjust the boarder lines, which would give both the inhabitants of Keonune and Laryuen more territory than the other districts.

This was the primary crux of the issue and why they were willing to go to war.

The entire time I read, I continued to update Steele about what I was discovering. I informed him of the details and facts without him having to deal with the minutiae of the situation.

“Steele, did you know that the Orion from Keonune have pushed down from the mountains into two of the towns. They’re not occupying it, based on their claims. They’re ‘co-habitating’ according to their leader. Do you know someone by the name of Imvyr Masatar?”

Sometimes, Steele would recognize the names and give me a summarized history of this person or that person, telling me how he knew them or some of the tactics he heard they used. While all of the information was useful, it was nowhere near some of the questions I wanted to ask him. I wanted to know about Steele’s military history. I wanted to know about the respect he commanded among the ranks of a crew of strangers. Still, those questions could wait for after he made his decision.

For now, this was the priority.

I combed through more documents, describing all of the events leading up to the most recent ones. It wasn’t until I reached one point where there was a skirmish that I noticed the name of our continent, Rascya, pop up. I shook in my shoes in disbelief and surprise as I read how the Orion of Keonune and Laryuen were now pushing into our homeland.

It was at the far east, but it was still happening.

Our home was being affected by this war of the Orion.

It was then that, from the depths of my mind, that I remembered something that the First Mate on the ship said to Steele as she helped debrief him of some of the facts.

The First Mate said that precautions and preparations were being made, and then she made eye-contact with me and glanced at my momma. It was a reluctant look, like how adults talked about children while they were in the room.

What did that mean?

My heart flipped in my chest as my mind was set to the races. Whatever it meant, it was not good – specifically for momma and for people like us. I wondered for a moment longer if there were reports in the east of what was happening or if communication was being cut off on purpose.

Were our people dying in droves and we didn’t even know?

First, I needed to know what these precautions and preparations were. My mouth suddenly felt like I had stuffed them with cotton. I looked around me and suddenly noticed that the sun was hanging low in the sky, casting the horizon in odd, haunting shades of pinks, oranges, and reds. Steele’s eyes were still clinging onto the edge of the world where the sky met the sea. Somehow, the light accentuated the subtle wrinkles and crow’s feet on his face, making dark, contrasting shadows that made him seem like a different person than the one I had learned to call dad.

I don’t know why I felt so nervous to ask him. Perhaps, in a way, I suspected the answer, but I didn’t want to confirm it.

Still, I needed to know – I had to know.

“Steele?” my voice sounded so small as I called up to him. At first, it was like he didn’t hear me. He kept his eyes, unblinking, turned toward the ocean. It wasn’t until I opened my mouth to call out to him again when he blinked slowly, drawing in a deep breath, before turning his violet eyes onto me. They looked luminous against the sky.

“Yes, Terrilyn?” asked Steele. His voice sounded exhausted and wary. It was like he knew what I was about to ask and was reluctant to share the information and resigned himself to answering, regardless of the information’s unpleasantness.

“I keep seeing the same references to preparations and precautions, and I remember the First Mate saying something about it before looking at momma and I,” I said. Steele nodded as if he could see the question behind my eyes. “What does that mean?”

Steele chewed on his bottom lip and, for the first time in a long time, turned to look back at the water without answering my question. He was nodding slowly over and over again. Anxiousness pressed in on my chest like deep water diving, surrounding me and compressing the air until it was almost unbearable. Just when I felt like I needed to break the surface, Steele responded.

“There are laws and clauses in our government that recognizes your people. You know one of them as the Directive of Noninterference. We, the Orion, know and recognize that our civilization is different than yours. We have made certain advancements that your people have not yet discovered.

“Our counsels and political figureheads of the day, long before I was around, decided it would be better if our two races did not interact very much as a whole to prevent us from accidentally tampering with your natural civilized progression,” stated Steele. His voice sounded distant and mechanical, like he needed to emotionally distance himself from the information.

“That was the one you were afraid that they were coming to arrest you for? The Noninterference directive? Telling us about your civilization and educating us? Teaching us about more efficient crop harvesting and so forth?” I asked. Steele nodded complacently.

“Yes,” he replied quietly. I was able to take one breath, but it was far from the relief that I needed. He needed to keep talking.

“Alright, I understand as much, but what about the other thing? You haven’t explained these precautions yet. Is that another directive?” I asked. The reluctant wall Steele had placed between the information and me broke. Just like before with his detached tone, he began explaining.

“There is a clause in our laws that addresses conflict, specifically about it reaching your territories. Because we know of our devastating abilities and our natural advantages, a specific clause was created to protect your people. It states that if war or conflict appears eminent, it is the counsel’s responsibility to utilize the Counsel of Archanum to preserve the cultures of different regions, cities, towns, et cetera by bringing small groups to our land, confining them to a safe location, and then relocating them once the potential hazards have been neutralized,” said Steele, his words hanging hollowly in the air.

My knees were actually shaking as I stared up at the only true father I had ever known.

Did he just say what I thought he said?

Relocating them? Moving my people? Bringing small groups to their homeland? Confining them? Relocating them? Keeping them “safe?”

It reminded me of something I read from the traveling scholars and university students about preserving wildlife in developing areas. From what Steele just said, sounded like he was talking about some kind of endangered species of lizard, not people – my people.

“But… there’s no way our people have signed off on this, right? Do our councilmen know about this? If they do, this is horrid! They’re just letting our people be relocated without general consent? Why not just have us evacuate?” I asked. Steele once again looked away from me, but this time he was shaking his head.

“No,” he said, obviously crestfallen at his admission. “Your people are kept in the dark about this particular directive for reasons. It would raise too many questions and too many would resist, condemning countless lives to death simply because some are too stubborn to relocate themselves. So, no. Your people have not given consent, and it is because of the Directive of Noninterference that we do not inform your people and simply have you relocate.”

My jaw dropped.

This was worse than I thought. The Orion – giants by our standards – were on the brink of all-out war and our citizens didn’t have any clue as to what loomed on the horizon, literally. We were sitting ducks, fish in a barrel, and we had no resources to defend ourselves and no say in how we were to proceed.

“Steele! This is an atrocity! This violates all of my peoples’ civil liberties and puts us at horrible risk. We have to tell the authorities! We need to notify the heads of our districts and inspire action.” My voice had taken on a life of its own, ringing out like some kind of patriotic orator. I felt energy surge through me as I felt true purpose.

Steele’s violet eyes, however, held a much heavier look.

“Terrilyn, these actions would be in direct violation on my part with the Directive of Noninterference. Not only that, but getting these authorities to listen to you will be an immense challenge and take time we do not have,” stated Steele. “As you read in the report, they are already on the brink of war. Things like this take time.”

I felt frustration well up inside of me. I stood defiantly and stared at my giant, Orion father. Rarely were we at odds, and this felt like one of those times.

“So, we do nothing?” I demanded. “Like cowards and the lords who are far removed from the front lines, watching and judging without residing in the slums and trenches with his people?” There was a flare in Steele’s eyes as he looked at me.

The look wasn’t that of anger, but of bruised personal pride.

“Terrilyn, my kind, sweet summer child. You do not know the atrocities of war. The logistics and persuasions, treaties and deals, are no longer viable options. Fighting is all that will stop Keonune and Laryuen now,” sighed Steele. He folded his hands and turned his eyes to the sea once again.

I looked over at the silhouette of the ship, my eyes catching the faint bit of light on the bow and stern as well as the few cabins that could be seen because of the light through the portholes.

My thoughts raged in my head as I fixated on the ship.

How could he sound so defeated? They came to him for help because he’s dealt with this situation before. Why is he so reluctant? It’s not like he would actually be fighting, right? Or is he afraid they will arrest him for the whole Noninterference Directive thing?

My insides twisted. Right there as a silhouette on the horizon was the chance to protect my people and to prevent the death of countless lives. Right there was adventure and the chance to see Steele’s world, a place I had only imagined though dreams and descriptions he gave me.

It was heart wrenching.

Then, a thought occurred to me.

Maybe he wouldn’t go, but would that stop me?

“Dad?” I said as I kept my eyes fixed on the mast. “You said once that visitors from other lands were designated as ambassadors by default unless your counsel had someone designated for the position, right?”

My Orion father looked down at me, violet eyes stern and fierce with a play of curiosity in them.

“This is correct, but…”

“Could I go?” I asked. The words were out of me before I could even think about them. I knew this was going to bring on a discussion, but I was more than ready to continue defending my point.

This – my world and my people – were important to me.

My father’s violet eyes softened into a pensive look.

“Terrilyn, do you truly desire this?” asked Steele. “Do you truly want to go and attempt to undo the impossible?” I straightened up and looked him in the eyes. I felt overwhelmed, but excited too.

“We will not so easily be overlooked simply because of our size and advances. Perhaps we were far behind the Orion, but that didn’t mean we were only slightly superior to animals. I want to go. I need to go. This is important to me, Steele. Even if it does nothing, at least I tried. Isn’t that what you taught me to do?” I asked.

I could have sworn that beneath his stern gaze that I saw a hint of a smile turning the corners of his lips upward.

“Indeed,” Steele muttered. “Koova ka’non psion. Feylyra koova. Liehara naterma.”

I knew what he meant.

My dearest love. My daughter. Just like your mother.

I felt myself beam with pride. Evidently, I had done something right.

“Very well,” he said softly as he tore his eyes from me back to the mast of the ship. “We shall go.”

Did I hear him correctly? Go? We?

“You… you’re coming with me?” I asked. Steele nodded and tenderly placed his hand on the ground beside me. I stepped on without hesitation and crouched as he lifted his hand near his face. Those captivating violet eyes of his turned once again on me, and I felt a shiver run through me.

For a moment as my heart flipped in my chest, I saw the commander Steele once was. I felt an intimidating presence of a wise, seasoned warrior who was determined to turn the tides set before him.

“I will not allow my daughter to enter into this battle alone,” he said firmly.

I knew what I was asking. I knew what Steele was sacrificing. He was willing to travel across the world to face a world he thought he would never see again for me, and I loved him for it.

I stood and stepped carefully up to the side of his palm, holding my hands out as I used to as a much younger child. Knowing what it meant, Steele pulled his hand closer to his face and let me hug along the bridge of his nose, our foreheads pressed together as we once did.

After countless seconds passed, Steele pressed his lips against my chest and pulled away only to fixate once again on the ship.

“We have some letters to send out of courtesy to your officials to let them know of what is occurring as well as your intention to be an ambassador. Then, we must hail the ship. It will be a long night ahead of us,” stated Steele. I felt tingly all over, excitement electrifying my nerves as Steele lowered me to the ground.

“Yes, dad,” I said assertively.

Yes, the night would be long, and maybe it was all for nothing and the wheels of fate were already turning. Still, I knew in my heart that this was the right thing to do.

Grabbing my writing desk and preparing for the long night ahead, I dipped my quill and prepared to change history’s tale with nothing more than ink and perseverance. Would it be enough?

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Continue | Coming Soon

Beginning

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Book One: The Orion’s Factotum

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